#the learnerer is agender

[elzore-da-great]

Something I wrote from The Learnerer's perspective. Liam is @melodythebunny 's oc.

Keen didn't take the news well. Valorie was back. Again. He knew what to expect at this point. Not too long after, she would leave. Again.

The thought infuriated him. He hated her. There were many reasons why but the biggest and most frustrating one was the way she treated Liam.

Why? Why did she keep coming back just to leave again? The fact that she kept coming back made him think maybe she did care about him. Yet, if she really did care about him she wouldn't keep leaving him like this.

Part of him wished one day she would leave and never return. While that would devastate Liam, it would be for the best.

Keen was abandoned as a child. He turned out fine, right? He didn't need parents. He didn't need anyone. That's what he always told himself. It took him a long time to realize that was wrong. He knew the years of solitude had affected him greatly.

But Keen's parents didn't choose to abandon him from a young age, they died. So why would she choose to abandon Liam?

Maybe if she left for good, Liam would finally get the hint and stop looking up to her.

Keen never got that either, why did Liam still look up to her? Why did he care about making her proud when she was never around?

It wasn't fair. What did she ever do for Liam except make him upset? Keen has been caring for him everyday for years and yet all he is to Liam is some weirdo that married his Dad.

To Keen, Liam is his son just as much as Cordette is his daughter. Yet, no matter what he does he'll always be the "step-parent" to Liam.

Keen doesn't want Liam to feel abandoned like he did. Liam deserves to feel loved, to feel included. So he has always tried to include Liam, show affection in every way he knows how.

The thing is, Keen has never been good with emotions. He's not good at deciphering how someone is feeling and he never knows how someone will react to what he's saying so it can be difficult for him to interact with Liam at times. It doesn't help that the only way Keen knows how to show affection is physically but Liam doesn't seem to like that.

But at least he tries! Valorie doesn't even try!

The fact is, Liam will never be enough for Valorie and Keen will never be enough for Liam.

[arlosworld91]

New Intro Post

Hello and welcome to my intro.

——Introduction——

My name is Arlo, but you can call me Lizzie, Alessia or Kit if you so wish and I was born in 2005.

My pronouns predominantly are: He/They + Ze/Zem/Zir, She/Her.

I’m an agender person, but have multiple different gender experiences. I’m acespec and arospec, and also Pan and Omni.

I talk a lot about men, but also I have queer attraction to women.

My terms can be found in my pronoun page, and i hope you find that of interest.

My preferred terms are masculine and neutral terms (most fem terms make me icky but would like to experiment.)

——DNI List——

I do have a DNI, which goes as followed, please don’t interact if:

You don’t respect good-faith identities.

Normal DNI of Homophobes, sexists, racists, etc.

Supportive of bad faith identities, and share, promote and identify as them, eg. zoophiles, MAPs, incest, etc.

Use the word ‘Woke’ out of its African American context. I don’t even condone the mocking of people who do and jokingly using it.

NSFW/NSFT blogs.

Pro any kind of abuse.

Anti recovery.

Anti men/women.

Mock, jock about and are racist towards people regardless of country. (Note that means countries that you don’t think can be discriminated against, e.g. UK, USA., etc.)

Speculate about celebrity identities. And also making them uncomfortable and breaking their boundaries. (Note that this includes YouTubers)

Pro Israel.

I do have a DNI for minors but it’s generally tread lightly, and for anyone younger than 15 please do not interact, if you are 15 interact rarely, if you’re 16 or above you’re welcome here.

——Please Interact If——

Enjoy the MCYT series: Hermitcraft, Empires, Life Series.

Are a big fan of writing, regardless of what the writing is.

Are a big fan of reading!

Are a fan of any of these artists- Louis Tomlinson, Taylor Swift, Little Mix, Niall Horan, Leigh-Anne Pinnock, Avicii, Ed Sheeran, Imagine Dragons, Lewis Capaldi.

Language Learner! (Not gonna state as it could change)

Playing the Sims, Minecraft, Football Manager.

Hunger Games fan and/or Stranger Things fan.

Learning about LGBT Terms.

Enjoy History and/or Etymology.

Dog and/or Cat lover.

——Boundaries——

Asks? Sure! Feel free!

DMs? Ask, unless we are mutuals!

Shipping with others? Hell no.

Flirting? Hell no.

Compliments? Sure!

——

That is the end of my intro list, I may have missed some things, but who cares, I hope to talk to you soon! I am kinda lenient and I can just block you.

[elzore-da-great]

If Keen found out

CW: blood and injuries

They're both fine.. mostly. That's ARG asking what happened by the way.

Would miss power be O.K. if liam didn't want to be like her? like a planet conquer?

[dynamic-swap-au-archive]

why does noodle have so many scars on her face and who do I need to scar for rest of There life's?

( I'm not angry I'm just FURIOUS )

the good news is that you get to be furious at my favorite thing to be angry about, the government !

lets get to know dynaswap noodle :>

in this instance, what was swapped between her and russel were their ages ! russel is our bright 8 year old boy when he first met the rest of the band, and noodle was only barely in her 20s.

what this means for her is that she'd lived her childhood, her teenage years, and the very cusp of her adulthood as a tool for the government. raised as a killing machine and forced to act on it.

the scars on her body are the memories of a hard life and a stolen childhood.

in the end, she escaped because her program was on the cusp of being caught. not wanting a potentially international incident, they'd wanted to cut their losses by simply killing the children they'd ruined and pretending it never happened.

she ran, and in her escape he'd found herself wandering the streets of england.

it'd been total chance that she'd happened upon a poster advertising for the role of guitarist in a little two-person band known as the Gorillaz. she'd never played a guitar before, but she saw this as a sign from the universe. -besides, she's a fast learner

while her origin was dark, she is anything but ! she absolutely delights in this chance at a second life, a Real life. wishing to live life to the fullest and find everything it has to offers. a sweetheart, a gifted artist, a scarred soul desperate for the chance she never thought she'd get to have.

as such, this band means everything to her, no matter how broken it may be. it's the only family she's ever known, the only true life she's ever gotten to live.

she watches over russel as a big sibling he's never had, taking care of him and nurturing his potential in every way she can

likewise, she sees much of herself in murdoc, a sort of father figure (even if he's less stable than her at times). her scars run deep, and with them come an anger and confusion that she often doesn't know what to do with. but she's determined to find her way, and find it with her family.

... even if she happens to butt heads with them, or more accurate have her head butt into.

most people butt heads with stu, but he's still a part of her family. he may be a slave to his emotions (and unable to filter a single thought in his head), at the core of everything he Means well. he doesn't Want to hurt anyone, he just doesn't know how to control himself anymore. something she can Also see herself in.

she wouldn't be here in her new life if it wasn't for him, and so she reaches out no matter how prickly he may be. sometimes she gets pricked for her efforts, and sometimes she makes her way through.

besides, both of her stinky boys adore russel, would never show him the teeth they gnaw on each other with. and that means something.

... of course, this all raises the question of how she's able to perform, if she's supposed to be on the run from the japanese government. and that would be her mask !

she actually has many of them ! she wears them while performing, for promotional material, and while out of the house ! though her main one is derivative of her first mask, the uniform she'd worn once upon a time.

of course, her Favorite mask is the one russel made for her

this makes her very mysterious in the eyes of the fans, and quite androgynous too ! unintentionally so, At First.

living the kind of life that she did before, her gender had never mattered to her, and it really doesn't now either. when she's asked what gender she is, she simply doesn't answer.

and in the end, she figures that she's nonbinary ! or perhaps agender. or perhaps the label doesn't matter, as long as she knows who she is. of course, she still uses she/her, and why shouldn't she? they're perfectly good pronouns to have.

and yes, she likes girls

if you'd like to see more of noodle, and more of this au as a whole, please feel free to check out my full au guide ! laying out everything the au has to offer in story order [Link]

and of course, I have a guide for canon gorillaz here [Link]

and feel free to talk to me about this au ^^ I always enjoy it @internetcartoon

[larkingame]

For those of us who are new to twine/find it daunting. What would be the easiest way to set side character genders? I know if statements will likely come into play I just find it so daunting. Any information would be helpful.

hi friend! apologies this took me several months to answer--askbox was on lockdown for a little bit, hope you're still curious.

i'm actually in the process of writing/scripting a couple new videos that I'm going to post next week (because a year later I don't really like how the old video looks) so--if it's easier, I'll cover it in video form for visual/audio learners there--but for now--this is what I'll say.

the best way to set genders for any character is to use variables, this is true across all different languages of twine, but i'm most familiar with sugarcube twine.

for example, in my game, larkin, i have two characters Ace and Hollis that the player can select the gender/pronouns of in the beginning of the game.

setting their genders is something as simple as creating links with <<set>> macros in them. you can do that a couple of ways. my favorite way is the bracket method, but I know there is like, annoying discourse in the coding community (because what other kind of coding discourse is there, if not annoying) over which method is better--so I'll show you both.

say I wanted to set Ace's gender at the beginning of the game. I'm going to first go into my StoryInit passage in twine--you won't have this when you first open your twine game, so you'll have to create it--by simply creating a new passage and labeling it 'StoryInit' exactly as written there, with the capital 'S' and the capital 'I' no spaces.

from there you're going to create a gender variable to keep track of your character's gender throughout the game. because ace's name starts with an 'a' i'm going to simply call my variable '$agender' it is important that a '$' or a dollar sign proceeds the title of your variable--in order for the game to keep track of the variables value throughout the game.

so basically, in StoryInit I'm going to create a set statement--this is done by typing out the following:

<<set $agender to "male">>

right now, i've set ace's gender to male. this doesn't really mean anything--I'm just using male as a default for right now--you can make it anything you want really, female, non-binary, or even just 'null' for the moment. but know that whatever you set their gender to now, if you type out $agender for it to print in the text of your game, it's going to say "male" or whatever else you've set their gender to.

this isn't really a necessary step but I've found that giving my variables some sort of value before I really set them has always helped me keep organized, and allow the game to run a little smoother.

now onto setting their genders.

if I want to give the player an option to select their gender choosing from the options male/female/non-binary, I'm going to set up my links either like this:

[[set ace's gender to male | 2.0][$agender to "male"]] [[set ace's gender to female | 2.0][$agender to "female"]] [[set ace's gender to non-binary | 2.0][$agender to "non-binary"]]

or like this:

<<link "set ace's gender to male" "2.0">><<set $agender to "male">><</link>> <<link "set ace's gender to female" "2.0">><<set $agender to "female">><</link>> <<link "set ace's gender to non-binary" "2.0">><<set $agender to "non-binary">><</link>>

both of these essentially accomplish the same thing: they create three links, all that lead to a passage entitled '2.0' and depending on the link selected, they set the gender of Ace to either male, female or non-binary.

To go a little deeper into explanation:

[[set ace's gender to male | 2.0][$agender to "male"]] &lt;<;link "set ace's gender to male" "2.0">><<set $agender to "male">><</link>

the pink text is what the player will see in the text of the game, the blue text is the destination to which the passage is taking you, and the yellow text is the value that's being set. the purple, for context is just coding language that's necessary for the links in that format to function.

with that, you could have a sentence structured like this in the passage labeled '2.0' to demonstrate which gender you've selected for ace's character.

