#i did this to practice background and as you can see it became less and less about the background

[paradisepoisoned]

We’re all in our own private coffee au traps so to speak.

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[barcaatthemoon]

serial heartbreaker || leila ouhabi x reader ||

leila comes back to barcelona after you figure out that she cheated on you in manchester.

it became obvious that something was up whenever your teammates started acting weird around you. alexia and mapi were the first, but ona, pina, and claudia quickly followed suit. ona began to outright avoid you, which hurt pretty badly. almost as badly as whenever you finally realized what was going on.

you sat with your suspicions for several weeks before they were officially confirmed. leila was careful, but she got sloppy. it was in the back of someone else's instagram stories. your eyes had zeroed in on your girlfriend making out with another girl in the background of a video that one of her teammates had shot.

it was hard not letting on that you knew anything, but you weren't nearly as good at it as you thought you were. alexia could see that you were hurting, as could more of your more perceptive teammates. the one who had shocked you was lucy, who had snapped at leila whenever she came back to spain for a visit, claiming to have missed you dearly.

"get the fuck out of here," lucy had practically growled at leila. the woman had planned on surprising you, and at lucy ruining that, leila got pissed. the two of them were at each other's throats, and it took mapi and alexia leading leila away for things to calm down a bit. you couldn't hear them at first, but soon the hallway was full of your two barcelona teammates yelling at leila in spanish. "are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," you answered quietly. lucy kneeled down next to you and put her hand around your shoulders. "how long have you guys known?"

"ona told me about it a few months ago. i didn't want to have to be the one to tell you. i'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier," lucy said. you nodded as you pulled her into a hug.

"it's okay. i probably wouldn't have believed you for a while. i couldn't, leila promised she'd never do something like this," you said. lucy understood how you felt. ona had been livid with the other spanish player whenever she had found out, to the point where lucy was certain they hadn't spoken to each other since. "when do you think they'll be done? i do have to talk to leila at some point."

"just tell her to get the fuck out of here, please? i know that she means a lot to you, but you can't go back to her. ona said it herself, leila will do it again," lucy pleaded with you. if it had been anybody else, you probably would have ignored the warnings, but lucy didn't like to get involved with people's lives like this.

"i'll try to," you promised. lucy pressed a kiss to your head before she helped you up to your feet. the two of you walked over to where alexia and mapi were still tearing into leila, who looked both ashamed and angry. lucy pulled your teammates away to give you some privacy with leila.

"amor," leila started. she moved towards you, but you held your hand up to keep her away from you. "please, let me explain."

"there's nothing to explain, leila. you cheated on me, it is that simple. you can blame the distance, your loneliness, the fact that you're just so affectionate. you can say anything that you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me," you told her. "so go ahead and explain yourself because i'd love to hear whatever bullshit you've been telling yourself, but once you're done, i want you to answer all my questions."

"i missed you, and i was angry because i told you not to come with me. you offered to come to manchester, but i told you to stay here instead. i was all alone, and it was my fault, so i took it upon myself to be less lonely. it was just hook ups at first, i swear, and then there was this girl on the training staff. we hit it off, things are going great, but she's not you," leila said. all her words did was fill you with rage. she had confirmed that this had been going on for a lot longer than you knew, and worse than that, she was still with one of the girls she had cheated with.

"get the fuck out of here. if i never see you again, it'll still be too fucking soon." you turned on your heels and walked right out of the room. leila tried to chase after you, but lucy was right there to stop her. you walked into the locker room and went straight to your locker, beginning to pack up your things to go home.

"(y/n), are you okay?" mapi asked as she sat down next to you. you weren't crying, it was far past that, but you were obviously pissed. you didn't mean to direct it at mapi, but the glare you gave her had the woman backing away from you instantly. unfortunately for you, alexia wasn't as easily scared by you.

"i'm sorry that we didn't do something before," alexia said as she pulled you into a hug. her embrace was tight and comforting, but you didn't let yourself relax. most of the girls looked away, but you could see ona standing across the room looking at you longingly. she had been avoiding you for months, and it killed her to not be by your side as your best friend.

"come here oni," you told her. she raced over towards you, both of you dissolving into fits of tears as soon as you were in each other's arms. her apologies were scrambled in between sobs and spanglish, but you knew that she meant it. still, a part of you couldn't forgive her for what happened. she had known since the beginning that leila had cheated on you, but she hadn't said anything to you.

"do you need a ride home?" alexia asked once you and ona had calmed down a little. you nodded as you picked up your bag. the team didn't miss the way that you ignored ona as she said goodbye to you. the anger you felt for leila was starting to spread around the team, and if it wasn't for the fact that you needed alexia for support, you'd probably shut her out too. "it's not an excuse, but none of us knew how to tell you about leila. you seemed so happy, and i knew she'd do this when she started talking about switching teams. i didn't think it'd get so out of hand."

"were you listening to us?" you asked. alexia nodded her head as she started driving. you knew that she wasn't taking you back to your apartment. "did you know it was with so many girls?"

"no, it's never been that many before," alexia muttered. you could see that she wasn't just angry. "you were supposed to be different for her. i believed in her not to do this again. i'm sorry, if there's anybody you should be mad at, it's me, not ona. i'm the one who knew about this pattern. don't ruin a friendship with someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire."

"it's hard right now. all i can think about is that she knew," you admitted. alexia sighed as she squeezed your hand. "i could have done the same thing to leila, but i didn't. why did she have to do that to me?"

"sometimes, she's careless about things that she shouldn't be. she was careless with your trust. it's hard, but try not to think about her. don't give her a second thought, because eventually, the pain will subside along with your feelings for her," alexia said. you tilted your head to the side as you realized that she was speaking from experience. "do you want to be alone right now or can i come inside too?"

"don't you have practice?" you questioned. alexia shrugged.

"not if you need a shoulder to cry on," she told you. "let me know what you need, and i'll do my best to get it for you."

"i want you to come with me, and maybe, when practice is over, we can call ona," you told her. alexia nodded as she got out of the car. she got your bag for you, and for a moment, it reminded you of the way that leila had been with you in the beginning of your relationship. the only difference was that alexia didn't look at you like leila did, as if she knew that you were already head over heels for her.

[yngtort]

— fucking friends

chan | lino | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

NSFW ★

──────────

Xfem!reader : in which felix can’t stand watching you be all clingy with another man, even though you’re just friends.

You and felix are fuck buddies. casual lovers if you wanna be polite about it.

But that was it, that’s all.

Just friends who fucked because you’re too lonely to be alone, but too emotionally unavailable to be in a relationship.

You knew it and so did Felix.

So why did seeing you at a party, wrapped up around hyunjin bother him so much?

He couldn’t be jealous, there was no way. You both very clearly established that this was strictly platonic, no emotional ties to one another. Felix had even boasted about he could never fall in love with you— “me? Like you?” He laughed in your face.

This wasn’t jealousy, he just didn’t like the fact that you’re fucking around— while y’all was fucking around. Although, you both never said that this an exclusive thing. And it surely wasn’t a problem when Felix was laid up with a couple models a month ago.

So what was his problem? He couldn’t figure it out.

But he hated the way you pressed yourself against hyunjins side, letting him hold and massage your waist— or when you stood on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear. Something slutty too, he can tell by the look in your eyes.

He didn’t understand why, but every bone in his body was aching to rip you away from that blonde motherfucker, find the nearest wall, and—

“Oi, earth to Felix.” Chris waved his hands in front of his face. “Were you even listening to me? Hello? anybody home??”

“Yeah, yeah.” Felix barely replied, nor spared Chris a glance.

The older turned his head, trying to figure out what was so important— until he saw it. you and hyunjin, faces so close that y’all could practically kiss at any moment. Chris whipped his head back to Felix, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Yknow if you keep looking at her like that she might explode.”

Felix scoffed, “I was not looking at her.”

“Uh huh, sure” Chris snickered, giving his shoulder a strong pat. not only did he know about you and Felix’s sexcapades, but he also knew about the raging love boner he had for you. Too bad felix was too blind to see it for himself.

“So you’re just gonna let em steal your girl?” He asked, chucking a thumb back at the two in question.

“She’s not my girl.” Felix said through a sigh, “she’s just y/n.”

“Yeah, y/n that you fuck and feed every other day.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “whatever.”

-

As the party progressed, you and hyunjin just kept getting closer and closer. It was hell for Felix to witness— especially now since you’re all gathered at a table, playing an intense game of beer pong.

Felix had a clear view, watching with a bitter look as hyun stayed behind you. His hands rested at your hips while you slightly sway to the music playing in the background.

“Your turn, lix.” Chris said, passing the ball to him.

He just tossed it. He really couldn’t care less if it made it in or not, that wasn’t his priority. But if you, my dear reader, want to know— the ball bounced right off the edge of the cup.

“Chug, chug, chug” the table chanted as Felix downed the alcohol.

When the cup leaves his lips, his eyes catches your doey ones. It was only for a moment but there was that glint in your irises. One that meant you were up to no good. No telling what it was though.

a couple more rounds and each team was drunk, you visibly being the most intoxicated than everyone.

“This is my song!” You gushed, “cmon, let’s go dance.” Hyunjin followed you to the floor with no hesitation.

Felix Hated every second of this damn song. Not because it sucked, no- the lyrics are great. it was because he’s fucked you plenty of times to it. The song had silently became something sacred to the both of you. And now you’re bumping and grinding against hyunjin to it. what the fuck is your problem, Felix wondered.

when the tune switched, the ravenette expected you to come back to the table, but no. Instead you stood on the tips of your toes and whispered something into hyunjins ears. There you go again, being the slut that you are.

He watched as the olders eyebrows raised before flashing a dangerous grin. Hyunjin slid his hand into yours and pulled you off somewhere.

Somewhere probably with less people.

Somewhere dark.

Somewhere where he could touch you.

“Fuck.” Felix cursed, crushing the cup in his hands.

Chris eyed the younger and was about to ask what was wrong, but before he could— Felix was storming off behind you.

It was hard to keep up through the crowd of people. He lost you a couple times, but he caught the shadow of you disappearing into one the halls.

Felix rounded the corner sharply, too sharp. He almost smacked into to you completely, had it not been for the hand you held out to keep him from doing so.

“Y/n? I thought-“ his words got caught in his throat. “Where’s hyunjin?”

Felix watches the corners of your lips tug up smugly. “why?” You inquired, tilting your head to the side.

“I saw you run off with him.” He said.

“Yea, I did.” You comfirmed, fixing the collar of his shirt. You’re so close— he loved the smell of your perfume. “but that doesn’t concern you, does it ?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh but it is, lix.” She patted his shoulder. “I saw how you were looking at me all night.”

“I wasn’t.” “You were.”

Felix pressed his lips into a line. There was no point of arguing about it. “So, what? What’s wrong with that?”

You’re stepped back with a small chuckle, “nothing. It’s just fun seeing you jealous.”

His jaw clenched.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Yet followed me all the way here.” You tapped your cheek, lips pouted— you’re so sarcastic. Fuck.

“Well, if you’re not here for me then I better go find hyun.” You said before turning on your heels.

It only took a few seconds before you heard his steps right behind you. the wind was knocked out of your chest as he pushed you against the wall. You hissed, “felix-“

“Shut it, slut.” He growled, hands hungrily roaming under your skirt. His head dipped into your neck so he can bite and suck on your supple skin til it turned dark.

He ignored how you whimpered in pain, hands desperately gripping onto his leather jacket. You deserved it for acting like a bitch in heat. wrapping yourself around his friends like that— damn, he couldn’t wait to fuck you up.

“Since when did you become so easy?” He said against your skin. His fingers rubbed you through your panties, slick already coating him. He pulled them to the side, “Look at you. Don’t tell me you got riled up by hyunjin.”

“N-no. ” You stuttered out, back arching off the wall as he rolled that bundle of nerves between his fingers. “It’s because of you, lix.”

He chuckled lowly, watching as your thighs clamp around his wrist. “And how am I supposed to believe the words of a whore, hmm? wanna prove it to me?”

You nodded Dumbly, pretty little lips unable to form words. Felix grinned, happy to see you submitting so easily. He flipped you around, demanding your hands onto the wall.

His fingers looped around that frilly little fabric and pulled them down. You suck in a breath as the cold air meets Your sensitive skin. It didn’t help that you were sopping wet, nearly dripping down your legs. You reach behind you, trying to pull your skirt down but Felix slaps your hands away.

“did I tell you to take your hands off the wall?” He snapped and once again, you just nodded.

That was only cute the first time around.

His hand come in contact with your ass, making you gasp. “Words, use your fucking mouth before I do.”

“‘Mm sorry.” You slurred out, tears brimming your eyes from the stinging.

“Good,” You could hear him unzipping his pants from behind and before you know it, his tip is being pressed at your entrance.

He pushed inside agonizingly slow, letting you recognize the difference between each inch until his thighs are against yours.

“you take my dick so well….I fit perfectly.” Felix said as he admired the view of his member being nuzzled so deep inside of you. Something only he’ll only get to see.

He reeled his hips back, pulling out fully and slamming back into you. You almost drop to your knees, but Felix’s wraps a strong arm around you.

Your moans filled the hallways of the house party. If someone was to stray away from the crowd— or if the music stopped playing for a second— they would definitely hear your cries.

“Slutty little girl, letting me fuck you out in the out in the open. Are you asking for someone to catch us?”

Honestly, you can’t even focus on what he was talking about. too busy being dumbed down by his dick as it stabs your gspot. You’re drooling, legs shaking, and mumbling out weak pleads for more. So fucking needy to till you’re taking authority into your own hands, fucking your self back on his dick like it’s your own personal toy.

“Dick hungry bitch.” He glowered, pulling you up against his chest by your hair. “you’re so desperate, it’s embarrassing.”

“Lix please,” you cried- body ready to cave at his very command. “I’m so close.”

“Do you actually think you deserve to cum after your behavior?” He snapped, hand moving from your hair to your neck with a squeeze. “You wanted to fuck hyunjin so bad and yet here you are, drooling all over me.”

“I’m sorry. ‘Didn’t mean it” tears rolled down your cheeks as your core ached, stomach in a heavy knot. “just wanted your attention.”

Felix laughed at your confession, “so you planned this from the start? when did you get so smart?”

He caressed your stomach with his free hand, loving the way it bulged from how he deeply he was settled inside you. “I guess, I could let you off the hook if you’re gonna be this cute about it. “

“Please…I won’t do it again” You pleaded through your sobs.

Felix smiled hearing your words, no matter if the were true or not. Because in the end, he could just fuck you in front of everyone so they know who you belong to.

“Go on then.” He encouraged, pounding into you ruthlessly, lips on your neck as he raced his high against yours. “Cum around my dick like the little slut you are.”

