#i might take a lil longer than usual because there's so many things to be grateful for u for

[xianyoon]

okay so . . . i did the love letter asks last time , but lowk im not too proud of it bc it became pretty bland "( - ⌓ - ) so let's try this again !

mutuals , send me a 💌 to my inbox and i'll give u a small surprise !

[wtfsteveharrington]

c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader

we've got so much history baby

description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.

warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!

smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.

word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!

a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3

maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway. 

“Where’ve you been tonight?” 

Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.” 

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.

When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.

For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.

Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.

And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay. 

Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield. 

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch. 

So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time. 

You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you. 

It didn’t work but does it ever?

Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care. 

Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right? 

And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all. 

You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it. 

One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond? 

Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier. 

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well. 

A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”

You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter. 

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner. 

Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed. 

If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.

Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret. 

So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up. 

Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.

And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him. 

Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.

Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out. 

He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you. 

You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that? 

You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again. 

“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused. 

“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.

His eye twitches involuntarily. 

There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen. 

And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.

You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building. 

As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened. 

You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night. 

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like. 

Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you. 

“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm. 

His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him. 

Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips. 

Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place. 

Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.

Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place. 

“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him. 

He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you. 

There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit. 

He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.

A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.

“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.” 

Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.” 

Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”

You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily 

“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later. 

He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night. 

Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out. 

It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.

“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly. 

There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement. 

His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how. 

“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.” 

He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.” 

You liked riling him up. 

Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain. 

He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.

So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him. 

Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself. 

Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.” 

That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.

He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible. 

You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.

The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support. 

Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well. 

There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had. 

He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”

You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body. 

Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he? 

He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”

The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone. 

Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all. 

He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail. 

But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away. 

“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse. 

But tonight was different. 

There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.

“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.” 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.

Your sheets smell like home. 

He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable. 

Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.

Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through. 

Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms. 

You never did. 

But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet. 

He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet. 

The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.

Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.

“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to. 

In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex. 

“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.

“Shitty?” 

Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together. 

There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.” 

You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light. 

He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast. 

————

11:52 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going 

12:17 pm

Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well. 

4:39 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now

————

You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time. 

You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred. 

One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day. 

No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it. 

The bed feels so much 

You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.

————

11:28 pm 

Headed to bed 

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you 

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest. 

You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!” 

Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound. 

And there he is. 

Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming? 

The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now 

————

No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning. 

So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all. 

A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point. 

————

10:32 am 

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen! 

You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line? 

So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you. 

The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not. 

Ugh!

Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.

If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out. 

But alas.

You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now. 

The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -

Fuck Carmen Berzatto. 

You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!

This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff. 

So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral. 

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

[charmercharm3r]

okay but after reading that 9th member boxing, i need to hear more instances where the boys see her practically naked. like idk at the the gym(again), practice, around the dorm, etc. like maybe she’s getting more comfortable with showing skin but only around the boys so it still catches them off guard cause of how new it still is to all of them

a lil blurb cus I thought this was cute

Masterlist

prev: one, next: three

☆ﾟ

You were just so tired, dehydrated, and felt sticky from sweating for the past god knows how many hours at dance practice. It was just you in the practice room for a while until Hyunjin convinced you that it was time to head home. He was surprised you were even still at the company, considering it was supposed to be a rest day for the group.

The two of you headed home together, him having to almost hold you up most of the way because it felt like your limbs were going to give out any second. “You can have the shower first, you’re kinda stinky,” he teased as he led you through the threshold.

“Gee, thanks! You’re so kind.” Hyunjin smirked at the sarcasm, nudging your shoulder before departing to his room.

Living in the dorm with him, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung was usually rather quiet when 3racha were gone. Hyunjin enjoyed his alone time, as did Jisung when he was home, though when everyone was back at the same time, there was no such thing as peace or personal space.

The only thing you were glad for was finally having your own room, how the company managed to find a 5 bedroom apartment, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest. Room not too small, just enough space for a bed, desk, and closet, you were comfortable.

Tossing your bag down and grabbing a clean towel, you headed to the bathroom before the rest of the members could come home.

There was a new bottle in the shower, brown and expensive looking. “Jinnie, did you get a new hair product?” You called out, picking it up to inspect.

“Yeah, I heard it was really good. Try a little if you want,” he yelled back from his room. Calling back a, "sure, thanks," you shut the door and started your shower.

There was so much on your find, you don't know how long you spent under the water. It took some time before you even undressed, looking at yourself in the mirror and examining what body part you thought might stand out for the public to talk about for the next come back. There was always something wrong, nothing you did ever felt good enough.

Sometimes your thighs were too big, sometimes your arms weren't toned enough. Oh no, you're wearing a crop top? Someone cover her up, she's seeking validation! God forbid you wear anything other than long sleeves because elbows are just too sexy. As if she doesn't get enough spotlight already being in an all male group, gotta have a part in the song a second longer than the rest because you have to be the center of attention!

Another few minutes to let the water soak down to your bones, you took your time shampooing, soaping, everything in between and taking mental notes of things you needed to improve upon. One wrong step and it's over, not just for you, but your entire group, as well. If you were to be the reason they got dragged down-

No, that's the shower thoughts talking. Probably time to get out, anyways. Changbin will have a fit if he doesn't get some warm water for himself.

So consumed in your own head, you weren't thinking when you threw on just your bra and underwear and opened the bathroom door. Dirty clothes in one hand, rubbing the towel into your hair, the trek to your bedroom through the house felt so long up until you got through the door.

The dorm was quiet, the others must still be out. Hyunjin won't show his face until dinner time, if you were fast you could grab a snack from the kitchen. Yeah, it won't take longer than a minute. Make it quick-

You padded out of your bedroom and made it a step into the living room before stopping dead in your tracks, eight pairs of eyes looking at you big with mouths dropped so wide it could catch flies.

The other members were sitting in various places surrounding the couch and coffee table. Chan scratched at his ear and darted his eyes back and forth, unsure of whether or not to look. Minho didn't seemed like he cared too much, while Jisung and Seungmin obviously raked their gaze from your head to your toes. The other four focused on different areas, but you ran away as quickly as you came with a trail of beat red embarrassment to follow.

As soon as the door slammed shut you threw your pajamas on and paced back for forth for a bit.

You should just act like nothing happened. They probably don't care. No, they definitely don't care. They're just body parts and everyone has them. But they were your body parts. For as long as you'd known them, you'd been so careful.

It's fine- they're not prudes, they're young adults that watch more porn than you ever could in your life time. They're just boys. Your boys. Your best friends. Yeah, they won't care. It's fine. You're fine. You're-

"Y/N'ie?"

A knock on your door had you stutter in your steps. When you didn't respond, the voice spoke again, "there's food here if you wanna join."

It took you another second to process what had just happened. The floor creaked on the other side and you panicked again, "Felix?"

The footsteps backtracked and stopped outside your door again, "yeah?"

"What kind of food?" He giggled lightly to himself.

"Come eat with us and you'll find out."

Slowly you came to the door, torn on hiding in your room for the next few hours or facing the eight people that caused your massive embarrassment in the first place. It felt so stupid to even feel such a way around those who you'd already been through hell and back with, the same people you've lived with and known for years and have seen you at your worst.

Felix's weight leaning against the other side of the door made him stumble forward when you finally opened it. Setting aside his momentary hiccup, he smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to bring into a quick hug. You let him drape over you as you made your way back into the living room where everyone else was waiting.

Quiet as you sat down between Minho and Jeongin- Felix across the coffee table, quiet as you grabbed a pair of chopstick, quiet as you began to eat. The eight of them watched you chew, chew, swallow, not moving a muscle as though they were walking on eggshells as not to scare you off.

Now you felt stupid. This was stupid. Just body parts. They're just body parts.

"Stop staring at me, virgins. Eat before it gets cold." Minho at your side dug in first, then the rest followed suit as you all enjoyed the meal together.

You could feel Jeongin taking quick peaks at you as you ate. He jolted a little when you nudged his shoulder to get him to talk. A light blush flooded his cheeks and ears, putting another piece onto your plate as he leaned in to whisper, "you looked really pretty."

"Don't spread gossip, Yang Jeongin. Share it with the table," Jisung teased and drew the attention of the rest of the members.

"Look, he's flustered. What'd you say to Y/N'ie?" Hyunjin joined in and ruffled the younger's hair.

"Nothing! It's none of your business-"

"He called me pretty," you played along and pinched Jeongin's cheek, making him swat you and Hyunjin away with a few curses under his breath. Giggling and picking up your chopsticks again, you brought some food to your mouth, "you wanna kiss me sooo bad."

All of them spoke at once, "yes."

"Wait, what?" Quiet again. What is it with them and perfectly timed silence?

When you faced Minho, he was particularly unashamed in the way he eyed your lips as you slowly chewed your food. You looked at them around the table, "ew. Bitchless. All of you," and stole a large portion of food to take back to your room.

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffi t@fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchandler @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[melodic-haze]

MORE SAD SUB ARLECCHINO. PLEASE. I NEED TO EAT. like shes in absolute TEARS SHES SO ME I LOVE HER PLEASE FEED ME MORE.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: A lil petplay (it's like one paragraph)

☆ — NOTES: I lied about not writing for this week lol I needed a distraction. Anyway combined these two bc they worked very sillily together hope yall don't mind 🫶 also YES I DO REMEMBER YOU 🎀 anon w my first ask about Arle :333

Oh man oh man oh MANNN I wanna do soooo many things to her auhfhthgh

Much as I ADORE absolutely ruining this absolute UNIT of a woman, I also want to take care of her and dote on her so much to the point where she fucking cries from being treated so well UGHHHHH

I feel like there are times at night when she remembers what she had lost in order to get to where she is right now (the chance to have a life that went in a more conventional direction, along w ESPECIALLY Clervie) and while she has learned to deal with the feeling itself in solitary, whenever you see her look out the window she is no longer The Knave—this was Peruere, a lonely girl yearning for something from so long ago

Even when she seems like such a self-assured person, all that composure threatens to fall into pieces the moment you, the one she now holds so achingly dearly in her heart, go to hug her and tell her that she's no longer alone :( no matter how many times you tell her or no matter how many times this scene repeats, it will never stop affecting her so deeply :(((((

I do think that she actually does love to sit on your lap. Sure, maybe it's kinda unnecessary and even more than a little embarrassing, but it makes her feel cared for instead of the way around that she's used to 🫶

"Who would've known that the real reason why you like being on my lap was for this, though..?"

You curled your fingers up in order to emphasise your point, hitting that specific spot within her that forces out a strangled gasp as her thighs make a feeble attempt to close themselves off.. despite the fact that you were comfortably sat right in-between.

Arlecchino makes no effort to answer you properly right away with one of her ever-so-composed words of wisdom or whatever they may be—she opts to tuck her head into the crook of your neck as fat tears roll down her cheeks, your skin almost as wet as her drooling cunt that you just can't get enough of.

(Her makeup is smudged too, though by this point it doesn't really seem like she cares.)

