#it’d definitely help take my mind off things i guess

[heybaetae]

.

[honeyedmiller]

Ride, Cowgirl | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: smut, dom!reader, (semi) sub!Joel, shy! reader, reader is unsure of themselves for .2 seconds, Joel is sweet and encouraging, some fluff and aftercare, takes place in Jackson, implied unprotected piv, choking, riding, spitting, edging, pussy job, face sitting, no use of y/n. I’m sorry this is literally just pure filth lmaooo hope u enjoy :-) 18+. minors, do not interact.

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: you tell joel one of your fantasies that’d been on the back burner, but he encourages you to bring it to life.

not revised (per usual) so sorry if there’s any mistakes!

It was a cozy fall morning in Jackson. You and Joel lazed in bed on your day off, enjoying each other’s company.

So far, it’d been nothing but stolen kisses and soft whispers of endearment, so, naturally, you had no fucking clue how the conversation got to where it was now.

“No, now y’have to tell me, sweetheart. Swear I won’t laugh.” Joel coaxed, brushing your hair out of your face. You groaned and shrunk into the pillows of the bed, trying to hide your face from your beloved boyfriend.

“No, Joel. It’s stupid anyway.” You argue, shaking your head.

“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad, can it darlin’?”

“Yes. It’s unrealistic.”

“Just tell me.” He’s smiling down at you softly, patiently, waiting for you to tell him what you’ve always fantasized about doing in bed.

“Fine. I’ve always wondered,” You swallow thickly, taking a deep breath. “What it would like to be a dom. Just for a little.”

Joel raised an eyebrow at you, looking at you in shock. Out of all the things he was thinking you’d tell him, it definitely wasn’t that. You were generally a shy person, and quite frankly didn’t seem to have one dom bone in your body. But, you’ve surprised Joel time and time again, so he wouldn’t put it completely past you that you’d had a hankering to try something like this.

“Fuck, it’s stupid, I know.” You start, reprimanding yourself for saying anything in the first place.

“No, it’s not stupid darlin’. Jus’ didn’t expect something like this from you.” Joel cooed, kissing your forehead.

“I know I can be, I guess, more reserved… but I save my true self for you and Ellie.” You reasoned, giving him a shy, lopsided smile.

“I know you do, baby. Is this something you really want to try?” He’s serious now, eyes scanning your face.

Of course you were apprehensive, but if big, bad, mean Joel was going to let you live out this fantasy of yours, you couldn’t dare pass it up.

“Yes,” You squeak. “But I obviously wouldn’t go to the full extent. Just… wanting to be in charge only once.” You shrug. You didn’t mind Joel being the dom all the time. Quite frankly, it was hot, and despite his age (which you couldn’t give two fucks about, because the world fucking ended twenty years ago for fuck’s sake), he kept things real interesting in the bedroom.

If you were to ever say your sex life with Joel Miller was boring, you’d be lying straight through your fucking teeth.

That man was insatiable for his age, and his libido was incredible. He never ceases to amaze you, even ‘til this day.

“Okay,” Joel said softly. “Let’s do it.”

Your eyebrows shot up to the top of your forehead. Was he seriously going to go through with this? I’ve-killed-half-of-Salt-Lake-City Joel, ready to be a submissive to little ‘ol you?

“Are you serious?” The shock in your tone was transparent, sitting up in bed a little to look at him in all seriousness.

“Absolutely. If that’s one of your fantasies, I’ll help you live it. But,” He paused, giving you a stern look. It was half playful, half dead serious. “You tell no one that we’re doing this, okay? I have a reputation to uphold here.”

You snorted at his last comment, rolling your eyes. “Please, Miller, I don’t talk to anyone about our sex life anyways. I like to keep the dirty things we do to ourselves, thank you very much.” The smug smile that curled onto your lips made Joel’s twitch.

“Alright, so, how do you want to do this?” He asks, folding his arms behind his head.

“Wait, you mean we’re doing it now?”

“Why not? Ellie’s at Dina’s for the weekend, so we have allll day baby.” Joel smirked up at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Fuck, um, okay. I don’t know where to start.” Nerves took over you as you were painfully regretting this decision to go through with it.

“Start with telling me some simple ground rules. That usually gets you in the mood.” Joel unravels one arm from behind his head, reaching out to rub your arm gently.

“Right, okay,” You trembled nervously, but you took a deep breath to get your mind into a dominatrix headspace. “First things first,” You stare down at him, lust clouding your vision. “Only speak when spoken to. Don’t touch me unless I give you permission, and you’ll only address me as ma’am. Got it?” You look down at him, trying to hide your nervousness as best as possible.

Joel’s cock stirred at your words, acquiescing with your rules.

“Say it.” Your voice is stern as you get on top of him, straddling his thighs. It took everything in him not to reach up and grab you. You wore nothing but an oversized shirt of his, and the sight of you in it with a daring glint in your eyes drove him absolutely wild.

“Yes ma’am.” He agreed.

“Good. Now take off your boxers.” You instructed, lifting your weight off of him so he could slide them off of his body.

His cock was already leaking pre cum, the tip swollen and begging for attention. The sight nearly made your mouth water, but you had to keep your façade up. He looked up at you, waiting for your next set of instructions.

You moved up on him again so your bare, aching heat was hovering over his erection. You lowered yourself onto him, teasing his length with your slick folds. Your arousal made it easy for you to grind yourself onto him.

He clamped his eyes shut, hissing at the feeling of you teasing him so.

“Mm, feel so fucking good honey. This cock is all mine, you got that?” You peered down at him, and he nodded frantically.

“What did I say about speaking when spoken to?” You snap, even surprising yourself with how promiscuous your tone was coming off as.

“Y-yes ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Good boy.” You smirk, and he groaned at that.

“Quiet.” You warn, moving your hips again to your leisure. Joel’s cock throbbed underneath your aching cunt, and not being able to touch you or speak was driving him fucking wild.

You continued your movements, and you could tell Joel was close when he started to pant really hard. He wasn’t going to cum that easy. Just as he was about to tip over the edge, you lifted your hips, causing him to throatily whine.

“Fuck, darlin–”

“What did I just say about you being quiet?” You snap, leaning forward to wrap one of your hands around his neck. You were careful not to crush his windpipe, but gave the sides of his thick throat some pressure with your small hands.

Never in his life did Joel think being choked would be hot. It really wasn’t something he was fond of, but right now, with you, it was the hottest thing ever. Seeing you go from shy and quiet to choking him and being in complete and utter control made him nearly lose his mind.

“Open your mouth.” You commanded, and he obeyed immediately. You spit into his mouth, moving your hips back down to where your throbbing cunt met his pleading cock. His eyebrows furrowed as he swallowed what you gave him, biting his lip in agony as you started to grind on him again. And, once more, you denied him access to cum.

You knew once Joel went back to being his dominant self, he’d punish you back ten fold, so you had to tread lightly. Desperate whimpers and moans elicited from his throat, and you let go of his neck to look down at him.

“You’re just not getting it, are you?” You scoff, and you move off of him again. This time, you shift your body so your dripping heat is hovering right above his mouth. “Maybe this’ll help shut you up.”

You waste no time in making yourself comfortable on his face, and he immediately reacts. His tongue is ravishing you like a starved man, sucking on your clit with care before licking up and down your slick folds. You start to rock your hips on his face, your clit catching on his nose just right.

Joel had the right mind to tease you this way and deny you of an orgasm too, but he knew you wouldn’t be so forgiving to him since he was the one who encouraged you to carry out this fantasy.

“Touch yourself, honey. But do not cum.” You told him, and he moaned into you. He began to tug at his silky flesh, and he thumbed at the slit on his swollen and neglected head. His tongue was buried deep into you, and the suckling and slurping sounds he made were nothing short of obscene and extremely erotic.

You felt Joel tense again, nearing his release once more. He just prayed to whatever was out there that you’d let him cum this time.

“Wanna cum, honey?” You coo, tangling your fingers in his hair. He nods below you eagerly, continuing to devour you. You were so close to the edge yourself, so you moaned in praise. “Beg for it.”

You lifted your hips to let him speak, and you’d never heard his voice in such disarray, ever.

“P-please ma’am. Please let me cum. Ple-ase.” He was nearly whimpering, voice strained and teetering on the edge of a full whine.

You move your hips back down, and you’re once again on his mouth. He wastes no time in trying to get you over the edge, and when you’re just about there, you give him permission.

“You can cum, my love.” And just like that, both of you unraveled at the same time. Loud moans were to be heard from your bedroom at the agonizing release of both of you.

You shuffled back down Joel’s body so you were straddling his thighs once more. You looked at his slick-covered face, smirking at the sight.

“You did so good, honey.” You kiss him, tasting your arousal on his lips.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He responds, hands twitching to touch you.

“You can touch me, Joel,” You murmur, kissing him again. His hands immediately go to your waist to hold you steady against him before exploring your body slowly. You moaned softly when his hands reached your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “But I’m not done with you yet, cowboy.”

He looks up at you with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was honestly so proud in a sense that you gained so much confidence being in a dominatrix headspace.

“Permission to speak, ma’am?” He asks politely, smiling smugly up at you. You raise your eyebrow at him and nod, listening intently.

“Ride, cowgirl.”

You laughed, your dom façade already breaking. You lined Joel’s surprisingly hard cock up with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your folds a few times before you sunk down on him completely.

You moan at the sensation, him stretching you to fullness something you’ll always find so fucking hot.

“Feel so good, baby.” You encourage, starting to rut your hips back and forth. It wasn’t long before you found a steady rhythm and tossed Joel’s oversized shirt that engulfed your body to the side so he had a clear view of your beautiful body.

Forgetting the no touching rule, he reached out to massage both of your breasts. You almost moaned at the contact, but quickly took both of his wrists into your hands, holding them above his head. You were careful not to move fast, though, because you knew his shoulders were nearly shot.

“No touching.” You smirk as you bounce on him now, groaning when his cock hit that spongey spot in your cunt that made you see stars.

“Mm, fuck, baby, who’s cock is this?” Your words were sickly sweet, dripping like honey as you gazed down at Joel with a ferocious look in your eye.

“Fuck, yours, ma’am. It’s all yours.” He moaned, loving the way your sweet, delicate pussy took him so well every single fucking time. It’s like you were just made for him, and the sensation was truly like no other.

“That’s right. Mine. Don’t you forget it.” You lean down and kiss his neck with fervor, kitten licking the spot you know drives him crazy just once. You felt his cock twitch inside of you, and you knew he was close again. You clamped down on him, riding him with such determination. You wanted to see his face when he unraveled for you; because of you.

“You’re so fucking handsome, you know that?” You start praising him, returning the sweet words he always tosses your way when you two have sex. “So strong. So sweet and loving. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, honey.” You kiss him lovingly, every dom thought and bone in your body dissipating.

You knew it was only a matter of time before you’d say enough was enough. You liked when Joel was in charge. He fucked you so well, and the aftercare was always so tender and loving. He was so gentle, patient and kind with you. You truly loved him with your whole being.

You felt Joel’s hips stutter, breaking you from your thoughts. “It’s okay, my honey. Let go.” You finally said, and it only took him a few more thrusts of hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you coming undone as well.

You kissed him as you both unraveled, swallowing each other’s moans as your movements came to a halt. You slowly get off of him, pulling him into you as you cradled his head against your chest. You kissed his forehead a few times as you ran your fingers through his graying hair.

“I hope I didn’t push it too far.” You whisper, tracing the outline of his jaw with the tip of your index finger. He looked up at you, completely fucked out and more than satisfied.

“You did amazing, baby. That was hot.” He praised, and suddenly, your shyness returned to you full-force. A crimson blush colored your cheeks, and you hid your face into the top of his curls.

“Yeah, well, I prefer it if you’re just the dom from now on.” Your voice is diffident. Joel laughs, leaning up to kiss you lovingly.

“I think that can be arranged, baby.”

-

I think I’m gonna start doing a tag list. Lmk if you wanna be tagged for future works of mine! But until then @cool-iguana as promised I’d tag you <;3 ily

[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'Till you Make it | Part 14

“Eye Spy… with my little eye… something beginning wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiith T”

“Is it tree?”

“God, how do you keep doing that?”

“That’s been your fifth tree in six rounds, Eddie.”

“There’s loads of trees!!”

Steve was driving, he’d taken the driver’s seat of the rental car, Eddie calling shotgun putting his parents in the back seat, which neither really minded as they still had a few things to work out that they’d put on the back burner to allow Steve and Eddie to take those middle seats on the plane.

“Okay my turn, eye spy, with my little eye, something beginning with… T.”

“Is it tree?”

Steve sniggered but shook his head no. “No it’s not tree.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“It’s black.”