When both of your peaks hit, it’s devastatingly hard. Felix fills you up with his white stripes and you worry about the mess it’ll make when he pulls out.

“Don’t let a single drop hit the floor.” He whispers into your ear.

“I-I can’t.”

“You can and will.” He says, slipping out of you slowly. He watches in amusement as you squeeze your thighs tightly, hole probably clenched, trying to keep his seed inside.

And you’re like that, as he leads you out the hallway, past the crowd— until you’re in his care seat, painting his black seats white.

“told you I couldn’t hold it.”

:)

[sweatyracoon]

Seungmin x Reader (AFAB)

(a/n): this is my first story in a while so bare with me-- TwT

Warnings: suggestive, hand and arm fetish, language, best friend! Seungmin, lemme know if I missed anything

MDNI!

You and Seungmin have been friends for nearly three years before he debuted, meeting in in high school. You two became inseparable, even after moving into dorms with the guys. You practically lived with them anyway.

The guys became your family just as they had to Seungmin, and treated you like a younger sister.

You slept on the couch of whichever dorm Seungmin was in, since they changed roommates every once and a while.

You thought of Seungmin like a brother ever since you met him, and he you, as his sister. But after his debut, puberty hit him like a truck. His features became more pronounced and less innocent like, and his body hardened and grew.

You were always chilling with the staff when they were filming or doing concerts. Seungmin always insisted you be wherever he was, as you were his anchor. He never let you stay in one spot without him.

The first time you noticed your shift in feelings was when you were watching their dance practice. Seungmin decided you should be surprised. He didn't let you know which song beforehand, so you couldn't try to predict the choreography.

Before the guys started, however, you noticed Felix grinning at you, but you had no idea as to why.

Since it was a practice day, all the boys were wearing comfortable, loose clothing, things they were confident they could dance in. Seungmin wore one of his largest sweaters, one of your favorites on him, and basketball shorts. His hair flopped lazely across his forehead, bouncing with any sudden movement.

He caught your eye before the music started, and you flashed him a thumbs up, making him smile softly.

It was one of their new songs, one you hadn't heard before, so you were entranced immediately.

The intro itself looked uncomfortable. Minho resting his back on his members feet while Felix seemed to puppeteer him from a standing position, the guys letting Minho get comfortable while they were on their backs.

That took a lot of trust.

They were all doing great, and this quickly became one of your favorites so far. But all you could do was watch Seungmin.

Even though Minho was the dancer of the group, your vocalist made dancing look so simple, so easy. The fluidity of his body make your breath hitch.

And what made you feel so weak was when Changbin said "Poppin'".

Not just Seungmin,but the entire group crouched slightly, thrusting their hips I'm circular motions while tilting their necks, exposing their Adams apples individually.

Seungmin himself has seemed to have perfected this move. He locked eyes with yours and smirked, thrusting his hips a bit harder compared to the rest, making your ears turn red and to your chest heave.

He continues while the song plays ok the background, no longer looking at you.

And once again, Changbins part arrives, with Chan, Seungmin, and Han doing the tower with their hands. And that's when you lost all sense.

Seungmins hands.

You hadn't ever once looked at his hands, but now that you saw them, they are all you can see.

Throughout the entirety of the dance practice, all you lived for was Seungmins hands.

As you say in your seat patiently, your own fingers grasped at the sweats you were wearing, feeling the sting of your manicured nails through the fabric on your thighs.

Out of breath, Seungmin walks over to you, sitting beside you as he sips on his water.

"Aside from the staff, you are the first STAY to watch that dance. What'd you think, y/n?" Seungmin said, rolling his sleeves up.

"It was really great, Min. You did a good job," you swallowed hard, now seeing the veins protruding from his lengthy arms. Dancing must be what does that to him.

"Are you okay, y/n? You look a little pale," Seungmin asked, concern etched on his face. He went to list a hand to your forehead, but you suddenly flinched back, making him freeze.

"y/n? What's wrong?" Seungmin looked hurt, but didn't touch you.

"Nothing Minnie, really."

"Seungmin, I need your help really quick!" You heard Felix shout from the doorway. You look over at him, seeing a knowing look in his eyes.

"Hold on," he said, looking back to you. "y/n. Did I do something wrong?" Seungmins breathing seems to have changed in the short period he started talking to you.

You glanced at his exposed arms and his long, slim fingers, sighing when dirty thoughts started forming in your head. Closing your eyes, only to open them with a small smile.

"Just had a moment, Min. I'm better, I promise!" You added a giggle at the end, hoping he would take it and leave.

He nodded, leaving you in the dance room as he left for Felix. Little did you know that he noticed the heat on your eyes when you looked at his limbs.

------------------------------------------------

(a/n): should I make a part two? I already have an idea, but i want to make sure this is worthy enough

Also-

WTF his arms and hands are so attractive!!!

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 4

Masterlist || Part Three || Part Five

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

It’s only been a few days since Steven officially became your baby, and you’re already eager to see him again. You’ve texted a couple of times since, though not much. You’re still trying to get to know him, and while you’re excited to have him, Steven is still a stranger.

A stranger, despite whatever kinship you feel toward him, you know practically nothing about.

You’ve decided against a background check, trying to let yourself be more open and less afraid of letting people in. After all, normal people don’t do background checks on every person they meet, at least not to the level you can pay for. You want to trust Steven, so you do.

But still, after your shopping trip, you’d slipped in an oh-so-casual, “So, have you ever been arrested for anything?” before you and Steven parted ways.

“That’s not your way of saying you have, is it?” Steven asked with a laugh. “Because I know I’m not that exciting.”

You assured him that no, you’ve never been arrested for anything, and you gave him a lingering hug. Stranger he may be, you weren’t letting a chance at physical touch pass you by.

And now, after a few days of going without, you need the sort of pick-me-up that only your baby can provide. You texted him in the morning, telling him to wear one of the new outfits you bought for him.

At first, you thought about telling him to send you a picture—proof that he did as he was told and something nice for you to look at—but then decided a surprise visit would be even better.

Seeing Steven in the sleek, form-fitting clothes sent heat rushing to your cheeks when he tried them on at the store you took him to. You found him attractive before. Cute, really. But something about the darker clothing you picked out suited him, even though he kept tugging at the shirt, unused to the fit.

The clothes were more for any dates than for work. You’re familiar with the itch of ill-fitting clothing yourself. You just want to see Steven in them in person, knowing he’s wearing them because of you. You also want to see how well he obeys when you’re not around.

Walking into the museum on your extended lunch break, you head straight for the gift shop. Steven gave you his schedule for the next two weeks, so you know he should currently be manning the register.

You spot him immediately, the all-black outfit—a button-down shirt and slacks—making him stand out against the white walls of the museum. With a stray curl falling over his forehead, he is an absolute vision. You didn’t choose Steven for his looks, but it certainly is a nice bonus for him to be so handsome.

There’s no one else in the gift shop, so as you walk up to the counter where Steven is fiddling with some candy, you say, “Hi, baby.”

Steven’s eyes shoot up to meet yours, face flushed and a small smile on his lips. He opens his mouth to say something, but you reach across the counter to brush your fingers against his cheek.

“Are you feeling alright? You look warm,” you tease.

“Just surprised to see you, is all,” he says with a light laugh.

You take your hand away and place your arms on the counter, leaning forward. “I just wanted to see how well you listen to me.”

Your eyes fall down his form, catching on his silver name tag. The metal flashes nicely against the dark background of his chest.

“Isn’t that the whole point? Why wouldn’t I listen to you?”

“Some babies like to be brats. With the right mommy or daddy, it works out. But I need to know you can listen before you start testing limits.” Steven’s eyes darken ever so slightly.

“And what’ll happen if I ever decide not to listen?” he asks lowly, leaning close to you.

Your heart pounds in your chest. “Then mommy will have to teach her baby a lesson.”

The door to the backroom suddenly opens, making Steven jump back and rob you of his reaction. He goes back to moving the candy around, pretending to look busy while you stay leaning on the counter.

“You realize you’ve got a customer, Stevie?” Donna says as she walks past, making your eye twitch. You wonder if she’s like this with everyone or just Steven.

“He’s already waiting on me,” you say, making sure your tone is low and disinterested, showing her that you don’t care about what she’s saying.

At Steven’s confused look, you continue, speaking much more sweetly to your baby. “He’s picking out candy for me.”

He immediately starts playing along. “Yes. Here you are, ma’am,” he says, putting down two random bags. One contains chocolate scarabs that you’re sure Steven’s told you tastes like wax and a bag of sour gummy mummies that apparently aren’t very sour and could be mistaken for rubber.

Steven rings you up, continuing the charade. After he hands you the receipt, you glance over your shoulder at Donna. Her back is turned, but that doesn’t mean she’s not listening. You’ll have to ask Steven how nosey she is.

Turning back around, you brush your hand against his where it lays on the counter.

“I have to go back to work,” you whisper. “But you’ll call me later.”

“I will,” Steven nods, and you’re pleased he understands it isn’t a question. You give him one last smile and leave the gift shop with your bag of souvenir candy in hand.

“Why do they even sell this stuff?” you ask, phone pressed to your ear with one hand while you eat another gummy mummy with the other. “They’re horrible.”

“I told you not to eat them,” Steven says on the other end of the line. He timed the call perfectly, your phone ringing as soon as you walked through your door. You’ve told him roughly the exact minute you get home every day just so he could do this. “Are you still eating them?”

“I’m trying to figure out why they’re crunchy.” Steven gags.

“Why don’t you make yourself real food instead of eating some extremely questionable sweets?”

You pause for a moment before tossing the bag aside. “Is my baby trying to tell me what to do?” You’re not mad, but you’re definitely not passing up an opportunity to tease him.

“N-no?” Steven answers, sounding unsure.

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“I—well, I just worry that you’re not going to have a proper dinner,” Steven says. A perfect way of saying yes without saying yes.

Amused, you say, “Aw, that’s sweet of you to worry. Thank you, baby.” You think you hear him sigh in relief. Done with your teasing, for now, you move on. “I haven’t asked: how was your day?”

“Not bad, actually,” he answers, sounding a little surprised about it. “Everyone was really nice today. Nicer than normal anyway.”

“Oh? Why do you think that is?” You get up from the couch, grabbing the offensive candy to throw away.

“Haven’t a clue,” Steven says, flabbergasted. “Some of the kids’ mums were smiling at me a lot, too.”

This makes you pause. “Steven, do you really not know?” you ask with a laugh and lean against the counter.

“Know what?”

“They thought you looked good. Guess I’m not the only one who sees how pretty my baby is,” you purr. You don’t mind other people admiring Steven; he’s certainly deserving of it.

“No,” he denies. “That couldn’t— People don’t— Not about me.”

“That outfit I had you wear probably had something to with it. It shows you off more than your other clothes.” He doesn’t say anything. “Steven?”

“Just feels strange. I’m…not used to it.”

You hum. “And do you like it? The attention?”

You’re about to remind him that he needs to answer you when you hear a quiet “Yes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting attention, Steven,” you assure him. “Why do you think I have sugar babies?”

He’s still quiet. You’ll have to do something about his confidence, convince him of the effect he can have on people. You drop the topic for now, though, knowing that it’s not something that can be forced.

“I want you to come over for dinner this weekend,” you say. 

“Oh?” Is all Steven says, having been lost in thought.

“Yes, so you need to tell me what kind of food you like so I can figure out what to make.”

“You don’t have to make anything for me,” Steven says quickly. “I can just—”

“Steven,” you cut him off. Standing in your kitchen with Steven only on a phone call instead of a video chat, all you have to glare at are your cupboards. “Why did I ask you to be my baby?”

“Because…” The question seems to stump him. You stay silent, letting him think. “Because you want to take care of me?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s just…some of the things I read…,” Steven stutters. “Aren’t I supposed to be doing things for you?”

“You do do things for me, Steven. I don’t want you to wait on me hand and foot. Everybody else already does that for me. I want your attention. Your affection. I want to spoil you and show you that you deserve everything. If you ever decide you genuinely want to do something like that, you can, but not because you feel like you have to. That’s not your job here, do you understand?”

After a moment, “Yes.”

“Good boy.” Steven lets out a cough that sounds like he’s trying to cover something up. A grin finds its way across your lips. “Oh? Do you like it when I call you a good boy?”

“Mhmm.”

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” Steven says so quickly, so quietly, you almost miss it.

Your first impression of him wasn’t wrong; Steven is so much fun.

You hate cooking. Well, it’s not so bad when the recipe is easy, and you’re not making very much. When it’s more complicated, you get annoyed at all the work you have to do, especially when you’re cooking alone.

By the time you sit down to eat, you’re fine, but that doesn’t stop your grumbling every time you do it. It’s gotten easier over the years of cooking just for yourself, but it doesn’t mean you’ve come to enjoy it.

Because of that, you nearly wish you had asked Steven to arrive early to help you. But you didn’t. Couldn’t. This is for him, and you don’t want him to worry about a thing. With how he reacted to you wanting to cook for him, you suspect he’s used to putting people before himself. Either feeling like he’s an inconvenience or because he genuinely would rather do things for others, you’re not sure.

By the time he arrives, you have everything done and left on the stove to keep warm.

When he walks in, he’s already wide-eyed. Your apartment is large and spacious, with tall windows to let the light in. The decorations are a combination of help from a professional interior designer and your own eclectic preferences. Admittedly, it all clashes, but you like it. It gives your home a lived-in feeling as opposed to the sterile stock image look you see other people’s apartments and houses have.

“Your apartment has an upstairs,” are the first words out of Steven’s mouth, his eyes locking on the staircase at the other end of the room.

“Yeah, but it’s just the master bedroom and a little bit of extra space.” The extra space is the walk-in closet, but he’ll find that out when you give him the tour.

You take Steven’s hand and lead him to the kitchen and your small table. “Come on. Let’s eat, and I’ll show you around after.”

And if you thought he was gaping at your home, he looks even more in awe when he sees what you prepared for him.

Nothing fancy, in your opinion, though it certainly looks it. Steven looks amazed—touched at the sight of everything you have set out on the counter and stove.

“You made all this for me?”

All this being ratatouille with polenta and some seasoned rice. There’s also a baguette you had your assistant buy for you in the morning since the bakery usually sells out long before the end of the day. A fairly easy meal once you got past all the vegetables that needed to be chopped. And you’re certainly not going to admit that after several Google searches, you only picked ratatouille because you recognized it from a movie.

“Of course I did it all for you,” you say. “Did you think I wouldn’t make something nice for you?”

“It’s not that…” Steven starts before pausing. Then, taking a breath, he looks into your eyes and squeezes your hand. “Thank you.”

You beam at him, happy that he likes what you’ve done for him, that he appreciates it. You tilt your face up and press a soft kiss to Steven’s cheek. “You’re welcome, baby,” you whisper, your lips brushing his skin.