Though with the way your other hand was wrapped around her, softly stroking her back as if soothing your crying mess, and the way her own arms were clinging onto you, you both knew there was so much more to this position beyond your carnal actions.

Something much more emotionally charged, something much more than she usually let herself handle.

And perhaps it might also be because you had been at this for a while; your little lapdog was desperate for a release every time.. only for you to take the chance away from her, as if faking your pet out of her sweet treat. You couldn't help but play with her a little, not when her reactions are often the sweetest—uncharacteristic whines making its way out of her lips as she pleads you to fuck her silly, to--

"--make me forget for a brief moment, please-- ah..!"

And as her loving partner, of course you'd want to comfort her in whatever way you can.

"I'll make you forget your very title, Peruere."

"Please--"

Especially if it means fucking her until all that longing is long gone.

Need her to go from crying about who she had to kill to crying about who she ended up gaining in the end (and crying about how you make her feel too :3)

Just softly tell her that you love her, sing her praises, take care of her, kiss the tears rolling down her face, give her everything that she hadn't been meant to have or hadn't even realised she could ever have as the 'monster' her past has created

I just really really wanna spoil her and make her cry by overwhelming her with so much affection she doesn't know what to do with as someone who doesn't often let such things dictate her actions dude idk 🤷‍♀️

[arcanegifs]

On Gifmaking:

So season 2's coming soon, and I wanna reflect on making gifs ever since I came back to Tumblr. I can't believe it's been 2 years of making gifs for this show!!!!! Look at how large my folder is lmao

And those are JUST gifs lol

Anyways, over time, my style has changed, especially how I color edit Arcane gifs. I kind of strayed away from a stylized filter color into just something that looks a lot more "natural" and works with the original scene.

Initially, I thought I'd save time, but I ended up not using my old arcane preset PSDs and resulted to coloring almost every scene manually. So in the end, it takes even longer to make them HAHAHA. It takes around an hour and a half for me to make a 10 gif set, basically. It also helps that I have a photography background, so coloring/editing is a lot simpler for me.

Here's a lil before and after of a dark scene (hiiiii viiiiiii <3)

Arcane is a REALLY dark show, but it goes for most of TV shows. Many of them are darker and harder to bring up the lights to make stuff look nice as gifs. Some people don't like to color their gifs, and that's okay. I personally just like color edited gifs more.

I've started learning how to upscale scenes myself, so that I have a better resolution and leeway to make things look "HD" more.

If you're wondering why my stuff look so "crisp", it's a combination of the scene's lighting, my sharpening settings on Photoshop and knowing how to upscale everything into 4k resolution. Of course, doing this needs an extremely beefy pc, which I am very lucky to own one.

Here's another before and after of a nicely lit scene. These are much, MUCH easier to do than all the darkly lit scenes because of shadows and lighting (caitlyn kiramman truly the rizzler <3)

I've been very lucky to be able to essentially take a nice, long break for like a month doing nothing after being so damn busy for the last year and a half, so it's nice that I was able to make a ton of gifs and be chronically online for a short while LMAO.

It's been so fun! But it's time to go back to reality lmao. I closed reqs for a bit because I was just so swamped with them the last few days, and I wanted to gif scenes that I like this time. I've done like 2 weeks worth of gifs. And you will see Vi a lot bc she's on my mind a lot heehee 🥰what can I say, she's such a babe <3

Here's a lil sneak peek, just look at herrrrrrr 🥰🥰🥰 and yeah, 4k upscaled resolution really helps making these tight crops, it's why i never went back to 1080p lol. It's how I’m able to make zoomed in gifs look decent (like the kirammountains gifset lol)

Thank you so much for all the support, likes, reblogs, and the nice tags you guys give. Yes, I can see and read all of them (both the nice and nasty ones lmao). If you have nothing good to say about the characters or my editing style, or anything related to the edit, please I beg you, just write a separate text post about it <3 If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it in my edits.

Lastly, thank you to the people who share my stuff outside the site and credit the blog and link them back here. I see you and appreciate you <3 You guys don't know how much I appreciate shoutouts and link backs, because people stealing my gifs is something that I've dealt with after making them for like a decade.

Tumblr is sadly not what it used to be in the 2013-2015 era. There’s definitely less activity as time goes by, so I appreciate all the people who credit and link back to this sideblog. Unfortunately, there’s more people who just repost them and it gets wayyy much more traction in other soc med sites. Yeah, ofc I get a lil jealous, but eh what can you do 😞 can’t really stop em.

I also don’t like putting watermarks because it personally looks tacky to me, but I understand why other people do it.

Anyways, if you reached at the end of this lil rambling of mine, thank you! I sadly might be busy during November because that's usually busy season, but I'll try to make time for making gifs of Season 2! Thank you and enjoy your stay on this lil sideblog :)

[scramblecat]

okay scramble’s gonna get a lil unhinged with this one. But I already wrote it out for a server and all I gotta do is copy and paste SO:

About the Narrator and his Fears

[Putting it under a cut because it is. REALLY long as in like 700+ words long]

The Narrator is usually really good at keeping his composure when it comes to negative emotions, I feel like. He expresses happiness and excitement often enough, but the only times he cries (as in, voice audibly breaking) are the Zending and the Real Person ending.

So he’s shown to be distraught before. But panic? Full-on panic? There’s also only two instances where this happens, and that’s in the Skip Button Ending, and interestingly, the second time you go to the expo.

Now, the skip button ending is completely understandable. He’s being faced with the idea of being completely and utterly isolated for the foreseeable future, over and over and over again, getting longer and longer each time. Anyone would be afraid if they were in that position. At its surface, it’s a completely rational fear from the get-go.

But the expo? It’s… odd. He goes into the achievement room prepared to pop off with his whole ‘it doesn’t work YET’ thing, and then it does.

In the expo, it’s different. It’s not a high stakes situation, not by any means. But when the achievement machine works against all of the Narrator’s expectations, he panics. But not just in like an ‘ah uhm this is definitely what I meant to happen aha!’ way.

It takes him a moment to realize, but he verbalizes his train of thought, so we know exactly when he does.

The machine didn’t work before —> the Narrator didn’t do anything to it to fix it (implying that he didn’t have any sort of solution for it yet) —> it’s fixed anyways and he doesn’t know how —> someone else might have that knowledge —> there’s someone else here.

And that is the moment where he starts to panic. He sounds almost faint when he talks next, and he has to verbally tell himself to keep his composure— something we’ve never, ever heard him do before.

His breathing gets audibly strangled as he tries to finish his whole pitch, telling Stanley that everything is working as intended to cover up the anxiety he’s feeling. But he stumbles through it, and he finishes it with telling himself to breathe, to regulate the panic.

He straight up has like. A whole anxiety attack in front of us. It’s so UNLIKE him to be that afraid, and that REALLY makes it a moment that stands out.

There IS something that links the Skip Button and the Achievement Machine together— and that is CONTROL. Or, rather, lack thereof.

In the Skip Button Ending, yes, he’s scared of being alone. He makes many discoveries about his thought processes and how he works in that solitude, and realizes that talking isn’t his main purpose— it’s telling a story. Telling a story TO someone. He doesn’t feel like he has a purpose otherwise. And that’s the big root of the isolation part.

But otherwise? He spends the first few skips desperately looking for a way out. He panics when he can’t touch the room around him, when he realizes he’s trapped, and that he can’t do anything about it. He’s lost his control.

And it’s the same thing with the achievement machine. He THINKS he has complete control over the Parable and its contents. He really does. And then, something— or someone— fixes the machine for him. And all at once, his perception of what he can control comes absolutely crashing down on him. In that moment, he’s having a LOT of huge realizations:

He doesn’t have the control he thinks he does

He doesn’t know how much control he actually HAS, and it could be NONE

He and Stanley are not alone in the Parable, and are being watched

Whatever being is watching them has more power than he does, and could very well strip all of his control away from him

These realizations— that last one especially— are fucking terrifying to him!

The Narrator is obsessive about maintaining control over the events that transpire in HIS PARABLE, and the only times he shows negative emotions are when he cannot control a situation. It most often presents itself in annoyance at the very least, or a complete breakdown at its worst. And it’s all because he needs that control. He’s fearful of the idea that he can’t control a situation, because it makes him feel helpless and weak. He’s USED to having control, and when it’s taken away from him, he has no idea what to do.

He’s desperately trying to keep up this facade of ‘this is all fine and working as intended’ in front of Stanley after Stanley gets the achievement, even though it’s clear that he’s barely holding it together. His entire perception of his own control has collapsed in on itself, and has given in to one of his worst fears. And he’s really, really shaken up by it.

The Narrator’s greatest fear has been shown to be a lack of control. It’s quickly followed by the fear of isolation, obviously, but the fear of helplessness/weakness is present all through the games.

And THAT, folks, is why the Narrator freaks out in one (1) ending that nobody ever talks about!

[inkedinshadows]

Hello lovely people! 🌸

(snippet of fanfic at the end)

Hi everyone! I'm not exactly new here, but I've never really posted anything before. I lurked in the dark, sometimes appearing in someone's comments, but mainly silently devouring fanfic for Azriel because I'm such a sucker for our shadowsinger 🖤

But now that I've got a lot of free time on my hands, I've decided to give a shot at writing something of my own and share it with anyone who'd be willing (and kind enough) to read it.

And while I work on the final scenes of my first fic, I thought it could be a nice idea if maybe I introduced myself a little a bit? I don't know, maybe no one really cares, but maybe someone does? So here it is.

🌸 I'm Italian, so forgive me if there are some mistakes or some weird stuff, but don't feel bad about calling me out on it so I can improve ✨️ it's my first time writing something other than an essay or dissertation in English after all

🌸 My name is Yennifer (not very Italian, I know), but you can call me Yen or Yenni. Whatever you like works tbh

🌸 I started writing when I was 10 and the first thing I ever wrote was a crossover for Harry Potter and Narnia, in which Peter and Ginny ended up together. I actually rewrote the whole thing at 13, then again at 15, and then I started writing a sequel. When I tell you I made that my whole personality for a few years, I mean it

🌸 I studied Foreign Languages and Literatures in university (and hopefully it helped with mastering English enough to use it for fanfics) and I recently graduated. I'm currently waiting and praying for my admission to the Master program

🌸 I've always wanted to be a writer, but since now I'm old enough (22 lol) to realize I'm not sure I've got what it takes to plan, write and finish (they tell me this is an important part of it) a whole ass book, my dream job is translator: reading, writing and languages all in one. What else could I possibly want?

🌸 My favorite authors are Jay Kristoff, TJ Klune and Jojo Moyes. If we stick to classics, I love Oscar Wilde and a few Italian dudes probably not many know

🌸 I love the color blue in all its shades, so I like to think it as fate that Azriel's color is cobalt 💙

🌸 I am OBSESSED with music. I can't live without it and I'm not even exaggerating. If I'm not listening to music, then there's still music playing in my mind and it never shuts up. Sometimes it can even be a bit frustrating. But whether it's real or just in my head, music is playing 24/7 around here

🌸 In case you couldn't tell, I particularly like this flower emoji. I just think it's really cute and a nice change from the usual lil red heart

Now, before I wrap this up, here's the little snippet I promised. Enjoy!

