#steak debate

[clochanamarc]

but honestly like, the gala dash events were absolutely exquisite. delicious stuff. food for my soul. sometimes there'd be specially made memes for it, other times the photos.hop geniuses would make magazine covers, like the content was divine and i miss it all VERY much, yk? like i just miss when we were able to say "yeah, my muse is working for minimum wage in a deli, but she could definitely afford this fresh-off-the-sewing-table haute couture designer ball gown and a ticket to one of the most fancy events of the year", yk? we just really came into our own during those events and i think we need to do it again to remind ourselves of the fun that was in the rpc once.

[waterbottlqueen]

convinced that the opm sub literally only likes art if its a copied manga panel, of tatsumaki, or non-oc

[sucknizzo]

the plus side of having therapy on Monday is now I'm oh so free tomorrow and I'm kick starting my half weekend by having steak tonight

[ambassadorarlert]

with the US election fast approaching, i’ll be reblogging some political stuff. so if that’s not your jam, feel free to filter out the tags “tw politics , cw politics.” if you’re registered to vote, pls go out and vote if you’re able. it matters now more than ever. 🌴💙🥥

[max-nico]

I always know when I'm too sleep deprived because I end up writing another Minecraft parody. Anyway, you think you the shit? You not even the fart mmore like you need a pick? You can't even farm amiright guys?

[searchingwardrobes]

I have been debating sharing this for some time, but with the new year weight loss ads amping up, I feel it's something I have to say. I'm worried for people's health.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably already know about people taking the diabetic drug ozempic for weight loss. You've probably heard the debates about the ethics of taking needed drugs away from diabetes patients and maybe even the side effect of "ozempic face." However, there is one side effect of taking these drugs that, in my opinion, people are not being warned about.

If you carefully pay attention to the television ads, you will hear them mention "pancreatitis" as a possible side effect. If you're like me a decade ago, that word probably means nothing to you. Let me warn you, however, it is no minor thing. My husband suffered from chronic pancreatitis for five agonizing years. The pain is beyond comprehension. Doctors who specialize in the pancreas describe it as the worst pain a human can endure. There is no actual cure. Little is understood about the disease, so treatment is difficult. Doctors who understand it are few and far between. It took my husband forever to get diagnosed. He went through multiple surgeries and procedures, but nothing worked. He had to go on an extremely limiting diet. If he varied from it in any way, he would have an attack. The only way to recover from an attack was to not eat at all for days, then slowly add in broth and jello. Did he lose weight? Yes. As a matter of fact, one day he stepped out of the shower, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. He was skin and bones - I could count every rib. Was it worth it to be thin? If you even ask that question, I'm concerned for your mental health.

They couldn't figure out exactly why my husband got pancreatitis. At that time, they thought only alcoholics and drug addicts got pancreatitis. This made it difficult to get compassionate medical care, unfortunately. Now they know that prescription medication (particularly diabetic medication) and high cholesterol can also cause it. Then there is another group - where they just don't know. But you better believe I would hesitate to take any medication that could cause pancreatitis. I would weigh my options carefully to assess if it was worth the risk. In my opinion, weight loss is not worth that risk.

My concern has been heightened seeing the Hers commercials for these drugs (under different names, but rest assured, it is the same thing). These commercials brag that you can get these drugs from Hers with just a simple virtual call, no questions asked. I wonder if people are fully aware of the risks of these drugs. I also wonder if we even know all of the risks yet. I also fear that the culture around these drugs could develop into an us vs. them mentality. That if it's so easy to be thin, why wouldn't you be? And some are getting dangerously thin on these drugs.

I know some diabetics who are on these drugs, and necessarily so. They tell me that it causes nausea when they eat. That's why they don't eat much. Again, that doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live. If you need it to regulate your blood sugar, that's one thing. But if you don't? Why would you do this to yourself?

My husband is now healed of pancreatitis. It was a miracle. You may not believe in that sort of thing, but I'm telling you, there is no other explanation. We had exhausted every medical solution, then the pandemic hit. We were concerned because hospitals were only taking life or death cases. What if he had a bad attack and needed an iv of pain meds? What would we do? Weeks passed - no pain. A month passed - no pain. Six weeks passed - no pain. He decided to grill a steak - something he hadn't been able to even take a nibble of in 5 years. I watched him take a bite, holding my breath. Nothing. He ate the whole thing. No pain. Five years later, still no pain. The doctors can't explain it, either.

So our story has a happy ending. Not everyone else's does. I hope people take the time to read this. If you do, please, please share it. I don't want anyone suffering needlessly.

[gallusrostromegalus]

If you please; what is your Tolberone theory of knowledge?

My theory, which I thought up a few weeks ago while sick with covid, is that all knowledge is a form of art, and that there are very broadly three basic types of knowledge arts: physical arts, philosophical arts, and scientific arts, and that pretty much all academic, artistic and practical disciplines exist somewhere in that triangle spectrum.

Physical arts are knowledges of how to actually, physically do things. The purest front of physical arts are things like dance and navigation.

Scientific arts are knowledges of things that can be tested and proven. Computer programming and Quilting are both scientific arts: they work, or they don't.

Philosophical Arts are knowledges of things which while not objectively provable, are still very real. History and Being A Good Listener are philosophical arts.

Nearly every discipline of knowledge is some combination of all three. Cooking is largely applied chemistry, a scientific art, but it's also a philosophical art because flavor is extremely cultural and contextual, and a physical art because you have to know how to hold the damn knife and heat when it's done.

The first part of toblerone theory is that, like how each piece has three sides, any given project needs at least one person who has a good grasp of each of the underlying arts involved or it's going to go sideways at best. For example:

Physical and Scientific arts, no philosophy: Jurassic Park. They need someone to point out that, while very possible, it's not necessarily a good idea.

Philosophy and Science, no physical: that dril tweet about the forum debate locked by a mod after 12,000 pages of heated debate. They need someone to drag them away from the keyboard and actually do something.

Philosophy and Physical, no science: that cult in midsommar that put a guy in a bearsuit. Without the ability to engage measurably with the world, they give into fear and behave like reactive animals. Also the "rare chicken steak" phenomenon.

You can have differing ratios of each type- Jurassic Park really only needed two philosophers: one animal behaviorist and an OSHA inspector, and 98% of the issues would have been avoided- but you do need at least ONE of each underlying art to check each other's work.

The second part of toblerone theory is that, like how the toblerone is made of many triangle pieces, there are poles to the triangle spectrum. Practical vs Esoteric arts. Short term and long term arts. High stakes vs for funsies arts.

While you have have different ratios and levels of expertise in each of the arts, you do all need them to be on the same piece of the bar, or they won't take each other seriously. A UN Diplomat and a climate scientist aren't going to take the advice of physical artist my uncle Bobby the plumber re: global warming, but they will take the advice of physical artist my Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer, a world expert in getting shit done.

The same applies for the other end of the spectrum. Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer isn't going to get much milage with the local high school student council and principal Waley when the problem at hand is "what are we going to do for this year's prom theme?"

I gotta go to therapy now, pictures later.

[sentient-stove]

He could already see how that conversation would go over. Danny would go ‘hey, sorry me and my parents killed one of your adopted wards, twas an accident really, some twat of an investor turned on the ecto-collider while he was standing in it and Timothy got fried with enough radiation to mutate a steak back into the cow. Oopsies.’

And then Bruce mcFucking Wayne would throw him in Blackgate for murder before Danny got the chance to explain that hey, no, the guy isn’t dead, the Fentons just accidentally turned another teenager into a half dead abomination yippee. Pack it up cause the government absolutely loved the concept of debating if it was vivisection or dissection when cutting open a halfa. Mr. Wayne was pretty wealthy though so maybe Tim wasn’t gonna have to worry about the finer definitions on vivi vs dissect? Rich people paid off the government all the time, there was a reason why people like Vlad and Lex Luthor got away with so much bullshit.

He prodded the body with a foot. Tim did not so much as twitch.

There was the slow pulse of a core though, slower than the mock heartbeat that Danny’s core liked to hover at, and Tim did appear to be breathing- as much as a half dead person could- so Danny wasn’t too concerned about the unconsciousness quite yet. Once Mom was back with the Ecto-Dejecto then they could stick Tim and he’d be about as right as acid rain. Minus the whole,, traumatizing death and all that.

[solitude4chiron]

Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

[meiyudo]

Out Back

Linecook! Anakin x F!Reader

a/n: lol this literally took me so long I’m so sorry!! But I’ve been craving a lil modern ani WORKING MANNNN anyways hehe here it is.

NSFW mdni!

Anakin is in a mood and you intend to get to the bottom of it

Warnings: gn!reader, cursing, banter, hand job, unprotected sex, cum, outdoor sex, almost getting caught, anakin is a moody brat

________________________

“Yea- I got it!” Anakin annoyedly shouted through the window for the nth time as waitresses flew through the kitchen shouting changed to orders- changes Anakin had to fix. 

More char, too rare, more seasoning, no tomatoes in the salad, parm crust

Anakin was more irritable than normal today for some reason but no one could quite pinpoint why. He was usually a flirty ��know it all” but today everyone was walking on eggshells around him. 