“T and black… can I have another hint?”

“You only get two hints are you sure you wanna use it now?” It was actually quite cute how Eddie hesitated, hand lifting to his chin, fingernails caught on his bottom teeth. “Maybe try another guess?”

“T and black…” Eddie looked down, and around himself, there was nothing outside that fit the bill, so it had to be inside the car. “T… and black… it’s definitely black, and begins with T… Teeelevision?”

“Do you see a television?”

“No.”

“No, Eddie, it’s not a television” he clicked his fingers in disappointment, as if it were actually a plausible guess.

“Tuuuuuaardvark.”

“What the hell is a tuaardvark?”

“An aardvark with a Tu at the beginning.” Steve really was trying to focus on the road, but Eddie was so effortlessly funny that it was impossible not to laugh. “Okay gimmie the hint, and make it a juicy one. An I do mean juicy, it needs to rival your—”

“Eddie!”

“Your juicy personality, get thy glorious head and its voluminous hair out of the gutter, baby.” He got a quiet giggle out of Lynda with that one, both parents trying not to get involved. They had things to do, even a getaway had work involved.

“For that alone I’m only going to tell you that there’s a few of them.” But he was going to smile about it, because he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, it was just… to hard to not smile around Eddie. His enjoyment was as infectious as his happiness.

“Awh shit, I always knew I’d be my own undoing. Go on then, put me out of my misery.”

“You sure you don’t want one more guess?”

“Do you think that’d help?”

“I think if you really look you could get it.”

“God you have such confidence in me, where was this support when I was trying to graduate? Okay.” Eddie pulled his long legs up and awkwardly crossed them in his seat, eyes skimming the surrounding area, then dipping down, brows furrowed in thought. A black few things beginning with T… a black few things, beginning with T… Teeee tee-tee-tee-tee-teeeee…teeeeshirt?”

“No, it’s not T-shirt.”

“Shit. Okay, not T-shirt” he reached up his hand and scratched his cheekbone, and out of the corner of his eye— he gasped sharply and yelled, “tattoo!!”

“Ladies and gentlemen of the car, he’s GOT IT!” There was a polite round of applause from the back seat that Eddie turned back to bow to, hands clasped together in victory. “Ooh, we’re almost there, one more round I think, and don’t pick a tree.”

“Okay! Okay lemme think, let me think, leeet me…OOH, eye spy, with my little eye, something beginning with M.”

“It’s mole isn’t it?”

“GodDAMMIT!”

Eddie had no idea what to expect when they started their journey, he had no idea what their end result would look like, he had a vague idea that it’d probably be extravagant, and that maybe he wouldn’t like the look of it purely going off of the Harrington’s house back in Hawkins, that place looked cold.

It looked empty.

What sat nestled at the end of a long woodland driveway, was nothing like the Harrington House.

Sure, it was large, could probably fit a good few families in there with room to spare, but it was styled like a log-cabin, just, bigger. It was all wood undoubtedly farmed from the surrounding areas, natural stone work making up the foundation and the chimney probably mined from the mountains around them, and glass windows.

It looked… huge but still so cosy.

Like the inside would probably smell a little like Christmas and warm every inch of you just by standing in it.

“Okay,” Eddie turned around in his seat to look into the back, and really did try and school his tone into something as respectful as he possibly could manage “not to disrespect your house in Hawkins but why would you live there in that if you have this out here?” Hawkins was a shithole in Eddie’s opinion, it was full of backwards thinking angry church types with vendettas against fun and honestly nothing happened there.

The most exciting thing to happen in Hawkins in the history of ever, was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie’s hair because it looked suspiciously like a nest.

They had no creepy ghost stories, no weird happenings, no strange people unless you count himself and maybe a few of the hellfire kids, maybe his bandmates, but it was boring. He wanted out. The only thing keeping him there was… well… his Uncle.

“It’s not ours” John answered as the car pulled to a stop outside of the slowly opening garage, the eldest Harrington putting his things back into his bag and unclipping the seatbelt. “It’s Steven’s.” And that wide-eyed stare was immediately switched from the elder Harrington’s to the youngest, the sheepishly smiling Steve.

“It belonged to my grandparents, or well… my grandpa. He left it to me in the will, but we’ve been coming here to spend time with them for years this is just… the second year now without either of them here.” They had a maintenance guy, or multiple guys on retainer who’d go in once every two weeks to keep the place clean, but other than that it remained empty. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from placing a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder, expression softening, Steve shook his head though, “sorry, that just set a weird mood, let’s just… get inside and get settled, yeah? I’ll even let you pick our room.”

“Room as in… one room? For the both of us? That’s—that’s uhm” he looked back at the parents “that’s okay with you guys?”

“Sure, again it’s not our house.” And even if it was, both John and Lynda figured Steve would wind up in Eddie’s room anyway “we’d prefer it though if you picked one on the other side of the house to ours.” John opened the car door, catching Eddie’s attention again “we’ve been burned by those old wooden walls before.” And then he was out of the car, followed by Lynda who he helped climb out, leaving both men in the car alone while they made their way to the house.

Steve pulled forwards into the vacant garage, the door to shut behind them, and a light automatically switched on, replacing the darkness of the garage with a warm white light.

“They’re not the only ones who’ve been burned, trust me.” Steve shook his head with an amused smile as he cut the engine. “Is the one room okay, Eddie? It’s not like… crossing any lines with you, is it?” His parents weren’t there, they couldnt hear them, there was no reason to pretend, even if he did want to try and make it as realistic as possible as per Robin’s idea, he had to keep checking in with Eddie to make sure he was okay.

“No! No, no it’s okay… I’ve never… I haven’t really… shared a room with anyone before” only child, and Wayne had given him the only room in the trailer “is it like… a two bed situation or—”

“One bed, Eddie… one room, one bed, there’s only one room in that house with multiple beds in it and it’s full of bunk beds from when I was twelve an all the cousins used to visit around the same time… it might seem a bit weird if we pick that one.” He was going to be spending an entire week… sleeping in the same bed as Steve Harrington, in what was essentially a dream house nestled in the woods.

He was going to get used to it. He was going to get used to it all, and it was going to kill him to leave it all at the end of the week. It was going to destroy him to lose it all.

“Heh… maybe—maybe someday we could bring the kids up, they could stay in the bunk bed room” grin and bear it, maybe it’d all work out if he just… went with the flow. Wishful thinking usually went against the good ol Munson Doctrine, but… everything Steve had been doing since they first started their whacky plan had flown in the face of that stupid doctrine so… maybe deviating from it wouldn’t hurt as bad as it could if he just… went with it.

“I mean… we could force them to use the bunkbeds, an that could be pretty funny”

They probably wouldn’t be as psyched to stay in bunkbeds as they would have been back when they were all tiny, squishy middle schoolers, although it’d probably be easier to get their parents to agree to the trip now they were older.

“Payback for all the shit they’ve thrown at us over the years.”

“It’s like you’re in my brain.”

Part 16

[21-krplnk]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌.

Dick Grayson x Spider-Man Reader

AKA; one of my favorite tropes ever.

CONTAINS !!! masculine reader (only cuz they go by Spider-Man, but I kept gender/pronouns vague), LGBT reader (also kept vague), mentions of stitches, the slightest hint of bisexual Dick, could be translated as a platonic or a pre-slash relationship, and they were roommates.

“Uh… hey.”

Pausing mid-stitch, Dick looked up at his doorway to see you standing there, your hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. There was the slightest worried quirk to your brows, your mouth formed into a thin line, and your eyes constantly glanced down the hall like you were planning an escape route. It didn’t take his natural intuition to tell you were troubled by something. Hell, maybe even anxious.

“Hey,” he softly returned, his suturing needle still motionless in his hand. He made sure he was fully facing you, giving you all of his undivided attention as he added, “what’s up?”

“… I… uh.” You gingerly pulled a hand from your pocket to scratch your neck. “I was wondering if you had some time to… talk?”

Talk? Trying not to show his concern, he gave a reassuring smile and scooted over on his bed. “Yeah, sure, of course.” His gaze was back down on his partly stitched-up arm. “Lemme just finish up real quick. You can come in.”

As he quickly got to work with closing up the wound, he could see from the corner of his eye that you hesitated for a moment. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and the clearer your distress was, the more suspicious he became on what this talk was going to be about. He had a pretty sure guess; relief washed over his conscious just thinking about it. This wasn’t going to be a serious talk. Well, it was, but not in a bad way. Rather, he was at least 99.99% sure it was a seriously good thing. Something to celebrate, even.

You were finally coming out to him.

Admittedly, he’s had his suspicions for a while. He’s known you for a while, enough to trust you with his secret as Nightwing, so he’s picked up on the subtleties you’ve left for him, whether you were aware of it at the time or not. But it was all just speculation until you moved in as his roommate, where he could basically observe you under a microscope 24/7. And when you suddenly became more withdrawn from him, he was vehemently convinced he was right.

Now, despite being pretty sure he’s known before you even knew, he never asked you outright. It’d make him feel terrible if you felt pressured to come out of the closet before you were ready, so he gladly gave you all the time you needed to tell him directly. And of course this didn’t go without dropping subtle hints that he loves you and supports you through all your endeavors.

The bed dipped as you finally sat down on it, just in time for him to tie off his stitch. “So,” he began, trying to keep the knowingness out of his tone, “what did you wanna talk about?”

You didn’t say answer immediately. Rather, you took to staring at his bedroom carpet for a few moments, presumably getting your thoughts organized. “I… need to tell you something.”

Oh, he’s definitely right about this. “Okay…?”

Another moment of silence happened between you two. “… I’ve been keeping this secret for… for a while. And I thought you’d be mad at first, cuz I never told you, cuz I-I was kinda scared, and… well…” you softly shook your head, like you were shaking away an oncoming tangent. “Well, I guess I realized… that… I shouldn’t have been. I shouldn’t have been scared.”

He couldn’t help but put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N)…”

“Promise me things won’t change,” you softly pleaded. It was then you finally looked up at him with an apprehension. “Promise things won’t be… different… between us… please?”

“I promise,” Dick confirmed, voice dripping with pure sincerity and encouragement. “(Y/N), things would never be different between us. Not because of something like this. I care for you. And I always will.”

There were several seconds where you scanned his face, trying to find an inkling of a lie. After realizing he was being serious, you took a deep, shuddery breath. “Dick…”

He then watched as you brought a shaky hand up to the zipper of your jacket.

… Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute.

Before he could even process what you could possibly be doing, you pulled open your now unzipped jacket and turned to face him. All he could do was stare dumbly at your scrunched-up grimace as you finally dropped the bombshell.

“… I’m Spider-Man.”

… Huh?

Slowly, his eyes braved the trip downwards to your chest, only to be met by an all-too infamous spider symbol. Oh… Spider-Man. You’re Spider-Man. This was not the coming-out talk he was expecting. At all. Any coherent thought he previously had was thrown out the window in favor of processing… this. You’ve been Spider-Man this entire time and he had no fucking clue? What the hell? How did he just… not pick up on this? Was this why you became so withdrawn? You felt like you had to hide this secret from him of all people? Your own vigilante roommate?

… Ironically, these were probably the same questions he’d have if you actually were coming out to him… in a world where he didn’t already figure it out, anyway.

“… Oh,” was all he could say. He owlishly blinked at the insignia on your chest before looking back up at you. “Wow. Uh… okay. Holy shit, uh…” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to recompose himself. He had this whole spiel prepared about how he more than happily accepts you for who you are, but it became quite apparent he has to make some adjustments on the fly. “You’re Spider-Man. Cool. I… I had no idea.”

You cracked an eye open, cautiously gaging his reaction. “You’re not… mad?”

“Well, I… can’t say I’m not shocked.” He sent a quick glance at the spider symbol. “I mean… I kinda pride myself on my detective skills, so… I guess I’m a little thrown off for not suspecting anything.” His jaw tightened a bit. “You really went above and beyond to hide this from me.”

“I-I know it’s kinda stupid, but… I mean…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I don’t know, I thought you’d be mad that I didn’t come to you initially after the spider bite.”

He could only stare at you with a blank expression. “A spider bit you?”

“Uh… long story.”

“… Well, then.” He laid back on his bed, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at his ceiling. “Spider-Man’s my roommate. That’s cool. Uh… lotta questions, but I still gotta, y’know, process this.” He turned his attention back on them. “And not because I’m mad or anything. I just… was picturing a whole different conversation when you asked to talk.”

While you seemed to visibly relax at how he was taking this, you also cocked your head to the side in a quizzical matter. “What do you mean?”

“Hope I’m not making any horribly off-base presumptions,” (even though he was certain he was 100% right,) “but I actually thought you finally coming out to me.”

