#sorry if this is bad Shrimp I really tried

[cerise-on-top]

Happier

I finally got around to writing something for Self-Aware!Gaz, even if I've been wanting to do that for months now. Either way, the lovely self-aware AU was created by the lovely @puff0o0!

Reader is depressed and sad and calls one of the lads, with Gaz responding this time. Implied Poly!141 x reader, mentions of suicidal ideation, and some dick joke, but that's it. In this story, reader has known about the lads being self-aware and calls upon them from time to time when they want to or need something and they respond. Lads can crawl out of the TV and could also drag reader into the TV to spend time with each other.

In this world where warmth was good, where it represented life, giving reassurance that your friends, your family, were with you to see the sunset, bestowing upon the world another tomorrow, more hope, you were certain the universe looked at you in awe. The endless vacuum, older than anything else, much colder than anything else, seemed closer to the sun when it came to temperature than you. Even so, you didn’t shiver, you didn’t have the energy to do that. Because whereas warmth was akin to life, you felt cold and dead tonight. The blanket laid neatly beside you, grabbing it was easy enough, all you had to do was turn and reach out. It was soft, it reminded you of the kindness of an old friend as it was a gift. However, you did not deserve neither kindness nor warmth, such was a fact. Have you earned it yet? No. Therefore you were forbidden from touching it.

A fine, cold winter evening it was again. The sun has kissed the world good night yet again, leaving everyone and everything to fend for themself. The snow glistened outside under the moonlight, the sky was clear with not a cloud in sight. And in spite of all the beauty you could find on the outside, all you could see was the introspection of a disgusting, unloveable creature. If you really were a human you’d know. Again, it wasn’t something you had shown enough initiative to deserve. Getting up from your bed, you stood in front of the window, watching cars drive by. A group of young adults passed by your home, stomping through the snow. One guy slipped, with one girl offering her hand to help him up. Another one took some snow into her hands, forming it into a sturdy ball before throwing it at the unfortunate guy. As he chased behind her, holding some snow of his own in his hands, he slipped yet again, laughter ringing throughout the night. A lovely sight, if only you could be part of a group like this as well.

Having had enough of their shenanigans, you turned the other cheek, closing the curtains so you won’t be bothered by such joyful displays of idiocy. Your heart beat in your ears, what an uncomfortable feeling.

Roaming your flat, you had no goal in mind. Did you want to use the bathroom? Did you want to get a glass of water? Did you simply want to stretch your legs? It was all an illusion of being something greater than some brainless creature, damned to walk this Earth until your heart would finally stop pestering you with its beating. Being alive was one thing, wanting to be alive was another. In a diagram they could overlap, what a joy that must be, but they didn’t have to. Surely, there were plenty of ghosts wandering these streets, regretting the things they never got the chance to accomplish. It didn’t matter, those ghosts weren’t you. In fact, there was only really one of them you cared about, and he was very much still “alive”.

In your living room, you stood still for a moment, looking around as though you tried to find a pointer. You wanted to do something, you forgot, you looked at the last thing you saw as you remembered what it was. No avail. Your memory really wasn’t what it used to be. When did you start forgetting? It would be sort of ironic if you remembered. But even as you suffered the consequences of something you had no part in, you glanced at your gaming console. A proud thing, even if it didn’t look that way. A PS4, while not the cheapest thing you’ve ever bought, certainly entertained you from time to time. You hadn’t even considered booting it up, maybe finding some fun in playing a game or two. It wasn’t the game itself you were looking forward to the most, however. Something much more valuable lied within a certain game of yours.

Turning on the lights, squinting as the room suddenly turned bright, hurting your eyes, you scanned the room for a certain something. Naturally, it was on the table right in front of the couch. You’d never dare to put it elsewhere. It always had to be somewhere you’d easily find it, not a single exception could ever come to mind. You grabbed the game, getting out the disk and swapping it with the one inside the console. God of War for Modern Warfare II, both violent in their nature. Maybe you should rethink your gaming habits someday, find something gorgeous, entertaining and calming. Maybe a certain farming sim you had been wanting to try would do the trick. Either way, that was something to consider at a later time. Having turned on both the console and the TV, you gently grabbed the controller and sat down on the couch, leaning back.

However, as you started up the game, with it loading, you couldn’t help but ponder. Would they really wanna hear it? Hi, I’m sad again tonight. Could one of you please help with distracting me before something terrible happens? That was the gist of it. Could you, in your melancholy drunk state, really find more eloquent words?

And there it was, the title screen of the game. Nothing you hadn’t seen a thousand times since the game was released, nothing too exciting, but it felt familiar regardless. If they noticed then they could probably see you already.

“Evening, guys. The demons are back and they’re swimming tonight.” Lovely, would that also get the message across?

Nothing happened for a while. No whispers, no “voice lines”, no pop ups, just the blue light going across the screen, just the red light blinking. If god and the lads had abandoned you, then you might as well gift yourself a bullet for Christmas. Still, you waited for another moment, bracing yourself for another scare that would always come whenever you asked for their presence. Someone, anyone, should have time. It’s not like they don’t follow you around wherever you go when they’re bored out of their minds.

A telltale sign: The TV turned off, leaving you with nothing but the reflection of your own and your living room. A few seconds later, the company’s logo shows up and, lastly, static ran across the screen, with white noise loud enough to be heard in the surrounding apartments accompanying it. This process would take a while, so you opted for grabbing two drinks from the kitchen. Some soda with some lemon slices would suffice. It was a great drink, very refreshing and the lads liked it as well.

When you got back into the living room, half a man had fallen out of the TV. It took its toll on him, holding onto the cabinet with all his might and dragging himself out of his virtual world and into your real one. Grunting and groaning could be heard, but the voice sounded distorted, not yet accustomed to an analog world. Placing the two glasses of lemon soda on the table, you casually walked over to the figure, grabbing his arms and helping him out a bit. Truthfully, it seemed like tonight you were going to be with Gaz.

By the time the spectacle was over, the TV had gone back to showing the title screen. Every time one of the lads visited you, you were reminded of the first time this happened, hiding wherever you thought you wouldn’t be found after attempting to kill the TV several times. You couldn’t even speak of fear back then, it was much more than that. Even now, slight terror runs through your veins whenever one of your lads stopped by to say hello, to help pull you out from whatever ditch the world decided to leave you in. If there was absolutely no one else you could count on, not even considering your world, then you could always count on the boys from another world. Holding Gaz by his arms still, helping him up in the process, temptation washed over you. Yes, he may have still been wearing his gear, but his hugs were to die for.

“Hey, Kyle. Thanks for coming, I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.” Huffing and puffing, taking one deep breath after the other, his response found itself to be a bit delayed. But no matter how tired he was, how much energy it took to realize himself in this world, he would always do it for you, in less than a heartbeat. His gloved hands took yours, holding them gently while running his thumb over your fingers.

“You know one of us always comes when you call. I’ll take off the vest and boots real quick and then we’ll talk, yeah?” Even through his gloves, even in spite of him being but a “fictional character”, you couldn’t help but feel some warmth for the first time that day. But much like the moon would leave the world in complete darkness, Kyle’s hands left yours, leaving the comfortable feeling to wane into the night.

“Not been doing too well as of late, hm?” Kyle was a grown man, an adult, but you still wanted to help him undress a bit, if just to feel that bit of warmth again. However, he was much quicker than you could ever be, having done this a surprising amount of times considering he could just snap his fingers and wear any outfit.

“Is it that obvious? I mean, you’re definitely right, but I was hoping I wouldn’t worry you guys too much with my mental state. Sorry about that.” And thus, the vest was off, the gloves and the boots being next. There was some sort of grace, despite him rushing to take off the excess clothes.

Kyle turned to you as he untied his boots. “Don’t apologize for those things, love. We’re always worried about you, but not always sure when you want us to be with you and when you’d rather be left alone. You’re helping us figure things out too by explicitly asking for us, you know?” At last, he took off his silly little cap, leaving it hanging on the coatrack in your antechamber. “Come on, let’s sit down on the couch again. You can tell me everything from the beginning.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you to the couch while holding you close.

Once the two of you sat on the comfortable fabric, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his waist to be just that tiny bit closer. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with me again tonight. Things used to be so good up until not too long ago, and now I’m back to being this pathetic, miserable piece of shit that I was before. Nothing’s going right for me anymore, I feel like I might as well just jump off the nearest roof to do everyone a favor. I don’t have anyone but you guys in my life, and I hate bothering you like this. Kyle, I’m sorry, again. If you have anything better to do, if you wanna play poker with the lads, then you can. I know you came all this way here, but you really don’t have to bother with me if you don’t want to.”

Pulling you closer to him, Kyle pressed his lips to your temple, leaving them there for a few seconds. Your mind was hazy, fuzzy with attempts of remembering when the last time you found yourself in a situation like this was. Despite not usually being the warmest person, Kyle was comfortable in this moment. Warm, alive, pleasant. He was willing to give you more hope, giving up whatever it was he was doing just to help you, bestowing upon you the warmth of a warm spring day, like the sun. And yet, whenever you looked at him, radiant him who, more so than anyone else, deserved a halo around his head, much like the moon, you couldn’t look away. His scent was reminiscent of metal due to various reasons. Even when he wasn’t trying he was much like the stars in the vast and endless universe. If you could have, you would have merged with him, dancing a dance of death and destruction that would kill both of you, but bring to life something much bigger than the two of you could have been otherwise. Circling each other like stars, drawing ever closer, until the final kiss that would leave your surroundings in awe. But for the time being, leaning into him, being in his arms until the sadness would grow sick and tired of you, leaving you for a few days before oh so nefariously finding new ways of tormenting you, was enough. It was all you could achieve.

“We love you, I hope you know that. If something were to happen to you we’d find new ways of getting to you as quickly as possible. We want to see you thrive, happy and well. Just because I could have played poker against Soap and lost doesn’t mean I won’t kill death himself just so I could see you. Whatever it is you need, I’ll give it to you somehow. We all would. Don’t you ever worry about “bothering” us again, alright?” His voice was laced with honey, its treacly sound drawing you in further and further. Kyle was a deadly man, if he wanted to, he could kill you as you were, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself against him no matter how much you thrashed and tried to get away from him. But even if he was as vile a man as you sometimes hoped he was, his sweet kisses, the ambrosia that gave you life in these barren wastelands, would always bring you back to him. He was kind, he was amazing. “You wanna watch a movie tonight? Or maybe just cuddle? I’m down for anything, you know.”

“I just feel like cuddling tonight. I don’t wanna see any more people, I’m so tired of them by now.”

And without any hesitation, Kyle got into a more comfortable position. With a kiss to your cheek, he pulled you down on top of him so you could rest your head on his chest. His heart was beating, how nice. Maybe one day you could think the same about yours. It was pleasant. One arm holding you close to him, the other one running up and down your body, making sure every inch of you felt loved and cared for, no matter what. A few moments like this were spent in silence. Neither you nor Kyle uttered a single word, simply content in each other’s presence for the time being. For a moment you wondered if your hearts would beat in synchronicity at some point. A few more moments passed, with Kyle slowly mellowing out the depression, replacing it with a neutral, content feeling over time. 

“Wanna play a game, love?”

Your eyes were closed, reveling in Kyle’s being instead of your miserable thoughts, but you agreed nevertheless, humming to him.

“Alright, I want you to guess who said the following things: What’s a Japanese cannibal’s favorite food? Rawmen.”

“Ghost.”

“Wrong.”

“What? Who else would tell awful jokes of that caliber if not Simon?”

“Soap at gunpoint.”

“On one hand, I want you to elaborate so bad, I need to know what in the world could have prompted this since Soap isn’t the biggest fan of Ghost’s jokes either. But on the other hand I don’t want to know what you rambunctious boys are up to these days either.”

“Your loss.” Kyle adjusted himself a bit, moving you a little bit closer to him so he has easier access to your head for maximum kissing efficiency. “Next one’s some dialogue between two people: “How long is your dick?”, “Seven.”, “Inches or centimeters?”, “Seven.” Who could have said that?”

A smile spread across your face upon hearing this conversation. “That’s such a guy thing to say, all of this. It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that you heard something like that at work. Realistically speaking, Ghost wouldn’t say that, and he’d also chop someone’s dick off upon being asked that. So I’m guessing Johnny asked and you responded? Because, while John is tired enough to answer, I think he’d also give Johnny hell for asking something like that.”

“Johnny is correct, the guy answering was John, actually.”

“Oh my god, I hate how I can actually see their faces during that conversation right now. Johnny is such a smart guy, but he just sometimes says the dumbest things, doesn’t he?” You couldn’t help but laugh this time. Poor John. But then again, he’s likely been asked dumber questions by people who are not affiliated with him the way Johnny is. “Another one, please!”

He did it, he received the greatest good in either of the two worlds: The laughter of one of his loved ones. Kyle succeeded, but by no means was he going to let you down. After all, he heard stuff like this on the daily, more than happy to tell you of the shenanigans him and the lads were up to. “Of course, here we go: “What purpose do wasps even serve?” “What purpose do you even serve?”

“It’s always Johnny, isn’t it? Johnny and I feel like it could have been any of you. Maybe not John, except when he’s tired and grumpy again. Was it you or Ghost who told Johnny to shut up this time?”

“I asked and Ghost responded.”

“Kyle, I love you so much, Thank you for sharing this nonsense among you and your comrades. Please continue!”

“Anything for you. So, here goes…”

[lucid-loves]

simon slowly falling in love with reader after hating her for a long time⁉️

Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! ❤

Nuclear Date Night

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, weaponsengineer!reader, codename: Byte)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, mention of violence, hate to love relationship, rivals, competitive, competence, realized feelings, smut, body praise, deep kissing, licking, fingering, biting, p in v

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: Ghost hates your guts. Even since you joined the team as their new weapons engineer two years ago, he’s hated you with his whole chest. With your high and mighty attitude, bewildering intellect, and unwavering confidence, he can’t stand you. You hate him too with his unreadable face, demeaning protection, and lack of grace. When an undercover mission requires the two of you to get closer, though, the both of you realize your hate for one another has turned into something else entirely. 

You ignored the icy cold glare the lieutenant kept on your figure as you explained how the new sniper-focus worked. Your comrades stared at your invention in wonderment, once again reminded just why you were part of the team. Thanks to your countless all-nighters and delicate hands, you managed to invent a focus that can attach to any sniper, calculate notches and wind speed, recommend the gun-adjust accordingly, and hit a target perfectly with over 98% accuracy. No matter the distance, no matter the weather, your focus powered with A.I. calculated assistance can kill any target. 

Everyone was impressed. Save for Ghost. 

“Aim at the target, give it a second to calculate, and then listen to the adjustment with the earpiece. After that, just adjust the aim and fire. Pretty simple stuff, really.” You demonstrated, large sniper in hand. 

The wind blew through your hair, dust coating your strands like moth to a flame. From a distance, a whipping dust devil was forming across the golden sands of the desert. It was dry, it was hot, and it was windy as hell. It was the perfect place to demonstrate your brilliance. 

When you joined the team two years ago, you knew that you had to put your heart and soul into this job in order to be taken seriously. You weren’t especially muscular or tall. As a soldier, you did train for instances of defense in case it was needed, but your true power relied on your smarts. A rather overlooked sign of an excellent soldier that often invited ridicule from the more traditional soldier. 

That’s exactly what Ghost did when he first met you. 

“You sure this shrimp can handle herself? Be one of us? She looks like she can barely lift a spoon without straining her wrist.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the memory, muscles tensing as if you were in that moment once again. The memory of your response quickly took over. 

“Are you sure this meat-head can handle my science? He looks like he can barely use a blender without getting confused by all the buttons.”

You both left a bitter taste in each other’s mouths that day. The taste has lingered ever since, tainting nearly every interaction you had. It was a wonder how you haven’t killed each other yet. 

Setting up the sniper, you prepped for the real demonstration. While you did final adjustments to the focus, you called over your rival. “Ghost, test this for us.”

“Why do I have to be the guinea pig? I don’t need a fucking robot to focus my aim anyway.” He protested, every cold tone in his words deliberate. 

The team shifted uncomfortably, even after all this time still not used to the spats the two of you got into. Attempts to resolve the bad blood have always failed. It was easier to just let the two of you spit your fire until you ran out of fuel. 

“Alright then, tough guy, you can aim without it. Go ahead, hit the target.” You nonchalantly agreed, confident that things were going to go your way this round. Ghost noticed that easy acceptance you gave, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to figure you out. What was your game this time?

Not one to back down, he approached the sniper and aimed it normally, your focus set to default. No robots, no artificial intelligence. Just plain-Jane markers for distance. Looking through the scope, Ghost looked for the little red flag that indicates the location of the fake target used for practice. After a while of looking at nothing but sand, he spotted the target just past the dust devil. 

He would have to account for that. You planned for this. No wonder you insisted on dragging them all out to this dry wasteland. He clenched his teeth, blood simmering as you tried to make him look like a fool in front of his team. Backing away, though, would make him lose this game. Shooting and missing would also give you the victory point. Either way, both scenarios made him look incompetent.

God, he fucking hated you. 

Suppressing a malicious smile, you antagonize him. The feeling of beating him made your heart race in excitement. “Any day now, Ghost.”

He hated the way you drew his name out like that. The way you so easily said it like it was nothing but air to you. Like bubblegum being blown and popped at your will. His name should’ve struck fear and intimidation. Instead, you chewed on it. Popped bubbles with it. 

Aiming the scope, he lined up his shot, and fired. Watching the bullet carefully, he saw it shoot forth with speed right on the dead center of the target, whip back from the dust devil, and hit sand with an explosion of grain. 

It took everything in him not to fucking leave right then and there. 

“Good shot if you planned on missing. Now, use my focus.” You continued to tease, twisting the knife further into his already wounded pride. There was little snickering coming from his men, Gaz and Soap not being able to contain themselves. They would admit that sometimes your fights were funny. It was a way to cope with the discomfort it brought. 

Silently, Ghost switched on your focus. Out of the side, a small earpiece ejected out. He took it and fitted it into his ear under the mask. Of course, you programmed the artificial instruction with your own voice. Serious, stoic, and purposeful. “Awaiting aim to calculate.”

He aimed once more at the metal target using the scope, the dust devil blowing the sand around violently to protect it at all costs. The scope projected its calculations as if he was staring at a screen. Within a few seconds, it completed its estimations. A green dot appeared way over to the left and bottom of the notches, marking the shooting point. Your voice rang in his ears. “Target confirmed. Aim and fire.”

This seemed way off. There was no way this could be right. Was he really meant to aim so far off? The green dot stayed perfectly in place as he adjusted the aim, his center notch in line with your tech’s mark. He hoped that it would miss.

He fired and watched the bullet sail through the air, ride with the dust devil like a wave, and hit the target with perfection. He became slack-jawed bewildered at the precision. The fact that it could calculate aim with even an extreme factor such as swirling winds was undoubtedly impressive. 

This was your clear victory. And he hated it. 

You relished in his fiery disdain of your genius. A small smirk played at your lips as you saw just how the rage froze his muscles. He looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“God damn, Byte! That was phenomenal!” Soap loudly praised, his eyes wide in true marvel. The others agreed, all wanted a turn to use that focus of yours like it was a new toy. Every invention that you gave them has felt like a new toy. It made those days feel like Christmas morning. You were great at your job and they couldn’t be happier to have you on the team. 

Of course, except for Ghost. Even if your engineering prowess was the best in the world. 

“Really great work, Byte! Are the blueprints all ready to copy?” Kate smiled appreciatively while tapping on her smartpad.

“All ready for production.” You simply answered, proud of the work that you had accomplished. Another one for the books. 

While the boys played with their new toy, Ghost stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. 

He hated everything about you. Your unmatched intellect, your confident plays, your arrogant personality. He hated that his team was wasting money on technology for weapons when a true soldier shouldn’t need the handicap. Real skill was earned by yourself. Not with the assistance of technology. It should be a tool, not a crutch. 

Ghost believed that people who couldn’t aim a sniper on their own and hit a target didn’t deserve to be snipers. And you just made him unworthy of being a sniper when against your tech. 

You looked up at him, taking note of how hard he threw daggers at you. You made him look stupid, and that was your goal. It felt like you had the world in your palm when you did. Someone as respectable as Ghost being bested by a brainiac was always the best. You proved that you didn’t need muscles or height or even intimidation to be better. You just needed your smarts. 

A huff of a laugh escaped you as you turned away from him, knowing that that would just make him even more angry at you. Good. 

You hated everything about him too. 

~

“What you do really is modern magic. Seriously, Byte, how does your brain come up with such things?” Gaz inquired, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. The team decided to celebrate your new invention at the usual bar. Of course, your drinks were on them as a reward. They knew that you put a lot of work into what you did. The least they could do was pay for your rum and cokes. 

You raised the cold glass to your lips, the sweet and spicy cocktail hitting your tastebuds. “The pros of being a genius. Thank you for the praise. It feels nice to be appreciated for my work around here.”

That last past was said a little louder, loud enough to make sure that Ghost could hear it on the other side of the bar. He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes at you, not willing to open himself to any more of your antagonizing today.

The victory was as sweet as the drink you were nursing. Addictive too. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of success. When you finished an invention, when you helped your team complete a mission, or when you bested Ghost, they all gave you that sweet sense of accomplishment. 

Soap slung his arm around your shoulder, nearly causing you to spill. He was already a couple drinks in. “Yeah yeah yeah, good work! But all we ever talk about is work. Been two years, Byte. Tell us what that genius does outside of work, huh?”

You shifted in your seat, becoming a little uncomfortable with the sudden questions about your personal life. They knew tidbits here and there about you. Some failed relationships, favorite songs, distaste for certain foods. But your answer to all of that was usually straight-forward. “We broke up.” “I like this song.” “I’m not going to eat that.”

Something that the team noticed early on was that you were a workaholic. You hung out with them on rare occasions, you were usually confined working in your lab while they had offices, and you usually departed events early to be in said lab. Besides minor details, they really didn’t know much about you outside of your work personality. They have been trying to pull you more out of your shell over time, but it was a slow process. 

Gaz frowned at Soap’s bluntness. “Come on, Johnny, leave her alone tonight.”

“It’s fine, Gaz.” You put your glass down roughly, the clink of the glass on polished wood sobering Soap up pretty quick. It made Gaz look away in shame. That was at least one thing they knew about you most intimately. You hated being treated like you can’t take care of yourself. When they stepped in on your behalf, answering a question that was meant for you, it made you want to hit them. You knew they only did it to protect you. That you were one of them and this is how they treated one of them, but you could never let it be. 