He brushed his sweat sheened forehead against the sleeve of his black t-shirt before continuing to flip the line of steaks in front of him. He wasn’t the only one in the kitchen, but today he was working with a bunch of newbies and he was struggling to correct their mistakes while keeping up with demand. 

“Shit! Watch where the fuck you’re going!” Anakin yelled when one of the new cooks crossed over from the salad station to the grills without letting the others know. 

“Say behind if you’re gonna be crawling around people- Fuck!” Anakin shouted angrily. 

The other cook bit his tongue and nodded like a puppy that had just been scolded for chewing on the furniture. 

The manager had been watching Anakin’s increasingly bad mood and was debating stepping in. 

You arrived for your shift 15 minutes early, just like always and headed to the POS station to clock in. Your manicured nails clicked against the greasy screen before logging you in. 

“Finally- Bout time you got here, rush has been killin’ us today” Hera said in passing as you tied your server's apron around your waist. 

“What do you mean “finally”?! I worked night shift and had to stay to help Ahsoka close til 1 am and I’m still 15 min early” you half laugh- half snapped back at the older server. 

You passed by the food window to see if a certain someone was working; lo and behold he was. Anakin always looked so focused when he was in the kitchen, you could say that after months of observing the slight furrow of his brow when mixing the salads or when his tongue peeked out of the side of his mouth when he was plating dishes to run. 

But what you noticed most of all was his alluring appearance; to you, it seemed he should be on the cover of a magazine rather in a small dingy kitchen in the back of some random restaurant in the city. 

His angular face and sharp features had every new waitress fawning over him- and of course he flirted right back; no one knew his relationship status but one could only guess he had none. 

When you first applied, he flirted with you during your interview before being swatted away by your manager. You left feeling as if you were special based on how he acted. 

But once you actually started working there you heard all the rumors. He had gotten with most, if not all of the other waitresses (even some of the married ones). The other woman warned you not to get too attached because he never stayed in one place long and was seemingly scared off by commitment or anything other than maybe a two time hook up. 

That wasn’t really your thing so you decided not to get involved at all- of course you still flirted with him, but you kept the extent of that in the kitchen. 

“Hey hotshot- how’s rush serving ya?” You joked through the window as you grabbed the newest salad to run to table 10. 

Anakin had been so focused that he barely registered anyone was even in front of him but once he picked up on your sweet voice his head snapped up. 

He was about to respond in his normal flirty manner but then he remembered what had him in such a bad mood in the first place… you. 

Servers get discounted meals if they come in on their days off and the last time he worked it just so happened that you were not. When he overheard the other girls talking about your appearance he was going to go out and chat it up- that was until he saw you sitting across from another man. 

From further observation he deducted that it wasn’t a cousin or brother, nor was it a long term friend… you were on a date. And Damn did you look good.

Anakin was no stranger to the fuck boy lifestyle and keeping a nonchalant attitude about others; but something about you sitting there with someone else struck a chord in him. 

He realized that the past few months of “flirting” with the new girl had turned into actual pining.

As much as he hated to admit it- he was attached. 

At first he chalked the unfamiliar feeling of desire to being annoyed that you weren’t falling for his normal tricks that worked on everyone else.

But then he actually spent more time with you; accompanying him for his smoke breaks out back, complimenting him on his precision and skill in the kitchen, when he drove you home when your car was in the shop… 

Somewhere in between all of that he found himself really wanting something more than just a hookup with you. And everyone in the kitchen could tell, except you. 

He never flirted with anyone else when you were around and kept his other comments to a minimum even when you weren’t there. He stopped answering any of the late night texts asking for him to come over from other waitresses (causing a few to quit). 

The other cooks in particular noticed how much he blushed when you entered the kitchen- and no, that much redness was not just caused by the heat of the grill. 

All of his suppressed feelings came to a head when he saw you smiling away in that booth yesterday with a guy that wasn’t him. 

“Fine.” He grumbled out to you as he tossed up the next plate to the window. 

You took his cold response as him just being tired and swiftly ran the food. 

Once you came back he had moved to the grill station with his broad back to you.  

A bit odd- Anakin never gave up an opportunity to talk to you. But whatever, he was just in a mood. 

The rest of the day went by with the normal rush but once the clock hit 4:00 pm, you clocked out to take your break. You passed the cooks area on the way to the back and didn’t see Anakin, he must be on his break too. 

Instead of sitting on your phone, scrolling through your friend’s posts- you set out to find the sandy haired cook. There really were only two places Anakin would be on break: the bathroom or out back to smoke a cig; the latter being more likely. 

The cool fresh night air was a relief compared to the stuffy hot kitchen that you had been running around all day. Without having to even look over you could already smell the tell tale smoke of Anakin’s Lucky Strikes. 

You approached the moody cook quietly and took a seat next to him on top of the transport crates. 

“Finally found you- have you been avoiding me, hot shot?” you joked, using a nickname you had been calling him since you knew that the flirting wasn’t anything to read into with him. 

He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke out of his nose and slowly turning towards you. 

“No but if I were trying to, it obviously didn’t work,” he said coldly. 

Maybe he actually was upset…

“What's going on with you today Anakin?” you asked, genuinely concerned. 

“Since when do you care?” he snapped, making you instinctively pull back. 

He noticed your aversion towards his words and immediately cursed himself; he took another drag and hung his head. 

“I-I just wanted to check on you… but I’ll leave you alone now” you said solemnly as you stood from your place beside him. 

Before you could get your hand on the door he called out your name, making you turn to see him looking straight at you. 

“What Anakin?” you sighed, no matter his attitude you just couldn’t get rid of the soft spot you had for him (maybe deep down you still liked him). 

He took a deep breath and put his cig out on the side of the crate he was sitting on. Was he really about to reveal the real reason he was being so dramatic? God, how embarrassing. 

“Friday… who was that guy you were with?” 

It took you a minute to even remember who he was referring to but once you did you groaned and hid your face in your hands.

“That’s my best friend’s older brother- he’s been trying to get with me since I was a sophomore in high school”.

Anakin felt his heart skip (now he was really embarrassed).… He didn’t fuck up his chances, but he needed to act quickly- that was too close. 

You cringed at the memory of the date until you realized why Anakin would have asked that in the first place and a playful smirk found its place onto your face: “But why do you ask?”.

“Cause I want you” he said, eyes filled with passion. 

Wow. You really weren’t expecting him to be so forward. 

“Well you want everyone” you brushed it off with a light laugh.

“No. Not like this.” He could feel his body heating up- he hadn’t genuinely confessed to anyone in ages nor had he wanted someone so bad. 

“What are you talking about Anakin?” you asked shyly as he guided you back to your place beside him. 

“Ever since you walked through that door on your interview day… I just can’t get you out of my mind and I just…” he trailed off before looking back down at his calloused hands. 

“Do you say that to every girl who doesn’t immediately fall for you?” you scoffed as you shook your head. 

It sounded so cliche and honestly you weren’t convinced. But maybe it was also because you were realizing how much you wanted him… you just couldn't afford to be hurt. 

“I’m being serious- and no… I don’t” he said seriously- he was deeply regretting the persona he had been assigned with. 

Anakin watched anxiously as you sat quietly, lost in thought. Eventually he had a juvenile idea (but it might just work), he pulled out his phone and went back to a text conversation he had with his best friend, Ben Kenobi, and showed you the screen. 

You’ll be fine Anakin, about time you actually get your feelings in check

What do u mean?

I just mean it has been awhile since you’ve actually shown genuine interest in someone

…

Exactly. 

Once you scanned those he took the phone back and scrolled further down. 

Fuck Ben, I feel like i’m losing my mind I cant stop thinking abt her. 

Anakin, just ask her out.

Dude, its not that simple… like she thinks I’m just a fuckboy, idk every time I try to get more serious she just brushes it off- It just sucks cause I’m the one that made this image of myself

You know I cannot lie to you, you did. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t fix it now. 

You really didn’t know what to say… he seemed really genuine. In a way you felt a small bit of joy that he had been in his head about you because he had been doing to same to you. 

“Anakin… I really don’t know what to say?” You mumbled softly. 

“Say you’ll give me a chance- say you feel the same-“

His vulnerability was endearing and something in you just felt he was truthful and quite frankly, you did feel the same. Anakin watched with bated breath as he scanned your face for any sign of answer. 

His lips parted as he was about to ask another question when you grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. 

His blue eyes widened once he realized what you had done, but soon closed them in contempt, desperately returning the passion. 

You were about to break away when he pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss, his experience was definitely evident now. 

Soon he stood and motioned you to wrap your legs around his waist as he took you behind the shipping containers so that you weren’t directly in the line of the door. 

He held a strong hand behind your head as he pressed your back against the brick wall and began to move his kisses downwards. 

“Oh Ani” you moaned as he nibbled and sucked the most sensitive parts of your neck. 

He felt his dick twitch at the nickname, “Fuck, call me that again beautiful” he groaned into your neck as you raked your fingers through his sandy locks. 

