#this seems to be a nice and clear way of doing it

[prettyboykatsuki]

mixed messages | r. sukuna

✮  tags ; gn + afab!reader, unhealthy relationships, not cheating but reader flirts with gojo while tipsy for fun, undefined relationships, fingering / making out, jealousy, modern!sukuna, sukuna and yuuji r brothers 18+

✮ wc ; 2k

✮  a/n ; a snippet / extension of my modern sukuna post for @arguablyferal. i hope it gives a clear-ish idea of what he's like!!

some more like. relationship explanation in an authors note at the end.

✮  synopsis ; you've never been able to get a good read on him. would he really come to a party just to keep you from flirting with another guy ?

somehow you doubt it.

He's hitting on you.

Gojo is, you think. Though you can't be sure since it feels...a little conceited to believe that a guy like that suddenly developed a genuine interest in you. You can think of a couple reasons he would hit on you, all of them to do with getting on Sukuna's last nerve in their never-ending rivalry.

But it's weird because it doesn't really feel like he's just messing around. As in, it doesn't seem like it's just for that reason.

You know Gojo. Not as close as Shoko or Getou might but enough to comfortably call yourself a distant friend. A little more than acquaintance but less then close.

He's facetious—melodramatic, really—totally by design. By necessity, some of it is an act, but you're good enough at reading him to know what's playful and what's not.

That's why you think that Gojo is really hitting on you. He's using the fact Sukuna, your...whatever, isn't here attending with you. He was supposed to be here but he flaked last minuted on coming with you. You ended up taking Yuuji and his friends though, anyhow.

You're letting him do it. He's serious about hitting on you, and he probably knows you're not very serious about returning his feelings.

But you're entertaining it, despite yourself.

Everyone you know is looking the other way while it happens too. Gojo is leaned close, sitting next to you in a plastic chair, and you're just a little bit buzzed. Humid summer air warms your skin, makes you want to sink into the night.

You're not touching, but you're too close for not-quite-friends. Gojo edges on touchy. A soft nudge here and there, the kind of proximity you shouldn't have. Gojo is a breath away, sober because he doesn't like alcohol.

And he's super friendly, which is nice.

A beat of silence settles between you as the night rolls in a little heavier.

Gojo says you what you assume he's been thinking about all night, without any real introduction.

"You should break up with him," He says, just over a can of soda with a kind of sincerity that makes you restless. You feel your nerves flip.

Your mouth moves before your mind has a chance to fill in the answer. You laugh. "I know."

"You're really too good for him, tsk," Gojo laments, clicking his teeth. Playful again, using just enough drawback so that you don't suffocate in the honesty. You shouldn't entertain this but the attention is nice. "And gosh, you're so much more fun without that dark cloud hanging around you, y'know"

You giggle unconsciously at the thought of Sukuna as a dark cloud. Big and broad with a deep voice—it's an astute comparison. Shaking your head, you give him a playful glance. "Am I really more fun? I feel like I'm not as good a conversationalist as a certain someone,"

Gojo smiles at you proudly. "I'm having fun at least."

You close your eyes and take another, much longer drink. "Yeah, me too."

"If you know you can do better, why bother with him? I figure that bastard might be holding you hostage but," He's serious again, brows raised. "You've got more options, you know?"

You shrug, absently. You don't know the answer yourself. It's one thing that Sukuna never quite lets you leave but it's another thing you come back to him every time. You settle on your reply with closed eyes then laugh a little too loud. Gojo doesn't startle.

"Who knows? But you know, thank you anyway. It's good to have options. Maybe it'll knock some sense into me,"

Friendly again. He's a nice guy you think.

"If it doesn't, make sure to give me a call. I'm pretty great too, y'know."

You give him a lighthearted smile.

It's hard to hear much over the loud thump of music. You're not very in touch with your surroundings and the pleasant air around you all but swallows you.

It takes you a minute. Longer than you care to admit, to realize that someone is approaching you. Even longer to realize who.

Sukuna is looming over you and Gojo when you finally look up.

"Having fun?"

You blink, pulling away to make sure you're hearing correctly. Sinking back into your chair, your eyes flicker up to whats casting shadow overhead. His voice almost bellows, deep and coarse but not loud.

"I thought you weren't coming," Is all you can think to say. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. I thought so too,"

He doesn't ask you to get up as much as he tugs you towards him. He's careful not to pull too hard but you come up still on a stumble, drink still in hand, and face in his chest. Your heart thumps, embarrassed by the sudden warmth. His hand sits on your lower back and suddenly there's a conversation happening overhead.

"Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," He spits. He's talking to Gojo you realize.

"Be careful there, nii-san. You're gonna make it seem like you care."

Sukuna tenses under you before he relaxes again - rolling his eyes. He's not happy about it but you can hear that he's trying not to let it show.

"Stay out of it." Sukuna demands. Gojo whistles.

"Sure, sure. You two have fun there."

Sukuna turns you around like that, your face still in his chest as he drags you away. You hear Gojo laugh faintly as you walk further away from the crowd.

__

You don't really get any explanation from Sukuna as he packs you and himself in the backseat of his car.

He's quiet the entire walk there, and the air is so heavy your lungs can't find a breath around it. He doesn't say anything to you even as he opens the back door. He tells you to get in but doesn't show any emotion you discern.

Instead you end up laying in the backseat with Sukuna over you - cramped as his tongue slips all the way into your mouth and his hands grab your waist. All too sudden, without any ceremony at all.

You kiss back because he's being so suffocating and it's all you can think to do to appease him. As soon as he lets you breathe, you put a hand on his chest and push him away.

You make eye contact but he still hasn't said a word. "Are you mad?"

He sneers. "You tell me,"

He ducks down again to kiss you and you let him this time, doing your best to gauge what exactly he's thinking. You know he's upset, rather - but it's weird. Something is different about it.

His mouth is hot as he hands slide underneath your shirt further- his knees keeping your legs apart as his thigh presses against your clothed sex. You shiver, moaning into his mouth and Sukuna swallows the noise. Gasping, you pull back again.

"All you do is piss me off you brat," He tugs your lip back between his incisors as he speaks, voice bordering on a snarl. "You should know better than to cozy up to that idiot."

You squirm. "I wasn't cozying—"

"You think I'm fucking stupid? Think I don't got eyes to see with?" And then, like he's predicting your next question. "Yuuji texted me."

"And you came?" You stop, keeping him from going any further. "You came 'cause Yuu-chan sent you a picture of me and Gojo-kun....?"

He ignores your question. "Take your pants off,"

You make a face at him but oblige, hands unbuttoning your jeans as Sukuna practically tugs you out of them and your panties in one go. He sits back up on his legs and maneuvers carefully to keep his hands between your thighs. His middle finger runs through your slit, palm putting pressure on your clit.

He's rushing more than normal, mouth crushing yours again in a kiss so heavy it makes you gasp. You feel like you're imagining it but each time you pull back - his teeth sink into your lips until they're throbbing from how hard he's bitten them up.

He's possessive. Always has been. He's territorial over you in one way or another over everything, but it's usually only when you threaten to leave. There's a merit to what Gojo said about keeping you held down. But even in that, there's never any emotion stronger than annoyance to follow your little tantrums. You wouldn't call what you feel now desperation by any stretch.

But it's something more then simple possession and it makes you ache.

"I wasn't gonna do anything with him." You say half-way between a breath. You see his jaw tick with irritation at the mere thought. "It was just for fun—"

He quiets you with his fingers. With his hands, rough - spitting hard on your clit from where above making it splatter against your thighs. His fingers fingers the thick layer of spit and drag them down against your throbbing clit to make it wetter. He touches you hard and fast, places kisses against your jaw and collar before sinking his teeth into the clothed shape of your tits.

His fingers find your pussy not long after. Thick, scarred, intrusive - he slips them in one at a time. As much as he knows you can take until he touches that spot inside of you that leaves your whole body tingling. Knuckle deep, he presses his palms up against your clit to make sure you have the right friction. You moan his name loud, eyes rolling up into your head,

The windows are starting to fog.

"Sukuna,"

He grabs hold of your face with free hand, bordering on a snarl. It's mean you think, but more then that there's a genuine frustration to it that makes you shiver almost shamefully.

"You're mine." He sneers. You feel your cunt twitch unhelpfully at but Sukuna doesn't budge. Doesn't even go to make fun of you He just keeps growling, leaning in to kiss you - forcing his tongue into your mouth and pulling away again. "Get close with that bastard and I'll kill him."

Your stomach flutters in arousal at the aggression in it. The unreasonable, unhelpful, trained part of your brain nearly screams. He wants you, he wants you, he wants. It makes you wanna—

"G-gonna—gonna cum, fuck, Sukuna."

He kisses you again, murmuring against your lips. "Cum,"

Your thighs clamp around Sukuna's wrists as he continues to finger you, grinding yourself the edge of his palm as you ride out your high. Your voice pitches into a high whine, spine arching. It's rushed but intense, scratching the itch but not enough to tamp down the heat completely. You squirt around his fingers in a full blown gasp and find you can barely get your head above water.