You didn’t need anybody to stand up for you. You will make that a point for forever if you had to. 

The air grew thick with tension as you silently scolded them for hitting one of your pet peeves. With a sigh, you caved in, wanting to restore some of that fun from before. “What do you wanna know? Anything is on the table.”

Soap’s face lit up like a match to a gas station. “Seriously?! Anything?”

You gave a little nod and braced yourself for the worse. Soap’s lack of personal boundaries was quite well known. It was coming from a place of genuine curiosity and ease, never ill-intent. It was just one of the quirks of Soap that you were still coming to terms with even after all this time. 

“Well. . . what’s your sex life like?” 

Gaz began to choke, coughing on beer stuck in his throat. Price tapped his back to help him out, his sharp gaze falling on Soap for such a personal question. Yet, he didn’t say anything. He knew that if he did, you would get angry at him. He has been pretty good about avoiding your pet peeve and he didn’t want to break his streak.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. You weren’t expecting such a blatant question either, despite inviting this kind of open question. It didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be honest, though. That just wasn’t the kind of person you were. You never stepped away from a challenge. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Soap grinned widely, happy to talk with you finally like you were just like one of the guys. “Body count? Preferences? All of it. I wanna know what a genius views sex as.”

Slowly, you drank the rest of your rum and coke before signaling for another one. While you hailed the bartender, you noticed that Ghost was staring intensely at you. He hated you, but even he was curious on how anyone could tolerate you enough to sleep with you. 

Once you were halfway through your second drink for some liquid courage, you began to talk about one of the most personal details of your life. “Body count of five. All men. Most were one-night stands or sex-friends.”

You liked sex. There was no question about it. At least, you were interested in it. Despite the amount of people you’ve been with, they always left you wanting more. It was always a little unsatisfying when they were finished. It always felt like there was a black hole inside of you that needed the right meal to be satisfied. 

The exact reason why was no mystery either. Unless you were masturbating alone, you never came. No matter how much time and effort went into foreplay, none of your partners have ever made you orgasm. 

Just because your sex life was active didn’t mean it was great. 

“Wow, that’s a little surprising.” Gaz admitted, finally over his coughing fit. Price shook his head, a little embarrassed to hear about his men talking about sex so freely with you. As a captain to a group of mostly boys, he has shared details with them to bring the group together. It felt a little strange to have you participate in this. Even Kate wasn’t pressured into sharing such details. 

“Our little genius gets some then! How is it? Any experience noteworthy?” Soap persisted as he ordered another round.

“Not especially? Average, I suppose.” You shrugged, answering the questions becoming much easier the more you poured rum and coke into your system. Warmth crept along your cheeks, blossomed in your ribs. You felt yourself opening up like a dormant flower. 

You ordered another drink. Soap continued to pry. “Average? What does that even mean?”

“I never came before.” You suddenly blurted out, the blending of your naturally blunt personality and alcohol turning into a pretty dangerous combination. It seemed like the rum in you was getting to your brain faster than you thought. 

This time, it was Soap’s turn to choke. Gaz was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to comfort your plight. Ghost just stared as if he was watching the news. However, his mind was thinking all sorts of things. He wanted to mock you. Say that that was what you deserved for being so arrogant about your intelligence. He felt the instinct to trash talk you to recover some of the pride he lost today. 

Yet, he couldn’t. In fact, he began to feel a foreign pity for you. If you knew that he was pitying you over something like this, you would absolutely rip him a new one. That didn’t stop his eyes from softening for just a moment, though. A moment that you noticed with those sharp eyes of yours. 

Finishing your drink, you slammed the glass on the counter, nearly shattering it. How dare Ghost look at you like some tragic whore! So what you never orgasmed from sex! You were doing just fine when it came to solo-sex escapades. You didn’t need anyone to satisfy you. You only needed yourself. “I do perfectly fine when I masturbate. Don’t get it twisted. Other people just don’t satisfy me. It’s whatever.”

In a simmering fire, you got up from your chair and left the bar for the night, leaving your teammates wondering what the hell got you so worked up all of a sudden. 

Only Ghost knew the answer to that. 

~

Arriving back on base on your motorcycle, you headed straight to your lab. It was quiet. The dead of night. Everyone else was either back home, sleeping in the barracks, or partying it up downtown. You had an apartment to go back to, but you always found yourself coming here instead. 

Settling your helmet and jacket on the coat-rack, you made yourself at home. Dim-emergency lights softly illuminated unfinished projects on tables. Pieces of wires, circuits, and bolts littered every corner of the room. The place looked small and cramped during the day, scientists and engineers squished together in a lab that was second priority compared to the more athletic-based facilities. In the night when no one was here, the place looked like a tech graveyard. Vast, dark, and cold. 

You headed towards your usual workstation, a large workshop desk that was overflowing with unfinished blueprints of inventions that haven’t panned out just yet. A lot of the struggle came from lack of funding. Some of it came from unrealistic expectations. Science was an investment, something that most military dogs failed to realize. It’s why you always pushed yourself to work constantly and prove what the proper time and resources could bring. 

You were essentially killing yourself in order to make them see the worth of your department. 

Looking through the blueprints, you settled on one that was worth revisiting. A Russian Doll bullet that would save ammunition and materials to build said ammunition. The idea was to invent a bullet that would be compatible with most firearms, shoot an outer layer of bullet without shooting out the inner layer, and repeat until the last of the bullet is gone only to be replaced by another Russian Doll bullet. 

It would effectively turn a six-shooter into a twenty-four. It would save so much ammo and save many soldiers the reload time. 

The only problem you haven’t solved yet was the instability of gunpowder. 

That’s what you decided to work on tonight. Taking a seat in your worn out swivel chair, you opened your drawers and pulled out your materials. Bringing a magnifying glass close to you, you began to disassemble a few bullets. It was always a good idea to build things by first taking things apart. 

As you worked, you heard the sound of the lab door open. It was still much too early for the morning crew to come in, so you wondered who it could’ve been. Maybe Price had come to lecture you about how you left things at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to talk to you about your temper. 

Turning around, you were surprised to meet your rival, peering over all of the electronic corpses on the tables. He didn’t come here very often. You were always here after all. He knew you were always here. He shivered, noticing just how chilly it was inside the lab. The air conditioning was running on full blast. “Feels like a meat-locker in here. How can you work like this?”

“What do you want?” You sharply retorted, nerves already on edge at his presence. The lab was supposed to be your refuge. Your paradise. And here came the snake. 

“Relax. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you about the focus.” He treaded carefully, his own instincts waiting to fire off like they were used to when he was with you. A lightbulb in his head just went off just then. He realized just how bad the relationship between the two of you was since his first real instinct was to yell at you. Ghost knew you felt it too. 

He was supposed to be the 141’s Lieutenant. He was supposed to bring the team together for his captain. And here he has been for two years, trying to push you out. 

Ghost has never even approached you without the intention to fight or yell or demand since the first day he met you.

Christ, was there any recovery from this? Ghost took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully for once. “The focus is great. You did a good job.”

“Don’t fucking pity me.” You snapped, turning back to your desk and igniting sparks as you bonded metal with heat. A hurricane brewed in your chest. Did he seriously come all this way to pity you? The gaze in his eyes should have been enough. It made you leave the bar!

Ghost felt that fire rising in his throat, wanting to say something back that would hurt you. Old habits die hard. It was a tough pill to swallow. “I’m not trying to pity you. The focus is going to help a lot of soldiers. It’s going to save a lot of people.”

You paused, unsure if his words were genuine or misleading. You’ve fallen into that trap before, hearing what seemed like a compliment only for it to be backhanded. It was unfortunate that you didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth. “Why did you look at me like that at the bar?”

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he wished he didn’t. He didn’t really want to talk about your sex life when it was just the two of you. Especially not when the two of you haven’t even had one decent interaction with each other. Goosebumps prickled all of his skin, his teeth nearly chattering. How could you keep it so fucking cold in here?

“I felt sorry for you.” He admitted, finding himself unable to lie to you or change topics. At least from the beginning, he has always been honest with you. 

As you heard the words you loathed to hear, you put down your tools, hands becoming too shaky to handle them with all the rage storming inside you. “I-”

“I felt sorry that no one has liked you enough to satisfy you.” 

Well, that didn’t exactly sound right.

Your mouth opened in shock at his dig. His eyes widened as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that it sounded completely fucking wrong. He held his hands up in defense, scrambling to explain himself before it was too late. 

The hurricane was in full swing, though. But instead of bringing thunder, it only brought rain. The corners of your eyes prickled with tears before streaming down your flushed cheeks. A lump choked in your throat choked the air out of you. You thought you could say something hurtful back. You always did before. But this time, his words cut a little too deep.

None of your relationships have lasted long. Not even with people you agreed to just be sex-friends with. They always ended up leaving. Whenever you asked what went wrong, they always blamed it on your demeanor. Your personality was too particular. Your interests were too complex. Your high expectations were too much. 

It was one of the reasons you kept a distance from the 141. They loved your company as far as you knew. But only in small doses. Who knew what would happen if they really spent time with you? They would probably get sick of you over time too. Ghost hated you since day one after all. 

No one liked you. You thought that you were fine with that at this point, but clearly you weren’t.

Ghost stood frozen in time, completely taken aback by your sudden tears. He expected screaming. He expected hitting. He expected icy retorts. That’s all he has ever known you as. He never in a million years expected tears. 

It made him feel like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what to do about it. 

All of his years of hatred for you melted away as he watched you crumble, your distrust for him putting up more walls between the two of you. Jesus, how does he fix this now?!

“Byte, I-”

“Don’t you think I already know that no one likes me? You think you’re the first person to hate my guts?!” You spat, some of the lightning finally coming out. The tears kept coming, but it was somehow better for Ghost. He felt more used to that dangerous spark you had. It made you easier to approach now. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Poor choice of words. Honest. I just meant that. . . I . . . Everyone deserves to be loved enough to the point of satisfaction. You work hard and give us countless advancements to use. You deserved to be satisfied. You deserve to have someone that will put the work into you too.” He finally managed to find the right words, nearly running out of breath with all the effort he had to find them. He was never really good at heart-to-hearts. 

You looked at him in shock once more as he attempted to salvage the hurt he caused you. This was beyond confusing for you. Your brain that worked so hard everyday, that could think up a million things at any given time, was at a loss for words. 

In your uncertainty, you followed your instincts. And that was to turn back around to your desk, wipe your eyes, and get back to work. It was the only constant in your life that you could rely on. The best way to think. 

Ghost didn’t blame you for returning to work. He probably wouldn’t know what to say either if it was him. Instead of pushing it any further, he decided that it was probably best to leave. Before he headed out of the lab, he turned back and looked at you. 

You did the same, the moment of work gracing your senses. In the end, he did try to pay you a genuine compliment. You were always the type to reciprocate fairly. “Thanks, Ghost.”

There was a certain way you said your thanks that made Ghost’s heart skip a beat. A sense of gentleness that he’s never heard from you before. The way your eyes shone bright from leftover tears had him stunned. Were your eyes always that pretty?

He turned quickly and left, the back of his neck heating from the intrusive thought he just had. As he walked back to the barracks, he sighed. The air outside was much warmer than the environment of your lab. So much easier to breathe. It felt suffocating being in there. Out here, he could let his mind relax.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. 

~

The two of you didn’t fight as much anymore. Sharp words slipped out every now and then, but neither of you kept feeding the fire once they were said. Most of the time, you two were just back to avoiding each other. Though, the both of you had your own reasons. 

You found yourself just at a loss of words when he was civil. It was that distrust that still lingered that made it hard for you to interact with him. It was especially difficult to be around him when he was actively being polite. Praises for your work, helping you carry heavy boxes across base, or prioritizing processing your submitted paperwork was always done either curtly or in silence. It was foreign to you.

And the energy you saved now that it wasn’t spent on fighting was now put to use by noticing him a little more. You always couldn’t help but stop and stare as he helped carry equipment with you from the lab to the armory. The way his biceps flexed with ease at the heavier load. The way his eyes remained stoic even as he embraced your inventions. Ghost was now more on your mind than ever, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Ghost, on the other hand, was now always thinking about you. He felt the urge to get closer to you. To get to know you better. To help you out in a way that didn’t look down on you like he’s always done. He couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes too. How bright they were under the sun or moon. How they watched him under such careful supervision, trying to decipher if his good will was real or not. 

Even in moments where he didn’t want to think about you, he found his mind wandering anyway. Ever since that night in the lab, he felt his feelings change. Two years of anger and resentment for you have nearly melted all away only to be replaced by something else. And he didn’t know how to explain it. 

All he could do was try to keep cool. Remain civil. Avoid too close of interactions with you. 

It was working for the both of you for months until you were assigned to a mission together.

The team had noticed that the both of you were getting along in the loosest sense of the term. They wondered what caused such a shift, but they never asked out of fear of resetting the apparent progress. Instead, Price tried to push more progress by assigning the both of you to work an undercover mission. 

A wealthy investor of nuclear weaponry was suddenly pouring a lot more money than usual into a country with a rising dictator. The investments coincided with less threatening ideas such as climate change prevention and DNA study in order to balance out interest. The goal was to detain this investor, question him about his relationship with this dictator, and then hopefully stop a dangerous man from getting his hands on advanced nuclear power. 

The way in was at a formal event promoted by the science community. Conservationists, biologists, engineers, and more were going to be present to try to win over some other wealthy investors that would be there including celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. It was a high brow event which made the need for scientific knowledge apparent. 

And who knew more about such science than you?

Intimidation invitations in hand, Ghost waited in a hotel lobby, a crisp, black tuxedo hugging his form as if tailored to him. The skull balaclava was swapped with a simple black face mask, covering enough of his identity which made him feel better about all of this. Looking at a nearby mirror, he checked his blonde hair. He’s never dressed so formally in his life. 

He suddenly wondered if you would like it. 

You still need a moment to get ready, always one to check twice to make sure you had everything you need. Your heart raced in your chest, your nerves tingling with adrenaline as you prepared to see this mission through. You’ve been on the field a couple of times. Never under-cover. The fact that you would probably have to do most of the talking made you nervous. 

People didn’t like you. That weakness of yours was clouding your confidence. Being a woman in science was already a tough world. Would you be able to keep your personality in check if you faced such a conflict?

Nervously, you headed down to the lobby, adjusting every dress each step of the way down. When you spotted Ghost from a distance, you froze. You have never seen him so cleaned up before. When you were coming down, you half expected him to appear like he always has. Military uniform, skull mask, strapped with obvious weapons. 

You didn’t know that his hair was so. . . 

Finding yourself at a loss for words again, you steeled yourself. As you got closer, you realized that your heart was racing for an entirely new reason. Your lieutenant was much more attractive than you thought. 

And he was technically your date for tonight.

Ghost caught your figuring in the corner of the mirror, making him turn around. Time stood still for you once again as you appeared before him looking like someone straight out of a romance movie. Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, every strand of hair was styled beautifully to frame your face, makeup only highlighted just how beautiful you naturally were. 

How could he never see just how beautiful you were before?

You walked closer and cleared your throat, that voice he thought was so annoying before now sounding like the sweetest violin. “Lieutenant, you look good this evening.”

This was the first compliment he’s ever received from you. It made his stomach do flips. What was happening to him? Pull it together!

“Thanks. You look great tonight. Ready?” He offered his arm, waiting for you to take it. 

Your heart could barely take it as you looped your arm around his, touching him so intimately for the first time. Heat radiated from his body. The biceps you found yourself staring at before felt solid under your touch. You looked up into his eyes, the glacier blues melting into a deep ocean. Looking away suddenly, you attempted to hide your blush. He was looking at you so intensely that it startled you.

“Do you have to stare?” You questioned a little too sharply than you intended. You braced yourself for him to say something equally sharp, something Ghost felt in your arm that was hooked around his. 

He averted his gaze, now conscious of the way his eyes naturally followed you. His mind searched for an explanation for his lack of discretion. The unexplainable pull that you had on him. Jesus, it was like he was. . . 

Oh. Oh no.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, trying to keep his feelings in check. How could he spend two years praying for your downfall to all of a sudden being-

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to entertain the likely possibility. Even if he wanted to act on his feelings, did he really deserve to after all the fighting for two years? You would probably never truly accept him after all the things he’s said and done. You weren’t completely innocent either, but Ghost had to face the fact that he was the one that started it all. Before even knowing your name, he insulted you, unable to keep his opinion on tech in weapons in check. A matter that wasn’t even your fault to begin with. 

What the hell was wrong with him back then? What the hell is even wrong with him now?

“Hey, Earth to Ghost. You okay?” You asked, noticing how he seemed to be just staring into space as they waited for the car to pick them up. There was a brightness in the night, a rain having just finished its pour. Puddles on the ground reflected the city’s lampposts, cars flashed their lights, and much to Ghost’s dismay and pleasure, your eyes shined replaced the stars. 

His voice was deep and agitated, more so upset with himself than with you. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”

At that you smirked that devilish smile that he hasn’t seen in a while. It pissed him off to no end before, but now it made his heart flutter. “Wow. The great Lieutenant Ghost has nerves. Never thought I’d hear that. Makes me feel a lot better, though.”

“And why is that?” He inquired carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer. 

You shrugged, actually starting to feel at ease for the first time in his presence. The butterflies were still there. They were just much more manageable now. “I am nervous as well.”

Before he could question you further, the designated car pulled up in front of the hotel. Gaz, parading as the chauffeur for tonight, got out of the car and held open the passenger door for the both of you to get in. Soap wanted to do this job, but Price refused. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth if he saw the two of you together like this. Gaz at least had a filter.

He played the role to a tee, onlookers staring as he took off his hat and bowed. “Good evening. You both look dashing tonight. Especially our lady.”

The cover was working smoothly. Together, they really looked like A-list people. The civilians would have never guessed that they were all just soldiers. Drinking in their looks, you let it replenish your confidence. You got into the car followed by Ghost, Gaz shutting the door once everyone was settled. As he drove to the venue, he went over the mission details. 

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you the entire time. We have access to all the venue’s cameras and we have mics hidden throughout the building. Some security is our own too to keep an eye on things. This place will be packed full of civilians, so violence must be kept to a minimum. Non-existent preferably. If anything does go wrong that we don’t notice, use the codeword.”

You nodded at all of the information that will keep you safe, reading the mission file to brush up on before the big show started. Ghost looked over your shoulder, also reading the file once again. Mostly though, he noticed how intensely you studied. You didn’t want to be the reason why this mission failed. You couldn’t afford that. 

When the car slowed in front of the venue, you looked out. At least a hundred people were outside, dressed to the nines, ready to spend their money or ask for money. Your blood suddenly became cold as you looked at all the people. There must have been hundreds more inside.

Gaz parked the car and stepped out, getting ready to open the door for you. However, you were a statue. Unmoving. There was panic in your eyes. You looked the part for this. Could you talk the part too?

A warm, large hand landed on your shoulder, gaining your attention. Ghost looked at you with steady eyes, his tone slow and soft as honey. “You got this, Byte. You’re probably smarter than everyone here. I’m right by your side too.”

It was relieving hearing those words come from him. He was encouraging you like he was your lieutenant. Like you were part of his team. Your heart swelled as you looked into the eyes you’ve been trying to avoid. It looked like he was finally seeing you after all this time. 

With a deep breath and a new steely expression, you nodded to Gaz through the window. He opened the door and Ghost stepped out first. You took the hand he offered you and came out, the buzz of intellectual conversation in the air. 

Gaz drove off, leaving the mission to the two of you. Ghost led the way up, your arm in his like it was always meant to be there. Miraculously, the two of you looked like the ideal date. It made getting into the venue easy as Ghost handed over the invitations to the guard at the entrance. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Have a fun night!”

The both of you couldn’t help but blush at the shared name. To be referred to as Mrs. Riley gave you ideas that you never thought you would think about. It strangely had a nice ring to it that made your senses prick up. 

Ghost thought the same thing as he guided you in. Tonight, you were Mrs. Riley, his beautiful and intelligent wife. 

The two years of hating each other seemed to feel farther away as the night stretched on. 

The marble floors were packed with esteemed guests. Large, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold jewelry and champagne glasses. A live orchestra played with precise rhythm. Everyone mingled, trying to see where the best place to put their money was. Likewise, scientists tried to advocate for their foundations. All of the talk made Ghost’s head swirl. He was used to undercover missions, however, this was truly out of his realm. 

You were better at picking up the jargon. They spoke a language you understood. The language that only the people in the lab on base understood. It was like hearing your native tongue after years of speaking foreignly. Military culture and science culture was so different, that you often missed this. 

A couple approached the two of you, led by a middle-aged woman with a large, diamond necklace and fake lilies in her hair. “Aren’t you two the most adorable couple! I must compliment you on your gown too!”

This was it. This was their test to look like a real couple out as each other’s dates. You put on a fake smile and held out your hand. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m Mrs. (Y/n) Riley. This is my husband.”

The name slid easily off your tongue, yet it sent electricity through you. There was no way you were going to get used to that name tonight. It made you feel lightheaded when you said it. How could you get so embarrassed by a fake name?

Ghost was having trouble getting used to it too, a part of him wishing that the name was real against his will. Clenching his jaw, he looked out at the crowd, trying to spot the target. His large height helped, but there were too many people around. They all crowded around each other. Talking, laughing, flaunting. A slight tug on his arm brought his attention back to you. You were just sending the lady on her way after a simple, pleasant conversation. Through that, you were able to figure out if the target has shown up yet. 

“Let’s go to the main ballroom. According to the recent intel, our target would be there if he’s shown up. Something about him not being able to resist a shrimp cocktail.” You directed, your confidence becoming stronger as you weaved through the crowd. Ghost couldn’t help but take in your courage, finding it hard to believe that you were once nervous. Then again, this was your crowd.

The ballroom floor was also filled with people, but also now with clear advertisements from scientists. Small signs indicated programs with their representatives, helping investors find the right place to put their money in. You read the signs carefully, recognizing a few of them along with who was supposed to be running it. At some of the names, you grimaced. 

“You alright?” Ghost asked, trying to keep his own expression solid as if he was playing poker. He found himself worrying about you now that you looked so pained. 

You shook your head, trying to clear unpleasant memories as best as you can. “I’m fine. I just. . . I hope I don’t run into any ex-colleagues.”

As if the devil was listening himself, you heard your name being called from afar, a surprised tone countering the determined piano filling the room. “Y/n? Is that really you?!”

Putting on your game face, you smiled and turned towards your former colleague and, unfortunately, ex-lover. Of course, this was going to happen. Almost always one thing goes wrong during a mission. A part of you wished you didn’t accept this mission now that you were face-to-face with someone you tried to leave in the past. 