When you pull away, you see Steven’s face is flushed. He stares down at you wide-eyed and shifts a little, looking like he’s about to lean toward you, but stops himself.

“You know,” you say slowly, “You can do that to me, too, if you’d like.”

You’ve noticed that you’re initiating contact between the two of you, and you wouldn’t mind at all if Steven reciprocated. Especially since, if you’re reading him right, he looks like he wants to.

“Yeah?” he says softly, pupils a little wider than before.

You nod and wait.

Then, ever so slowly, Steven leans down and presses a swift, chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whisper when he pulls back. Steven smiles shyly at you. Tilting your head toward your kitchen table, you say, “Let’s eat.”

Steven adored the dinner you made for him and, by extension, adored you. His expression was soft, sweet, and unbelieving when he looked at you. Every time he looked away, he seemed surprised to find you still there when he looked back.

The same adoration was in your eyes. You love giving your babies new experiences and how grateful they were to you for it. For Steven, it’s that and more. He acts like no one has ever made him a meal before. Like no one has ever thought of him and what he might like.

Perhaps no one has.

And that makes this all more special for you, makes Steven all the more important. If that is true, if Steven really has been lacking such kindness, you’re glad you found him, glad that he agreed to be your baby. Whatever his past may have been like, you’re here now to show him that he can have and deserve such nice—and, at times, simple—things.

After dinner and dessert—a specialty vegan cake your assistant also bought as there was no way you could take on the already complicated science of baking and make it more difficult by making it vegan—Steven insisted on helping you clean up. You weren’t going to argue, not when you hate cleaning up more than cooking alone. And besides, just because you want to care for Steven doesn’t mean you want him to laze about and become someone who expects everything to be handed to him. You don’t like your babies suddenly losing their morals when money comes into the equation.

“There’s something I want to show you,” you say as you put the last dish in the dishwasher.

“Oh? Time for the grand tour?” Steven asks as he stands up straight, having put the leftovers in the fridge for you.

You nod and take Steven’s hand. He happily follows you as you pull him toward the living room, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He marvels at everything, from the size to the view to even the furniture. Part of you understands why he would be so astounded; your apartment is quite large compared to more affordable ones in the city, but it still feels small to you. Though that’s more likely because you’ve been in the sprawling homes of your associates where most of the rooms are for display rather than use.

You show him your office, the bathroom, and the spare room. You don’t consider any of it all that fascinating and are more interested in taking him upstairs, but you give him time to admire everything all the same.

As you both start towards your bedroom, you feel Steven slow, his hand pulling in yours as he hesitates but not enough to force either of you to let go.

“You said your bedroom was up here?” Steven asks, sounding nervous. You know immediately what he must be thinking.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you,” you assure him. “There is genuinely something I want to show you. I suppose I could have done it downstairs, but I think my closet is the best place.”

“Your closet?” Steven’s shoulders slump, the tension draining from them, but his nervousness is replaced by confusion. Even so, he takes a step up, willing to follow you.

“You’ll see,” is all you say.

You don’t linger in the bedroom, not even allowing Steven to marvel at your large bed or the ensuite bathroom. Instead, you take him straight to your walk-in closet, flicking on the light as soon as you walk through the doorway.

Steven stops in his tracks, and here you let him look around. Dropping his hand, you step forward, walking toward the middle of the room.

“I’m pretty sure your closet is as big as my entire flat,” he says, staring at your racks of clothes, the shelves holding shoes and handbags, and the slim locked drawers you use to hold just some of your jewelry.

“Do you want a bigger place?” You assume he will; all of your babies do.

“Oh, no, that’s alright. It’s not too bad, and then I’d worry about Gus. Wouldn’t want him getting upset at a sudden move,” Steven laughs and you let out a light one of your own. You make a mental note, though, to look for something for him. If his apartment really is as big as your closet, you want Steven to live somewhere more comfortable.

“What I want to show you is over here,” you say, gesturing to the semicircle of three mirrors placed in the wall in the middle of the room.

Steven’s brow furrows, but he steps forward anyway. You take him by the shoulders and turn him toward the mirrors. Then you make him step forward so he’s standing right in front of them with you plastered to his side.

“Tell me what you see.” Keeping your hands on his shoulders, you meet his eye through the mirror.

“...Me?” Steven answers after a moment, still confused.

“Describe yourself,” you gently order. “How do you look?”

“I look alright, I suppose,” Steven starts slowly. “My hair’s a bit of a mess, but when isn’t it?” He laughs lightly, brushing the curls away from his forehead only for them to fall back into place.

You hum but don’t say anything. Your hands slide down to his upper arms, and you press yourself close to him.

“I…probably look a mess most of the time, actually,” Steven quietly admits. “My clothes are a little odd. Even you think so, what with all those clothes you bought for me. I don’t think—”

“Do you think you’re attractive?” you interrupt. You’ve heard enough and don’t want Steven voicing more self-perceived flaws.

Steven looks away from his reflection. “I-I don’t look bad, but I wouldn’t say—”

“But you like it when people find you attractive.” Steven doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to; he already told you he did the other night.

“Is it because it makes you feel desired? Wanted?”

Steven tenses underneath your hands but still doesn’t speak.

You look away from the mirror to look at his face directly, even though you only see the side profile.

“Do you not feel wanted, Steven? Is that why you enjoy attention from strangers?” you ask, your voice soft, quiet.

“I’m just not…good with people,” Steven finally says. “It’s hard, and I haven’t got an—a lot of friends. Most people I meet end up thinking something about me is odd…”

“I’m like that too,” you tell him, turning back to the mirror to look at yourself, to look at who you’ve become, who you are. You didn’t get to where you are by forcing yourself to be what others wanted you to be. “But that doesn’t mean you’re worth less than other people or that nobody wants you. It just means that you have to find the right kind of people to connect with and who will understand you. Forget the rest of them.”

Turning back to Steven, you reach up with one hand, placing your fingers under his chin to tilt his face up. “Stop looking at yourself how other people see you. Do you see anything different?”

Steven looks up, glancing at all three mirrors. He seemingly does a double-take when looking into the one on his right but recovers after a moment. “Not really,” he says, but something in his voice is different, making you think you’re getting through to him.

“I’ll tell you what I see then. I see a man who’s a delightful mix of adorable and dangerously handsome, a powerful combination if he learns how to control it. I like his messy hair.” You run a hand through his hair, starting at the back of his head and raking your fingers along his scalp. Steven lets out a soft gasp and shivers under your touch as you drag your fingers back down the same way.

“And I like his odd clothes and how at home he looks in them. How he isn’t trying to be someone else with what he wears.” You trace the back of a finger down his cheek. “I like how soft his face gets when he smiles, the lines that show his old joys and his new.”

Steven flushes under all your words and ministrations.

“But I think the thing that most attracts me to Steven Grant is his mind.” That, at least, makes Steven react. He doesn’t look at you through the mirror like he did earlier but instead twists around to see you from your spot just behind him.

“I like the way he speaks so fast when he’s talking about something he loves, how he can ramble for hours about it,” you continue, meeting his confused yet hopeful gaze. “How he thinks he says the wrong thing, but he’s just saying the honest thing. I like the way he looks at and experiences the world because I view it the same way. I see all of that, and it makes me want him, and I don’t understand how other people don’t.”

You pause, looking over his face to make sure he’s still listening. Then, you continue, the words soft and earnest. “You’re something special, Steven.”

When you finish, Steven is silent, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours is his only moment.

Then he surges forward, his lips crashing into yours. His nose bumps against yours, and his teeth unintentionally catch your lip. It’s awkward and unpracticed, but it steals your breath all the same.

Just as your hands move to rest on his chest, as you try to tilt your head to kiss him properly, Steven pulls away.

“I’m sorry!” he apologizes, but you note that he makes no attempt to step away from you. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s too soon for me to be doing that, isn’t it?”

Despite his words, you only see the barest hint of regret on his face. Mainly, you see hope.

Giving him a soft smile, you say, “There’s no such thing as too soon in a relationship like this.”

Taking Steven’s face in your hand, you pull him back to you. He breathes a heavy sigh against your cheek as soon as your lips touch. His eyes slip closed as he falls into the sensation, letting you take the lead. Your hand stays on his cheek while the other rests on his chest, where you can feel his heart pounding. His hands tentatively rest on your waist before he tightens his hold.

Not wanting to overwhelm him, you keep the kiss light and slow. You want to devour him, but there will be plenty of time for that in the future. Yes, there’s no such thing as too soon, but you want to savor every first you have with Steven.

When you pull away, you swear you hear a slight groan come from the back of Steven’s throat as his lips chase yours.

You try to hide your smirk when you say, “Let’s go back downstairs.”

Steven seems a little disappointed but follows you nonetheless as you take his hand and lead him to your living room. There, you curl up together on the couch with Steven pressed to your side, leaning into you.

You don’t kiss again, though you desperately want to. You need to make sure, even though he initiated it and was very receptive when you kissed him, that Steven is comfortable with the pace of the relationship. You need to know that kissing you wasn’t something done out of overwhelming emotion that he wouldn’t repeat if he had been thinking clearly. 

You set the standard that nothing had to happen between the two of you after all.

The evening wears on and eventually slips into night, with you and Steven alternating between talking and watching some random show you put on. Not once does he try to leave your side.

It’s comfortable, relaxing. More importantly, it makes you happy. Happy to be here with Steven, happy that he’s yours.

You don’t ever want to let him go.

“Stay the night?” you offer him once it’s deemed too late for him to return to his place. “I have the guest room set up for you.”

Steven looks at you, an eyebrow raised. “Did you plan this?” he asks, a smile creeping across his lips.

You had, in fact, planned this. The guest bedroom has always been for your babies, but you were especially excited to set it up for Steven. You kept the decorations sparse and more like what can be found in the rest of the apartment. You don’t make the room too personal to you in case your baby wants to personalize it for themselves.

But despite eagerly anticipating his first night in your home, you didn’t want to order him to stay. You figured if he really wanted to leave, he would have said something sooner or even turned you down now. Much like with the kiss, you want Steven to make certain moves even though he’s the baby in this relationship. But spending the night in your apartment, in separate beds with no intention of having him crawl into yours, is something you’re willing to push on a little bit.

You shrug instead of answering Steven, though the truth is obvious. “You don’t start until eleven tomorrow, so you don’t have to rush to get home in the morning,” you say, trying to convince him.

Steven just shakes his head and smiles. “I would say I don’t have clothes or anything, but I suspect you’ve already taken care of that.”

“What kind of sugar mommy would I be if I hadn’t?” You stand and start toward the guest bedroom. “Come on and tell me how I did.”

Steven dutifully follows you before stepping past when you pause in the doorway. He goes to the closet first, having already glanced around the room during the tour. It’s not a walk-in like yours, but it’s still large with double doors. Steven grabs both handles and pulls the doors wide to dramatically reveal the contents.

He pauses at the sight of the wide assortment of clothes, and your heart beats nervously in your chest. You think he’ll like everything, but you need him to tell you. Steven reaches in and pulls out one of the many patterned shirts he’s favored every time you’ve seen him. There are also solid colors to give him variety, as well as dressier pieces that match what he took home with him, but you’re most proud of the patterns, having picked them all out yourself.

“Try it on. Make sure it fits,” you say, though you already know it will. You were there when his measurements were taken at the boutique.

Steven doesn’t put it on, though you see him check the size. He already knows how it’ll fit, too. You made sure to check his preferred size for his old clothes when he was trying on the things you selected while shopping, knowing it was different than the more form-fitting clothes you picked out.

“This is like my clothes,” he says softly, looking over at you as he pulls at the hem of the shirt he’s currently wearing, another slightly oversized, oddly patterned piece.

“I like your clothes,” you tell him honestly, repeating your earlier sentiments as you approach him. “I’ll still have you in the nicer stuff on occasion, but I like seeing you in this kind of stuff more. It suits you.” You run a hand down his chest, admiring how the shirt looks on him.

“Thank you,” Steven says, sounding breathless.

Despite wanting to wait for Steven to kiss you again, you reach for him anyway. You control yourself, though, and place a tame kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you say softly, your lips so close to his.

“I feel like I’ve been dreaming ever since I met you,” Steven whispers, sounding as if he’s afraid he’ll wake up any moment.

“And you haven’t even experienced the half of it yet,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his middle. “So I take it I did a good job?”

Steven’s free hands come to rest on your back, his fingers lightly stroking back and forth as he flexes them. “I love it,” he says, looking at you like you hung the moon.

Smiling at him, you press a quick kiss to his cheek and step away. “I’ll let you get some sleep. You should have everything you need either in here or in the bathroom.”

“You’re leaving?” Steven asks, not wanting to let you go.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” You say it jokingly, but you would have no issue making sure Steven was snuggled up in bed and giving him a goodnight kiss.

Steven flushes and mumbles, “I-I don’t need…” before trailing off. Not quite a no, but not a yes either. You tuck that information in the back of your mind for later.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” you tell him, stepping out of his grasp.

“Wait!” he calls as you reach the door. You pause, turning back to face him. “Can I…kiss you again?”

You try to hide your excitement. “Of course you can.” You don’t move from your spot in the doorway, wanting Steven to come to you.

He puts the shirt back in the closet and slowly steps close to you. He gazes down at you for a moment, and you notice how wide his pupils are, engulfing the brown almost entirely. When Steven’s lips touch yours for the third time tonight, your skin starts to buzz. You need to leave before you push your sweet boy too far.

Your skin is thoroughly heated when he pulls away, and you’re both left breathless despite the relative sweetness of the kiss.

“Goodnight, Steven,” you whisper, forcing yourself to take a step back.

“Goodnight,” he says back. 

You force yourself to turn and walk away, and you notice you don’t hear the sound of the bedroom door closing until you’re up the stairs and out of sight.

You don’t sleep in. You couldn’t even if you wanted to, not with Steven in the room below you, so close at hand. It’s early yet, but you want to make him breakfast before he has to leave. He has to feed Gus, so you doubt he’ll be able to stay long. You want to spend as much time with him as you can today.

Quickly making yourself presentable in case Steven is already awake, you rush down the stairs. You glance toward the bedroom before heading toward the kitchen but pause when you see the door has been left open.

The bathroom door is also open, showing he’s not in there. In fact, after a quick glance around your apartment, you don’t see Steven anywhere. The floor plan is relatively open, even with the wall separating the living and dining rooms. There are few places to hide.

Confused, you call out, “Steven?”

There’s no response, but you can’t say you expected one.

Walking into his bedroom, you see the pile of his clothes from yesterday on the floor near the foot of the bed. The sheets are pulled into place but mussed enough to tell you that someone other than your cleaning lady has touched them.