'Ace identifies as $agender'

$agender in this case will print with whatever you've selected for their gender.

as for pronouns, that's a simple as setting multiple variables in one link. in this case, I do find the <<link>> method much easier, as it's a lot less complicated to set multiple variables with this one--((to be strictly honest with you, i haven't found a good way to do that with the bracket method))

say you want a male identifiying ace to go by he/him pronouns and a non-binary Ace to go by they/them--all you have to do is make links that look like this:

<<link "set ace gender to male" "2.0">><<set $agender to "male">><<set $a_he to "he">><<set $a_him to "him">><</link>> <<link "set ace gender to non-binary" "2.0">><<set $agender to "non-binary">><<set $a_he to "they">><<set $a_him to "them">><</link>>

in this example I've got variables for each time I'd use the subject and possessive adjective pronouns for ace--again, he/him in the variable name are just because it's the simplest convention for me to remember--you can name your variables whatever you like. you can also add more variables for the different types of pronouns (ex. he/him/himself/his)

you can do a lot more with this, of course, setting multiple pronouns for the characters, for example would be something as simple as creating a variable like $secondarya_he so that your character could sometimes go by "he" and sometimes by "they" -- it's really up to what you want to do with your characters. also i should note, you could also create like separate links for pronouns and gender ((as gender doesn't automatically define your pronouns in the Real World))

as for how they present in the game, it's as simple as typing out the variable and including it in your text.

for example if I have this in my text, and Ace's gender is set to nonbinary it'd look like this on my end:

Ace was over there, $a_he sat at $a_his desk.

would come out looking like this in game:

Ace was over there, they sat at their desk.

now of course, this can sometimes be tricky with grammar, because there's going to be different cases in english where you'd use one word to proceed or follow he or she but a different word to proceed/follow they--this is a simple fix too--just use if statements.

if I wanted to say 'he was doing something' for the male version of ace, but I wanted to say, 'they were doing something' for the non-binary version--I'd simply set it up like this:

$a_he <<if $a_he is "he" or $a_he is "she">>was<<elseif $a_he is "they">>were<</if>> doing something.

and my text would be fixed according to the different pronouns!

all that said, I hope this helped--and if you or anyone else has any coding questions feel free to send them here--plus look out for the video component of this lesson coming next week.

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Okay here's some of my personal RE HCs because no one is stopping me.

These are in no way like the be-all-end-all for hcs (everyone has their own ofc and i have so many overlapping concepts, so feel free to share!!) but I wanted to post these anyways

This is really long, so...

Enjoy under the cut!

Wesker

───✦ He/They ───✦ Pansexual, demiromantic ───✦ Agender (gender is meaningless for him personally) ───✦ Built like a god damn refrigerator. Just a fucking rectangle of a man. ───✦ Ik this is canon but I love it, so I'm adding it anyways- he originally covered his eyes with his glasses to hide the emotions he deemed his greatest weakness and later did it to hide irritation and his eyes ───✦ I think part of the reason he did it was because Chris came to him looking like a kicked puppy one day after Wesker scolded him and Wesker got the softest look on his face for Chris, so he always wore glasses from then on ───✦ He's super proud of Chris and wishes, despite everything, that they could be like old friends again. He misses how carefree and nonchalant Chris used to be before all the outbreaks hardened him into more of a machine than a man ───✦ Actually really hates Umbrella, but tolerated them and used their resources for his own experimentation and ideals ───✦ I know that in canon, he's about 6' 3" or 190 cm, but I think he towers over everyone at somewhere around 6' 5-6' 9". He isn't built like a boulder like Chris is (pun intended) but he IS taller and I like making height differences more dramatic ───✦ He really loves rain and fog. ───✦ His AW Model Samurai Edge has his initials carved right under the short barrel of the gun, right where you attach a silencer- and he has Chris' initials carved right in front of the trigger. He thinks of it as a way for Chris to 'keep him doing things in the right direction'

Chris

───✦ He/Him ───✦ Bisexual ───✦ AKFHSKFNEJ THIS MAN IS MASSIVE. He is super huge. Fuck canon he's 6' 5" because LOOK AT HIM IN RE8, PLEASE- ───✦ Asian-american (his facial features in vendetta? pfft, please, this man is asian. I think Korean personally.) The name Redfield is of Scottish origin, but I think his american family fled from scotland to escape the British regime similarly to what my family did ───✦ Canonically can't read during a flashback, which is probably referring to him being unable to read sheet music specifically, since he's trying to read the sheet music at the grand piano- but this just makes me think he's a slow reader and has dyslexia ───✦ I think he's super flirty but also is oblivious ───✦ Adhd all the way ───✦ Super messy handwriting because his mind moves faster than his hands, so it's just the messiest half-cursive scrawl ───✦ Looks like a grinning felon on his license and has since he got his learner's at like 15. He just keeps looking more like "yeah I committed that crime and I'll do it again" every time he goes in for a renewal ───✦ Really loves cars and armoured vehicles in the same way Leon loves motorcycles ───✦ Hates Leon's drinking habit while Leon hates Chris' smoking habit ───✦ They come together eventually to help the other stop their addictions and it mostly involves lots of snuggles and pancakes ───✦ Really loves that Ethan is Canadian because Ethan can and will special order authentic maple syrup solely so Chris is happy and he loves authentic syrup so much he can damn near drink it straight from the bottle

Krauser

───✦ He/They or He/Him ───✦ Bisexual ───✦ German-american (as a German-american myself, it makes sense based on his name and his need to do busy work (his off-days merc work) just to feel like he's doing something worthwhile. In German culture, being able-bodied and able to work is a super big societal standpoint that is thankfully changing some) ───✦ He's actually an incredibly anxious individual. He finds the cut-and-dry rules, schedules, and regulations of the army and the relative-freedoms of his mercenary work are good for him regulating himself ───✦ He really likes Leon. Thinks he's a good kid (even though they're so close in age) and wishes him well in life. ───✦ Loves snakes. So much. It's on his blade and he hated killing that snake to protect Leon during the Darkside Chronicles cutscene, but Leon mattered more ───✦ Part of the reason he's such an ass and so cold is because he doesn't like many people and has difficulty interacting outside of yelling at them to train them or smart-mouthing people who deem themselves his 'superior' ───✦ Actually really doesn't like the government for a lot of reasons ───✦ Had a second blade custom-made for Leon so they could match ───✦ Really likes cuddles and is a human heater

Merchant

───✦ He/They/It (sometimes refers to himself as 'we', sort of in the local-english dialect kinda of way, as in a singular 'we' but I also have a theory regarding the blue/purple flamed lamp you always see with him, but that's a whole can of worms) ───✦ Pansexual, panromantic ───✦ Nonbinary. Can be amab or trans afab, but prefers being deemed more masculine ───✦ British-english; just likes to travel the world ───✦ Older than he lets on and joins the Duke for dinner a few times a year. They bond over shared experiences and intriguing customers ───✦ Long dark brown/straight hair, tied into a ponytail down the base of his head. ───✦ I think he's either really scrawny or he's fluffier and stockier under his coat than he appears ───✦ He has facial scars, mostly consisting of a few slashes from knives or similar and a scar that curls across the left side of his face ───✦ This particular scar ruined part of his lips and shows some of his teeth even when his mouth is shut, which is one of many reasons he wears his mask. Can't go around scaring his customers, can he? Bad for business! ───✦ His eyes ARE blue, but in fact glow under low-light conditions and glow when he's under intense emotions (ex. stress, anger, extreme happiness, etc) ───✦ They flash this sort of red-orange similar to Wesker's eyes when he's irritated too or when he gets impatient, but it's easy to miss ───✦ He also has a weirdly long split tongue and the further up it you go, you start to see these soft little barb-like features. They curl and stretch whenever your fingers brush over a particularly flavour-sensitive spot or press too hard ───✦ Really good at cooking ───✦ Has a special interest in weaponry of all kinds and enjoys working with his hands ───✦ Incredibly fond of Leon and makes sure he's well taken care of whenever he gets the chance ───✦ Autistic

Ethan

───✦ He/They ───✦ Cisn't (amab or afab, but I lean toward amab) ───✦ Canadian/american ───✦ The shadow thing on his face is actually caused by his 'death' in Louisiana. He's not sure why it happens and can kinda turn it off, but it follows his face regardless of light conditions. In darker/fully dark environments, all you have a chance of seeing is the glint or even sometimes glow of his eyes. You only see the ring of colour of his eyes during these moments. ───✦can and will scare people with what remains of the megamycete- ie making himself look a little too cryptid-like ───✦ Similarly to the Lords (primarily Salvatore Moreau) he has these tentacle-like appendages that can sprout from his back that he uses to freak people out. The Lords still aren't so used to it ───✦ Has adhd and autism ───✦ IT tech genius, computers are his special interest ───✦ He is a sarcastic ass when he wants to be and gets even more feral and angry now thanks to the megamycete ───✦ He is super tired and has insomnia issues half-thanks to Louisiana and the Village and half-thanks to his natural insomnia problems (mood my guy) ───✦ Like smart-assing Heisenberg frequently, but also enjoys having long philosophical or tech-related convos with him ───✦ Surprisingly close to Chris and later Leon ───✦ Finds the Merchant hilarious

Leon

───✦ He/him or he/they. I sometimes write him a cis amab sometimes trans. Often trans. Nonbinary?? Idk, but I like him being a gnc type guy. ───✦ Bi or pan, but demiromantic and demisexual too ───✦ Struggles with his own touch-starvation and even now, loud noises scare him a lot when he's not on the job. He's always worried about another unprepared breakout like the events of RE2 ───✦ Romanian/american (a thought I've had since RE4 2005 back when I played the game in like,,, 2014. I find it funny now that his remake model is Romanian from what I understand lol) ───✦ Still has remnants of Las Plagas running through him, but his blood kinda neutralized it to make a 'perfect monster'-type effect. ───✦ As a result of this, he can essentially 'shift' his body in weird ways and create the equivalent of the arms on the Los Iluminados insignia (yanno, with the four arms kinda like a mantis or facehugger has? yeah, that) ───✦ He doesn't like that it happens but he finds the older he gets, the more used to it he becomes and the more he uses them in sticky situations ───✦ Adhd and autism; really oblivious to social cues which is part of why he jumps into everything headfirst and why he doesn't flirt well. But he tries ───✦ Very soft and can sleep through a nuclear explosion

[syrrexcyre]

COMPILATION OF MY SONA ARTS AND MY OCS ! :3

SATU ! IT | HE | THEY

A little old-ish artwork tho lol

◈ ACCI / ACCISMUS ! ◇

THEY / IT !

FINNISH PERSON ! Cross's bestie :3

Autistic ! ✨

Straightforward , bold , learner typa person , low-empathy , traumatized (ngl..../lh) , 170 cm(5'6) , loves botany and journaling bc of Cross

AGENDER AROACE

♰ CROSS ! ♰

IT / THEY !

SWEDISH ! Acci's bestie :3

Shy , socially awkward , mute , gestures or writes on paper/uses electronic devices for communication further , 198 cm(6'5), goth , botany lover , likes calligraphy and journaling , ADHD ✨

MOTH-ZU / MOTZU !