“Dr. Emmanuel. It has been a long time.” You greeted politely, taking extra time to keep your tone in check. The last time you spoke to him was during the breakup. He dumped you after a quarrel about a missing blueprint. You were working on a project together when you were both interns at a scientific space-engineering facility. The blueprint was supposed to help the both of you land permanent positions, but it was made clear that there was only room for one. 

When you heard the news, you both agreed that neither of you would take credit until you talked to the head of the facility. That was, until the blueprint went missing. From there, you fought and accused him of taking the blueprint for himself to get the job. Your hunch was right when you saw the new employee ID card he hid in his wallet. 

You called him a traitor. He called you deplorable. You claimed that most of the blueprint was your design. He reasoned that if you had the job, you would neglect him anyways with your workaholic nature. He then dropped the bomb that he hated working with you, that you made him feel insecure in bed with your inability to orgasm with him, and that you were just becoming into someone he loathed with your particular personality. He accused you of not loving him enough.

So he took the credit and ran, leaving you to figure out what the hell you were going to do about a job. That’s when you decided to join the military as a weapons engineer. Some time after, you joined the 141. 

“It has been some time, hasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you here? Are you here as a scientist or an investor?” Your ex inquired, sizing you up as someone to take advantage of or as competition for investors. You knew his game and you knew it well. You only had to learn the hard way once before you learned your lesson. You never made the same mistake twice. 

Ghost noticed how your expression hardened, yet you maintained that fake, pearly smile. What was this man to you? How did you know each other? 

Why did he care so much?

“He is the investor and I am the scientist. This is my husband, Mr. Riley.” You announced, now saying the word “husband” with your full chest. Your ex’s eyes widened briefly before twisting into a smile that showed hints of disgust. 

Nonetheless, he held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley. It is an honor meeting a man that could tame such a work-driven woman.”

Before you could shoot back some venomous words that were bubbling up on your tongue, Ghost took his hand and gripped it tight with that soldier strength of his. Your ex seemed distraught as pain shot through his hand that was being crushed. Ghost didn’t let up. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t look down at my wife, doctor. I love her just the way she is. I’m sure she has accomplished much more than you as well.”

“Now, if you will excuse us, we have better things to talk about with other people.” Ghost finally let go, bruises already starting to form on the crushed hand of your ex. While you normally would pop off at him for standing up for you when you could’ve done so yourself, you were too busy thinking about his words. The L-bomb he dropped seemed to flow so naturally from him. It made you feel flustered. 

As Ghost led you away, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He took your flustered expression as you being upset. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset with him or your ex-colleague. He knew he triggered your pet-peeve and he wanted to apologize. For now, though, he had to settle with a raincheck. “We’ll talk about that later. Do you see our target yet?”

You snapped back into action, being reminded that you have a mission to accomplish above all else. Looking around, you tried to spot the target. As predicted, there he was, gorging himself on shrimp and champagne. “10 o’clock.”

He looked over and confirmed. “Target spotted. Good eye. Ready?”

Taking a few deep breaths to reset your brain, you nodded. Swiftly, the both of you approach the target just as he was taking another flute from a silver tray. You changed your serious demeanor into a more graceful one. Someone worth giving money to. Someone that the target will like. “Mr. Marston. I was hoping to finally meet you tonight. I am Y/n Riley. This is my husband. You are such an inspiration to both scientists and investors.”

“Ha! A couple of fans with good taste! A pleasure to meet such a handsome couple! I’ve been in the business for a long time though, so I know you must want something. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes, even if they are old.” He laughed cheerfully as he raised more alcohol to his lips. 

It seemed that this would be easier than you thought. People like Mr. Marston made you sick. People with way too much time and money on their hands to shape the world as they saw fit, regardless of the good of the people. Nuclear war would be a disaster. And yet, this man treated it as lightly as the glass in his hand. Careless. Spilling over with each movement. Such a fragile thing away from one wrong move before shattering into a hundred pieces. 

“With age comes experience and wisdom. I am a scientist looking for an investor. Though my studies tend to be a little. . . unconventional.” You buttered him up before casting your line. All he had to do was take the bait.

And that he did. His eyebrows rose with interest at your choice of words. He felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket. “Unconventional, you say? Well, I am all for out-of-the-box solutions to our world’s problems. Care to elaborate on your odd studies?”

You looked up at Ghost, awaiting some sort of signal that you may proceed with luring the target to where you needed him to be. He gave a single nod, disguising it as full support for his lovely wife. You were handling this much better than he expected. Or perhaps, this is how you always were under pressure. His judgment was always just too clouded with contempt to see it. 

“We would love to talk about our project, but such a thing is rather sensitive in nature. I would hate to upset some over-hearers. Perhaps we shall meet later once the formal is over?” You played cautiously, not yet reeling in such a loose bite. 

“Oh my, now you really have my interest! There are a few study spaces at this venue reserved for investors and scientist contract negotiations. I haven’t committed to any facility yet, so why don’t I start with reviewing you? What do you say?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “That would be most ideal, Mr. Marston. Just lead the way.”

Grabbing a few shrimps to go, the target led the way to a more private area of the venue. Everything was smooth, all according to plan. The crowd parted away for the richest investor here, making the exit quite swift. Once the three of you separated from the main event down to a much quieter room, Ghost detained him with cuffs. A button on his watch was pressed, signaling to the team that the target was in custody. 

“Wh-What?! What is all this now?!” Mr. Marston protested, hoping that someone would come to his rescue. 

“Lieutenant Ghost and Sargent Byte. You are being taken into military custody for involvement with nuclear investments. We just need to ask you some questions.” You explained carefully, trying to keep the target calm so you didn’t attract unwanted attention. Cool, calm, and collected. Ghost thought it was a good look on you. You weren’t normally involved like this, so he couldn’t help but think so. 

He had it worse than he thought. Seriously, what was with him?

While Ghost took his hands off the target for a moment to reach for his phone, feeling an incoming message, the target swirled around and tried to bolt. Not in the direction of an exit, though. Instead, he was running straight to you, binded fists raised to strike you. Thanks to your self-defense classes through the military, you acted on pure instinct. You dodged his fists and struck his jugular with a sharp strike of the side of your hand. He gasped for air and collapsed, tears streaming down his face as if he would die from the loss of oxygen. 

Ghost’s attraction to you increased tenfold as you nonchalantly fixed your dress like a meager wind just caused only slight agitation. He forgot just how capable you could be physically, not just intellectually.

Right on time, Price waltzed in wearing his common military uniform. He didn’t even bat an eye at the struggling target. “Transportation is outside. Well done, you two! It was about time you worked together on something. I hope to see more of this in the future!” 

You made some distance between you and Ghost, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. For some reason, it pained Ghost to see you put up that wall again so soon after the mission. Was this the first and last time you would get along so well with him?

No, he decided. He told you that he would speak to you later about the interaction with Emmanuel. Then, he would knock your walls down. Finally get to know the real you.

From there, we can really determine if his feelings were just a fluke or not. 

~

You were back at the hotel, wiping your makeup off and stripping yourself out of the formal dress. Your muscles ache at the new freedom, having been fed up with such a fitted dress and heels. After showering and putting on some pajamas, you got into bed and began to read. You were rewarded for your work with a one-night’s stay at the luxury hotel, and you were taking full advantage of it. 

After reading, you were going to order hotel service and then go to bed. The life of luxury that was more than enough for you. As you began reading the next chapter of your book, you heard a knock at the door. Sighing, you bookmarked your page, and answered it. You were surprised to see Ghost standing there, smelling like fresh maplewood and citrus soap. A plain shirt clung to his torso and pajama pants made him look like a new man altogether. He had his black facemask on still, but once he let himself in, he took it off. 

This was the first time you have ever seen his full face uncovered. You noticed the small scar on his upper lip that matched the one on his right brow. His jaw was strong as if chiseled from marble. You couldn’t deny it. Ghost was a very attractive man.

“Sorry to barge in like this. I said we were going to talk, so here I am.” He explained, taking a seat on the edge of your king bed. He was drinking you in too. The pajama shorts that showed off your thighs, the cami that exposed your delicate shoulders. Your hair was still damp and scented with lavender and vanilla. His heart picked up speed as he felt a pull of attraction to you. 

How could he have ever hated a beautiful thing like you?

You found it a little rude that he just barged in, but you let it slide for once. From his tone, he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Besides, those deep blues were starting to melt your icy heart little by little. Just for tonight.

You took a seat on the bed next to him and looked up. “What is there to talk about? He’s just a man from my past.”

At that, he felt his muscles tense. He knew that there was more to the story. Ghost detected your evasion of the subject as clear as day. It was something he experienced nearly every day before this. He knew your tell. “I know it wasn’t just that. What he said, how you looked. What happened?”

Out of all people, you least expected Ghost to hound you about this. He has never been interested in your personal life before. Then again, your relationship has changed dramatically since the night in the lab. Before you knew it, you started to feel yourself open up to him a little. 

You stared down into your lap. “He’s an ex. We were interns together, he took all the credit for a project we did, he got a job, and I didn’t. He insulted me, dumped me, and then left. I left to work in the military. That’s really all there is to it.”

While your tone tried to keep it casual, Ghost knew it was really a tragedy. No wonder you didn’t trust easily. Now he wished he broke that guy’s hand when he had the chance. 

Did he really have room to talk though? He made you distrust people even more easily when he first met you. It was about time he apologized for it all. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry. About everything. For the two years of fighting. All the insults, all the exclusion. Everything. I should have been a better teammate, lieutenant, and even friend to you. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say, a new trick of his that seemed to have worked time and time again. The tick of a classic clock filled the silence as you thought about his apology. The sound of him using your real name echoed in your ears. You blamed him for everything that transpired. And now he was sorry about it. Yet, the way he looked at you didn’t indicate the need for forgiveness. He wasn’t entitled to it, and he knew that. Instead, his gaze was filled with certainty. The certainty to do much better by you from now on. 

Two years to lead up to this moment. You never thought you would live to see the day. Just like him, you slowly found your rage for him melt down to almost nothing, instead to be replaced by something soft, warm, and electric. 

You gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be pretty unlikable.”

“You’re not unlikable.” He reassured, his hand naturally taking your cheek like he’s been doing it all his life. Ghost didn’t even realize that he did it at first. And before he knew it, he was going in for a kiss, unable to resist those pretty lips of yours for a moment longer. 

Your cheeks began to burn as he kissed you so suddenly, yet you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. Something was pulling you deeper into him. A passion that was always there from the beginning. Hate or love, you have always been passionate about Ghost. Maybe that was why you truly hated him in the first place. 

Ghost couldn’t stop himself, deepening the kiss with each second that passed, reveling in how sweet you tasted on his lips. He’s been obsessed with you since the beginning. A fire within him had always burned for you. He just wished he realized that it was actually love much sooner. Perhaps if he did, you really would’ve been Mrs. Riley tonight. 

All the things he hated about you before were things he loved about you now. Your soft lips, your silky hair, your amazing intellect. All of the things that he could never match. You were better than him. However, he didn’t care anymore. He actually appreciated it now. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” He whispered as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. You felt his firm muscles against you so much better now than before, the shirt he was wearing leaving little to the imagination with how fitted it was. 

It honestly turned you on. 

You took the initiative to reconnect your lips, your mouth opening to invite his tongue. Nerves fired off in every inch of your skin as his slick tongue met yours. Your toes curled as he felt you up, groping your thighs and waist like they would disappear any moment. His hands felt so good on you that you shivered, yearning for more. 

Things were getting out of control, but Ghost didn’t care. Tonight, he wanted you more than he has ever wanted anything from you. To appreciate all the things he was too stupid to notice before. You were sexy beyond belief. Always have been. When you were working over your desk with such a focused look, when you were gloating about your new invention, when you demonstrated a new gun so naturally in perfect stance. 

His pants tightened as his erection grew strong with each taste of your tongue. His hands roamed into your hair, gripping slightly to pull you closer. The both of you moaned when you ended up grinding against his hard cock. Once you got a taste for that, you couldn’t stop. Your hips grinded into his, sending earthquakes of pleasure through you. You could feel your panties get damper each minute as the makeout became even hotter and heavier. It wasn’t helping that it has been a while since the last time you had sex. It made you feel more sensitive than usual.

Finally, Ghost flipped you around and settled you back on the bed. He has never been so turned on in his life and you were the one doing this to him. 

There was something he needed to make clear first, though.

“I’m going to make you cum.” He promised, flashing you a determined look that had you weak. 

You blushed and averted your gaze, your voice low. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I’ll do it. No matter how long it takes. I’m going to be the first man to make you cum tonight.” He reassured, gladly ignoring your warnings as he leaned down to kiss your lips again. As he took control of your tongue, his hands began to explore your skin under the shirt. You were unbelievably soft under his fingertips, delicate from your lack of experience on a battlefield. He now loved that about you. You didn’t need to be in the throws of battle to be part of the team. 

“You’re so soft, you know that?” He praised, deep rumbles of his voice making your brain turn into mush as it entered your ears. His kisses traveled to them, making you shiver uncontrollably as he softly bit down. 

He chuckled, a sound that was once always reserved for his male teammates unless he was making fun of you. Now, they teased you so pleasantly that your breath hitched. “Someone’s ears are sensitive. You like having them played with?”

Just as you were about to answer, he slid his hand up to touch your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you jump. “Ahh~! Ghost!”

“Call me Simon.” He demanded, yearning for the sound of his real name coming from you. It would be the first time you would call him by his real name. 

You played with it in your head, noting how foreign it felt just sitting on your tongue. Nonetheless, you gave him what he wanted. “S-Simon. . .”

“Again.” He encouraged, suppressing a shiver that traveled down his spine. It was like getting a dose of the sweetest drug. Fireworks exploding in his chest. He loved how his name sounded on your lips. 

“Simon. . .” You sighed as he peppered kisses all over your neck. Your cami was now raised up to reveal your chest, kisses traveling further and further down to taste all of you. As much as Simon wanted to fuck you already right then and there, he had a promise to keep. He had to take it slow and let it build up. He had to make you cum first.

He took a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around before taking it between his teeth in a gentle bite. His other hand twisted your other nub between his fingers. The way he tweaked them hard sent waves of pleasure through you, all the way down to your cunt that was still soaking your panties. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You wanted more. 

Arching your back, you took your top off completely. Simon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and trailing his kisses down your stomach. As he felt your stomach on his lips, he buried his face deep into it. To think that he could’ve had this so much sooner if he was just nice to you from the beginning. “So soft. . .”

You squirmed a little under his slow, deep kisses to your body. No one has ever taken this much time on you before. All foreplay was pretty exclusive to your breasts or cunt with your previous partners. Simon was taking the time to appreciate your whole body. It felt so intimate. “Simon. . ?”

God, he loved it when you said his name. “Y/n?”

You were starting to like the sound of your name coming from him too. A blush swept across your cheeks. “You can be a little rougher.”

He smirked, this time making you tremble in excitement rather than rage. “Is that what you like? You like it a little rough?”

“I like the firmer sensation. Nothing too crazy.” You elaborated, always one to speak your mind even in a moment like this. If you were going to have sex with Simon Riley, if he wanted to make you cum, information like this was important.

Simon hummed against your skin, his hands working to pull off your pants. The vibrations made you sigh. Once your shorts and panties were off, he settled himself between your legs. Your dripping cunt was such a pretty sight. Pink, wet, and sweet. He bit the inside of your thigh, making you gasp in pleasure. “Like that? Is this what your previous partners did to you?” 

“N-No. . .” You admitted. Your previous partners never really listened to what you liked even if you told them straight-forwardly. At least not enough to get you to tremble like Simon did. It seemed like the man you hated before was really the best so far in bed. 

“Good. Their loss.” He murmured, biting down on your thighs soon after and leaving a deep love-bite. You bit your lower lip and whimpered, the sensation sending shockwaves. Simon kept going further and further down on you, relishing each time you moaned and quivered. He wanted more. He wanted to make you scream.

His lips latched onto your swollen clit, biting it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He tasted your nectar on his tongue, a taste that instantly made him addicted to it. You arched your back and grabbed his hair suddenly, silky soft strands feeling nice between your fingers. 

Just like he wanted, you moaned his name over and over again. His tongue kept lathering your clit firmly and with even strokes. Fingers prodded at your opening, spreading your wetness all over you until he was able to put two of his fingers inside. God, you were tight. 

“Ahh~! Right there, Simon!” You encouraged, your ability to speak your mind unwavering. Simone found that insanely attractive as he pushed his fingers in further and curled right at that spongy spot that was driving you crazy. His teeth pulled at your folds before being soothed with his tongue. Your clit twitched as he pressed his tongue up against it once more, all the while pumping his fingers into your soaked pussy. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter as he kept pushing you to the edge. The sensation made his own cock twitch under his clothes, making him press it up against the mattress to grind into. He wished it was your pussy he was grinding into already, but you were so close. He could feel it. You could feel it. 

He didn’t stop his pace. Strong, even, and slow. You tightened around his fingers each second, feeling the wave approach closer and closer. You could already tell that this was going to be a big one. Your first orgasm with a partner ever. 

Tilting your head back, you moaned louder and louder. You begged for more and more, praying to a god that Simon wasn’t just going to leave you hanging. Now that would be pure evil. The worst thing he could ever do to you. But he didn’t. He just kept nipping, sucking, biting, and licking to the point that your head was spinning. 

Before you could warn him, your vision saw white and you screamed. Simon could feel you suck in his fingers so tight that he smiled as he still landed kisses on your clit. Your legs trembled, aching to close or kick out the electricity that coarse through you. Your cum was spilling everywhere. All over his fingers down to his wrist, coating your thighs in a sweet glaze. 

While you tried to catch your breath, Simon licked up every drop. “How was that? Everything you thought it would be?

You looked down to see his eyes ablaze with victory and a sexy smirk on his lips. You sighed and nodded. “Credit where credit is due. That was really good.”

“Good. Because you’re not done yet.” He decided, already stripping off his pajama pants to reveal his rock hard erection. He was bigger than you expected, all that shit talk for two years making you believe that he was making up for something. But he was blessed with the girth, the length, and the look that you knew would be amazing.

He positioned himself between your legs, coating his length with your slick. Shivers started again as the tip rubbed against your clit. The both of you sighed, enjoying each other’s bodies to the fullest extent.

Suddenly, Simon pushed all of his cock into you, bottoming out within a second. You gripped the sheets tight in your fist as you cried out. He stretched you out so pleasurably, so fully. You’ve never felt so full in your sex life. 

Simon hissed as you clenched around him. “Fucking hell, you’re so tight. . .”

Slowly, he began to move. Long even strokes that rubbed every inch of you and him. As he looked down at you, face twisting into such a pleasurable expression, eyes only on him, he heard his heart beat in his ears. God damn, you were gorgeous. 

Your eyes widened as he came down for a kiss, his tongue taking full control while his hips remained steady. The sudden rush of the kiss and his cock reaching deeper made you scratch at his shoulders. He was eating up all of your moans like candy. 

“F-Fuck~! Simon, wait!” You begged, the sensation getting overwhelming with each deep thrust. He could feel you getting tighter. Wetter. He knew that you were getting close to another orgasm, and he wasn’t going to stop for a second.

He sat up and pushed your legs down by your thighs, spreading you wide open and making you take all of him as deep as you can. You clawed his hands as your climax approached even faster, Simon ignoring all of your cries for him to wait. The sounds of your wet sex echoed in the room along with your sensual moans, causing you to get even more aroused. Christ, his cock was so good!

You were plunged into an orgasm, your whole body quaking as you arched and screamed it out. Simon felt your pussy wrap tightly around him, trying to take everything from him before he was ready. It was dizzying how good your insides felt coiling around him. He loved how you soaked his dick and crotch full with your hot cum. 

Simon grabbed your thighs tight, squeezing hard and clenching his teeth while he tried to stop himself from climaxing too soon. He wanted to stretch this night out for as long as he could.

While you settled down from your second orgasm, you gazed up at Simon who was struggling to keep himself together. You lifted your arms and touched his strong, muscular chest that was shimmering in sweat. You could feel how hard his heart was beating under your fingertips. You could feel him twitch hard inside you, aching to fuck you again. Your body was weak, though. You didn’t know if you could last for much longer. Every nerve in your body felt like it was melting. “Si-”

“I know. Your body won’t stop shaking. Just until I cum, yeah?” He observed, fingers tracing your trembling curves.

At the idea of Simon cumming, your body regained new energy that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to see it. Feel it. You wanted to see your lieutenant crumble from the power of your body. “Fuck me then, Simon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. His hips went into overdrive, thrusting in and out of you with ease from all of your slick. You felt him hit that wonderful spot of yours that made you see stars over and over again, your body already on the edge once again. 

Simon picked you up off the bed and turned, settling you on his lap while he laid back. He didn’t relinquish any control, however. He just wanted to grope your delicious ass while he thrusted up inside you, hitting nice and deep. With the new view and new places to touch, he was losing his mind. 

You weren’t expecting this new position, but you didn’t reject it either. In fact, it felt heavenly. He hit that g-spot at just the right angle and you loved how he manhandled your butt so roughly. You liked how his eyes never looked away from your body, drinking it all in like the finest wine. From this position, you could feel his solid cock twitch inside of you.

Struggling yourself up, limbs feeling like jelly, you fell onto his chest, your tits pressing firmly into him. That sent him over the edge, his grip on your ass making his nails dig into your skin. Once you felt that first rope of cum enter you, you came for the last time.

Hot cum mixed together, making a mess out of the both of you. His chest fell and rose with heavy breaths, groans coming out with each rope he couldn’t hold back. Your tightening pussy wasn’t helping, milking him of everything to the point where he even felt tingles travel through him. Once he was finally done, he felt exhausted. 

You were exhausted too, your lungs struggling to regulate air flow. Your heart was beating so loud that it drained all other noises. Your body felt slightly numb from it all, your head getting fuzzy with each second. Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you both calmed yourselves. 

“That was. . .” He began, losing the right words to describe just how amazing that was. He’s had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never like this. No one could quite compare to you.

“Yeah. . .” You agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the afterglow take over. You felt the covers pull up over you, Simon still holding you on top of him, not willing to let go just yet. 

He could never imagine letting you go now. 

[onepiece-fics]

Sanji x picky eater!Reader

Description: Reader is a picky eater and doesn’t dare to tell Sanji. The chef, however, needs to get to the bottom of why you’re giving Luffy all your shrimp. Gender-neutral reader.