His shadows lunged forward as if they wanted to reassure her, but he held them back. He approached her slowly, stopping just in front of her. He crouched down next to her and waited for her to meet his eyes before speaking.

“Let me help,” he said, unable to hide his concern any longer. He wanted to erase that haunted look from her eyes and he’d do anything to make her feel safe and protected again.

“You’re not alone, Y/N,” he continued, his tone gentle. In his mind, he was cursing himself for not having thought that she might experience this kind of problem. “I could help you. We can do it at your pace and stop whenever you wish.”

She stared into his eyes and it felt like an eternity passed before she nodded. Relief flooded his chest at her trust, her willingness to finally let someone help her.

[...]

Tears were streaming down her face and she sobbed, drawing her legs close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She began to rock back and forth and maybe she was begging for it to stop, to never start, maybe she was screaming or calling out for someone, maybe she wasn’t saying anything at all.

As that dark freezing water closed over her and pulled her under, she knew the pain would come soon. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was drowning and there was nothing she could do, nothing she could do, nothing she could…

A tender, gentle touch on her cheek. From far away, someone called her name. And among the chaos, the darkness, the crippling fear, she saw a pair of hazel eyes, soft and yet concerned. A male voice assuring her that she was safe, that he was with her.

She wanted to believe that voice, but the water was pulling her under, cold and dark and terrifying. And yet that gentle voice was still talking to her, those hazel eyes still looking into hers, and she tried to hold on to them, to not let it all slip away.

And then someone took her hand and suddenly she felt something thumping beneath her palm. A heartbeat, she realized. Life.

Heartbeat meant life. Not death, not pain.

Life.

Alright, I really hope you liked this and that it sparked your curiosity just enough to stick around to read the whole thing. I'll post it in the next few days, I just have to write the end.

Whether you've read the whole post or just skipped to the snippet, thank you so much and hopefully I'll see you again! 💙🌸🙈

[jessanight]

Hey, I was scrolling through the offical pale beyond twitter account and found these sprites. During my playthroughs I didn't see them at all, so are they possibly unused? And if so are there a lot of unused sprites that didn't end up in the game? Just curious, because the game's art is amazing!

Hey there, good eye @niko-trash!! Thanks so much for asking, but this is probably going to be a longer answer than you anticipated, sorry!

Yes, there are a lot of sprites that went unused in the game. Kurt has the most emotes total I think, and therefore the most unused emotes too - the final count for him is well over 100, he's an expressive man.

Most of the reason why we made too many emotes was that a lot of them were designed before there was a script! We knew early on that we wanted a lot of emotes, and drawing usually takes longer than writing, so we started early. At this point the game design for Pale was more like a true visual novel, and we had yet to add many of the resource management mechanics, so we thought we would have to lean pretty hard on conversation emotes being important for basically everything.

This led to a lot of work being done without the full context of all the scenes that would be in the game. We made our best guesses, but it didn't all end up fitting! In hindsight some of the most effective emotes were the really subtle ones - head tilts, gaze aversions, that sort of thing.

Sometimes scenes that we had conversation emotes for were changed to isometric-only because it felt better for the kind of gameplay that was happening at the time (abandoning ship and Kurt vs Hammond are the ones I can think of off the top of my head)!

Katie (the character artist!) and I ended up going back and editing emotes, or making new ones to fit scenes better once we had them for testing. Most of the emotes that were done post-script were Hunt in the Captain's interviews, and the important conversations with your crew towards the end of the game, in their degraded costumes. We gave a lot of extra special care and attention to Cordell in the dog scene, and to Nutlee's scene in tent-city as well.

I DO have to say though, I don't personally consider the work that wasn't used to have been a waste. When I designed the characters, I did early pose concepts that were really useful for developing the individual characterisations of everyone in the cast. This bank of work was also really useful for helping Katie get used to the style when they joined, so all's well that ends well!

Next time around we'll have more writing done before we dive into emotes though haha. Hopefully we'll be a lil more efficient!

Going to continue with some endgame spoiler stuff under the cut!

To use Hunt as an example, when we first imagined the player meeting him again at the end of the game, he was going to be almost comedically mad, kind of Machiavellian almost.

But when I read the scene in preparation for emoting it, it was totally different. We had always planned to have the fruit mechanic, but now that I had to sit with the context of Hunt having experienced the loss of his crew over and over again, it became much more somber, you're finally taking a peek under the deceptive, jolly mask he had at the start of the game.

This is also the scene where he makes his final judge of your character, and could have to relent to you being a much better person and captain than he, or he might decide he hates you and your rotten soul. It called for a subtler approach. It was one of the last scenes I drew for the game, and I listened to the music over and over as I worked on it.

I think this is a lot better, and I'm glad we changed it.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Scenario: Edward, Charles Grey, Ciel, Alois, (male) Grell, and Ronald watching their S/O getting shot-not fatal but pretty severe enough to where it's touch and go before they pull through

my character limit for scenarios is 3, so I did reactions instead to make sure I got everyone in!

these got a lil bit longer than I usually make reactions... but that's ok! because it broke my heart :')

God, no… no, this can’t be happening, can it?! He can’t lose someone else… not like this…! To watch him react to it, it’s like watching an ‘instant motion’ button be hit. One second he’s frozen, and as soon as (Name) has been shot actually registers in his mind, he’s running over to be by their side. It triggers memories of how he tried to wake Luka as a child, not knowing what had happened, but this time he knows what happened. He’s sobbing when he reaches them, cradling them in his arms and patting at their face to keep them alert. All the while he’s screaming for one of his servants to do something, get someone, because he doesn’t want to leave (Name). By the time they all get to hospital, Alois is covered in blood from holding them and can’t stop crying as he waits for news; nobody really knows how to calm him down. Besides, a person should react in shock when their S/O gets shot, right? As far as everyone else is concerned, this is the healthiest overreaction to anything that the earl has had in a long time. Thank God, it’s a huge weight lifted off his shoulders when the doctors come to tell him that (Name) is probably going to be alright. Even though it’s going to be a long recovery, that they’re not completely out of trouble… they’re alive. They’re still here. The second Alois is told he’s allowed to see them, he spends every waking moment (and many sleeping moments) in their room, holding their hand. It’s not going to be easy getting them back on their feet… he’ll be there, though. Right by their side, where he belongs. He almost lost them, and he knows how lucky he is that he still has them.

What’s happening…?! The world suddenly moves in slow motion, and he sees every second of that bullet entering their body. It’s horrifying, it’s torture, and despite moving slowly, it all happens too fast for him to actually do a thing to stop it. He’s down on the ground next to them half a second after the bullet hits. He’s hoping that Sebastian will know instinctively to take care of the attacker, so Ciel busies himself with pressing a shaking hand against (Name)’s wound, as hard as he can. Even when they might yelp at the pain, he grits his teeth and doesn’t let up. The more pressure he can keep on it, the more it might keep the bleeding under control, the less blood they’ll lose, the less chance that he’ll lose them. As soon as he notices his ever faithful butler coming into frame, he shouts for Sebastian to get them to hospital. “Keep (Name) alive, and that’s an order!” He has never issued an order so ferociously before, and he likely doesn’t even realize he’s crying as he orders it. Of course, at hospital while he waits for news, he’s crying (and trying to suppress it) enough that he nearly works himself into an asthma attack. He can’t imagine losing his S/O, this person who’s stayed by his side, who he’s planned to spend the rest of his life with. He manages to hold it together for long enough to be told that (Name) is going to live, finally, so he’s able to calm down. While his mind is still going just as fast as that bullet, he’s flooded with relief. He regains his composure, and even though he isn’t in their recovery room all the time, he does spend the first night there sleeping on a bench by their bed. He makes sure things are just right at the manor for when they’re able to come home… and sets about finding the person who did this. No one gets away with shooting Ciel Phantomhive’s partner.

Get out of the way, they need to move—! What the hell is going on?! He tries to warn them, maybe because his trained ears heard the click of someone readying a gun to fire, maybe because he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Why anyone would want to shoot his S/O, he’s not sure, other than the possibility of it being to get to him; it’s unfortunate, but his family does have enemies. Although he couldn’t stop it from happening, he hurries to get (Name) out of danger, and he’s doing his very best not to lose his head. Stiff upper lip, right? He knows it will be harder to help them if he doesn’t keep his bearings. He raises his voice a little to tell his beloved that he needs them to follow him, as he pulls out his handkerchief to hold against the wound. Much as it makes him wince to have (Name) crying because he’s using so much pressure in an effort to stem the bleeding, he knows he has to do it. And, he doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life as he moves to get them to hospital. While they’re being tended to, he manages to get a hold of his sister, at least, so he brings Lizzie and Paula to sit with him. Not only does he know that Lizzie adores (Name), he also very much doesn’t want to be alone letting his thoughts run wild. Being able to comfort his crying sister keeps his head grounded. The more he tells Lizzie that everything is going to be okay, (Name) will be fine, it reinforces that for himself too. At last he’s able to see them, and the relief that they’re still alive crashes into him like a wave. He’ll deal with the mystery of exactly what happened later… for now, he just wants to focus on helping them recover. Whatever they might need, he’s here for them.

What the bloody devil is going on around here?! Why didn’t they move…? They’re smarter than that, he knows they are! Much like Alois, Grell’s first instinct is to freeze up, like his mind is denying the reality he’s seeing play out before him. He just can’t believe that it’s happening. Not to them. This is like something he sees when he takes souls, like something he knows will happen when he sees a new name in his ledger. But this… this is (Name). They’re not another name in his ledger. They’re his partner, and he is not going to just let them die. Ever defiant of the rules, he first eliminates the threat of them being shot again by absolutely tearing into the person who attacked them. He doesn’t care whether he’s incapacitated them or killed the shooter; he just cares that they can’t hurt his S/O a second time. His beloved chainsaw is left behind, and he yells for whoever he’s been roped into mentoring that they need to grab it and do the paperwork, because his hands suddenly got very full. The good news is, thanks to Reapers being supernatural, (Name) is at the hospital fast enough that they haven’t lost much blood by the time the doctors start working to save them. However, Grell can’t just sit still and wait. Their blood is all over his hands as he tried to keep pressure on their wound while getting them here, and for once, he’s almost nauseated by the color red. He paces, ignoring everyone else, perhaps going so far as to kick a door or two in frustration. He should have been able to help (Name). He feels useless, and two seconds after he’s told he can go see them, he’s at their bedside. Terribly romantic, this one… he holds their hand, he stays the night, he kisses them as many times as he thinks they can tolerate right now. Once they get out of here, he’s going to find a way to avoid work so he can take good care of them at home. He has nightmares about them becoming another corpse in the endless parade of death that fills his days, and it very nearly became something real. Suffice it to say, he’s going to dote on them so much they’ll be absolutely sick of him in a week… in the best way possible.