Now it was your turn to be thrown for a loop. After taking in what he said, you turned to face the wall with a simple, “oh” spilling from your mouth. “Guess it was only a matter of time before you figured me out, huh.”

“Hey, I know a thing or two because I’ve seen a thing or two,” he lightly joked.

You looked at him curiously, but didn’t pry, instead shucking off your jacket to fully expose the top half of your suit. “And yet…” you offered him a humored smirk, “you didn’t figure out I was Spider-Man? How does that make sense?”

“I have no frickin’ idea,” he exasperatedly groaned. “So, you mean to say you’ve been sneaking out to do your little spider thing this entire time? Right under my nose?”

“Kinda helps when you sneak out and do your little bat thing,” you countered with a sheepish shrug.

“And speaking of which,” he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, pointer finger jabbing accusingly at you, “we are so patrolling together tomorrow. I wanna see all your neat tricks up close. Got it?”

A warm chuckle bubbles from your chest. “Aye aye, Mr. Nightwing sir.” You even saluted him to sell your tiny quip. “Same time? 6:30?”

“If that works for you, itsy-bitsy.” After giving out his own chuckle, he quirked a brow at you. “But… I gotta know.”

“Yeah?”

“Where do… like… your webs come from?”

[theharddeck]

can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together. 

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries. 

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off. 

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room. 

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables. 

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.” 

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it. 

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you. 

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things. 

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him. 

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out. 

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on. 

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly. 

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door. 

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more. 

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him. 

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly. 

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly. 

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you. 

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all. 

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home. 

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home. 

 When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones. 

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house. 

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room. 

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor. 

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.  

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting. 

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him. 

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’. 

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened. 

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses. 

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more. 

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you. 

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you. 

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes. 

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs. 

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow. 

Jake chuckled against your core. 

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly. 

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse. 

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man. 

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours. 

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice. 

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you. 

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.” 

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you. 

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs. 

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.” 

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter. 

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it. 

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core. 

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you. 

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand. 

“Good,” you whispered. 

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought. 

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss. 

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck. 

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him. 

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store. 

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you. 

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment. 

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly. 

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head. 

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting. 

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes. 

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again. 

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought. 

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot. 

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.  

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip. 

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend. 

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you. 

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind. 

“Green,” you whispered. 

Jake’s eyes closed. 

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him. 

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you. 

This kiss was different. 

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.  

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this. 

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock. 

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm. 

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning. 

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core. 

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward. 

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full. 

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes. 

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp. 

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.  

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled. 

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours. 

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it. 

So, yeah, you were back to need. 

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.” 

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him. 

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.” 

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again. 

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined. 

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did. 

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him. 

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head. 

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you. 

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit. 

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait. 

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it. 

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow. 

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely. 

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together. 

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you. 

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours. 

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—” 

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake. 

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard. 

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop. 

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin. 

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you. 

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you. 

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened. 

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.    

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment. 

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did. 

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly. 

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp. 

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute. 

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit. 

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be. 

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it. 

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. 

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said. 

Your heart stopped. 

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this. 

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t. 

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else. 

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.” 

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that. 

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous. 

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours. 

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.” 

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen. 

This couldn’t be happening. 

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you. 

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream. 

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell. 

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long. 

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them. 

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase. 

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—” 

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened. 

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

//

taglist: @peakyrogers @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @princessofglitterland @mandylove1000 @daggerspare-standingby @blue-aconite @abaker74 @lt-bradshaw @dempy @callsignvalley @princessphilly @aurora-whispers @mxgyver @mlibbydp @bioodforbiood @thedroneranger

[electronix-arts]

i have the urge to ramble so why not ramble about murder drones

i have many fears over episode 8, my biggest one being is that everyone is going to fucking die, and since im now considered the khan guy, why not talk about him (THIS IS SO LONG HOLY FUCKING SHIT)

ok so funnily enough, im prepared if he does drop dead in ep 8. people have teased me going “oh lol what if khan dies in ep 8” but little do you all know ive been prepared since ep 7 dropped, my wife has improved so much he’s bound to be sniped by liam. i’d be upset as hell and act like a wife who lost her husband at sea but i would not be too surprised if he is killed off

before it was confirmed ep 8 is the series finale, i was a s2 believer and i held onto hope that they wouldn’t kill khan because it’d make his character feel worthless. you see this man improve so much to be a better father to uzi and grow a pair to actually do something; to me, him dying would have made all of that useless, the hypothetical season 2 could have grown his character more if he lived, hell, maybe even show flashbacks of him during his ‘kill all humans’ phase. ep 7 shows khan has nowhere to go but up (or go insane, like the ep 8 teaser showed us)

but since season 2 is not real, i have to accept the fact that yeah, khan might die. so instead of being upset over that, why not speculate how he’ll fuckin die even though him being in the teaser looking batshit insane makes me think he’ll be a survivor. look at him. he will live off of pure adrenaline. anyways.

it’d 100% be a sacrifice, his apology for everything he’s done (which i fucking HATE i wanted him to grow more to become more redeemable to others not [death = hooray your sins are mostly forgiven] but i just gotta suck it up for now)

it’d definitely be for uzi or nori, make sense if he sacrificed himself for both of them [“Turns out, I’m not who either of you needed”] buuut i think it’d be more uzi focused. he was the one who raised her for the entirety of her life, actually tried to become better and changed his main focus to her and tried to help whenever he could after that, he would take a hypothetical bullet for her. it could even parallel to pilot when he left her for dead, now he’s the one dying and telling uzi to leave him so she can save herself and the others (it could even reference heartbeat where she thought he actually died, i don’t know how they’d do it, but yeah. i like that scene in heartbeat, i enjoy characters i love oh so much in severe pain.)

while i like this a lot, i would want khan to sacrifice himself for someone else more than his own wife and daughter. shocking, i know. i make my entire personality based off these idiots why wouldn’t i want a doorman family reuni-

n. if khan dies in ep 8, i want him to die sacrificing himself for n. i want n to be in horror at what has happened as khan is slowly dying in front of him, basically giving n his blessing to date uzi even though the entire planet is doomed.

it parallels nori’s disapproval of the relationship, shows that khan’s views on the dds (mainly n) have changed [killing machine -> bad influence on uzi -> someone who genuinely cares for her, someone who she needed] -and i guess nicely ties up the gift that is his redemption arc.

it makes sense for him to give said blessing, he’s seen how close uzi has gotten with n as well I’m pretty sure when he reunites with nori (plsplspls) after they calm down she’s definitely gonna be like “YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER “HANG OUT” WITH THE THINGS YOU SAW KILL ME” so that’d be fresh on his mind when he hypothetically drops dead.

also i’d feel like him sacrificing himself for uzi is like. too perfect or easily guessable, maybe they could hint “oh yeah khan’s def gonna die to save uzi & nori” when haha sike he’s dying to save the future son-in-law (if there is a future)

anyways that’s it. im bad at wrapping up things so here is what i call my conclusion. if you actually read this i love you so much you will be in my will

[hana-no-seiiki]

Idk if this is a request or something but I just wanted to get it out there before I forget it. How would the batfam react to a batsis coming from the last of us universe?( the last of us is a zombie apocalypse type game.) How would they react to all of batsis PTSD from being born in a world over ran by zombie’s and learning to survive at a young age. How would they help them? How would they react if they ever were transported to there(batsis) world?

Sorry for this random ask I just wanted to get this out there before I forget about it. Anyway hope you have a great week!

SOFT YANDERE BATFAM x THE LAST OF US! READER BRAINROT

Recently had a TLOU brainrot (at this point it’s more of a heartrot with how devastating the story is eugh) so this came at a perfect timing. I’m guessing batsib (I’ll make it gn I hope you don’t mind anon) has a similar life to elle if they’re not just elle entirely.

I think Batsib would have to be close to the boys before they eventually spill their guts (aka their severe trauma out).

Like when they’re at least 60% there on the yan scale of things.

They see signs like you being hella adamant on the boys at least trying to fix their relationship with Bruce since you know the most out of everyone how it feels to lose a father figure.

You’re the closest with Jason purely because you both have baggage, and luckily you like to talk about it and sort it out.

Your whole life had been the apocalypse so going to Gotham and seeing everything in its prime fascinated you. When the Batfam first took you in due to your status as an anomaly, it took very little to impress you.

But it also took a lot to terrify you.

If we’re going full on Ellie! Reader here then them (batfam) seeing that huge bite mark on your arms, presumably after you’ve dumped info on your past and your reality, almost turned them feral.

It was that moment they decided to never let you go back.

You’re allowed to join them with their vigilante activities as long as you were under strict surveillance.

Bruce is kind of off-put by your nonchalance when it comes to beating up people to a pulp. He had to jump in and stop you from completely killing a dude.

Jason on the other hand approves. Definitely eggs you on.

The rest of the boys, as is my headcannon with any violent MC, get turned on when they see you covered in blood.

In summary, they definitely cherish you more. The spoiling is dialed up to eleven. And since you didn’t know much of the world prior to its apocalypse state, they wouldn’t lock you up like in most cases and instead bring you to explore as much as you’d like.

There is a sick part of them that enjoys your PTSD and how dependent (and distrusting of others) you can be because of it. So unless it gets really bad where you can’t get sleep at all I can see them just not trying to get help for you.

ON THE MORE WHOLESOME SIDE:

I am now imagining reader going to a museum with them all and just climbing the fossil in front of like dozens of people while screaming “LOOK AT ME I’M ON A MOTHERFUCKING DINOSAURRRR!”

Bruce definitely had to pay a lot for that

and all the younger ones + Dick cause he’s Dick throwing fedora hats on all the dinos??? please im on my knees that’s too cute augh-

If they were ever transported in your world, it’d definitely be the other way around. Say you aren’t like Ellie and are completely susceptible to the infection- oof you might as well just be in jail.

They’ll disinfect everything. Masks 24/7. Generally just extremely careful as to not get infected or infect you in any shape or form.

Tim has already researched on fungal infections so you bet he’s ready. Wouldn’t be surprised if he single-handedly ends the apocalypse with how thorough he was. Him, Dick, and Alfred focus more on taking care of you.

Jason and Damian are more with survival and the annihilation of anything that may be dangerous to you within the vicinity. May it be zombies, thieves, the military and what not.

Bruce is probably tinkering on more equipment and helping Tim with actually getting rid of the fungi. The former will definitely use his charm and looks to get more supplies.

In short, these dudes have everything on lockdown.

You’ll wish you didn’t come back to your original world.

A.N. I hope this was to your liking anon!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Growing Pains

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

This time, two stubborn rebels enter the kitchen! With Epel chasing the greatness of growing up, he gets ensnared in a scheme that Leona responsible is responsible for. Gordon’s definitely got his work cut out for him!! Can he truly connect with this strong-minded duo?

Why does Leona’s chef jacket look like it’s straining to keep his chest contained in like every fan art I see 😭 I'm happy that Epel gets to take Master Chef at the same time as his Magift Club Captain... He gets to hang out with his cool senpai one last time before I smush him into Epelsauce for pointing out L*ona's charm 🤡 (P.S. I totally believe that GR is a role model L*ona could benefit from…)

Imagine this…

Raising a saucer to his lips, Epel sipped, allowing a mildly sweet flavor to flatten across the tongue. Warmed on a low flame, the milk concoction was warm, but still thick and creamy. Nothin' beats full fat milk fresh off the farm, he noted, licking his lips.

Epel let out an excited whoop as he slammed his saucer down. "Hoo-WHEE! That's sum good stuff!!"

A groan sounded from another counter.

"Oi, frosh. Keep it down over there," Leona groused. He fiddled with his hair, sweeping back loose strands that hung free from his ponytail. The rest of his mane--and his lion ears--were uncomfortably crammed under a chef's hat.

"O-Oh, sorry!" Epel hurriedly apologized, giving a brief bow to his club captain. When he straightened again, he couldn't avoid taking note of his upperclassman's strong build.

Though the duo were in similar uniforms, Leona wore his very differently than Epel. He slouched slightly, yet the warm yellow of his jacket fit him like a glove, easily conforming to the shape of his muscled body. By comparison, Epel was smaller and far less shapely. A twinge of sadness pulled in his chest.

Standing the two side-by-side, they were like lion and kitten. One regal and confident, the other meek and weak.

Epel furiously shook his head. He smacked both of his cheeks to wake himself up. Chin up, Epel! Take this chance to learn how you can be more like Leona-senpai...!

He glanced over at the various bowls littering Leona’s workstation.

I wonder what he’s making…? It must be something cool.