Word Count: 1187 

Warnings: Slight angst (mostly fluff though), Sanji is very flirty, mentions of difficult food habits.

Requested by anon<3

You feel bad about it, but as you sit by the dinner table you can’t help but pick at some of the food on your plate. Dinner for tonight was shrimp paella, cooked by the amazing chef himself. Of course, anyone who knew of Sanji knew how amazing he was at cooking, there was no question about it, but having been born a picky eater you felt immense guilt with how you felt about some of his food. You hadn’t even told him the things that you can’t bring yourself to eat, scared that he would take offense, or maybe even try to force you to eat it like so many other people had tried in the past. 

You tried to pick away the shrimp on your plate and focus on the rice and vegetables instead, but of course, knowing that it had touched the shrimp was enough to put you off. 

“Ah? Y/N? Are you not having your shrimp? Can I have it?” the enthusiastic captain asks you from across the table. You nod and with a blush on your face, you shovel off the shrimp from your plate to his. You notice Sanji looking at the two of you from afar, and not being able to read his face makes you nervous. Is he taking offense? Do you look silly? Is he gonna think you’re being childish? You sigh and continue trying to eat the rice and veggies on your plate. 

When dinner was done Sanji came to pick up everyone’s plates like he usually did but when he came over to you he gave you a look.

“Could you please stay for a while Y/N? I’d like to talk to you for a minute” he says, a slight smile on his lip but a confusing look in his eyes. You nod and stay in your chair as everyone else leaves. When you notice he’s moving to wash the dishes you rush up and silently offer him your help. He starts handing you the wet dishes to dry off and stack neatly. 

“Do you not like shrimp?” he says suddenly, breaking the silence between you. You tense up a little, unsure what to say.

“Uhm, yeah, sorry, I’m not really that big on seafood in general…” you say quietly. He stops what he’s doing and looks at you, eyebrows raised.

“Why haven't you told me, Y/N? I don't want to make you food that you won’t enjoy… I’ll happily modify your dinner for your tastes!” he gives you a big smile and your face heats up. “Wait… Do you also not like eggs? And… Broccoli? Oh, and the spinach!” he says, his fist hitting his palm like he finally understood something. Your face is fully flushed and it’s so warm you swear Sanji could actually cook a full meal on it at this point.

“I- I’m so sorry Sanji. I know I should’ve told you a while ago but-! I can be really picky with food sometimes and it’s like super embarrassing and I don’t want to be rude or insult your cooking- and I don’t want you to think I’m childish or something either. It’s just how my tastebuds work! I can’t help it but I’m really so sorry, I’ll try to learn to eat those things, I promise!” You ramble suddenly, catching the chef off-guard. He looks at you with big eyes and moves to put his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N…” he starts. “You don’t have to worry my dear, I know you would never intentionally be rude or anything. I have been worrying for a while that maybe my cooking skills had gone downhill… But this explains it all!” his hand moves from your shoulder to cup your cheek.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, everyone’s tastebuds are different and I totally get that. We all have things that we can’t stand to eat, if you just write me a list of things you don’t like I promise to make you the best food you can imagine, alright?” he smiles at you. You just stare at him in shock, a single teardrop falling from your eye which he quickly catches with his thumb. 

“S-Sanji… Are you sure it’s alright?” you ask him and he chuckles. 

“I’d much rather cook you food that you genuinely enjoy than keep feeding you things you just hand off to Luffy” he teases you. He pulls you in for a hug and kisses the top of your head. “I could never judge you Y/N, you’re way too kind to me for that” he whispers as you put your arms around him. 

Your emotions suddenly sweep over you and before you know it, you’re staining his suit with your tears. Even though you knew how kind Sanji was, a part of you thought that he was going to react the same way people had in the past. Far from everyone is kind to those who struggle with picky eating, no matter the reason for it happening in the first place. The fact that he was even offering to cook you your own personalized meals… You pull away from him, cringing as you see the wet spot on his shoulder from your tears.

“I’m sorry about that…” you sniffle and it makes him laugh. The sound of it brings you to a smile and you giggle with him. He takes one of your hands in his and raises your chin with the other one. 

“Now. No more being shy about food habits, alright?” his smile is dazzling and it leaves you breathless. You nod for a response and he smiles and leans closer to you. “I really mean it Y/N. If I get to cook extra food for such a beauty as you… It only brings me joy” he whispers. You bite your lip when you realize the position you’re both in. You leaning against the kitchen counter with him in front of you, leaning into you more and more. A blush spreads across your cheeks again and you gulp. You’re just about to lean up when– 

“Y/N!!!!” Chopper barges into the kitchen, opening the door wide open, scaring both you and Sanji shitless. He jumps off of you, hastily moving to do the dishes once again. “Usopp needs you! He’s convincing Luffy not to prank call the Marines! Please help us!” Chopper begs you. With your hand covering your blush the best you can, you look back at Sanji, a blush spread over his cheeks too, before giving a nod to the doctor.

“I- I’ll be right there Chopper! Steal the den den mushi if you have to!” you tell him. Chopper nods and runs back to wherever the captain is.

You look back at Sanji who’s shaking with laughter as he’s rinsing out a plate. 

“I’m expecting a note with all your least favorite foods by tomorrow” he tells you and winks. You nod and awkwardly move to leave the kitchen.

“Oh, and that note better include your favorite foods too, by the way. I want to make you only your favorite meals from now”. 

[yuri-is-online]

Well Maybe the Octopus was Being a Dick! (Or Tsunotarou tries to do Yu a solid but he misunderstood a joke)

A/N- I am so sorry this is my first post I swear I have real writing ON GOD- EDIT- Made a part 2 with the other guys (x)

Various x Reader

"Human courtship rituals are truly as bizarre as they are fascinating."  Tsunotarou muses as you fight with your sleep deprived brain to remember how you even got on to this topic.  Today hadn't been a good day, Grim had been in a bad mood, Trein had popped a quiz on you, and Deuce had somehow managed to land you both in detention because he screwed up a potion.  By the time you managed to drag yourself back to Ramshackle, you were so tired you were practically falling over, only to find Tsunotarou pouting outside your gate.  You didn’t really have it in you to tell him no, so you’d stumbled around the woods outside your dorm for a few moments talking about… courtship?  Apparently?  You could have sworn you were just talking about some anime Idia suggested you watch.  “I never would have expected watching fish to be such a fundamental step in one’s relationship."

“Yeah there’s a thing in my world about it too.”  you say thinking about a visual novel you’d played once (or was it thirty?) times.  “Some sort of bit about a date where you go to an aquarium and when your person points out fishes they like you jump into the tank to fight them for their affection.” You blink and Tsunotarou suddenly fills your vision, staring intensely into your eyes.”

“Child of man, are you serious about this?”  he asks, and you just blink in response.  You’re pretty sure you are missing something here.

“Uh, yeah?  It was pretty funny I guess.”  you say, extremely confused.  Tsunotarou simply nods with a look of utmost seriousness on his face.

“I see, how very interesting you are child of man.  Fear not, I will make sure you receive the courtship you deserve.”  The only response you can think to give is a blank stare, but Tsunotarou is already gone and apparently on a mission.

“Fully intends to do combat for your hand but gets too distracted”- Malleus

He really wants to do this the right way, if fighting the fish in the aquarium tank will show the extent of his devotion then beloved, you need only point at the offending article and it will be turned to cosmic dust.  But you’re just too ethereal in the aquarium lighting and he ends up completely forgetting his objective in coming here and follows you around like a love struck puppy the entire time.  Whoops, objective failed successfully.

"Claims to know it's a joke, fights anyway"-Jade, Leona

Look, he knows there's no way what Malleus is claiming is even remotely true.  Your world might not have any magic, but it sounds pretty “normal” by human standards.  Fighting fish for someone’s affection?  Un-fucking-likely.  Jade enjoys being a mild inconvenience to everyone around him and Malleus really has just given him the best excuse to be an absolute menace.  He’s responding to everyone’s complaints with a put upon sigh, lamenting what drastic lengths he has to go to for your affection.  Leona’s more the type to directly tease you about it; he shredded Azul’s contracts and left him a crying mess, that’s got to count as beating up a fish right?  He’s just waiting on your response, herbivore.  

“Shrimp heaven really is now!”- FLOYD        

Doesn’t even think twice about it.  He’s already obsessed with picking fights with strong people anyway, now you’re telling him he gets to beat people up and win shrimpy’s affection at the same time?  Floyd’s kicking up his feet and giggling a little too much for anyone’s comfort, almost like he’s misinterpreted fish to mean friends.  Please prefect, Ace is begging you, just give your eel some kisses so he knows you're already his or direct him towards some actual fish before they are fuCkING UNDER ATTACK-

“Claims to know it’s a joke, overthinks anyway”- Jack, Azul, Riddle    

Ok ok look, just hear him out on this one.  Some cultures do place a significance on ritual combat to win a prospective partner’s affection.  Sure he doesn’t THINK you come from a culture like that, but maybe you do and just haven’t mentioned it this whole time and that’s why his obvious not so obvious attempts at flirtation have gone over your head.  Because he wasn’t offering to fight fish for you.  No now that he tries to say that out loud it sounds even more ridiculous BUT WHAT IF- repeat ad nauseum until he timidly (Jack, Riddle), slyly (Azul) just asks you about it and can’t decide who he’s more embarrassed for: Malleus or himself.

“Brings you actual fish”- Trey, Rook, Ruggie      

He has enough of a head on his shoulders to realize Malleus is probably misinterpreting something that was meant to be funny, but hey, it’s given him an idea.  For Rook, the idea of hunting wild game to provide you with nourishment is an idea he’s toyed with more than once.  If Roi du Dragon deems him worthy of advice, the least he can do as an appreciator of beauty is take it.  Trey’s already a fan of puns and dad jokes, and he knows A LOT of ones about fish.  Probably invites you over to help him bake it with the excuse of prepping for an unbirthday party and shamelessly teases you the whole time.  Ruggie’s the only normal man here I’m sorry to say, he just gets the idea to take you fishing as a date.  He gets to spend time with you AND supplement his diet, it’s a win-win situation.

“COMPLETELY ignores the fish thing and rags on your sleep schedule”- Vil

He’s not mad, he’s just disappointed spudling.  Really you need to be taking better care of yourself, how else are you supposed to blossom into the beautiful flower he knows you are if you aren’t getting those full 8 hours honey?  Tells you to be thankful he isn’t being unreasonable while he’s waltzing through your dorm cursing every energy drink he can get his hands on.  He will brute force your circadian rhythm back into shape so help him GOD.

[zhongrin]

hold you close to my heart

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, xiao, al haitham, thoma, scaramouche

◇ tags ◇ modern!au, gn!reader, fluff, headcanon format

◇ a/n ◇ zhongli is ngl acting like an asian mom in this and i am not sorry. i need him in my life bc i hate fishbone (the number of times i've had a fishbone stuck in my throat- you don't want to know. let's just say pressing down my gag reflex is one of my talents now) and peeling shrimps.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

tries to be as quiet as possible as he shuffles around the house while you’re asleep.

peels fruits for you.

will care for your hair for you (brushes / applies oil / braids)

debones any sort of meat-with-bone/shell dishes, including fishes and crustaceans for you (this might be the ultimate expression of zhongli’s love considering how much he hates the smell of seafood).

will not hesitate to spoonfeed you when your hands are occupied or if you’re forgetting to eat.

“zhongli do you know where did i put my shawl-” “second drawer, right side.” “and my dragon-printed socks-” “-is in the sock box on the third drawer, you probably missed it.”

will threaten people who wronged you with a sandal in his hands “i will have order!”

headpat machine - you want headpats? you’re getting headpats. you don’t want headpats? you’re getting a kiss on top of your head…… and a headpat <3

will fall into the habit of carrying tissues and hair ties and the everyday essential items which you often use.

slips his credit card into your wallet before you go out.

keeps your fridge stocked with groceries and pantry full of your favorite snacks (either by doing the shopping himself or getting them delivered to your doorstep when he can’t be around)

lets you pet the dogs you encounter on your walks first. also alerts you when there’s a cute dog in sight.

owns a special phone with the best camera in the market, just for the sake of taking your selfies.

headpat machine 2.0 - you don't want headpats? too bad you’re getting one! you want headpats? beg for it first, darling <3

buys you matching accessories. wears them everywhere and every time he’s out.

always walks on the side closer to the road. also holds your hand when crossing the street (and pretends he 'forgot' to release it afterward)

always lingers around you in social settings. not just because of his social anxiety, but also just in case you need something, he wants to be there to help.

lets you pat his head (and enjoys it immensely), but will murder-glare any other person who tries to do so (read: venti, heizou).

is only able to fall asleep in either of these conditions: 1) he is completely alone, or 2) he’s not alone but you’re with him.

piles up pillows and blankets and plushies on your (or his) bed as a silent invitation to cuddle. you tease him by saying “are you inviting me to your nest, little bird?” and he blushes every single time. it’s very adorable. please give this boy his cuddles.

corrects the typos in your papers for you. crosschecks your citations and adds comments detailing how you should add or remove certain things. he accepts payments in kisses. or super spicy curry. he’s not picky, really.

will dust your bookshelves for you (is it because he loves you or because he loves books? ….. don’t ask).

will wordlessly lift you up to cross a big puddle on the road. you only get to be bridal-carried if you're lucky. otherwise, you're getting the sack of potatoes' treatment because he's a bastard.

tells you that you have x minutes left to do certain tasks. yes, he has your schedules memorized. yes, he will flick your forehead if you keep whining and procrastinating.

will gently pull your head to settle on his shoulder when you fall asleep on the bus.

“did you cut your hair? it’s five centimeters shorter.” “you trimmed your eyebrows?” “your lips look pale today. have you eaten lunch?”

cooks and cleans for you. his payment? your awed smile. if you tip him with kisses he’ll be over the moon.

sends you daily cute animal videos. mostly dogs. or cats. or him being silly with his adorable doggie taroumaru.

will mess up on purpose just to make you laugh on your bad days.

buys everything in twos because he always, always wants to share it with you.

squishes his cheek onto yours and nuzzles you to show affection. you think you see dog ears and dog tails whenever he does this, but it's just a trick of the light... right??

refrains from drinking at parties just so that when you do, he can take care of you properly and get you back home safely.

denies your kisses in public but pulls you for a kiss every five minutes behind closed doors.

links his pinky with you when walking together (but on his bad days, he would really appreciate it when you link your arms with him).

looks so scandalized when you flinch from his touch - because somehow he’s a superconductor and most of the time you feel zapped just from touching him. just tough it out and hug him if you don’t want to deal with sulky!mouchie.

will not hesitate to try and claw people’s eyes out when they made you upset.

fills up your water bottle for you.

uses the same laundry detergent / perfume as yours. claims that he does it so you “won’t complain about how your clothes smell weird” when you stay over. he just wants his clothes to smell more like you so he can pretend you’re hugging him when he misses you.

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[unkreativstermensch]

The porch lights are all turned off, so the glowing from the pool is the only thing illuminating the back yard, and it looks a little eery with the steaming water and the dark forest surrounding them. A little magical too. Like mystic healing waters in a hidden cave. He could see a mermaid surfacing, taking him with her on a new quest.

Huh. Maybe that would be a nice plot point for the next campaign.

Steve is sitting on the steps that connect the terrace to the pool area of the backyard, his back turned to Eddie. He’s smoking, judging from the low glow of a cigarette in the dark. Eddie hasn’t seen Steve smoke since like…his first senior year.

His back looks tense and if he heard Eddie opening the door and stepping outside, he doesn’t show it. Just keeps staring into the distance, hardly moving, only lifting his hand to his lips and taking a shaky drag of the cigarette. He seems anxious and fidgety and it sort of breaks Eddie’s heart.

He sits down next to him. Doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at him, just joins him there and stares into the distance too. Steve finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the floor next to him.

“You have really bad memories here.” Eddie states it more than he says it. “Upside Down unrelated.” He turns to look at him. “Right?”

Steve lifts his head a tiny fraction, his jaw tense. He looks over at Eddie. Breathes. Looks away again, breathes some more, eyes glued to the floor. Eddie can see tears forming in his eyes. He can also see Steve desperately trying to hide them, force them back.

It doesn’t work.

Then, giving up, Steve just nods.

“Yeah,” he says.

Eddie just watches him for a couple seconds, then redirects his gaze to the pool and shrugs. “I don’t think we should hang out here then.”

Steve immediately scoffs. “Try telling that to the kids.”

“Maybe you really should,” Eddie says after a pause. Steve’s expression turns a little confused.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “I tried. Were you not there?”

“No, I was,” Eddie confirms. “Which is how I know that you’re not really the best at standing up for yourself.”

Now Steve actually looks a little offended.

Eddie sighs. “Just…Look, I know you can’t say no to the little shrimps, but they love you. And if they knew how serious you are about not wanting to hang out here, I’m sure they’d stop pestering you about it.”

“What…what do you expect me to tell them, Eddie?”

Eddie shrugs. “How bout the truth?”

Steve looks at him like he just suggested to paint the moon in a dark shade of pink. “The truth?” he repeats and scoffs again, a little disbelieving this time. “Sure,” he then says, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Sure. Next time, I’ll just tell them the truth. I’ll just tell them, in as much detail as possible, about how my father beat me black and blue in every single fucking room of this house and had me scrub my own blood from the banister after he shoved me a little too hard, so, excuse me, if don’t want to spend more time than absolutely necessary here." His voice breaks. "But I just haven’t saved up enough money to move out because, guess what? Having rich parents isn’t all that great when they don’t give a shit about you.”

He tried to make it a big sarcastic speech, but he’s crying by the end of it and Eddie just pulls him against his side, holding him tight. Steve sobs into his chest, curling his arms around Eddie’s back, holding onto him and Eddie’s heart breaks more for him. The boy in his arms is so, so broken, and he’s way too good at hiding it.

“Well, maybe not in those words,” he whispers into Steve’s hair and tries to blink his own tears away, that come at the thought of Steve, soft, sweet, loving and caring Steve, being hurt and hurt and hurt again, by his own parents. And nobody being there to stop it, unlike his mother and Wayne were for Eddie.

Steve clings to Eddie and Eddie just presses him closer, won’t let him go until Steve decides to pull away, softly stroking his back, trying his best to give him comfort.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Steve,” he whispers and when Steve actually detaches his head from Eddie’s chest, pulls away a little and looks at him, Eddie can’t help but gently cup his face in his right hand and wipe one of the remaining tears away.

“S’not your fault,” Steve whispers and Eddie softly shakes his head.

“No, I know,” he says. “But it’s not your fault either.”

Steve takes a deep breath, dodges Eddie’s eyes again.

“I really think you should try talking to them again,” he then tries. Steve immediately turns defensive. “Eddie-”

“No, I just- I mean this is important, you can’t-”

“Eddie, I can’t-”

“You can’t let them just-”

“Don’t make me-”

“You can’t rely on Robin to fend for you all the time, I-”

“Yes, I can, she would-”

“Steve!”

“No, Eddie, what?” Steve looks at him, desperate. “I can’t do it, what do you- what do you want from me?”

He looks so devastated. Eddie pulls him a little closer with the hand still on his cheek. He looks at him. Bites his lip. “I want you to be alright.”

That seems to shut Steve up.

“I care about you, Steve. I care so much.” His left hand slowly reaches for Steve’s hand, grabs it, squeezes it tentatively. “Maybe...even a little too much.”

It’s as far into a confession as he’s gonna go, but Steve understands. Eddie knows. His eyes open and honest.

They’re just staring at each other. Steve squeezes back.

God, they’re so close.

“Do you wanna know one of the reasons?” Steve asks, eyes glassy, voice exhausted. Why is he even prettier, when he cries? It’s unfair to the world but even more unfair to Steve. It shouldn’t look good to be in pain.

“Reasons?” Eddie frowns.

“Why my dad…” Steve shrugs. “Well…why he…did it.”

When Eddie catches onto the words, he softly shakes his head. “Those weren’t reasons, Steve”, he says, his left thumb gently wiping the last remaining tear off of Steve’s cheek. “Those were excuses.”

Steve leans even more into Eddie’s touch and closes his eyes. He sighs. “Either way.”

Eddie waits until Steve opens his eyes again, looking at him expectantly.

“Why?”

Steve smiles, but it’s still sad. Eddie can see him swallow.

“Because of this,” Steve whispers, his left hand curling around Eddie’s. “Because I like kissing boys.”

For whatever reason, Eddie isn’t surprised. Not that Steve ‘likes kissing boys’ at least. He is surprised, however, at how similar he phrased it. For a second Eddie’s thrown back, to more than five years ago, when he, with tears on his face and an ice pack pressed against his busted lip, confessed to Wayne that maybe the rumors about him weren’t that wrong after all. That it wasn’t true when they called him gay or a fag, not fully at least, because he liked girls, he kissed one just last week and he enjoyed it, he did, he swore.

“But I just sort of…like kissing boys too.”

“Ed, my boy,” Wayne told him back then and pulled him into an awkward but warm hug. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Steve,” Eddie breathes and takes Steve’s face in both of his hands to make him look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Steve’s eyes are still glazed and he’s still so pretty it hurts and he slowly bites down on his lip, which- unfair, if you ask Eddie. So unfair.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks and it seems almost as if he’s not asking about the kissing thing anymore. Well, yes, but in a different context. His gaze falls down onto Eddie’s lips and Eddie has to take a sharp breath.

“Oh, I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Eddie replies, his voice barely above a whisper and Steve’s lips pull into a hesitant, soft smile before he shifts a little closer.

“So you…you won’t mind, if I-”

He’s cut off by Eddie kissing him. Steve melts into it, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair and pull him closer, the other fisting the fabric of Eddie's shirt. Eddie kisses Steve deeper, softly hums into it and he can feel Steve letting himself go.

Steve feels safe with him, Eddie realizes.

It almost makes him wanna cry.

When they break apart, they just stare at each other for a second. Still close, Eddie’s hands still cupping Steve's face, Steve’s still in Eddie’s curls and shirt.

“This,” Steve says, a little breathless, which- what? Eddie caused that? “This is certainly a good memory."

[akazzzaa]

concept: if all the demons, lower & upper moon and muzan were able to cook, what would they make & bring for thanksgiving, if they celebrated with their s/o?

Sorry for being late! I'm unfamiliar with Thanksgiving day so I tried to do some research to make it accurate, Not a lot of American style food will be included cause they are from japan, but they try

A/N- I'm no chef, I had to look for a lot of recipes that would be 'demonic' and thanksgiving too ?