HE / THEY / IT !

Australian guy ! 166 cm(5'4) , autistic , gay , BPD !

Chaotic , has big hands , god knows why(i'm atheist /lh) , may've been familiar with Danko

DANKO MISKINIS !

Croat-Lithuanian !

He | They | Ze

Agender & Aro & Omni , AuDHD & AvPD ! However I dont have an official art ref for this guy 💔

180 cm(5'10) , a police officer(based off Norwegian police) , chaotic , sarcastic (which gets himself and others in troubles bc someone may not get zir sarcasm 😭) hard to befriend due to his avoidant tendencies , in general prefers to stay either alone either around their trusted people , eco-safety volunteer(also related to the lore of his job)

[nebula-award]

rottmnt headcannon time

Nov 5, 2023: This is from Jan 11, 2021 btw!! Old old old headcanons but I still like them

Raph 

(Head’s up- almost everything I headcannon on the big guy is me projecting)

-Genderfluid/Genderqueer (thanks sascha) Panromantic Demiromantic Asexual

-He’s the least educated on LBGTQIA+ terms (that honor goes to Leo)

-This kinda caused him to go through a sexuality crisis and for a while he thought he was aroace like Donnie until Leo helped him out with understanding the aro spectrum

-He has social anxiety. It’s a moderate case- little on the extreme side. (Let me project)

-He has separation anxiety (extreme case)

(-It’s kind of implied in S1:21A, but) I imagine Raph lost Splinter and his brothers in NY when he was little, and since then he’s had nightmares and fears of losing his family or waking up one day and they aren’t there. (Time to write some angst :D)

-Very introverted (unless he’s in a fight, then he pretty talkative because he’s more confident)

-Dyslexic (Donnie’s the one that helps him if he can’t understand a word)

-He tries really hard to finish the book he’s reading but either gets too bored, forgets about it, or reading it gets too hard (if it’s the third option he’ll try to read it again bc he doesn’t like quitting)

-ADHD (inattentive type)

-Chews on his mask tails (I love this headcanon so much and I do the same thing with my hair)

-Overprotective (like if you lay a hand on his family, you’re probably going to die by his hands)

-Loves food, like anything with tons of flavor.

-Not a fan of clothing. Even with clothes measured to fit him, he won’t wear them. He’ll do it if it’s needed for a mission or for something of importance.

-He’s a decent cook. Not as good as Mikey, but the family enjoys his meals.

-The only thing he can’t make is popcorn (He’ll always accidently burn at least one bag)

-Developed a minor dissociative disorder and his anxiety became more extreme when Leo became leader

-Tried to learn German (He’s not the best, but the words are easier for him to understand)

Donnie

-Nonbinary Aromantic Asexual

-Doesn’t mind he/him but prefers if people used they/them

-Ambivert (More of a introvert)

-Hates physical contact

-But LOVES compression. Every blanket he owns is weighted, his battle shell is a pressure stim, loves hoodies because of how heavy they are (Projecting, projecting)

-He has depression 

-Perfectionist

-Slight OCD

-When Donnie cooks, he’ll spend hours in the kitchen and no one is allow in. (It doesn’t taste good after either) (He’s better with machines)

-Knows a good of ASL (American sign-language) and JSL (Japanese sign-language) He studied ASL more than JSL because they live in NY.

-Learned some German when he helps Raph study the language, and French when he was helping Mikey, Leo taught him some Spanish

Leo

-Bisexual Gray-Aromantic Demiboy (Prefers neopronouns)

-He has imposter syndrome. He doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough for the team and copes by trying to seem overconfident. (This also plays a factor in his becoming leader as he feels like he doesn’t deserve the role)

-He has a dissociative disorder

-Extremely extroverted

-ADHD (hyperactive)

-Red/Green colorblind (hence why blue is his favorite color) 

-He’ll usually go into flight mode and freeze if he’s in really bad danger (the brothers have tried to snap him out of it) then he’ll joke it off

-Jokes are his comfort (Kind of cannon)

-NEVER LET THIS MAN INTO A KITCHEN. The last time he cooked, the lair almost burned down.

-Speaks nearly perfect Spanish. He picked up a few words when with Señor Hueso leading to him asking the Hueso to teach him Spanish. (He was a surprisingly fast learner.) He has a harder time reading Spanish.

-Loves singing songs in Spanish

Mikey

-Gay, (still haven’t decided a gender but I’m thinking agender, trans, or boyflux)

-Bites/chews his nails when his nervous, excited, or overstimulated

-Best chef award goes to him

-He’s the one that’s always trying something new

-Not a fan of learning languages. (It’s just not something he enjoys doing) With that said, he can read a fair amount of French, yet he can’t speak it as well.

April

-Omniromantic Asexual

-She’s a choir and theatre kid

-Introduced Leo and Donnie to the theatre world 

Mad Dogs

- They all are nearly fluent in Japanese and English. This is mainly because Splinter wanted them to learn a few languages and even encourages them to learn more.

- the turtles base their ages off April’s age (16) and who Splinter claimed the oldest and youngest to be. 

-They throw a Karaoke competition in the lair sometimes. (Leo is the reigning champion as always) 

-Leo and April bond over singing and sing duets all the time (No one in the base complains) 

-Leo and Donnie like to sing “Confrontation” from Jekyll & Hyde ALL. THE. TIME. 

-Donnie and Leo aren’t allowed in the kitchen. 

-Leo and Raph learn to co-lead

-Whenever Raph is having a (social) problem he’ll either go to Leo or April for help

-Splinter used to call them by the color of their marks Donnie was purple, Mikey was orange, Leo was red, Raph was green. (And I’m going to write a fic later I swear) (NOV 11, 2023: I DID WRITE THAT FIC)

[lemonadedbee]

Katie

Katie is a prototype nanny bot before Spectrum Labs decided to name nanny bots for public. Now she works there as a guide for schools that come to visit, a helper to employees, she as well makes sure to keep the place clean and of course a nanny for any of the employees with children. Katie is design to be cutesy, kind, responsible with a childish curiousity which makes people around her to treat her almost no respect and as a child. Though she isn't a child and is a very capable. She doesn't like to be treated like that, she wants to be someone who is seen as strong and capable even if she likes cute things and is small.

agender - she/her

kind and caring

fascinated by new things and eager to learn

quite smart and a quick learner

responsible and follows the rules (unless noone is looking)

loves colourful designs and things, adorable animals, drawings that kids that she met gifted her

loves to share random facts

her body language is quite calm and grounded, sometimes too much she becomes invisible

has positive but realistic outlook on things

get frustrated by people that don't treat her like a person or try to protect her "innocence"

at first shy but grows to be able to stand up for herself

She will decided to help Ono and joins him.

her toyhouse page

[yutopia-eleftheria]

Percy Hurst X Hadrian Diesel Next Generation

Note that Percy was born in Greece and Hadrian was born in Italy. Now they both grow and live in Japan, gaining the Japanese nationality.

Érin Hurst :

Full name : Érin Tina Velvet Hurst

Nickname : Éri

Gender : Female

Birthday : May 30th

Zodiac Sign : Gemini

Height : 5′5″ (165 cm)

Weight : 132 lbs (60 kg)

Nationality : Greek / Italian / Japanese

Parents : Percy Hurst and Hadrian Diesel

Siblings : Starshine Diesel {twin brother}

                          Piper Diesel {younger sister}

Personality : Quick Learner, Curious and Patient

Position : Midfielder

Teams : Zeus (20)

Element : Air

Érin is the oldest daughter of Percy Hurst and Hadrian Diesel. She has a few minutes older twin brother named Starshine and a “baby” sister named Piper (she likes to call her that way). She feels pretty confident when it comes to her football skills since she learns new tricks and hissatsus fairly quickly.

Starshine Diesel :

Full name : Starshine Sunny Hurst Diesel

Nickname : Star, Shine

Gender : Born Male, Agender

Birthday : May 30th

Zodiac Sign : Gemini

Height : 5′6″ (167 cm)

Weight : 132 lbs (60 kg)

Nationality : Greek / Italian / Japanese

Parents : Percy Hurst and Hadrian Diesel

Siblings : Érin Hurst {twin sister}

                          Piper Diesel {younger sister}

Personality : Quiet, Smart and Calculating

Position : Defender

Teams : Zeus (4)

Element : Air

Starshine is the only son of Percy Hurst and Hadrian Diesel, and twin brother of Érin. He makes a wonderful pair with his twin sister, to a point when it is said that they are unstoppable when they play together. He seems a bit cold and not very friendly, but when you get to know him a bit better, he appears to be pretty soft deep inside.

Piper Diesel :

Full name : Piper Dahlila Diesel

Nickname : Pip

Gender : Born Female, Demigirl

Birthday : July 30th

Zodiac Sign : Leo

Height : 5′2″ (157 cm)

Weight : 129 lbs (55 kg)

Nationality : Greek / Italian / Japanese

Parents : Percy Hurst and Hadrian Diesel

Siblings : Érin Hurst {older sister}

                          Starshine Diesel {older brother}

Personality : Curious, Adventurous and Playful

Position : Forward

Teams : Zeus (13)

Element : Fire

Piper is the second daughter and last child of Percy Hurst and Hadrian Diesel. She is her twin siblings “Pride and Joy” and they love her so deeply. She is said to be a shining star as her talent is impressive. Her technique is impeccable and her speed is outstanding.

[elzore-da-great]

More like the agenderer

[pigeonkite]

hello!

I'm Kite (they/she/he/ae), 20-year-old USAmerican.

Identity stuff: bisexual, agender, femme. leftist, anti-Zionist Jewish atheist. neurodivergent.

Interest areas: nerd about music/sound, linguistics/language learning (Spanish + Swedish; hit me up on my sideblog @lilladuvan if you are a fellow Swedish learner or speaker) and religion/spirituality

Media: fan of Pokémon, Simon Snow, Eragon, RWRB, Percy Jackson, Kirby, Ninjago, Young Royals, and many other things. I read a lot of memoirs and history and a lot of fantasy and romance.

Music: Alessia Cara, Fall Out Boy, Waterparks, Halsey, Taylor Swift, James Bay, Victor Leksell, I Prevail, many more. a lot of pop punk, pop, alternative rock. getting a little into metal lately!

just tumblin around I guess

[clockbreadcroi]

an EXTREMELY long list of timekeeper headcanons. feast your eyeballs, this is long.