“Ani-“ you gasped as he pressed his muscular thigh right against your throbbing core. 

“Ride it, babe” he huffed through his nose. 

And ride it you did. He knew just what angles to move his leg to make it the most pleasurable for you. 

You worked your clit against his tight muscles and felt your panties becoming soaked. Whimpers and pathetic mewls escaped your throat each time he tensed. 

Anakin could hardly contain himself as he watched the scene in front of him unfold. The way your smaller hands pawed at his biceps, the way your cute little thighs tensed around his much larger one, your absolutely beautiful expressions- after imagining what you would look like for so long, none of his fantasies compared. 

Soon his attention was pulled back to the present when he felt one of your eager hands tugging off his leather belt. Oh shit- this is really happening.

“My God Ani” you gasped once you pulled his jeans down enough to see his straining erection. 

He had on basic black briefs but what wasn’t basic was his size. Of course in the past you had imagined what he might look like outside of work (or outside of clothes) but none of that could have prepared you for the reality. 

“What?” he asked with a confident tone. 

You halted your movements on his thigh to really focus on what you were seeing. His rock hard member throbbed in anticipation of your soft touch; a small wet patch formed around his tip. The sight mesmerized you; you couldn’t count how many times you had imagined how he would look and finally… you were about to find out. 

“You can touch it, you know,” he said, tilting his head slightly. 

Of course you wanted to touch it- you wanted to touch him more than anything, but suddenly you were feeling shy. What if he had better in the past? What if you weren’t good enough for his liking and he took everything back?

Anakin must have noticed your wonder and hesitation because he guided your smaller hand towards his clothed cock with a smile, “it’s alright, you don’t have to be shy”. 

Once your warm palm wrapped around the thinly clothed member, Anakin sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes- his cock throbbed in your hand as you tested the waters by sliding your palm against the fabric. 

When you felt you were ready, your fingers creeped up towards the elastic waistband and nimbly gripped the edge. You watched intently as every drag of your finger revealed more and more of Anakin’s tanned skin until a few wiry hairs appeared and finally his fully erect cock popped out from its confines. Anakin gasped as his cock slapped the side of your hip. 

You wasted no time wrapping your hand around him and running a gentle thumb over his slit. Soon Anakin shoverd your bottoms off as well and began running his skilled fingers between your folds. He was mesmerized by you and couldn’t decide where to look; your hands pumping his long member, his hands between your shaky thighs, or your pretty face twisted in pure ecstasy. 

You couldn't take it any longer, you needed to feel him- feel every vein, every groove, every pulse-

“Anakin, need you in me” you whimpered into his ear as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. 

Anakin thought briefly about the possibility of security cameras catching the two of you, but he figured if they were working- they had already seen enough to know what was about to happen. 

“Fuck it” he muttered before flipping your around and lining himself up with your dripping heat. In one swift movement, he entered you and moaned at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls enveloping him. He thrusted in and out of your hole with wild ferocity as he chased his long awaited high. But once you began lifting your hips to angle him deeper, he lost it. 

“Fuck- Fuck!” he swore while he braced himself against the wall with one hand to regain his composure. 

His thighs trembled as he reluctantly pulled out of you and flipped you around to face him; never had ANakin looked so focused- not even in the kitchen. Suddenly he slammed you back down onto his cock with a guttural moan when the back door busted open and your very frantic manager called out, “Skywalker, you back here?! We need ya back on the line”. 

Anakin grit his teeth and buried his face into your neck to let out a few more grunts before clearing his throat and exclaiming, “Yea- sorry, lemme just put out my cig”.

You struggled to keep quiet as Anakin’s skilled fingers worked your clit as you bounced on his dick. When he deemed you too loud to stay discreet, he placed an uncalculated hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence you. 

“Alright- just hurry it up” your manager yelled before rushing back in. 

Anakin barely had time to turn his head back to you before you took one of his slender fingers into your mouth, sucking and sliding your tongue around it as you made intense eye contact. 

“Ohh fuck” Anakin groaned under his breath before his beautiful blue eyes rolled back. 

And with a particularly tight spasm of your core, he felt himself letting go- 

“-m gonna- I’m gonna cum… shit- I’m gonna cum” he babbled as he jetted in and out of you in his final stretch. 

“P-pullout? D’ya need- need me to pull out?” he whimpered in desperation- if you didn’t give an answer soon, he wouldn't be able to help but cum inside. 

You nodded your head, partially expecting him to be annoyed with you, but he just nodded and quickly halted his movements and effortlessly lifted you off of him. Anakin’s eyes darted between your lower stomach, pussy, eyes and ground as if to ask where he should finish. You signaled to your stomach because that would be the easiest to clean up. Once he got your answer he almost immediately came; ropes of his warm, thick seed landed on your soft skin causing you to tense at the sensation. Anakin pumped his dick a few more times before leaning into you with labored breaths. 

“Holy shit” he breathed, causing you to laugh a little. 

Once his high washed over him and he stood without being dizzy he kissed you- “I’m so sorry I made a mess, I’ll clean you up with my apron”. 

He searched your eyes for just a moment before saying, “I know we got cut short and I'm so sorry that I have to go back in, but you should meet me after work so we can have all of the time in the world”. 

You smiled at his words and kissed him again as he cleaned up his spend. 

“And next time I'll take you on a proper date… I’m sorry our first time was out back- I fully intend on making that up to you. So what'd ya say? Give me another chance?” he said with a genuine smile. 

“Of course Ani- of course I will” 

***

Hope that was enjoyable for I guys haha- ik I liked it ;) also sorry again for my long wait periods 😭

[echantedtoon]

SEDUCTION: UPPER/LOWER MOONS

You try to seduce your demon husband/wife as a means to get outside or distract him enough to get what you want.. However it does the exact opposite of what you aim for.

Warnings for Douma/Karaku/Enmu being their own warnings, possibly some innuendos.

Daki and Zohakutan are mentioned but only PLATONICALLY!!

I'm having a lot of fun writing these scenarios.

You were tired of this now

A you wanted was to go outside for a few hours enjoy the sun or the beautiful night sky full of stars for a little while. But every single time you asked it was always variations of the same answer.

"No. It's too dangerous during these times. You're much safer with me." or "What if a slayer finds out your husband/wife happens to be a demon?! You think they'd spare your life?! They'd kill you on the spot without hesitation!" or "Alright but I'm going with you. It's not up for debate."

This you were never truly able to get a moment to yoursel. Don't get you wrong. You loved your husband/wife to death and would do anything for them! You knew what you signed up for when marrying a demon and right now was a tense time for their kind. But you just wanted FIVE MINUTES ALONE WITHOUT HIM/HER HOVERING OVER YOUR SHOULDER OR CHECKING ON YOU EVERY FIVE MINUTES!!

Although maybe you'd have a solution-

"Try seducing him/her!"

You choked on the green tea and coughed a few times staring at your cousin like she was crazy. Currently you sat in your family home wanting to visit them. Of course your husband/wife insisted on coming too and thus dawned a human disguise to visit his/her in-laws. Right now he/she was having a pleasant conversation with your father discussing the more efficient ways to hunt between a bow and Arrow and a new invention called a gun. They seemed actually interested in the conversation so they didn't notice the talk you had with your cousin venting to her about your husband's/wife's overprotective nature. However you weren't planning on those words to come tumbling outta her mouth with a cheeky smirk.

"Excuse me?!"

"You heard me. How do you think I got a rich husband who spoils me?"

"My husband/wife isn't that shallow. A-And that'll never work!"

"Look. You tried everything from bargaining to fighting right? Why not give it a shot? Flattery will sometimes get you somewhere despite what they say."

...Well she did have a point. Nothing you had tried so far had worked, maybe a little bit of flirtation and flattery would work. And your cousin's right. There really wasn't anything to lose since at most he/she would just be amused or annoyed at your actions and spouses flirted with each other all the time. So next time your husband/wife left for 'work' you decided to kick it into over drive.

When your husband/wife returned later two days at night. The home was unusually quiet and dark but he/she detecting no one else around and senses that you were still moving around inside so they assumed you were probably in the middle of going to sleep. They just let themselves in as always sliding the door open but paused eyes widening. The house was completely spotless, not that it was dirty in the first place, but it seemed as if Even the ceiling was polished. A trail of red and pink petals leading away from the door and towards the kitchen where he/she already found a table of fresh raw steak waiting for them lit by candlights.

Needless to say his/her brow rose. Ok. You definitely wanted something because it wasn't your anniversary or any special occasion.

"Y/n, I'm home!", he/she called from the kitchen doorway.

They await hearing your footsteps but are surprised when you turn the corner and are dressed up to the nines. A beautiful patterned flowing Kimono and make up to match as you stand there nervously before attempting to look sultry at them..but it just makes you look nervous.

"O-Oh. I didn't hear y-you come in." They hear the stutter in your nervous look as you attempt to strut, tripping over the kimonos folds and falling on your front, only to quickly scramble back up onto your feet and place a hand on the wall next to him/her with a seductive(hilarious looking and nervous-) grin. "But I-Im glad y-y -you're back! Do you like the surprise? I w-worked solo ha-hard on it just for YOU."