The beastman hovered over them, glancing over the contents of each bowl lackadaisically. Plump blueberries, granulated sugar, extract that smelled strongly of vanilla, gelatin powder. And, of course, the star of the show: milk.

Leona grimaced, lifting the white liquid up. Milk sloshed lazily around in its bowl, lapping against his thumb. He took a cursory sniff, but didn’t look impressed.

As Leona was returning the milk back to its place, Epel jumped. "U-Um...!!"

"What, you got something to say?" Leona raised a brow. "Then spit it out."

"Well..." Epel nervously twiddled his thumbs. “That’s heavy cream... It’s rich-tasting and has high fat content, so it’s good for creamy dishes. With the sugar and the fruit, are you making a dessert of some kind? Maybe a milk pudding or something…”

“Hmmmm.”

A slow and catty glint rose to Leona’s eyes. He leaned forward, scrutinizing the humble farmer boy.

“So you’ve got a real knack for this kind of thing.”

“Eh, I guess so? I’m used to helping my family and neighbors back in Harveston with produce quality control. It comes naturally to me.”

“Great. Take care of this for me then.” Leona plunked down the bowl of blueberries in his junior’s hands. Epel blinked—but before he could protest, Leona continued. “You’ve got a real talent. It’d be a waste for you not to show it off to the Chef.”

“I don’t know…” Epel casted a curious look at their mentor, who had been observing them from a quiet corner of the kitchen. Gordon returned the gaze, as if sensing trouble afoot.

“Besides, I’m counting on you too,” Leona added, a hand on Epel’s shoulder.

His heart leapt in anticipation. “You are?!”

“Yeah. Even with my nose, I just don’t have the chops for this line of work. Must be my delicate princely constitution. That’s why I’m putting my faith in you.” Leona suddenly frowned. “Was I wrong to?”

“N-No, Leona-senpai!!” Epel hurriedly insisted. “You can definitely leave it to me! I’ll make sure the ingredients we use are the best we have!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” The lion’s smile was sly. "Okay, knock yourself out. I’m going to be taking a nap. Don’t bother me until you’ve checked everything in the pantry over… twice.”

“Aye-aye, captain!!”

With that, Leona sauntered off with a casual, self-assured swagger. Gordon was wiping his hands off on a clean dish rag when he passed. They silently met each other’s eyes, Leona passing along a triumphant smirk.

The head chef automatically got a bad feeling.

Kingscholar must have said something to him. Right, I’ll get to the bottom of this.

While Leona had pulled out a chair and hunkered down in it, Gordon made his way over to Epel. He was now eagerly inspecting a pile of sugar, seemingly picking through individual granules by sifting them around with a finger.

"What are you doing over here, my darling?" Gordon asked, his tone kept friendly—a voice he reserved for children, not arrogant adults.

“Chef!” Epel proudly saluted. “I’m making sure the ingredients are good to go!”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but why’s he sittin’ this one out?” Gordon jabbed an accusatory thumb in Leona’s direction. (He resembled a grumpy street cat.)

“I’m doing Leona-senpai’s share too!”

“You don’t think he should be responsible for looking over his own ingredients?” Gordon huffed. Or suspect that he’s blowing smoke up your ass?

“But really trusts me to do this for him.” Epel laid a hand on his chest. His expression was positively glowing, his cheeks appled. “He has confidence in my abilities!! And I trust him to guide me. Leona-senpai has never steered me wrong before!”

Gordon instantly recognized the emotion: pure admiration.

“… You look up to him, don’t you?”

“Yup!! He’s the man I wanna be! Smart, cool, brave, tall, muscly…! I’ve been chugging tons of milk in my free time to make sure I’m getting all the vitamins and minerals I need to catch up to him.”

Is that why I saw him trying to shotgun an entire gallon of milk straight from the jug?! Gordon rubbed at his aching temples.

There was a soft grunt that grounded him again.

“… But it’s not enough to just be physically strong," Epel mumbled. "I can’t just drink milk and call it a day. It’s also important to have a strong spirit too, cuz the heart's also a muscle!"

The first year offered a hopeful grin, a hand set on his bicep. “Leona-senpai has that sort of strength. If I want to be able to stand on the same level as him, I have to give it my all when it comes to training!”

A strong body and spirit…

Yet when he looked at Leona, what Gordon saw first was a broken man forsaking his future. A shell of a person. Was he able to be salvaged? To lead?

Gordon reconsidered. His perspective and Epel’s—whose judgment was clouded? Or was neither quite the full truth?

“… Thanks for that. I’m going to speak with him now. You keep up what you’re doing. Best of luck, love.”

The response he received was bright and resolute.

“Yes, Chef!”

“I bet you must think you’re bloody brilliant.”

The accusation was as stiff as cream whipped into peaks. It cut cleanly—but not quite though Leona’s wit.

He snorted, hardly budging from his recline. “The kid's good at assessing the quality of food. Why keep him back from reaching his full potential?”

“So are you. I know a food critic when I see one,” Gordon said sharply. “And don’t give me that ‘I can’t do it’ bull crap. I thought we were over this already.”

Leona’s laughter was like the roiling thunder of an approaching storm. “I work smarter, not harder, herbivore. Are you sure you’re an instructor? It sounds to me like you have some learning to do on your students.”

"I know plenty—and I know you're better than this." Gordon gestured at him.

"Afraid not," Leona purred, the sarcasm coming off of his words in lazy waves.

Rotten to the core. Spoiled from the start. Shattered, unable to be reassembled. A rebel of the savanna, impossible to tame. All the things people whispered about him behind his back and to his face.

His hand instinctively snaked to the scar that threaded his left eye. "... It's just as the rumors say, teach."

Ugly truths. Evil, harm, destruction—that's all he would ever amount to, all that he was capable of.

There’s no hope left for me. No light of another day. No tomorrows.

Leona turned away, forcing an end to the conversation. He had nothing more to say, and didn't expect anything more out of the chef either.

Then came the hands upon his shoulders, the grip like a vice. Gordon grabbed him, thrusting his face close to Leona’s.

"Don't you talk like that,” the chef hissed with a deathly quiet, “not in my kitchen.”

“Yeah? If you’re so pissed, then banish me from your kingdom,” Leona taunted. His breath was hot with anger, but he bore no claws.

Always the outcast, never the king.

“Not in your life.” Gordon released him, a slight shove back into the seat the third year occupied.

“You’ve already made your judgment of me. Why hold back on acting on it?”

With a slight glare, the chef folded his arms and stared down at him. “For one, you’re deliberately being a jackass to get out of the coursework. For another…”

Gordon nodded towards Epel’s station. “… there’s him.”

“Epel? You might as well dedicate your manpower to him. He’ll need it, the little tyke.”

“He thinks you’re someone to aspire to. But here you are, acting like you’re not.” Gordon narrowed his eyes. “You know what I think? I think the least you could do is respect the kid’s efforts by pitching in—and have some respect for yourself while you’re at it. The kid’s looking up to you. You can try to look up to yourself too, or his hopes are for nothing.”

“He chose to follow me. That decision—and its consequences—are on him.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” Gordon growled. “It’s not just him. Your entire dorm—”

“It’s different,” Leona snapped back. “We’re not the same. They’ve got futures ahead of them. They can afford to be hopelessly blinded by its light.”

Unlike me.

The silence that followed was stifling and thick. It was a reduction left too long on the stove, boiled down to concentrated, palpable self-hatred.

Gordon’s mouth was a tight line. Not a frown, not a glower. Just a neutral line.

"... You remind me of myself when I was younger. Full of vinegar and piss," he grunted at last. Gordon slapped a palm against his knee. "Used to dream of being a footballer. Then had an injury so bad it crushed those dreams before I could recognize it.

"I didn't start taking the culinary arts seriously until 19. You're 20 now, Kingscholar. If there was a chance for an arrogant little lug head like me, then there's a chance for you too. It's not too late."

"Then you're an old fool," Leona spat. To try all your life at something, only to be kicked down every time. "No sob story will ever change what we are."

Gordon faced Epel, his back to Leona. "... I've had a lot of successes. I have that success because I've had failures. I've learned from them. Our scars don't have to define us. We can become better than that. Grow from them.”

"What? Am I meant to be won over by those paltry sentiments?"

"You think whatever you damn well like," Gordon retorted. "If you need me, I'll be helping Felmier. Otherwise, waste the rest of your class time for all I care."

Then he was gone.

Leona shifted in his seat. He regarded the chef with an eerie quiet—the same kind of quietness that pervaded a lion stalking its prey. Weighing the options, assessing what he was up against.

An herbivore. Just a simple-minded, stubborn herbivore. He had been talking out of his ass, trying to act as if he knew—as if he understood him.

Annoyance curdled into a blunt anger.

“Our scars don't have to define us.”

Damn it.

“We can become better than that. Grow from them.”

Damn it...!

Leona bared his teeth, his hands curled into fists.

Familiar frustration flooded him. Helplessness, despair. And a bit of a feeling he had long since renounced.

Hope.

“... Tch.” Leona raked a hand through his hair. “Light a fire under my tail, why don’t you?”

Epel was halfway through inspecting the blueberries when one was plucked straight out of the bowl. Leona tossed it into his mouth, spearing the berry on his canines. A sweet tartness flooded his taste buds.

"... It's fine for the panna cotta," he declared languidly.

Epel startled at his senior's sudden appearance. Beside the first year, Gordon held his breath.

"L-Leona-senpai?! But I thought you were going to rest...?"

"Yeah, well. I got tired of that. Figured I might as well find something else to do to pass the time." Leona cocked his head back, his grin self-assured. "... Got room for one more?"

"I'd be happy to welcome you." Gordon stepped back, allowing Leona to claim his rightful place at an open counter. "... Good to have you back with your head in the game, Kingscholar."

"Hmph. Don't get used to it." He picked up a tool laid out on the table—an ice-cream scooper—and twirled it between dextrous fingers. “I’m a precocious child, so I’ll need an instructor that can keep me engaged.”

“You’re acting cocky for someone who was refusing to play ball a while ago.” Gordon groaned. “… Fine then. You’re on. Just for that, I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Excuse me, Chef!” The protest came from Epel, who had abandoned the blueberries. “Please go hard on me too!! I can handle it!!”

Leona snorted. “You sure about that, squirt? You never know how mean the big, scary teacher might be.”

“Yes! I want to work together with you, Leona-senpai! Then I can become as strong as you are.”

As strong as I am… Something in his chest sank. Was he truly?

Leona dispelled the doubt with a sigh. Aaah, how annoying. He’s looking at me with those big, sparkling eyes. Why are kids like this?

So fixated on the future and the people who would lead them to it.

He softened.

"... Yeah, sure. Let's just get this over with. The sooner, the better."

Gordon nodded approvingly.

Until the day where I can comfortably stand where you are… wait for me. I’ll meet you there.

[light-end-dragon]

2023 Halloween Card Story-Cain

Here is Cain's Halloween 2023 card story, "Taken by those Hands" fully translated. yeah, i don't have anything to say to that. At least I can now add Figaro to list of North wizards who have been really Weird about Cain.

Part 1:

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

Akira: Aaaah……How warm. The water’s so invigorating…..

Akira: It’d probably feel better if I could get in all the way….

Cain: Oh, hey Master Sage. Mind if I sit next to ya? 

I’d been enjoying the footbath in the village springs all night, when Cain came along to visit.

 

Akira: Of course, Cain! The water temperature is perfect. 

Cain: Ahaha! I can tell just by lookin’ at your face. You look like a cat that found a warm spot in the sun. 

Akira: D-do I really look like that? I mean, we have a place that resembles this in my world, so it is actually very cozy….

Cain: Oh, you have something like this in your world? 

Akira: Yes! It’s a bit like this fountain here to heat your feet at, and nearby there would be a sort of parlor that gives massages. 

Cain: You said a massage parlor; like doing the whole rubbing on your shoulders thing? 

Akira: Yes, they do that too. And after that they can do something where they press on certain points on your hands and feet. 

Cain: Points? 

Akira: That-that’s what it seems like, yes….Um, it’s like, if you press on a certain place firmly, it actually feels nice. 

Akira: Like, for example, around here….

I spread out the palm of my own hand, and with my thumb and index finger, pressed forcefully down at the base. 

Akira: You press down like this with a little force, and it helps you relax. 

Cain: Huh, interesting. Lemme try to copy that. Here? 

Akira: Uh, no, a little higher actually..

Cain: Here, then? 

Akira: Uh, well ... .Rather than trying to explain it, it might be easier to understand if it’s put into practice…

Akira: Just a moment, sorry….

Taking Cain’s hands, I try to press down on the point I’d mentioned. When I did that, he closed his eyes, as if he was searching for a sensation. 