- TK has extremely puffy hair and is also plus sized

- Any Pronouns, Lesbian Agender

- Her chronokinetic abilities make her able to make little time holograms with her hands

- TK speaks French occasionally

- TK's reflection is Croissant occasionally. It won't happen all the time but there is a chance if you see her near a reflective surface the reflection will be Croissant

- She would occasionally yell "IM BORED" like a young child

- She has collections of music boxes, keys, winding keys and cogs

- She can stuff items into her hair because of how abnormally large it is. Others even think there's a hidden time rift in it

- Timekeeper would unironically say "Que sera, sera" (Sort of Spanish for "Whatever will be, will be", it's an idiom)

- Timekeeper would bite her ice cream

- Her legs are frail from floating all the time. They haven't been used to walking for so many years, she may as well turn into timedust if she ever stepped afoot on the floor

- Despite being the youngest and less mature out of all of the Legendaries, Timekeeper is deemed the strongest out of all of them

- TK is skilled with applying makeup

- Because of her otherworldly knowledge, she is a fast learner

- She has an entire wardrobe of dresses and gowns. She's a big fashion nut

- Adding to the headcanon above, Chocolate Bonbon could be rich because of her

- She can beat the Chess Choco Twins at their game, being one of the only ones who could possibly even beat them without cheating

- Temporal Essence-- something I will write about later, is a part of her entire being

- Her mechanical eye has stored up temporal essence which is why it glows when she's angered

- Timekeeper also bleeds Ichor, the fluid that flows in the veins of gods

- No care for pronouns. In the way that she would LOVE it if someone called her a he for once

[brigitoshaughnessy]

All right, this is going to be way too long, but I’ll try not to get too nerdy with it. Cultural assimilation is a psychologically difficult process, particularly for adults whose cognitive development is already complete.

For a simple run down, you can reference this link, but the thing that is probably most important in this particular example of cultural assimilation is that Jack experienced FORCED assimilation rather than voluntary. Possible trigger in what I’m about to say below this link.

The concept of violation of self in an internal level (changes to a sense of identity and self) carries all of the horrid emotions and trauma with it that you would see from a person who has experienced physical violation by another person.

And what do we know about Jack? His sense of self, independence, personal autonomy are all on overdrive. It’s why he finds the idea of symbiotes to be so offensive. So imagine the additional trauma of not having that choice.

All that to say, the man was a wreck at this point, but it was all internalized. Ready for the next “excuse me, what?” Stockholm Syndrome. Think Beauty and the beast, but he’s Belle. Captured essentially, but bonded to his captor, and largely dependent on her.

Next. This is where things are going to maybe sound a little less familiar. Reverse culture shock. When a person fully assimilates to a new culture which I believe he did, it redefines the person’s identity. He changed as a person, and once that happens, it becomes very difficult to go back.

To me, it’s not about not caring about his team, and it certainly isn’t about Carter. I think Daniel, being the anthropological/sociological mind that he is understood what was happening when he said something like “I don’t think he was ever planning to come home.”

In some ways, reverse culture shock is worse than culture shock because our minds have already changed to accept new ways of living, and the reverse culture shock feels like a waste. It feels like a narrowing of the mind after it’s been broadened.

In addition, the people you once knew no longer know you because you know that you’ve changed.

I did say this was going to be long, right? The point is, I think reducing this episode to an event in which he hurt Carter’s feelings (true) is a big miss. It’s why I didn’t deal specifically with it when I wrote about it, because this episode is way more about his trauma and identity than it is about their relationship.

It feels very much like Abyss to me, if I’m honest.

In addition, as it relates to their relationship, I don’t think she really understood her own feelings until this moment. Thereby, it was an important plot point for the relationship even if it wasn’t pleasant. Like Pete.

All of this analysis assumes that you’re also considering the grief that is experienced during cultural assimilation at the loss of your home which is sort of the kick starter to assimilation. Dude was wreckt. Straight up wreckt. The last thing he was thinking about was someone else’s feelings. He was hanging by a thread.

Thanks for listening to my ramble. Have a great day.

Edit to add: yes! Laira throwing away his stuff was a blatant display of how FORCED his assimilation was. I imagine in her own way she was trying to help him heal, but in reality, she was taking away his choice, knowing that he was dependent on her. The more I think about her, the less I like her, but hey… hurt people hurt people.

Apparently I hate myself, because I decided to watch A Hundred Days tonight because … well, honestly because it came on after Urgo.

And I was thinking maybe we underestimate how selfless Laira was to tell Jack that she heard a voice on the radio. She could have kept it to herself and kept him. She appears to love him. But she let him go.

But then I remembered… most of the residents of her village were stranded on Earth. And yet, she let him sit there and talk about curling for who knows how long? She really had to think about choosing between a guy or everyone in her village who went through the Stargate because she told them to? What a crazy B. 😂

[featherlinneasart]

Greet Ferren the last of the 11 six legged ocs (for now) I am not entirely happy with their design, but I also couldn't think of a better pattern that wasn't overwhelming and I wanted to avoid them looking to similar to others color wise. I mean still similar to Avery, that is quite on purpose. Ferren is more based on a more Avian design so they do have a feather coat rather than normal fur, they however cannot fly. They are also half a leg short. The horns on the head, are supposed to have a small resembles to antlers. So to be done with it, I decided the colors are fine (was done with that back at the 26th of July) and just did the eye colors and sketches next to them. Really was only a tiny bit that needed to be completely, otherwise they had been ready for over a month lol. Therefore Ferrens design and coloring etc. are still subjects to change if I feel like it. But this will do for now. All 11 (all are agender, so they/them): 1. Avery - Art 2. Zibirion -Writing 3. Zellares - Music 4. Cookie - Sewing 5. Orient - programming/development 6. Neon - Gaming 7. Crysalien - Commentator 8. Doe - Baking/Cooking 9. Jim - Health/Exercise 10. Atlas - Wood Work 11. Ferren - Learner

[doorsclosingslowly]

Sweating off the Cheat Notes on My Thighs

The date’s a dream come true, but apparently Kaz wants to talk before sex, for the purposes of respecting Jesper’s feelings of all things. Joke’s on him. Jesper’s an easy lay, but not even they can explain just who they are.

10k | Jesper/Kaz with background poly Crows | modern AU with agender Jesper | content note: explicit sex

“Want to take this upstairs?” Jesper flutters their eyelashes.

Kaz quirks his lip, in a way that’s never really been directed at Jesper before, almost shy, certainly not mocking, even though honestly, Jesper just invited him to get out of the kitchen they both use every day, up to a bedroom Jesper only gets to sleep in because Kaz has a secret charitable streak a mile wide, this being Kaz’ house and all—some pay-out from a court settlement well-invested and ballooned, and Jesper never quite worked up the nerve to ask what it was for except when they got drunk, then they must have asked him—asked eleven times total, now, but the second time Kaz punched them and threatened to toss them out into the street, and the tenth time he looked about to cry and then ignored Jesper for a month, and well, Jesper is a slow learner, it used to drive like half their teachers crazy (the others claimed they were just insufficiently challenged by the material, and what do you know, Jesper skipped two grades and got into uni early and then promptly failed out, so turns out all of them were sort of right) but even they were bound to get the hint one day. Don’t ask about the first lawsuit. Got it, boss.

The one that destroyed Kaz’ leg forever is fair game—obviously the lawsuit didn’t destroy his leg, he fell off a balcony. That he wasn’t supposed to be on. Because he was burgling at the time. He’s still bragging about how he twisted that one in court to get a ten k euro pay-out. It’s adorable, honestly.

Right. Jesper just invited Kaz into the bedroom he owns anyway.

Kaz must be really turned on, if he’s not making a single wry comment right now. Every time Jesper inflicts some more impact or water damage to his precious parquet flooring, he scathes about them not getting the deposit back, and when Inej’s home, it’s double the landlord jokes. Triple, because Jesper can’t help teasing her for fucking an actual class enemy, does her affinity group know? But really Kaz just wishes he was hard-headed and cold-hearted enough to extract rent from the gang of wayward barely and incompetently adults he’s collected—and since they’re all somehow involved with each other now, it’s too late anyway. If you’re charging your Family, capital f for mafia jokes, it’s probably something else. Prostitution? Reverse-prostitution, getting to live in his house and also fuck him? Something morally incomprehensible, anyway.

Inej’s out with Wylan right now. Holidays. Five days, they said, but Jesper hopes they’ll stay longer, because it’s the first one she’s had in whenever the fuck, it’s not like her parents had much cash to blow back when before she was taken, and the first vacation in Wy’s entire sad life that he actually gets to enjoy. Petting alpacas and goats somewhere on the coast. Jesper would have expected Kaz to go with them. He’s bankrolling the trip off of the interest from the restitution payment from his first life-shatteringly traumatic experience, after all.

It makes sense now, that he hasn’t gone. He wanted Jesper alone to make his move.

It’s horrendously sweet, honestly, because it’s unnecessary as all fuck. Jesper’s easy. They’ve got no shame, and would have fucked Kaz in the downstairs hang-out room surrounded by all their friends and even Inej’s rotating cast of crusty direct action accomplices, if simple fucking was something Kaz did. Well, maybe he does now. It’s been nearly a year, since that big talk when he and Inej got together. He’s probably had some practice by now. Jesper’s watched the way these two move around each other change and grow and blossom.

The delivery from an Eritrean restaurant Jesper hasn’t been to since—well, since the last time Da visited, before they got kicked out of uni that was, Christ—but they must have mentioned it once and Kaz remembers everything—and Kaz actually dressed down to a shirt and vest instead of a full suit, and the bottle of wine, which would have impressed them more probably if they knew even the faintest bit about what makes wines good or expensive or both, but anyway, the wine was barely enough to get tipsy, which isn’t the point. The point is, Kaz put that food on the kitchen table and didn’t even bitch at Jesper when they got home two hours late and the food was cold. Not that it was a big deal. Microwaves were invented for a reason. And maybe, if Kaz hadn’t been his usual secretive dick self, Jesper would have known they should hurry. They wouldn’t have gambled away another hundred euro then, either, so Kaz is doubly an asshole.

One day, Jesper’s going to work up the nerve to invite Da to Amsterdam again. Soon. They just have to figure out a good story to hide that they’re a failure.

Kaz didn’t need to do any of this. Even the spiders on the ceiling would have bet their last juicy flies that Jesper was going to say yes, to anything he asked.

When they got the wine out of their windpipe, anyway. It was kind of a shock that he did ask. Jesper’s been flirting unsuccessfully for literal years.

Paramours. That’s what Kaz wants to be. Not changing anything—best friends forever, Jesper’s added mentally to avoid an exasperated flick in the forehead—but paramours now too. It’s kind of—its deeply fucking precious, and Jesper doesn’t know what would be cuter, that the gang’s corrupted him so badly he’s using poly jargon as everyday vocab now or that he deliberately picked a word that’s not boy-, or, fuck, girlfriend, just for Jesper, just because he’s actually listened all those times they lay on the floor in his room, complaining. (“I always wanted to be in the polycule Family proper with Wy and Inej. Nina and Matthias and Kuwei aren’t bad, either,” Jesper replied, grinning so wide their cheeks hurt. Kaz hadn’t kissed them. He mopped up a bit of beef zigni with a shred of injera and held it up to their mouth, though, which was…)

“Ordinarily when one invites their partner into their bed, the issuer of the invitation would begin walking towards the stairs as well,” Kaz rasps. “Or did you just want to brag and let me try out your new mattress?”

“You know me. Always fashionably late. Including to sex with the man of my dreams.”

Kaz’ ears go pink. He’s fucking adorable.

“I can tell you more about my dreams, if you want. The most recent one—do you know what shibari is?”

“Bed, Jes.” Kaz groans. “If Inej comes back and I’ve destroyed my leg even more having sex on the floor, we’re both dead.”