You cum hard, convulsing. He doesn't move his hand until you grab him by the wrist and shake your head. Surprisingly, he listens easily and pulls away.

You pause and stare at him after you've caught your breath.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Stay the fuck away from that guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's right. It's starting to sound like you love me or something. I wasn't gonna sleep with him anyway so chill out."

He scoffs. "Don't even fucking dream of it. I'd kill you both."

You take a second to look at him. You can't read him to save your life. But he's looking back at you, into you maybe, in a way that makes you wonder if there's something about him you're missing. You wrap your arms around his neck just to see if he'll tell you to stop clinging.

He doesn't though.

"Did you really come all the way here 'cause of what Yuu-chan sent you?"

He glares at you. "Are you deaf? Didn't I say that?"

"But then it sounds like you were jealous."

He rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"....You were jealous? Really?"

"Shut up already," He says. And maybe it's the alcohol but you swear his face goes warm. "And seriously stay away from that idiot. If I see some shit like that again I'm locking you in the house and chaining you to my bed."

"Weird proposal but okay."

"Dumbass."

"You love me,"

He rolls his eyes and goes to kiss you. Doesn't deny it, you notice. You pretend not to be giddy.

"Whatever."

✮ extended authors note ; hi!! i hope sukunas personality made sense here.

my point with sukuna in modern is that i think it takes away a lot of his unsavory aspects but the deep sense of possession and ownership sort of stays. this is a modern au so he's different from canon in many ways.

he has a hard time committing but he also does not do things he doesnt want to so him spending time with you and wanting your loyalty are both genuine desires. he understands why you're entertaining gojo's flirting and rationally knows it's unfair to want loyalty from you.

but he's into you so he gets. fucking pissed anyway. skjsjd. anyways i hope u liked it and i hope it made sense!! i just wanted to add this incase!!!

[thetadispatcher]

Peter frowned a bit at Willow's remark, but he decided not to ask for an explanation of what she thought was so easy just in case it wasn't directed at him specifically.

"Deviants have the same issue, if they get too stressed they'll self destruct... Not like explode, but bash their own brains in on whatever they can find. So far Vincent is the only one I've seen hit one hundred percent stress and not self destruct, we theorize his fear of loud noises overrides the self destruct protocol." He still had yet to find what the cause of self destructing was, as it was hard to find out what goes on during the event when the android effectively destroys the one thing that would hold the answer. And he didn't want to trigger it in a monitored android, it was too risky as he had no way to stop it once it began.

"But I understand the importance of keeping this from getting out, so don't worry about that." He knew it wouldn't lead to anything good if other found out about the existence of human brains in a digital format, and he didn't want to be asked about it as he wouldn't be able to provide any kind of suitable answer.

"And I don't really care to know why you have digital copies of human brains, something tells me the reason isn't something I would like to know." If someone had felt the need to do such a thing, and if the people the scans belonged to were no longer around, he had a feeling something terrible had happened. And he really didn't want to know what that something was, as Strasky's appearance made it clear just how terrible whatever had happened had been, and he didn't want to randomly start thinking about it.

Nines turned to look at them again when he heard his model mentioned, he had been listening as Brent hardly ever spoke well he was working so there wasn't much for him to do well he waited. "It is not the first time I've heard a threat on Kamski's life, nor will it likely be the last. Gavin makes them regularly, and I have heard androids say such things as well." He commented, hearing the creator of Cyberlife be issued death threats wasn't new to him, in fact he felt it was just a common thing to hear at that point in time.

"But if you must, try to not make it obvious it was you. I am a detective unit, so it would likely fall on me or my predecessor to solve it." Nines knew he shouldn't say such a thing, but after hearing stories from humans and androids alike of their experiences with the man he could care less what happened to him.

Peter looked away from Nines once he realized he was being spoken to again, answering with a small shrug. "He just kinda showed up and made himself at home. He hasn't done anything worth kicking him out for, and he seems to be friends with Vincent even if he refuses to admit it." Sure the android was rather odd and strange, but so were quite a few who also lived in the house, so it wasn't anything too surprising for Peter. And it was nice to see Vincent socializing with anyone that he wasn't initially forced to acclimate to, which felt like a good step in the right direction for the AP700 and he didn't want to risk compromising that. "Sure, he makes demands of me, but I promised never to make another android like Dan." And that wasn't a promise he planned to ever break as he trusted Dan to never hurt someone just because he had the ability to do so, and Dan would get upset if he broke it which he really didn't want.

Dan glanced at Peter before some movement out in the hall caught his attention, the movement being Sixty and a Jerry messing around with something he knew they shouldn't be. He carefully removed Peter from him before getting up and approaching the two, who quickly noticed him and took off. Dan gave chase as he saw they were still holding something they likely shouldn't have.

Nines watched the scene looking mildly amused to witness the PL600 have to chase down androids behaving like children. Peter seemed indifferent as it was a very normal occurrence to him, he was already looking at the pictures Strasky was showing to him on the Omnitool well listening to him explain the role of each person so he'd know how to build the custom units.

"That would be the RK800 that was mentioned earlier and a EM400, a hivemind android. EM400 are naturally child-like as they are used at amusement parks, and now some are finding other ways to entertain themselves like what was just seen." Nines explained as Peter was busy jotting down notes and getting the photos he needed from Strasky to explain the function of an EM400, and why one would be following around Sixty. "They call themselves Jerry, and as of right now there are only two present on the property. The other is likely with Ralph, a damaged WR600, to keep him from getting into any danger."

Whatever joke Rook had planned to make was set aside as she eyed the two. She obviously saw nothing wrong with hanging out with alternative versions of herself. It was kind of like meeting a distant cousin, expect they were unlikely to disappoint like most relatives do. Even Bishop had little to complain about his. They both acted the way one would expect from the likes of him.

Really, it was his fault for being an asshole. She glanced at the agent, then turned to Nines. It didn't seem like a smart idea to make android cops, but that world didn't exactly shine for its bright ideas.

"Oh, you have it so easy around here." Willow scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Those engrams have a tendency to destabilize. I'd prefer to resolve any compatibility issues myself. Whatever funding you may need, consider it covered. Again, feel free not to question the source. Not every corner of the world is as content with the existence of digital beings, it'd save me some extra work."

"You should consider moving here." Bishop suggested, a faint grin on his face. He found the concept of adopting androids amusing. Some people truly went through great lengths to find humanity in everything.

Not that he cared to understand it when he hardly contemplated showing basic decency towards the aliens he had captured.

"Having to share the planet with Kamski is miserable enough. I have no intention of moving any closer."

"What about your plans to murder him?"

"Please, do not quote me in the presence of the RK900."

"Oh, he really wants a katana up his ass." Rook mused, before turning to Peter, "I think it's cool that you've got brothers. What I don't get is why you're keeping the Bishop shaped one around."

[kismetlotts]

Omg omg hii I have this super request of Price slipping into his beautiful neighbour’s house, (just the way the man was so good at staying in the shadows when he entered Shepherd’s pffice) slipping something funny into the water she’s supposed to drink after a workout... She passes out in a matter of minutes after sitting down and by the time she wakes up, she’s so sore and sticky yet can’t even seem to remember why... or falling asleep at all!

Fucking love this idea! Got a little carried away though and made Price a bit of a stalker- but I hope you don’t mind!

cw: noncon, rape, use of drugs (spiking), Price is a little bit of a stalker, mentions of hand jobs, fingering, self tasting, oral sex on fem, being ejaculated on, watching through window, mentions of stealing panties, Price has a little obsession with the reader, mentions of spit, a lot of sweat, use of degrading name e.g 'bitch', Price can't see what he is doing is wrong, mentions of exercise, rough sex, a lot of manhandling, neighbour next door trope

"Need any help with those?" Was what started it all off. Price was in the midst of bringing in groceries after being away for so long due to work in the military. The boot of his car raised as bags of necessities- food, beer, what not- were pretty much trickling out and onto the pavement.

He lived in a local quiet area of town, houses decently sized and kept tidy. Lawns frequently mowed, flowers always grown and planted- such a shame how little sunshine England got because it would look like something out of a movie. John was also acquainted well with a lot of the elderly folk around there, most of them having lived their way before he even moved in.

It was perfect for him, given he was usually a bit of a grumpy bastard, living alone in a neighbourhood like that was a breath of fresh air. His neighbours understood him and kept to themselves but not in the distance unwelcoming way, the respecting kid of way. It made him feel secure- snug like a childhood blanket; warm, safe and familiar.

So it’s not difficult to envision the look on his face when he turned around, catching you exiting the house next door. Body in them tight gym shorts and shirt to match as you practically ran over to him. Fucking hell, what had he missed? He had to blink twice; once to register was going on and a second time to look away because your body was enchanting. Forcefully having to drag his eyes away from the plump curves of your ass- the shape of your thighs- your breasts.