Eyes slowly blink at your already sweating face looking you up and down. Slowly blinking and then your finally get their answer-

KOKUSHIBO:

Six eyes slowly blink one after another at you looking you up and down ... before he sighs briefly closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your smile disappears as he just continues shaking his head no at you.

"This ..will not work on me. You should know better than that..However."

You let out an adorable squeak as a finger and his thumb tilts your head up towards his leaning form.

"I can not complain about the gesture. Go change into something you won't trip over and we'll have dinner together."

DOUMA:

He waits until your smile disappears completely after you get nothing but one of his famous Big eyed stares from him. It's only then that he giggles and a second later you're snatched up into his arms with a squeal.

"Oh my. Is this for me?~ How generous of my little wife to surprise me with such a beautiful display. You wouldn't mind if I just jump straight to desert would you?~"

You gulp when he leans in to affectionately rub his forehead into yours with a growl sounding an awful lot like a purr.

You had a feeling this backfired-

AKAZA:

"...PFFT- HAHAHA!"

You're taken off guard when Akaza just doubles over in loud laughter ringing off the walls and filling the house. He can't help it. When you fell over your dress and then got back up to try and seduce him was the funniest thing he's ever seen! Your cute pout was also not very convincing to him.

"I-Im sorry! Hehehehe! It's just when you tried acting like an oiran-..HAHAHA! I swear I love this Bu-But you looked so cute trying to se-seduce me! *snort*"

"Well then you can clean up all the petals yourself and sleep in the basement!"

He wheezed as you cutely stomp away as he holds up a hand.

"N-No! Wait! You are adorable I promise!"

HANTENGU+CLONES:

You're surrounded by your husbands all giving you mixed reactions to your display..it was not what you expected. The first one to speak out was Urami who immediately pointed towards your bedroom.

"Go change into something decent, Woman! What are you thinking dressing up like that?!"

Sekido and Aizetsu are speechless. Staring at you wide eyed and red faced because you looked so pretty but Sekido eventually yanked you away from Karaku. Urogi just sat on the floor laughing loudly when you fell and Hantengu sneakily went into the kitchen to eat all the food before anyone noticed. Only Karaku really reacted by growling out and pulling you into a hug as Zohakutan mentally gags in disgust inside Sekido.

"Why waste such a once in a life time opportunity such as this?~ And after she went through all the trouble.~"

You proceeded to get yanked away by Sekido who lectured you with Urami on proper wear.

GYOKKO:

He doesn't respond to you at first only continuing to stare at you from his pot before his entire face scrunched up scrutinizing your outfit.

"What are you WEARING?!" He asked in such a way that made it like he stepped in goop.

"Um...A oiran's attire?"

"Well first of all that is definitely not your color! Secondly it's too large for you! An oiran's beautiful gown is supposed to flow behind them on the breeze of their footsteps. NOT MAKE YOU LOOK LIKE A TODDLER PLAYING DRESS UP WITH HER MOTHER'S ROBES!! And that hairstyle is totally wrong-...You know what? Cancel dinner! I'm going to teach you the proper art of dressing like the beautious women."

Turns out he's more offended by the fact that your wardrobe is a mess than you actually trying to reduce him and it got you a six hour half lecture half dress up session from the demon.

NAKIME:

Her eyebrow raises looking you up and down for a moment before glancing back at how much effort you put into everything before sighing.

"You could just ask me instead of going through all the trouble."

"You don't like it?"

"I do but just dinner would have been fine. Seeing you make a mess of our flower garden is just irritating."

Her hand motions to the flower petals on the floor and you feel embarrassed how she knew you practically destroyed your garden.

GYUTARO(+PLATONIC DAKI MENTIONED):

Gyutaro.exe has stopped working. His eyes go wide open, jaw slacked, and his entire face turns the deepest red. Meanwhile Daki is giving you a thumbs up from around the corner. Nothing like bribing your sister-in-law to help you dress up to impress her brother.

"What D-Do you think? Pretty huh?.....Gyutaro?"

"P-Pretty."

"Thank you. N-Now about dinner-"

"Pretty."

"Yes. I-"

"Pretty."

"Hun-"

"Pretty-"

Turns out you completely broke his brain seeing his already pretty wife dress up so attractively.

KAIGAKU:

His mind honestly blue screens for a long moment looking you over and over...A pink hue covers his face as his pointed ears pin back to his head. He has to forcibly turn his head away and pretend interest in the food to avoid you seeing the fluster on his face. His voice sputters and he quickly covers it by shoving the raw steak into his maw...but the pink tips of his ears aren't fooling you. Although maybe you did go too far because he doesn't communicate with you until you change back because he won't allow you to see his face.

HAIROU:

He doesn't say anything about it for a long time only looking at you up and down as you nervously still smile awkwardly up at him... Before he clears his throat and calmly takes off his cape before plopping it over your shoulders.

"The surprise is-...I-I-Its nice bu-bu-but you shouldn't have."

He really likes it however and the blush on his face is not helping him to hide how he really feels.

KYOGAI:

He asks you if you're ok from falling over and once you confirm that you are ok he just silently staring at you for a long while before he slowly turns inhumanly slowly towards the candlelight dinner before back to the rose petals on the floor. Before his bottom lip wobbled and honest tears start falling from his eyes as a sob escaped his throat.

"I-I lov-v-ve you so much!"

He's overwhelmed by the fact you'd do something so romantic just for him and he's crying out of happiness. Give him a second. He'll kiss you after but first he needs a second to blabber about how much he loves you.

ENMU:

You don't get time to react before he was upon you. Giggling like a mad man before wrapping his arms around you and pulling your squeaking form against his chest and leaning so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

"Oh darling.~ You could've just told me you felt lonely.~ Going through all this trouble..But I admit, I find you rather ravishing.~"

Maybe you should've just stuck to dinner-

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 16

word count: 5.0k

i've hidden some small things within my story that make up aspen and harry, have you guys noticed any? 🤭 where should i turn the story to from here? more dates, more intimacy, group activities, etc! let me know & thanks for all the support!

The next day, Aspen had cleared her schedule, wanting to use the free time for something meaningful. Her evening had been a whirlwind of laughter and warmth, spent with Isobel in her bed as they dissected every detail of Aspen's first official date with Harry. Takeout containers littered the nightstand, barely touched, because they were too engrossed in giggling over Harry's sweet words and Aspen's recounting of every look, every laugh, and every moment of connection.

Today felt different. There was a quiet kind of excitement humming in Aspen's chest, the kind that made her toes curl against the floor and her heart flutter every time she thought of surprising Harry. She'd been up early, not out of necessity but because the thought of doing something thoughtful for him gave her a sense of purpose she didn't often feel in her quieter routines.

Her plan was simple but heartfelt: bring Harry lunch. She'd realized, after observing how carefree and spontaneous he seemed, that he probably didn't bother with packing himself meals. He struck her as the kind of guy who either grabbed something quick or skipped lunch entirely. The thought tugged at her, making her want to do something about it.

Aspen had spent her morning channeling her rare bursts of culinary motivation into creating something she hoped Harry would love. The kitchen had filled with the warm, savory aroma of steak bites sizzling in butter, the citrusy tang of cilantro lime red rice, and the comforting, creamy scent of mac and cheese bubbling on the stovetop. Cooking wasn't something Aspen did often, but when she did, she poured herself into it entirely. Each stir, each sprinkle of seasoning, carried her thoughts to Harry—how he'd smile when he opened the container, the way he might tease her for going through so much effort, and how he'd hopefully enjoy every bite.

When the meal was ready, she carefully packed it into a container, sticking a pink sticky note on the lid. She spent longer than she'd admit debating what to write, eventually settling on a simple but warm message:

For my favorite person. I hope you love it! ❤️ —Aspen

The little heart at the end made her blush as she stuck the note firmly in place. It was bold for her, but she wanted to leave him with a tiny piece of her feelings—nothing overwhelming, just enough to make him smile.

Aspen slid the container into her light pink lunch bag, patterned with scattered white stars, and tucked in a bottle of water and a Redbull, knowing he might need the energy boost. Napkins and a fork were added as the final touches. Checking her phone, she noted the time—she had about thirty minutes before his usual break, just enough to pull everything together.

She dashed upstairs, her heart fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. After rummaging through her clothes, she decided on the grey flared leggings from the other night, paired with her trusty Converse. For her top, she grabbed the shirt she'd "borrowed" from Harry—it still smelled faintly of him, which made her cheeks flush as she pulled it on and tied it in the back to better fit her frame.

Aspen worked quickly, brushing her hair and pulling it into a simple half-up, half-down style. She swiped on a light coat of mascara, just enough to make her eyes pop, and dabbed tinted lip balm on her lips, giving them a subtle sheen. Glancing at her reflection, she smoothed the shirt over her waist, trying to quiet the small voice in her head wondering if she looked okay. It wasn't about being perfect—Harry had already seen her in her coziest clothes—but she wanted to feel confident and put-together.