No, no, no, no, no! Has the world gone blinking mad? Why would anyone shoot at (Name)?! To get to him…? Although he tries his best to deflect the bullet with his sword… he’s too emotional, when he sees it heading for his partner, he becomes less accurate than he otherwise would be. He can’t stop it, he can’t do a damn thing, really. He loses his own balance for a moment, and scrambles over to press his hands against the wound his S/O has just gotten. He doesn’t know what else to do, other than be angry. The only saving grace is that he doesn’t need to give orders — Phipps went on the alert and dealt with the threat immediately, so there’s no danger of another bullet being fired. Not only that, compared to Grey almost losing his head in panic, his friend is much better under these circumstances. Phipps ushers them both into a carriage and is able to help put additional pressure on (Name)’s wound whilst they get to hospital as fast as is humanly possible. Grey, on the other hand, is starting to cry and hyperventilating, his hands shaking, begging (Name) not to leave him, to hang on, don’t they dare close their eyes, if he has to smack their cheek to keep them awake, he’ll do it! All that passion and energy of his translates into anxiety during moments of high stress. Grey is terrible at playing the waiting game once the doctors whisk his lover away, and he can’t even sit down. His nerves are shot so much so that the entire time the doctors are working, he’s just babbling away to Phipps. One can tell he’s not talking because he has anything to actually say, he’s talking because he’s terrified of the silence if he stops. Finally, he rushes into the room as soon as he’s able, but he’s afraid to touch (Name) too much. They’re fragile right now and he knows it, and he doesn’t want to make their pain worse. So, anyone Phipps might tell wouldn’t believe him that Grey is uncharacteristically gentle with them. The good part? Grey is able to give his lover the best of everything while they recover, and when they get home, he makes sure they’re comfortable. He’s… unsettled that he came so close to losing them. Despite that he doesn’t know how, he’s struck by the thought that he needs to be more careful with them.

Wait, no, wait, wait—!! He needs to stop this, somehow! He just… he can’t… his lover can’t have just been shot, can they?! There is, of course, no way to stop a bullet from hitting a target once it’s been fired, aside from finding another target. Unfortunately, he’s not very fast about moving when he’s in shock, and, well, seeing one’s S/O being shot will shock a man. When he snaps out of it only a second after hearing their cries of pain, any worries about the attacker are just ignored in favor of trying to get (Name) to hospital. If he can get them out of harm’s way, maybe they won’t be shot a second time, and maybe he can get them some help. Hopefully he’s being mentored that day, so he can shout for his mentor to help; with any luck, they’ll get everything else straightened out while Ronald rushes his S/O to the nearest hospital. He tries to stop the bleeding, but he’s been trained to assist death, not stop it, so his techniques are a little lacking, and mostly he just ends up with blood covering him. He just sits after he turns (Name) over to the doctors, he sits and tries to pray. He doesn’t think he’s very good at it… he still tries. He thinks if there is a God, at least He or She or They wouldn’t just let an innocent person die like that, right? That said, he doesn’t hold much faith in his own attempts at prayer, so he’s left sitting in a chair, violently hoping that the doctors know what they’re doing. He doesn’t really know what else to do. Thankfully, he’s able to see his S/O pretty soon, although he does much the same thing. He sits by their bed, running his fingers through their hair and telling them how much he loves them. That as soon as the doctors give them the go-ahead, he’s going to take them home, stay back from work for a bit, tend to them. It’s probably one of the few times (Name) ever sees that ever-cheerful smile of his turn into something softer, as he takes care of them.

[whilomm]

these are claims from a different whistleblower than the one that was totally not murdered by boeing

(disclaimer, im not an expert and this article doesnt go into a ton of detail on the specific issues, so i could be a lil off, these are very much non-expert speculation rambles. anyone who understands better, feel free to correct me/add more deets).

if im reading it right these claims get into the way boeing has been outsourcing more and more manufacturing of parts to other companies, such as for the fuselage (the plane body as a whole, big tube u sit in). if those parts dont quite fit together right (and keep in mind the margins of error on these things can be VERY small in some cases, though im not sure exactly how much wiggle room they got here), that can lead to too much stress on certain parts.

like, for example, if one part of the fuselage is just baaaarely too big for the next part it connects to, it might all seem to fit together perfectly fine, but every time it takes off and lands or goes thru compression cycles (that is when they take off and land, going from low pressure-high pressure-low pressure), it just puts a BIT too much pressure on where they join. and over the years, that pressure just adds up until theres microscopic stress fractures, which become slightly larger stress fractures, until they get big enough that once a plane reaches a high enough altitude theres a midair disentegration, which is. exactly as bad as it sounds.

(sidenote: compression cycles can be more important for determining an airplanes lifespan than flight hours. the usual metaphor is bending a paperclip back and forth until it breaks, how many times can you bend it before metal fatigue sets in and it just snaps. holding it in a more bent position however will take a lot longer to snap it generally.)

now to be clear, every single plane has an intended service life, and its well known that planes can only take so many compression cycles before they start to get really hard to maintain without going kablooey. a plane may be rated for like, idk, 50k compression cycles (so, taking off and landing 50k times before its retired, because after that its no longer worth the maintenance vs just making a new plane). but if it turns out that plane has some flaw in its build that means itll develop fatal stress factures at only 20k cycles, well. thats bad. not sure exactly how the schedule on looking for stress factures looks like for maintenece crews (do they do it regularly for all planes on a set schedule? do they only do it occasionally for new planes, and start to ramp up checks as the plane gets older? dunno!) but well. generally speaking, a plane having a fatal flaw that gives it an explosive midlife crisis is Bad. i would hope theyd catch it! but i dont know enough about the deets of fuselage maintenence to know the specifics.

and OH YAY COMPOSITE MATERIALS. now, before anyone gets too freaked out thinking about the uh. submarine. use of composite materials is actually far more common on planes than on subs for a buncha reasons. one, planes just generally undergo a lot less in terms of pressure (that futurama joke, "this spaceship can handle between one and zero atmospheres", vs subs that have to deal with tens to potentially hundreds of atmospheres) but also because apparently, for complicated material engineering reasons, composite materials work much better under tension (high pressure INSIDE pushing OUT, like airplane) than under compression (high pressure OUTSIDE pushing IN, like submarine). heres a vid from someone who wrote their masters on composite materials under compression if you wanna hear from someone slightly smarter on the subject. im not gonna pretend like i understand the full deets, but "composites do OKAY with tension" is enough for me, go read the fancy scientific papers if you want more.

now, so that people do freak out at least a little bit: hm. dont like that they are using Way More Composite Than Usual on this plane. how much is the usual? idk, i assume composites are much more popular with low altitude small aircraft (bc well, weight and less pressure worries), dunno whats considered normal for high altitude longhaul crafts. but, apparently, the dreamliner is "more than usual". which, yeah cool, lighter weight airplanes use less fuel which is better for longhaul flights. is it. well tested enough though???

...anyway. im not an engineer, idk the full Deets, but well. havin lotsa fun hearing the engineers talk about how the parts of the giant metal skybirds dont fit together quite right and theyre using materials that fail more catastrophically than metal with less warning, experimentally, and we dont quiiiite have the data to know if. its a problem. thats really fun! LOVE hearing about how much theyre outsourcing parts, given how bad quality control of things as tiny as the titanium in some bolts or a little bit of the engine blades being not properly vacuum forged has lead to catastrophic failure in the past, and knowing how important sourcing of parts in airplanes is. all VERY yay!

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

who i was before

(robert aeor high au p11)

masterpost

i love how i say you might not get more writing for a long time and then just dump this on you the same day lmao

If he loses him… Jimmy doesn’t know what he’ll do, he doesn’t know what he’d say, he doesn’t know if he could go on living. Because these past seven months that he’s known Scott have been some of the best of his life, no, scratch that, the best months of his life. Jim grits his teeth, taking a couple seconds to lean against the wall and steady his breathing again. Why is this so hard? 

or, finally things get a lil figured out (took them long enough)

tw: all the usual thingies

(3306 w)

The beat is steady, one after another after another after another, predictable. It doesn’t change as he breathes in and out and in and out, trying to calm his flooded nerves, everything too bright or too cold or too loud or too rough. He can’t handle it, so he focuses on his heart, the same steady rhythm pumping out again and again and again, his breath ragged and cutting into his lungs.

Jimmy is shaking again. He can’t stop shivering, pulling his blankets over himself and staring out at the star-flooded sky. He was so close. Scott had been there, just… there, inches away from his own face, so close it had made Jimmy’s heart ache, beating much faster than the slow, laboring tread that pumps in his chest now. 

But honestly: what had he been thinking? Scott’s made it very clear, abundantly clear, that he doesn’t like Jimmy- he always pushes away after extended physical contact, always keeps an extra six inches of space between him and Jimmy at all times, and altogether is just… he’s so obvious about the level to which he is not interested in Jimmy, and yet Jim just keeps trying, and oh god, he’d almost kissed  Scott down there-

Jimmy shudders harder, no longer accustomed over these six months to sleeping alone. He’s used to Scott, right on the other side, breathing shallowly and purposefully, the gentle, repetitive noise having lulled Jimmy to sleep many a night. But now he’s not here, he’s probably decided that he can’t stand the sight of Jimmy, he’s probably so disgusted by what the avian’s just done that he can’t even think to live in the same house as him.

Jimmy’s ruined everything, he’s made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and now everything is horrible and he’s hated and despised by the only person he’s ever thought to love-

The tears he’s been holding back begin to drip through his eyes, and he curls into the fetal position, wings pulled around him on all sides, the familiar texture of his feathers blanketing his shivering arms. He doesn’t even know what Bek had wanted when she’d called him upstairs, but once he left, he knew he couldn’t go back, Scott probably would’ve just gotten more embarrassed.

After all, Scott’s genuinely the strongest, funniest, and most sensitive person Jimmy’s ever known. What could he ever see in the likes of the sniveling avian who can’t do anything right? And now he knows Jimmy’s past- he had just felt so comfortable standing there in the kitchen with his head leaning on Scott’s shoulder, it had felt like how everything was supposed to be.

It was so comfortable that he absolutely just trauma-dumped on Scott. And not just a small trauma dump either; he’s literally just spilled his entire life story to the person he has to live with. The person who came to him for help when he was in need. These past six months have been torture enough, and Jimmy doesn’t need even more reason for Scott to be repulsed by him. He thought he was making progress with the gorgon, and now he finds he just… well, he’s kind of ruined everything, hasn’t he?

Plus, what he’s been through is dwarfed when compared to Scott’s struggles, the pain he’s probably gone through every day of his life. What does Jimmy have in comparison? A woman who took him from family he didn’t even know. The worst thing to happen to him in the past year is just the occasional breakdown, which really, just ridiculous when he remembers the fact that Scott got kicked out of his fucking house.