Passing you one of the bags from the car, carrying three himself because- of course he had to show off his own strength and muscle to you. A jolt of arousal electrocuting his body from your skin brushing his hand; cock swelling up erratically and his eyebrows furrowed. Johns head immediately leaping to imagine scenarios with them soft fingers of yours.

Finger tips only just touching as your hand spread around the base of his girthy cock, stroking him slowly, looking into his eyes as you bite your lip nervously, wondering if you were doing a good enough job- if you were pleasing him right. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as the pulse in his cock died down. He couldn't let himself get distracted so easily, come on John, what has gotten into you?

As you helped him unload, you explained how you'd moved in next door a couple months ago, not realising anyone actually lived in his house. Rambling on about how nice all the neighbours seem and how easy it was to settle down. How safe this side of town was but honestly, John didn't care one bit.

He wasn't listening to the words despite him deceiving you with his humming and nodding. He was listening to the sound of your voice instead. The sickeningly sweet tone chirping into his ear so delicately it made his hands tremble. Fingers desperate to reach out and touch you like a child with fire.

He knows it will burn, he knows he cant but its just so pretty- he was losing fucking control, who the hell were you?

He'd imagine all the noises you'd make with him above you, finger fucking you until your words were all broken and tearful. Ripping out of your cunt harshly before forcing the fingers into your mouth. Shuddering at the feel of your tongue tracing laps around them, tasting yourself, doing exactly what he guides you to do.

"Do you taste good?" He'd ask you slowly, breath hitting your face from how close the distance between you is. Voice thick with husk and lust because he couldn't let you realise the power you have over him. How weak you get him at the knees- you could have him a begging mess if you asked.

A scarred yet smooth large hand grabbing you by the cheeks, squishing your adorable face so hard your lips shine with spit. Holding you like that and watching your skin pale when he lets go. Not bothering to actually hear your reply before going down and tasting you for himself.

From such short little interaction, a sick fascination had blossomed inside him. Wrapped in his head, tied in his chest and sunken deep in his stomach- it was more an obsession than a little crush. He'd watch you through his window as you pottered around in your kitchen oblivious to his gaze- it wasn't stalking to watch you all the time, he was just watching your back.

If being in the military taught him one thing it was to be cautious of your surroundings, because you never know what might happen - who could be lurking over you. So all he was doing was looking after you, really.

He knew your routine off by heart, when you would shower, when you would sleep, eat- work: He knew it better than you did yourself. He also knew things about you that you didn't even know. Like how many pairs of underwear you go through in a week.

His large muscular arm counting them as he shuffled through your wash basket being sure to snatch one for himself later, as you hummed innocently in the shower: unaware to his presence. And why your phone kept unplugging during the night when you slept, watching your angry face through the glass as you wake up and curse yourself out because you swore you plugged it in and now you have to wait an extra 20 minutes for your phone to charge up before going for your morning jog.

An extra 20 minutes of pacing in front of your window in your tight gym clothes, getting a few more stretches in because why not- you have the time.

Oh and you definitely didn't know about the faulty lock on your back door, and how when you jiggle it a bit the fucker just opens up with ease. How little effort it was to slip inside and glide around your home, the smell of you saturated into the sofa, the bed, the walls, precum dribbling into the fabric of his boxers. Your house really was yours, everything down to the last detail was just you.

He felt like he couldn't breathe yet breathing heavily was all he could bring himself to do. Lingering in the shadows as his fingers trailed along the kitchen counters, fist wrapping around the pink plastic of your water bottle. Silly silly little girl, you shouldn't have left it home because now he can’t stop himself.

Stood behind your front door, black hoodie blending him in as you stepped inside, panting like a dog- a bitch- from your run. Hair drenched in sweat that trickled down your forehead and neck making your skin look aureate- glowing.

He bit back the moan watching how carelessly and greedily you guzzled down your bottle of water. Oblivious to the fact that your friendly neighbour John had tampered with it, oblivious to the fact he was right fucking there, waiting patiently for the side effects to kick in.

Your back hitting the sofa as your panting settled down, eyes drooping a little and without your knowledge or realisation you were out cold. Knocked out- head flopping back and eyes rolled. Price chuckled, walking to the back of the couch, hand hitting your head before shoving your limp body hard, forward and onto the glass coffee table.

"Bless you, love. Didn't even know I was here, did ya?" He asked you loudly, he wanted to scream it at you and if he didn't care so much about the neighbours hearing him shout, he would've. Sadly he had to be cautious.

He had to make sure that you were fully unaware of everything he was going to do to you, before and after and he wasn't going to risk it- someone was bound to check up on you after hearing shouting even if it’s just a quick question while taking the rubbish out.

His fingers entwined in your hair as he slowly crouched down beside you. Yanking you back up, flipping and positioning your body over on the table like a mannequin. The zipper of his hoodie echoing in the silence of the house and fuck, he was desperate for you.

Undressing his top half and throwing the clothes on the settee before spreading your legs wide open. Wasting no time as he ripped a fat hole in your leggings, pushing your panties to the side through the broken fabric.

Johns mouth watered as his eyes locked on your pussy, so hot and steaming with sweat but he couldn't care less- he had been wanting you for the past month despite it feeling an eternity. He really couldn't give a shit if you were clean or sweaty- shaved or not he was fucking having you right here, and right now.

His blue eyes indulged in your peaceful expression, eyelashes pressed against your puffy cheeks while his tongue licked a long aching strip up from your entrance. Throat closed dry with thirst and his body was shaking with adrenaline, holding back and restraining himself from making a mess of your pussy. Letting himself sink into you and your flavour instead; not like it was going to last long or anything.

Less than one minute in and he was eating you, spitting on you, slapping your tiny sensitive clit. Sucking on you, biting you and getting your juices all caught inside his beard, he swore blind days went by with how long he was down there. Taking his precious time and allowing himself to relax and enjoy your taste but being cautious with his actions because he didn’t want to hurt you.

He didn't want you to feel as if you'd been raped or something horrible. He didn't want you to wake up and feel so sore and achy that you panic someone came in and fucked with you. John wasn't like that- no! He just needed a favour from you and went by it in a way that doesn't cause such a hassle. Saving himself from potential rejection and awkwardness between you too, it was beneficial. He was just borrowing you.

That was neighbours do, yeah? They help each other.

His cock would ram in you so deep his eyes stung from the pleasure he felt. So wet and tight and just for him. Slowly losing touch with the sensible side of him as he picked the pace up. He shouldn't be going that hard, you were definitely going to feel something is off. Going to feel how deep he was inside you when you wake up all lost and confused.

Your clit was going to throb and sting with how much Johns tongue had flicked, sucked and bit it. The more his brain let him know of his mistakes the more he thought, 'fuck it' and let himself be rough. Dragging and moving you around like his personal little sex doll- exactly what you fucking were.

Holding your legs up in the air then switching to your body pressed against his chest, hands squeezing your hips as he pretends your riding him.

"Oh fuck, honey just look at the sight of you. Why don't you come live with me? Why don't you come stay with me next door and I’ll do all this every night." Teeth sinking into your earlobe as his question was left unanswered- he wasn't expecting a response at all but it was an excuse to fuck you harder.

An excuse to rip off your shirt and play with your breasts because you weren’t replying or him and instead was making him angry. Leaving him with no choice but to tease your nipples until he’s about to cum.

Slamming you back down on the table before fisting his cock towering above you. The swollen and desperate tip so red and dripping with precum until finally he grunted and shut his eyes. Showering you in his hot semen watching how the white spurts out and paints your body like his personal canvas.

Palms eagerly massaging the warm cum into your flesh- your stomach, your chest, up on and over neck while he regains his breath and strength. Scooping you up into his arms to carry you up your stairs and into bed, removing everything and tucking you into the sheets- naked. His heart exploded seeing how solemn and innocent you looked all cuddles up, bending down over you to kiss your forehead before leaving.

Discarding the clothes and grabbing his hoodie, making sure to wipe and clean up any juices or evidence of the two of you before leaving out the back and returning home to rest. Missing your soft little murmur as you stirred awake in your bed, confused on how you'd gotten there and where your clothes had disappeared too.

Wincing from the sores on your legs and body and the sticky feeling everywhere as you sat up in bed. A yawn falling from your lips but- oh well.

Must've been from working out earlier.

[milligramspoison]

My time in the fandom has always been post-Bob so I’ve always been somewhat distant from him but this hits hard, in a deeply tragic sort of way. He was very clearly Not A Nice Person, and his last round of twitter meltdowns contained I think some of the nastiest things even he was ever documented saying. Even so it was abundantly clear reading between the lines even when he was being horrendously bigoted that it was all the words of someone who was very isolated, angry, and in a lot of pain. He had clearly fallen to the conservative mind poison and by all accounts was *never* a particularly nice person but I really wish that he had gotten some level of help and had a chance to heal and perhaps grow out of the incredibly dark place he always seemed to be in instead of this. At his worst he was clearly someone carrying a lot of anger inside and he needed to heal from that. Being a person in great pain does not in any way justify or excuse being a nasty, bigoted person but I do think most people who are the cruelest are carrying a lot of anger inside and Bob has always seemed to be one of them. Despite not ever feeling massively personally to him connected I feel rather gutted - not so much because of the man he was but for the person he will never get the chance to be.