With her tote bag and lunch bag slung over her shoulder, she took a deep breath, her heart thudding softly in her chest. The thought of surprising Harry, of seeing the look on his face when she handed him the meal she'd made with him in mind, made her smile. It was a small gesture, but one she hoped would let him know how much he meant to her.

As she locked the door behind her and stepped into the bright spring afternoon, the warmth of the sun seemed to echo the warmth in her heart. Today, she wasn't just thinking about Harry—she was showing him how much she cared, in her own quiet, thoughtful way.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The bell above the tattoo shop's door jingled softly as Aspen stepped inside, her lunch bag clutched tightly in one hand. She paused just inside the threshold, taking in the space that felt both familiar and slightly intimidating. The red-accented walls were lined with framed artwork and sketches, a testament to the creativity that buzzed within these walls. Aspen adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder, her heart racing—not from fear, but from anticipation.

Zayn was the first to notice her. He was behind the counter, flipping through the appointment book, and his face lit up when he saw her. "Well, if it isn't little miss Aspen," he greeted warmly, leaning casually on the counter. "What brings you here today?"

Aspen offered him a shy smile, shifting on her feet. "Hi, Zayn. I, um... I'm here to see Harry."

Zayn's brows lifted, his grin widening with mischief. "Here to see Harry, huh?" His tone was teasing, but not unkind. He gestured toward the back of the shop with his chin. "He's in his office. Go on back."

Before Aspen could move, another voice chimed in—Niall, sitting in the nearby waiting area, sketchpad in hand. "Ooh, Harry's got visitors now? And bringing lunch, too? Look at him, living the dream." His Irish lilt made the teasing even more playful, and Aspen could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Shut up, you two," came Harry's familiar voice from somewhere behind them. He appeared a moment later, his flannel sleeves rolled up, ink staining the tips of his fingers. His green eyes softened the moment they landed on Aspen. "Hey, love," he said, the corner of his mouth curving into a lopsided grin. "You didn't tell me you were coming."

Aspen smiled nervously, lifting the lunch bag a little as if to explain herself. "I thought I'd surprise you... I figured you might not have had lunch."

Harry's gaze flickered to the bag, then back to her, and something warm and unspoken passed between them. "Y'know me too well," he said softly. Then, turning to Zayn and Niall, he added, "Don't you two have something better to do than nose into my business?"

"Not a chance," Niall quipped, earning a laugh from Zayn. "You're the entertainment, mate."

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't bother responding. Instead, he placed a hand lightly on Aspen's lower back, guiding her toward the hallway that led to his office. "C'mon, let's get out of here before they make it worse."

Aspen's skin tingled where his hand rested, and she couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder. Zayn gave her a wink, and Niall mimed a slow clap, his grin wide. They exchanged a look between each other, surprised at Harry's sudden softness. 

She turned forward quickly, her cheeks flushing even more. "They seem... nice," she murmured. Harry chuckled, his voice low and warm. "Nice isn't the word I'd use, but they mean well."

When they reached his office, Harry pushed the door open and gestured for Aspen to step inside first. The space was small but cozy, with sketches pinned to the walls and a desk covered in art supplies and paperwork. A worn leather couch sat against one wall, and the scent of ink and faint traces of cologne lingered in the air.

"Make yourself at home," Harry said, shutting the door behind them. He leaned back against it for a moment, watching as Aspen set her bag down on the desk. There was something about the way she moved, so quietly yet purposefully, that tugged at his chest. And he would be lying if he said his eyes didn't wander lower, lingering on how her gray leggings hugged the beautiful curve of her ass. He looked back up with a small smirk when she turned back to face him.

Aspen glanced around, taking in the little details of his space. It felt so him—creative, a little messy, but warm. She carefully unzipped the lunch bag, pulling out the container and setting it in front of him. "I, um, made this for you," she said softly. "I hope it's okay... I wasn't sure what you'd like, but..."

Harry stepped closer, reaching out to lift the container's lid. The smell of the warm food hit him immediately, and his eyes widened slightly. "You made all this?" he asked, looking at her in surprise.

Aspen nodded, twisting her hands together nervously. "I thought... maybe you don't bring lunch with you? And I just wanted to, you know... do something nice for you."

Harry stared at the meal for a moment, then back at her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he smiled—a slow, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "You didn't have to do this," he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. "But... thank you, Aspen. Really."

Her heart fluttered at the way he said her name, the warmth in his tone making her feel like she'd done something right. "I just... I wanted to," she admitted, looking down at her hands. "You do so much for me, Harry. I wanted to do something for you, too."

Harry stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm lightly. "You're somethin' else, y'know that?" he said, his voice low. His touch was gentle, grounding, and Aspen felt her nerves settle slightly under his gaze.

They stood there for a moment, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around them like a blanket. For Harry, the thoughtfulness of her gesture was almost overwhelming. He wasn't used to people doing things for him, not like this—not with so much care. And for Aspen, the way he looked at her, like she was the most important person in the world, made her chest feel light and full all at once.

Harry reached down, his hand sliding gently along Aspen's arm as he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn't rushed or demanding, just a quiet moment that seemed to still the world around them. Aspen's breath caught, her eyes fluttering shut as her heart raced in her chest. When he pulled back, his gaze lingered on her face, his green eyes warm and filled with something she couldn't quite name but felt deeply all the same.

"C'mon," Harry murmured, his voice low and coaxing. He slid his hand into hers, guiding her toward the worn leather couch against the wall. Aspen followed, feeling lightheaded but blissfully so, her fingers curling around his instinctively.

As they settled onto the couch, Harry unwrapped the container she'd brought him, his brows raising slightly as he took in the meal. The sight of it—the steak bites perfectly cooked, the fluffy cilantro lime red rice, and the creamy mac and cheese—made something tight in his chest ease. She'd done this for him, thought of him enough to go out of her way. He wasn't used to that kind of care, and it both surprised and humbled him.

He took the first bite, letting out a low hum of approval. "Bloody hell, Asp," he said, looking at her with wide eyes. "This is incredible. You've been holding out on me, haven't you?"

Aspen's cheeks flushed immediately, her fingers twisting in the hem of her borrowed shirt. She ducked her head, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. "I don't cook much," she admitted, her voice soft. "It's kind of rare that I actually feel like doing it."

"Well, I'm lucky you felt like it today," Harry said, taking another bite and savoring it. He glanced at her, his grin softening into something more genuine. "You're spoiling me, baby."

The word "baby" made Aspen's stomach flip, and she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too widely. She couldn't help the warmth spreading through her chest at his words, though, or the way her heart seemed to skip every time he looked at her like that.

As Harry continued to eat, he threw in compliments here and there—about how perfectly seasoned the steak was, how the rice was better than anything he'd had from a restaurant. Each word made Aspen shrink a little further into herself, not because she didn't like the praise, but because it made her feel so seen. She wasn't used to this, to being appreciated so openly, and the intensity of it made her shy.

But as she watched him eat, a different thought began to creep into her mind, one that made her pulse quicken. She wanted to kiss him again. Badly. The way his lips curved into a soft smile as he spoke, the way he licked a stray bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth—it all drew her in, leaving her with a quiet ache she didn't know how to voice. The realization made her blush even more, and she turned her gaze toward the floor, embarrassed by her own thoughts.

Harry, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in her demeanor. He set the container down for a moment, leaning back against the couch as he looked at her. "Y'alright?" he asked, his voice gentle but curious.

Aspen nodded quickly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her leggings. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, though her voice was quieter than usual. She glanced at him, and the intensity of his gaze made her heart stutter. "Just... thinking."

"Thinkin' about what?" Harry asked, tilting his head slightly. He had a feeling he knew, but he didn't want to push her too much. He could tell she was feeling shy, and the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

Aspen hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she looked down again, her blush deepening.

Harry couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped him. "Asp," he said, reaching out to take her hand in his. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, and the touch sent a shiver up her spine. "Y'don't have to say anything if you're not ready. But if i's about me, I'm all ears."

Aspen bit her lip, her gaze flickering up to meet his for a moment before dropping again. "I was just... thinking about... how much I liked—" She broke off, her face flaming as she stumbled over her words. "Never mind."

Harry's grin widened slightly, though his tone remained soft when he spoke. "How much you liked what? The food? Or somethin' else?"

She groaned softly, hiding her face in her hands. "Harry," she said, her voice muffled but filled with exasperation. "You're making it worse."

"Alright, alright," he said, laughing quietly. But he didn't let go of her hand, and the warmth of his touch was enough to steady her nerves. He was patient, waiting for her to speak when she was ready, and that alone made her feel a little braver.

"I was thinking about kissing you," Aspen finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She peeked at him through her fingers, her heart hammering in her chest. "And now I'm all embarrassed, so... yeah."

Harry stared at her for a moment, his chest tightening in a way he hadn't expected. She was so endearingly honest, even when it made her nervous, and he found himself falling for her all over again. "You're somethin' else, Asp," he murmured, his voice soft. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her temple. "Y'don't have to be embarrassed, love. I've been thinkin' the same thing."