Jimmy needs to apologize. He needs to go downstairs and apologize right now, regardless of how awkward and embarrassing it might be, he doesn’t think he can live with himself if he doesn’t. He doesn’t know if Scott can live with him if he doesn’t, and though his stomach is a mess of worms gnawing at him from the inside out, it’s something that needs to be done. So he gathers himself up from the shaking mess he’s become, taking a couple deep breaths and smoothing out his nightgown.

The descent down the stairs is slow and quivering, each step an opportunity to go back, he hasn’t gone too far into this yet, if he wants he can just ignore it and never think of it again. But Jimmy’s ignored too many of his problems for too long, he ignored how wrong Patty was until the only viable option was to run away, he ignored his homelessness for the better part of three months, because surely anything was better than Patty, right? And worst of all, he’s completely ignored all the problems that he and Scott need to iron out if they want to have a healthy friendship.

Jimmy is not a brave canary. But he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep Scott, even if it’s just as friends. Because Jimmy is in love and that knowledge is like a fire burning in the pit of his stomach, propelling him onwards until he’s stood in front of the basement door, taking in the flaking jade green paint, his hand hovering, shakingly and indecisively, above the golden knob.

Is he really going to do this? Is this really the best move? He realizes how easily it could all backfire, blowing up in his face like a ticking time bomb. Scott could be so angry, or sad, or just- Jimmy catches himself, breathing in and out, in and out, trying to calm his anxiety. It’s fine. Scott’s not like that. That’s not going to happen. All he wants is his friend back, he reminds himself, all he wants is a friend. That’s it. That’s all.

(it’s not but he has to pretend or it’s too much it’s too much too much too much-)

And he lowers his hand to the doorknob, turning it slowly, almost excruciatingly so, and pushing the door open. More stairs open beneath him, like a maw trying to swallow him up, but there’s no going back now. Scott’s almost certainly heard the door open, and if Jimmy chickens out, it’ll just make more confusion and problems that spiral onward and never get fixed. 

Jimmy’s always been a curious little bird.  

Step by step by step, Jimmy walks slowly down to the basement, his heart going off like a rabbit cage in his chest. He is so unspeakably nervous, there are no words, no metaphors, that one could use to describe it other than the simple fact that he is terrified. It needs to be done, he keeps reminding himself, he needs to apologize for the better of all of them, it needs to be done. And he’s almost crying now, shaking harder than ever, because he loves Scott, he loves him more than he’s ever loved anyone before.

If he loses him… Jimmy doesn’t know what he’ll do, he doesn’t know what he’d say, he doesn’t know if he could go on living. Because these past seven months that he’s known Scott have been some of the best of his life, no, scratch that, the best months of his life. Jim grits his teeth, taking a couple seconds to lean against the wall and steady his breathing again. Why is this so hard? 

The realization hits him before he realizes what it is, a sudden dread spilling over him like uncooked egg white before he can figure out what it means.

If he really wants there to be no deception, no falsehoods and confusion between them, he’s going to have to tell Scott he likes him. And that could just make everything worse, but maybe it could make everything better, Jimmy doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he just doesn’t know-

It’ll be worth it, he reminds himself, it’ll be worth it in the end. He has to get this over with. It’s not even an option anymore, it’s a necessity. He can’t back out now, no more skittish avian, Jimmy’s going to be strong and brave and worthy of Scott. He peels himself back from the wall and continues down the stairs, a steady rhythm of steps that he doesn’t break. Step, down, pause, step, down, pause.

Until he turns the corner and there’s Scott, sat stony-faced on the couch, staring straight ahead at nothing. Most people wouldn’t be able to see it, but Jimmy’s eyes catch on the slight glimmer in Scott’s, and he pushes forwards to join the gorgon on the sofa.

Neither of them say anything for a long time, the feet between them feeling like miles and the air in the basement almost bitingly cold.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy blurts out when the silence gets too excruciating and it’s clear Scott isn’t going to say anything. “I’m sorry I got spooked and ran off and- I’ve been such a terrible friend, I’m so dishonest- I’m so damn sorry about everything, Scott.”

“Jimmy-” The gorgon’s voice breaks, and he turns his head down towards his lap, pulling his knees up to his chest. “You’re so… you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

“Wha- no!? Look, I’m trying to apologize here, I’m not fishing for compliments,” Jimmy rebuffs, completely taken aback. He can feel the heat snaking through him and resting decidedly on his cheeks, where he’s sure the red must be spreading rapidly.

“You think-” Scott laughs tiredly, leaning his head on his knees to look towards Jim, “You think you’ve messed up somehow? How is that even possible? You’ve been through so much, and you’re still thinking of others before yourself. You probably haven’t ever said a negative word about anyone in your life, and I just- you’re so strong. So strong. And you’re pretty, and smart, and funny and just- how on earth are you friends with me? The stupid, traumatized gorgon who can’t do anything right?” How can Scott think of himself like that?

“I have messed up, Scott!” Jimmy needs him to see it, he needs someone to agree with him, because what he’s done is wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong. “I’m not strong and I’m not perfect and I really haven’t been through all that much to be honest with you, all that’s happened is a stupid person took me from family I never even got the chance to know. Let me apologize! I’m sorry for everything and if you want to move out, you are absolutely welcome to. Please don’t feel like you’re obliged to stay here because that was the choice you made when you weren’t feeling right in the head.”

Scott’s face goes bright red, his mouth hanging slightly open like he hasn’t quite formulated what he wants to say yet, glaring at Jimmy with tears in his eyes. “You think I could ever leave you?! How could anyone ever leave you, even if they wanted to- I’m genuinely hurt that you think I could do that. I lo- I really value you, Jim.”

“THEN WHY DO YOU PUSH AWAY WHENEVER I GET EVEN A LITTLE BIT CLOSE?!” Jimmy yells, all his other feelings being swiftly replaced with confused anger. He takes a deep breath and continues, his words measured but still not without a slight sting that he can’t quite keep out.

“If you value me so much- and like hell that’s the word you were going to use- then why don’t you show it? Why do you leave me just- if I’m so important to you, then why don’t you ever talk to me? Why do you keep this distance between us? It fucking hurts, Scott, especially considering you’ve lived in my house for six months now. If I’m really so perfect and strong and- and desirable as a friend, then what is your reasoning for staying so… I would say cold, but that’s a bit punny, isn’t it.” He laughs mirthlessly, fists clenched tight to his crossed legs, tension defining his body.

“Because I already almost ruined things. Twice. And I’m trying not to do that again.” He’s infuriatingly calm, the only emotion displayed on his face is a sweet, broken sadness.

“That’s all you have to say?! You haven’t ruined things, Scott, you’re literally the reason I haven’t killed myself yet. Yes, you,” he adds at Scott’s shocked expression. “What on earth do you mean you ‘almost ruined everything’?! You. Are. The. Reason. I’m. Still. Here.” Jimmy crawls forward, punctuating each word with a sharp jab of his finger to Scott’s chest.

“I kissed you, Jim.” The anguish in Scott’s face is almost enough to make Jimmy break, the sadness and lost possibilities expounding in his face. “I kissed you and then I kept- I keep almost doing it again. That’s why I’m keeping my distance.”

“You think I care, you idiot?” Jimmy growls, tossing his hands up into the air exasperatedly. “You think that changes anything?”

“Jimmy, you don’t understand!” Scott’s waxing patronizing now, and Jimmy can see how hard he’s trying to get his point across.

“What don’t I understand? Try me, I bet you’d be surprised.” He crosses his arms challengingly, almost smirking at Scott’s blush. He’s way past the point of being scared now, and honestly can’t remember why he was even worried in the first place.

“I- I kept wanting to kiss you. I still want to kiss you almost every time you look at me.” The truth written on the edges of Scott’s voice hits Jimmy more than he’d thought it would, and he has to fight hard to stop from shivering.

“Then do it.” Scott likes him.

“What-” Jimmy knows it’s true.

“You heard me. Go ahead then, I’ve given you my consent,” Jimmy says, heart beating out of control, too fast for him to even consider trying to slow down.

“A-are you sure?” Scott asks, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his shirt.

Jimmy almost cries after he laughs, months of worry and distance about to be resolved. “Scott. You know me. Would I be asking if I wasn’t?”

Scott doesn’t answer, looking sadly off to the side, but his silence speaks a thousand words.

“So kiss me, you absolute fool. I’m ready for it.”

And Scott does, lips pressing into Jimmy’s, moving gently, softly, frozen.

Almost immediately, Jimmy is drowning. He is deep beneath the ocean and he is flying through the stars and he was absolutely not ready for this, why did he ever say he was, Scott’s lips are so cold- Jimmy’s hands are shaking in his lap, and he wants more than anything to pull them up to frame Scott’s face, he wants to touch every inch of the gorgon’s frozen skin, warm it up with his own hands. 

But before he can, Scott’s frozen hands are gripping his, his mouth pushing forward into Jimmy’s, opening slightly, and his teeth are so sharp- Jimmy shudders at the feeling of them against his lips, and he wants nothing more than to push back, pull forward and wrap his arms around Scott’s neck, but he can’t, he can’t and he doesn’t know why-

“Was that okay?” Scott asks, pulling away, his cheeks flushed and eyes darting this way and that. 

Jimmy is speechless.

How can Scott be saying that? It wasn’t okay, absolutely not, it was everything and more, it was a whole lifetime, a thousand novels full of words, packed into a single, intimate touch. Jimmy hasn’t properly known anything until this moment, and he’ll look back later and categorize his life into two parts: before the kiss, and after.

He already can’t stand the distance, pushing in on him from all sides, if he doesn’t get close to Scott he’ll pull away, and then Jimmy will be alone again, left in the basement by himself the same way he’d left Scott. But he can’t respond, he can’t speak, he can’t- he can’t do anything-

“Jimmy?” Scott’s lips form his name so perfectly, and it’s all he wants to hear, he never wants to listen to anything other than his name from Scott’s mouth ever again. “Are you- was it too much?”

No. “I- I can’t really- can’t really talk right now, sorry,” Jim mutters, swallowing quickly. “Um. Can I- can we do it again?”

“O-oh,” Scott looks surprised, and honestly, he’s so ridiculous, isn’t it the most obvious thing in the universe how much Jimmy loves him? “Yeah, sure, I’d- I think I’d like tha-”

Jimmy doesn’t wait for him to finish his sentence before he leans forward, pulling his arms around Scott’s neck and stealing another, strong and ferocious where the first was soft and safe, because he’s been missing out on this for so long, too long, are you kidding him? Scott’s hands reach up to ghost along Jimmy’s wings before landing in his hair, and Jim can feel him smiling gently against his lips and all his air is gone.

He is falling he’s falling he’s falling and falling and falling.

Jimmy shivers and he needs to be closer, he wants to feel all of Scott against him- he pulls back for a second to catch his breath and Scott grins, more confident and alive than Jimmy’s ever seen him. “You are such an idiot,” the gorgon whispers affectionately, leaning forward until their foreheads are touching and sparks are flying between them, the knowledge that this is what Jimmy’s been missing out on the past many months almost destroying him.