“Point.”

Very, very point. Hurting Kaz—hurting him more than he’s already been hurt, all seven-hundred-and-ten-thousand euros worth of pain and then some more that he’s never even been compensated for, which must hurt the greedy bastard so much worse, is the last thing Jesper wants.

They don’t kiss in the staircase. If this was any of Jesper’s past hook-ups—but Kaz is finally actually using the stair lift the whole Family’s two-year-long bullying campaign made him install for bad weeks—it’s not a bad limp week now but maybe Kaz is going easy on his leg so it’ll cramp less during sex—anyway, Kaz is slowly being ascended upwards and it would be a bit awkward, bending down to him and hopping sideways along the stair lift and Jesper would probably fall and break their neck just when they’re on the threshold of paradise, and also, Kaz doesn’t like casual touch too much still, so Jesper’s only ever planning to touch him if he initiates. See: resolution not to hurt Kaz, ever. Unless it’s funny, and he’s only pretending to suffer.

It’s a bad week in other ways, anyway: every time Jesper’s woken up at night since two days ago, since Inej and Wy left, they’ve hoped for the pacing next door, the whumps of fists hitting wood, because the alternative was waiting for a few minutes for the inhuman screams, the sobbing. And no way to help except for getting up hatefully early and pretending everything was fine. It’s not bad enough yet to call Inej and tear her out of her queerplatonic honeymoon, but—no, it won’t get that bad. Jesper’s going to figure something out. Maybe mind-blowing sex will help, though knowing Kaz—

When it’s not a bad week, Kaz is almost completely fine now with intense, personal touch. Jesper’s seen him holding hands with Inej on the sofa, seething with joy and pride at his two besties’ happiness, their ridiculous progress in just a short year, and only a little bitterly envious, honest. The two of them are so happy, and Jesper—well, they probably would have told Kaz right at the start that they don’t care about touch, they weren’t going to trigger his seven hundred k trauma just to fulfil some cisheteropatriarchal norms for sexual conduct, and then Kaz never would have started healing like that. Never gotten to hold Inej’s hand. Never gotten to fuck.

Kaz probably has a fairly concrete idea of what he wants, following Jesper into their… moderately disastrous bedroom. This is his own damn fault, though. If he’d told Jesper he wanted to fuck them—to date them, holy hell, fuck—they would have at least tossed everything they own into the wardrobe and forced it shut. Kaz doesn’t lift an eyebrow, but he’s lived with them for three point five years now, he’s seen worse. So much worse. Floor-piles for dirty, current and clean clothes is downright orderly.

Mercifully, there’s nothing on the bed but a bunched-up duvet and the turtle-shaped pillow.

And Kaz, now. He sits on Jesper’s bed like he’s always belonged there.

Hell, of course Jesper’s imagined it. Kaz in their bed, Kaz in his own bed, Kaz on the kitchen floor, Kaz sitting in the dock in court, Kaz on the stair lift—Kaz is fucking gorgeous, all angles and fire and carefully controlled strength, kindness, wit. Violence. Restraint. They’ve been friends with Kaz for three point five years now and in love just as long.

It’s just that—

“Sit down, Jes,” Kaz rasps, and then passes them the spiky stress ball from under the pillow and the articulated brass fidget pill bug that feels so nice and heavy against Jesper’s hands. Heavy-duty tools. Anchors. It’s kind of unfortunate that Kaz is so perceptive, and so smart.

It’s just that in their fantasies, Jesper never has to explain themself.

Yeah, it’s hypocritical that Jesper’s resentful Kaz apparently wants to talk now. Unfair. They did everything they could to help Kaz and Inej talk about their respective traumas, and besides, it didn’t tend to go that well in the past, when Jesper skipped past the “what kind of creature am I” soul-baring; hence, them so often ending up laying on the plush black carpet in Kaz’ room, bitching about that guy’s PIV fixation or the way a girl always slipped into shit like, “Women just do it better,” when they got her close to orgasm.

“Second thoughts?”

Kaz is very close, all of a sudden. Jesper was just juggling their two fidget balls, but when they turn their head into his voice, their nose almost brushes Kaz’ cheekbone. He stood up again to be near them. They’ve never been this close to one another, not even in that first week they met, when Jesper fucked up their whole life and crashed on his floor.

He’s asking idly, but also holding himself very still, like he doesn’t want them to know it matters a lot to him if they back out now and—fuck, Jesper’s been an asshole. Jesper’s not a nice person, they know that, but thinking about all the people you wish you hadn’t screwed while you’re about to go to bed with your new paramour, that’s a new fucking low.

“’Course not.” Jesper tongues at their lip piercing. That always helps. “You know me. I’m game for everything.”

“So you’d…”

Kaz doesn’t carry on, but he doesn’t need to. Jesper pushes their green sequin blouson off their shoulders, careful not to brush against Kaz, and then they take a side-step to pull their green-white-grey-black striped t-shirt over their head. Lucky find, but it does look better on their floor. They pull off the too-small sports bra too.

Their tits hang like tiny bags of sugar—same flinch as every time, the slight insecurity at the results of that vicious teenage time of too tight ace bandage binding that weakened the tissue into a permanent sag and deformed the right side of their ribcage a little, plus the petulant grief at having to be insecure, when it’s not like Jesper even thinks of themselves as having tits—except now—Kaz is… Jesper would want to date him anyway if he still called himself heterosexual, which he doesn’t, he says he’s queer, and there was that fight where he blackened Matthias’ eye for implying he was appropriating queer identity but he never told Jesper the details, but even if not—they’re good at swallowing that shit down deep, and in all the time they’ve known him, he’s only dated girls.

Well. He’s dated Inej. And one drunk very late night he kissed Nina and threw up, but still, it means something that he kissed Nina and not Matthias, so he probably likes tits. Perky tits, anyway. Maybe less into those lumps that are still attached to Jesper, that are somehow still attached no matter how often they manage to forget them.

So—it’s hard to tell what would be worse. Kaz, rejecting them right now because of the tits, or Kaz liking the tits.

Jesper can deal with it, though. They’ve dealt with it before, for people they liked so much less than Kaz. They are themself. That’s not changing. They know the truth, and that’s enough, so—

“Sit down, Jes.”

They can do orders. It’s nice, sometimes, especially when they manage to completely shut out the incessant internal monologue version of those conspiracy boards and just concentrate, and so they do sit down.

“How do you want this to go?”

No orders, then. Pity. “Well, you fuck me. I fuck you. Either. That’s how it usually—” Jesper bites their lip. Fuck, mentioning past lovers again, they’re usually much better at sex and relationships than this. Much, much better. They’re a suave motherfucker. It doesn’t make sense they’re so off-balance; they haven’t even drunk that much wine. But maybe—they’re pretty sure Kaz doesn’t want them to touch his skin. Not right now, possibly never. They should have thought about that, instead of moping. “Do you want to fuck me?” they ask back.

“We should talk first,” Kaz says. He’s definitely irritated now, and Jesper’s kind of annoyed they flung this relationship out of the honeymoon period into the doldrums and perpetual fights already. Kaz’ irritation just makes his enunciation even more crisp, though, not vicious, when he says, “I thought you believed in the whole enthusiastic, informed consent business? Open, transparent and shame-free discussion of preferences, desires, no-gos? You made a whole workshop when me and Inej got together. You printed handouts.”

“I did so much research,” Jesper mutters. “I didn’t study in the year before I was kicked out, I really didn’t think I could even read, but it just turns out uni doesn’t have the right motivators. Like helping your two besties getting laid.”

“Let’s workshop, then.”

“I was there the whole time, you know,” Jesper says. “I facilitated. Past you had a bad habit of making the worst comments to Inej at the worst possible time, and I had to stay and smooth things over when you killed the mood again. Not that you’re much more romantic now. So unless anything’s changed in a major way, I already know what triggers you, and what you like.”

“It’s not just about me."

“I’m game for anything.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Kaz’ dissent is immediate and harsh, and he’s frowning, but he’s also unbuttoning his vest and then his dress shirt, starting at the cuffs. Does that mean— “You spent way too much time on my carpet bitching about your various boy- and girlfriends and one night stands. There was one woman, Max, you walked back from her flat, a half an hour walk, in the middle of the night, to bother me. Twenty times.”

Yeah, Jesper did. And if Kaz’ feelings aren’t as recent as they suspect then… “Listen, that was a dick move, okay? I wouldn’t have done that if I’d known you were into me, boss, I swear.”

“It’s fine. I hate sleep, most TV’s shit, and you’re moderately entertaining when you’re sad.”

“I’ll have you know I’m delightful. Talking to me is a privilege. I have thousands of friends around the globe and more than a hundred in this city alone.”

“And yet you always went to me.”

“Ease of access. You sleep one bedroom over,” Jesper says, even though—yeah, so they went to what they thought was their token cishet friend to whine about gender, what’s the big deal. It’s not like anyone else related that much, either, and whenever they talked to Wylan—fuck, he was so kind and so sad and so ready to listen, and asked way too many thoughtful questions. He made such a stricken face at how weirded out Jesper was, at him being too nice about their issues. “Boss, you know I don’t like explaining that shit, I told you, it barely makes half sense inside my own brain and when I vomit it out into words it makes even less sense, so I ramble, and then I contradict myself, and then I contradict myself again, the next day—I just want to bitch while you look vaguely bored and disparaging, and then you say something mean that’s helpful when I parse it an hour later. You get it, whatever it even is, because your brain’s into time travel backwards eight-dimensional chess or something and that’s about the level of freak I am. Or your unbeatable poker face just lets you pretend you do.”

Kaz grins. It’s a new grin. Not the grin he shows his friends or his enemies. He has enemies, fucking Christ, like this is a movie. “I have spent three entire years of my life learning to translate Jesper Fahey into English.”

“Six semesters. Way longer than I lasted. I should fake you a diploma.”

“Make it look official, maybe I can use it to scam my way into a real job. All the best crimes are management consulting these days, but they don’t take primary school dropouts.” He’s pulled off his gorgeous understated black brocade vest now and laid it at the foot of the bed. His shirt hangs open. Of course he’s still wearing a thin white undershirt, but that just makes everything look more intimate. Jesper can hardly believe they’re allowed to stare, now, as long as they want. They’d be able to enjoy it more, if Kaz didn’t look moderately annoyed again. No: disappointed, and fuck, that’s worse. “So that’s why you’re so cagey. You’ve never talked about your needs with any partner. You’ve never done anything apart from drunkenly rambling your feelings at my carpet.”

Jesper squeezes their needle ball as hard as they can, but it doesn’t help. It’s never easy, having Kaz be disappointed in you. That’s just one reason why they didn’t want to have this conversation. Almost as bad as Da—no, bad thought, no comparing your Da to the guy you’re going to sleep with. If they don’t fuck this up more.

“Those worksheets for Inej and me were your idea. You practically forced us to talk.”

“Kaz, you two are nerds. I don’t date nerds—well, previously at least, no offense, but—just look at you, you’re screaming issues and high maintenance, you’re wearing a suit for fucks sake. Which is hot. No criticism from me. But I’m easy and fun. That doesn’t exactly gel with an onboarding workshop.”