Aspen's blush deepened, but this time, there was a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. "You have?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Course I have," Harry said, his tone gentle but firm. "Who wouldn't?"

Aspen fidgeted with her hands as she tucked her legs beneath her on the couch, her blush still lingering as she glanced shyly at Harry. The words danced on the edge of her tongue, but she hesitated, biting her lip as if she wasn't sure if she should say them. He waited, patient as ever, his eyes soft as they studied her face. Finally, she took a deep breath and let the words tumble out.

"Maybe it's the whole... 'I have a boyfriend' thing," Aspen murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I've been thinking about you more than usual. Like... a lot more." She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks burning with the admission.

The corners of Harry's mouth curved into a slow, warm smile. His chest tightened at her honesty, and a wave of gratitude washed over him. He knew how much it took for Aspen to open up like this—how much courage it required for her to let him in on the thoughts she usually kept to herself. That bravery was one of the things he admired most about her.

"Y'know," he said softly, setting the half-eaten container of food aside, "you're so brave, Asp. For tellin' me all this. For lettin' me in." His voice was warm, laced with sincerity, as he leaned forward to take her hands in his. His thumbs traced gentle circles over her knuckles, his touch grounding her in the moment.

Aspen looked down at their hands, her lips curving into a shy smile. "It's easier with you," she admitted. "You make it... safe. Like I can say anything, and it'll be okay."

Harry's heart swelled at her words, and a quiet sense of wonder settled over him. He'd never expected to find someone like Aspen—someone who made him want to be better, softer, more present. He gave her hands a gentle tug, guiding her toward him.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low and coaxing. Aspen hesitated for only a moment before letting him pull her onto his lap. Her hands instinctively went to his shoulders for balance, and his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her securely.

She let out a small, breathy laugh, her cheeks flushing again as she settled against him. "This is so unfair," she mumbled, though her tone was more playful than anything.

"Unfair?" Harry repeated, raising a brow as he gave her a teasing grin. "How's this unfair?"

"You're too... you," she said, gesturing vaguely as if that explained everything.

Harry chuckled, his hands resting gently on her waist as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. His lips lingered there for a moment, and he couldn't help but take in the details of her outfit—the way the leggings hugged her legs, the way his shirt looked impossibly better on her than it ever had on him.

"You're wearin' my shirt," he teased, his voice a low murmur against her skin. His grin widened as he leaned back slightly to get a better look at her. "Didn't think you'd steal from me so soon, love."

Aspen's eyes widened, and she quickly tugged at the hem of the shirt, her blush deepening. "I didn't steal it!" she protested, though her voice was soft and her smile betrayed her. "You didn't mention needing it back, and it was... just there, and it's comfortable, so..."

"So y'stole it," Harry finished for her, his tone light and teasing.

She buried her face in her hands, letting out a soft groan. "You're impossible," she mumbled, though the warmth in her voice gave her away.

Harry laughed, his hand sliding up to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Impossible, huh? Guess that makes two of us," he said, his grin softening as he looked at her. His thumb brushed over her cheek, and he leaned in just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

For a moment, the world outside faded, leaving only the quiet hum of their connection. Aspen felt her heart steady, the nervous flutter settling into something warm and sure. Harry's presence had a way of grounding her, of making her feel like she could let go of the walls she'd spent so long building.

"You're somethin' else, Asp," Harry murmured, his voice filled with quiet reverence. "Y'know that?" Aspen bit her lip, her gaze meeting his. "I think you might've mentioned it," she said softly, her smile shy but genuine. Harry chuckled, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her temple. "Well, I'll keep sayin' it," he promised, his arms tightening around her. "Every chance I get."

Aspen’s fingers moved delicately along Harry’s shirt collar, their slow, rhythmic movements betraying the nervous energy coursing through her. She felt the soft material between her fingers, grounding herself in the moment, but all resolve slipped away when Harry pulled her closer. A small, involuntary sound escaped her lips, blending into a soft giggle as his lips curved into a smirk against hers.

Harry’s hands rested on her hips, his grip firm but reassuring. He tilted his head up to meet her lips, their familiar softness igniting a warmth in his chest. It had been too long—much too long—since he’d kissed her like this, and the moment felt like a long-awaited reunion. The cool press of his lip ring against her skin sent a shiver through her, its gentle nudges against her teeth a comforting reminder of their closeness.

For Harry, kissing Aspen always felt different—more intimate, more profound. Her lips molded perfectly against his, and the subtle gasps she made only fueled his desire to savor every second. It wasn’t just the act itself; it was the way she melted into him, the way her quiet trust was woven into every kiss.

Aspen slid her arms around his neck, her thumbs brushing lightly against the soft curls at the nape of his neck. The sensation made him hum low in his throat, the sound reverberating between them. Her touch was featherlight, reverent, and it made Harry feel cared for in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

Their kisses were slow and tender at first, each one a quiet confession of how much they’d missed this. But when Aspen tilted her head slightly, granting him better access, Harry’s lips parted. His tongue brushed against her bottom lip, and Aspen’s breath hitched. Without hesitation, she parted her lips, letting the kiss deepen.

The moment their tongues met, Aspen’s body instinctively leaned closer, her movements shy yet intentional. The languid motion of their tongues moving together sent a warmth coursing through her, spreading from her chest to her fingertips. Her thumbs brushed gently over the curls at the base of his neck, grounding her in the moment.

For Harry, it was as if time slowed. Every touch, every small sound Aspen made, was etched into his mind. His fingers tightened slightly on her hips as he sat up straighter, his head tilting to match the new depth of their kiss. The soft noise Aspen made from her nose—a quiet exhale laced with pleasure—sent a jolt through him. He didn’t want to stop, but the need to taste more of her overwhelmed him.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled away from her lips, but he didn’t stray far. His lips pressed gently to her jawline, tracing a line of tender kisses down to the side of her neck. Aspen tilted her head instinctively, granting him better access, her cheeks flushed with a deep blush that spread all the way to her neck. The warmth of his mouth against her skin made her dizzy in the best way, and she let her eyes flutter shut as she leaned into his touch.

Though this was only the second time Harry had kissed her like this, the intensity of it all overwhelmed Aspen in the best way. It wasn’t just the physicality of it—it was the way Harry’s touch felt deliberate, the way he seemed to cherish every inch of her. She buried her manicured nails gently into the curls at the back of his neck, her fingers tightening slightly as she let herself sink further into the moment.

Harry’s hands shifted, his fingers splaying out over her hips as they began to wander. He tested the waters carefully, his hands slowly moving toward the curve of her ass.

“This okay?” His voice was low, thick with want but tempered with care, his words murmured between kisses as his lips lingered against her skin.

Aspen’s breath caught at his question, but she nodded, her voice soft yet assured. “Yes,” she whispered, her tone trembling slightly but filled with trust. When Harry kissed that one particular spot on her neck, a breathy whine escaped her lips. “Yes, it’s okay,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry hummed in approval, the sound vibrating against her skin as he kissed her again, focusing on the spot that had made her gasp. His fingers moved lower, trailing over the curve of her ass before gripping gently, pulling her closer against him. She fit against him so perfectly, it almost made his head spin.

“You’re perfect,” Harry whispered against her skin, his lips brushing against her collarbone. He pressed wet, lingering kisses there, his teeth grazing her lightly, just enough to make her shiver. Aspen’s hands tightened in his curls, her soft breaths quickening.

The next sound she made was different, not quite a whine but unmistakably a moan. It was quiet, shy, as if she hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but it made Harry pause for a moment.

She had moaned for him, on his lap, in his office, because of what he was doing. 

Harry groaned softly against her neck, his lips trailing wet kisses along her skin. The nip he gave to her sweet spot drew a quiet gasp from Aspen, followed immediately by a soothing kiss that made her body relax under his touch. She felt warm, wrapped in the cocoon of his arms, and completely consumed by the moment—until a sharp sound jolted her out of it.

Her eyes shot open, her ears now hyper-focused on the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic shot through her like lightning, and her hands quickly slid down from Harry’s neck to his shoulders. She gave him a gentle but urgent push, scrambling off his lap and onto the seat beside him.

Harry blinked in confusion, leaning back against the cool leather as he tried to process what had just happened. His brows furrowed deeply, his green eyes clouded with concern. Had he done something wrong? The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Asp?” His voice was low, tinged with worry as he studied her flushed face. “What happened? Did I—.”

Before he could finish his thought, Aspen shook her head frantically, her soft voice rushing out a series of breathless “no’s.” She was practically vibrating with nerves, her fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt when the door swung open.

There, standing with smug grins and bags of crisps in hand, were Zayn and Niall.

“We just came to check on how your homemade lunch was,” Zayn began, his tone dripping with mock innocence. His gaze flitted between Harry and Aspen, taking in their disheveled state. His grin widened. “But it’s very clear you need some alone time.”

Niall snickered beside him, not bothering to hide his amusement. Harry ran a hand through his wild curls, his face twisting into a scowl.