It’s a lot to process.

This really is a good way of putting it anon. A lot of people, whether you like him or not, is shocked by this news. No one was expecting to hear that Bob died tonight

[vervainandspritz]

WHEN I TOUCH HER

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy sees Y/N some time after breaking it off, she doesn't seem to notice him.. or does she?

A/N: Interact with the stories you read! It's important. Who wants something more tonight?:)

~~

People surely noticed, looking over curiously as several blinders entered the pub. Not making a ruckus of sort, slipping between other people in the fairly big crowd.

Some joined others by the table, greeting with wide grins those they know so well. Others, like John and Arthur came up to the bar, so much bigger than one in the Garrison. Three barmaids worked behind the counter, skillfully pouring all kinds of alcohol for the men in need. Known well among the people of Birmingham, they didn't have to call over to the working women to get what they came for. One of the barmaids handed over a full bottle of the finest Irish whiskey, receiving a good tip as the younger man left it on the counter, pushing it towards her with a wink.

Y/N, one of the barmaids didn't notice any of the Shelby brothers just yet, focused on the orders and techniques she taught herself so well. Tips were pouring like never before that night, as the rich guests consistently ordered more and more. A woman with such abilities was surely never seen before in any local club around here.

Night seemed to be coming to a head as the crowd slightly dispersed, giving her a much more clear view on the whole, rather massive, room. To say she saw him right away would be a lie, but Y/N could feel an intense gaze on her hands and face as she worked, cleaning up the glasses and wiping the counter down before finally looking up.

The man she avoided for over a month, more or less successfully stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched her from across the room. Despite the fact that this place was bursting at the seams, his gaze didn't falter as he watched her expression change, one much more bitter than the whiskey he held in his right hand.

”Fuck” Y/N sighed under her nose, internally rolling her eyes as she saw in her peripheral vision him slowly approaching.

Not giving him a chance to speak to her, Y/N turned around, wiping all the shelves behind her, keeping herself busy with anything, just so he wouldn't speak up. Involuntarily, the corner of her mouth raised slightly hearing his sigh of annoyance behind her back.

”Y/N” Thomas said, sitting on one of the stools. He wasn't surprised with the way she was acting, not really, knowing the situation he put them in some time ago. ”Y/N” He repeated, a little louder before dropping the glass onto the counter, causing her to huff before finally facing him.

Taking in the sight of him, already sitting by the counter, Y/N realized he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

”What the hell did I do to see you here today, Shelby?” Came out of her mouth as a greeting, her tongue effortlessly sharp as always before she cocked her eyebrow. ”Don't you have whiskey in your own pub?”

Tommy looked at her for a moment, nodding lightly with an amused smile, causing her anger to simmer even harder.

”Came to see what all the noise's about, yeah?” He offered, pushing his empty glass forward, as in a silent order for a fill up. Without missing a beat she turned it upside down, slamming against the wood in front of him.

”Unfortunately we're closing soon. Find your way out, would you?” She said, smiling so nicely in such a fake manner, Tommy internally winced.

Letting out a sigh, he got up from his chair, leaning forward on his arms.

”Don't be like that,” He insisted, looking her in the eyes.

Tommy knew how this... The whole situation looked. Without knowing the details, it was messy and he was an asshole. Like always. When usually it didn't bother him much, Tommy couldn't shake this off. So aware of what was going on in her head about him.

”Like what?” She hissed, unable to hold back the anger she held in her fear for so many days now. ”You made your choice, now don't you dare come around in a state of boredom telling me what to do!” She stated sharply, a little louder than intended which brought the attention of one of her coworkers, Diana.

She came closer, tossing the rag aside as she eyed both Thomas and Y/N, before reaching out to touch her shoulder.

”Everything alright, hun? Is this man bothering you?” She offered, narrowing her eyes without dropping his gaze.

Hearing it, Tommy smirked lightly, highly amused with how... Fitting this environment was to Y/N's combative personality.

Are all of them that feisty?

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair.

”No, Diana, it's fine he's just... A bloody idiot, he is.” She said, glaring at him before adding. ”But he's no threat. I'm fine. Get behind the bar, would you?”

After hearing an affirmative answer, Y/N grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under the counter, walking around it and heading through the door. Tommy stood there for a moment, with his eyebrows raised in surprise. Only when Diana narrowed his eyes at him, contempt clear as day in her eyes, he rolled his own before following after Y/N.

She didn't go far, as a cloud of smoke awaited him right by the entrance, in the slightly darker side of the building. Moving closer Tommy lit his own cigarette, the air around them much different as the scenery changed. The reality heaving on his heart as he saw her hardened face.

”Y/N just let me say something, aye? If after that you decide you can't be arsed to talk to me, I'll leave.” He offered, the previous confidence and cockiness in his voice now gone. A long silence followed the echo of his low, husky tone while Tommy awaited her answer, standing nearby, yet not close enough.

Her hand was super still, eyes blank as she stared ahead for a moment.

”I simply don't understand why you're bothering me now, Shelby. It's been a couple weeks and you're suddenly back like a bloody boomerang.” Y/N made sure her voice was steady and confident as she spoke, knowing that she would be able to read her eyes, so the poor lighting was an advantage she was happily using.

He walked back and fourth a couple steps, smoking the cigarette before throwing it on the ground, stepping on it with the heel of his black, leather shoe.

”Campbell sent her to the Garrison. She came and sang, lied to us lot sayin' she's from Ireland.” Thomas finally spoke up, taking a step forward and keeping just the minimal, necessary distance he knew she needed. His eyes locked on her as best as he could in the dark, feeling her gaze as she hears his words. ”But Polly knew, saw her by the cut with 'im. Wore a hat, thought it would be enough to fool us.” a dry chuckle left his lips. ”After a couple meetings she started spilling, believed I felt the same. Kept talkin' and I needed to have the full view before the races.” The explanation slowly started.. having sense. But not enough to calm her nerves fully.

”No need to explain it all, no it's in the past.” She said, focusing on the black material of his tie, not looking at his face. ”You've had a long time to tell me, hell, to warm me you'd go 'round with a blonde on your arm, but you didn't. Now it's– not important.” Y/N said, involuntarily stuttering by the end of her sentence.

It was all... Hard. Hard on a different level. Before it all came to a head, it was all uncertain as well. He'd come, take her places or fuck her over the counter. He'd tell her things, but never enough to make it special. Keep his arm around her shoulders in the pub but never call her his. Y/N wasn't sure what was happening between them back then, but she liked it. Felt good around the man with blood on his hands and dimples in his cheeks. The casual flings turning into something she held dear to her heart, without trying to make it hard on him with confessions.

...but then she came around, taking all his attention. Leaving Y/N feeling like nothing important, like an underwhelming fuck he'd want to forget about.

Not calling, not talking, not coming to see her.

So she moved past it, and now he was back, suddenly scooting closer and getting ahold of her hands as she finished her cigarette, ripping her out of the dark thoughts.

”He was watching you. Knew about us, I couldn't risk them taking you to jail. Not after Arthur came back barely walking.” His voice was stern, more desperate now as he saw what seemed to be indifference in her eyes. ”Look at me, Y/N” He asked, quieter, and this worked.

It always did when he talked to her gently, using the soft tone he hasn't used with anyone else. So she looked, seeing the sadness in his eyes.

”I'm looking, Thomas. It's a lot.” She admitted, her teeth nipping on her lower lip nervously.

”I know.” He responded, leaning down for a better look on her eyes. ”Today were the races. I was supposed to take her with me so she'd sing all the missing bits into my ear.” Tommy added, his voice growing husky, breathing more ragged.

”Why the hell would you tell me that now?” She asked, frustrated with his weird tactics, jealousy gnawing on her throat. Thomas smiled lightly, not noticeably seeing it.

”Because I didn't take her. Made sure she's gone for good.” Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her eyes meeting his as she searched for the truth. He was honest. Another step closed the distance between them, his firm chest pressing lightly against her own before he leaned forward, caging her between the wall. Calloused fingers gripped her chin, tilting her head up so she wouldn't look away.

Oh, how he missed the way she looked at him. These deep, expressive eyes he grew to yearn after whenever she wasn't around.

”Because when I touched her...” Tommy whispered, moving even closer. His warm breath touching her lips and chin. ”It felt like I was cheating on you.” His forehead came to rest against hers, feeling how she slightly relaxed against his body. ”I couldn't risk putting you in danger just because I so desperately need you around, Miss Y/L/N. You must forgive an old fool, eh?” His low voice slightly muffled, as his lips moved against hers in the incredibly close proximity they found themselves in.