Characters- Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Tamayo, Emnu

Summary- What they would cook for you on Thanksgiving

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None really just a mention on blood once

Muzan

Muzan knows languages and understands a lot of cultures from around the world. He is interested in how different counties have such different taste in food. All human food is gross to him but he is the only demon who can actually eat human food without throwing up. He only eats human food to blend in. A very good cook otherwise.

I think Muzan would likely choose a high-quality turkey and he might incorporate a deep red cranberry sauce that reflects his demonic side while still being suitable for a Thanksgiving table. Carrots glazed with a blood orange reduction could be a visually striking and flavourful side dish. For dessert, a dark chocolate pecan pie could be Muzan's choice for you, combining sweetness with a hint of darkness. For a drink, Muzan would craft a special cocktail with dark fruits, red wine, and a touch of something more sinister. blood

Kokushibo

Given that Kokushibo lived during the Taisho era in Japan, he might appreciate traditional Japanese cuisine. If he were to celebrate Thanksgiving with his significant other, he might choose to prepare a special Japanese meal with a touch of elegance. He knows nothing about American cuisine and doesn't care to learn about it. He's the one cooking. You are the one eating. If you don't like it, make it yourself. He didn't cook a lot as a human but he knows his way around a kitchen.

He would cook sushi rolls with fresh fish, vegetables, and perhaps some unique ingredients to showcase his culinary skills. Light and crispy tempura made with seasonal vegetables and shrimp, served with a flavourful dipping sauce. A delicate Chawanmushi (Steamed Egg Custard)with ingredients like chicken, shrimp, and ginkgo nuts, steamed to perfection. Skewers of grilled chicken, perhaps with a teriyaki glaze, showcasing a balance of sweet and savoury flavours. For desert, a unique dessert that combines the rich flavours of matcha green tea with the creamy goodness of cheesecake.

Douma

Douma is an amazing cook, just under Muzan, he has chefs that cook for the followers but he has cooked many dishes for people during his lifetime. He's unfamiliar with American food but he will try for you.

Douma might appreciate a unique twist on the traditional Thanksgiving turkey. The glaze could be made with blood orange juice, honey, and spices, giving it a rich and flavourful coating with Truffle Mashed Potatoes. Then Douma may choose a red wine reduction sauce to enhance the flavour of the meal and tie the meal together. Douma is better at baking but doesn't think humans should eat to much sweets. But today is a one off for you both, he would create a visually striking dessert, perhaps with dark chocolate and exotic fruits.

Akaza

Not a bad cook, has never cooked until he met you and he's gotten better at it. He respects you and your culture so he will want to cook a Japanese-American dish for you.

Akaza could marinate the turkey in a special teriyaki sauce infused with cherry blossom flavours, giving it a unique and sophisticated twist. Instead of traditional sweet potato dishes, Akaza might opt for sweet potatoes glazed with a miso-based sauce, adding a savoury and umami-rich element to the dish. Fresh green beans cooked to perfection and tossed with a sesame dressing, providing a crunchy and nutty complement to the meal. For dessert, Akaza might choose to make a matcha-flavored tiramisu, combining the traditional Italian dessert with a Japanese green tea twist. To accompany the meal, Akaza might select a high-quality sake, demonstrating his refined taste and appreciation for Japanese beverages.

Tamayo

Given her background and the fact that she is knowledgeable about herbs and medicines, she might prepare a unique and exotic dish that incorporates flavors inspired by her extensive knowledge. Perhaps she would create a dish with rare herbs and spices, combining them in a way that showcases her expertise.

Tamayo might infuse traditional Thanksgiving turkey with a Japanese twist by using a miso glaze. Miso adds a rich, savoury flavour that complements the turkey. A stuffing made with Japanese mushrooms like shiitake and maitake, along with chestnuts, could be a flavourful side dish reflecting Tamayo's expertise with herbs and ingredients. A selection of pickled vegetables, such as daikon radish and carrots, could serve as a refreshing palate cleanser between bites of the richer dishes. For dessert, a matcha-flavored treat like matcha cheesecake or matcha-flavored mochi could be a delight to the Thanksgiving feast. She has modified her body to drink human tea, so she will watch you eat all the food she cooked but the only thing you two can enjoy together is a cup of tea. And she makes a good cup of tea.

Enmu

Will give you food poisoning. Do not eat his food

[lyrenminth]

Could I request one for Justin similar to the Joe one, maybe where the reader is pregnant and has some bleeding or feels really unwell so they go to the hospital but the doctors made sure the reader and baby were okay ❤️ also would love some overprotective Justin once they go back home ! Thank you 😊

Protective Justin.

I love this request, and I love writing it. I hope you like it.

The fever started before dinner. You didn't want to say anything to Justin, because he has been so protective this past eight months about you, so didn't want to end up surrounded by wrap bubble paper.

During the dinner he made some shrimp pasta, and boiled potatoes. During the last month you were craving sea food so bad. Once you cried because you wanted fried shrimp so bad, Justin ended up going to the supermarket at midnight. It was a blessing your delivery was during the off-season. For the first time he skipped the OTAs, he would wait until it became mandatory.

You were craving the pasta until you had it in front of you. It was disgusting. Justin was already eating so eagerly that you held a deep breath and eat a fork of pasta. You grimace. "Is not good?" he asked looking a bit sad. "No, it's good. I'm not hungry" you sighed, and touched your forehead. Why was the chair moving? You tried to focus on your husband, blinking repeatedly.

"Oh my god, you're sick" the panic in his voice made your stomach hurt.

His worried expression made you try not to show any more signs of pain, but the headache was getting worse. You touched your swollen belly and patted it a couple of times. Hopefully, your first daughter with Justin would be born in May. It was something you both longed for so much.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. Getting up.

"No, I feel very dizzy," you lamented.

"Just dizzy?" He asked, forgetting about dinner and reaching for his phone.

"My head has been hurting,"Justin frowned and clenched his jaw. "Why didn't you tell me anything?" he demanded.

Your eyes started to fill with tears at his rude tone of voice. Justin shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, it's just that I worry about you." He apologized and approached to touch your forehead to see if you had a fever. He grimaced upon verifying that everything was in order. "Let's go to the hospital, this isn't normal," he said, helping you to stand up. You wobbled a bit but leaned against his chest. You moved as much as your pregnancy allowed. Suddenly, you realized that maybe something was wrong with the baby.

"Justin," you called out, scared, "What if something happens to the baby?" Justin pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. "Shhh, don't say things like that. Everything is going to be okay," but his posture and the way he dropped the car keys twice let you know that he was nervous too. During the drive to the hospital, you vomited. You could only hear Justin cursing under his breath, but he kept driving until you arrived at the hospital. Once inside, you were half-conscious; the world was spinning, and you felt awful. "She started feeling worse a couple of hours before dinner, maybe around five. No, she's not allergic to anything. She's eight months pregnant. She told me she had a headache and felt dizzy. No, I don't know," you heard his desperate voice, and it touched your heart to have such a caring partner.

An hour had passed since you were admitted to the hospital. Justin was fidgeting with the car keys, trying to keep the panic he was feeling at bay. "Please, be okay, please be okay," he murmured. Maybe all the traveling took its toll, you didn’t get much rest, and perhaps being alone for most of the pregnancy didn’t help. He felt guilty for not being more present, for being a bad husband and now a bad father. He called his mother to inform her of the situation, and she kindly listened to him cry for fifteen minutes. Then he called Mitch, who, with his medical knowledge, explained the possible scenarios but reassured him that everything would be fine and that he would have to wait for the doctors' response. The mere idea of losing you made him feel sick, the worst nightmare he had ever imagined. The idea of losing both you and the baby was his worst fear. He couldn’t bear it. When he realized how negative his thoughts were, he started looking at your photos, feeling that everything would be alright.

The doctor and a nurse came out.

"Mr. Herbert?" He stood up as fast as lightning. The doctor had to crane his neck to see him. "Mrs. Herbert and the baby are fine." the doctor informed, Justin felt the weight on his shoulders lighten just a bit. "Her blood pressure was extremely high, but we managed to stabilize her, and she is under observation." Justin nodded, feeling the rock in his stomach grow smaller. His lower lip trembled. "Can I see her?" The doctor smiled and nodded. "She’s a bit drowsy but conscious." The nurse led him to the room where you were. Seeing you, he broke down in tears and came closer to kiss you and your swollen belly. "Thank God you're okay. I love you," His reaction surprised you because Justin wasn’t very emotional, but he must have been very scared. "My God, I don't know… the doctor said your blood pressure was extremely high. If I remember correctly, that's very dangerous," he continued crying, and you had to console him a bit. "I'm sorry, it's just… I was really scared," he confessed like a small child, all teary and red. "I can't imagine a life without you and without her," he said, touching your belly again. "It's okay, I'm here," you consoled him.

He took your hand and squeezed it slightly. "How are you feeling?" he wanted to know. You sighed wearily, "I feel tired, but happy that everything is okay." He nodded. "What can I do for you?" he asked, feeling lost. "I'm very hungry, but the doctors don't want me to eat until my blood pressure drops to 90." His beautiful green eyes kept watching you with utmost attention. He was assessing you, making sure everything was alright. "But I'd like to change into something clean, I think I peed myself a little," you confessed. He smiled and nodded, grateful that you gave him something to do. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

Back home, Justin wouldn't let you do anything. Going down the stairs? He had to be there. Playing with Nova? No way. Watching TV shows that made you feel too emotional? No, no baby shows. He made sure to check your blood pressure every day at the same time and that you took your prescribed medication. More than once, you rolled your eyes at his concern, but you understood that you had given him a scare, so you took a deep breath and accepted the attention. It was hard for him to hand over the reins to your mother when he had to return to the Chargers' offices, but he sent you messages daily. "Justin, I'm going to be fine. I'm strong, your daughter is strong. I need you to believe that, okay? You need to focus on the new season." He would just press his lips together and say, "Of course you are," but he still kept an eye on you. He was stubborn, but so were you. And that's why you loved him.

Remember you still can send your request or ideas for fanfiction!

[galraluver]

Royal greetings honey, (sorry) it's me again

It's 2 a.m., and I had a crack-idea: do you know these period belts that simulate period cramps??? How would galran men react to the pain?

Imagine some merciless, strong warriors laying on the floor like a shrimp, I'm crying

Thank you darling, good night!

Oh yes, I know what they are. I've watched a few videos of men trying them and it's hilarious 😂. I would be happy to write your request 😁

_________________________________________

~ Throk ~

~ Every month when you get your period Throk scoffs when you're in pain; he doesn't necessarily mean it in a mean-spirited way, but he doesn't see how you can be so affected by what he thinks is just a little pain

~ After a couple of months of him downplaying your pain you buy a period cramps simulator from the space mall

~ Throk scoffs again when you challenge him to see if he can stand feeling how much pain you go through, luckily he's always up for a challenge

~ Before you two start you try it on yourself to see what setting is closest to what you experience every month

~ Then it's Throk's turn to put the little patches on his lower abdomen

~ He really does think that the pain won't be all that bad, galra are capable of withstanding all kinds of pain

~ *cue to Throk laying on the couch looking like he can withstand anything*

~ You start off with the first two settings which aren't so bad, Throk still has a cocky grin on his face thinking he's right about you overreacting every month

~ That's when you turn the dial up to the setting that matches your monthly cramps

~ Throk practically yowls in pain when he feels how bad it is, he's never felt anything like it before

~ He's never felt so much pain in his lower abdomen before and while the controls are on it doesn't end, instead it keeps coming in what he can describe as waves

~ He nearly rolls off of the couch in the process, thankfully he doesn't because he doesn't want the little wires to get damaged

~ Tries to keep a straight face after that but fails, Throk is willing to tough it out even though he wants to curl up in a ball and cry

~ However, as soon as you turn the dial up to the highest setting Throk begins to actually cry because the pain is so bad

~ He curls up into a ball as much as he can because he wants to find a position that eases the pain just a little bit; he doesn't find one, though

~ How are you able to survive such pain? And every month? He legit feels bad for criticizing you for something you can't control

~ Needless to say Throk has way more respect for you after he feels what you go through every month and he never complains again, instead he takes care of you every time you get your period and makes sure you're as comfortable as possible

__________

~ Ranveig ~

~ It's no secret that Ranveig's one of the toughest galra commanders in the entire galra empire, it's why he's in charge of one of the most dangerous territories, although because he's so powerful he thinks that he can withstand anything

~ He doesn't necessarily downplay your pain when you're experiencing period cramps, although he's definitely thought that you were overreacting during some of your worst periods

~ When you both come across a period cramps simulator at the space mall you decide to buy it so that you can see if your significant other can actually experience cramps without being affected

~ Ranveig agrees to try it the next day because he doesn't think it'll be so bad, little does he know what he's about to experience

~ You try it out first the next day so you know what setting is closest to what you feel on a monthly basis

~ Ranveig sits on the couch when you stick the little patches to his lower abdomen; he looks so confident and you're ready to bring him to his knees

~ He doesn't feel the first two settings but he feels a little bit of the third one and says it tickles

~ That's when he gets cocky and subtly mentions how human women are weak

~ You get angry and turn the dial up to the highest setting without warning him first because you're pissed, if he thinks that human women are weak for suffering from period cramps then he has another thing coming

~ Ranveig's eye widens and he actually squeals when he feels the pain rippling through his lower abdomen in waves, he never expected the pain to be that bad

~ Believe it or not you actually bring Ranveig to his knees, he slides right off of the couch so he can sit with his legs folded beneath him while he slouches in pain

~ He can't even talk because the pain is so bad, he legit regrets saying what he said

~ Like, imagine Ranveig curled up while failing to work through the simulated version of the worst period cramps in the entire universe

~ When you think he's had enough you turn the dial to zero and kneel down in front of your large boyfriend/husband

~ Ranveig apologies as soon as he catches his breath, then he admits how wrong he had been for thinking period cramps weren't painful

~ From then on Ranveig has the highest respect for human women, he believes that anyone who can go through all that pain, bleeding and other highly unpleasant symptoms must have some kind of incredible power

__________

~ Branko ~

~ Branko can be pretty cocky and thinks that he can handle anything, but unlike Throk he doesn't downplay your pain every time you get your period

~ However, he doesn't think it's all that bad and that he could easily handle it

~ That's when you order a period cramps simulator; if your significant other thinks that he can handle period cramps then you want him to prove it

~ Branko thinks it's cute and kind of hilarious when you dare him to try the simulator, since he thinks that he can handle it he humors you by agreeing

~ He has to wait for you to read the instructions and try it out so that you know which setting comes closest to what you experience every month, then you detach the patches from your lower abdomen and stick them on his

~ He barely feels the first two settings, although he starts to feel a little something by the time you turn the dial to the third

~ Branko wonders why you make such a big deal about your monthly cramps until you turn the dial up to what your cramps are like when you get them

~ You smirk as he grits his teeth together and assures you that he's fine even though he's obviously in pain

~ Since you sort of get satisfaction from proving your point you slowly turn the dial up a few more notches

~ Branko can tell that you're enjoying yourself; he's kind of proud, but at the same time he's in more pain than he originally thought he'd be in

~ The sudden burst of pain at the beginning was a whole new sensation to him, although the way the cramps increased with each turn of the dial had him writhing in pain on the couch

~ By the time you have the dial on the highest setting Branko is forcing himself to stay seated on the couch while tears spill down his cheeks, he never imagined that human women could experience such pain

~ In the end Branko learns his lesson and thinks that all human women are tough in order to be able to deal with their periods every month

~ After the whole ordeal he needs a few minutes to recover; in the future he makes sure to take care of you better when your period comes, it's the least he can do as your boyfriend/husband

__________

~ Lotor ~

~ Lotor understands that people of every species has to deal with some kind of reproductive organ related bodily function at some point during their lives, so naturally he knows you're not overreacting to your period cramps

~ In order to better understand what you go through every month Lotor orders a period cramps simulator

~ When Lotor proudly tells you about his most recent purchase you're a little speechless; on one hand it's sweet of him to want to understand what you go through, but on the other hand you feel bad for what he's about to experience when it comes in

~ On the day the package gets delivered to his ship he puts Acxa in charge while the two of you head straight to the habsuite you both live in

~ His generals already know all about the period cramps simulator, so they know not to disturb you and Lotor

~ Lotor thoroughly reads the instructions before you test it out first, that way you know what setting is closest to what you go through every month

~ When it's Lotor's turn you stick the patches on his lower abdomen and stand in front of him, and you make sure that he's ready before you turn the dial on its first setting

~ Lotor's body jerks and he lets out a loud gasp when he feels the first twinge of pain, he assures you that he's fine though

~ You apologize and asks him if he needs to to stop, but Lotor reassures you that he's fine

~ As you slowly turn the dial up to the level that matches your monthly cramps you notice how your significant other is on the verge of crying from the pain

~ Lotor's never experienced pain in such a way before, he respects you even more now than before, and he's always respected you

~ The way the pain wracks through his lower abdomen and the surrounding areas has him gritting his teeth and squeezing his knees as he tries to keep himself upright

~ He doesn't even make it to the highest setting before he has to stop, the waves of intense pain are too much for him to bear

~ Cuddles are ensured aftwards; Lotor always cuddles with you when you have period cramps, so you do the same to comfort him after he experiences them for himself even though they were only simulated

~ Lotor decides to use the period cramps simulator as an interrogation tool in case he ever needs it, that way he doesn't have to result to violence to get the answers he needs if the situation ever presents itself

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 4 Shrimp and Strudel 

Welcome back to the Report Card where we’re gonna waste no time with just getting into it as the last ep ended on a big cliffhanger. 

We pick up where we left off–Kristen talking to Cass who is petting Kalina–currently in her cat form and claiming that she’s not bad anymore (with a verbal “meow” which is so unsettling/funny). Kristen isn’t buying it but it’s not a crazy claim. If Cass is bad, she should be bad and if Cass is good, likewise. 

Good or bad, she is still very eyes on the prize and immediately starts grilling Kristen on what her plans are as Cass’s sole cleric–a fair question considering she’s all that stands between Cass (and Kalina by extension) and oblivion. Cass tries to keep the peace between her familiar and her cleric and even gives Kristen an out: she’s gotten invitations to quit being a god and be an archfey of the Autumn Court instead. But Kristen doesn’t seem to want to take it. She says she does believe in Cass but she’s kind of hard to evangelize for because her whole deal is a hard pill to swallow even if it’s more true and deeper than the certainty other religions provide. Kalina’s eyes narrow and she says that Kristen’s a shitty saleswoman. 

Kalina instead wants to go with a pitch of, “Hey? Do you wanna wield sick ass night magic and crush your enemies?” Which Kristen thinks is kind of a betrayal of Cass’ whole ethos. Kalina thinks they can quibble over details once Cass has more than TWO followers (shoutout Craig) and Cass on one level gets where Kristen is coming from but on a deeper level REALLY doesn’t wanna die. She says that their plans aren’t actually conflicting and they can work on both of them! She asks Kristen when she has the bandwidth to talk about this and Kristen is like, right now! All she cares about is Cass…and her campaign. Kalina is clearly so over this and reminds Cass that though they can’t actually go to the material plane, there are places they can talk to mortals outside of the material plane like the Synod of Spyre (wizard hub where they incidentally just put in a new mall!). Wizards like magic and mystery and stars, right? Cass is all about all of those things! It’s an untapped market! 

A plan is set for them to head to the mall over the weekend and Kristen sincerely apologizes for dropping the ball and hurting Cass’s feelings. Cass tells her that she doesn’t need to be sorry, that she’s there for her when things are uncertain, and that she believes in her. She kisses Kristen on the forehead and sends her back to school. 

At lunch, Adaine tries to call Aelwyn but gets her answering machine. Aelwyn texts to ask what’s up (she’s in class “looking after bozos”) and Adaine says she’ll call her later. She texts an “I love you” and then deletes it, causing a torrent of divination spells to come in as Aelwyn tries to figure out what the deleted message was. 

Before Fabian heads to lunch, he has a banking interlude with his banker at KVX (Alston) who tells him his trust is worth 20 million gold and he gets an allowance of 5k gold a month. Rich as he is, Fabian is staggered by the amount of money and asks if there’s a way to cash it all out now. Alston says that due to a clause left by his dad (meant to encourage him to forge his own path), he can cash out 2 million but then the rest would go to his various nemeses (with a small cut to the bank). They apparently have a whole department just for tracking the nemeses of their clients. Chungledown Bim is listed as one of Fabian’s nemeses so he immediately shuts down talk of cashing out. Chungledown Bim with 18 million gold? Terrifying. Alston offers Fabian a free trial of Nemesis Alert which lets you know if anyone on your planet has sworn vengeance on you but Fabian declines, having the foresight to know that he’ll forget to cancel. 

Once everyone is at lunch, Riz uses the Message cantrip to tell everyone that Kipperlily Copperkettle (KP) was spying on them and overheard them talking about Kristen’s god dying. They look around to check if she’s spying on them right down and don’t see her but, on a Nat 20, Fabian senses…something. He immediately signs up for that free trial of nemesis alert and is told that no one has sworn vengeance on him in the last 30 days (but what about before that Alston???? What about before 30 days ago?????). Adaine turns on her wizard feature that lets her see invisibility and walks around the cafeteria, but doesn’t clock anyone. 

Gorthalax shows up to hype up the boys for Bloodrush tryouts later in the day and Fabian asks about the Rat Grinders. Gorthalax says that their Barbarian (Mary Ann) is trying out later and offers to tell them where the name comes from. It’s just what we speculated last week. These posers are literally level grinding! They’re farming XP by going to the woods just outside of school (Where the week 2 freshman go to practice) and killing rats, spiders, and twig gremlins. They made it to Junior Year by just killing rattatas on route 1! Apparently, they do this for 3 hours at the end of every day and 9 hours every weekend. Riz is HISSING with rage at how against the spirit of the rules this is. But here’s the thing. Grinding low level monsters to get this far is very uncool. But the focus it takes? Kind of impressive. And that thought strikes Riz through the rage. 

After lunch, Gorgug goes to talk to Henry Hopclap (gnomish Artificer teacher with the same last name as the Rat Grinder bard btw). He sees an equation on the board and tries to have a Good Will Hunting moment but ends up just trying to solve for Henry’s email address and phone number. Minor mathematical blunder aside, Henry tells Gorgug that he actually approved his MCAT, but Porter had the last word. He tells Gorgug that he doesn’t actually have to be an Artificer in a school sanctioned capacity just because he’s passionate about it. He can just do it on his own time. But Gorgug is determined so Henry tells him that there’s technically another way: he can take three years of Artificing at the same time and withdraw from Barbarian classes. 