“So I’m the idiot now?”

Scott rolls his eyes and leans forward, kissing gently, insistently, over and over again against Jimmy’s mouth, fireworks going off between their lips as he pushes forward, all shivers and soft cold skin and full of life. Scott’s eyes are bright and hopeful, and the need for closeness is so overpowering that Jimmy just can’t help it anymore, climbing atop Scott’s lap before the gorgon can protest.

Jimmy moves his hands from Scott’s neck to his chin, cradling the angular point as he kisses over and over, gently removing Scott’s shades and setting them down beside them as he pushes forward, his lips moving from Scott’s mouth to his cheek to his nose to his forehead and all around again, tracing circles around the familiar face.

Scott’s shaking, little noises sprouting from the back of his throat, and his hands move to touch Jimmy’s waist, gently at first, then squeezing harder and harder as Jimmy’s kisses grow more intense, wishes finally given physical form. Jim’s arguably shuddering even harder than Scott, little noises perking up in the back of his throat as Scott’s hands press ever tighter into his midriff. Jimmy pulls away, and Scott takes his opportunity in earnest, pulling one of Jim’s hands away from his chin and kissing each of the fingers softly, gently, cold lips against Jimmy’s knuckles.

Their eyes meet each other’s and they’re both crying and laughing and-

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy says, wiping the tears from Scott’s eyes. 

“You really apologize too much,” Scott laughs, pulling Jimmy close to him. He wants to melt away forever, he wants to fall into Scott and never leave.

“We’re both so stupid,” Jimmy laughs against Scott’s chest, strong arms cradling him so gently he’s going to break.

“I think that one might be on me, petal.” The affection in Scott’s voice is so genuine, so overflowing and real, that Jimmy breaks down into a fresh onslaught of tears, relief and anguish and months and months of yearning packed into a single shaking moment, together in each other’s arms, tears and laughter and finally, finally a solid understanding between the two of them as Scott gently presses his lips to the crown of Jimmy’s head.

“Do you want to finish the rest of the episode?” Scott asks. Jimmy nods against him, sniffling quietly away at his tears.

“Yeah.”

[scary-lasagna]

Hellooo there!! :D I have a request for any hcs/imagines that you have maybe? I have Tourettes Syndrome and one of my strangest tics include flipping something, like a bottle, my phone, or anything I have in my hand and somehow I always catch it. Once I flipped a cup of coffee and the liquid actually landed back in the cup. Anyways, do you have any ideas for some funny/strange tics Toby might have? He's my favorite boi.

Here's some I've written a while ago.

Like realistic tics, some of these come and go, and some of them stay for longer than he would like. And some of them are silly :]

He has medicine to suppress his tics for when he goes on missions or proxy work for his own and others' safety. But he's discouraged taking them at home because of tolerance.

Toby's Tics

Popping his thumbs

Popping his thumbs next to someone's ear (specifically Jeff's. this is usually on purpose but he'll never admit it)

Clearing his throat

Stomping on sensitive items (he stomped so many pumpkins Slender would be using for pies for Thanksgiving that year)

That stuttering he has? It's a tic that makes him quickly sigh/expel air. It frustrates him and it's physically exhausting. But luckily it comes and goes.

Just lightly tapping the side of his foot on anything. Usually Sally or Ben's head.

"EGG" and an accusing finger point at it whenever he sees a hard-boiled egg. This does not happen with fried or poached. Jeff and Ben concluded that after scientific research. (putting various eggs in front of him).

He's done this to Slender before. Everyone laughed. Slender did not.

"I have a mustache :))" and he puts a pencil above his lips

Is not allowed to be within 6 feet of a flour bag.

And even then Slender has a hasty time holding him back or rescuing the flour before he just does a quick spin with it

Popping his arm out to the side. This is how he gets away with punching Jeff in the stomach after he says something stupid.

"But Vanessa!"

Finger painting with Sally was fun cause he ended up with more paint on himself than the paper

He clicks his utensils together exactly 6 times quickly whenever he picks them up. no one asks if this is a tic or just a lil Toby thing he does.

He crushes eggs. A lot.

"I'm a raging lunatic and I've been arrested 4 times for attempted murder" at the dinner table. at 3am. in McDonalds. at senior citizen Bingo. the grind doesn't stop.

His tics have a habit of attaching to one word/phrase he hears in the morning.

[villains4hire]

Ash Von Graven. (Final Space) (Fanon Reboot)

1. I will just open up with: yes this is an extremely overpowered character, especially for her prologue I plan on doing as her main, really only verse other than flashbacks if you'd like to be in her backstory before her main verse, which I do welcome. Her max power however is plot only, as that's quite literally something she wouldn't use even if she died if it meant using it in a populated galaxy. But think like the incredible hulk but as a Psyker to put it bluntly, she'll always have a pretty heavy power scaling but pulls her punches because of what can happen if she doesn't, but can lose herself to her rage. I am aware she possibly died in the original intended ending, but with Mooncake with her? I doubt it, thus my iteration and continuation but I would've done it anyway.

2. On that note: you can expect self-harm, suicidal tendencies, eldritch-induced insanity, hallucinations and more when she's unstable, but expect whacky humor and her being odd, cute and occasionally creepy best girl when she's stable or just usually fine, and I will stop using the tag when it's no longer an issue. I don't mind putting it where she's just herself. As I do combine both aspects of Eldritch God and Ash together for her personality (including her old self with a mature take but can still be immature like Gary for example), granted, she has more restraint now that she's whole again. There will be times where I will do the new addition to her personality of raging but being in control. I do know how to write mental break and all that, but I really do enjoy her whimsical, odd nature at times and I think it might be neat to combine, so I will stress that while some of it may resemble real-world mental illness, it isn't that entirely and there will be far too many aspects that overshadow it.

3. No offense to the creator, as I have zero idea what went behind the scenes for Final Space, but S3's ending with Fox, Ash was all really weak and flimsy as why she'd betray the crew unless being corrupted by Invictus since HE killed Fox, straight up without even hiding it, so it's why I gave her an even better reason of doing it to save them from Final Space which was canon anyway as the cracks faded from them once he was freed at the end. As I will say Invictus on that note will be replaced with Darth Bane's or voice done by Mark Hamil from 2008, 2014 or 2019 or some other booming voices like 'The Many from System Shock 2' would be really creepy as I couldn't take his voice seriously otherwise. I've watched too much Joel of Vinesauce and his 'Shock Master' if you've seen it.

4. This character is considered to be my OWN RUN of the character like someone else writing a reboot of a character in DC or Marvel comics and out the gate starts at the age of 19 to 23. Why? The series got canned and I wrote my own fanon ending, continuation and conclusion already made. Her characterization has been expanded on but kept to canon-compliant along with slight redesigns to give her fin ears and a tail since her people are canonically lizard people from her homeworld and Olan more or less even wanted her brother’s race to be a race of dog people originally like Lil Cato’s species being a cat people so eh, I’ll do it my way to make her still an alien but adult alien lizard lady. On that note? She is shippable in any verse now due to my massive visual edits, but if you flirt with her? It is presumed she is MENTALLY WELL ENOUGH in the timeline and may just say some odd things here and there and not only that, to put her in inappropriate situations such as joking a little far et cetera. This was done mostly to assure people how committed I was to this change, as I have a total of around 440ish edited icons for my reboot version of this character and more or less I believe Olan would’ve kept her either as a child or would’ve had her be an adult from the get-go rather than do the weird real-time aging up on screen as he was forced by investor meddling. By all means, I am using the story of Final Space, but only up to S3 and even my S3 is heavily rewritten and I may or may not borrow upcoming graphic novel ideas but may simply reject them in its entirety.

5. I suggest reading my ->Final Space Disclaimer<- for my characters.

This is my faceclaim for her visually and I realize the fin ears are bigger for her icons but it looked weirder with them small since the model wasn’t designed for it compared to my S3 redesign. So this is what she looks like before her glowup after S3 and is no longer temporarily insane.

My Ash reference! Where her eye was missing on her old form is now a void eye like when she uses her powers, though is just like that now. Granted her other eye also changes to the same color when using them, then I will say that the mohawk period exists but is such a brief time period? That I won’t be using most of the icons from there. As at the peak of her timeline with you/is brought out of her temporary insanity? She grows her hair out again, it flows more similar to how it did in S2 when she was a fluffball when she uses her powers, and both eyes become a void eye and so on. While the mohawk version of Ash exists still? It is a very brief period to the point that I will no longer be using those icons other than the ones I salvaged.