You run your hand along the spot where Steven presumably slept, but the sheets feel cool to the touch.

Steven is gone and has been for a while.

Series taglist: @multific @uncle-eggy @kezibear @local-mr-frog @peachyrue-777 (unable to tag)

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[mr-bas00nist]

Hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request TF 141 x male reader, reader is supposed to be nobody, there was nothing on his file (in less his file is fake?) Reader was given a choice death row or military it's not like reader had anything to lose so he joined. For a newbie reader's skills are above average as if by design, even his file says he has never killed but he's to cold and ruthless to not have.

Reader never used to be like this but he just learned earlier life can be cruel and if you want live you have to fight (if it's okay can reader have PTSD & depression from things like abuse/SA??)

Maybe reader is asked to do secret solo missions as favors holding the I gave you your freedom back card over his head?

How would the team react to reader and the lack of information? Would they confront him? How would the react to reader not knowing what true kindness is growing up in the a world where he was taught kindness doesn't come free?

Sorry this took so long btw! I chose headcannons though and what the boys are like to you.

Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap and Alejandro

141 and male! Reader

Simon

•When you first came to the task force Simon was threatened by you in a different way

•You we’re scary

•You had nothing on your files and you looked like you had just come out to the deepest pits of hell

•He thinks you’ve probably massacred millions

•He does not trust you

•Something about your vibes and vagueness of everything about you

•Ghost is honestly an asshole just not outright

•He definitely keeps his distance and ignores you

•Until Price recognized his cold behavior towards you

•In a team everyone needs to trust each other

•Price knew that Simon had to get over his bullshit and at least talk to you

•One day in the barracks you were sitting on your bed reading

•Simon looked at your form

•You always looked tense and angry

•He sighed as he finally walked over to you

•You stared at him confused

•This was the first time he even acknowledged your existence

•He began to talk to you, about random stuff

•Than the conversation began to get deeper and deeper

•He talked about his rough childhood as you talked about yours

•As you two began to talk he realized how similar you both were

•By the time he was done talking with you he understood completely

•After that day you guys became friends

Gaz:

•Gaz found you scary when you first came in

•When he heard rumors that you had no files that terrified him even more

•But he never judged you for it

•He began to talk to you

•he was curious about your background

•When you finally told him he was very understanding

•He doesn’t treat you any differently

•He’s that one friend you can always lean on

•And laugh too

•Ver nice boy 💪

Soap:

•He honestly does not care

•It interests him for a little bit but he doesn’t press you about it

•He just talks to you

•He likes to see people’s personalities in person not on paper

•So when he begins to talk you he immediately likes you

•Your very serious and mature but your also very nice

•He’s used to Simon’s shit so he’s used to you

•When you finally tell him your story he doesn’t really say anything

•He just listens to you

•He wants to make sure you know he cares

•Well he kind of has to confront you

•Your being assigned to his team and your a blank fucking slate

•He’ll be respectful but he has to question you

•Where you came from, your values, personality, troubles and all

•When he finally did some deep diving on you he honestly wanted you out

•You we’re practically a lunatic

•Price decided to ask you personally though

•He wanted to know where you came from and how your early life was

•You can’t see it that well but his demeanor softens a lot

•His eyes aren’t as hard and his muscles aren’t tightened

•He sighed after you told him

•He sent you on all the stealthy mission due to your skill for a newbie and everything

•He does his best to make sure the boys are being nice to you too

•Don’t expect him to pamper you though

•Alejandro’s a weird case to be fair

•He won’t engage that much with you

•He heard about your documents and files and he didn’t really trust you

•He just keeps his distance but if you talk to him he won’t ignore you like Ghost

•He saw your skills before and was incredibly impressed and understood finally

•You 100% have definitely been through something

•So one day he confronted you

•You two hit it off and you began talking

•You two talked for hours

•He felt a little bit bad for judging you but you didn’t take offense

•It’s the military, not a playground

•But don’t worry, Alejandro’s got your back

•He’s got everyone back no matter where they came from

[carionto]

I heard in the canteen that the humans once used a few antique combustion engines to start one of their portable stars. Any truth to the rumor?

Ah jeez, that was one hell of a day for that guy.

Yes and no. Where do I even being...

Okay. So this place up in Greenland called, uh... I'm gonna butcher this so bad, Hjeilhornhentrotnenheim, has an engineering museum, right? Right, and the guy in charge, his name is, ah fuck this is gonna be bad too ..., Hansinguaq Bjerresvontsgaardsen (I'm just gonna call him Hans from now on because uh yeah, no), collects all the things not fit for display in his personal transport ship. He's essentially converted it into his private mobile museum.

Not long after we established diplomatic channels and preliminary trade routes, Hans eagerly went off on his own to visit Alien equivalents to museums and such. Spent a solid three weeks traveling, sight-seeing, and adding things to his collection.

During a stop on the outer reaches of Coalition space his computer blue screened and forcibly shut down the reactor and pretty much wiped his communication array address book among other less relevant components. And no, I have no clue why he went so far out. He's 46, midlife crisis is my guess, telling him to go out on daring adventures or whatever. Anyway, he couldn't restart the fusion reactor while the inhibitor rod chambers were open, they open and shoot out the star canceler in an emergency shutdown, but one was stuck with the rod half-way in, so Hans had to manually open the reactor and fix it by hand.

Problem is, his transport ship, the Veritable Greenhorn, is fairly big, and the reactor's outer diameter was about 37 meters. Even in zero-g that's a lot of mass for one person to move, not to mention how much force you'd need to pry out a hyper dense metal alloy rod from a gate meant to withstand the pressure of a star right next to it. But he did have a lot mechanical power at his disposal, it just needed to be... rearranged.

Now, he did have backup generators that quietly hum in the background like on every Human vessel, but these are passive and nowhere near enough to charge the hyperdrive even if he could tell it where to go, let alone power machinery to counter a thousand ton jammed deadbolt. He needed something that had a kick to it, something you could really rev beyond its limits just long enough. He needed his V6s and V8s.

After almost two days of DIY engineering details I won't bore you with because I fell asleep when he explained them himself, Hans fired up the engines. It was a very tedious five hours of the engines rythmically tugging the deadbolt a tenth of a milimeter open and what is basically a massive jackhammer pummeling the rod back in. At one point he ran out of gas and was forced to sacrifice his alcohol collection.

Suffice to say it barely worked, all of the machinery he cobbled together became practically unusable, but it worked and he was able to restart the fusion reactor.

Oh, he didn't come home or anything by the way. Like I guess, midlife crisis. If anything, success has made him think nothing can get in the way of his Galactic exploration quest.

So that's the story. No, he didn't use combustion engines to start the reactor or anything, but lacking any other means to fix a problem I honestly didn't know could happen, the petrol guzzlers gave him the right kind of horsepower.

By the way, if you get a chance to tour the Veritable Greenhorn, I'd recommend it. I can't even begin to describe how that contraption looks, it's one of the main displays. I guarantee it's the most specific purpose built and rough pieces of Human engineering you will ever see.

[dcawritings]

Sun keeps distracting you while you’re trying to get through your training.

Or well, his hands do.

Just paint it.

Paint the picture.

The numbers.

Follow. the. damn. numbers!

No amount of mental screaming could keep you focused—your eyes were locked onto the animatronic practically looming over you from the other side of the craft desk.

“Well?” he says, clapping his hands together. “Are ya done yet? Are ya?”

Your cheeks fill with heat, but you shake your head rapidly in response. Sun looks mildly disappointed, but otherwise continues staring at you with that blank, unchanging smile of his. Amazing how much expression an animatronic could have without proper face rigging—but it’s not his face that’s distracting you from your task.

It’s his hands.

They’re huge.

It’s not that as though they’re disproportionate to the rest of him either. Sun’s overall design is somewhat cartoonish, but his lanky frame and wide faceplate were part of the aesthetic!

And so were his large, dexterous hands.

There were probably plenty of good reasons that he'd been designed like that. Plenty of good, wholesome reasons that were many times removed from what you are thinking about right now.

Gods, you hope so.

“You’re lookin’ awfully distracted there, new friend,” Sun’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts with surprising ease. When your focus shifts back, you see the bot cross his arms and loom even closer. How is it possible for him to look jealous? “What’s more important than arts 'n crafts time with Sundrop?”

Oh fuck. Jesus. There’s gotta be a believable answer somewhere. Think, think, look around and come up with something smart to throw him off—

“Your hands.”

Fuck.

The words had slipped out faster than you could stop them, fueled by instinct and arousal than sense. But maybe they were too quick, too incomprehensible against the background noise for Sun to have truly understood what you said. Maybe if you just pretend nothing was wrong and continued trying to color in the empty canvas, then he'd—

“That’s such a strange answer, new friend! My hands? I'm not even putting on any shadow puppet shows! Now, what about them is soooo distracting?”

He gestures with them as if to make a point, palms open and fingers spread apart as if he was ready to give you a solid high-five. As much as you want to say it doesn’t affect you, it really does. The sight makes your mind spin and your stomach leap into your throat; when he wiggles his fingers it only makes you more aware of how long they are, how detailed each joint was, his range of motion the same if not more flexible than a human.

Suddenly, all you can think of is what it might feel like to have his hand between your legs. How good it would be to have him coo and whisper soft little things while he gently rubs those fingertips over your clit—or maybe even a few little backhanded compliments while he presses a digit or two inside. Could… could your body take more than one? Two? Would Sun be rough with you? Tease you?

Bully you?

“Hellooooo?” Sun says, waving one of those stupid sexy big hands in front of your blazing hot face. “Time is limited, new friend, hurry it up! Do I need to repeat those instructions about painting by numbers again?"

Maybe it's your own emotions coloring it, but Sun sounds annoyed. He drums his fingers of both hands over the edge of the desk and leans closer until he's looming over you again.

He's... really tall, you realize. You'd worked with him before, yes, but your overall experience with the daycare attendant was minimal; that's more than likely why you were assigned this kind of quarterly training. The gentle taptaptap of his digits on the wood keep you vaguely distracted as you answer,

"N-No need for any of that!" you waved the paint brush as if to give greater weight to your words. Its not as if you'd forgotten how to paint, so he didn't need to repeat anything.

You'd probably start blushing if he did—the sharper his comments became, the less you found yourself able to mix colors together despite the fact that there were only three to even mix. How do you make purple again…?

“Oh really~?” Sun’s form looms forward so much that his shadow falls over you. Purple. Purple is—red and blue, yes. Just ignore him. “Because you’ve been lookin’ at my hands an awful lot. And you haven’t even started with your picture yet!”

“I’m just. I’m thinking okay?”

He tilts his faceplate, disdain and disbelief heavy in his words. He finally reaches out and catches your chin between his curled forefinger and thumb. You can feel the warm silicone padding brush over your lips as his voice sheds away the fake layer of hyperactive enthusiasm.

“And what are ya thinkin’ about, new little friend?”

It’s impossible to even form words in that moment. Your heartbeat quickens, and blood starts to rush through your ears. He knows. He has to know.

“I uh… I just…”

“Hm? Just what?”

Before you can stammer more nonsense, Sun’s thumb brushes across your lips. His pupils hone in on your mouth and, slowly, the tip of his thumb presses almost expectantly at the seam, pressing down on your lower lip and against your upper teeth.

You, of course, say absolutely nothing. The entirety of your face feels as if on fire, burning hot against the cool silicone padding over Sun's fingers.

"Open."

You blink several times in incredulous disbelief. No, surely you missheard, misunderstood what he said and twisted it into something you wanted to hear instead—

“Starlight~” Sun says, tone soft and lyrical before it suddenly drops all pretense of fake cheer. “Open your mouth.”

You barely drop your jaw before Sun pushes his thumb inside your mouth, the pad pressing down over your tongue in a way that almost makes you gag. Jesus christ, the digit is long and thick enough that it makes your eyes water and your entire body feel as if aflame.

Meanwhile, the sound of rushing blood echoes in your ears. You can breathe, but barely—and Sun seems to take some sort of satisfaction in watching your expression transform through at least three separate emotions at once.

“Good boy.”

You shiver, eyes locked with his. Whatever is going on is happening so fast, too quick for your brain to realize how sexual it must look to anyone who might peek at the cameras. But still, embarrassment and shame aside, you stay still and let your jaw go slack—Sun watches you carefully for a few more seconds before he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and offers a wide grin.

“That’s what I had thought~!” He exclaims, voice suddenly bright and cheerful. “You’re not hard to read at all, did’ya know that? Your eyes can’t stop lookin’ at my hands—so maybe if you get through this training and show me some really good art,” his eyes narrow into crescents, “then maybe I’ll play with you some more afterwards.”

Oh.

Oh.

And with that, the weight of the air changes. It shifts back to casual so quickly there’s emotional whiplash as Sun claps his hands together again.

“C’mon now! Times a wastin’, so let’s see some hustle and’a bustle!”

[fishermanshook]

SEE YOU AGAIN (barmaid x gn!reader)

# HAPPY (early) BDAY DEMI! , day 10 of @philomena-propellente ‘a valentines event , C4L , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

Once a customer, always a customer, even if your journey ends here. Care for a drink?

꒰wc꒱ 711

The sound of chatter and drinks clinking fills the Bourbon's tavern down the main street. Except for a lone seat at the bar, every chair has been occupied in just the first hour since the bar opened for the night. The drink orders have been coming in at rapid speed this night, and the duo can only try to keep up. Demi busies herself by getting out more ingredients for her brother, Sam, as he preps their secret to success: Dovlin. The next hit in the industry has people coming in from every corner of the world trying to get a sip.

But alas, her eyes refuse to leave her brother as he mixes and shakes the unknown ingredients together to make Dovlin's recognizable color. A deep, penetrating red that looks as if it's been pulled from humans itself. While she isn't entirely sure what lies in the drink, she trusts that her brother knows what he's doing.

Unfortunately for her, a bell near the front indicates that a new customer has arrived. Neither of them can take another drink order, but Demi reassures Sam that she's got this. The Barmaid takes a deep breath in before plastering on her best-serving smile and-

And she's greeted with you. Your eyes widen at the site of her, and a big smile graces your face as you almost leap to hug her. Demi laughs into your shoulder as she spins you around. "Hi hun, how are you?" she squeals. Demi takes your light giggle as 'good' and takes you to your unofficial seat in the tavern.

You've already been stripped of your coat and spot Demi hanging it up in the back so it doesn't get stolen. Immediately, the Barmaid's attention goes directly to you. You've been gone for some time now, guess all you can do is play catch up at this point. You're distracted by the magic that Demi performs, as she does all sorts of bartender tricks with your glass. Even earn some stares from the surrounding tables as they watch the Barmaid flip the glass and pour the wine. (Low clapping can be heard in the background of the tavern. For you, Demi would practice that trick during the time you were gone. Hoping to impress you by the time you arrive.)