I took psychic damage from hearing that and I took even more when Gorgug decided to do that AND take Barb classes (which Henry says that he can do but he has to run that by Porter). 

Though Henry is way more supportive than Porter, he still tells Gorgug that this is gonna be an uphill battle. Junior Year artificing is already very hard and there’s never been a Barb/Art multiclass at Aguefort before. Like Porter, he says that he doesn’t really see how the passion you need to be a good Barbarian and the dispassionate focus you need to be a good Artificer mesh together, but he’s rooting for him. The other students filter in and, based on how well equipped they are, it seems like our boy has a lot of catching up to do. 

Meanwhile, Fabian gets the other half of his MCAT paperwork signed off by his Fighting teacher (Corsisca Jones who looks a LOT like Aabria who played her younger sister Antiope Jones in The Seven) with barely any conversation or pushback about it. Must be nice! 

During a break period, the Bad Kids are hanging out on the quad. Riz and Kristen work together on Kristen’s paperwork and his applications for as many clubs as possible while they both down coffee. Fig is trying to see if she can figure out where in time the fossils Ayda sent her are from so she can send a message but she’s beaten to punch when a weary knight from “Order of the Sacred Scroll” shows up with a message his order has protected for 1500 years. One that he killed his brother for peeking at. One that he’s devoted his life to. Fig opens it up and it’s literally just a “Love you, Miss you,”  postcard from Ayda. 

Porter (who we learn loves Fig despite the fact and honestly largely because of the fact that she hates him and he appreciates a good rage) shows up and Gorgug goes to tell him that he’s going to triple down on his classes. His friends say that he’s really smart and he can handle it. Porter says that he’ll let Gorgug do it if one of his friends audits the class with him to help him and Fig happily agrees.

After school, Aelwyn calls Adaine and we learn exactly what kind of teacher Aelwyn is as she says that she got sent to the principal’s office for making some of her students cry. Thank you for letting her stay in Elmville, Brennan. Anyway, Adaine rattles off the list of insanely expensive things she needs for class and Aelwyn suggests some solutions: (1) They can find and kill their mom in order to inherit, (2) they can sell drugs, (3) they can sell weapons, (4) Adaine can maybe…get a job? Adaine doesn’t know how to get a job and asks Aelwyn how she got hers. Apparently, she blackmailed the principal. With what, asks Adaine. Photographs Aelwyn says with a coy smile and Adaine requests that Aelwyn not enlighten her any further. Adaine laments the fact that she had to give up all her dragon madness gold and then signs off with a verbal “I love you” that she tries to take back. Aelwyn pounces on it like one of her five cats. “I heard you say it!” she says with a villainous laugh. “I win. You've exposed yourself to me.” She hangs up and, once again, Brennan, thank you. 

We cut to Bloodrush tryouts where Fabian gives an honestly really good speech to the team and prospective recruits (tres Jammer). Riz is also at tryouts because, remember, he’s trying out for literally everything. We see a drow student (Hexblade Warlock Max Durden) give a really good showing and Riz give a not so great performance. Then, Mary Ann Skuttle shows up–the Barbarian of the Rat Grinders who’s this tiny kobold girl with aesthetic, kawaii plushies on her backpack. None of that energy is on her face though and she seems very unenthused to be there, answering all questions with short, monotone answers. On the field though? She’s a monster. She absolutely bodies Gorgug, sending him flying across in the field in a way that no one has before (Brennan says that he needed to beat a 33). And she didn’t even get a running start! Gorthalax is thrilled to get her on the team so that they can finally beat their rivals (the Hellions). Riz uses one of his gadgets to cast detect magic and sees that she was buffed with magic (but that’s not illegal in Bloodrush). Gorthalax breaks the news to him that he didn’t make the team and he just runs to the next club on his list. Gotta pad that resume! 

After school, Kristen meets up with Bucky who has a lot of the same energy she had on her first day. He’s a Helioic Paladin as we suspected and he’s been telling people they’re going to hell. Kristen doesn’t *love* that but she does tell Bucky to campaign for KP while he’s proselytizing to try to poison the waters a bit. Bucky says that he really misses her and that he hasn’t told their parents about all the gold she sent. Kristen tries to convince him that maybe the concept of hell they grew up with isn’t real, but that’s hard to argue when two separate devils (Fig and Gorthalax) are literally in the room with them. Bucky recognizes the Rat Grinders symbol on the pin Kristen gives him and says the new Helioic cleric from Highcourt (who their parents love) has one of those. We don’t get any more info from him though because Kristen drops an F bomb in front of him and he runs away like a scared puppy. 

Fabian drops some hints that he’s lonely in his big empty house so the gang heads to Seacaster Manor for a study party. They Doordash some pad thai and Adaine gets a text from Aelwyn which has a link to job listings at the Synod mall. On a pretty low Investigation check (6) she finds an ad for a place called Oodles of Strudel that pays 2 silver a day and doesn’t require a resume, just an interview.  

A lot happens during this study party so I’m gonna go through it rapid fire:

Kristen tells everyone that Kalina is back. 

Riz learns (as a residual part of his 30 Investigation roll from last ep) that party comp is announced at the end of their first day and if it changes (ie: someone leaves the party or dies) everyone else goes pass/fail which excludes them from extra credit which would exclude them from scholarships and such. So everyone has to stick together and not die!

Adaine goes to the Synod mall and interviews with a dude named Biff at Oodles of Strudel (where they pump strudel in from a strudel dimension because sure). She gets the job! Though idk if that’s worth celebrating because it’s 8 hour shifts and she has to work the night shift because of school. 

Fabian texts Mazey and determines that if he’s going to be a maximum legend like he wants, he has to host a party on the first weekend back and he’s committed. 

Fig, shockingly, goes to class AGAIN. It must have been cut from last episode but she learned that warlock classes meet at night and decided to check them out. The teacher is a hot vampire lady with a celestial paramour patron so Fig is like, all in right away. Not only that, she rolls a Nat 20 to catch up and it turns out that, as we already know, when she’s dialed in, she’s really good at this stuff! Plus, warlock is a charisma class and she has charisma for days. With warlocks it seems like it’s all about paperwork but really it’s about relationships, bargains, and exchange. As Zara tells Fig after class is over, these are things that everyone deals with every day, the power is just more potent when the bargains are struck consciously. Zara says she’ll approve her MCAT if she wants and Fig, eager to avoid work on her Sophomore album and genuinely taken by the class, agrees. 

Ragh shows up at the manor and Adaine asks how Tracker is doing. He says she’s doing great and the four months of night were honestly great for her whole situation as cleric of the moon goddess. Kristen GRILLS his ass about the “bitch on her lap” on her socials and Ragh (who was supposed to let Tracker break this news but cracks under Kristen’s manic energy) says it’s her new girlfriend, elven princess Naradriel–Nara for short (another girl with a dog name Kristen laments as though her first girlfriend isn’t named TRACKER). Ragh says Nara has been trying to have Tracker and her go Facebook official for a while and that photo she saw was her compromise. Kristen gives Rgh the go-ahead to tell Tracker she can reach out. Ragh says she’s cooler than Nara and he’s rooting for her. 

And that’s about it! The next week is hella busy for the whole crew. School crashes down on them like a tidal wave. There’s their actual classes, extracurriculars, and the campaign which everyone is super invested in. They recruit Torek Railgrinder (skater dwarf in the LGBT club and Drama club) to build a ramp off Fabain’s roof so Kristen can ride it off his roof into the pool which he will have filled with tartar sauce because it’s going to be the Ultimate Shrimp Party obviously. The party planning is also in full swing and EVERYONE is invited. That includes freshmen, Hudol kids, even cool middle schoolers. Ragh is buying them beer. The idea is that they can two birds this and make Fabian a Maximum Legend and Kristen super cool at the same time so people will vote for her. 

(Also, this doesn’t matter to the plot but Kristen gives a campaign speech at a steel mill for some reason–like a steel mill with adult workers–where Kristen is injured by a buzzsaw and Fig is once again questioned by Agent Clark (who she throws off the scent by saying Wanda left for the Red Waste). Not plot relevant but I HAD to mention it for the sake of posterity.)

But we quickly see the seams start to show. Fabian is forced to skip Bloodrush practice so he can set up the party. Adaine gets the new work schedule and sees that she has to work during the party. She texts Fabian that she has to work but she’ll show up later and doesn’t get a response back. Then she texts everyone else to ask if Fabian is mad at her. 

We follow Adaine to work where she’s met by none other than Kalina (in tabaxi form) who is there handing out pamphlets with Cassandra. She asks if Kristen is on her way and Adaine doesn’t know what she’s talking about. As far as she knows, Kristen can’t even get to the Synod without her help. Kalina asks if she can go grab her but Adaine says she’s at work and she can’t just leave. 

Back at the Manor, Kristen gets a brain ping from Cass who asks Kristen if she’ll be there soon. Kristen is full deer in headlights–she didn’t realize that she was supposed to be helping with that. She thought she was Team Material Plane and they were Team Synod. (And, in fairness to her, in this instance I understand how she could have thought that if the only conversation they had about this was the one that we saw but wild that they wouldn’t check in day before when Cass can talk in her mind) She quickly tries to finesse the situation and claims that with such a big crowd gathered, she’ll be able to spread the word to tons of people. Cass is briefly excited until she sees through Kristen’s eyes that her supposed recruitment drive is actually an Ultimate Shrimp Party. 

Back at the mall, Adaine watches red light burst through Cass’s chest as she cries out in pain and collapses to the ground. At Kalina’s behest, Adaine texts Kristen to get her ass to the mall right away. The non-Adaine Bad Kids try to make a plan to save the party–maybe Fig can do the shrimp jump disguised as Kristen–but the situation at the mall gets more dire. Cassandra, still in agony, yells, "This isn't fair!" She bleeds indigo and the light from her chest sails out and hits a nearby wizard. That wizard grows crazed and buff and kills his friend by smashing his skull open with his quarterstaff. Kalina is horrified. Adaine is horrified. The other mall patrons are horrified–the ones who aren’t getting possessed at least. Cass is on all fours, growing larger, and there are three more of those red light things coming out of her.

Adaine, who now has a special Synod key as an employee, opens a portal so her friends can join her. Everyone (including a kind of reluctant Fabian) joins right as the portal Adaine closes and that’s it for the ep! Next week, showdown at the Synod! 

Honor Roll

Kalina for Having Cassandra’s Back 

I never thought I’d give this to her but who else is looking out for Cass like Kalina right now? Nobody. I felt so bad for her handing out pamphlets at the mall. I’ve had to do that and it’s NOT fun. I’m glad she has someone sticking up for her and diligently looking out for her interests, even though it’s someone who I referred to as “the bitch” last week, lol. 

(Honorable mention to Fig for honestly being a great student. Way to go girl, you might just graduate yet.)

Detention 

Aelwyn for Blackmailing the Middle School Principal with Photographs To Get A Job

This is entirely affectionate. Also, unlike Adaine, I’m curious about what the level of blackmail is that allows you to strongarm your way into a job but still subjects you to being reprimanded by the person you’re blackmailing. 

((Dis)honorable to Fabian for his rich boy shenanigans which I touch on below.)

Random Thoughts

“Meat mama”

Insane that KVX Bank still exists and they literally just changed their logo from red to blue.

Was anyone else getting Berries and Cream vibes from the new lunch lad? (if you know, you know)

Fig got hurt yet again in this episode and stuck her hand in construction putty. Last episode I called out that both mishaps so far had involved construction equipment but now we’re officially out of two nickels territory and into rule of threes. Brennan, what are you playing at?

She also got food on herself twice (creamed corn and pad thai) and mimed eating it both times. Emilyyyyyyy grossssssss. 

Fabian got the confirmation that no one has declared him as a nemesis for the past 30 days but I would have asked for a full list. We know they have one because CDB is from like a year ago at least. 

I thought it was odd that Henry said that what was needed for artificing was “dispassionate focus” when I feel like a lot of people I know who tinker irl are actually intensely passionate about what they do. 

As a side note, Henry said that Porter couldn’t stop Gorgug from tripling down while taking Barb classes–just that he wanted Gorgug to tell him as a professional courtesy. So I’m not sure why Porter was able to attach a condition to Gorgug’s being there. 

Porter’s, “God this sucks” when Gorgug started talking about his feelings was extremely unprofesh but objectively funny. 

Actually, roundup of all the funniest parts of this episode:

1)The entire Adaine and Aelwyn conversation but especially (1) The bit about Fig being attached to Ayda’s feathers, (2) Photographs :), and (3) Jawbone no-selling her sinister flirting followed by her immediately moving out. 

2)Bloodbath and Beyond

3)Adaine not wanting to use a ladle at her job because of the Trauma (™) from Freshman Year (RIP Doreen). 

4)Fabian nodding knowingly when Adaine talks about killing her dad like it’s a normal, relatable experience. 

5)“What's the drinking age in Solace, if you're a pirate?”/“You guys have murdered so many people.”

6)“You find Siobhan Thompson.”

Don’t know if this matters but both the Artificing teacher and the Warlock teacher are new hires. Henry is said to be fresh out of college and Zara took over because the last guy (Evan Freem) failed his warlock pact and was devoured. I suspect out of game it’s just so Brennan can bring in interesting new NPCs that fit the plot for this season and he had to retcon whatever names he gave them for the faculty in Freshman Year. Not sure if there’s an in-game angle though. 

Brennan asks Fig where she thinks she gets her warlock powers from and she says, “I think it's from my dad or my bloodline or my legacy” That answer isn’t weird but I dunno the fact that he asked about a thing that I thought was already established struck me as off so it’s going on the list of notes. 

I loved Fig being rewarded for sneaking her name onto the class list by Zara who rightfully says that when it comes to warlocks, it’s all about what’s on the page. Brennan really invented a teacher to force Fig/Emily to get invested in class. 

Kristen trying to talk Bucky out of being scared of hell is another instance of the metaphor of Kristen’s arc brushing up against the reality of their world because some of y’all have *literally* been to hell. This isn’t real life where religion is all nebulous and personal. Hell is a place you can just go and, again, several of you HAVE BEEN. It’s not a silly thing for him to be scared of. 

Lol at Adaine who drank half a beer one time getting Bucky starry eyed by her Bad Kid exploits (said exploits being drinking that half a beer). 

So the new Helioic Cleric. What’s his deal? Have we been to Highcourt before? I don’t think so but it’s been mentioned as the place that the Applebees want to send their kids for school so they don’t turn out heathens so maybe it’s a bit theocratic or traditional? Also, did the Rat Grinders lose their OG cleric or did they just never have one seeing as they’re just fighting weenie monsters? Why did they suddenly decide to pick up a cleric? To round out their party comp or because they know they’ll be needing one soon? How did they convince this guy to join up with them first day? I wish Kristen had gotten more info but I’m excited to see where this is going. 

I wanna get your votes in now. Are the Rat Grinders evil or do their vibes just suck? Because it really could go either way. I really can’t wait to see what the rest of them are like and how they contrast their corresponding BK members. 

Sidenote: So far, every time we’ve met a Rat Grinder they’ve been alone. As opposed to the Bad Kids who hang out as much as possible. I wonder if we’re just never catching them together or if they literally don’t hang out when they don’t have to. 

The Hangman is so adorable when he’s like, “I don’t wanna do a shrimp jump but if you ask I will because I love you :(“ Big sad puppy energy. Be nicer to your bike Fabian!

Also, I said this in an ask earlier but despite the fact that Adaien’s financial situation isn’t Fabian’s problem–even if he’s 18 he’s still a child–he can’t be mad at her for not going to his party from his pirate ship mansion with his 5000 gold a month allowance. Come on now. The girl is filtering gold flakes from discounted liquor. 

I didn’t mention it in the recap proper because school is also kicking my ass right now but we learn in this episode that the Kristen/Tracker breakup was amicable, followed by 3 months of radio silence, followed by WHO IS THAT BITCH ON HER LAP RAGH??? Curious to know what Nara’s vibe is. I want her to be chill but the little disagreement over whether to be public gives me pause. Not that that’s a relationship ender of course, but I’m wondering if it’s meant to hint at further discord or if Tracker just didn't want Kristen to find out like that or something else innocuous. 

Nothing was outright stated but for like a second I felt like I caught a vibe that Ragh maybe felt bad about just being used to buy beer? But I could have imagined it. 

I really love Kalina being in this episode to just really cut to the heart of the matter re: things involving Cass. Like it’s hard to use humor to deflect when there’s a steely eyed cat there who will just very evenly say exactly what the situation is. I also really love that Kalina can just be casually encountered at the mall. I cannot imagine being Adaine and getting jump scared by that. 

(Sidenote: I wonder what Adaine’s other job options were if she didn’t go for the first one she found or if she’d rolled better.)

I know these are high schoolers, full children, but the idea that you would even be thinking about the shrimp party when your friend’s goddess is going supernova and your other friend is already on sight and in danger is WILD to me. People are dying Kim.

I also already said this in another post but my best guess about what’s happening to Cass is that she’s being affected by Kristen’s whole deal–Kristen has been obsessed with getting jacked, hence the buff wizards. It could be something totally different of course but that’s the best connection I can make with the info we currently have. 

I understand why this can’t happen mechanically but it seems pretty low commitment to be a follower of Cass and I don’t think she’d be opposed to giving the Bad Kids a level of cleric for their trouble. Like, literally Adaine calling for a medic for Cass is as much if not more than we’ve seen Kristen for her so far this season. Why not help Cass not die and pick up some free healing spells in the process? Like they don’t even need to become clerics, just give them one low level healing spell like magic initiate for the cleric class. It’s not like any of the Bad Kids seem overly religious/like there’s another god they’re loyal to that would prevent them from doing this. Idk man, if I was in this position Cass would just have one more follower is what I’m saying.

[catchyhuh]

What sort of hobbies or interests do you imagine the Gang having (outside thievery or arresting said thieves)? And do they influence the way they go about their usual antics, or are they mostly Unrelated to everything else in their lives? :0c

oohhooohoho this is a good one because i have a small handful of actual canonical hobbies/interests that come up occasionally and then i have the ones that solely exist in my mind palace. at least until tms decides to let a random little shrimp from america take the reins on their most longrunning successful franchise anyway,

lupin:

i can’t remember if i mentioned lupin loves puzzles. wait yes i did in the video game list SORRY I’M ALREADY HAVING TROUBLE REMEMBERING WHAT I HAVE AND HAVEN’T GONE OFF ABOUT but yes in canon lupin LOVES puzzles. less like, jigsaw puzzles, more like shapey puzzles. but hell man if you can get him to sit still long enough he might like a jigsaw one just to pass the time

i think he likes cooking. him, jigen and goemon all seem to really Get it. so count this under all of them, they just love yummy food and occasionally the process of making it too

he likes to draw :) somebody has to be behind all the slightly different variants of his little mascot guy. SOMEBODY has to redraw bank floor plans so they can plan out each tiny step of the heist. somebody has to scribble over his own wanted posters to put funny little devil horns on the image CMON now!!

jigen:

only jigen could be in a fucking arcade theater complex and pull out a fucking crossword puzzle. why is this dude honestly trying to speedrun being a grouchy old man before he even turns 40. i mean no hate, no hate to crossword puzzles, they are cool but i’m more of a wordsearch guy. BUT THERE’S OTHER STUFF TO DO JIGEN!! at least he’s not going for sudoku though

very random but i think he might like sewing in a passive sense. with how particular he is about his hat and really ANY clothes on his person, he probably just picked up a needle one day to fix a tear and then was like Huh. this isn't too bad actually. kinda repetitive and calming. and then the others found out and tried to get him to fix all their stuff too SO HALF PLEASANT AND HALF NOT SO PLEASANT

fujiko:

you may think i’m insane but fujiko must genuinely have some sort of fondness for computers and technology. more than she lets on at least, because. how DO you know how to fly every type of aircraft. how DO you know how to crack into almost any computer firewall? how do you know how to isolate a computer virus as it’s ALREADY corrupted HALF OF THE SYSTEM?? this goes beyond job necessity to me she must really have some hidden underlying passion for this stuff

i think it’d be cute if she took up some kinda journaling. i mean god knows she’s not writing about her FEELINGS in that little leather notebook, and she doesn’t really have the time to commit to like, scrapbook shit (even if she had the time, she’s not sentimental like that) but something simple like “this is a list of m&m variants in order of how disgusting to not disgusting they taste to me <3” with little candy stickers and gel pen hearts drawn in. the next page has a bloodstain on it and the only thing written is “dw about that lol”

goemon:

okay i KNOW i’ve pushed the Arts Enjoyer goe agenda before but i recently saw that part 3 production art again of him chilling with the pottery wheel so i must state, once again, goemon LOVES sculpting shit in all forms. chip away at some rock, throw zantetsuken at a block of wood, actually invest in some clay for fucking once, whatever he uses, he’ll make something pretty good. and even if it wasn’t good it’s still a fun hobby for him. keeps his hands loose but precise

oh my god you know what he would love. dominoes. you know when people make those like crazy long domino strings that form a pattern when they’ve all fallen. if anybody here could have the precision and strangely placed patience to do shit like that it’s definitely this guy

zenigata:

going through this list easily and eagerly typing up little funfacts about things i do know they like outside of their. “jobs” and then slowly realizing as i get to zenigata that i... cannot think of anything he. uh. does for fun. damn. he DOES talk about movies a lil bit from time to time, and knowing his mixture of a freakish eye for detail and also missing the most obvious things ever i bet hearing him talk about a movie is twice as fun as actually watching it. i would pay HUNDREDS to hear him try to explain what he thinks of space odyssey to me

it would be-- i have no reasoning for this but it would be so cute and hilarious if he did like. tiny magic tricks. you know? like card appearing out of thin air, coin behind your ear type shit. tiny stuff he figured out on his brief off time. we know lupin can do little stuff like that too but it'd just be hilarious if zenigata, completely unawarely and unintentionally for once, ended up being better than him at some inconsequential shit like making a pair of keys disappear

and i guess in light of recent discoveries they all like golf. apparently. well. no one is perfect

[indigitalembrace]

{Sec is not as smart as Goblin}

{She is still going to try}

{Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter. Facebook. As many different social media sites as she could sign up for.}

{All with repeated postings of the same message:}

Shrimp and Kinito. This is Sec. I have lost access to my pc. Using my phone and public Wi-Fi. Wifi is unusable from my house. I cannot access the network. Contact me on this account. Verify identity with the name of the server member that is fluffy.

I would stay out of things. I know I brought a lot of trouble down on your heads. But I would really like to know if Kinito is okay. ...

I know I have zero right to ask for this. But please, I really, really need your help.