Do I want them to die: Yes, go ahead, talk it out with me though. She’s not going to be easy to kill at all really. Will I have/get icons: I have a lot to them all edited personally. They are available ON REQUEST but you have to give me direct credit for them, so this one time I will ask to tell me if using them and you’ll be immediately approved if I see a link to my blog that stays up. Removing the link is considered you’ve stopped using them in public. Tag: void inheritor (main continuation verse) She doesn’t take Clarence’s middle name until this verse | happy again (her second reference with her hair grown out again) |  stable | unstable | always been you: this is the verse for Ash before her S3 conclusion and my ending and continuation for her as a character. This is for fun interactions as with my main verse Ash and both are intended to be used in conjunction with each other to establish how they know your character. This character is shippable in any verse, void inheritor is now presumably just fused to happy again as a verse if happy again as a tag is used and happy again will remain end game verse. Age: 19-23 verse dependent. Sex: AMAB (Granted she's an alien and literally an Eldritch Being) Gender: Trans Female by human standards but her family, even if human never made many remarks about it. It's the future and in space, I doubt they care. Goes by he/she. Race: Serepentian (Simply her default appearance) Eldritch God (Pretty much her entire being?) Sexuality: If she likes you but she's pretty open so long as you're an adult. I will only smut with her by the way when she's stable, it's kind of weird otherwise in a not okay way I feel. I am fine with her getting a little frisky with it though while stable. Personality traits: Her personality includes even parts of her eldritch half: such as sadism, possessiveness. masochism, trigger-happy, rage-filled. Prone to fits of maniacal laughter and sometimes comedic ramblings, sayings, or just as part of who she is now. As for her more known side? I'd say she's loving, sweet if not a bit odd but can be adorably sweeter now yet is more mature, but is a goofball deepdown and can be pretty cute in how she is if she's really comfortable with you as she will say stuff like ‘pew pew pew’ in one translation when shooting lasers at something with you. She's less weird when it comes to having people like when she met Little Cato as 'property' or a 'pet' and really reserves that kind of behavior more or less to put her boot on some jackass. Has some pretty big rage issues. Has no real sense of shame other than when it comes to hurting others, but is pretty shameless when it comes to herself. Pretty blunt, upfront. Cares, but often too much though it’s why she can tap into so much anger to fuel her powers. Self-sacrificing. Mental traits: Eldritch Insanity spiking can be a problem at times, especially if first coming out of the prologue. This eventually will go away completely once she's older and fully matured as an Eldritch God, but can become more stable given enough time or intervention. This was only a problem due to her refusing to let Invictus mutate her into a mature, yet servile inheritor Eldritch God Spawn of his should anything had ever befallen him after he had completed his goals. When a fully grown Eldritch God? She will no longer experience this as it’s two opposites with her beyond what should exist yet does for her void spawn side, then her original, alien life existence side conflicting and melding together is why to settle down fully it takes a bit of time. It’s like a form of hybrid puberty with her. Physical traits: Expect all caps when talking in her Eldritch Tone: Stands around 4′8 to 5′2 depending on verse and is flat-chested due to her species being a lizard race. Has fins on the side of her head to replace her previous canon ears, then a plain looking reptilian tail that isn't out in the open unless she likes you, feels like it or it's the happy again verse. It reaches to the ground, she can stand on it, hang upside down and it's rather flexible and can stretch. Then can vary from 10’0 in her rage form to 30ish ft tall. See above when she grows out her hair again, but I will note that her 'always been you’ verse I do have her slightly more 'built’ and is 4′8 to reflect the canon change I made I addressed earlier in the bios from how weirdly this character was handled. There’s no real difference other than subtle thickening of the limbs, neck, then only so slightly to the head and waist- a good reference to this bodytype would also be an altered shape of Madeline's as it'd just be the body and limbs with less thickness in the legs, lazy, I know, but eh, close enough. She carries a tablet of Clarence and Fox on it in her continuation verse, and also Fox’s dogtag with her and now his photo in it on the back, reading ‘Fox 7821, the Unbreakable.‘ Powers: Dark Energy Manipulation - Beyond God Levels. But she can only tap into this at great risk of losing control, so I'd say that she could probably blow up a small continent without risk. But to go further is to tap into her Eldritch Blood to a point of great risk. So like, think the Incredible Hulk but not at his Max Power as I'd have to plot that. So I will say at full power that even the likes of someone like One Punch Man, Bill Cipher, or Goku would die for example as it's literally dark matter used by an Eldritch God that you'd expect out of HP Lovecraft levels of incomprehensible horror. Telekinesis - It works how you would expect, she can on that note of mind powers also mind control people, but rarely does it for personal reasons. Flight - not needed to be explained. Pyrokinesis - This is her eldritch flames, it plays into the dark energy manipulation. Eldritch Immortality - she can die and be destroyed after great effort but will resurrect in the void of space and rage-based regeneration as a Void Spawn, so the angrier she is? Yeah, you get the picture and relative theme to the character in canon or otherwise. Regardless, the weapon that was used on Invictus was a one of a kind but not impossible to recreate, it would just take forming an entire galaxy until you found the material you needed in the countless fabrics of reality he ripped through and unintentionally he created for how I headcanon it. I don't plan on perma-killing her other than in bad ends where she's not fully awakened, as in Final Space? There are countless iterations of the characters that have died including Ash as Ash unawakened is simply where she dies, as it's part of Invictus's deal to awaken her. Eldritch Veil - Ash has a true form that looks like her own variant of Invictus when she goes berserk, though can tap into it if she's in control of her rage. Otherwise, her 'humanoid' form is simply her original, default form. Corruptive Nature - if you somehow managed to absorb her, let alone soul suck her? You would either have her prison break or if it's you in particular or someone else? She would act as a parasite that'd rapidly kill the being in question eventually, regardless of who they are. Teleportation - if she knows the location? It depends how far she is from it, though could teleport anywhere if she got angry enough but again, the above. Serepentian Biology - Less relevant in her canon post-verse, but I do have Ash’s species be like reptilian aliens. They’re highly durable, able to survive extremely harsh conditions, then have regeneration, have scales but it’s very smooth and have reptilian teeth, claw hands and feet and has little gecko pads on her feet to climb things like even glass windows, then has a relatively strong bite force, she could bite off a limb for example of a human. Can hiss similar to a crocodile and has a bit of sproing in her jump. She has venom glands that she can shoot out a jet of venom from her mouth about 10 feet, then a diseased bite more akin to a far more lethal version of a komodo dragon, but has to stimulate herself with fighting to produce the diseases and bacteria her body accumulates, so her just nibbling you would do nothing. As for her tongue? She uses it to taste the air to track and if people are well or not and can remember the people she likes via that ability. It is a long teal, chameleon tongue that can be used to snag probably up to medium-sized bird or small dog for its strength at a length of around 6 ft. As for her ‘hair’, it’s more of a purple-down like feather quality that can flex and fluff but grows back like hair. Her species age wise is immortal and usually die from being sacrificed rather than of natural or unnatural causes. Parasites cannot survive in her species bodies, bacteria is also only able to survive in her saliva and digestive tract but ultimately is not effected by viruses or diseases and most forms of poison, pollution, and radiation. Notably, these traits can be strengthened with well, ‘hurting her’ and it’s a part of the culture she was previously that’s a literally cult world filled with weirdoes, but of course not all of them. There’s more to this biology since I’ve been requested stuff already for her post fanon ending verse for smut, but I won’t go into that here. Motivations: Above all, her family and loved ones. To regain better control and then revive Bolo to help rebuild the realities and the damage done... and if possible? Revive her lost loved ones though it’s not something she’s willing to go obsessive over. To be loved and to love. To have fun. Maybe take up a few odd hobbies here and there. To explore. To see the universe and all the realities in the endless spans of existence. Backstory:

I am using the same backstory as canon Ash. But she had one last conversation with her adopted dad, Clarence that made her break down into tears as she had contacted him and wanted to see him- only for him to hesitantly answer in the last few minutes of his life as they said their goodbyes, caught up with what they could and his regrets, how he wished he could take it all back and Ash finally forgiving him, along with Clarence softly sniffling with a few tears somewhere in it for learning Fox was dead, but trying to keep strong but then Ash watching him die.

The similarities end however with my ending of ->sacrifice<- if you click the links, her ->let go<- prologue - her continuation as a character ->goodbye<-

Then her motivations are more or less the simple change that she was subtly going insane, being corrupted by Invictus. Then ultimately her conversation went along the lines in response to Gary, Quinn, Avocado (Quinn not being there) more or less, angry they kept it hidden from her. Though deep down she sensed something was terribly wrong and I base it on her overhearing Avocado saying they were going to die but also the fact he killed Lil Cato’s parents. I will say that Gary ‘killing’ Fox is less relevant here since Invictus made ZERO attempts to hide he did it, but it did start the first major crack in her mindstate which was apart of his plan. Thus what led to the breakdown, bringing Lil Cato more or less with her out of instinct rather than being any form of mentally well. Then her attempted murder of Gary and Avocado would’ve threaded the needle as she would’ve just snapped their necks with telekinesis but instead pushed them away the only way she knew how out of instinct when first breaking and couldn’t control herself, as they were wearing suits, etc. Then it ends with her unable to find Moon Cake at the time before she left with Lil Cato as let’s say he was ‘out’ for whatever reason. Then that led to the whole scenario where they confront her at Invictus and Gary apologizing for failing her, failing Fox and failing to save them all from dying, but begging her to not do this to which she replied, which wasn’t her real feelings, rather all the resentment, being upset, driven insane, yet an unhinged, odd snapping calms mixed in throughout it all, “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU; I HATE YOU! Though... I guess that’s just how I always end up with my family, isn’t it? HAHAHA. But I’m going to save you all. So. GET. OUT. OF MY WAY.” Then things play out as normal with the Lord Commander arriving and then getting shafted, the added note is that she teleports Moon Cake out after she’s done with him, again, out of instinct and what gives Gary, Moon Cake and then later Bolo who reaches out to them using an artifact they find while on the Arachnitect’s journey to build the weapon which has taken countless dead universes to build should Invictus ever truly return.

As for the Lord Commander? The odd man out from all of this? Eh, we can make him and his forces a reoccuring villain but he’s too afraid to face Ash directly. Otherwise fuck em’, we don’t need him as I like him as a villain and he was cool, but I don’t think he was too important and most likely served a purpose perhaps after S4 since a S5 had been planned. Though the cliche is him taking Invictus’s power something, I suspect it might’ve had to do with time travel again to correct the wrongs with Ash, Fox etc and maybe get the entire gang together, but who knows, we may never know but I think I did a relatively decent job tying things together at least on Ash’s end and totally left it open to mesh with other endings from rper’s without being too intrusive as I’m fine with different people appealing to Ash, just Lil Cato, Moon Cake made the most sense since she liked them the most.

Then for a little tidbit on Bolo though if there are ever any Bolo rpers? I will admit my main ending with my Ash does involve Bolo being her Commander as he leads the new, albeit limited number Titans to rebuild at the behest of Ash. As the two become rather good friends with the whole mind thing, reviving him to the point I’d say besties and act a bit goofy sometimes as Bolo has shown. As for why Bolo was bodied so easily by the Lord Commander? I will say that he had worn himself down an incredible amount in his Titan Massacre that took place off screen/my fanon imagined s4+ flashback. He had unintentionally broken himself into madness in the end, but was glad to have a successor such as Ash deal with the Invictus if he ever came back, and he was totally eating Astral Popcorn as he watched Invictus get blasted and then Gary and Sheryl shoving the Arachnitect weapon into his head, then later exploding probably after they escape going, “WOO! IT TOOK A THOUSAND LIFETIMES BUT WE GOT YOU IN THE END YOU SMUG BASTARD!” Or something like that, as he had honestly thought it was the end so let him have this.

[venusiangguk]

the art of doubting | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst

>>word count: 17k -.-

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs

>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.

Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.

Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.

“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”

You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”

Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.

“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”

You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.

He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”

You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.

Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.

It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.

On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.

You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”

He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”

“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”

It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.

There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”

His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.

Wish you could have come

It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.

“What flavor is it?”

“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.

“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.

Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.

He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.

“Do them over me.”

Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”

“I wanna help,” you reason.

“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.

You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”

“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”

“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”

“You are so ungrateful.”

He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”

You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”

“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.

“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.

He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”

You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”

“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.

“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”

Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.

But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.

You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.

Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.

“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.

Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.

Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”

A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”

Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.

He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.

“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.

The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.

He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.

You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.

He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.

“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.

When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.

You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”

Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.

Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.

When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.

His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.

His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.

“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”

Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.

“Keep licking,” he moans.

You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.

You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.

In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.

Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.

He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.

The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.

You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.

Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.

You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.

“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.

“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.

The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.

As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.

He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.

“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.

Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.

“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.

He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”

“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.

“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.

You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”

Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”

When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.

It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.

Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.

It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.

His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.

He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.

His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.

“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”

He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.

“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.

The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.

At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.

“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.

He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.

Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.

He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.

“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.

Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.

“Look baby,” he tells you.

It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.

Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.

“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.

Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.

“Faster– getting close...”

Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.

“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.

He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”

And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.

“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”

That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”

You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.

“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”

It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.

“Who are you asking?”

A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.

“I…”

“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.

You say the first thing that pops into your head.

“Daddy?”

A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.

“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”

At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.

“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”

Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.

“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”

Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.