“We both know that’s code for denying your complicated, painful, hard to explain feelings. Because you’re a coward.”

Going straight for the jugular, as always. Jesper flicks at the rings in their right ear until it hurts. “Fuck, I wish you let me smoke in here.”

“That massively raises the renovation costs before I resell this house, I told you. This is not a home. It’s an investment vehicle, and you’re not damaging it.”

Jesper crawls over a little, so they’re sitting in the middle of the bed, and then they drop their head onto the mattress with force. It ends up right beside Kaz’ thighs, so they can still keep eye contact if they need to, and their knees stick up, feet on the mattress. They could do a shoulder stand now. Would that distract Kaz? Jesper’s naked tits sagging down onto their chin. This evening is so far off track, and Jesper doesn’t even ever make plans.

Kaz groans.

Oh. Jesper’s still wearing boots. Muddy boots. It’s been raining. Who cares—if they can salvage this at all, the bedsheet’s going into the dirty pile anyway.

“Look,” Jesper says. “I just prefer it when my partners only gradually realize I’m a nightmare who never shuts up.”

“Luring them in by pretending to be their manic pixie dream—” Kaz winces. “Sorry, Jesper.”

“No, that’s a technical term, it’s fine, but hey—I don’t flit around and change boring cisdudes; I just make life fun for a couple of weeks. You’ve changed way more lives than me. You changed every single one of our lives, you complete manic pixie corrupt businessman. Inej, Wylan, Nina, Matthias, Kuwei, and I can’t even count how many times you’ve helped me.”

“That might be moving. If you weren’t innumerate.”

“I’ve never even—” Jesper unfurls the big brass pill bug and makes it wriggle up their sternum. The sharp nail legs are soothing against the itching under their skin, and when they look at Kaz again, his eyes are following the toy on Jesper’s bare ribcage, pupils blown wide. “I’ve never said. Thanks for trying so hard with the pronouns, by the way. You’ve never slipped even a single time, even when I change them up twice a week. My own fa—hell, I fucking slip up half the time.”

“I think before I speak,” Kaz replies primly. “Also, you’re not that bad at this either. When I tried out Dirtyhands you actually called me that without snickering. That must have taken serious willpower. Nina’s still wrong about the hair being edgy, but that name…”

“I changed my name first. I’m not a hypocrite.”

Kaz is still staring at them, as if he was waiting for them to solve a puzzle he set before them. Impatient, vaguely amused, hopefully about to grow bored and tell Jesper the answer. “When you found out about the touch aversion—”

“I grabbed you so many times, fuck, I still sometimes—”

“You don’t complain when I hate it. You didn’t even let me apologize when I socked you in the face, either time. You just—roll with it, and you even made me that workshop to expand my idea of sex. Which was very helpful, by the way. We got lots of ideas.”

So that’s what he’s driving at. Some people diverge from normative social roles or expected behaviour, and should be accommodated. There’s no right way to be human. Why does everybody in this polycule end up sounding like Inej’s book club comrades. Except— “That’s a trigger. It’s different.”

Kaz’ gloved hand ghosts over Jesper’s chest, like he’s about to—but the hand makes a beeline for the pill bug, hovering over Jesper’s hand, and they relinquish the toy and lay their hand on their belly instead. It’s the exact same pill bug getting dragged up and down their sternum now even though it’s piloted by Kaz, the exact same nails fashioned into its legs lightly scratching but it feels—fuck, Jesper’s face is getting hot, their hand creeps down their hipbone, this is…

“Not that different,” Kaz says, rasp mingling with the sudden buzzing in Jesper’s ears as if the whole house was talking. The whole world. But it is—the whole world is that hand and the pill bug and the skin underneath. “You… shrink. Or distort yourself, with certain people who are careless about who you are. You turn into a caricature, louder, even more boisterous—and then you move on from them, when you realize you’re faking being Jesper, and that they didn’t even notice. I don’t intend on being moved on from.”

“I do live in your house rent-free. It would be stupid to move.”

“Most people are amazingly stupid. They refuse to observe or listen. They interact with constructs of people they build inside their own heads, and yet they’re shocked when they can’t anticipate the actions of the real person they ignored. I watch. I listen. I don’t like surprises.”

“Spoken like a true serial killer, Kaz.”

“Remember Max?”

“You—she just disappeared, I don’t… oh fuck, is this when you tell me it’s not just a running joke?” And here’s how Jesper knows they’re really not a good person: they’ll never betray Kaz. They don’t for a second stop arching their back while he caresses them with their fidget toy, and they won’t, ever, even if he’s genuinely a serial murderer. Fuck Maxine. Jesper wasn’t even that sad when she suddenly stopped calling, anyway.

“So you still have some respect for me.” Kaz grins. “Her doctorate supervisor was tipped off she’d ‘plagiarized’ both her Bachelor’s thesis and her Master’s and she found out her lease would be terminated so the owner could move in, all in the same week. She moved back home to France.”

Max didn’t plagiarize. Jesper spent a lot of time in her flat back when they were dating, though they never acquiesced to just moving in like she wanted, not just because it would have meant leaving Kaz and ‘Nej and Nina behind or because she’d have freaked out about the gambling but because they never quite felt as understood—anyway, they watched her work, since she was a research associate and they were a delinquent layabout, and she was too anal to plagiarize anything. Which is no protection whatsoever when you piss of Kaz Brekker: he probably broke into her flat, stole the files, reverse-engineered papers to be plagiarized and backdated the web pages he made. That’s what Jesper would have done.

Which means he ruined Maxine’s career. Nuked it from orbit.

Just because she didn’t—

“Fuck, Kaz, I—she was right though, I was going through identities a mile a minute when I was dating her, it could have been a phase or me trying to escape the confines of womanhood or butch flight or whatever, I could have been doing it for attention, I could have been faking it all—”

“You’re not faking, Jesper.” Kaz runs the pill bug over their cheek, and they lean into the scratchy sensation. He smiles. “You don’t have the mental stamina to fake this.”

“Years, and I haven’t found anything that fits, and when I think I’ve got it, I’m wrong. Every word’s just another prison in a month or two. It’s all off. Every category. Every body. Look, I don’t understand it myself, you don’t have to get it.”

“Are you always this pre-emptively defensive?”

“No,” Jesper gripes. “I don’t usually try to explain this shit. Look at this,” they say, walking their feet forward and then arching their back up. Kaz pulls his hand, and the bug, away, and the loss of contact feels cold. “You could have been fucking me, and instead we’re talking about my failures as a person. We do that every other evening anyway. You didn’t need to ask me out for that.”

Kaz just stares while they try to do a gymnastic bridge. They—yeah, they’ve still got it, arms trembling a little but they’re as flexible as ever. Kaz keeps staring. It’s less than heated, even though Jesper’s flexibility was always a great selling… His expression is far more—fond. Then he looks away. He rubs his eyes, or hides them. “You’re my first friend,” he rasps, quietly enough that Jesper almost thinks they’ve imagined that curveball. “None of this would have happened without you. I wouldn’t have—any of this, if you weren’t a stubborn asshole. Letting you stay was the worst mistake I ever made. By now I could have been untouchable, the loneliest mafia boss in the world. At least six feet under.”

Jesper can’t hold the bridge any longer. They collapse into a heap of limbs and affection.

“You tried to describe the way you feel once, as like your skin doesn’t fit, that someone else has dressed you in their skin and it’s foreign and too large and sloughs off and there’s always this itching where it rubs against the flesh that’s real underneath, rubbing it red and raw and bleeding, and still everyone wants to dress you in skin, skin, skin—”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You did. You were really drunk and crying into my carpet. The night I told you to break up with Maxine.”

“No, I meant, I remember that uncharacteristic moment of honesty, but I know I didn’t say it like that, because I don’t have a hidden encrypted hard drive containing the abandoned drafts of five awful horror novellas.”

“It’s called therapy, Jesper, try it some day. The stories need to nauseate: I’m trying to understand my existence, and it’s not my fault you’re a philistine, too squeamish for body horror and gore. Slasher killers are fundamentally, objectively less artistic. Take it from me: I won’t promise you’ll ever be comfortable. I’ll never feel at home in my skin so that I can fully be touched as a human should, even though this skin’s where I’ll be forced to live out the end of my days. It helps to find people who stay despite that discomfort. I’ll always want to go home, but I’m already home.”

“Profound.”

“Well-stolen.”

Jesper curls up. They stare at the piercing in their navel. Really new, but healing nicely. “It’s not cowardice though, Kaz. I tell people about the four-oh-four gender not found situation. But it’s boring, having the same conversation over and over, and with the exact same people, who aren’t even trying to pick a fight, so I can’t, either. I hate boredom. I’m probably going to die in a waiting room. I’m going to kill myself in a waiting room, and then I’ll go to purgatory, and kill myself again so I don’t have to wait for salvation. And I don’t do begging, either, unless the edging is fantastic. It’s not a crime to give up, trying to explain this bullshit that doesn’t even make sense to me and changes every month, to everyone I sleep with. That I’m something that doesn’t even fucking exist.”

Kaz throws his balled-up shirt at their face. He actually throws his shirt at their face, and then he rasps smugly, “What did I just hit? Was it nothing? Was it really nothing?” He rummages in his trouser pockets when they don’t reply quickly enough and pulls out a pocketknife. He flicks it open and takes aim again.

That’s—Jesper tries not to squirm, and fails. It’s fucking unfair, and Kaz’ eyes grow dark and hungry, he can see exactly how much they’re turned on by how weird he is—but they’re dating now so—but also, Kaz gets insufferable if you try to derail him from making a point. Next time. “No, boss, fine, you’re right, your shirt hit me.”

“You exist. Congratulations. And if it’s not a crime to give up, well, you’re a criminal. You commit crimes, not not-a-crimes, ergo, if giving up is legal then it’s not our type of action. Be gay, do crimes. Kill transphobes. Don’t let people stuff you into the wrong box to avoid attention.”

Jesper snorts. “I love attention. Everything I’ve done between the ages of tiny adorable baby and now was a cry for attention. Have you seen me?”

“You’re not going to keep dodging that conversation forever, either. You never got any of the support you should have received and then you crashed and burned and ended up here—”

“Which is honestly the best—”

“—because so allergic to being a burden you still haven’t told your father you’re too ill to continue university.”

“I got kicked—”

“Careful, Jesper, this is an anti-carceral household. The next time we have a general assembly about the fucking chore wheel again I’ll entertain myself by telling Inej what you think, and watch you get argued into submission by her, again, because your gambling addiction’s an illness, or rather, an attempt at self-medicating, not a moral failure. Rat Park, et cetera. ADHD. Severely uneven rates of diagnosis in our racist, sexist and ableist educational and medical systems. Do not make me tattoo ‘I won’t blame myself for having needs’ on the inside of your eyelids. I’ll do it. I’ll buy a stick-n-poke needle and tattoo the inside of your eyelids.”

“That’s too long for the inside of my eyelids.”