After she's finished, Demi has produced your favorite drink. A purple, grape-flavored juice that invades your veins with excitement. The drink itself is familiar as well and makes you feel more at home in the tavern.

"You've been gone for a month [name] now just where did you run off to?" Demi questions you as she jabs you in the shoulder. She's more than happy to see you, but that still doesn't excuse the time that's passed since your unannounced departure. You take a sip from your drink. It's cold and fizz sending your stomach in a spiral. You wipe your mouth before speaking again.

"I apologize for going AWOL on you, I promise it won't happen again," You say with an apologetic look on your face. "I got caught up on a business trip and was forced to leave as soon as possible." You can't deny that your job doesn't pay you well, which forces you to go back and forth between different departments. That's why you've been coming to this bar for god knows how long. The leather seats have ripped with age, but the nostalgia grows stronger the longer you're separated from the tavern.

You take another sip from your glass. This time, the fizzy feeling became less prominent. "I also have received a rather... interesting letter. The sender is anonymous, and I couldn't pull any more information from it besides the fact that it's offering a large sum of money in exchange for my presence in a game." You hand Demi the letter. It feels smooth in her hands, like a ticket. A ticket to freedom. To a better life. "It's a promise to something greater in this little life of ours, and I'm contemplating taking them up on the offer. Do you or Sam perhaps know anything about Oletus Manor? Hello? Demi I-"

The memory ends there, and the Barmaid wakes up in a cold sweat with dried tears on her face.

note: like 5 months latter and I still can’t write Demi properly 😞 older readers do we recognize the purple drink???

(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

I don't know if you've ever been asked this question, but I was wondering:

Did you learn to draw somewhere, or were you self-taught? Maybe you have some tips or hints for beginners? What was your favourite thing about drawing?

Sorry if this ask is too personal, but I really like your drawing style and wanted to ask some advice :D Have a good day! 🌸

it's a mix of both, really! i grew up loving art from the very beginning, like. im talking about making teletubbies fanarts and asking my dad to make me learn to draw characters from w.i.t.c.h. and tomb raider fandsndfs, according to my parents i had a pencil in my hands before i even started talking -- and that's what led me to actually learn to draw "properly", first in a art-centered high school (that. did less than good to me tbf but it was a matter of 90% of the art-related teachers being garbage) and the comics academy in torino where i think i started to truly "understand" what i wanted from my art style

if i may give some advices other than the good ol' "keep practicing and try to at least doodle something once a day", i could go with:

don't compare yourself to other artists negatively, especially those younger than you. it's probably the hardest part, but you need to "force yourself" to be positive. if you find yourself thinking "this 14 years old draws better eyes than me", go with "i love how they draw eyes, let's see if i can learn from it"

copy copy copy copyyyyy!!!!! copy from references, copy from photos, copy from comics, copy from movies. of course don't plagiarize people and then present that stuff as your own, but try to make a pose yours and learn to take pictures of your own hands, feet, face or ask people to pose if you can't find the right position

your art will look like shit to you, a LOT of times, but know that at one point you're going to quit. if you don't like what you're drawing, either quit there or restart, don't try to "fix" it because you'll just end up noticing more and more issues with it - issues that, most of the times, aren't even issues to begin with. letting go of perfectionism is very difficult, but at some point you'll have to do that--

and about perfectionism, a VERY good exercise we did in comics school was being forced to "draw fast". this isn't me telling you you NEED to draw as quick as possible, but it's an exercise that forces you to learn quickly where certain body parts go, to prioritize specific details rather than others. we had a model, and at first we had to sit there for an hour drawing her, then the hour became 30 minutes, then 10, then 5, and at the end 1. it took us a few lessons to do that, but at the end the super sketchy 1 minute copy went from ???? to a stylized human figure!!!

learn to draw realistic anatomy, and then make it your own style.

for the love of god learn prespective it's a bore it's a chore but as soon as you learn that everything becomes SO much easier

for shading, just. put a point in the canvas where the light source is and go from there!! if the light is on the right, the shades will be on the left

if you're coloring, play with the shades' colors. a good idea is to use the opposite color you use for the lights - if the light is yellow, the shades look great in purples, for example just don't use pure black unless you wanna go for a more dark/noir aesthetic oh my god

professional comic artists retrace a lot of their backgrounds. i'm js. use this as you wish :)

learn to draw different body shapes!!!! like getting out of the anime phase of "fat people are just like thin people but with a huge belly" can be difficult, but it's very satisfying

go out of your comfort zone. if you have problems drawing horses, spend a few days learning to draw horses. take some pics and try to understand them.

body proportions are so fun once you realize how so many things are the same. generally speaking, your spread hand is as long as your face, your feet and half the size of your arm; the outer corner of your eye is at the same level of your ear, and the inner corner is perpendicular to your nose and the corner of your mouth; if you leave your arm on your side, your elbow is at the same level of your bellybutton, and your fingers reach halfway your thighs. it's so fun

and yea, i can't stress it enough. it'll take time. art is painful, art is stressful, art can be discouraging. take a step at the time, accept some failures and celebrate any good thing - even the smaller ones. you learned to draw hands today, and you should be proud. i tried to draw a cat for the first time and it looks wonky, but the cat you will draw tomorrow will look better. i believe in you

[princeescaluswords]

Random question, Prince but do you think Victoria or Gerard had military backgrounds? Maybe serving themselves or had parents that served?

I want to preface this answer with a caveat: this might be the most speculative meta I've ever written. While I'm going to try to draw as much evidence as I can from canon, I don't think it would be out-of-the question for people to disregard it on its surface merits.

So, here goes. I don't think that the Argents would join the military and they would strongly discourage their children from joining the military. I'm sure that during the time of the draft there might have been some Argents serving, but it would be under duress. If you accept the same head canon that I do, that Victoria was also from a hunting family, she would not be either. I think the reasons would be historical, practical, and philosophical.

Historical: Of all the characters in the Teen Wolf series, Marie-Jeanne Argent née Valet had the most emotionally true (if not entirely rational) reaction to the discovery that her beloved relative turned out to be one of the most prolific serial killers in that world let alone a terrifying demonic werewolf. As we see in The Maid of Gévaudan (5x18), she reacted with outright condemnation, hunting him down over three years and destroying all trace of him with a damnatio memoriae, which in reality meant destroying her own past, too. We can assume that the Argent Code was written by her, including the part where any hunter who was Bit by a werewolf had to kill themselves. This is extreme behavior (even if valid) and it is echoed in the revulsion non-corrupted Argents like Chris and Allison had when discovering Kate's and Gerard's crimes. It was certainly less permissive than the Hale family's tendency to react to deaths caused by their family which ranged from outright condoning ("But still beautiful, just like the rest of you") to dismissive (after all, how many people did kooky Uncle Petey kill, including the guy he shoved alive into a burning barrel, and still have the keys to the family home?).

Considering that Sebastian became a demon wolf while he was serving in the French king's war with England across an entire ocean in their respective colonies, I don't think it's a stretch for Marie-Jeanne in establishing her code to steer her descendants away from military service. It might even have been a requirement.

Practical: While both the military and hunters use weapons, military service wouldn't seem to bear much resemblance to hunter training. It appears to me to be much closer to espionage or criminal work. Hunting werewolves requires training in specific weapons (bows, tasers, and poisons), technology (hypersonic emitters), and techniques (torture, infiltration, intimidation, and cleaning up evidence). In addition, the soldiers of the Argent family exhibit a level of discernment when it comes to tactics and targets that the military simply would not tolerate. Chris points as much out to Kate in Code Breaker (1x12):

Chris: No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house, ones who were human. Look what you're doing now. You're holding a gun on a 16-year-old boy with no proof he spilled human blood. 

Later on in Relics (6x04), Chris explains that he should have intervened when he saw how Gerard was training Kate. That implies to me that while Argent soldiers are supposed to follow the lead of the matriarch, they're also expected to do more than just follow orders. While civilization demands we hold individual military soldiers to answer for their conduct, I can tell you from personal experience that military training does not have a goal to instill a sense of individual agency.

Philosophical: In my encounters with real-life military people, it is my experience that they see themselves and the military as a whole as an immanent part of society itself. They enable civilization to exist; they uphold society's laws and mores as one of its pillars. I am sure that many people on this site would disagree with that assessment, but I'm talking about the perception within military culture itself. The military focus on being a vital part of their country, and when they err it is when they come to believe that they are the most important part and thus have a greater right to say how a country and a civilization will behave.

One of the things I've noticed about the Argents and the other hunting family feature, the Calaveras, is that they don't consider themselves part of the greater society. They see themselves as protecting it from monsters that the average person cannot comprehend, and while they certainly do infiltrate law enforcement and emergency services, they don't seek permanent authority over the mundane social institutions. This is one of the significant departures that marked Monroe as different from previous organized hunters, and one that made her more dangerous. Victoria, Araya, Chris and Allison (and when they weren't being selfishly corrupt, even Gerard and Kate) saw themselves as operating outside of it all as a necessity. They work with criminals like the yakuza; they hire mercenaries; and they understand that they will never be fully accepted.

Chris: We're gonna be pariahs in this town. Victoria: We can handle it.

Monroe, on the other hand, organized hunters to protect society, but she wanted to change society as well. She accused the werewolves not only of being monsters by virtue of their natures and by their acts, but by the power that privileged them ("No one should have this power"), and she accused people like Sheriff Stilinski of abetting that unfair advantage. (I will never forgive Teen Wolf for giving up on exploring that difference half-way through 6B.) Since Gerard was only interested in using Monroe, he didn't train to see herself the way he and his family saw themselves: protectors working from the outside.

All these things lead me to believe that the Argents wouldn't have military training, not even corrupt ones like Gerard or Victoria.

[ohnotagainnikole]

I told you I'll share some hcs, so here they are for HLVRAI !! Aaaand sorry for any mistakes, english isn't my first language

• sunkist & benry actually can communicate through black mesa sweet voice, and so they often do! Literally have whole conversations & sometimes Tommy could see them talking abt stuff. Benry loves sunkist.

• coomer the only one who bubby can be less aggressive with. And, considering this aggression comes from not knowing how to use the knowledges about human communication in practice, coomer is always happy to help bubby be more chill about things and tell him where to act in that way or another. 

• Darnold LOVES music and listens to it almost non stop, but he especially incapable of doing experiments without some background sounds. He's also very focused when working so one can easily scare him for he just unaware of anything besides potions at these moments. 

• Therefore when tommy's helping him he practically forced to listen to darnolds fav album of the week. But he actually likes it! He doesn't really listen to much music himself but through darnolds playlists he finds something for himself too! 

• they also dance together sometimes! 

• benrey can shapeshift but can't change some aspects of his appearance as: sharp teeth & nails, yellow, slightly glowing in the dark eyes & skin tone. 

• his eyes can work as cat's do! So in the dark they're slightly glowing (tho in their own, not because of some light source or something) & pupils are becoming bigger if he's looking at dark areas and smaller – if lookinng at lighten ones. 

• Tommy likes reading Wikipedia. Like some people read news at mornings? Tommys doing this but with Wikipedia articles. 

• coomer and bubby could be friends even when bubby was still locked in the tube. They talked from time to time, when other scientists weren't around to suspect something, and gradually became really good friends. One time bubby decided to open to coomer his plan to escape and honestly was afraid that he will lost his friend and he will tell others. But, to his surprise, though he hoped on such result, harold said he will gladly help bubby. So he did. He took care of most things – bubby couldn't really do much sitting in a tube – and finally his friend was free. 

• sometimes benrey is just not feeling like talking so he's using sweet voice. The problem is no one really can understand it. Besides Tommy. So he often either trying to translate benreys sweet voice to others or keeping him company and listening whatever he's singing. 

• considering that Tommy and benrey are friends, and in my head they are even BEST friends, I like to think that benrey teaches tommy to understand sweet voice. 

• considering coomer is a cyborg, he's eye slightly glow with green. They also change to red when he's in «killing mode».

(I wrote these uhhhh year or uhm around two years back already)

[prongsfish]

FISH YOU ARE OBLIGATED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING EVERY FUCKING THING TBAT YOU HAVE RL SAY ABOUT THEM BECAUSE I HABE A LOT AND OH MY.GOD FISH SPILL THE FUCKING BEANS

MARRY ME (PLATONICALLY)!!!!!!

okay this has been sitting in my drafts for TOO LONG but i am finally here to talk about petemary / marypeter / whatever it’s called…

i don’t often do a lot with peter because i’ve never been able to quite cement his character in my mind, but very early on in my ‘getting into marauders’ journey i started to consider petemary, before i realised it was a lot less popular than i would’ve assumed.

i just like to imagine them being friends, not particularly close but known to each other, not until all their friends start pairing off. suddenly they’re the only two not dating someone else in the group and they start spending more time together, joking about being left out. not that they’re entirely inexperienced—mary to me is definitely not, she’s at least had a couple boyfriends, even if all they’ve ever done is kiss. maybe even a girlfriend or two. she’s gorgeous and social, of course she’s dated before. i can imagine peter either being experienced or not, i like both the dynamics possible. but at that moment, they’re both single.

eventually, they start joking about getting together, things about how they might as well given everyone else has already paired off. i think mary would’ve started it, peter being a bit too reserved to initiate that sort of thing, but it became mutual very quickly. and of course it’s all just jokes until it’s not really jokes and they start sleeping together in secret. no strings attached, just for convenience, etc etc… yeah sure.

that continues for a while, and they keep spending more and more time together. it’s becoming that even when their friends are around they go off together instead, just talking, gossiping, playing chess. at the beginning they only hung out when everyone else was with their partners, but now they hang out because they want to, and it barely even has anything to do with the sex they’re having. that’s just a bonus. the ‘no strings attached, just for convenience’ starts feeling very strings attached. their feelings develop incredibly naturally, and it doesn’t feel sudden because they’ve just been growing gradually over time until they eventually became too big to ignore.

they start acting more affectionate, and they don’t talk much about it in explicit words, but they start acting more like a couple in front of others and the words of endearment expand out past only the bedroom. their friends start to pick up on it and when they ask, there’s only a moment of hesitation before they say they’re together. they never meant for it to happen that way, but it did and they’re certainly not unhappy about it.

a lot of onlookers would be surprised by their relationship, i think, because from the outside they appear very different. mary is confident, unapologetic, and highly extroverted. she’s well liked by most and similarly admired by many. peter, on the other hand, is the least notable marauder, much more of a follower than a leader. he isn’t antisocial by any means, but when stood next to james and sirius, he’s just more reserved. even remus, who IS antisocial, has his intelligence and his height which set him apart. peter is a people-pleaser, and a born sidekick, but him and mary simply get each other. they’re a lot more similar than they appear, which even they didn’t realise until they started to talk more, but once they got closer, it was practically inevitable for them to start dating. they were each exactly what the other needed in their life.

so yeah that’s them to me <3 i wish they more popular because i think they could have such an interesting dynamic but i never see them in fics. one of these days i’ll write them, at least as a background pairing… ty @saintrequlus for giving me the chance to ramble about them 🙂‍↕️

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Multitudes - Chapter Twenty

My Obedient Servant...