You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.

The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.

“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.

“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.

“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.

And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.

“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.

He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.

And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”

“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”

He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.

The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.

His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.

“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”

Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.

You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.

“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.

Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–

“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.

“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.

Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.

He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.

“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.

You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.

As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.

He kisses you again and again and again.

~~~

There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.

When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.

Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.

Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.

He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.

He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.

It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.

It feels like a–

It feels like–

Jeongguk takes his time with you.

It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.

He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.

He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.

When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.

After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”

~~~

“Wear this one, you look good in white.”

Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.

He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.

“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.

“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.

He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”

You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”

The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.

“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.

Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.  

So of course you just change the subject.

“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”

“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”

“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”

He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”

And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.

He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.

He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.

Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”

Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.

You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.

“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.

“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.

The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.

The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.

When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.

In front of you is not a delivery guy.

It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.

And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.

Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.

It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.

At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.

“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.

The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.

And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.

“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.

The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.

“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.

She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.

“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”

Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.

And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?

At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.

“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.

Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.

“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.

Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.

“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”

“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.

Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.

And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.

You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”

“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.

“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.

“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.

Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.

“Who is that, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.

“She’s a friend,” he sighs.

“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.

Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.

His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”

He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.

“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”

And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.

It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.

“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.

Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”

Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”

“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”

Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.

He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.

“I…”

Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.

Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.

“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”

Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.

But the point is made all the same.

“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.

“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”

Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.

“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”

Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.

The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.

He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.

“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”

Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.

“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.

It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.

“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”

Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”

Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”

They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.

“Drive safe, Som-ie.”

~~~

“Yeah… Joofs.”

The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.  

And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?

You had at least expected him to defend you.

To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?

Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.

If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.

So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.

But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.

“Naaa.”

You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.

“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”

Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.

“Buu?” she asks.

In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.

Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.

Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.

It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.

“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.

She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.

“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.

“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”

Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” he says back.

��DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.

You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.

“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”

“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.

“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”

He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.

“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.

You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.

“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.

Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”

Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.

It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.

You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.

He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.

It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.

He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”

You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”

Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.

“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”

You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.

He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?

For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.

Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.

“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.

“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.

You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.

He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.

Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.

It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.  

A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.

“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.

“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.

“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”

His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.

The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”

The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.

“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.

Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”

“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”

The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.

~~~

The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.

But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.

You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.

It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.

He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.

It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.

His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.

The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.

“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.

“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.

Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”

You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”

And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.

Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.

It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.

Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.

“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.

She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.

“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”

You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.

“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.

Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.

It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.

The scene is domestic.

“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.

Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”

“Has she always been a co sleeper?”

Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”

At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.

It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.

You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”

Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.

“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”

~~~

Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.

Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.

When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.

“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”

She blows a bubble up at him.

His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.

“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.

Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.

“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”

“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.

Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.

Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”

“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”

Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”

She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”

Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”

“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”

“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”

“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”

“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”

“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”

“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”

Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.

“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.

“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”

Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.

Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.

“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”

“Is it warm enough?”

“Yes, I think she wants you.”

Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”

“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”

Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”

As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.

“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.

He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.

Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.

“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”

She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”

“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”

The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.

“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”

Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.

“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”

“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”

Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.

“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”

She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”

“That’s not what I’m asking–”

“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”

Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.

It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”

Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”

And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.

~~~

“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.

“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.

“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”

You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.

“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”

“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.

Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”

Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”

“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”

He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.

“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”

“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.

Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.

“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.

And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.

At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”

You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”

His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”

Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”

Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”

You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”

And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”

It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.

But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”

Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.

Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.

His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.

“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.

That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.

“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.

Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”

“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”

His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.

You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.

It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.

“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.

Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.

“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.

“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.

Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”

“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.

“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”

Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.

“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”

You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.

It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”

It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.

Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”

Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–

“It’s not that simple, baby…”

–and it’s over.

“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”

And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.

He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”

“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.

“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.

Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.

“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”

It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?

“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”

He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”

It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.

You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”

“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.

“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”

And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.

Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–

“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.

Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”

And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.

“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.

He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.

“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”

“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.  

When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”

You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.

“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”

“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”

“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.

“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.

“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”

Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”

A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.

“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.

Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”

And think you do.

Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?

Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.

You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.

“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”

When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.

You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.

~~~~

AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻‍♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Just the phatomfive and McMillan with an S/O who likes to hug them a lot ^^ I think they all deserve to be happy

yessss, I think so too!!

also this is the first time I've written McMillan, I hope I did ok! such a lil cutie <3

Oi, that’s just as well by him! There’s nothing wrong at all with getting hugs from someone he really loves. The first couple of times he might flinch a bit because of things from his past, but he gets used to it pretty quickly. After the first three or so times they hug him, he’s hugging back eagerly, giving them a brief squeeze or a longer embrace based on what they seem to want in the moment. He’s very grateful for the reminder that pleasant touches exist, and he just sort of blossoms in regard to touch once his S/O starts hugging him more often. And, well, if he happens to sneak a kiss or two during those hugs…

W-well… if that’s what they want to do, can he really complain…? He doesn’t really mind it, after all. He’s almost touch starved, actually, so he rather likes all the affection they lavish on him. It’s just that because he’s not used to it, one can tell he isn’t used to it. He’s awkward, he blushes a lot when his S/O hugs him, and more than once he’s buried his face in their neck during a hug while muttering that they’re too good to him. Still, he does hug them back! He loves being close to them. It just may take him a bit to truly settle into it all. He’s got a tendency to nuzzle their cheek during hugs, too.

They can’t… they can’t be so close to him in public like that, goodness!! Surely everyone is looking at the two of them, right? It flusters him so badly, as does any gesture of physical affection. If his S/O has been with him for a while and knows him well by this point, they won’t be surprised that it takes him a while to become a more comfortable. The good thing is that he’s much less uptight about it in private, so he’s more likely to return (and indeed, extend) hugs when the two of them are alone. He adores when they want to hug him for a long time… because that’s basically cuddling, and being close to them is a comfort to him. Sometimes during hugs he even lays his head on their chest and falls asleep to their heartbeat.

O-oh, goodness, goodness, aaaaah—! They’re so sweet… so adorable… he can’t take it!! Honestly, he loves it so, so very much. This is the kind of thing that makes him feel happy and wanted, particularly if his S/O likes to hug him for a while rather than just in short bursts. If they’re talking to someone, he feels secure and, for lack of a better term, ‘shown off’ when they have their arm around his waist and let him snuggle in against them. If they’re hugging him, he’s smiling; and indeed, all it takes to cheer him up is a hug from them. It’s as though he’s physically incapable of being sad when his sweetheart is embracing him. He feels so safe, he could live inside their hugs forever…

W-well, if… if that’s what they want to do, he won’t complain! Certainly, he’s of the opinion that there’s no such thing as too many hugs… more from his darling is never a bad thing. He hugs back with perfect readiness every single time, never missing a beat nor passing up an opportunity for hugs from his S/O. (Don’t tell any of his friends, but hugs from his S/O are his favorite kind of hugs.) He’s one of those people who will lightly rub their back during a hug, regardless of whether or not they’re sad/in need of comfort. And he adores it if they play with his hair during a hug. Aah, there aren’t many things which could make these hugs better!

Vaaaaah, yes, he loves it when they hug him!! Although… for them to hug him… they’d have to find a moment where he isn’t the one hugging them! Can they manage to do that? If there’s one thing he likes, it’s hugs. Some of his friends roll their eyes if they see him coming because they know they’ll usually be greeted with a hug. So he’s often the one initiating; and sometimes he gets insecure because he’s worried that trait is kind of annoying. With his S/O, however, someone who likes to give him hugs rather than just reciprocate, that anxiety is nonexistent! He can just hug them and be hugged without any cares in the world. And it goes without saying that he definitely sneaks in as many kisses as he can, too!

[saltymongoose]

Hey Salty! I made a Birb AU for yer SAM:PN

Basically, the Player who's also a bird handler for a wildlife sanctuary happened to get into a situation where the bois turned into Birbs for who knows how long.

They pretty much constantly wear their protective bird gear as to not get clawed in by the bois who constantly try to perch somewhere on Reader, with Hank as the biggest offender.

As for reasons the kind of birbs they are;

Hank's a Harpy Eagle cause of how they're really strong and big, being known as one of the strongest birds of prey on earth.

Sanford and 2BDamned are both owls bc of their canonically similar body builds.

Sanford being a Snowy Owl cause of how they square up and win against many different opponents. Snowy Owls can and will pretty much fight against animals bigger than them.

2BDamned being a Great Horned Owl being similar to Sanford. Stronk bois and their whole vibe of being intelligent and shit. It just fits him really.

Deimos as a Peregrine Falcon cause of him being a quick lil guy yet still dangerously good at his whole killing thing yanno?

Sorry if this doesn't make much sense lol. Not the best at describing things the way I wann'em too

(Harpy Eagles are so hard to draw. Also, sorry if Deimos is a lil too bright. I'll likely try to fix it later)

Omg! This is fantastic, I absolutely love it. <33333 You were spot on with your analysis of which bird they should be, with how Sanford and 2B would be owls because of their similar body builds while Dei is a peregrine falcon because of his speed. Hank being a Harpy Eagle is just such a good idea too, considering their size and how they excel at hunting.

This drawing is also really cute too, especially since you included their masks and other unique details. They're honestly just really adorable, even if their constant attempts to perch on you could get a little annoying. I can definitely tell why the Player had to use special protective gear since I don't think having four large birds of prey on you would be very light haha.

Speaking of the Player, while I'm not sure how the boys would end up as birds, it certainly wouldn't stop their attempts to "cuddle" with you. If anything, it just might make them do it more; it's not like Doc can do any work without hands, and the boys probably aren't effective at their missions like this (unless we're talking recon, cause who'd suspect a bird of spying on them). So now you have to deal with four huge birds attempting to take your attention, usually by perching on your arms and shoulders or barrelling into your lap so you can pet them. I can also see them attempting to impress you by flying and doing some tricks they figure out (mainly Deimos, but Hank definitely isn't opposed to doing the same).

(Although, they probably wouldn't have the best grasp of flying once they're first turned. Watching them crash goes from funny to horrifying real quickly once you realize just how brittle their now-hollow bones are. Luckily for you, they're quite sturdy, but it's not like they're unwilling to play up any injuries they might get just to feel you touching them and have you looking them over for longer.)

Also, I can see them just randomly attacking grunts if you have to go out (to get them food, no doubt) and someone is stupid enough to get in your way. Like imagine just being an agent and trying to capture this target the Auditor apparently needs back, only to be swarmed by four birds; having their talons claw into you as they peck at your visual cross and screech at you. And then having to explain to your supervisor why you're covered in so many bloody scratches and without the "Player."

You'd also probably have to explain to Jebus what happened because I think he'd probably be furious to find you without anybody for protection if he visits one day. He'd understand at the look of the odd birds who hang around you though, but you might have to stop Hank from trying to mess with him once he gets too close to your personal bubble. (And don't even get me started on Tricky; it's hard to kill him as a grunt, but Hank's not above trying even if he's not one anymore.)