“I don’t care. If it doesn’t fit, it’s your eyelids having incomprehensible fragments on them, not mine. I’ll get a very thin needle. You know me, I have steady hands. I’ll hold you down and—”

“Fuck, Kaz. Don’t write checks you’re not cashing—”

Kaz’ pupils are blown wide, and he’s not moving: a cobra about to strike. Just because Jesper’s shuddering on the bed next to him, imagining—but maybe he’s imagining it right now, too, Jesper helpless and at his mercy. He rasps, “You said shibari, earlier. Was it me tied up or you?”

“Either, I’m not picky. I’m really low maintenance—”

He throws the pill bug and Jesper rolls, just in time. That thing is heavy. Not enough punishment for Kaz apparently, because he picks up the cane, too, and dings the crow head against Jesper’s shoulder, hard enough to sting and make them shudder. He hisses, “If you don’t stop saying that, I’ll gag you.”

Fuck. Jesper squeezes their thighs together. It’s good, but not enough pressure, not enough—but just the idea—those words in that delicious rasp—holding them down and—really, Kaz is terrible at threats, it’s a wonder people anyone in Nieuw-West is terrified of him at all. “Anytime, boss. We’ll need a safeword though, and since I’ll be gagged and you’re not fine with touch right now—”

“Squeaky toys, bells, tapping the bed. I don’t know why you decided Inej and me needed that information, but you included it in your lecture.”

“Okay, wait, if you’re really actually telling me you’re into—I think I have a spider gag and some rope, let me look.” Jesper scrambles over to their wardrobe. When they open it, a tower of pilfered sweaters falls out. Shit, Wylan was looking for that one just last week. He was really sad he had to leave without it. Jesper’s going to have to—maybe more flute sheet music.

Kaz quirks an eyebrow.

“Look, if someone had told me they wanted to bone I’d have tidied—no, the box isn’t here, it’s probably under the bed.”

The cardboard box under the bed’s full of screws and dissected machinery, but the one sitting plain and proud on their desk is—“Jackpot.”

“Can I look?”

“I’m an open book. I have no shame. Don’t blame me if you’re so traumatized your eyes melt or…” They trail off, because Kaz is leaning over their shoulder, not touching but still very, very close. It’s probably just their imagination, but they can feel the warmth radiating off his chest. They rifle through the box. “Sorry, I swear I got custody of that gag in the divorce. I’ll buy a new one the next time I win some money.”

Kaz points. “A switch?”

“That doesn’t even need to be in here, it’s mostly for—makes the jittering in my skin shut up.” Jesper hits their arm and then throws the metal switch under the bed. It hits the case of their largest airsoft gun instead. Close enough.

“And that?”

“That’s a huge violently neon green and purple striped glow in the dark strap-free strap-on shaped like a tentacle.” Jesper shrugs. “I have poor impulse control?”

“Do you—enjoy it?”

Oh. Oh.

Kaz looks at them with his deep dark coffee eyes while he slowly moves his hand, and when they nod, he trails his strong clever fingers along the tentacle and explores its ridges and suction cups. The thought of that glove on Jesper’s skin—

“It’s alien enough. Nothing like skin. Which end—which end do you—prefer?” Kaz asks, stuttering a little, the tips of his ears bright red, far more precious than a man who broke someone’s finger last week has any right to. But then, Kaz Brekker’s never limited himself to what he has the right to do.

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

“Would you like to?”

Oh fucking hell. Jesper swallows some unfortunate sounds. “Yeah.”

Kaz picks the dildo up. “I’m honoured you saved your tentacle virginity for me,” he rasps, his voice so deep it must be deliberate, and moves it around with distinctive, hilarious care, the neon green latex embraced by thin leather. He bends it, lets it snap back, then flicks his fingers at the tip to make it wobble. Testing the material and texture for hidden sensory traps. The front tentacle’s about the length of his forearm. Kaz raises it to his mouth and licks the tip—fuck, Kaz—and then he frowns. “Wait. You I distinctly recall you calling me a monster fucker for that short story I let you read.”

“It was super gross, boss.”

“It was a grotesque horror story, you idiot. It was meant to disgust. The tentacles were a metaphor.”

This is probably not the time to admit how often Jesper wanked—not over the story itself, because that was nauseating, they already knew Kaz’ brain was magnificently fucked up but just how the hell did he even think of—but over the idea of Kaz writing it, weighing words like ‘slick’ and ‘gooey’ against each other, figuring out logistics and anatomy and the exact undulations and placements of the tentacles to make his horror short satisfy his fastidious, bean counter self.

“You want to—Kaz, have you ever sucked a dick before?”

Kaz’ doesn’t reply, but the way his lovely sharp cheeks grow an even lovelier, blotchier red is answer enough.

“Damn, congratulations to Inej, the luckiest woman in Nieuw-West!”

As ever when her name is uttered, Kaz’ eyes grow soft. “I’m lucky.”

“You are. She is. And you should tell her that out loud, sometime.” If he hasn’t already—but Kaz just looks away. Some more bullying is in order, then. Later. Jesper picks up the tentacle and shoves the box under their bed. “You’re very infinitesimally luckier now, though. Trust me, I’m a fantastic lay.”

“So you say. Thus far, I’ve seen no proof.”

“Oh, fuck you, boss.” Jesper’s never backed down from a challenge, and Kaz just said that because he knows it, like they’re a machine whose buttons he can push at will. Well. There are definitely some buttons inside Jesper they want him to push… “Just wait, I’ll make you scream my name.”

“I scream your name every day. Usually because you’ve overslept.”

Well, Jesper’s not the only one with buttons. “Love you too, boss,” they mutter nonchalantly, to the side, as if to themselves, and watch Kaz’ cheeks grow redder. He shuts up, but he stays—that button’s not red and nuclear anymore, presumably because Inej’s pressed it a bunch—and Jesper lays the tentacle down and bends over, hopping to pull each of their trouser legs over the heels of their feet. There. Socks off too, and they’re naked. In front of Kaz, who’s always made it seem like their genital and general body configuration are incidental to how he sees them, but maybe—but life’s too short to live with regrets, and even if this changes everything about how he treats them, whatever, they can deal with losing this one safe—tomorrow’s tomorrow, and they’ve still got a chance tonight to sleep with Kaz fucking Brekker. They love him. Whether he’ll still see them after this doesn’t—

Jesper picks up the strap-on, not looking at Kaz. They spread their legs, pull their lips apart and start easing the bulbous bit at the back end of the dildo inside. It feels a little big, though not as oversized as the tentacle part—not that Jesper really searched, this was an impulse buy, but there probably aren’t any size small tentacle dildos on sale anywhere—monster fetishes feel like a size queen thing, somehow, though this here has nothing to do with monsters, it’s just Kaz and Jesper, trying to figure out how to use whatever tools they have at hand for fun and profit, exactly like old times, just with new better class of fun. And zero profit.

That’s all this is. No monumental changes whatsoever. Reality can wait until tomorrow. This is just Kaz, Jesper’s best friend, and nothing will change.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, this—protuberance, whatever people call it, pony? Saddle horn—no, ew, that’s just wrong, but I’ve definitely read—it’s a little bigger than I’m used to. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need lube?” He probably looks concerned. Jesper still doesn’t meet his eyes.

“If I was unaroused, probably, yes. But I don’t have—arousal lubricates and dilates that hole enough to fit—you know all of that, I gave you thorough sex ed.”

“You milked that hyperfixation for all if was worth. You had far too much fun. That unprovoked, fully deranged duck sex lecture went on for an entire hour.” Kaz sounds amused enough that Jesper chances a glance while they wriggle the bulb inside, and they’re rewarded with the sight of Kaz with his face flushed, staring at them, just as he did during that lecture. His trousers are tented, just like when Jesper gave him that lecture, too, except his hair’s much better—fuck, Inej really is a more skilled hairdresser than Jesper—and back then Jesper did everything humanly possible to make him think they hadn’t noticed he accidentally got hard talking about the mechanics of sex, for his own sake. Hence, awful lies about duck penises.

“Don’t remind me, boss. Do you know how hard that was, when I didn’t even have time to google funny animal sex facts?!”

“I have it on good authority that Jan van Eck was immeasurably grateful for your wisdom. He received emails from every contact he ever had and every local and national politician, tipping him off about business opportunities like, invest in pasta now before the coming fusilli shortage when all duck’s penises in Italy have been harvested.”

“Fuck.” Double fuck: the strap-on’s slipped out because Jesper was laughing, what the fuck, that hurt a little, and Kaz shouldn’t be allowed to remind them about his edgiest edgelord who’s working up the nerve to confess to his crush phase, doesn’t he know Jesper was really into it?

He knows, the bastard. That’s why he did it. He’s manipulating them, and showing his hand too: manipulating them by reminding them of the years they’ve been friends, and it’s working. It’s working. Jesper got tossed out of uni and lost the money Da sent that they should have used for groceries and flat-share rent, four months’ worth of it, all in one day, the day on which then they tried to save a stranger with a limp and a sharp crabby face from getting beaten up, and-or to get themselves beaten to death before Da found out about how utterly they’d screwed up. Kaz knew from the start they were a failure, and he’s never treated them as an idiot, except when it’s funny. Really, the only thing that ever fundamentally changed Kaz’ opinion of them was that mention about being in the marksmen guild as a teenager. He’s weathered all their incomprehensible identity crises.

The bulb end goes in pretty smoothly when Jesper tries again, and when they give the strap-on a nice tug, it stays seated, moving a little and with not as much friction as they might have liked, but it’s okay against the clit.

“I’m ready.”

“Come here—”

“Wait. We haven’t figured out the logistics yet. You’re the logistics person, the plotter, the mastermind—we’re not touching at all tonight, are we, so the best position would be—”

“Kneeling works just fine for oral sex.”

“Kneeling works fine for people who don’t have a crippled leg.”

“My body, my choice.”

“Look, boss, when you did this with Inej—if you were in her room, she has a soft carpet, and I can personally attest to how comfortable yours is. I don’t have a carpet.”

“Why would you need one when no-one’s seen the floor in years?” Kaz rolls his eyes. “Before you ask, no, I shan’t kneel on your dirty laundry. You like those felt ball carpets, don’t you? The gaudy eyesore ones. I’ll place an order tomorrow.”

“So—”

Kaz limps over to Jesper’s bed and picks up their big turtle pillow. He holds it up to his face for a second—it is incredibly comfortable, a riot of textures on the patchwork shell but so well-made the seams don’t chafe—and then he turns and raises an eyebrow. “This will do. Unless you have more pointless—objections?”

“If it’s not soft enough take the duvet and fold—I mean, shutting up now, boss, sorry for caring—” Jesper curls in their shoulders at his glare and seesaws back and forth and Kaz’ cheeks flush incredibly red. They follow his gaze and get momentarily distracted by the way the tentacle bobs between their legs with every slight movement. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“One of these days you’ll realize you cannot kill me in any way that matters,” Kaz rasps, lying baldly. “But I will destroy you.”

Jesper snorts. “Please destroy me, Kaz Brekker, I’m ready.”