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov/Steve Rogers

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Fights bring out the worst in us.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 5986

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) violence, fighting, fakeclaiming, derogatory language, humiliation, lashing out when shamed, accidental injury as a result of pushing, historical SA (emotionally graphic), injury detail, subservience.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Please read the warnings, and proceed with caution. You know the drill. Takes place during Magic and Madness chapter seven, and before the start of eight (read seven first, for crossreaders). Masterlist can be found here.

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! The snazzy Black Widow divider comes from @/firefly-graphics and I love it <3 The Multitudes Universe one is our own!

<- Previous Chapter (19/72) Next Chapter (21/72) ->

I sighed good-naturedly at the calls of celebration when we entered the dining room that evening, fingers latched with Clint’s. The table was a mess of food and alcohol – and, if Tony slow-dancing by himself in the corner was anything to go by, the party had started long ago.

“Sorry we’re late, guys. Traffic,” Clint offered, biting back a smirk.

Yeah… ‘Traffic’.

Thor met my partner’s eye, beer flagon raised. “You have finally divulged your secret?”

We exchanged a look, and I nodded. “This isn’t just going to be a birthday party… It’s also a retirement party. For both of us.”

The faces before me became an odd mixture of sadness and delight, somewhere between commiserations and celebrations. Wanda was the first to step forward, her hands finding my free one, tears shining in her emerald eyes. “I’ll come and see you all the time, yes? We can practice my Russian, and talk about boys.”

I nodded, my own tears rolling down my cheeks, and pulled her into a hug. “We weren’t late because of traffic,” I murmured, hiccupping around a sob. “We were late because I got fucked on the hood of Clint’s car.”

Steve choked in the background, and I grinned sheepishly as Wanda pulled away, laughing. “You’re going to miss us really, Cap.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, then raised his glass. “I really am. To Natasha and Clint – the coup- throuple we all knew were destined to end up together.”

Amongst the murmured agreements and clinking of tumblers, I felt Widow swell with happiness. He remembered me.

On cue, Stephen cleared his throat, becoming the next to rise from the table. “If you’re all going to be leaving us… Does this mean we may finally meet the allusive Widow?”

I laughed, smirking as my gaze flicked to his long-healed throat. “You already did.”

He simply quirked an eyebrow, touching a finger to his pale skin. “I suppose I did. Though it may be nice to do so in a less… Terse capacity.”

I hummed thoughtfully, cocking my head. Well? It’s up to you.

I… I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t spoken to anyone since…

I know. But it’s okay.

I don’t understand why they’d even want to speak to me. I… I fucked everything up.

My heart broke sympathetically, and I winced. You also kept me going, Widow. You’re the reason I – the reason we’re both – alive today.

… Okay. Maybe. But not now. Not with everybody watching like this.

I nodded and smiled fondly, fingers absently brushing the silver arrow by my throat. “Later, I think.” Stephen nodded, returning to his seat, eyes flicking back to Tony with an unreadable expression.

Clint squeezed my hand, and I glanced to him inquisitively. “They’re okay with that?”

“I think so,” I replied uncertainly, ever in some degree of doubt about Widow’s feelings. “Not with everyone watching, though. They-” I interrupted myself with a snort as they muttered, and Clint’s smile switched to one of befuddlement. “They said ‘I’m not a circus attraction’.”

He laughed, placing a gentle kiss to our temple. “Y’all are flexible enough.”

It was halfway through the meal, and several drinks deep, when it finally happened.

Before our hospitalisation, we’d worked hard on smoothing out the transition – the ‘switch’, as Luna called it – when alone in our rooms.

By now it was almost seamless – less like a wrenching, more of a dance, my hand barely hesitating between table and mouth as it became theirs, slamming back a shot of vodka.

They were poured another without asking, and gave Thor a grin as they tipped it back. Yeah… He’s always up for getting people drunk.

Ah, a man after my own heart – he should come around more often.

“Hey, Widow,” Clint murmured, his arm leaving their waist instinctively when he noticed it wasn’t mine. We cocked our heads in unison – mine internal, theirs external.

“How did you know?”

He smiled weakly, a gentle finger caressing the set of their jaw. “You look different.”

They blinked in surprise, flustered. “We are identical – it is the same body.”

He shook his head fondly, taking a shot of his own from the row. “Not to me. I… Can’t explain it. It’s the same body, yes. But I just… See the difference. The way you hold yourselves. The way you look around. The way you look at me like I’m the biggest idiot you’ve ever met,” he added, chuckling, as Widow raised an eyebrow. “You both do these things, but you do them so differently.”

They hummed thoughtfully, clumsily patting the hand on his knee. “Maybe an idiot. But a very, very sweet one.”

snorted in time with Clint, both of us shocked by their words, and he grinned. “I try.”

Wanda was the next to notice.

It took around five minutes for her to begin peering at us, and five more for her eyes to widen in realisation, leaning forward across our desserts to hiss excitedly. “Is it you? It’s you, right?”

Widow simply nodded nervously, toying with the fork in their hand, and Wanda let out a soft, enthusiastic sound. “Awesome – hi! I’m so glad to meet you at last!”

They let out a breath, relieved, and smiled. “I am glad to meet you too, Wanda. I know Nat has appreciated your friendship over these last few months.”

Wanda grinned, then cocked her head curiously. “I’m your friend too, you know?”

I… I’ve never had a friend before.

Well, now you have me. And a whole family, I added, turning our head to survey the table before glancing back to the witch.

“Thank you, Wanda. That means a lot.”

It was Tony who approached us next, steps faltering and unsteady, and Widow tensed instinctively.

Oh God. Drunk Tony is… Do you need me to take over?

I’ll be okay, they replied calmly, hands curling into loose fists at their sides.

Please don’t start a fight.

I won’t start one… But I’ll finish one if he comes for us.

He squatted in front of us, squinting. “… Is it you? ‘Widow’? That’s what the Cap was saying to Vision – super-hearing, and all that.”

His sarcastic finger-quotes made me wince, but Widow simply smiled politely. “It is nice to meet you, Tony.”

He snorted, steadying himself with one hand on the table, the other bringing a bottle of scotch to his mouth to drink deeply. “’Meet’ me. Yeah. Right.”

Their head tipped in fake curiously, muscles slowly tightening. “I’m sorry?”

“Who do you think you’re fooling, Nat? That you can just say, ‘oh, I’m sorry I cut myself and starved myself, sorry I bled out all over the floor, sorry I’ve been violent and terrifying – but it’s okay, it wasn’t me, it was my other personality! And now we’re best friends, so you have to be nice to it’! Nah, that won’t fly with me, Natasha. These idiots may have fallen for your act, but I’m not that stupid. You can’t get away with the things you did just by acting like it was this ‘other person’.”

Widow breathed deeply, the room deathly silent as the gathered heroes awaited their response. “I have made mistakes, Tony. But I am trying to amend for them. Nat has, too – but together we-”

“Here we go again,” he interjected, rolling his eyes dramatically. “’We’. All this ‘we’ stuff is bullshit, Nat. You’re trying to say you’re admitting your mistakes, but you’re hiding behind this ‘personality’. Trying not to own your fucked-up behaviour. Either that, or you really are just delusional.”

Clint growled, but Widow’s hand found his arm, holding him back. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Tony. There isn’t anything I can to change your mind, however, so why don’t we just leave it alone for now?”

His unfocused eyes landed on their hand, and he smirked. “Oh, and that, too. Clint got shot for you, and you still somehow managed to make it all about poor Natasha. God, you’re selfish. And he’s an idiot.”

Widow stood then, eerily silent as they leant over the still-squatting billionaire. “I do not care what you say about me. Nat does not care what you say about her. But we will not tolerate you disrespecting Clint.”

“How do you do it, Legolas?” he slurred, peering under Widow’s arm to look at our partner while I simply sat horrified in the background. “Let’s say even if it’s true – even if this thing exists, which I still think is bullshit - look at all the things it made Nat do. It’s a monster, and it needs to be gotten rid of. How can you stand to be anywhere near it?”

Clint rose quietly behind us, neatly sidestepping our body, and, calmly and precisely, collided his fist with Tony’s nose, sending the drunken asshole sprawling and bleeding.

“Their name is ‘Widow’. They are not an ‘it’, or a ‘thing’, or a ‘monster’. And if I ever hear you speak to either of them like that again, I’ll kill you.”

“It’s not my fault your girlfriend is a psycho,” Tony muttered around the blood pooling in his mouth.

 Clint moved back to his seat with the same eerie, relaxed energy, showing no sign of hearing the comment, and began pouring himself another shot. “Now… Are we celebrating, or what?”

Tony disappeared shortly after, Stephen shooting us a sympathetic glance before following on his heels. Clint excused himself a few minutes later, muttering something about changing his bag, but we could see the residual trembles of rage and distress in his hands, the way he shook his head when we offered to come, telling us to stay and enjoy ourselves.

He didn’t come back.

After fifteen minutes, we bid our goodbyes, feet fast and frantic as we made our way up to our rooms. I’m so proud of you, Widow. What? Why?

You stayed calm. That must have been hard.

It… It was. Thank you.

We skidded to a halt, freezing at the sight of the half-open door and the sounds of retching inside.

No.

No.

Not him, too.

Please say he isn’t.

It's not the answer, Clint.

It's never the answer.

We pushed our way through slowly, halting at the wood that kept us from our partner, the wet, echoing splatter of vomit hitting a toilet unmistakable to our experienced ears.

“Clint?”

Nothing.

“Clint, honey… I’m going to come in, okay?”

When I was met with only silence, punctuated by the occasional gag, I tried the handle and was surprised when it moved easily, feeling Widow recede. I know this is hard for you. It’s okay. You’ve done so well; you can rest now.

“Clint?”

My hand found his back lightly and he whirled, panting, his face stained with tears and sick – and blood.

“Oh, Clint…”

“Get out,” he muttered, his voice thick and slurred around a fat lip.

“Now.”

“Clint, I-”

“Leave!” he snapped, rising to stand over me. I raised my hands defensively, panicked; it was then that I spotted his raw-looking stoma, bleeding freely, the contents of the missing bag splattered against his skin.

“Oh, honey…”

“Nat, I swear to God. Get out of here.”

“I don’t think I can do that. You need help.” My hand came up to his shoulder again, and his eyes flashed a warning.

It was one I should have listened to.

The second my fingers brushed his skin, his hands were on my collarbones, pushing me violently from the room and sending me sprawling. My previously broken wrist bent beneath me, weakened by malnourishment, and I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood to keep from crying out.

You said he wouldn’t hurt us.

It took almost half an hour for me to be able to breathe.

Flinching with pain, I dragged my bruised body to the table, curling up underneath it like a whipped cur, seeking some small refuge in the enclosed space, hidden from sight by the hanging tablecloth.

I pressed the button in my ear, wincing as my stomach roiled. “… Wanda? Stephen? Bruce? Is anyone up?”

I hope he doesn’t have his comms on.

“Nat? It’s late… What’s happening?”

Stephen’s voice was soft and sleep-slurred, but a welcome relief, and I had to fight to hold back my tears. “Clint’s hurt. I… I think he got into a fight with Tony. His stoma… The bag burst. He’s bleeding. He needs help, but he won’t let me in.”

There was unmistakable sounds of movement, urgent and panicked. “I’m on my way.” He paused only briefly, and I waited with bated breath. “Where are you? Are you ok?”

“Just help him, Stephen. Please.”

I cut the call, and glanced up at the ceiling pleadingly. “Don’t tell him where I am, Friday. Don’t tell him what happened. Please.”

A pause, and then the AI responded, equally soft. “You’re injured, Natasha. You need medical assistance.”

“I’ll get it, I promise. I just… I just need a minute before the questions.”

As if on cue, the tablecloth lit up, accompanied by the hissing and popping of the wizard’s sparks.

“Friday? Where are Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff?”

There was only the briefest of hesitations before the AI responded, her soft voice immediately soothing.

“Mr. Barton is in the bathroom, moderately injured and severely distressed. I recommend proceeding with caution. Ms. Romanoff is not currently available.”

I let out my breath, body trembling, wrist throbbing. Thank you, Friday.

“How can she be ‘not currently available’?” he snapped, sighing with frustration as I heard him open the bathroom door.

“Not you, either. Just leave me alone.”

“Clint, even from here I can see that you have a significant mucocutaneous separation, and with the waste both on your skin and possibly being actively released, it is paramount that-”

“I hate this, Stephen.” His voice was soft but I leant forward to listen, the tablecloth brushing my cheek. “I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t let them see me like this. I... I got so angry. Not because I was angry, but because I’m ashamed. I’m a grown man sat in his own shit. I can’t even defend them in a fight anymore. And she- when she came to see me, to help... I couldn’t cope with her sympathy. Her pity. I pushed her, Stephen. I pushed her out of this fucking room and she fell, and I didn’t even check if she was okay. I just shut the door and wallowed in my own goddamn shame.”

“I put my hands on at least one of the two people I love most in this world – maybe even both of them. How am I supposed to live with that? After everything they’ve been through, how are they ever supposed to trust me again?”

“Maybe they shouldn’t,” Stephen muttered, his tone sharp. “I warned you, Clint, not to hurt her – not to hurt them. Haven’t they been through enough? You’re angry, and upset; I get it. Believe me. I pushed away the first woman I loved – the only woman I’ve ever loved – after my accident. I didn’t want to, not really; I was just so, so angry. But I realised, eventually, that the only person to blame for how I took out that anger is me, and Christine was right to leave. Maybe Natasha would be too.”

“Fuck you, Strange.”

“Right back at you, Barton. Now, are you going to come with me willingly, or do we have to do this the hard way? Though I must warn you – a significant part of me hopes you choose the hard way. I’ll treat you because it’s the right thing to do, but Nat and Widow mean a lot to me. I won’t forgive you until – unless – they do.”

There was a heavy pause and a sigh, the sound of Clint getting up off the floor. “You think I don’t know what they’ve been through?”

“No, Clint. You don’t. You haven’t seen what they did to them – I have. It was unparalleled torture.” He hesitated, and then- “Did they ever tell you that Widow attacked me?”

“What? No. When?”