The picture Zayn painted wasn’t far off. Harry’s hair was a mess, his lips red and slick from their kisses, and Aspen’s face was a shade of crimson that matched the heat she felt radiating from her cheeks. They probably looked the part of being “busy,” and that only added to Harry’s irritation.

“Don’t you dipshits know how to knock?” Harry growled, his voice sharp as his glare bore into them. “Get the hell out.”

Zayn and Niall didn’t seem phased, their laughter echoing as they backed out of the room. They continued to crack jokes through the muffled door, their chatter trailing off as their footsteps faded.

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the sound of Harry letting out a long, exasperated sigh. He leaned back and turned his head to Aspen, his expression softening the moment he saw her face. She was burning red with embarrassment, her wide brown eyes fixed on the closed door as if willing it to lock on its own.

Harry chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as he reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. His fingertips lingered against her cheek, his touch gentle and grounding.

“That was somethin’, huh?” he said, his lips curving into a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry 'bout that, love. Was what I was doing okay? Didn’t scare you off, did I?”

Aspen let out a shaky breath, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she tried to gather her thoughts. Slowly, her eyes peeled away from the door to meet Harry’s.

Her gaze took in everything about him—his unruly curls, his lips still glistening and swollen from their kisses, the cool glint of his lip ring catching the light. He looked confident and composed, as if the interruption hadn’t rattled him at all. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly handsome he was, and the realization only made her blush deepen.

“No, no…” Aspen’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper as she tried to convey her feelings. “It was good. I liked it. Really… liked it, H.”

Her words were sincere, and though her tone was laced with shyness, it carried a weight of gratitude. She appreciated how Harry always checked in with her, how he never took her silence or hesitation as anything but a reason to ensure her comfort.

Harry’s heart swelled at her honesty. He knew how much courage it took for her to open up, and every time she did, it felt like a gift. His lips curved into a small, lopsided grin as he hummed in approval.

“Mmm.” His fingers wrapped gently around her ankle, tugging her closer with ease. “Yeah?”

Before Aspen could process what was happening, Harry guided her down onto the seat, coaxing her to recline fully. She felt her heartbeat thunder in her chest, each pulse so loud she swore it echoed in her ears.

Her breath hitched when Harry nudged her thighs apart with his knee, settling himself between them. The closeness made her head spin, her fingers instinctively reaching up to tangle themselves in his curls at the nape of his neck once again.

Harry’s grin widened, playful and teasing as his gaze roamed over her. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with amusement as he kissed her shoulder and worked his way slowly up the side of her neck.

“’Cause I wasn’t done.”

[sugar-grigri]

Miri does the chair as much as Denji

The chapter confirms the suffering of the hybrids who turn out to be the "weapons" (thank you Fujimoto for confirming at least one of my theories).

But let's go into a bit more detail in this chapter, which only talks about alienation and never about freedom.

What better title than 'A Chair's Feelings', which is a perfect antithesis.

I have the feeling that something specific has happened, let me explain.

Firstly, Fumiko Mifune plays her role as Denji's guard perfectly. She's not protecting him as a person but as the property of the public hunters.

How does she do this? Firstly because she sticks to Denji, but more importantly she seriously disrupts the discussion between Denji and Sugo.

Every time Miri puts an advantage on the table, she questions it. A high position in the church? Chainsaw Man deserves to be guru.

Steak every day? We're getting tired of it, other dishes would be preferable.

The public hunters represent the opressor who uses Denji as a tool. In other words, the entity that Miri is trying to remove Denji from.

But what's particularly interesting is that Miri doesn't demonstrate free will and spits out someone else's arguments.

What's even more fascinating is that Miri thinks he's going to convince Denji with his own arguments, which turns out to be in vain.

Miri seems like someone who operates on principle and has taken on board concepts such as dignity and freedom, which he now intends to protect. Denji doesn't think like that; he needs concrete arguments to engage him.

For example, Miri presents Denji as his liberator. This has no effect on him, as he was unaware of it because it was Pochita who was fighting. Once again, we're projecting onto the figure of Chainsaw Man the image we'd like him to represent here: the first weapon to free himself from the oppressor that was Makima.

But Miri is far from imagining that not only was Denji not conscious, but that he consciously 'saved' Makima by allowing her to become a new version of herself who would be cherished and loved. Because Makima was never the oppressor, she was merely the object of the Japanese government, which surely also used a few weapons.

That's why I think Miri's way of presenting himself is a step backwards. I don't know if it's intentional, but the way his name appears in the dialogue bubbles and the suspension points…… The syntax is important. Miri knows that his name is just a number given to him by his former oppressor.

In fact, that's why he calls Fumiko "sushi-woman" or refers to the students as rubbish; he doesn't think of them as they never thought of him.

Sugo has no intention of forming a relationship with the humans, whom he seems to reject, which clearly shows that weapons are used by humans, not demons.

But Denji grimaces when he sees that he is so easily popular and integrated, and that he would prefer to be rejected.

Miri rejects humans, wanting only to make friends with weapons, while Denji continues to define himself only by humans. One holds a grudge and wants revenge, while the other still prefers integration. Which already demonstrates a fundamental difference.

Swordman's arguments move from the abstract to the concrete. He starts by talking about abstract concepts such as gratitude (Denji saved him), freedom and having a community, and then starts to integrate the concrete.

He already includes food by using the precise line that Denji had used, namely steaks.

Miri isn't interested in the debate about food, deploring Denji's interest in it, and reiterates in a cruder and more brutal form what he was saying before, "being used by bastards", instead of talking about instrumentalisation and freedom. And again, he has to push Denji to confirm this.

It's obvious that Miri, who presents himself as the messenger of the church, either sent by someone or is carrying out someone's order, is contradicting himself and is not yet free. As Fumiko points out.

When Miri confronts Denji, who is still in the chair position, Denji has a more interesting response than it seems: being a chair suits him because he can feel buttocks against his back.

Being a chair means contact, and physical contact with girls. Even if it's a rather perverse line (and far from the most poetic), it shows that Denji is once again interested in being a chair if it allows him to make contact with his own kind. That he has no abstract concept built in like self-esteem or claiming his dignity.

Even becoming a friend is too abstract for Denji, who doesn't react. He will only react when new physical contact is mentioned, reacting unusually comically.

Miri mentions this last argument as a last resort, leaving as if he was already sure it would be pointless. It's as if someone had told him to mention low, childish things like steak and sex because they were the only things that would convince Denji.

There's a clear dichotomy in Miri's speech between the arguments that convinced him (surely used by the church to hire him) and the other kinds of arguments that would convince Denji, whispered to him by someone in the church who knows Denji.

Who knows Denji? No hybrids, they don't have any memories, so surely not Reze.

I like to imagine that it's Kishibe, since the steak and sex with several girls are explicit things that Denji mentioned in front of him when he proclaimed his dream.

He was also the only one to observe the fight between Pochita and Makima. So he's the only one who can tell us about the hybrids' past. If we support his link with the hybrids through Quanxi...

It all ties together!

If we go back to the title... A Chair Feelings. It takes on a whole new meaning.

Note the use of the indefinite article "a" and not "the" when only Denji is doing the chair? Wouldn't a chair be a broader metaphor and category? The chair would be the form of alienation accepted by the weapons. Still not freedom.

In short, Fujimoto questions one thing: is the man who claims to be free so far removed from the man who makes the chair ?

[bellarkeselection]

Okay how about a Kacey fic based off the song When She Comes Home Tonight by Riley Green

When She Comes Home Tonight

Shutting the truck door I sighed heavily resting my body against the driver door taking a moment to rest from my long hour day. I had taken on the position of working for my father’s department at the sheriff’s office. Meaning that I had to hide some things from my boyfriend’s family. Walking up the stairs I opened the door, shutting it behind me and sitting on the floor until I heard footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. “Hey there, darling. How was your day?”

“Would prefer not to talk about it, Kayce.” I mumbled, staring at the staircase in front of me instead of him.

Kayce lowered himself down to sit in front of me. “What do you want to talk about then? Hey, hey, look at me. Y/n, you okay?” He lifted my chin up so I’d look him in the eye seeing some tears welling in my eyes.

“Just the job being tough on me today is all. Debating on why I didn’t just take your father up on his offer to give me a job here. My father certainly wouldn’t be as worried with my stress level.” I sniffed through some tears wiping them away with my sleeve.

John Dutton and my father have been friends for years. Kayce and I were close and I knew everything he knew about training horses on a ranch. Yet I knew the other side that involved the law. I believed I could help both sides. “Well we don’t have to worry about that now. I’ve got something to show you anyhow. Here, let me..” He got to his feet offering his hands out to me.

“What have you done now, Dutton?” Placing my hands in his he tugged me up to stand.

He only gave me a simple response coming behind me and covering my eyes with one hand and leading me through his family home. “You’ll see in a second, baby.”

“Kayce…what is all this for?” He made us stop walking until he lowered his hand and I gasped at what he had set up on the table in front of the fireplace. He had two beers open with a steak cuff in half for us to share for dinner.