It’s my sister. I think something is really wrong with her. She’s acting really erratic. And I don’t know where she is. She hasn’t come home for days and none of her friends say they know where she is.

I know she has hurt you. And I know you have no reason to help her. Or me. but please. *PLEASE*. I’m begging both of you.

Help me.

Help me find her before something bad happens to her. I know both of you are able to do something like that.

I don’t think she’s in her right mind. She took a hammer to my pc when I refused to stop contacting you. Tore out the wired internet connection. Broke the modems and threw them out. Told me that if something bad happened I would know why. Then refused to elaborate!

This is not the behavior of a sane person! This is not normal even for her!

I left the house. Had to go bunker down with the parents. I… I didn’t feel safe. I hate that. My sister would never hurt me. But I was scared of her.

I tried to contact her next day. I got nothing. Got nothing over the next few days. Even my parents were getting concerned at that point. Then it turned out nobody could contact her. I went back to the house. Nobody was there. She still hasn’t come home.

There is nothing I can offer you to help me. But please. I feel like I caused this somehow but I simply don’t have the means to fix it myself.

Kinito, Shrimp, I know we didn’t have the chance to really become close friends. Are you willing to help me anyways? Or at least point me to somebody else who can?

I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do.

-Sec

{Each message that can carry tags is tagged with 'Kinito' 'Kinitopet' 'Kinitopet Server' 'Web World' 'Kinito Leisure and Entertainment Company' and anything else related to kinitopet Sec can think of}

[Time would tell who the message would reach - if it would reach anyone.]

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

Must know your Furina thoughts cause I’m forever a Furina defender. I see her as different from Focalor and like… I get why Focalor did what she did but god I’m so… I don’t like her

I have more thoughts but I’d like to know yours and then I’ll explode

Heyy hiya hi hey! Sorry for getting back to this a bit late, I have been in a hole. You know how shrimps are

But the short answer is, regretfully, MHY's writing made me really viscerally dislike her, at first. There was definitely resistance in my heart and that was frustrating in itself, because I do not hate Her exactly and I see why a lot of people liked her a lot (my friends liked her too. I was pretty solitary in my extreme disdain of her). I just hated the story that MHY is trying to tell with her, I hated what she represents (to me, at least), and I hate that I'm seeing people being a lot more forgiving with her (compared to Ei) because she's shown to be more emotionally vulnerable, which makes her more relatable (this isn't so much as like, a 'her fans are bad!' take from me, just to clarify. More so, it is an observation about how MHY is able to very easily use their storytelling to sway the audience and keep their attention on certain narratives, and I don't like the effect of their writing decisions).

Disclaimer, though, I hate, hate Marie Antoinette and that "sad, helpless, rich (white) woman" archetype, so when Furina/Focalors clearly has some inspiration (and when I see the audience immediately make some of that connection), it was immediately rigged against her in my head, lol. She had no chance.

In retrospect, though, the Marie Antoinette reference isn't that strong, but I don't know if that's because MHY really chickened out of the French Revolution inspiration, or because they just vaguely wanted the vibes of it without ever intending on committing to it, and I end up looking silly because I'm making connections where there are none. MHY writing is notorious for making people do that because it expects you to extrapolate from minimal and vague writing at times.

Anyway, then I started writing her. I wrote her into the family dynamic of the WRLT family, streamer modern/future AU thing I've got going on, and even for my canon rewrite/reinterpretation/filled-in-the-shit-I-didn't-like-and-made-it-work-for-me fic where she shows up very briefly at times, I couldn't exactly make her completely villainous either. That role I reserve solely for Focalors (who, arguably, isn't portrayed as a villain in canon, either. I just hated her more, and she's specifically written as a scapegoat for Furina Criticisms by MHY, anyway, so she's literally used, narratively, as an excuse for Furina's action as the ruler of Fontaine, so. It's functionally the same shit as Ei being like "erm that was the robot, not me..." just much, much better executed).

And she's really grown on me! Like, if I'm not so hung up on her whole "I may be the ruler of a police state, but I have feelings, too" thing, I think her personal story of having to perform a role, and having to meet an expectation that just gets further and further out of reach, and how she was shown to quite literally fall apart under that pressure was (through gritted teeth) well done. I Guess. I liked the way they unravelled her on a literal stage at the end of the MSQ. If anything, I will give it to MHY for their understanding of effective visual storytelling.

In her defence, Neuvillette also had the whole "I may be the ruler of a police state, but I have feelings, too" thing going for him. In many ways, you can argue that he's Worse because he's the actual, functional facet of Fontaine's Justice System, while she was treated more as the theatrical side. But, I will Say, MHY tried to sneak it in there that she also does work behind the scenes to help vulnerable people, and they also tried to say that she takes her job very seriously behind the scenes as well. She just acts like she's all fun. But, once again, because of their writing, I think it's horribly executed. Because aside from those Few Specific Moments where they showed her doing these things, no actual impact of her leadership was ever shown within Fontaine aside from the way she represents the Theatre-Court thing, BUT EVEN THAT MEANS NOTHING ANYWAY.

(So once again, in the same way as my Neuvillette ramble, you have MHY being like "is she actually helpless? Is she not? Can she actually make changes, can she not???" and they end up playing Accountability Hot Potato between her and Neuvillette where they're like, No, Actually. You're the one In Power! No You! No You! I'm a clueless Sovereign, I don't know humans, you're the Archon! But you are the one people actually take seriously as the Iudex, you're the one with actual political influence, and I'm not the real Archon anyway! Then Focalors is like, Wah, Celestia! That's the actual party you should blame! I'm actually the martyr here! Feel bad for me! And if Celestia pops up with playable characters you know they're gonna be like erm, actually, we also have clones who's been acting as us who's the actual evil ones, but it's not us I prommie.)

Like how the fuck have they not figured out about the Primordial Waters shit, like, a hundred years ago. You're telling me they are so damn good at their jobs, but it took them this long? To realise??? The Primordial Waters can be a big ass problem in the future that they should have prepared for in the past? It's almost like a nod to how IRL governments will ignore global warming and line their pockets allowing big corpo to continue wrecking the environment at the cost of the common people— oh wait, MHY vaguely suggested that too in the world lore about pollution caused by Fontaine's rapidly growing technological landscape, but they didn't do anything with it, because the Government that would get narratively criticised in Fontaine is Entirely Made Up of the Two Characters Products they're trying to Sell?

Oh, you're telling me the way Oratrice Mechanique D'Analyse is feeding off the people's belief in Justice while it literally hoards all the energy of the nation in order to fulfil Focalor's plan can almost be seen as commentary on how Media like True Crime commodifies Justice while platforms like TikTok literally profit off your engagement— oh wait it falls apart the moment you try to say that Focalors did this out of necessity in order to give Neuvillette back his sovereignty because those vaguely evil, undefined Ceslestia people?

And I'm sure someone could pop up and say like That's The Point! They're trying to show that someone is always above someone else, pulling the strings, and that Everyone has to do a little evil sometimes! As if that's not the easiest excuse for MHY to wave off writing accountability into their character stories.

But you know what poisons all of their writing to me? Knowing that they make products first, stories after. Every writing decisions they make, I am sitting there like, "This is designed for an audience, this is specifically made this way to sell to the most people possible." I can't look at Furina and think "they're trying to make a sympathetic and relatable character" because I Know there is a board of Rich Guys somewhere who sits there and say "but she has to be redeemable, she has to be relatable, and she has to be just a little bit of everything to be palatable to the widest swath of people."

Like, all the "flaws" of Genshin's writing are barely "flaws" at this point, in terms of intention. There's no one sitting there being like "this is what we wanted to achieve, but we went about it wrong", it's more like "this is good enough to make us money. Some people might complain or look into it deeper, but most are still gonna buy and keep using our product." And they're right. Fuck, I might come back for Natlan just to see what the fuck they'd do. And I hate it lol

[strawberryslayer0]

OMOZAI (bsd x Omori au)

An AU where instead of dazai joining the agency, he stays isolated from society after oda's death. Dazai blames himself for his death feeling like he should've tried harder to convince his friend not to go and that he should've gotten there earlier to stop oda from dying. He dreams of another reality where everything is different, the same darkness, but a little lighter.

(BTW, I can't tell if this is a script for a game or a fanfic, my writing style through this goes everywhere, I am so sorry for that-)

It starts with text that says "no matter whether your on the side of killing people or saving people," the screen goes to black again, another line of text shows up that says "there will never be anything that can surpass your mind." The picture they took that night they all shared together one last time. The screen goes black again "there is no place in this world that can fill your loneliness." The screen goes black again "you will linger in the darkness forever." The text fades again and we are transported to white space. It's dazai (the player), he's dressed in his pm outfit. It's the same layout as omori, but mewo is nastume, the sketchbook is his suicide book, the tissues stay and so does the computer and of course, the door. If you go to the door, you cant do anything yet. If you go to the computer and you check your computer, the options are to either stare at the computer or look at you calender. If you click the calender it just says "stayed with sensei" and "went to see ango and odasaku" scattered on different days throughout the calender. If you stare at the screen, the screen becomes blurry as you start to zone out. You can zone back in by just exiting the computer. If you check the suicide book, it's scattered with a bunch of little notes next to passages that say stuff like "don't try, too painful", "tried, didn't work", "that sounds disgusting!", "this doesn't sound too bad, might try". If you go to natsume you get "meow (what are you waiting for?)" And the tissue box is for "wiping your sorrows away". Suddenly something drops. You go to find the thing in a generated spot but in the meantime there are blue hands that try to get you if they see you (if they do get you, you go back to the a square), suddenly, you find a riot gun. You pick up the gun and it is now in your inventory. You can finally enter through the door, so you do. Once you enter, you're transported into a bar everuthing is dim at first until you see your two best friends sitting at the table, everything magically becomes more saturated, showing that his friends are his light. The one with black hair was sitting on the right, the red head was on the left, and there was a spot in the middle, a spot they were saving for you. They both notice you and the red head stands up and walks to you, taking the cigarette out of his mouth

ODASAKU: *with a slight smile* "hey DAZAI, how are you?"

ODASAKU: "ANGO and i were just catching up on work, we were hoping you'd show up"

ODASAKU: *he closes his eyes still with the same smile* "come sit down with us."

ANGO: *he looked tired, as always, and had a stoic expression* "well hello DAZAI, I'm surprised to see you, we didn't think you'd make it"

You sit with them in the middle on your little stool as the bartender serves you whiskey in a fancy glass with a huge chunk of ice in the middle, it was what you ordered everytime.

ODASAKU: "So, DAZAI, how are you? How's work been?"

Options: "it's been alright, just stressful with that shrimp always bothering me" or "it's been stressful cause of MORI"

First option scenario:

ANGO: *he slight smiles*"I know, it must be, but you two make such a great team together on missions."

ODASAKU: "I agree, You just have to be patient with him and yourself."

ODASAKU: "are you sure you hate him? You seem to be really passionate about hating him.."

Dazai starts to blush a ton and his cheeks turn a bright red seeming to squirm in his seat from that comment (he's clearly speaking but I wanted dazai to be like omori where be barely talks, but I still wanted his personality to shine through so it's gonna be a lot of that lol),

Odasaku laughs and says

ODASAKU: *clearly amused* "don't worry dazai, we'll keep this secret to ourselves"

Second option senario:

ODASAKU: "Yeah....the boss is tougher on you than anyone I've ever seen, even if he tries to keep it behind closed doors."

ANGO: "tell me about it. I don't know how you deal dazai."

ODASAKU: "He recently gave me a mission where I had to clean up a crime scene that occurred involving a kid being murdered by his parents. I know he did that on purpose just to break me down and make me quit."

ANGO: " What a terrible person we all have to work for"

ODASAKU: "tell me about it"

Resume:

Everyone stays silent for a moment until ango speaks

ANGO: *he clears his throat* "moving on...MORI assigned me to go look at some documents at the port mafia's accounting facility, would you two like to come with me?"

ODASAKU: "Yeah, sounds interesting."

ODASAKU: "you in, DAZAI?"

Options: "yes" or "no"

First option scenario:

ANGO: "Wonderful, let's get going"

Everyone gets up and goes into a line, dazai leading.

Second option scenario:

ODASAKU: "c'mon DAZAI , don't you need more information on one of the people who died anyways?"

ANGO: "that's right, I remember you telling us about someone that you were interested in knowing more about"

ODASAKU: "you need to stop avoiding work, DAZAI, it's not good for your reputation. People won't take you seriously if you keep this up."

Dazai finally agrees and everyone gets up and goes into a line, with dazai leading.

Resume:

They all get out of lupin bar and get there in no time. Once they get in, they start looking through documents that have been written by ango and former obituary writers. Dazai opened a drawer and found an old picture that ango took of oda trying dazai's homemade curry. Needless to say, it wasn't tasty and it showed on oda's face in the picture. On the back of the picture it said "Dazai made curry, but of course since dazai made it, it wasn't that great. Oda agrees." Dazai held up the picture for everyone to see

ODASAKU: "I remember this day, it was the day I learned to never let DAZAI touch a cooking utensil ever again."

ANGO: "that's what I told you in the first place, but you just HAD to insist on letting him try to cook."

ODASAKU: "Well, maybe we can try again next time"

ANGO: *He sighs* "let's hope not..."

While they were still looking for the document Ango announces that he found the document that dazai was looking for. But...somethings off..

ANGO: "wait...I don't remember writing this obituary.."

ANGO: "wha...what Is this?!"

ODASAKU: "what's wrong ANGO??"

ANGO: "ODASAKU...You..You're--"

Suddenly, the screen than gliches out...

[asirenscream]

a shrimptastic picnic | wren & felix

TIMING: current

LOCATION: the common.

PARTIES: @asirenscream & @recoveringdreamer

SUMMARY: wren's bad attempt at potato salad leads her to the lions & lambs picnic and felix is kind enough to taste test, until they're interrupted by a man insisting they learn more about the well respected shrimp. a totally normal picnic, right? right!

CONTENT: mentions of the potential of food poisoning.

The Lions and Lambs picnic seemed pretty daunting to Wren. Well, not just because she had to subtly find out that there weren’t actually going to be any lions or lambs, but because of how many people would be there. Standing in the grass of The Common, Wren tried not to sweat too much. Her fingers were gripping the tupperware container she had put her potato salad in. She hadn’t ever made potato salad before, but someone had mentioned how that was a common picnic food. She had taken hours attempting to boil the cubed, unevenly sized potatoes and mixing them into the mayo mustard mixture. The website on The Google she had found said that anyone could put what they wanted in potato salad! The comments were very helpful so Wren threw onions, celery, raisins, and walnuts in it. Hopefully people liked it.

Shifting on her feet, Wren tried to coax up the nerve to approach the crowd of people in The Common there for the picnic. This would be a good way to step over her anxiety and fear of humans—of people in general. Should she have brought forks or spoons? She didn’t own many of them… Or plates. Or bowls. Should she have brought those, too? Oh, she was definitely spiraling now. Brown eyes squeezed shut as Wren tried to take a steady breath and ignore the racing of her heart. Maybe if she pretended people weren’t there for a minute then it’d be okay. It’d be fine. Right? Right!

Wren slowly opened her eyes and tentatively started walking across the grass, the slightest tremor in her form. She accidentally bumped into someone and squeaked, looking up with wide eyes. “Sorry! I’m—wait. I know you, right?” She got out in a rush. She felt like she remembered him from online. “You have the cat? Um, right? I’m not misremembering.” Cats didn’t tend to be birds' biggest fans. Wren hadn’t met a cat before so she wasn’t sure how they’d in turn take to her. “I’m Wren! I think we talked before, hi!”

—

For years, Felix had felt fairly isolated. First, they’d had their father as their well-meaning warden in that house in the woods. Then, there’d been Leo and his less-than-good intentions in the apartment they’d shared for years, where Felix made themself smaller and smaller by the day in order to allow Leo space to be big. Felix had never really had the chance to branch out and meet new people until after their breakup with Leo and, by that point, they’d been so nervous that it seemed a herculean task just to start a conversation. But they were working on that. They were doing better now. They were reaching out to people, they were making friends.

They were going to picnics.

It had seemed like a good idea, in theory. They’d even managed to talk themself out of the tempting idea of dragging Mona or Natalia along for the ride, reminding themself that they needed to be able to meet people without the security blanket of someone they were already close to being there to help. They could do this on their own. Just Felix, the muffins they’d brought, and… a whole lot of people. Like a lot of people. Were there always this many people at things like this?

Someone bumped into them in the crowd, and Felix stiffened a little. “Sorry,” he said, at the same time that they apologized. Then, blinking down, they realized they recognized the girl. “Oh! Hi! You’re, um, the bird girl. I mean, the girl who likes birds. I mean, person. Bird person. Person who likes birds.” All right, Fe, reel it in. “I’m Felix! Um, what did you…” The trailed off, looking down at the tupperware in her hand and what they could see of the… substance inside. “...make?”

—

Bird girl. Well, they weren’t wrong. It caused Wren to let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh. That felt a little too on the nose, even if they didn’t realize it. “Yup! Yeah, bird girl seems… fitting.” Her laugh strained just a tad bit more before she reeled it in. “Big fan of birds! That’s me, yes. Um, anyways!” She rocked onto the balls of her feet as she tried to ignore her own anxious, awkward tendencies. “Hi Felix! I’m happy to see a friendly face.” He really did seem friendly from their brief conversation. It did little to ebb her already overwhelming anxiety, but it was something at least. 

Looking down at the container, Wren had to take a moment to remember the name. “Uh, potato salad!” She looked back up and smiled. “The recipe said to just add whatever I wanted! So I did that. I’ve never made potato salad. I didn’t even know what it was! I had to search what picnic foods were, because I don’t think people would like my go to foods.” Raw meat, raw fish may be more accepted, but she didn’t know how well either of those would hold for human consumption. 

There was plenty of activity around Wren and Felix. It was overwhelming, so Wren did her best to ignore the push, push, push of it all. “Um, did you bring anything? Or just come for the fun? Would you want some potato salad? I didn’t bring forks! Should I have brought forks? I don’t know how picnics work, I’ve never been to one. What do you think?” She blabbered on. Wren could tell when she was spiraling and it was definitely happening. “Oh god, sorry. When I start I just kind of can’t stop! Ha.” She winced.

—

She seemed nervous, and Felix wondered if they’d said something wrong. They had a habit of that, they knew, of speaking out of turn and generally making a mess of things. They were trying to do better, trying to improve, trying to… be the sort of person that people wanted to talk to, but it was an uphill battle. Spending most of your teen years living off the land in a murder cabin tended to make social interaction a little more difficult. Trying to save the interaction, Felix nodded. “Uh, yeah! Birds are great. I like birds, too.” They didn’t. Not more than the average person, at least. In fact, some birds freaked them out a little. But, hey! They could pretend, in the interest of friendly conversation. “Yeah! Yeah, it’s nice to, uh, know somebody.” 

Glancing back down to the container again, Felix tried not to let their… surprise show on their face. That was not potato salad. Felix had seen potato salad. Felix had made potato salad. Felix had even enjoyed potato salad. That was not potato salad. But it was her first time making it, and she’d found a recipe that apparently wasn’t very helpful, and wouldn’t it be unnecessarily mean to point that out? “It looks great!” Felix lied, flashing her a bright smile. “I can’t wait to try it!” They hoped they had remembered to put anti-nausea meds in their jean pockets.

“I brought muffins,” Felix replied quickly, holding up the muffins and offering one to Wren. They liked to think they were some quality muffins, but they might have been a little biased. They glanced back to the ‘potato salad’ Wren was holding with a forced smile. “Oh, yeah. I’d love some potato salad. I think, uh — I think there’s forks where the other food is. So we can go over there and get some forks. And then. Eat this potato salad!” They felt a little like they were tying a noose for their executioner here, but it was fine. “No, hey, it’s okay! I kind of do the same thing. It’s cool. Come on, let’s… go find a fork.”

—

Wren’s smile was shaky at best, but it was getting easier to breathe through the anxiety when she just focused on Felix in front of her instead. They seemed really nice and dealing with one person in comparison to several was always going to be preferable to Wren. Especially when they seemed to be as kind as Felix was. “I don’t do this kind of stuff often,” a pause as Wren tried to figure out how to word it, “go out, I guess. Being around a lot of people kind of freaks me out.” An understatement, but she could lighten it a tiny bit. There was no harm, right?

“Thanks! I tried really hard, so I hope it’s good.” Wren smiled, holding up the container briefly to observe the potato mixture in there that had taken her way too long. Humans were really strange in what they could eat and couldn’t. She didn’t want to make something she’d enjoy, but would make humans sick. That was the quickest way to give away the fact that she was very clearly something else entirely. The constant fear and itch to not be found out was persistent enough. 

Baking! That was another thing that Wren was eager to try. “Oh wow, these look amazing! Thank you!” Wren took the muffin excitedly. “Do you bake a lot? Or cook in general? Baking seems really hard, but so fun. Do you have a favorite thing you like to cook or bake?” She practically bounded alongside Felix to go near the other food. Someone was going to eat her food! She was way too excited. “Fork adventure! Hah,” Wren giggled almost nervously and could feel the heat from her embarrassed blush travel all the way up to the tips of her ears. 

There was a table full of other dishes and cutlery, plates, anything you could think of. Wren made work of setting down the tupperware container and popping off the lid. It didn’t look awful, at least. Or to her, anyway. It looked like vegetables and sauce? That was normal, for sure. “If you hate it, it’s okay! Don’t worry.” Wren added quickly, resisting the urge to grimace. “Rome wasn’t painted in a day or whatever the saying is. I heard that one on TV.” 

—

Given her overall demeanor her words — that this wasn’t a thing she did often — felt unnecessary to really say. It was clear that she was uncomfortable, out of her element. But that was okay. Felix was a little out of theirs, too. So they smiled back at her, they shrugged their shoulders. “I don’t really do this often, either,” they admitted, wondering if they were this obvious. Being around a lot of people was pretty scary, but they’d found it was a lot better when you were around one you trusted. They could be that one for Wren, they thought. Or… try to, anyway.

Even if it meant eating her potato salad. They spared it another look, careful not to let the uncertainty shine through in their expression. They weren’t sure she would have picked up on it, but they didn’t want to take any chances. “I’m sure it’s great. I think, um, the first step to cooking and being good at it is to try your hardest. Right?” Wrong. Very, very wrong. The first step to cooking and being good at it was not making anything like what she had in her hands. Felix’s stomach was not going to be happy with them after this.