Y/N chuckled, hearing him. The tears in her eyes remain hidden from his watchful gaze only because of the awful lighting by the pub.

”You're awful, Shelby.” She finally breathed out, leaving a small kiss, almost a peck on his lips before pushing her arms beneath his coat, wrapping them around his torso. ”Hug me, Tommy” Y/N asked quietly, touching the terrain they never explored before. The simple intimacy with no sexual undertones.

Surprisingly, Tommy couldn't imagine a better ending to this encounter as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her face into his neck.

Resting his chin on her head, Thomas knew he was the real winner, regardless of the race results.

[bootsukki]

masterlist

warnings: nothing i think............... (i don't know if i hate this tbh)

tsukishima kei loved his niece, he really did, but, she was getting on his nerves. his brother akiteru and sister-in-law had left earlier that week for a work trip, leaving 24-year-old tsukishima kei in charge of his lovely five-year-old niece, hana.

so far, it had been relatively smooth, he took her to school, went to work, picked her up again and drove her home, where he made food (not as good as mum's, as hana said) and spent the afternoon with her, doing homework and playing.

until wednesday, kei's third day with hana

"uncle kei," hana piped up, taking the hair brush from kei's hands and shaking her head "you don't know how to braid hair"

"no."

"why not? mama knows how to."

kei had been trying his best at braiding her hair for the day. she insisted that, on wednesdays, she always wear braids to school and, after what it seemed like a excruciating amount of tutorials, the girl had given up on getting kei to braid it.

"because i've never had to braid someone's hair, hana"

hana frowned, her expression a mix of disbelief and determination.

"but i want it braided."

"i can't braid it, hana."

"then i'm not going to school."

"what?" kei asked, confused. "you are going to school, miss."

"no!" hana screamed "if i can't wear braids, i'm not going!"

"hana, please." kei leaned down, looking at the little girl desd in the eye. "i have to go to work and you have to go to school."

she squinted at him. "miss (y/n) next door knows how to! she always wears pretty braids and she can teach you."

"miss who?" kei knew almost all of his brother's neighbors, but it was the first time he had ever heard of that name.

"she's our new neighbor." hana jumped, grabbing the sleeve of kei's shirt, her insistence (and his need to go to work), leaving him with no choice but to follow the girl out the door.

when they arrived at the neighbouring house, hana knocked on the door and a young woman opened the door, blinking in surprise at the sight of them.

kei nearly choked at the sight of her. she didn't seem older than he was and her hair was up in a ponytail, a smile making its way towards her face at the sight of hana. she was probably the prettiest woman kei had set his eyes on and the fact that she was smiling at him was not helping the heat that was rising to his cheeks.

god, he felt like a teenager.

"hi there, little tsukishima!" she said, voice friendly. "how can i help you?"

"my uncle kei doesn't know how to braid my hair." hana announced bluntly, giving (y/n) the hair brush she had been holding on. "can you do them for me?"

(y/n)'s lips twitched into a smile, looking up at the tall man in front of her. his tall, broad frame nearly filled the doorway and his midly annoyed expression but rosy cheeks only made the situation more amusing. he was pretty handsome. "it's nice to meet you. i'm kinda new to the neighbourhood, my name's (y/n)."

"i'm akiteru's brother, kei."

they stood for just a few seconds, looking at each other, before (y/n) looked at the little girl who had already made her way inside her house.

"and... of course i can braid your hair, pretty."

kei hesitated before stepping into her house. it was an open space, living room and kitchen connected. what really caught his attention was the setup: a camera perched on a tripod, a bowl of... was that whipped cream on the counter next to a banana? no need to say that his mind went somewhere.... completely innapropiate. why did she had a camera like that? why the whipped cream? why the banana?

(y/n) noticed his gaze lingering and quickly cleared her throat, cheeks reddening but before she could explain herself, hana sat in a chair and urged them to get on with the braids.

(y/n) leaned down, busying herself with hana's braids while kei stood awkwardly near the door and once she finished, hana ran to his arms.

"do i look pretty, uncle kei?"

"the prettiest but you need to say thank you quickly because we are going to be late."

"thank you, miss (y/n)!"

"you're welcome, sweetie," she replied smiling. then, turning to kei, she added. "i... uh..."

"thank you for this but we have to go."

"oh... okay. bye"

"bye, miss (y/n)!"

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

(y/n) stood in front of the tsukishima's household, holding a box full of cookies and took a deep breath, making her way towards the door, ringing the doorbell.

kei was finishing up the dinner he had been preparing and when to the door to open it, finding (y/n) holding a neatly wrapped box.

"here," she said, looking down, trying not to look at him in the eyes, completely embarrased. "i... i'm a baker! a really good one and i have a blog and a youtube channel and i always film at home because.... because i love to and yeah... i've been doing this since i was 14 and now, i'm 24 and i don't film myself doing weird stuff with whipped cream! you weren't probably thinking about that but a girl who lives in a big house, had a camera set up and pointing to whipped cream and a banana? haha, it is weird, right? anyway... "she offered the box to him. "yeah, i'm sorry. i ramble a lot when i'm nervous but i am a pretty good baker so, please, take them. although i don’t know if you are the type of man who likes swe-“

kei laughed, hiding his mouth with his hand, shaking his head and she just stopped talking, hoping the ground would open and eat her.

“you do ramble”

“sorry! i… sorry”

kei smiled, taking the box from her hands, opening it, mouth watering at the sight of the freshly baked cookies, an arrangement of different flavors.

“i’ll be honest. i thought you were doing weird stuff.”

“i know.” she sighed. “it has happened before, that's why i moved here, my landlord actually threw me out of my last apartment because people were complaining and thinking that... well, yeah... sometimes brands ask me to film tutorials and they spend a lot of money on them so there has been a whole set up of cameras at home, which doesn’t look good in my neighbors’ eyes.” she looked up, hiding her hands on the pockets of her coat. "i'm rambling again, sorry."

“no, i'm sorry. i'm sorry that happened to you.”

“don’t be.” she smiled and kei reciprocated her smile and she just waved, turning to go back home. "well, see you around, i guess."

before she could make a quick exit, kei grabbed the sleeve of her coat.

“sorry, i…” kei looked at her. “would you like to stay for dinner? hana would love having you for dinner and i… i would like to know more about your weird filming experiences.”

(y/n) smiled, nodding.

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

kei: hey, why don't you take a few extra days to relax?

akiteru: did something happen? is hana okay?

kei: everything’s fine, trust me.

kei: so?

akiteru: yeah, why not? we trust you.

akiteru: btw say hello to lovely (y/n) from us! if she bakes something, keep it on the fridge.

kei: wtf

*akiteru reacted with haha*

akiteru: remember, hana loves gossip, you’re not safe.

*kei reacted with an angry-faced emoji*

[vampiricgf]

˗ˏˋ BARBELL BACKDRAFT ˎˊ˗

lighter lorenz x f reader

wc : <1k

warnings : reader has pierced nipples, inappropriate fantasy, oral sex, cum, spit, mentions of swallowing, pet names (good girl), lmk if I missed anything

this was literally just an excuse to write about him absolutely cranking that thang crazy style (also a backdraft is a flaming shot of liquor I thought I was being clever) lighter nation I present my humble offering <3

He knew he shouldn't be thinking about you like this. You of all people, a fellow member of the gang and someone who (to his knowledge) has never expressed any kind of interest in him that stepped over general familial affection. It doesn't even matter and it doesn't matter how much shame he feels stuck to his skin in the light of day, especially when you give him one of those beaming smiles bounding up to him chatting about who knows what.

All that matters right now is the crystal clear mental image of your nipples through your shirt, the barbells pierced through the flesh perfectly accentuated by the tight fabric. Fuck he'd almost moaned out loud this afternoon catching a glorious eye full of them, and seeing you kick up into a run over towards Piper? It was a game, set, match in less than ten seconds.

He'd had to excuse himself for the rest of the day and all of the evening with a lame lie of sudden allergies. No way he would be able to calm himself down enough to spend any time around you and all the others without rocking a massive erection and that was a topic he would rather die than speak about to a group of chortling girls. As much as he loved all of them, his pride would bear the wound forever.

That's not even touching on the fact that he'd rather cut off and eat his own fingers than admit the cause of this massive problem was your unfairly gorgeous chest and how he felt on the verge of a heart attack knowing they were pierced. Did you do that for yourself or for someone else? If so, who caught your eye and would it be a terrible decision to beat them senseless in the name of usurping that spot in your mind?

Those wanton moans bounced around the room freely now though, his dick throbbing painfully in his hand as he gave it a few languid strokes. Eyes closed it was unfortunately very easy to envision you shirtless; those glorious steel barbells glinting off the weak light in his bedroom like cherries on top of a deliciously pillowy scoop of ice cream. You seem like the type to find being on your knees enjoyable, a thought that should make him feel guilty again but such emotions are powerless in the face of naked lust.