Cain: It’s hard to understand with my feet all warm, but I guess..I think it feels a little nice? 

Cain: But how is pressing there supposed to feel good? 

Akira: Um, I don’t really understand the details of it either….

Akira: I only know that somehow, if you press on a spot like that, it can end up feeling nice. 

Cain: Oh….

After our hands separated, Cain then tried one more time with his own.

Cain: Well, if you only have to press that hard, it doesn’t take that much effort. I can see how you’d sometimes try it out. 

Cain: Only, I think I’d get used to it if I just did it to myself. When you did it, it definitely had more of a feel to it. 

Akira: I get what you mean! They always say that a person having a massage done for them is way more effective. 

???: Well if that’s the case, how about I help out? 

Part 2:

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

Akira: Figaro! 

Figaro: Well, dunno if its the same thing that our Master Sage was talking about, but I do know of a couple places where you might get such effects. Not for your hands though, only your feet. 

Cain: Oh, really? So even your feet can have places that can help you relax. Hey, if it’s cool with you, you mind teaching me?  

Figaro: Of course! Come on out of the spring then, and sit over here.

  Cain got up, wiped off his feet, and then sat down in the rocky area nearby. I too got up and sat down next to them, wanting to watch what they were doing. 

Figaro: Well, let’s get to it. 

Right after saying that, Figaro takes Cain’s foot in his hands, and presses his thumb into the arch forcefully.

Akira: (Oh, it is a pressure point-like I thought!)

Figaro: You feel anything? Pain, or something nice? 

Cain: Um…..it doesn’t feel like either…? 

Cain: I only feel you pressing your finger there. 

Figaro: Huh? But most people would be in terrible pain after I did that. 

Akira: Well, maybe it wouldn’t for Cain? 

Akira: I’ve heard that if you do press on a spot like that and it either hurts or feels really nice, your body isn’t in the greatest condition. 

Figaro: Well, young people are a healthy bunch, aren’t they? Then let me try around here on your foot next….

Cain: Uwaah!!!

Figaro: Oh, you feel something? 

Cain:  Ah, I..aahhh….It’s painful, but it also feels kinda nice…? 

Figaro: Ah, now I get it. That place just now-if you press on it while you’re fasting, it really hurts a ton. 

Figaro: That is to say, you’re hungry right now. Am I right?

Cain: Wow, right on the spot! That’s pretty amazing you can tell that just by pressing on my foot like that. 

Akira: That’s the first time I’ve heard of something like that. That’s very impressive of you, Doctor! 

Figaro: Yup-yup. I’m such an excellent physician from the South, aren’t I? 

Figaro: ….Heh. Hehehe……

Akira: …..Figaro. Um, why did you just turn away and start laughing so hard? 

Figaro: Haha, sorry, sorry. I just made a wild guess. Not only was I somehow right, but you both so innocently believed me. 

Cain: It was just a shot in the dark….? 

Figaro: That right there is simply an easy place to get stiff muscles. The more a person moves around, the more likely it is to happen, so I’d think it’d have an effect even on Cain, right? 

Figaro: You know, these villagers actually have something like this technique you’re talking about. Leno and I both had it done a little while ago. 

Figaro: It seems a bit different than what you’re used to, but it still feels pretty nice. If you’re that curious, you should go ask them. 

Akira: Oh, so it is kind of like a spa! Thank you so much for telling me about this. 

Figaro: Well then. Since I took the trouble to do this, maybe I should go try it out on some of the others. 

Cain: Oh-I kinda want to see what reaction they’d have. Actually, Snow and White are right on the other side here. 

Figaro: Ah, um…that so? Well, I guess I’ll take the long way around then. 

Akira: (Not surprised he doesn’t want to do it to his teachers….) 

Figaro: Bye-bye, you two!! 

Cain: Oh, see ya! 

Part 3:

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

And after Figaro left, we then both tried pushing at that spot on the soles of our feet like he’d taught us. 

Cain: Uhh…..Yeah, that didn’t end up having a nice painful feeling either. What about you, Master Sage? 

Akira: Not me…I think if I do it to myself, I end up unconsciously avoiding anything that might hurt. 

Cain: Then lemme try it. As a test of sorts. 

Akira: Oh, would you mind? Thank you. 

Cain: So, I’ll try the spot Figaro did the first time. That’s….um, here?

  The pad of Cain’s thumb found the spot, and suddenly, he pushed down on it with all his might. 

The instant he did, it felt like a shock of lightning went through me and unintentionally, I yelped. 

Akira: Ah-! 

Cain: Huh?? Oh, I’m sorry-did I do it too strong? Or maybe I hit the wrong spot? 

Akira: N-no, that was it! Just…I’ve heard the more skilled a person is at pushing at these points, the more you’ll cry out from pain…

Akira: And that the more a person neglects their health, the more it will hurt when you do that. I might just be unhealthy….

Akira: (Is it my posture while I’m writing in the Sage’s Journal…or staying up all night….or all the snacks I eat between meals…..I should really pay more attention to that…..) 

As I hang my head in shame from all the bad habits I’m recalling, Cain thumps me on my shoulders. 

Cain: Hey, look, maybe we can make use of all this. Figaro said there was a guy who knew how to do the whole getting rid of stiffness thing; why don’t we go ask the other villagers about it? 

Akira: Oh that’s a good idea. I was just thinking back on how badly I’ve been taking care of myself so, I would like to, if it’s okay…

Cain: Alright then! It’s been arranged. Then, Master Sage…

Cain, smiling as bright as the sun, held his hand out towards me.

  Akira: (Oh, is he going to escort me back to the village?) 

As I was wondering this, I took the hand he had offered. But. right as I did that, I felt his finger suddenly press down forcefully on my palm.

 

Cain: Aha! A gap in your defenses! 

Akira: Oww! Cain, that hurt! Don’t play a prank on me like that…..

Cain: Ahaha, my bad, my bad. It was the quickest way I could think of to cheer you up again. 

Cain: Recently there’s been inspections by His Highness Vincent, and I’ve ended up real tired from that. It’s pretty unavoidable to be in bad shape when stuff like that happens. 

Cain: So instead of mopin’ about it, you should think about it like you’re rewarding your body after it’s worked so hard. So let’s go and get a massage. 

After he said that, Cain gave another bright, contagious smile that soon had me grinning too. 

Akira: You’re right…thinking about it like you’re rewarding yourself definitely makes it easier to relax. 

Cain: That’s the spirit! Okay, I’m done foolin’ around. Master Sage, if you’ll allow me. 

I take the hand he proffers, and it wraps firmly around my own.

  Cain: And please, Master Sage, whenever you find yourself troubled or in pain- ask of me whatever you need, and I shall be there for you.

  ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Carla Maniac [05]

ー The scene starts in the inner courtyard of Banmaden

Male Ghoul A: Hah!

*Cling* 

Male Ghoul B: Yah!

*Cling* 

Shin: Clench your sides more!

Male Ghoul C: Tah!

*CLING*

Shin: You have to lower the sword a bit quicker at an acute angle!

*Cling cling* 

Carla: ...Heh. Seems like he is making smooth progress.

Yui: You’re right. Everyone’s trying their very hardest after all.

Shin-kun’s a very strict teacher, but his instructions are very precise. 

Carla: Yes. Exactly.

Yui: ( Carla-san seems satisfied... )

( Seems like the male Ghouls are steadily getting better from trying their hardest to keep up with Shin-kun’s lessons. )

Shin: Okay, that’s enough! We’re gonna take a short break!

Carla: Good work. I can tell you are all trying your best. 

Male Ghoul A: King! You’ve come to watch us!

Male Ghoul B: I guess you could say we’ve gotten used to wielding a sword by now, but we’ve been making steady progress!

Carla: Yes, you’re right. I could definitely tell from watching.

Male Ghoul C: Please come and watch our military drill as well! I shall definitely show you my best performance!

Male Ghoul B: What are you saying? I won’t lose either!

Carla: Haha. Sounds very promising. 

Yui: ( All of them respect Carla-san as a King... )

( I feel as if the solidarity between the Ghouls has grown stronger as well, with Carla-san playing a central part in this. )

( A King’s influence is truly impressive... )

( Shin-kun is trying his hardest as well. By teaching everyone how to use a sword, for example. )

( But I...There isn’t anything in particular I can do. )

( I’m simply here... )

Carla: Yui. What’s the matter? 

Yui: Y-Yes? 

Carla: You seemed to be deeply lost in thought. Do you have something on your mind? 

Selection

→ It’s nothing

Yui: No, it’s nothing.

Carla: You are a bad liar, per usual. If it is truly nothing, then at least make sure your expression says the same.

Yui: ...

Carla: ーー Is it something you do not want to share with me?

Yui: Yes...

( It’s so pathetic of me...I don’t want to tell him... )

Carla: I suppose it cannot be helped them. I shall respect your decision. 

Yui: ...

( Even though I said myself that I can’t speak on the matter, I wonder why I feel kind of sad by his reaction...? )

→ About myself (❦)

Yui: I...was thinking about myself. 

Carla: Hooh?

Yui: But...I can’t quite say what exactly I was thinking. It’s not exactly a fun story after all. 

If I’m going to talk to you, I’d rather have it be something a little more uplifting. 

Carla: ...While I am glad that you are trying to be considerate of me.

Do take it all on yourself. ーー Okay? 

Yui: Yes...

( Carla-san ended up having to look out for me instead... )

( But I feel a little relieved after hearing him say thatーー )

*SCENE SHIFT*

Kino: ...

ー Kino watches them from afar

Kino: ( That King, he seems to have his charismatic nature going for him at least. )

( Ahー God. That side of him seriously pisses me off. But oh well, I just have to endure it for now. )

ー Kino walks up to them

Kino: Hey, Hey, Carla! You’ve seen how much my Ghouls have grown, haven’t you? Aren’t they amazing? 

Carla: Yes. They are impressive. 

Kino: I think they might be able to perform as first-rate soldiers very soon! I’m proud of them as well.

Carla: Exactly. Because you kept them well together as a group, they are in perfect unison with each other. That has been a great help to me.

Kino: Hehe. You think soー?

( He doesn’t actually mean that, does he? )

( I bet he doesn’t feel grateful at all. )

( I just hope I can find an opening to take advantage of. )

( ...Right. Now that I’m here at Banmaden, it’d be stupid not to make use of it. )

Anyway, I’ve got some minor business to take care of, so I’m counting on you to look after the guys, okay?

Carla: Yes.

ー Kino leaves

Kino: Oh? Yuuri.

Yuuri: Kino, where are you going?

Kino: Fufu. Gonna do a little research on the King.

I feel like things will turn out badly if we don’t make our move soon. I can’t have us biting the dust. 

Yuuri: Kino, about that. Are you sure that they are trying to get rid of us? 

Kino: Hm? Why are you asking that now?

Yuuri: ...From what I can tell from watching him from closeby, he does not seem like that type of man at all. 

So perhaps...It is all just a misunderstanding? 

Kino: Excuse me? Are you doubting my words?

Yuuri: No, that’s not what I meant...

Kino: Listen, the scariest people are those who are incredibly skilled at hiding their true intentions. 

They’re naturals at deceiving everyone around them, you see. I believe you shouldn’t forget that?

Yuuri: ...

Kino: Just you watch. I’ll unravel his true intentions. 

ー The scene shifts to the storage room

Kino: Hmー So this is the storage room, huh...?

ー Kino walks around

Kino: Heeh. Seems like there’s some pretty old records here. 

( I hope I can find some sort of clue... )

*TIMESKIP*

Kino: ...Huh? This looks like a notebook...

*Flip* 

Kino: ( ...It’s the memoirs of a Founder. It seems pretty old though. )

*Flip* 

Kino: ...I see. So the disease which only Founders can contract is called ‘Endzeit’. 

A terminal illness, huh? 

Sudden fainting, coughing up blood, bruises which appear all across the body...

Huh...? I feel as if I’ve seen these symptoms before? ーー Ah!

( Right. That person I met as a child... )

Monologue

When I was still a small child,

I met a Demon boy,

at Rotigenberg. 

He had bruises across his whole body,

and at times he would violently cough up blood. 

Since he had such a severe illness,

I figured that he had little time left. 

But after I took him home and started looking after him,

his condition improved steadily,

to the point where he had almost fully recovered. 

However, that boy,

suddenly vanished one day.

Not only was he a Demon,

but he seemed to have recovered from his illness as well,

so I simply figured,

that he had gone back home. 

However a few days later while I was outside playing with Yuuri,

we found a corpse which had dissolved into the soil. 

ーー Which belonged to that boy.