Kayce smiled down at me. “It’s been awhile since it’s just been the two of us here. So I thought we should do something special.”

“Awe. Aren’t you a romantic cowboy?” I smiled sitting down with him on the couch.

Kayce picked up his beer, sending me a wink. “I would hope so for what I was thinkin’ of doing later tonight.”

Raising my beer bottle to my mouth I take a long drink. The bitter taste is not burning my throat as much as it normally did, given the fact that I've had a really long day. Kayce and I sat in comfortable silence between the two of us while we ate our pieces of steak. Placing the second to last bite of food in my mouth I felt his eyes focused on me and nothing else. “Dutton, you're staring. You know some would consider this very rude-” I gasped before his hands cupped my face and he pressed his lips down onto mine causing me to drop my fork on the floor.

It wasn't a foreign concept to kiss the youngest Dutton son. We had certainly had a connection from the first day we met. Anyone in our families or friend groups could see the attraction from a mile away. Moving my hands up his chest I leaned into it. He held my face for a few more seconds until I climbed up into his lap. Kayce then switched his position, snacking his arms around my waist holding me close to his chest.

“Kayce..” I moaned into the kiss threading my fingers into his dirty brown locks that were naturally messy but were going to be even worse if we kept going.

He gently pushed me back on the couch and I didn’t make a move to fight his intentions. “Y/n…”

We didn't care about the food in front of us anymore. Our hands were just moving over the other in every way possible. I’m not sure how we managed to not break any furniture by the point of Kayce getting to his feet and me wrapping my arms and legs around his body. We never broke the heated kiss and made our way up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Kayce, I wasn’t expecting this.” I giggled before we collapsed down onto the mattress of the bed behind us.

Kayce leans down, capturing my lips with his in a deep hungry kiss. I kissed him back gently before he started moving kisses down my face. “You’ve had a long day and I’ve missed you so much. Let me take care of you.” He kissed down, nuzzling his nose into my neck as he went.

“Ohh Kayce!” I moaned, throwing my head back against the pillows. One hand was bawling the fabric of his shirt in my fingers.

He moaned, crashing his lips onto mine again where I wrapped my arms around his neck. “That’s my girl.”

“Don’t be a tease tonight, Dutton.” I warned the cowboy.

Kayce sat up on his knees shrugging his shirt over his head tossing it somewhere across the room. He moved his hands down to my shirt. “I’ll definitely tease you later, darling.” He threw my torn shirt off the edge of the bed.

I began to move against him and leaned up pressing my lips down upon his. He embraced me back instantly when my fingers dug into back. He ran his body over every inch of my body he could reach, both of us slick with sweat as he moved against one another, our pants and moans filling the room.

We shortly reached our heights in only a matter of minutes where he drew his head back flipping onto his back while I laid beside him. We both attempted to catch our breaths where I scooted over laying my head on his bare chest. “Kayce?”

“Hmm.” He made a noise as a response.

Lifting my head up to meet his deep brown eyes. “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate it and love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll always want you to have a good evening when you come home tonight and every night.” Kayce rolls over to face me, cupping the side of my face with one hand. He draws me in for another kiss and I smile into it.

Trailing my hands up his chest I broke it mumbling into the kiss. “How would you feel about a round two?”

“I’m definitely down for that, my darling.” He smirked and I squealed when he rolled onto his back. I kept my hands around his neck and I stared down at him from above…Kayce always made me feel so good every time I came home and he never broke that promise.

[yeyinde]

thank you for tagging me @ivymarquis ! i debated between this, the regency fic (fleshed out), or one of the other Price fics i'm working on (home from college for the summer and seducing hot older neighbour Price whomst you had a crush on since sixteen (aka daddy issues, the playbook), DomPrice, etc), but i think the Soap fic will probably be finished before all of those. so, here is the baby trap piece with Soap.

nothing smutty but this def captures their odd, imbalanced dynamic perfectly, i think:

“And you have no cellphone? No satellite phone?”

“Ye can check it—” he makes a flippant motion toward the glove box in front of you. “Deader than ever.”

You hesitate only briefly. Long enough to level him with a searching look that yields no results (every expression hidden behind a thick, unruly forest of overgrown hair jutting out to his Adam's apple) before you reach for the compartment, gingerly pulling it open, and—

Sometimes, things get overlooked by their surroundings. Swallowed in the vacuum. Blending seamlessly into the muddle, the commotion. Or hidden. Can you spot the mountain lion in this tumble of rock and bush?

This isn't like that. 

It sits on top of a manila folder. Sleek black and cold silver. You're not terribly well-versed in guns—the extent of your knowledge stemming mostly from formulaic crime shows aired late at night; CSI, NCIS, Criminal Minds—but you recognise this one instantly. Some sort of handgun. Police issued, you think. It's bigger than you'd expected. Looks heavier, too. 

Your heart stutters. The air galloping out of your lungs in a stammering rush. 

He makes a noise, soft and nonchalant, as if keeping handguns in the glove box of his old, burnt umbre truck is perfectly normal. 

“Fer protection,” he mumbles. You catch the jerk of his chin in your periphery. “Forgot I had it in here. Been usin’ the rifle for huntin’ mostly. Or the shotgun.”

Three guns. You swallow. “Why—” your voice comes out in a brittle whisper. You clear your throat. Pretend it helps, that you don't feel as vulnerable as you sound right now. “Why, um, why do you need three?”

“Not fae around ‘ere, are ye?” He echoes your words from earlier with a wry twist of his mouth, eyes slanting in the sunlight. “Tha’,” he takes his hand off your thigh to jab his finger at the handgun. “Is fer wolverines.” His index finger falls, his thumb juts out. He jerks it over his shoulder. “Tha’ is fer huntin’. The shotgun back home is fer bears.” 

You try to move out of the way when his hand falls back to your thigh, but the pain radiating up your leg immobilizes you. There's not much you can do in this situation but endure.

Military. Wounded in action. Three guns. Touchy. 

You're not sure what to think. It would be easier if you couldn't. 

“What do you hunt?” You ask instead, glancing out the window to the barren landscape rolling out around you. There doesn't seem to be much in the jagged hills, towering mountains. 

“Gettin’ hungry? Donnae worry, doe. Go’ tha’ pesky hare I was tryin’ tae shoot on the ledge fer dinner tonight.” 

It's not much of a comfort. The idea of being injured—by accident, he claims—to such an extent over a rabbit makes you feel a little sick. 

“That's it?” 

“I can make a mean steak outta anythin’. Stews fer tougher meat. Fish, too—whitefish, arctic grayling, and lake trout. Learned how tae make a nasty fishfry from the locals in Nahanni Butte. Bannock, too. Got berries ‘round ma cabin. Caribou, Moose. Taste better in tacos or burgers. Mountain goat, Dall’s sheep. Been eatin’ better ‘ere than ah did at home.” 

“And you're—just allowed to hunt them?” The website advised of a permit through some special outfit needed to hunt when you requested your pass into the park. Said that only aboriginals were allowed to do so. “You're not—”

“Aye,” he cuts you off with a small nod. “No huntin’ in the park. But. We're not in the park anymore.”

“Where are we?” You ask again, firmer this time. 

“I told ye. Nearly home.”

“And where is home?” 

The way he sucks his teeth makes you recoil slightly. Wet. Irritated. As if he's tired of this conversation already. 

“Close.”

You don't let his flat tone deter you. “Are we—are we still in the Northwest Territories?”

“Thereabouts.” 

It's not an answer. It doesn't reassure you in the slightest. 

You open your mouth to say so, words curling on your tongue when he jerks his chin toward the handgun, brow furrowed. 

“Thought ye wanted tae check on the satellite phone.”

His tone is severe. A growl curdling the ends, pitching it down, down. Displeasure, irritation, blooms in the gnarled petals of witch hazel when he narrows them into slits. 

[cod-dump]

My oc is a K9 handler and has definitely tried to click train the 141. Whether it was successful or not is up for debate

141 could possibly be clicker trained.

Ghost particularly loves the sound of the clicker so he’d be the easiest. He actually just loves the sound so he’ll do whatever to hear it. This also means he’d definitely try to steal it, or buy one for himself. Keep that in mind.

Soap fucking loves food so if the clicker means food and then hell yea he’ll listen. He’ll do whatever you want, give him that click and a juicy steak, or zucchini bread, or a cheeseburger, or-

Price might be harder to click train considering he’s stubborn and what he likes aren’t exactly easy to give out like what Soap likes and definitely doesn’t care for the sound like Ghost. He generally doesn’t care, at all. The clicker doesn’t mean anything to him, really. He’d just stare blankly at the clicker, very unimpressed.

Gaz is near impossible to click train, mostly because his hearing is… a little hard. He doesn’t associate the sound with reward at all and just continues on. Thankfully he has good manners so it isn’t really needed.

Farah, like Gaz, is very well behaved. She has manners and knows when she can let loose or not. Farah is also like Price, she doesn’t care about the clicker.

Nik is not being trained. He’s a menace. He’ll trick you into giving him a reward and then continuing with being an asshole. If Price can’t control him then no one is. Good luck with that.