Spit dripped, sloppy and attached to his bottom lip in glistening strands, as his pace picked up and hushed grunts filled the room. Would your hair be as nice as he imagined, if he slid his hand around to the back of your head to keep you still and let him use that perfect mouth of yours to his hearts content?

His eyes squeeze shut so tightly abstract fuzzy shapes flash behind the lids as his breathing stutters, feeling his abdomen and balls tightening up the more he indulges in the fantasy. Fuck you'd be even prettier like that, cheeks all hallowed out as you let him fuck your throat with all he's got.

The throbbing in his dick matches pace with his hand now, furiously stroking up and down so fast it's probably just an ambiguous blur from an outside perspective. Are you the type to spit or swallow? Nah, who cares when his real prize would be painting your tits in milky white streaks, watching it stick to the metal of those nipple piercings... Could he suck it off, flick his tongue around that little bud and make you arch your back, shove them even further into his face?

He bets you sound so sweet when you feel good, his fingers would dip down into your panties (which he already knows you prefer black silk after one day you decided to borrow a skirt from Burnice and unknowingly gave all of Blazewood a to die for view of your ass, much to his delight) and he already knows you'd be a sticky, soaked mess in his lap. Would you be a good girl, pop open those lips and suck his fingers clean for him? Yeah, he bets you would.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

There's just something about you that turns him into the lowest form of pervert, breathlessly beating his dick like it's going out of fashion. But he'd be a liar if he said the adrenaline of how inappropriate these fantasies were wasn't addicting, nearly as addicting as his habit of "keeping an eye on you" (really meaning filing away a variety of moments for later use, like now). He'd trade away honor and pride, all that shit, for just ten minutes alone with you. Ten minutes to have you exactly the way he wants.

As one long groan turns into a harsh through the nose exhale, his pace slows down the more his hand gets coated in spurts of hot, sticky cum. His hips stutter before he's sure he's spent, collapsing backwards from the edge of the mattress to starfish in the center as his breathing slowly evens back out. Olive green eyes remain glued to the ceiling, but all he can truly see in his field of view is you with your tongue out and his cum splashed all over your tits flashing him one of those pretty smiles for giving you all he's got.

He knows this is a problem that isn't gonna go away until it reaches a head, like catching a firm right hook to the jaw. He can only hope he doesn't end up sucker punched if and when he does work up any nerve to test the waters with you.

First thing though is finding out why you got those piercings in the first place because if it was for someone else, well, he's not above an old fashioned duel for your hand. Who knows, maybe you're secretly into that kind of thing.

With an exhausted half smile to himself he shimmies down his jeans the rest of the way, lazily kicking them off before fully crawling into bed. As he tugs down one of the pillows, curling his arms around it and breathing in deeply, he can't help but think about a different sort of fantasy now: how good it would feel to have you right here, one of his old ratty shirts clinging to your skin and smelling just like him.

He'll work up the nerve to get there, in his own way.

[evabby]

POLAR OPPOSITES.

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

SUMMARY : you and abby anderson go to the same college, and are in the same english class — you’re polar opposites who clash at every turn. abby is carefree and confident, whereas you’re more focused and disciplined. when you’re forced to partner up on a project, your rivalry deepens, but an unexpected connection does too. as abby pushes you to loosen up, your dynamic shifts from competitive to something far more complicated.

AUTHOR NOTE : this is my first fic ever written!!! please be nice aaa i hope this is okay<3 also lowercase is intentional :)!

CHAPTER I : BREAKING THE ICE

she didn’t know what it was about you.

maybe it was the way you were always well presented, your hair perfectly straightened or tucked into a neat ponytail, not a strand loose.

maybe it was how driven you were, how focused you could be.

or maybe it was even how your answers were always precise, your hand darting up in front of abby whilst in class to quickly answer a question, yet again.

you were smart— abby knew she was smart too, but hell, it was cute how effortless you made it look.

abby, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. sure, she was smart, but she was loud. she would always comment on anything and everything, and would make sure everyone in class knew just exactly what she was thinking.

she brought energy to the classes discussions, even if she was one-upped by your quiet brilliance.

it was the tiny things,

how you would give abby that small, imperceptible smile when you answered a question she simply didn’t know the answer to,

how you’d subtly let out a quiet sigh when abby interrupted the professor, just enough to make abby feel like she’d done something wrong, but never enough to call her out.

it intrigued her.

abby wasn’t even surprised when professor calloway had set up yet another paired project, as always.

he paced around the room, pointing to each student and telling them who their partner was. you weren’t too worried, thinking you’d be paired with another person who would just make you do all of the work, because you’re ‘smart’, until the finger that was pointed at you was paired with the words ‘abby anderson.’

the room fell into an expectant silence. you swallowed back the annoyance in your throat as you scribbled down in your notebook about the project, feeling abby’s gaze burning a hole into the side of your face.

you knew abby would be a nuisance. you’ve never spoken to her before, but all you heard in each class was her voice. complaining, commenting and just talking all the time.

a grin spread abby’s face as she moved to sit next to you, dragging the stool as she sat down, crossing her arms and tilting her head to look at you next to her.

“guess i’ll get to know you a little better, huh?” abby grinned.

your gaze shifted to her, with no clear expression on it, except a flicker of annoyance that was hard to spot.

“let’s just get this over with.” you mumble.

your first study session with abby was at the library. all of your resources, perfectly organised into each folder, were spread out across the library table. of course, abby showed up late. you didn’t pay much attention to this, you were focused on just getting the project done, even if that meant doing it yourself.

abby walked into the quiet place with a coffee cup in her hand, she spotted you in the far corner, already surrounded by books and notes, scribbling down notes hastily as if you needed to be somewhere.

“late as usual, i see” you mumble, your gaze still on your notes instead of abby as she sits down opposite you.

abby grinned, “just giving you a headstart, so i can y’know, have the satisfaction of getting ahead of you.”

“don’t want you to get too used to winning, do we?”

you stay silent, attempting to seem unbothered as you continue to note down key information. your focus was on the textbook as you calmly turned another page.

abby leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, studying you. her gaze gave you an unsettling feeling low in your stomach.

“so, tell me,” abby said, breaking the silence. “how does it feel to always be the smartest person in the room? must get pretty boring, huh?”

your eyes flickered to meet abby’s, a glimpse of challenge in her gaze.

“i don’t think it’s boring.” you say, “it’s just a matter of doing the work.”

abby smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“oh im sure it is angel, but i can’t help but notice you never seem to have any fun with it. do you even know how to have fun?”

“maybe im just more focused on getting results than playing games.”

abby’s grin widened. she was loving this. “so serious. i bet you’ve never even had a decent prank pulled on you.”

you finally put your pen down, crossing your arms as you stare at abby.

“and i don’t plan on being the subject of one, thanks.”

abby raised an eyebrow. “you sure? you seem like you’d be fun to mess with.”

you narrow your eyes at her. “i doubt that.”

abby hummed, leaning back in her chair to observe all the carefully placed notes dotted over the table as you pick up your pen again, continuing to write down your notes.

this became a routine.

you and abby at the library every day after school, studying together — well, mainly you.

the next few weeks, your study sessions, which had initially been marked by bickering and pointed remarks, began to shift into something different. sometimes it felt like you were even friends.

at first, it was subtle. abby still teased you relentlessly, and you still responded with exasperation, but sometimes you both got along pretty well, despite your clear differences.

small moments that were embedded to your head brought you both closer.

“wait,” abby said, holding up her hand and frowning at her laptop. “are you sure that’s right? i think you missed a step.”

“excuse me?” you glanced up, your pen pausing mid air.

abby turned her laptop towards you, pointing at the screen. “see? if you don’t account for this, the whole thing falls apart.”

you leaned in, your eyes narrowing as you scanned the problem. “huh,” you said after a moment, begrudgingly. “you’re.. right.”

abby smirked , leaning back in her chair. “i know, i’m amazing.”

“you’re impossible is what you are.”

“and yet, here we are,” abby quipped, gesturing to the mess of papers between them.

you shook your head, but didn’t hide the small smile playing at your lips.

another time, you had arrived late to one of your study sessions, your normally immaculate appearance slightly disheveled.

abby raised an eyebrow as you dropped into your chair with a huff.

“rough day?” abby asked, her tone softer than usual.

“you have no idea,” you mutter, your voice quiet as you pull out your laptop. “my professor moved the deadline for our final essay up by a week, and i had to skip lunch to make the adjustments.”

abby frowned, rummaging through her bag before pulling out a granola bar and sliding it across the table.

“what’s this?”

“it’s called a granola bar,” abby said, smirking. “you eat it when you forget to take care of yourself. don’t worry, it won’t bite.”

you rolled your eyes but took the bar, unwrapping it and taking a small bite. “thank you,” you said quietly, your tone soft and genuine.