Kino: ( It’s a perfect match with the symptoms of Endzeit. )

( So that boy was a Founder? Then he could have been one of Carla and Shin’s acquantances ーー No, perhaps even family. )

...! The pendant!

( I should still have the pendant that boy gave me as a gift back then to thank me for taking care of him while he was sick. )

ー The scene shifts to the guest room

Kino: Hey, Yuuri!

Yuuri: ...What’s the matter all of a sudden?

Kino: Where is that pendant!? You know, the one I got in the past for looking after that sick Demon boy!

Yuuri: Pendant...? ーー Right.

One of the Ghouls boys seemed interested in it, so I gave it to him. 

Kino: Haah? Why are you handing out my belongings without my permission!? 

Yuuri: But you never used it yourself and just let it collect dust. 

Kino: Ugh...Whatever. Who did you give it to? 

Yuuri: You know, the young man who stabbed Carla-san the other day. That one.

Kino: Excuse me...?

Monologue

The Ghoul men’s training continued every day,

as they continued to progressively hone their siills. 

Carla-san’s plan to use them as soldiers,

came closer to becoming reality with each passing day.

Carla-san’s popularity as the Founder King grew stronger as well,

to the point where it felt as if,

the Ghouls now properly regarded him as their very own King. 

Carla-san gaining prestige (信望), 

while Shin-kun supports him with the practical side of things.

However, I am not doing anything at all,

as I began to question my reason for being here (存在意識) ーー 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[twilightmalachite]

Love Letter - Mirror mirror 5

Author: Umeda Chitose

Characters: Yuuta, Rinne, Niki, Hinata

Translator: Mika Enstars

Proofer: Kirin

"Ughh, I never want you to call me a chuunibyou ever again…!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Staff Dining Hall

Rinne: Hey, hey, who are ya callin’ cursed?

Yuuta: I said the worst, not cursed… No, both of those apply to you, don’t they, Rinne-senpai?

Rinne: So I’m a man who carries the burden of being the worst and being cursed? What is this, didja catch a case of chuunibyou, Yuta?

Yuuta: Ughh, I never want you to call me a chuunibyou ever again…!

Niki: Now just hold on, Rinne-kun! The employee canteen is a place for eating, so I’d like it if you quieted down.

Rinne: How come there's nothin’ in your hands, Niki? Where's my food?

Niki: How am I gonna serve you anything if you don’t place an order for it. Please use HoldHands and order properly.

Rinne: But I wanna eat your yummy food for free! C'mon, quit your grumblin’ and get on cookin’…☆

Yuuta: Rinne-senpai, how are you not embarrassed extorting food from someone?

You'll spend money on gambling, but spending L$ for a meal is too much for you?

Niki: Ooh, razor-sharp argument there…! You're super right though, the only things I can provide Rinne-kun here are water and seasonings.

Yuuta: Here, help yourself to some seasoning if you want. We have cayenne pepper, tabasco, and death sauce you can eat, or I guess, lick?

Rinne: What kinda infernal line-up is this… Actually, what’re ya doin’ eating even more spicy food, Yuta?

Those rice crackers from earlier were fine, but now even the smell of spice is so strong it’s makin’ my own mouth sting…

Yuuta: Hehe, if you really don't wanna order through HoldHands, you’re welcome to take a bite from my plate, y’know! ♪

Rinne: Naw, hold on… Didja just add death sauce on that before offerin’ it to me?!

Yuuta: Ehehe, oops, you saw that?

Rinne: Hey, Yuta? You know that hurting yourself with spicy food is usually a way to cope with stress, right?

Right now, you’re tryna overload and erase your own pain and stress by overwhelmin’ your senses with spice and more pain, y’know.

Yuuta: Please don’t doubt my love for spicy food. Extra spicy food is my favorite, and that’s all it is. It has nothing to do with my stress—

Niki: Oh! Is the thing you told me ‘bout earlier what’s stressing ya out, Yuuta-kun?

Yuuta: (Shiina-senpai, no one asked…!)

Rinne: Talkin’ ‘bout what earlier…?

Niki: Some argument over 2wink's unit plans, I think. Somethin’ like that, right, Yuuta-kun?

Yuuta: (You're telling him about it, too!? I know you don’t mean any bad of it, so I can’t really get mad at you though…!)

…Yeah. Well, a bit. There’s all sorts of things.

Rinne: Gyahaha! ☆ Ya can't just keep sayin’ “all sorts” like that! ♪ Ya keep tryin’ to play it off, but your face is sooo sour!

Yuuta: ……

Rinne: See, what a great face! I’ve gotten invested in this sibling quarrel of yours. So if ya need any help, I don’t mind helpin’ ya out, ‘kay? ♪

Yuuta: You say that, but you’re just here to use us as entertainment, Rinne-senpai.

The last thing I want to do is accept your help… I mean, who knows what you’ll do, or want me to do.

Niki: That’s right, Yuuta-kun! It’s better to not listen to what Rinne-kun says!

Yuuta: (…Ahh, but… If I do let Rinne-senpai help, I wonder if it’d surprise Aniki. I wonder if he’d get worried about me…)

(Eventually going, “Yuuta-kuns become a bad kid!”, or something. I wonder if he’d be at a loss, or even feel regret…)

(When I said those harsh things to Aniki earlier, he just went silent without a word. He didn’t even talk back.)

(You know why? It’s definitely because Aniki gave up! So he swallowed his words!)

(I wish he would just… Talk back to me without holding himself back! What do I have to do to make that happen?)

Yuuta: ……

Rinne: …Niki, look! I think he’s considering it!

Niki: Come on now, he seems to be seriously pondering over it, so what are you doing making a joke of it?

Yuuta: (…Hey Aniki, you know what I should have told you? If you’re going to keep on sacrificing yourself for my sake, then…)

…*exhales*

Rinne: Ya sure took your time, Yuta. Your food’s probably cooled all the way down by now, huh?

Yuuta: Who do you think's the one making me waste my time? If you want to pay me back, then lend me a hand.

Rinne: Oh?

Yuuta: To be honest, I don't feel good about it. But, I thought it’d be the most effective way to get things done.

I’ll take it, your hand.

Rinne: …♪

Location: Break Room

Meanwhile, in the break room…

Hinata: Ha… Haaaah~….

(What am I even doing…! Didn’t I see Yuuta-kun’s face at the end there?! That's definitely going to haunt my dreams tonight~!)

(Still though, I’d be happy to get to see Yuuta-kun in my dreams… No, nevermind that. What I need to do now is use this time to figure out what exactly I did wrong.)

(I need to cool my head too, not just Yuuta-kun. I need to calm down, and figure out what I should’ve done instead for Yuuta-kun.)

(…Wait, hold on… How come I get the feeling that there isn’t even anything I could’ve done in the first place?

(Hey, Yuuta-kun… What should I do for us to be able to have fun, together?)

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

[deus-ex-mona]

LIPxLIP and the Filming of the New Year’s Special Programme: Chapter 6

the host definitely shipxships it

previous part (chapter 5)

next part (chapter 7)

Aizo: (Some of the stuff we had to find were rather ridiculous, but… we’re finally at the final item, huh.)

Just as the faintest sight of the final checkpoint came into view, Aizo turned around to look behind him.

Aizo: (Huh…? Yujiro’s gone. He’s been following me pretty closely for the entire time, though.)

Aizo stopped in place and looked back towards the way he came for a moment. Eventually, the distant figure of Yujiro emerged from far down the path.

Aizo: (Well… His physical capabilities are lower than mine to begin with, and he’s wearing a hakama, and there’s a camera filming us the entire time. It’s no wonder he’s lagging behind, I guess.)

Aizo: (He’ll have to run up a slight incline in the path… around here…)

Aizo: (Ah…? Wait, no, isn’t he running kinda weirdly?)

Aizo: Sorry guys! I’ll be right back!

Having spoken those words to the camera, Aizo headed back down the path. When he regrouped with Yujiro, however, the latter heaved a sigh of annoyance.

Yujiro: Hey, are you even taking this race seriously?

Aizo: Now’s not the time for that. Lemme see.

Aizo crouched down by Yujiro’s feet. As he had expected, there were blisters on Yujiro’s feet, which had been caused by his sandals.

Aizo: You’re bleeding. Aren’t you supposed to be used to wearing sandals like these?

Yujiro: Shut it. The size of the sandals that the programme staff had prepared for me was just a little off.

Yujiro: I figured that it’d be fine if the most we did was light exercises. Though I never expected them to make us go on a long-distance run.

Aizo: Why didn’t you say something sooner? …Hey, staff!

The staff members, whom Aizo had called out to, helped Yujiro to patch up his feet. In addition to that, they gave Yujiro another set of shoes to change into, and they were able to resume the race.

Host: Hmm, our staff sure dropped the ball on this one, didn’t they? I’m so sorry, Yujiro!

Host: To all you viewers out there, I’d like to apologise… for worrying you.

Host: Though, Aizo was the very first one to notice that something was off with Yujiro… I guess they really are two halves of a whole, after all.

Such were the words that the host had spoken from the studio, while Aizo and Yujiro took a short break with the camera turned off.

Host: At this rate, don’t tell me… They’ll even reach the goal together in an unprecedented occurrence on this show?! 

Yujiro & Aizo: …

Aizo: …I don’t approve of jokes like that, not even by a single bit.

Yujiro: That’s my line.

Aizo: Y’know, you’re the one who started it all back at the first checkpoint by giving me that weird advice.

Aizo: So to say that we don’t care for each other would be—

Yujiro: What are you going on about? Had I not given you that hint, you’d still be struggling at the first checkpoint at this very moment.

Aizo: Ugh… That’s low…!

Aizo: (He really isn’t cute~!)

Staff: Hey LIPxLIP! We’re about to resume the filming!

Yujiro & Aizo: Got it!

Aizo: In any case, we should make it our priority to end the stream on an exciting note.

Aizo: There’s no way you’re gonna retire, hm?

Yujiro: Of course I won’t. …Don’t patronise me.

They quickly got into position to resume the rest of the run.

Aizo: (The host said that thing about us reaching the goal at the same time earlier, but… there’s no way that that’s gonna happen, right…?)

Aizo: (No way… But that would make things more exciting, right…? Nah, nope… of course they won’t…)

Such thoughts coursed through Aizo’s mind as he ran towards his destination, namely the piece of paper with the final item written on it. Shortly after Aizo arrived at the checkpoint, Yujiro reached it as well. 

Yujiro: …Hurry up and pick one. You got here first.

Aizo: I’ll do it, even if you didn’t tell me to.

Host: Whether tears will be shed, or smiles will be shared, we’re finally at the last spurt! What’ll happen to the race between the two of LIPxLIP…?

Aizo unfolded the paper as the broadcasted audio from the studio drifted into his ears.

Aizo: (And the item I’ll have to get this time is… Eh?!)

[9rophet]

Stressing for a Blessing

I don’t know the right way to start this, because what I’m about to write is just a culmination of thoughts I’ve had recently. I feel as a black man there’s so much that worries & stresses us more than the average non-black human. Granted, our sisters can relate & our brothers of different ethnic groups in second & third-world countries have a valid right to argue that what they experience is just as bad, if not worse, but I won’t get anywhere if I sat here and compared certain minorities different struggles. I guess what I’m trying to say is that there is so much out there in the world that wants to affect our health, well-being, and to put it plainly, seeks to kill us physically, spiritually, and mentally. A lot of things in life are weaponized & used against us.

[I’m just speaking from my experience & an outsider may disagree, but I know there is truth in what I write.]

I’m doing my best to protect my mind, body, and spirit, but lately I’ve been discouraged because with every monthly visit to the doctor I’m reminded that I have certain conditions that are indicators that I’m not in my peak as far as my mental & physical health goes. I can sit here and list the causes such as societal pressures, punishments, financial hardship, and my turbulent upbringing. I can list those causes, but I’m writing this to come to some sort of solution for them. I often feel other people need reasons to care for you rather than just genuinely caring. If you stay silent in your suffering then nobody is alerted or feels obligated to frankly give a fuck about what you have going on. Which is sad, but the majority of the world is selfish.

I often think there is nothing wrong with selfishness because I truly believe you must take care of yourself before taking care of someone else. Especially in order to care for someone else properly and without bitterness. I guess I just hate that within certain people’s selfishness is the act of being inconsiderate or ignorant in the true definition of ignoring situations and losing awareness. To go back to my earlier point, I’m afraid of dying young, but it often seems like it’d be unavoidable in my current circumstance. I’m mentally ill, I’m physically unfit, and I have anxieties that are often crippling. So what exactly are the solutions? I guess you could say medication (which almost always has side effects), exercise (which requires discipline, dedication, and commitment to a routine), and balls of steel (confidence & a carefree attitude which you can’t gain overnight). Those solutions are a start in the right direction, it would just take practice and a mindset of someone who doesn’t quit no matter how many times they’re knocked down from discouragement & distracted by a world that’s built for them to fail. I genuinely want better. I just have to constantly remind myself why that is. I want to be somebody that has something to offer to those I love, those I trust, and those that love & trust me. It’s a cliché, but I know if I forget that, I’d feel as though I’m better off dead.