But Wren was happy, or seemed to be. That made it feel kind of worth it. She took a muffin, and Felix offered her an encouraging smile. “I love baking. It’s something I do a lot. Um, I do more of it when I’m stressed. I like to think I’m pretty good at it, because of all the practice.” They paused. “Baking, I mean, Not being stressed.” Though they got plenty of practice at that, too. “Yeah! Yeah, let’s go on a fork adventure.”

It didn’t feel like much of an adventure. They walked to the table and grabbed a fork, trying not to sigh as Wren popped open her tupperware. It smelled… interesting. Like a lot of things at once. Felix, unsure where to start, stuck his fork in. “Yeah. That’s — That’s totally how it goes. Um, I think.” They tried to remember that meal at the Raven, the one that looked terrible but tasted fine. They did their best to convince themself that Wren’s potato salad would be the same as they brought the fork to their mouth.

—

Wren swallowed hard around the small lump that formed in her throat. Ever since all but crash landing at Wicked’s Rest she had been endlessly surprised by the kindness people showed her. She hadn’t ever really considered before that this may be the norm for humans and their society. Felix was offering her kindness simply because they wanted to. She couldn’t say it made her any less perpetually terrified of those around her, but at least it was comforting to know that kindness was the go to for a lot of people she had, thankfully, already met. 

“Oh, yes! I think so, too. Something about being bad before you can be good at it,” Wren agreed cheerfully. She peeled carefully at the wrapper around the base of the muffin before taking a bite. One of the things that Wren had also come to love was all the various foods humans had to offer. The muffin was sweet and the sugar went right to her head with how ready she felt to bounce all around. “Wow! This is amazing, Felix!” Maybe baking was something people were just good at off the bat. Felix seemed to be at least. 

Nodding along, Wren took Felix’s words into consideration. So they weren’t good at it off the bat then. Practice was the key. She’d have to keep that in mind for herself. All wasn’t lost. “I get that, though. I’m always stressed—especially about things I can’t control, which I’ve been told isn’t great for me, but it’s hard not to and all. Do you make cookies or anything? Or cupcakes? Those are baked goods, right?” Okay, reign it in, Wren. That wasn’t a normal thing to ask someone—a fellow human. It took her best efforts sometimes to not look like a fish out of water. 

Wren clapped her hands together and smiled expectantly. She hoped that they didn’t feel too pressured right now, but this was a big step for her. Cooking and trying to offer it to people without having an anxiety filled meltdown. She thought she was doing pretty well so far. “So? Thoughts? Concerns? Comments? Questions?” She asked, trying to do her best to not look over eager, but failing. 

—

She was right about that, at least; the first step to being really good at something was being really bad at it. Felix’s mother had been particularly fond of that saying, smiling each time one of her children came to her to admit to some mistake. That’s how you learn, she’d tell them. So… maybe Wren’s potato salad was effectively poison. Maybe Felix would regret eating it. But this was how she was going to learn, wasn’t it? Their mother had helped them with that, so maybe it was their duty to pay it forward and help Wren.

They smiled as she took a bite of the muffin, pleased that she seemed to enjoy it. “I’ll give you the recipe, if you want. Um, baking is — It’s about being precise, but knowing when to improvise. My mom used to say it was like jazz music. There’s notes, but some of it is you making it up as you go.” 

It was easy to see themself in Wren. In her stress, her anxiety. Felix had a pretty good idea how she was feeling right now, and they wanted to help. If that meant eating bad potato salad, they’d eat it. “Yeah,” they confirmed with a nod. “I make cookies a lot. Cupcakes sometimes, too, but I’d rather just make a normal cake. I don’t know why, but I like normal cakes better than cupcakes. Those are baked goods, yeah.” Man, Wren wasn’t kidding when she said she was new to cooking. Maybe she was a sheltered kid, someone who’d just moved to town for college or something. She was about the right age, and Felix had heard that some college kids didn’t even know how to do laundry when they first got to their dorms.

The potato salad sat on their tongue, and it was… wrong. All of it was wrong. The texture, the taste. It was hard not to make a face as it settled, and when Felix swallowed, it was… a little too hard of a gulp to pass for neutrality. They opened their mouth, now blessedly free of “potato salad” and tried to think of something to say.

Luckily, they were rescued by an approaching person. The man wore a red shirt and red shirts, with a red had sporting claws on either side. He came to stand beside Wren, the smile on his face a little too wide. “Shrimptastic day we’re having!” He greeted, and Felix, eyes wide, nodded.

“Um. Yeah?”

“Have you seen our booth? We’re just over there. We have pamphlets. Would you like a pamphlet?”

—

Jazz music. Wren wasn’t quite sure what that was, but she could figure it out. The website Google had been her best friend since stumbling right into the thick of human culture. “Sure! That would be really nice.” She nodded, “improvise… kind of like how I did in the potato salad!” She supplied, looking proud of herself. The website did say that you could throw whatever you wanted into it and it’d more than likely work. 

“A normal cake! Like the big ones with a bunch of layers? I saw that on a TV show.” Wren gasped, trying to refrain from getting more muffin crumbs all over her sweater. She wasn’t entirely successful, but that was fine. “Do you have a favorite flavor or anything? I’ve heard that you can’t go wrong with chocolate. I like chocolate loads.” She informed them. Taking another bite of her muffin had her head bobbing along happily as if there was music she was dancing to. 

Mouth full of muffin, Wren didn’t get to hear what Felix thought of her potato salad when someone came up beside her. She did her best not to choke on the baked goods in her startled state. Thankfully with that came not shrieking out loud like the impulse had been. Wren quickly chewed and swallowed, wiping at the crumbs on her face. ‘Shrimptastic day’... what did that mean? Shrimp were delicious, she’d allow that.

“Um, yes?” Wren wasn’t sure if that was the right answer. “What is your booth about? Shrimp?” Someone did say that they had been given a bunch of shrimp they didn’t want. Her brown eyes flickered over to Felix to see if they had any earthly idea what could be going on with this shrimp enthusiastic person. “I didn’t realize so many people here liked shrimp that much.”

—

Felix didn’t want to encourage more potato salads like this one. They really didn’t. But saying, no, nothing like what you did with the potato salad, do the opposite of whatever you did with the potato salad would probably hurt Wren’s feelings, and that wasn’t at all what Felix wanted. So they grit their teeth together in a forced grin and nodded their head. “Yeah! Like that!” Surely not every attempt would be as bad as this one, right?

“Yeah, like that. I like chocolate a lot, but I have to be careful how I make it. I’m lactose intolerant — uh, which means I don’t process cow’s milk well — so I have to, you know, use other ingredients instead. But you can make it work! And if you don’t have allergies to worry about, they make a lot of boxed good cake mixes. Pretty much all you have to do is add the wet ingredients!” Maybe that should be Wren’s first stepping stone if she wanted to be a baker. It was hard to mess up a boxed cake mix, wasn’t it?

It was strange, feeling grateful for a stranger approaching to talk about shrimp. After their experience at the theatre with Mona, Felix had little desire to talk about shrimp at all. But talking about shrimp would give them time to think of something nice to say about Wren’s potato salad, wouldn’t it? It was… was sticky a compliment? No, right? She probably hadn’t been going for sticky.

The man smiled at Wren, something strange behind his eyes. “Isn’t everything about shrimp? If it isn’t, it should be.” His eyes flickered down to the potato salad. “I spotted you from across the way. Your food looks very good. I think we might have similar ideologies.” He reached out, putting a hand on Wren’s arm in a way that was strange; like he wasn’t quite used to having hands. Felix blinked.

“Um, actually —”

The man continued as if they hadn’t spoken. “Of course people like shrimp. Who would deny shrimp? You wouldn’t, would you? Would you deny shrimp the respect they deserve? The fear? The awe? Be honest.”

—

“My friend Van is like that! She offered me medicine once when I cried at her work then got raw meat.” Wren informed Felix. You’re supposed to share stories with friends or people who would become friends, right? She was totally nailing this. Boxed mix sounded a lot easier than trying to bake from scratch. Maybe she’d have to give that a try. She could make something for her friends and hopefully they’d like it! “Oh, that sounds like a nice idea, thank you! I’ll give that a try. I can follow instructions, for the most part. Sometimes I like to do whatever I want since that’s more fun, but I’ll do my best to try to follow it all without too much change.” Jazz, jazz music. Had to follow it to make it work best, but with some changes is what Felix said.

The man had a certain look in his eye that was making the hair on the back of Wren’s neck stand up. She didn’t have a good gut feeling, but when did she ever? This could just be her anxiety talking, knowing her. Poppy always poked at her mercilessly for her fear over the smallest things that she wouldn’t be able to sense real danger if it smacked her in the face. Was this one of those situations? She wasn’t equipped to be able to handle this, she was sure. 

“Oh, ha! Um, thanks!” Wren laughed nervously, the brief grimace on her face quickly being hidden by an equally as uncomfortable looking smile. “I didn’t think everything should be about shrimp, to be honest. Isn’t there other things to enjoy like… I don’t know? Nature? Um, stuff that isn’t shrimp? Right, Felix?” She quickly looked at them with a wild look in her eyes. She didn’t want to do this alone.

Shaking the man’s hand off as casually as Wren could manage, she looked at a loss for words. “Aren’t shrimp usually just eaten instead? Is that what your pamphlet is about? A shrimp eating contest sounds like fun!” 

—

“Oh, hey, I know Van!” And… they also knew that humans weren’t supposed to eat raw meat. Felix could handle it — the jaguar was built for digesting raw meat, and they did share a body — but it made human sick. Maybe Van didn’t know that, or Wren didn’t, or both; either way, Felix felt it was their responsibility, as an adult in the equation, to say something. “You cooked the meat, though, didn’t you? You really need to cook meat before you eat it. I mean, um, there are some kinds you can eat raw, I think — like sushi and stuff — but for the most part, you’re really supposed to cook it.”

At least she seemed willing to accept boxed cake mix. Felix thought it would be a big step for Wren, the kind of thing that could really push her in the right direction. Boxed cake mix would be so much better than this potato salad, because anything would be better than this potato salad. Not that Felix was going to say that. They were not breaking kids’ spirits. “They usually put the instructions on the box with the cake mix. But, um, you know, you can still add stuff to it! Like… chocolate chips.” And not onions, they wanted to add. Definitely not onions.

They wondered what had drawn this shrimp-loving man their way. Surely he didn’t really want Wren’s potato salad, did he? He kept looking at it, something like hunger in his eyes. Felix moved to grab him a fork when Wren spoke, drawing their attention away. “Um, yeah. Shrimp is cool, but it’s not everything. Haha.”

It was like a flip had been switched. The more Wren spoke about shrimp, the less friendly the man seemed. His hand dropped from her shoulder, his eyes narrowed. “Eaten? You would eat them? Shrimp are to be adored! Worshiped! Eaten, perhaps, but only after a natural death. Only to keep them close, to make them a part of you.” He reached into his pocket, retrieving a pamphlet which he shoved into Wren’s face. “You will educate yourself. You must.” 

“Hey,” Felix took an uncertain step forward. “Look, you’re being a little —”

The man turned to them, reaching out and shoving them. It wasn’t a particularly hard shove, but it caught them off guard enough to send them stumbling backwards and make them drop the tray of muffins they were holding. “You cannot possibly understand,” the man mumbled, seeming to grow more and more frantic. “You could never. But you!” He turned back to Wren, gesturing again to the potato salad. “You must! Come with me. Come with us.” As he said it, he reached into his pocket again, this time producing… a shrimp.

—

“Oh, wow! She’s great, huh?” Wren smiled happily. Oh. Right. Humans didn’t eat raw meat. Sometimes she forgot how far away from human she was the longer she was in her human form. Though, then stuff like this would happen and she’d be very much reminded how human she wasn’t. “Um, sure! Yes. I definitely cooked the sausage. Don’t worry. I am very much a food safety expert. I watched two videos on the site YouTube about it. Especially since I didn’t want anyone getting sick from my potato salad!” She looked it up after realizing that human stomachs couldn’t handle what a siren’s stomach could. 

Wren really wished that they were still talking about boxed cake mix instead of shrimp. Which, that was something she never thought she’d think. She loved eating shrimp. This whole shrimp loving man seemed to take it to another level than her casual enjoyment. Casual enjoyment of shrimp was also another thing that Wren didn’t think she would ever think to herself before. The longer Wren is in Wicked’s Rest, the more she is convinced it’s an odd place to live. It worked out, though, she was pretty sure she also was considered odd to most people.

Blinking owlishly, Wren merely stared at the man with wide eyes. This… was so bizarre. She flinched back with the pamphlet being shoved in her face. At least this wasn’t as distressing as Regan taking her to see a dead bird. Wren had almost transformed in front of the woman with how upset she was, so she would take the building anxiety over that any day. Especially when it was with some man insisting that she educate herself on the worship of shrimp.

“Hey!” Wren said sharply the moment that he shoved Felix. “That was mean! Don’t touch my friend!” She shook her head rapidly as he seemed to get more frantic and set his sights on her instead. Snatching the shrimp out of the man’s hand, Wren bit off the shrimp leaving only the tail. She chewed thoroughly and shook the tail around, “that’s what I think of your shrimp! Go away! You touch my friend again and I’ll claw a chunk of you and your shrimp! Again!” Wren scowled at the man, shoving his shoulder hard to get him away from the pair. “Get out of here, weirdo!” 

—

“Yeah! Van is great. And, um, so is cooking sausage. Before you eat it. Which you should do!” Did watching two YouTube videos make you an expert on something? It was hard to judge without knowing the length of the videos, Felix supposed. They’d seen videos on YouTube that were up to eight hours long, though they’d never ventured to watch any of them. There was every possibility that Wren was an expert on food safety, even if the content of her potato salad made them doubt that she was an expert at food anything. 

In any case, she was probably better with food than… this guy. This guy who was so angry at the prospect of them eating shrimp, a popular food item! Felix didn’t mind the shove, really — they’d suffered far, far worse, after all — but it was nice that Wren was so upset about it. They offered her a small, grateful smile. “I’m okay, Wren,” they assured her, glancing down at the muffins. At least they’d managed to let one person eat one before they were ruined. And Wren had said they were good!

They glanced back up, away from the muffins and back to the situation at hand. The situation which saw Wren… eating the man’s pocket shrimp. That couldn’t be healthy, could it? It had been in his pocket! Shrimp needed to be stored at certain temperatures, probably! Felix took an uncertain step forward, faltering when the shrimp man’s wail cut through the air.

“You would dare? What makes you think you’re worthy? What makes you think you’ve earned this?” He pointed a finger in Wren’s face, wagging it around. His own face was red with fury, growing impossibly redder as he was shoved away. He looked from Wren to Felix and back again, eyes narrowing. “We won’t forget this,” he said lowly. “You’ve made our list now. You!” He pointed to Wren. “Are an enemy of the shrimp.” 

And with that, he turned on his heel, stomping away and tossing the pamphlet behind him. 

Felix knelt, picking it up and flipping through it. “Um, that was… weird,” they admitted, shoving the pamphlet into their pocket. They’d find a garbage can to dump it in later. “It was nice of you to stand up for me, though. I really appreciate that. Are you okay?”

—

Felix insisted they were okay, but Wren felt so angry. How dare this man think he could just shove people around because they don’t like shrimp? All Felix’s hard work was on the grass. It made Wren’s heart hurt and that only increased her anger. She let out a shaky breath and managed a small smile in Felix’s direction. “I’m glad you’re okay, Felix. That wasn’t okay what he did! I’m very sorry for your muffins. That’s so mean of him. Mean people don’t deserve good things!” She turned her sharp glare to the man in question. 

“I would dare? No, you dare!” Wren threw back in return. Though it wasn’t the best comeback, but she was too mad to think of anything better. “Get your dumb finger out of my face, weirdo! I hope you stub your toe every morning when you wake up and every night when you go to bed! It hurts really bad and you deserve it!” Wren shrieked back at the man. “That shrimp wasn’t even that good so I’m not that worried about being on your list! List of bad shrimp recipes and storing, I bet!” She huffed. “Watch some long YouTube videos and maybe you’ll be a better person after!”

Enemy of the shrimp. Wren would eat shrimp for breakfast if it meant telling that man what’s what again. She huffed and knelt down to carefully pick up the now ruined muffins. “That was really weird. I don’t think normal people keep shrimp in their pockets.” Her head shook as she held the muffins with a sad sigh. “I’m sorry about your muffins, Felix. They were very yummy and he ruined them.” The younger girl sniffled, feeling the tears start to well in her big, brown eyes. “I’m fine! Sorry, I cry at everything.” Wren hiccuped weakly. “I’m just so sad that he was so mean to you! Maybe we could make muffins some other time? Ones that won’t end up on the grass.” 

—

The anger on her face was a familiar thing. Felix didn’t get mad often, didn’t tend to rage against any machine or whatever it was that people did when they were upset with the world at large, but the jaguar did. They felt his anger in their chest sometimes, burning and directionless, upset at a situation he had no control over but was stuck in all the same. Did Wren’s feel similar? Felix wondered, sometimes, how things felt when your body was only yours. Was it preferable? Or was it good to have that ‘out,’ that thing inside of you that you could point the finger at if things went too far? 

The shrimp man stormed off, not bothering to respond to Wren’s words. He’d said his piece, it seemed, put them both on some… list that Felix hoped wasn’t a literal thing. (He didn’t know their names, did he? Felix had called Wren by hers, but only her first name! You couldn’t do anything with just a first name. Could you? Anxiety ebbed in their chest.) Felix watched him go, unable to relax even after he’d disappeared into the crowd.

Turning to Wren, they tried to offer a comforting smile. They wanted to be a force of good, a steady thing to lean upon. It was hard; Felix hadn’t felt steady in years now. But Wren was clearly upset, even if she said she was fine. “I can make new muffins,” they assured her. “And, um, yeah. You could help. If you wanted to. Um… I don’t know about you, but I’m not really… feeling the picnic anymore. If you want, we could go back to my apartment, and I could show you how to make muffins? Maybe we can come back tomorrow and bring them. Does that sound okay?”

—

Using her free hand, Wren wiped beneath her eye where a tear had escaped. She felt like a tsunami inside right now. Everything was a swirling mix of chaotic emotions that she was having a hard time tampering down. She couldn’t remember a time she felt so angry and so upset in one breath. That man was just mean and he was mean to her friend. That wasn’t okay. She didn’t want her friends to be upset or hurt because other people didn’t know how to be kind. Part of her contemplated actually going flying for the first time in… well, ages, but immediately decided against it. She wouldn’t be any good flying like this, even if she already wasn’t the best flier there was. 

Wren managed a small smile in return. “That would be fun.” She agreed after a moment and a small sniffle. “I don’t think this picnic sounds very fun right now, either. That sounds like a lot more fun.” She sighed shakily, standing to her feet to reluctantly throw away the newly ruined muffins. Wren wiped her hands on her jeans and contemplated whether or not she wanted to take the potato salad with her to Felix’s apartment. Maybe people would enjoy it and she could come back for the tupperware container tomorrow when they brought the new muffins.

“Okay! Okay, muffin mission time. We got this.” Wren did her best to be optimistic after the torrent of emotions that had been swirling throughout her. “I’m thinking we make sure to taste two of them, one each, that way more than just one person gets to have them.” She reasoned, practically skipping beside Felix as they headed away from the picnic. The picnic definitely hadn’t gone like Wren envisioned, but she got something out of it regardless. More time with a new friend and apparently on the list of the shrimp… Whatever that may mean she could only hope for the best and be optimistic for what could come. Not everything had to be scary, right? Right.

[sakuraspages]

sasusaku snippet #11

[Mermaid!Sakura AU - #6]

Sasuke sleeps on the couch. He doesn't have the heart to ask her to give him his bed back. She seems happy with staying home during the day. She grabs the few books he has. She seems curious to read.

When he comes back home after work, he is surprised to hear the shower running. As he walks towards the bathroom, he steps in a puddle of water that’s forming in his bedroom.

He understands when he sees her in the bathtub, with only her tail out of the water, the fin under the shower stream. The tub is overflowing and she’s underwater. He comes closer and looks at her from above. Her hair makes a pink cloud around her.

When he turns the shower off, she smiles at him, and emerges.

“You're back!” she says happily. “Why did you turn it off?”

He doesn’t want to ask how long it has been running. “You're flooding my house.”

She gives him a sorry pout. “I was feeling dry. Help me out?” she asks as she stretches her arms at him.

“How did you get in?”

“I crawled.”

He wraps her in a towel and she quickly pats herself dry but, as soon as her legs are back, she drops the towel and tries to lean against the furniture to drag herself back to the bedroom. He grabs another towel to wrap her with as he helps her stay up.

“Sakura… You can't just stay naked, ok?”

She blinks. “Why?” His heart flutters.

“Because… Because you…”

She suddenly looks very hurt. “You think I'm repulsive?” she asks with worry.

It’d be hard for her to be less repulsive. Her body is sculpted in marble, but soft in all the right places, her legs are unnaturally long, her breasts perfectly round, her behind just firm enough. He has done his hardest not to look at her naked but he is so weak and she is so beautiful… He is trying his best to be respectful, but what if someone else saw her and had bad intentions?

“Your body is yours,” he says quietly, holding her close to him. “You should only show it to people you trust and are really comfortable with.”

She pauses. For a few seconds she looks at him with all the depth of her green eyes and she seems to consider his words.

“Ok,” she says with a nod.

He is relieved that she understands. She turns around, drops the towel on the floor again, and starts stumbling to the bedroom again. He quickly looks away but his face is burning.

He spends a good hour mopping up the water in the bathroom and the bedroom.

Sakura reluctantly accepts to wear a T-shirt again. She tries to walk. It's better than the day before but still not enough that she can stand safely without holding onto something. He also has the strange feeling that she just likes to be carried everywhere in his arms. He never says no. She eats his weekly salary worth of shrimps and clams for dinner. He doesn't care that, between his food and his water bill, their arrangement won't be sustainable very long. He watches her eat like he has never seen anything so desirable.

The next morning he peeks into the bedroom before going to work. She’s still asleep. He briefly finds her cute, but he feels like something is wrong. He gently touches the side of her arm. She is usually cold like the sea, but now she is burning.

“Sakura?” he says as he squats by the bed.

She barely moves. “Hm?”

“Are you ok?”

She struggles to wake up. “I don’t know.”

Her cheeks are red. She's half conscious. He runs her a bath and, when he puts her in the bathtub and her body transforms, he quickly sees what’s wrong.

The wound on her tail is bright red and her fin is inflamed.

“It hurts a lot,” she says with teary eyes.

His chest tightens. He’s calling the doctor before he even thinks about what he’s going to tell her.