“don’t mention it,” abby said, her expression softening into a smile.

you found yourself letting your guard down more often around abby. this was something you weren’t used to, you wasn’t sure when it had started, but there were times when abbys teasing didnt geel like an attack — times were it felt almost comforting.

and abby, who had approached their dynamic as a fun game, found herself genuinely looking forward to your time together. your passion for the project, the way your face lit up when you did something right — it was captivating in a way abby hadn’t expected.

one evening, as you were both packing up after a particularly productive session, abby glanced over at you.

“you know, we make a pretty good team.”

you pause, your bag slung over your shoulder. “don’t let it get to your head.” you say, but there was no bite in your voice.

abby grinned. “too late.”

a few weeks later, abby walked in for another one of your study sessions.

she immediately spotted you, immersed in your notes, your hair tied into a neat ponytail. abby couldn’t help but watch for a moment, you had this way about you: serene, focused.

as abby slid into her chair opposite you, you didn’t pay any attention. not even a hello, not even a quick glance. her classic coffee she usually brought sloshed about in the cup as she placed it on the desk.

“you’re not really a studier, are you?” you say, looking at abby.

sure, abby was smart. really smart. but you’d never caught her actually studying with full focus, her intelligence seemed to be natural.

“i prefer to think of it as ‘studying in style’” abby smirks, picking up the coffee cup and taking a long sip, her eye contact with you never breaking.

you look away, back at your notes. “if you mean fiddling around with distractions, then sure, i guess so.” you mumble.

abby chuckled, placing her cup down back onto the desk a bit too forcefully, on top of one of your flashcards.

“i’ll have you know, im very efficient. you could learn a thing or two from me.”

your eyes narrow slightly at her, as you slowly shove her coffee cup towards abby, moving your flashcard to the correct place.

“really? because you seem to think you can get by on distractions and your ‘charm’.”

abby leaned in slightly, adopting an exaggerated, sultry voice.

“oh, i think you’re underestimating me, angel. you wouldn’t want to be too dismissive. who knows? maybe im smarter than you think.”

you stiffen, your eyes flashing with with annoyance. but you didn’t snap back, no. instead, you picked up a notebook, opening it to a page full of neat handwriting.

instead of providing abby an answer she wanted, you carried on writing in your notebook.

“you know,” abby said, casually. “it’s cute.”

you furrow your brows at her, your pen stilled as you look at her in confusion.

“how serious you are about college. all those books.. those notes,” she gestured vaguely at the pile of textbooks and papers in front of you.

“do you even take a break, or are you too busy being the perfect student?”

you look back down at your work, staring at it. you knew abby was only teasing you, but still. abby could see the slight flush on your neck. “i don’t need breaks to get things done.” you replied, your voice tight.

abby leaned back, taking another sip of her coffee before she placed it back on top of your flashcards. you look at her for a moment, knowing what she was trying to do. abby knew she was getting under your skin.

abby pretended to study all of the papers across the table.

“‘m sure it must be nice to be perfect all the time, hm?”

this time, you looked up. your expression was slightly tighter, the kind of expression abby would see from your classroom debates — when you were trying to hide your frustration.

“not perfect,” you mumble, looking back down at your work. “just.. focused. i don’t let distractions get in my way.”

abby raised her eyebrow again, her grin widening.

“distractions, huh?” she took a deliberate pause, leaning in just a little closer. “does that mean i’m a distraction to you?”

your gaze flickered. just for a second, abby saw it — the briefest hint of something in your eyes, something she couldn’t quite place. it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replace by your usual mask.

“i think,” you said, quietly and still looking at your work, gripping onto your pen tightly. “you’re distracting yourself.”

abby leaned back, almost laughing.

“fair enough,” abby said, “already on chapter forty?” abby waved a hand over your notes. “you sure you’re not just trying to impress me with all you’re knowledge? because trust me, it’s working.”

your jaw tightened,

“i don’t need to impress anyone, anderson. i just need to get this project done.”

abby could hear the frustration in your voice, no matter how much you tried your best to hide it. and for some reason, that only made abby more determined to keep pushing. she loved to get a ride out of you, loved the way your jaw would set a little too tightly, your fingers gripping your pen a little too hard.

“you know,” abby said, fiddling with her coffee cup. “i’ve heard it’s hard to concentrate when you’re annoyed. kind of makes you second guess your whole strategy, doesn’t it?”

your eyes flicked to abby,

“im not annoyed.”

“of course you’re not, you’re just perfectly calm and collected whilst you’re seething on the inside.”

you didn’t respond, deciding to close your textbook and go on your laptop. the library was quiet, the soft tapping of your fingers heard on your keyboard. eventually, you were fully focused, your eyebrows furrowed as you typed at lightning speed.

abby’s gaze was fixed on you from opposite the table.

you felt her gaze, and looked up at her.

“what?” you whispered

“i like watching you work.” abby said lazily.

you look back at your laptop, giving her a weird expression. “good. maybe you’ll learn something.”

“ouch,” abby chuckled, unfazed. “i mean it. you’re like a machine. do you ever stop? breathe? blink?”

you sigh sharply, your fingers pausing mid-keystroke.

“what do you want, abby?”

abby leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and tilting her head to the side.

“i just want to know why you’re so terrified of having fun,”

your eyes finally met abby’s, narrowed with irritation.

“i’m not terrified of fun. im just not wasting my time on pointless things when theres actual work to be done.”

abbys lips curved into a sly grin.

“see, thats where we disagree, i think fun is essential. like, its scientifically proven to make you more productive.”

you raise your brow, almost mocking her.

“uh huh.. and which documentary did you pull that from?”

abby shrugged, smiling. “abby andersons tips, tricks and facts. you should try watching it, first tip? there’s a party tonight, and you’re coming with me.”

you stared at abby like she just killed your family. “absolutely not.”

“why not?” abby pressed, leaning closer. “don’t tell me you’ve never been to a party, you’re a college student, not a nun.”

you scoff, returning your attention to your laptop to avoid eye contact with abby.

“i’ve been to parties. they’re loud, crowded, and a complete waste of time.”

“wow, angel.” abby said, feigning shock. “that’s the most boring sentence ive ever heard. what are you, eighty?”

your jaw clenched, your fingers resuming their rapid typing. “some of us actually care about this project, abby. you might wanna try it sometime.”

abby laughed softly, unfazed by your words. “oh, i care. but im also smart enough tto know we’re not going to burn out if we take a couple hours to, y’know, live a little.”

you didnt reply, your focus glued stubbornly to your screen. abby decided to up the ante.

“come on,” she said, “it’s not just any party. it’s the end of semester blowout. music, drinks.. and me, obviously.”

your typing faltered for a half a second before you quickly recovered.

“that’s not exactly selling a point.”

abbys hand meets her chest dramatically, pretending to be hurt.

“you wound me, angel. i thought you liked my company.”

you sighed, finally looking up to glare at abby.

“what part of ‘i’m not going to a party’ do you not understand?”

“the part where you think you have a choice,” abby said, her grin widening once again. “because im not giving up until you say yes.”

you roll your eyes.

“you’re impossible.”

“and you’re stubborn.” abby shot back. leaning in just enough to make you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “but i think you like the challenge.”

your lips parted, your retort on the tip of your tongue, but abby cut you off.

“look, i get it. you’re all about work, work, work. but you’re going to crash and burn if you don’t take a breather once in a while. this isn’t just me being annoying — this is me looking out for you.”

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sincerity in abbys tone.

“im not saying you have to get wasted or dance on tables, okay?” abby continued, “just show up, hang out for an hour and see what happens. if you hate it, ill personally escort you home. deal?”

you frown, your gaze flickering back to your laptop as you weigh your options.

“i don’t even have anything to wear.” you finally said, your voice quieter.

abbys grin returned, victory written all over her face.

”that’s an easy fix. wear anything that doesn’t scream, ‘i’ve been studying for 12 hours straight,’ i’m sure youll look amazing.”

you roll your eyes, but abby didn’t miss the faint pink tinge creeping up your neck.

“this is a terrible idea.” you mutter,

abby hums, standing up and grabbing her bag.

“eight o’clock. don’t be late. i’ll text you the address.”

“i haven’t even agreed yet!” you call after her, but abby was already walking away.

“see you tonight!”

you groan, burying your face in your hands. what have you gotten yourself into?

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

[vampireghostlawyer]

daan's contradictions

One of the aspects of Daan's character that I find the most interesting is how often he contradicts himself throughout the game. Even in some party talks where he doesn't contradict himself, he will act entirely different about a situation depending on who else is present. To a certain extent, all of the characters act slightly differently based on your party makeup, but I think Daan is particularly intriguing because of how much he does this.

Also, he is the catalyst for a lot of the other characters to act differently, such as Karin becoming more obstinate when he's in the party, and both O'saa and Olivia becoming more talkative with him compared to other contestants.

I've seen some people who mistake this for Miro having a lot of different opinions on how Daan should act, or even poor writing, but I think this is definitely more indicative of the strength of Miro's writing. I really feel like this is a conscious choice on the part of Daan's character and I want to try and explain my thoughts about why he acts how he does, as well as provide some examples.