At this moment, I’m just stressed out & don’t want to ask for so much help that I become a liability or burden on somebody else. I want to hold on to any ounce of dignity I have left. I also want to be in a position where if I do ask for help I’ll have something to offer to where it’s an even exchange so that the other party doesn’t build resentment. I have enough enemies as there is & would like to have less. & Honestly, fuck ‘em. What good reason do they have to be against me? I digress.

Great things are bound to happen, it’s just a matter of living long enough to see those moments, and maintaining them. For now I’ll do as the elders say & simply count my blessings.

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Chapter Nineteen: Scarborough Fair Pt. 3

With a foolhardy grin on his face, Greed made his way back into the cabin bag in hand as he barged in to see an angry Edward, a concerned Alphonse, and a very flustered Lust. The plan discussion had clearly not gone as it was intended to as Edward got up and made his way out the door to take a breather with Alphonse following closely behind. Greed remained silent as he let the Elric brothers have some time to themselves as he glanced over to Lust who was collecting herself once more. Carefully, Greed let himself back into the cabin and placed the massive bag of red stones as well as the ransom letter in front of Lust. Lust, having had a hard time with the Elrics, lightened up a little bit upon seeing that her need for red stones had been successfully met by Greed. As she went to check on the red stones, the ransom letter came into view as well, Lust not really thrilled that it came with a letter. There was a silent pause between Greed and Lust as she carefully opened up the letter to read the damned thing over before breaking out into a laughing fit over it. 

 “Is Dante kidding me right now? Really? After all the lies she fed us about making us human, she has the nerve to lie about freeing Envy after trading Dolly off to her with Timmy. She truly has a rotted brain problem.” Lust started to catch her breath after reading such a ridiculous letter with an equally ridiculous set of demands. “I know, right? Even Sloth was getting pissed when I saw her at the tavern.” Greed couldn’t help but agree after reading the contents of the letter with Lust. “You saw Sloth here?” Lust’s voice shifted from a tone of humor to one of concern upon learning Sloth was here.

 “I did, though I don’t think we should be all too worried about her. Sloth was more or less on her own solo betraying Dante with whatever plan that nightmare of a homunculus has in mind.” Greed reassured Lust, though he did shutter a bit at recalling how Sloth explained why she wouldn’t join the resistance.

 “That sounds about right with Sloth, she was more of a silent killer than any of us combined.” Lust sighed a bit after hearing that, relieved that Sloth’s homicidal rage was directed towards Dante now rather than them. 

 “Now, what do we do about the ransom letter?” Greed asked as he redirected the conversation towards the letter. “I think once we have Envy here safely with us, I suppose we could consider making a plan with this one.” Lust glanced at the letter one last time before placing it aside for the time being.

 “That sounds good to me, now I have some good news. I’ve managed to procure some corpses that’ll be delivered here in a few hours. My proprietor will even have the corpses cut up like you would at a butcher shop for easy storage in the freezer or fridge. Gluttony should be good with that for the time being.” Greed said, smiling at the excellent job he has done with such a difficult order.

 “I’d kiss you if you weren’t such a repulsive asshole, thank you for getting Gluttony his meal for the next few days.” Lust was relieved that the food was acquired for Gluttony as Greed’s face deepened into a frown at being called ‘repulsive’.

 “Well aren’t you just a pleasure to work with. By the way, what happened with the Elrics?” Greed asked, wanting to get back a little at Lust.

 “Let’s just say I am very certain the Elrics and Envy are related, they’re all stubborn as I can get out of it. Edward definitely wants to locate Envy at once rather than wait, citing he doesn’t want any more people to die like this. I am strongly considering having Hughes going out and having a chat with them.” Lust heaved a mighty sigh at the trouble the Elrics were bringing into this, then again, both Elrics were still children and very impulsive ones at that.

 “It seriously can’t be helped, those two haven’t seen Envy like this before, so I’m guessing they’re thinking it’d be like the usual encounters they’ve had before. It’s probably for the best that you do have Hughes have a nice heart to heart with the Elrics, hopefully the Elrics will understand.” Greed couldn’t help but feel sorry for Lust as he too had to wrangle his chimeras from time to time before the touching moment was interrupted by the slamming of the back door.

 “Guys! Guys! Holy fuck, did you know that there’s a murder shed in the backyard!?” Freddy suddenly appeared from the outdoors after having to hide from Ernest and Dorian.

 “....We’re definitely going to have to lure the police into that shed now with Gluttony inside.” Greed smirked a bit at Lust as the murder shed was mentioned.

 “Goddamn it…” Was all Lust could say as she went outside to look at the supposed murder shed in the backyard.

 Sure enough, as Freddy had described, there was in fact a ramshackled shed out in the backyard that had clearly seen some awful things in its years. There were some questionable brownish red stains splashed against the aging wood and a suspicious dead fish smell that emanated from inside. Lust couldn’t help but wonder if the entire Mancer Family that Dolly came from were attracted to homicide scenes by pure nature. It was such a disgusting little wood construct, Lust wouldn’t even dare make Gluttony dine in such a terrible place. Gluttony, on the other hand, decided to investigate the questionable shed of possible ill reputation. The door to the shed fell right off after a gentle nudge from Gluttony to reveal that the shed had been in fact one for cleaning up wild game after a hunt, old skulls, long decayed organic wastes, and most importantly, weapons, a lot of weapons. There was a bit of relief from both Lust and Fredd that the shed hadn’t been used for murder, though it was still rather disgusting inside. The only one not completely disgusted by what was inside of the shed was good ol’ Greed as he carefully eyed the weapons on the wall.

 “These might come in handy.” Greed hummed to himself as he eyed an elephant rifle in the weapons collection.

 “....Are you thinking of selling these off in the black market?” Lust was annoyed at Greed, reasonably believing he was back to wanting to make more money once more. “Nah, guns like these are a dime a dozen down there, not a lot of profit to be made from it. No, I’m more or less thinking if the time thing is still an issue for the Elrics, we should consider using these as a deterrent.” Greed explained his idea as he checked carefully for ammunition for the elephant rifle. 

 “Oh right, yeah let’s totally shoot the angry gremlin dragon, it sure won’t make them angry or anything….fuck does Envy rage eats when pissed off enough?” Freddy sarcastically said before freaking out at the possibility of Envy eating him even more now out of anger.

 “Quit your squeaking little mouse, the adults are speaking to one another. Greed, as much as Envy likes to test my patiences at times, I don’t think I’m alright with shooting them with a gun…” Lust had to break up the Freddy drama before turning her attention back on Greed who finished collecting everything needed for that rifle. 

 “They shouldn’t even feel a thing, it’d be more of an annoyance like having small pebbles hitting their hind. What do you say, Lust? We can do it now and get Envy back here sooner without having to wait on Dolly to recover.” Greed reasoned, especially since Envy was at the moment a massive serpentine dragon from hell. 

 “We’ll hold a vote then, I’m not happy about this, but if that’s the choice we have right now, then so be it.” Lust relented as she looked ready to deal with the future bitching fit from Envy once they’ve recovered.

 “That’s fair, just expect Edward to be fully on board with doing it right now.” Greed warned since Edward may very well be pro on shooting Envy for all the grievances they’ve done in the past towards him and Alphonse.

 “Oh trust me, I will, I obviously will.” Lust was grinding her teeth a bit at that little reminder.

 “Don’t say a thing, I’ll get the others, but promise me, if we do this now, shoot Envy in the eyes for me. That’ll be my only request at this point.” Freddy said dejectedly as he went about rounding up the Elrics and Hughes, knowing well his days on earth were numbered.

 With everything said and done around the ramshackled shed of clearly awful origins, the group gathered back together to have a new discussion. The elephant rifle sat ominously on the table for everyone to see including Dolly who was concerned with such an awful thing nearby. It was also very evident with Winry that like Dolly, she wasn’t very thrilled with the direction this was going when Lust opened up the option. The table was hushed as the plan of going now to look for Envy, using the rifle as a time buying item should Envy get too close to the hearse. There were murmurs amongst the unlikely group for rescue Envy the Jackass team as they processed what was brought before them. Lust kept an eye on the entire reaction from the group as Edward, oh Edward, opened his mouth.

[asexual-spongebob]

The Waves That Lap The Shore - Chapter 21 - Welcome to the fish club, Paani.

Chapter 21 - The things that come with being a fish 

“Um… Mateys…” Kwazii stumbled as he entered Peso’s room, only see Shellington in his socks, sweat pants and a hoodie, holding a sleeping Peso in his arms and nuzzling it’s head. 

Kwazii had Shellington’s full attention. 

“We have a bit of a problem…” Kwazii began 

“Paani went to the active moon pool..” Kwazii continued, Peso jolted up “THEY WHAT-“ Peso gasped, Kwazii nodded. ”We should welcome him to the fish people club!” Shellington smiled “oh yeah we should add her to the fish dudes group chat!” Peso added “y-yeah” Kwazii said hesitantly.

Fuck. God damn it. Me boyfriend’s a fish now- and it’s all my fault… Fuck. Now they’re gonna have to think “please no tail” every time they get in the water so they won’t turn into a fish. 

And he’ll have to deal with being possessed by the moon and shit. Kwazii thought to himself as he left the room, he needed to process this.

What will Captain think? Kwazii asked himself.

I guess I’ll tell Captain… Kwazii decided, nervously walking to the HQ.

“Cap.. I can I talk you… alone?” Kwazii asked, awkwardly. “Yeah sure!” Captain Barnacles said, Kwazii guided  Barnacles to his room. 

Kwazii sat on their bed. 

“Um. I genuinely have no idea how to put this but… Paani is a fish now. He went to Mako Island during while the Moon pool was active… I couldn’t stop them. It was too late. I when I found her, she was in the pool chillin’ with out a care in the world. I’ll have to tell him later…” Kwazii explained.  “You should welcome him to the fish club!”  Barnacles smiled “I know.. I’m just a bit nervous I guess..” Kwazii sighed.

“Why?”  Barnacles asked “I’m not sure.. it’s just a lot for me guess.. these past months have been.. a bit of rollercoaster I suppose…” Kwazii began “first, Shellington became a merman, then he got moonstruck, then me and Peso became mermen, then I saved Paani from drowning, then I met Paani again, then me and him became close… then we fell in love, then I had a bad RSD episode and now this…” Kwazii continued “it’s just there’s been a lot stuff going on.” Kwazii finished.

 Barnacles knew what it was like to be in Kwazii’s position, he had listened carefully what Kwazii had said. 

“It’s okay to be overwhelmed, this is definitely a lot to handle.”  Barnacles began, he had chosen his words carefully. “But I know that we will get through this.” He continued. 

You will get through this. It’ll all be okay in the end. 

Those words hit Kwazii like a brick. 

Kwazii thanked  Barnacles before he left. 

However. Kwazii still had one thing on his mind. 

How in the name of the seven seas was he I supposed to explain to Paani  that he’s a fish now??? 

Kwazii went downstairs to get itself some breakfast. Hoping it’d help him feel less uneasy.

However, It started to think of the positives. 

Ye know what… maybe Paani being a fish wouldn’t be so bad… then I could show him all my favorite shipwrecks.. and all the coral reefs.. and we vibe in the moon pool together… and swim together… That sounds really nice actually. Kwazii thought, a smile appearing on its face. 

•••

Paani was at a lake, he’d just finished getting his hydrology log.

“Time for a swim.” Paani decided, putting on his Spotify playlist, taking off his jacket and shoes, running into the water, the texture of wet sand and pebbles on his feet.

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy, can I come over after school?

We can hang around by the pool.

Did your mom get back from her business trip?

Is she there, or is she trying to give me the slip?

Blared from Paani’s Octowatch, 

as they swam to deeper water, relaxing. Until they felt a strange sensation come over them. 

Paani looked down at their feet. To her shock she had fins. Like a fish. Just like his boyfriend Kwazii.

Where did it all go wrong? Paani asked himself. 

Wait a fucking minute.

That pool at Mako! It must have turned me! No wonder Kwazii had that “oh shit” look on his face! 

Paani had connected the dots. This happened because of Mako Island. 

Paani grabbed his Octowatch (which was, now on one her fins.) and paused the music. She frantically looked for Kwazii in her contacts.