“The day they woke up. I had to check their internal stitches, and, despite having seen the damage they were left with, I was not prepared for the person I encountered – the one we know now as Widow, but who I thought, at the time, was simply Nat, deeply entrenched in a flashback. The things they said when they were remembering, Clint... The terror in their face when they came around... I’ve never seen anything like it.” He sighed, sparks crackling as he began his portal. “And that, Clint, is what you have just forced them to relieve. I don’t care how angry or embarrassed you were; I hope you are ashamed of yourself.”

I lay balled up, sobbing violently, until daylight began to creep through the windows.

“Ms. Romanoff, you still require medical attention.”

I nodded stiffly, muscles tender from my time on the floor. “Can you get Wanda?”

Crawling out and standing up slowly, I shuffled to the bathroom, injured wrist tucked protectively against my chest as I took in the mess. Blood, vomit and waste was splattered everywhere, our floor length mirror shattered and scattered. Kneeling, I brushed one finger against the sharp edge lightly. It would be so easy...

“Nat? Widow? Are you here? What’s going on? Friday just woke me and said-”

The redhead barrelled into the bathroom, hands finding her mouth. “Oh, God...”

I sat back on my haunches, another sob shaking my body. “Wanda... Help.”

The witch held me comfortingly as I recounted the entire horrific story, fingers caressing my hair.

“Nat... I’m so sorry. That’s... I’m so sorry.” She shook her head lightly, dazed and stunned. “We... We need to get you to Bruce, or-”

“No – not Bruce. Please. I’d rather just go to hospital. Bruce can’t know what happened; he’ll kill Clint,” I begged, looking up at her through puffy eyes. “Please, Wanda.”

She nodded stiffly, smoothing my hair once more. “Okay. Hospital.” Standing, she offered her hand to me, but I shook my head, gesturing at the mess around us.

“I need to... He can’t come back to this.”

She let out a huff, but put a finger to her ear. “Vision, my love? Natasha’s bathroom is a warzone. Could you arrange something?” She nodded to herself as he spoke, smiling lightly before replying. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

Freshly encased in a plain white cast, I couldn’t help but hesitate at the door to the main building.

We’d received the call from Stephen while we were at the hospital; Clint needed emergency surgery. There’d be updates when he had them.

And now...

Lunchtime.

How the hell am I supposed to go and sit at that table?

“We can eat together, if you like,” Wanda offered quietly, seeing my uncertainty on my face.

I waited for Widow to help me make a choice, but there was only silence. Just as there had been since the moment I first hit the floor. “I... I think... I should face them?” I offered uncertainly, unused to making choices by myself. Wands simply nodded, her elbow linked with mine.

“Y’all have got this, Natasha,” She murmured reassuringly, leading me through the building slowly. “You’ve been doing so well lately – don’t let this set you back, okay?”

I nodded, still dazed from the events of the last twelve hours. “I, uh... I-I won’t.”

For what seemed like the thousandth time, the entire room fell silent as I walked in – though this time it was largely to do with the sparse attendance.

“Natasha, are you okay? We heard about Clint… Your wrist… What the hell happened?” Bruce was on his feet as entered, his face a mask of concern.

Tony snorted, his back to me. “Probably got a little too rough-and-tumble. Legolas is tough – he’ll be fine. Strange will get him fixed up and good to go.”

I watched in disbelief as his hand rose and fell, bringing something unseen to his face.

“Are you kidding me?” I murmured under my breath, slowly stalking closer.

The weight gain had done me at least one favour.

I was definitely stronger now.

Tony was picking at a half eaten sandwich, shades on, and half a bottle of scotch in front of him.

“Hey, Tone. What happened to your neck?” I asked curtly, and his hand rose unconsciously to the fingerprint bruises littering one side.

Laughing softly, he shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t remember a thing. Once Clint put me on my ass – for being an ass – I walked out of here, and then there’s... Nothing. I guess I must have made a call.”

I nodded, humming thoughtfully. “And your hands?”

He looked down, flexing his fingers slowly, appearing genuinely surprised at the splits across his knuckles.

“What about your face?” I pressed, tugging away his sunglasses with a growl. He winced and recoiled, snatching blindly.

“I have a hangover, Nat, Jesus.”

He raised his head, and Bruce let out a low whistle. “Nope, you have a concussion – at least if that shiner is anything to go off.”

Tony’s fingers gently probed his swollen cheekbone, and he smirked. “I guess you weren’t the only one who got a little rough last n-”

His words were cut off by my primal scream as I threw myself at him, all professional training wiped from my mind as I fought desperately to claw his eyes from his head, or rip his goddamn tongue out – whichever I got my nails into first.

The table burst into outcry, and Vision stepped up behind me, as the closest one, but I snarled at the hand on my shoulder.

“Vis, leave her. That fucker deserves it," Wanda muttered coldly, and the touch hesitated before backing up, clearly seeing something in his lover’s eyes that convinced him.

“Widow, what the hell! Get off him!” Cap’s voice grew louder as he scrambled around the table, but I simply screamed again, my hands so close now around Tony’s desperately flailing arms. Three more millimetres, and I’d have his eyes.

A firm arm around my waist yanked me backwards, and I howled, fingers stretched desperately as my prey shuffled back. “Let me go! I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Widow, what-”

I rounded on the super-soldier, squaring up to him, spurred on by rage. “What, just because I’m angry, I’m Widow? Don’t be so fucking simplistic, Rogers. Widow is gone. I haven’t heard from them all night, and it’s all because of him!”

I whipped back around, intending to finish the job, but Steve’s grip was immovable, securing me against his chest.

“I- What?” Tony’s hands were raised defensively as he shook his head. “I know I was a little out of line, but come on – I was just kidding. I mess with everyone, Nat. You know that.”

“You really don’t remember, do you? You alcoholic piece of shit,” I breathed, almost amazed by his power of denial.

“Hey, now,” Tony warned, then paused. “Remember what?”

I rolled my jaw. “Clint came to confront you. For the things you said about us. And you beat the shit out of him. He’s in emergency surgery right now, because you managed to hit him that hard that his fucking stoma detached.” I spat, low and venomous. The arrogant asshole blinked in shock, face paling, eyes on his hands as he fought to remember.

Cap’s arm loosened minutely, and I attempted to seize the opportunity, propelling myself forward, but he just gripped me tighter, his other arm coming up to find my collarbones. “No, Nat. This isn’t the answer.”

“Steve... Get off me,” I whispered, a familiar nausea rising in my stomach.

Not now. Not alone. I can’t do this alone.

“I know what he did is horrible, Nat, but I can’t let you-”

“No, no no no no,” I murmured, hands coming up to find my hair. “Not now. Let me go. Just let me go.”

“I-”

“Let me go!” I screeched, thrashing harder, throwing my head back in a blind bid for his nose.

A hard arm across my collarbones, and another at my waist, holding me tightly.

The sound of bone crunching was satisfying, but it didn’t stop either of the men. The one holding me merely grunted, while the other dug the knife in a little harder, cutting flesh as well as fabric.

“Do you like it when it hurts, is that it, Natalia?” the second laughed, his English heavily accented by something further north than here. “You’re a little young for such tastes.”

I roared hatefully, and was rewarded with a heavy blow to the abdomen, making my stomach roil and my head spin.

They’d touched me before, of course. But I knew what this would be.

My Breaking.

There was no light touches now. Nothing that could be even remotely pleasant, or at least not painful.

There

was

only

burningstretchingrippingtearing

I felt like I was being split in two, and the more I fought, the worse it hurt. Eventually, my body was limp, without even the energy to tremble, jerking like a ragdoll as they thrusted into me.

Smooth, cold fingers caressed my cheek from behind as a fat tongue forced its way into my mouth.

“That’s a good girl, Natalia. You’re such a good girl... You’re loving this, aren’t you? Taking it like such a good girl.”

“You’re so good when you obey.”

You’re so good when you obey.

You’re so good when you obey.

A hard arm across my collarbones, and another at my waist, holding me tightly.

“Nat? I’m going to let you go now, okay?”

I blinked blankly, not moving as the grip around my waist slackened and then vanished, head low.

“Nat? Are you okay?”

I nodded immediately, moving to sit at the table. After all, isn’t that what is expected of me?

“... Nat?”

I looked up at the kindly redhead beside me, a worried smile on her face. “Yes, Wanda?”

“Are you... Ready for lunch?”

“Of course,” I replied smoothly, turning back to face the table. “... What should we have? There are so many options.”

Everyone’s eyes were on me, so I simply smiled wider.

I’m fine.

Wanda gestured at a plate of sandwiches, stuffed with cheese and onion. “How about a couple of sandwiches?”

I nodded quickly, moving to my feet and carefully serving her, and then myself. She watched me carefully – no doubt ensuring I didn’t make a mistake – but I got through it without dropping anything, despite the subtle tremor in my hands.

Regaining my seat, I glanced around at the cluster of individuals nervously. “Would... Anyone else like anything?” I cursed myself for my hesitation, fingers finding the soft skin on the back of my thigh and pinching hard. There was a murmur of dissent, and they tucked in their food, while I sat, straight-backed and patient, my eyes low.

The only sound for several minutes was that of chewing, until Wanda touched my arm gently. “Nat? Are you gonna have some food?”

I blinked, looking down at my plate. “Yes. Of course,” I replied hesitantly, carefully picking up the first sandwich and taking a polite bite. My jaw moved automatically 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 before I swallowed, and repeated the process.

A Widow should chew anything seven times before she swallows. Widows don’t stuff their faces.

We were just finishing lunch, with only Steven and Wanda still eating, when Clint limped in the door. My head was low, waiting patiently for the others to finish to I could begin to clear the table, and I only looked up at Steve’s sharp intake of breath.

“Damn, Barton. You look like fresh hell.”

Following the soldier’s eyes, I briefly took in the pale, sweaty archer, his face coated in a litany of splits and stitches, one hand pressed protectively to his stomach. My gaze lingered for only a second, respectful – it wouldn’t do to be caught staring, after all – before dropping once more to the now-empty plate before me, waiting without complaint until I was of use.

“Feel like it, Cap. You all know what happened?”

Wanda nodded, sliding the last of her sandwich into her mouth. “Yup,” she mumbled, muffled by the bread. “Tony was an asshole – sounds pretty in character for him.”

“Nat tried to claw his eyes out,” Steven added, inclining his head toward me as he chewed on his last slice of grilled cheese. “Took more of my strength than I expected to hold her back… Pretty sure she broke my nose.”

I winced, head dropping lower, a low tremble starting in my core. Why would I do that? I’m going to pay for being so aggressive.

I felt the eyes on me, and blinked hard, trying to stay as still as possible.

“What… What’s going on?” Clint murmured, moving closer behind me. My breathing stuttered in my chest, but I fought the urge to bolt. It’ll be worse if you run.

“We don’t know,” Wanda admitted, her voice low. “She… She’s been this way since… Since she attacked Tony. She… Well, see for yourself. Nat?”

My head jerked up, eyes instantly on the redhead. “Yes?”

“Could you clear this plate for me?”

I was on my feet immediately, pleased to have been given a task – collecting not only Wanda’s plate, but every other empty dish I could get my hands on. “I-I’ll come back for the leftovers. I’ll put them in tubs; we can’t have them going to waste, not when there’s so many people to feed. You never know when someone might get hungry, and I don’t want them to go without.”

It wasn’t until I was by the sink, carefully running scalding water – hotter is cleaner – with the perfect amount of soap that anyone spoke again. “…What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I tried to get her off Tony; I grabbed her. She was fine – furious, but fine. And then she… She just started telling me to get off her, and then she screamed at me to get off her. But I couldn’t let her go – she was going to kill him. And then she started thrashing and yelling like she was on fire. And then it was silent. And I let her go, but… She’s been like this ever since.”

“What the hell do you think you were doing?! Do you have any idea-”

“Clint, are you really going to try and guilt Steve? After what you did?”

“What I did? What are you-”

“Clint…” Wanda sighed, her voice barely audible over the running water. “Clint, you broke her arm.”

“No… No. I-I just pushed her. It… I just didn’t want her to see me like that. I just… Pushed her.”

Dishes clean, I left them to drain for a while, heading back to the table for the leftovers. Clint looked up at me with an unsual expression on his face. “Nat?”

“Hm?” I turned my head toward him as I started to gather the serving plates together.

“Could you come here for a sec?”

Glancing at Wanda – after all, she’d given the last order – I moved toward him when she nodded, standing before him with my head bowed obediently. “Let me see your arm.”

I winced, offering my uninjured right hand for examination.

I hope this one heals cleanly. I don’t want to have to inconvenience anyone with another hospital trip.

Clint cocked his head, smoothing back the sleeve. “There’s nothing there.”

“The other arm, Clint,” Wanda muttered, eyes rolling audibly.

He reached out to grasp my other wrist, and froze at the feel of the clunky cast beneath my sweatshirt. “… Can you… Could you roll your sleeve up for me, Nat?”

I obeyed immediately, despite the shame burning in my chest.

A Widow must be strong. Even when injured, they show no pain.

He cursed under his breath, tears filling his eyes. “Fuck. I really… I broke your arm. I… I broke your arm.”

“It’s okay,” I offered, smiling. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. And I have learnt. Thank you for the lesson. May I return to the leftovers now? I wouldn’t want them to spoil.”

He glanced at the other two heroes in horror, jaw agape. “Did… Did she just… Thank me? For breaking her arm?”

I waited patiently for him to release me, surreptitiously re-rolling my sleeve, hiding the stark white of the cast.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Clint. But I hope you have more luck than we did.” Steven pushed back his chair, but Wanda simply scoffed.

“You think I’m leaving her alone with him? In this state? Vulnerable? Suggestable? Not a chance.”

“What do you think I’m going to-”

“Gee, I don’t know, Clint. It’s not like you’d ever break her arm, is it? It’s not like you’d ever rape her?”

The silence was heavy, and I waited patiently for him to release me. “… Clint wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh? Maybe I know more about your precious Avengers than you do, Cap. Why don’t you tell him, Clint? Why don’t you tell him how you tied her to a pipe and forced yourself on her?”

“I-It… It wasn’t-”

“Oh, I know. ‘It wasn’t me’. But there’s no Loki to blame this time, Clint. So who’s your next scapegoat? Tony, for beating you up? Nat, for daring to care?”

“I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m not letting that poor girl out of my sight. Did you know she’s alone now? No matter how damaged Nat is – at least she’s still here. She hasn’t heard from Widow all day.”

I waited patiently for him to release me.

“She… She hasn’t? But she can always feel them. Even when they’re not talking, she always knows they’re there.”

“What was it she said, Cap? ‘Widow is gone’?”

The soldier nodded reluctantly, his eyes on the table. “She… Yeah, that’s what she said.”

“There is nobody left that she can trust. So I’m going to make damn sure she can trust me.”

“I won’t hurt her, Wanda. I love her.”

“That didn’t stop you before.”