Kaz settles on his knees in front of them. He does use the pillow—Jesper doesn’t know what they’d have done if he’d insisted on torturing his leg, call Inej for backup?—and then he raises his hands to hover over their hips. His shoulders are bare and his chest is only covered with a thin tight undershirt, but he’s still wearing his gloves. That’s probably for his own sake, a shred of security or to push them off if necessary, but the sheer idea that he’s kept them on because he plans to touch them—Jesper forces themself to stand very, very still, even though the bulb end of the tentacle’s a hot weight in-between their legs and Kaz is glancing up at them through his lashes and his slicked-back hair’s starting to disobey and there’s not enough friction, not enough contact, not enough anything.

But Jesper can deal with everything being not enough. Nothing is ever enough. And they trust Kaz. He’ll give them the relief they need. He’ll—

His touch on their left thigh is soft. There’s a ragged knife scar there that he gently rubs with the tips of his fingers, before his hand moves to Jesper’s ass and takes hold. It’s—he’s—Jesper’s had that glove on their bare skin before but never to hold them in place and never on their ass, and it’s—unnecessary, Kaz must know they won’t crowd him in any way, they won’t, they’ll be good, and it’s not like this cheap strap-free dildo will provide enough friction to really drive them out of their mind on a blow job. This was always going to be more for the visuals, and the closeness.

Kaz, on his knees, with his red wet tongue darting out and touching tip of Jesper’s tentacle. He opens his mouth a little and takes it into his mouth, and with his teeth dug in and holding Jesper in place by their hip, he tugs, releases, tugs. It’s—Jesper doesn’t have words for a lot of things, and this—it’s—

“Fuck, Kaz,” Jesper gasps.

That’s the only thing they can think of: fuck, Kaz, who’s here and now and enjoying this at least as much as they are, apparently, with the way he’s taking his hand off their hips and is only giving the dildo distracted little pulls while he’s opening his fly and pulling out his dick.

“Yeah, fuck, darling, just like—” Jesper mumbles, subtly leaning their torso sideways to get a better view.

Kaz’ teeth release the strap-on—maybe they weren’t subtle enough—but he just bites into the fingertips of his left glove and pulls it off, lets it drop, then licks his palm. Fair enough. Then he holds his right hand up above his head and rasps, “If you can stay still, do you want me to—”

“You stole my bullet vibe?!”

“I can tell a dildo from a vibrator.” Kaz’ hoarse, smug voice settles like honey in Jesper’s gut. “And unless you planned on me getting an intense neck muscle workout, this tentacle…”

“This doesn’t have to—boss, just watching you on your knees is—”

“What did I tell you about making unilateral decisions?”

“Not to make them until you give me permission.” He’s meeting their eyes now, and his lips are very red. He isn’t pumping the hand on his dick anymore: perhaps in solidarity, considering they’re not getting any friction right now either, though the idea of telling anyone about Kaz Brekker doing anything whatsoever out of solidarity—but they’ll go to their grave stuffed to the brim with the secrets he’s gifted them. “Then it’s not unilateral anymore, though, is it?”

“Why do you think I’m sleeping with you, Jesper?”

Jesper puts their hands over their face. As carefully as possible: they promised not to move at all; they can’t escape, with how close Kaz is, not if they refuse to take the risk of bumping into him, and he’s going to turn any joke into a discussion that they can only lose. The only way out is fast-forwarding to the inevitable defeat. They groan into their fingers, “Mercy please, just use the vibe, please, I’ll be good.”

Laughter ghosts against their navel. “You’re very agreeable when you’re not allowed to move.”

“Please tie me up next time, this is hard, I’m dying.”

“My condolences.” The bullet vibe whirrs to life—first, then second lowest setting, but Jesper’s wound so tight from having to stay still their belly’s trembling and they’re clenching around the bulb anyway, the higher ones would probably just overstimulate but—he must press the vibe against the strap-on pretty close to where it penetrates them because it starts juddering softly, gently, but steadily increasing as he moves the vibe and then they can feel it against the taut skin around the strap shaft, making the muscles contract and push and feel and Jesper holds themselves so, so still.

“You can pull my hair,” Kaz rasps.

“Are you—?”

The bullet vibe skips two settings, and Jesper shudders. They bury their hands in Kaz’ hair out of self-defence—enough presence of mind left to sweep the strands away from his scalp with their fingertips before they take hold—

They can hear the whirring and his hair and their breath and the quick movement of Kaz’ hand on his dick and the occasional synthetic squeaks when his teeth slip off the latex of the tentacle. Feel the strands of thick hair in their fists as they barely dare push his mouth onto—the constant buzz of the vibe outside while he’s softly biting, pushing, pulling the strap-on and they’re not opening their eyes, not now, if they allow anything apart from their hands to move, that permission could go astray and end up inside their mouth, their toes, their knees. If they do anything, this moment could end.

It does, of course.

Not right when Jesper comes, because they bite their lip bloody to remain absolutely motionless, but a short while later, they realize they can’t hear the sound of Kaz’ hand anymore, and the tentacle’s not moving, and then there’s hair tickling their belly.

Kaz’ head rests against Jesper’s stomach for hours or minutes. They can’t even tell the time by the urge to fidget right now: just like running from a fistfight or stalking a rival gang, their body just exists in the moments after orgasm, lives, breathes, hums. Kaz’ sweaty messed up hair caresses them a little with every minuscule movement. His left glove is on their hip again, pressing the tiny warm capsule shape of the vibe against their bare skin.

His breath’s a little louder than theirs, and then, he groans. Pain.

Jesper knew it.

“Just imagine how much worse your leg would be without the pillow,” they mutter, pulling away. Kaz’ head follows them, but only a fraction of a centimetre: he stays kneeling while they pull out the strap-on. There’s an actual tooth mark on the tip, but when Jesper tries for, “Wow, you really mauled my tentacle,” the only reply is his breathing, so they wrap it in some tissues and toss it on the bed—they’ll clean it later, when Kaz is fine.

They pick up the cane he’s leaned against their bed and come back to squat before him, hands braced wide around him in case he’s unsteady when he heaves himself back onto his feet. He doesn’t need the help, luckily. He probably still wouldn’t have accepted it.

While Kaz staggers over to Jesper’s bed, they search the floor for—the t-shirt will do. It’ll get washed anyway.

“Here,” Jesper says. “Clean yourself off a little.”

Kaz takes the shirt without looking at them. He wipes the come off his dick before tucking it away, tosses the shirt onto Jesper’s ‘to be washed’ pile—now upgraded to, ‘wash tonight’—and then he starts massaging his right leg. If it’s cramping, he’ll need to calm the pain a little before he can make his way to the next room unaided.

They sit down next to him. If he needs a moment of silence—well, Jesper can use a reprieve as well, before they find out whether they’ve just fucked their oldest friendship for a fuck. Unlike most puns—shut up Matthias—this one’s miserably unfunny. It’s a little cold in here, too, and so Jesper slowly lowers their back onto the bed until they can reach the shirt Kaz threw at them without moving too much and then crunches back up. It only faintly smells of Kaz, when they put it on. Mostly detergent. He must’ve put it on fresh for tonight.

When they glance over at Kaz, he’s staring at the strip of skin left over from the unbuttoned shirt.

“Hold still,” Kaz rasps.

“Why do you insist on torturing me,” Jesper complains. “Again.” They try again, though, trapping their hands under their legs just in case. There’s no order Kaz has ever given that they didn’t—attempt to follow.

“Shut up.”

Jesper’s about to tell him that that’s even worse when Kaz leans forward. His nose bumps theirs, because they weren’t expecting—and then they both turn their head to the same side and bump noses again.

“Hold still for once in your life,” Kaz grumbles, and then his closed warm lips touch theirs.

After a second or an hour, Kaz slowly breaks away. It’s—he’s still so close, barely a nose-length, and his brown eyes are like drowning pools. His breath ghosts over Jesper when he says, “My apologies. I’ll make sure to never torture you again.”

“I won’t question you again, boss. Can I—?” Jesper slowly moves their left hand to the back of Kaz’ head, and Kaz’ pupils follow the movement of their arm. Kaz nods. Of course he’s fine—he did tell Jesper to grab his hair earlier, after all, but it feels better now that Jesper’s made sure, they can stop watching themself so hard when they grab his hair and pull his face back towards their own, mouth against mouth again except this time Jesper opens theirs and licks Kaz’ upper lip gently, and Kaz opens his mouth too. Jesper’s tongue traces his teeth, and the edges of his incisors are a soothing reminder that this is real, Jesper’s kissing Kaz, they’re bumping their tongue against his real, actual human tongue and he faintly tastes of latex. If they concentrate, they can almost taste the exact horrendous shade of green. It’s fantastic.

Kaz’ right hand, at some point, moved to Jesper’s jaw and it’s just cupping their face, leather and latex and hair and all Kaz and really, this could go on forever and ever, like the sex—and just like sex, it doesn’t.

He pulls away, and Jesper opens their eyes in time to see him wipe his hand over his mouth.

When Kaz limps over to the door, a few minutes—a few kisses—later, he takes short steps and leans heavily on his cane, which probably—Jesper’s going to go over and bully him into taking his pain meds once he’s gone to his room. It’s a full-time job, forcing him to take mercy on himself.

Too much work for a single person, honestly: Jesper truly believes that the only way to actually manage Kaz Brekker’s non-sexual masochism is polyamory. That man needs five—or six, since Kuwei’s sort of in the polycule even though he doesn’t live with them—he needs a whole crew to force him to relax, and even then, he’s never actually relaxed. A whole entourage for him to look at and remember he saved all their lives and owns their house and they’d be fucked without him, so he’d better let them take care of him. Let them help him. Let them adore him.

At least the loving Kaz job doesn’t merit hazard pay anymore, unlike Jesper’s first year pestering Kaz Brekker, gorgeous teenage wannabe crime lord and much more importantly, purveyor of a dry warm floor for free which then morphed into a whole room for Jesper to call their home, and—anyway, the first time they nursed him through a bad flu he alternated between panic attacks and—mostly—attempted bodily harm. Jesper’s never telling him where that knife scar in their left thigh comes from. They’d rather keep believing he never regrets his crimes.

Now he looks happy although he’s barely staggering to the door; blithe, maybe even giddy if that’s a word anyone’s allowed to apply to Kaz.

He stops in the doorway and turns around.

Oh yes. The shirt. Jesper’s still wearing his dress shirt, he’ll want that back, and—

“I’ll tell you why that corpse sprouted tentacles that sucked the skin off the narrator and left behind his barely-living body raw and sensitive and bleeding, if you ask,” Kaz rasps. His eyes are locked onto the piercing in Jesper’s nose, as if he’s afraid to meet their eyes. Kaz should never be shy, let alone scared. And after what they just— “Not tonight, though. Tonight was… I don’t want to ruin tonight.”

“I’ll ask whenever you want me to,” Jesper promises. “Look, there were tentacles. That’s just a pornography classic. Of course I—after all, you hired me for my lateral thinking.”

“It’s a stretch to call what you do thinking.” Kaz is smiling again, though, right at them. A beat. His mouth starts resembling a very hungry shark, which means he’s got them a job. “By the way, you’re taking the week off from work. I already called them from your phone. Don’t bother turning off your alarm though, tomorrow we’re making every single one of Geels’ kids regret they were ever born. Poppy saved a kid from getting queerbashed a few hours ago. Must’ve been bad if she called me. She says she recognized the tattoo.”