Paani smashed his fingers against the tiny keyboard 

Paani: 

HEY UM. SOMETHING HAPPENED-

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat: 

OH NO WHAT?

Paani:

IM A FISH!!! 

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat

OH- YEAH I MEANT 2 TELL U THAT EARLIER MATEY- sorry abt that I just forgot 😭

Paani: 

Oh- cool- um- see you soon? 

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat: 

Yeah Matey. I’ll drag Peso and Shellie with me. 

Paani: 

👍

•••

Shellington was in the Launch Bay tank swimming, this reminded him of old times. Peso came the Octo-Chute “Hey Shellfish!” Peso said affectionately, “Hi pumpkin” Shellington purred, placing a conch shell and some tarnished coins on the ledge “I found this… I thought you’d think was cool.” Shellington smiled “thank you” Peso replied, stashing them into the pocket of its shirt.

“I’m gonna go swim some more, wanna join?” Shellington asked “Sure” Peso replied.

I’ll find something for him in return! Peso decided after getting into the Launch Bay tank.

Peso grabbed Shellington’s paw as they swam out the Octo-Hatch together, giving each other affectionate looks as they headed towards the moon pool.

Shellington and Peso resurfaced together “where’s Kwazii and Paani?” Peso asked “They said they’d be here soon.” Shellington said, as he snacked on some fish biscuits the vegimals had baked in the morning. “Want some?” Shellington offered “sure!” Peso smiled, snatching it right out of Shellington’s paw. 

Shellington had a surprised look on his face, but he remembered that he had eaten half a sandwich in one bite before. He shouldn’t surprised. 

Peso had finished it. “Thanks!” He said, brushing some crumbs off his face “your welcome” Shellington smiled.

Peso pulled his phone out and started blasting Beyoncé, it and Shellington started dancing and singing together.

Cause if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

Don't be mad once you see that he want it

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it .

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

Don't be mad once you see that he want it

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it.

••• 

Paani was frustrated, she wanted to punch someone or something right now. She wanted to punch her mirror and see shatter in to little pieces. 

He clenched his fist. Ready to punch the living shit out of that thing. However. He heard a loud booming coming from outside what was that?! Paani asked himself, turning around and unclenching his fist.

The skies were no longer gloomy. They were sunny. Paani glanced back at his hand Mako might have something to do with this. Paani figured.

Paani clenched their fist again, but this time, lightly. It started to rain. 

Raindrops softly hit Paani’s windows. 

Wow. I can do that? Paani thought to themself, amazed at their new ability.

Paani grabbed their phone and smashed their fingers against the keyboard.

Paani: 

I’ll meet u at a sidewalk. And ill see you and the nerds @ the moon pool soon + I’m gonna show y’all something 

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat:

Got it! See you then 😘

Paani:  💀/hj &lt;3

•••

Paani waited for Kwazii at a sidewalk Kwazii pulled up in the Terra Gup 4 (which, he had driven in without Tweak’s permission.) 

“Get in loser, we’re going to go swimming together.” Kwazii smirked,  Paani backflipped in into the gup and started looking through their Spotify playlist. 

He was trying to find the right song. Until she found the one.

Paani then started blasting Linkin Park while Kwazii was driving.

Soon, Kwazii and Paani pulled up to the beach, running on the board walk. Paani ripped off his jacket “you wear a tank top underneath your jacket?” Kwazii gasped, they had never seen Paani without her jacket on. “Yeah. I if I get to hot it feels better.” Paani explained. 

Kwazii and Paani ran into the waves and disappeared into them.

Paani felt a funny sensation come over him 

Bam! Fish tail! 

“Damn. Your the only one of us that actually wears a shirt.” Kwazii commented, Paani laughed. 

However, Kwazii started to study Paani’s tail. He noticed how colorful it was. It had shades of blues, oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples.

He was mesmerized “can you please stop staring me… we have to get going you know.” Paani told lightly “sorry-“ Kwazii said.

Kwazii grabbed Paani’s hand as they glided through the water together, they knew that Paani wasn’t exactly used to the whole… fish thing. Paani was glad he wore waterproof eyeliner today. Because if he didn’t he’d have eyeliner all over his cheeks. 

Kwazii showed Paani a tunnel “this the entrance to me, Peso and Shellington’s hang out. We’ve made some good memories here” Kwazii smiled.

Kwazii and Paani could hear the sound of Beyoncé’s music “who’s blasting Beyoncé?” Paani asked, raising her eyebrow “probably Peso. It’s always blasting Beyoncé.” Kwazii meowed. 

Paani and Kwazii resurfaced, they saw Peso and Shellington dancing to Beyoncé. 

“HI BITCHES!!!!” Kwazii greeted, Peso and Shellington turned the music off and stopped dancing.

Peso and  Shellington turned to face Kwazii and Paani. 

“Welcome to the fish club!” Shellington smiled “yeah! I’ll add you to the group chat later” Peso added.

Shellington looked closely at Paani’s tail 

“Oh! That’s a Japanese angelfish!” Shellington said, pointing to Paani’s tail “cool” Paani giggled, biting his lip “so what is it you need to show us?” Kwazii asked, turning to face Paani.

“This.” Paani said simply, light clenching his fist, it started to rain softly, then he clenched his fist harder, the sound thunder boomed from outside.

“I guess i can’t do fist bumps anymore-“ Paani mumbled, “but that’s fine. I prefer hand shakes and tail shakes instead.” Paani added “anyway.. I should get back home..” Paani said “can I come?” Kwazii begged, giving Paani goo goo eyes “yeah sure.” Paani agreed.

“How about we swim back to the Octopod and get Tweak to drive us to your house?” Kwazii suggested “yeah.” Paani replied.

Kwazii, Paani, Peso and Shellington swam back to the Octopod using speed swimming.

Kwazii, Peso, Shellington and Paani arrived at the Launch Bay. 

They dried off, Peso and Shellington went upstairs. Paani and Kwazii waited for Tweak.

“Hi Kwaz! Hi Paani!” 

 “Ahoy Tweak! We were wondering if you could drive me and Paani to their house?” 

 “yeah sure” 

Tweak, Paani and Kwazii headed to Paani’s house.

•••

Shellington and Peso went into Shellington’s lab. “Hey, I’m gonna take a nap” Peso proclaimed, flopping onto Shellington’s bed, Shellington tucked it in, “good night Peso” Shellington whispered, giving it a kiss on the forehead.

Shellington worked for some hours, he started to feel a bit sleepy, so he took what he called a “cuddle break” where he would cuddle Peso for a moment and then get back to work.

Shellington kicked off his tealish turquoise crocs and cuddled Peso for a moment, he started nuzzle his face and let out little purrs, hm… I don’t really want to get back to work… maybe I should join Peso and sleep.. Shellington thought I’ll go to bed. Shellington decided.

Shellington ripped off his shirt and lab coat and through them on the floor, he then joined Peso in bed, pulling him close, letting out soft purrs. 

[perpetual-fool]

(cw: violence, suicide)

Everything hurts. I've been trying to push forward with feelings things, it feels like walking into a biting cold wind. It's like the whole world is a fantasy. Most things have something off about them, and the things that seem nice are outside my reach. Nothing I'm feeling is good. Mostly it's pain, fear, cognitive dissonance.

And my mind is wandering to imagining being harassed. I can't imagine that ending in any other way than violence. Not that I think that would end well for me. I guess I'm imagining things like as it was back in second grade, though it never really got better. People will beat you down, take everything from you, and then make you thank them for it. And the only way to make them stop is to hurt them. But you can't just hurt them a little, then they'll just push you more. You don't count as a person unless you can inflict grievous bodily harm. I should have beaten my sister half to death. That would have been the only way to make her stop, to make her leave me alone. Maybe I should have put my father in the hospital when I tried to remove myself from the situation to calm down, but he followed me out and kept provoking me. I should have smashed his skull on the concrete when he told me that what I was doing was 'a cry for help'. But nothing I could do would ever be enough. Like, the only answer to harassment is violence, but it's only legal to use violence in response to violence. So anything I could do to protect myself would only bring more violence. That sort of parallels just asking people to stop, asking will make them harass me more. There's not even any point in it as a sacrifice. Like, maybe I would need to break someone's arm to splinters to stop them from touching me, and I would effectively lose my life for it. But maybe they'd at least learn not to touch people, and it would do some good for someone else? But it wouldn't. They wouldn't learn any lesson. They fully believe the have the right to do whatever they want to me, they wouldn't think they did anything wrong. Maybe it would help if I killed them? Removed their ability to do any harm. But pretty much everyone is a monster, culling one wouldn't make any meaningful difference. Nor would it really make any difference if it were most of them. It's just how they are, there's no helping it.

Being this upset is probably bad for my heart. It'd be.. I don't have a word for it. heartbreaking? devastating? to fuck it up again when I just had surgery. I think I'd be better off just killing myself if that happened. That's the only real way out anyway. What's the point? Trying to make myself numb wasn't good enough. Anything that makes me feel good now is just going to make me feel worse later, alcohol or whatever. The only time things were ever better was when I thought I had someone I could connect with, and I can never have that. What else is there? What other good is there in this world?

Apparently I need to be more careful about my vitamin D. Not that the issues aren't real. I'm not quite that bad right now, but there have been times where I did all the things just in case and it didn't help.

- I was looking at five string violas/violins again. I still think they'd be ideal for lead melody, however you'd phrase that. I think electric would ultimately be the most useful, but there are some issues with that. Foremost is the muting problem. That is, anytime the bow is on the string but not moving, it silences the string. Such as when changing bowing direction or ending a note. On acoustic it would keep ringing, but on electric it doesn't. A lot of demonstrations I've run across have that problem. It seems like it could be fixed with technique but that's unclear to me. Another is that most purely electric five-strings are violins. So, scale length is definitely an issue, multi-scale guitars are a thing for a reason. It's definitely a problem with seven-strings, one guy said if he doesn't cover up the problem with his amp/pedals then the lower strings sound like "angry bee farts". And on acoustic it's very clear-cut, a violin-sized body doesn't have enough punch for a low C string. But on electric, is it enough of a problem to be a problem? I dunno. Also I'm worried I might need a larger instrument to fit my hands. I played a 16.5" viola (I think), and was told that's the largest they had. I could maybe handle a 17". But supposedly the only reason they give you a viola as big as you can handle is because an acoustically ideal viola is too big to play under the chin. There's not really any information on how small is too small. I guess those are the only real problems. The other issues are 'instruments are expensive' and I'm not sure whether I should get an acoustic-electric or just an electric.

This would be getting ahead of myself. One instrument doesn't really sound like much on its own, so I'd really need recording equipment to make any meaningful music with it. Although maybe if I work out some kind of neck strap situation I could sing along with it.

And really, the big problem is knowing what I'd do with it. I guess I'm trying to make sense of my past. It's something that was more or less pushed on me, and I'm trying to make it fit. Which is all wrong. Ideally, I'd already know what I want to express, and would hove some reason to think that instrument would help me say it. Not knowing what's in there to get out is sort of the whole issue.

In that regard orchestra as a whole seems very wrong to me. I mean, if you want to be a cog in the machine and help realize someone else's vision, fine. But the whole process left me a soulless robot. And I haven't seen anything to make me think it gets any better. Not that I would really know, but there doesn't seem to be much of any artists doing new things on strings like how new rock/folk/whatever bands keep popping up. It seems to just be the same shit over and over. Which again, is fine, that's not in itself a bad thing. But it would be like if there were barely any new plays and people just kept doing Shakespeare again. (Though, I also wouldn't know about that.) And 'rock' strings gives me these rancid 'we can be cool too' vibes, sort of like Christian rock. There are two main things that bother me, rock covers and rockified classical. The latter is probably easier to explain. So like, I ran across this group, Tempus Quartet, doing a Vivaldi piece but with guitar and stuff. The problem being that Vivaldi was already saying something, and the guitar and stuff clashes with that. It ruins the piece. And the former, guitar and stuff does not translate to strings. Like, guitar is inherently rhythmic due to being plucked, and strings are inherently kind of not since bowing is soft. The vocal part doesn't work because you can't say words on violin nor match the timbre, melodically it's overly simplistic. So usually they jump from the lead guitar part to the vocals, going from fast and boring to slow and boring. Strings just have their own voice and really can't mimic anything else. And that's assuming they're doing it well, which I generally don't think they are, but that could get very pedantic. Honorable mention goes to the costumes and the dancing(?). For example, anything by Mia Asano. Or maybe it would be more fair to go after Mark Wood since Mia is still pretty young. I guess I feel like if you have to perform 'cool', then you weren't cool to begin with. But there seem to be entire genres built around that, so I probably just don't get it.