Clint only winced, and I waited patiently for him to release me. “… Friday?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“Reinstate full biofeedback for both Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. And override all updates to the surveillance procedure. We want to be alerted if there is any loss of consciousness, blood loss, or pain response.”

“Yes, Captain Rogers.”

“Is that really necessary-”

“I’m still not happy about-”

“That’s enough, both of you.” Steven’s voice was measured and clipped, Clint’s jaw twitching with irritation, and I waited patiently for him to release me. “Wanda, you might not want to admit it, but he has the best chance of bringing our Nat back. I get that you’re angry; trust me, you’re not the only one. But he can’t hurt her and get away with it – and if he tries, I’ll kick his ass myself. But no part of me thinks that he would ever deliberately hurt that girl. He’s loved her for years.”

“Isn’t that what they say about all abusers? ‘Oh, not him, he’d never do anything like that, he’s such a good guy, he loves her’-”

“I’m not an-”

“Enough!” Steven snapped, some of the careful calm slipping, and, to my shame, I flinched. “Wanda, we’re leaving. Clint, we’ll be checking in with Friday routinely. Just… Take her upstairs. Try and find our girl again. Both of our… People.”

When Wanda rose, my eyes cut to her in panic.

She gave me orders but he hasn’t released me but she gave me orders but he hasn’t released me but she gave me orders but he hasn’t released me but she gave me orders but he hasn’t released me but-

“Nat – Natty? You’ve gotta go with Clint, okay?” Her hand found mine, soft and reassuring, and I nodded with a smile.

“Okay, Wanda.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, Wanda.”

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Please may I have Blue exorcist headcanons of being the oldest sister of the Okumura Triplets of Rin and Yukio and her name is Hana Okumura and she is a splitting image of her mother from the few moles to the black hair..she kept it in a ponytail away from her face. Hana means cosmo flowers in Japanese and it is quite an irony considering that she is the daughter of the king of the underworld and she would've never would've thought that Shima is in love with her but how could anyone love Satan's daughter. Hana knew she was different..even when she was only a small child..she could see things no one else could see and she understands what they say and she can speak to the dead basically to people who have passed away (she helped a lot of ghosts who had died make peace with what had happened in real life..considering that she can see them). Hana was the main source of love for Rin and Yukio and she fiercely protected Yukio back then whenever the demons were mean enough to tease him to the point of tears when they were kids..and she always managed to calm Rin down whenever he threw extremely dangerous temper tantrums in preschool..Hana gets it..she was not proud of what her father had done back then and that was the fact she knew of how many families were taken because of him. Her blue flames were very well controlled because since she knew who she was when she was younger..she had her Foster father help her control them and she is much better at controlling her flames than her brother..(she wasn't proud of an incident she caused back then in Preschool..Hana remember getting so angry that a kid got badly hurt and a adult got caught in the blue flames and became permanently blind due to the severity of the burns..Hana cried for hours afterwards in her room..she kept her mouth shut about that incident when Rin asks, only Yukio and her foster Dad knew) and it was sealed in the swords that she had but they were unsealed and safely in her hands. Her music was her getaway and she is the type of person who wore headphones around her neck.

Personality:

Hana is highly intelligent and she is practically the most Kindest girl known to man but she doesn't like being reminded of being the daughter of Satan..yes. her father did horrible things but never blame Hana for what he did! (Hana actually slapped Bon when he accused her of that stuff..she said "I get it. I hate what he had done too but don't you dare accuse me ever again!"). Hana was the one who had to break up fights/an argument between her classmates and she is not a damsel in distress and she is more than capable of fighting for herself and she wasn't exactly impressed by Shima's romance advances at the start by the romance between Hana and Shima developed gradually throughout the series and he even accepted her for who she was (she cried at his acceptance of her background). She tries to make friends but it was hard when you are the daughter of Satan (she is a class assistant *she helped out the other students* in the same Exorcist classes as Rin and Yukio and it took a long time for Rin to know that big time). Tends to be snarky when people complained about her methods of teaching when she is actually teaching them a good lesson.

Hana Okumura looks just like her mom, a few moles to the black wavy hair which she kept in a ponytail..acts more like a worried mom than a teenager sometimes when Rin got himself in some kind of trouble again..she wears similar clothes to Yukio..happy to stick with a black skirt with long socks and black trainers, white shirt with a light blue jumper..she developed the same Satan ears and tail like Rin did when the swords were unsealed and the teeth too (it was less sharp looking considering that she was a woman). She still wore those religious cross piercings that Shiro gave to her as a 15th Birthday present and she had that flower pendent that Yukio gave her at Christmas. She always kept her swords with her. Her body is extremely curvy and attractive to look at..but that is not an excuse for grown men to ogle at her like if she was a monkey in the zoo.

Other things about Hana Okumura

1. She is a good cook, actually really good and so good that people often tried to sneak into the kitchen to try her food..(got spotted by Hana every time).

2. She is a healer in her own right as a exorcist.

3. Not the person to lose her temper..that incident in Preschool was too much of a close call with blue flames when someone became permanently blind because of it. Hana does though..speak extremely coldly as well as harsh when pissed off and it sends nervous shivers down the person's spine.

4. It was weird for Hana of how Yukio used to be clingy with her back during childhood..but it was fond memories that she told Shiemi sometimes and how Yukio used to say "big sis, big sis!"..it was extremely embarrassing enough for Yukio when Hana acts like a doting mom, telling a girlfriend of how their son behaved as a little boy..it was basically "Little Yukio and Rin" stories.

5. Hana's flames are warm..not unbearable hot that it kills people. (Her father and Shura taught her well)

6. It hit her hard when her foster father, Shiro sacrificed his life *she heard the news over the phone and to hear her cry was heartbreaking 💔..Yukio stayed by her side the whole time..(she reacted exactly like how Winry reacted from Fullmetal alchemist brotherhood when she found out who murdered her parents).

7. Hana is a skilled fighter and a swordsman as well as a top exorcist..she sealed off a lot of difficult demons in her lifetime and Shura is pretty much her helper..he trusted and loved her..generally because Shiro talked a lot about her and by the sounds of it..loves her dearly.

8. Hana is a good person once you get to know her but she kept her Satan side a secret..it wasn't fun being reminded of how she made someone permanently blind when she was four. Hana made her feelings known big time when she told the others never to judge someone by their cover when her secret blew wide open. Her words were, "Can you see how I cry for help. You should love me for being myself"..Hana never asked to be born to the king of Satan and she wasn't proud of what her father had done.

9. Not a big fan of peeping Toms or perverts..Shima learnt that the hard way when he thought that he would go unnoticed when he peeped on her..she almost put him in hospital that day.

10. The fear of her secret being blew wide open affected her sleep and that wasn't great. It was so bad that she..almost thought about letting her blue flames burn her and it took Shura a long time to talk her out of it and Hana just cried instead on his fur alone.

11. She always kept her swords close to her..it was a promise she made to Shiro.

12. She never tried to make friends due to personal background issues with family especially considering that she is the daughter of Satan.

13. Hana is beautiful..it wasn't a surprise how men and teenage boys/demons are totally smitten with her married or not or girlfriend or not.

14. She always wears that lavender perfume..it was her favourite scent..

15. She wears a female version of Yukio's outfit considering that she is his assistant in class.

16. She is a skilled exorcist.

Rin's relationship with his older sister

Yukio's relationship with his older sister

Shima Renzō's relationship with Hana Okumura, who he clearly had fallen for.

Shiemi Moriyama's relationship with Hana Okumura

Kuro's relationship with Rin's older sister (Hana can understand him and he is her familiar and friend)

Shura's relationship with Hana Okumura

Suguro Ryūjj's relationship with Hana Okumura

Konekomaru Miwa's relationship with Hana Okumura

Izumo's relationship with Hana Okumura

Music to describe her..

1. https://youtu.be/cIlghWDd7RU?si=0wZOOMFdMYXNeUPP (that because she is the daughter of Satan)

2. https://youtu.be/ASmhRsqTfis?si=bciLuRQEJUwA0s85 (to describe the gradual romance between Hana Okumura and Shima)

Hi! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like the headcanons!

Fandom: Blue Exorcist

Characters: Rin Okumura, Yukio Okumura, Shima Renzo, Shiemi Moriyama, Kuro, Shura Kirigakure, Suguro Ryujj, Konekomaru Miwa, Izumo Kamiki x Hana Okumura (OC: Credit to the requester) (separate)

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Hana Okumura, is the eldest of the Okumura siblings. She’s intelligent and kind but you wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. What do the characters think of her?

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Rin thinks Hana’s great. They both team up to embarrass Yukio and, even though they’re very different people, they can always bond over this.

Cheered her on when she slapped Bon. Way to go sis, you show him! At the same time, he’s probably a bit worried deep down. He knows firsthand how much it hurts being reminded of his connection to Satan and he hopes she’s doing okay.

Hana is one of the few people I can see Rin being open around and allowing himself to be honest with. Something about her being older lets him be vulnerable around her in ways he would never allow himself to be with Yukio.

Doesn’t know how to feel about her being in any kind of relationship with Shima. On one hand, he’s glad he knows the guy but at the same time, he’s not fussed on the idea of his sister being in a relationship at all.

He will use it to tease her though. There’s no way he’s letting her off the hook that easily, not when there’s such easy teasing material within reach.

Yukio has a very different relationship with Hana than Rin does. He respects her in an academic sense and has a far more professional relationship with her. Very rarely does he allow himself to see her as a big sister.

Hates it when she brings up childhood memories around other people. In private’s another thing but the other exorcists have no need to know about how much of a cry-baby he was.

He tends to bottle up those feelings rather than ask her to stop though. When he does finally snap, Hana will apologise and try to limit the amount of stories she tells about him. She just likes sharing those fond memories with people.

Much like Rin, Yukio isn’t sure how to feel about his sister being in a relationship with Shima. He thinks she could do much better but at the same time, he’s glad it’s someone who will respect her and not some random hooligan. He will give Shima the “talk” though. Just to be on the safe side.

Helps Hana train her ability to see ghosts as well as hone her control of the blue flame, even though she already has a good handle on it. When he gets put in charge of helping Rin, he will hand over a lot of those duties to Hana since she has first-hand experience.

Shima thinks Hana is the best thing since sliced bread. She’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s an amazon fighter. It’s a triple threat in his eyes.

He does find her ghost powers a bit creepy though. He’s an easily spooked guy so he finds it a bit disarming when she starts talking about the ghosts she talks to.

He gets particularly freaked out when he and Hana are spending time together and she mentions there’s a ghost in the room with them. It doesn’t matter what they were doing before, he’s leaving the room straight away until the ghost is gone.

Shima worries about Hana’s sleeping habits a lot. He’s concerned that her lack of quality rest will affect her physically and mentally and in a dangerous business like exorcising demons that can be fatal.

He subconsciously keeps an eye on her during fights to make sure she’s doing okay. He trusts her ability to protect herself but knows accidents can happen and wants to be there for her should anything happen.

Shiemi loves having another female friend but she finds Hana a bit intimidating. In the same way she was shy around Yukio when they met due to his status, she’s the same around Hana.

Eventually opens up around her when she finds out Hana has a hard time making friends but I think Shiemi will always be a bit more quiet around the eldest Okumura sibling.

She knows first-hand the struggle of making friends so she’ll do her best to be a good friend for Hana. She’s still learning though, so they’ll probably both make a lot of mistakes. But they know to be patient with each other while they figure things out.

She does enjoy listening to stories about Rin and Yukio when they were younger, even if it embarases the boys. She thinks it’s sweet that Hana likes talking about her memories of her siblings so much.

Kuro’s bond with Hana is equally strong to his bond with Rin. Hana reminds him a lot of Father Fujimoto since she’s teasing but intelligent (a combination of Rin and Yukio).

As a result, Kuro’s very defensive of Hana. In battle and even in daily life, he’s always keeping an eye on her. He will get in between her and Shima…he gets jealous…

I think Kuro would be able to see ghosts as well since cats often seem to see things that humans can’t. He’s also a demon so that gives him an advantage in that department as well.

He’ll back up Hana in situations where ghosts are present since he knows everyone else will be pretty much useless since they can’t see what the threat is unless the ghost reveals itself to everyone.

Oh, Shura loves Hana. She’s more intelligent than Rin but more easy going than Yukio? It’s the perfect combination.

It does freak her out how much she’s like Father Fujimoto though. Even if she doesn’t look like him, sometimes Shura will look at Hana and all she can see is Shiro.

She’s so glad there’s someone else to help her with training Rin to use his blue flames. As good as Shura is at teaching (in her mind at least), it’s always better to have someone on hand with first-hand experience.

Shura’s arming up on ammo to use against Yukio every time she catches up with Hana. There are just too many embarrassing stories she can choose from to tease him about. She’s honestly starting to think Hana may be one of her favourite people…

Bon isn’t really sure about Hana at first. She’s got the blue flame which straight away makes her as dangerous as Rin. But she’s also intelligent. That makes her, in his mind, the biggest threat out of the Okumura siblings.

He’s definitely going to be guarded around her for quite a while. And then he brings up her connection to Satan. He felt the effects of the slap for hours afterwards.

He’s angry of course but he can’t help but respect her for what she did and said. Once he gets over his issue with the Okumura’s biological father, he’s a lot more comfortable around her.

Bon honestly thinks she’s too good for Shima. He loves his friend dearly but really? Him? Of all people? Well, at least he knows they’re both in good hands with each other.

Much like Bon, Konekomaru is incredibly weary around Hana once he finds out about the Okumura’s heritage. If everyone thought he was scared of Rin, that’s nothing compared to you.

Until he gets over his fear, he’s going to do his best to not even be in the same room as Hana. Once he does get over it, he still truffles to be in the same room but more from embarrassment than fear. He’s ashamed of his actions.

Appreciates having a peacekeeper in the group. Things can get pretty heated between Rin and Bon sometimes and no matter how much everyone tries, sometimes only Hana can calm them down.

He thinks Hana’s ability to see ghosts is a bit spooky but is also fascinated by it. He thinks it’s very useful that she can see and talk to ghosts whenever she wants.

Izumo is completely unbothered by Hana. On the outside at least. Inside, she’s a bit intimidated since she knows this is one person she won’t be able to manipulate or intimidate.

Once she opens up more, she has nothing but respect for Hana. It’s great having another strong, intelligent female in the group.

And then Hana shows interest in Shima and that respect is tainted. Izumo still thinks Hana’s incredibly cool (even if she’ll never say it out loud) but really? Shima? What poor taste Hana has. She could do so much better.

Will try to help out with Hana’s sleeping problems in her own way. She’ll give her lavender spray and incense under the pretence that they were gifts from her family but she either already has enough or doesn’t like the smell. Izumo just shows that she cares in unique ways.

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