Examples:

1.) In one of Daan's earliest conversations in the game (if Karin is in the party), he will lament his shoes getting ruined and Karin will accuse him of being too prissy to spend time outdoors. She'll point out how he's a city slicker with soft hands and doubts that he'd have the skills to survive on his own. He'll refute her but he'll dodge her questions about being a "city slicker" and his explanations of how he'd survive are either sarcastically bad, or he's genuinely pretending not to know.

In a later party talk, we learn that Daan actually spent the majority of his childhood living in nature before he was taken in by Eihner (or started selling Sylvian services, depending on his backstory).

This makes his answers to Karin, as well as his constant comments throughout the game about how poorly he's handling the Prehevil weather and nature, very strange. If he really did grow up in nature, he should know better than to eat random mushrooms and shouldn't be bothered by things like the smell of lake water or mud, but he still makes a point of acting like he's not used to encountering them.

Additionally, if Olivia is in the party, Daan will actually backtrack on some of his comments about nature and express an interest in it, seemingly just to be nice to her.

2. When standing in the rafters of the church, if Karin is in the party, she'll express a fear of heights, Daan will point it out (in what seems to be a teasing way), and they'll bicker a bit.

Despite this interaction, if you do a party talk in the same area and Karin isn't in your party, it becomes clear that Daan is also afraid of the rafters lmao.

3. When O'saa comments on the bookstore, Daan will act offended and argue with him about the value of books and reading.

When visiting the same store without O'saa, Daan will not express a fondness for reading or share the story about A Tree Grows in Rondon, and will even say he finds books boring.

Despite this, he will once again seem to like books during his party talks in the Mayor's House.

3.) When not playing as Daan, he will tell the player (in a few different interactions) that he either plans to stay on the train, or thinks it's the best option.

He says variations of the above lines with every player character and in a few different dialogue branches. Ironically, he actually doesn't wait around by the train. In fact, Daan is one of three characters who doesn't spawn at all during the morning of Day 1. While some characters (like Olivia) will actually wait by the train, despite Daan's comments, he only ever spawns by the train during that initial interaction (and immediately after), and then doesn't return until he can be found in the shack later that day.

4.) Daan says in one party talk that he prefers being out in open areas because they seem safer, yet when Karin says the same thing, he makes fun of her for it.

5.) In some party talks, Daan will talk openly about sex, however when Abella is present, he becomes much more prudish. One example is in the department store, Daan will make a comment about how the torture victims seem to be screaming in pleasure, and if Levi is present, will agree with him that the torture is consensual.

When Abella is in the group, however, he will instead act disgusted by what he sees. Similarly, when O'saa makes a joke about sex in front of him at the PRHVL Bop, or when Marcoh and him joke about joining an orgy at the museum, Daan will go along with it, but when Abella does the same about the Sylvian statue in town, Daan will stop her.

These are just a few examples, I remember seeing a few more in my first few playthroughs, but these are just the ones that stuck out to me the most.

Analysis:

I think it makes a lot of sense that with Daan's background, he would have to have a lot of skill at appeasing others. In any version of his backstory, he would have had to rely on getting other people to trust or like him, so it's probably something he's developed a skill at. I think that can explain a lot of his random contradictions when interacting with others.

Daan's blank soul also plays a part in this, I believe. In the narrative, both with the Dutches and with Pocketcat, Daan serves as an empty vessel meant to fulfill the whims of someone else, be it Eihner's ritual or the Pocketcat's need for a body. In gameplay, most of his abilities help others at the cost of hurting himself in some way. Daan's life and story revolve around the people he's surrounded by, so it makes sense that his interactions with others would mirror that on a more minor scale.

I also think that a lot of Daan's calmness is a facade meant to trick the player (and other contestants). When we see Daan in a lot of extreme and horrifying scenarios in the game, he is hardly bothered. Attempting to kill Daan, having him inspect his fiancee's body, having him in the party for the fight with stitches or needles, or even amputating all his limbs, still only end with Daan acting almost comically calm for the situation. In contrast, when he undergoes minor annoyances like ruining his shoes or entering the sewers, he reacts very strongly. I think his apathetic personality is a coping mechanism to deal with his past trauma, as well as the trauma of Prehevil, and that his true emotions slip through the cracks of his less important interactions. That's why, when he's talking to Karin or O'saa for example, he is much more emotive and mocking.

Finally, I also think Daan is a bit of a liar. Likely due to the same reasons as needing to please others for safety and survival, he also developed a talent for lying. Throughout the game he is either incredibly secretive, or even sometimes outright lies to the player and other characters whenever he is questioned about his actions, motives, or past.

[victimeyez]

And Not a Drop to Drink

Chapter 25 of Professional//Victim - Masterlist Here

Caius, Tommy, and Sam have a day out.

Whaaaaat? Tommy comfort?? Well, Caius is still Caius, but I hope this helps scratch the comfort itch several folks have requested.

Content warning: Manipulation, intimate whumper, intimate whumpee, panic attacks, brief ableist language, captive whumpee, shock collars, drugging, Caius is weird and gross but Tommy like. Gets it.

The rest of the drive out passed in a drugged haze. Sam kept him so stoned he did little else than drool in the backseat. He’d be released a once or twice a day to stumble bleary-eyed into a gas station bathroom, with Caius keeping him as close as possible without being blindingly obvious. His collar was wrapped in a bandana, but if he stepped an inch out of line, Caius could drop him with the press of a button. Even after all this time, the thought of being shocked made Tommy’s stomach churn. It wasn’t doing much else, between the painkillers and his restricted diet. 

Tommy had been complying as much as possible, trying to prove obedience before he would do what he was planning, but he wasn’t sure if Sam genuinely meant to be overdosing him. He knew it was a three day drive out when they left, but he couldn’t remember what day it was. The time blurred together - drugged in the backseat, drugged and stuffed in the hidden trunk while Caius and Sam enjoyed some attraction on the way, drugged in the back seat again. Pit stop, more pills, motel, a five minute shower. The most excitement he got was a clamshell full of leftovers from wherever they stopped for dinner. They had done dinner - twice? Or three times? He’d gotten a sandwich, but maybe that was a leftover lunch they gave him that time…Was it three days out including the day they left? His brain was turned to slush with the constant medication.

“I think it’s too much for me, I’m feeling sick,” he weakly protested when Sam tried to feed him more pills. 

“I’ll be quiet, I’m being good. Could I just take them a little later, please?” 

Sam might have told him to stop being a little bitch and take the pills - but he was a little more hesitant after the incident at the lab. He and Caius exchanged looks. Caius shrugged, but relented.

“I guess he’s been pretty conked out. He can look out the window for a bit.” 

Tommy breathed out a slow, quiet sigh of relief. Sam looked irritated, but held his tongue for once. 

Maybe he was trying to behave for Caius, too. 

It was nice to be awake for a while, and his head began to clear. He lolled his head against the window, desperate for the sunlight that made it through the tinted windows. Whenever Caius and Sam stopped, he was packed away in the dark while they got to walk in the sunshine. He felt a pang of longing when they pulled into an aquarium Sam had raved about. He looked at all the pictures on the building of fish and penguins and seals doing tricks, trying to memorize them all before he was inevitably put back in the hole. 

Cauis took to the backseat to usher Tommy into the trunk. When he leaned over him to unbuckle his cuffs, Tommy took a risk. 

He leaned in, nuzzling his nose into the soft spot between Caius’s ear. It surprised him enough that he drew back for a moment, giving Tommy a funny look. Tommy leaned in again and kissed his cheek. Little crinkles at the corner of Caius’s eyes appeared when he smiled, but he rolled his eyes. 

“Ooookay, what do you want?”

Tommy smiled shyly, his heart in his throat. He swallowed it down, Caius was still waiting. He was in a good mood though, his voice playful. Tommy could work with that.

“I’d….really like to come to the aquarium with you,” he murmured. Sweetly, like he was confessing to a crush.

“Do you have the tickets on your phone?” Sam called, from his place stretching outside the car. 

“Yeah,” Caius called back. He finished unlocking Tommy’s handcuffs and sat back again. He squinted at him suspiciously, seeming to think. That was good, the fact that he was even considering it. Tommy put on his biggest puppy dog eyes, tucking his head down meekly, playing coy.

“Please, Caius, let me show you I can be good. I’m participating now, I’m all in.”

Caius chewed it over, his eyes drifting to where Tommy’s covered collar hugged his neck. 

No, don’t let him think too much – make him want it.

Tommy leaned in, slowly. Caius let him, curious enough to see what he would do. Tommy nuzzled his neck, right in the crook of his jaw, and traced the tip of his tongue up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe. 

“Let’s have some fun,” he whispered, before pulling back again, giving him a timid grin. Mild, playful. Tease and back off, the dance he had to do to get something from Caius. If he could convince Caius that it was his idea, not Tommy’s, he might get a little something he wants. 

Oh, Caius’s eyes lit up though. Tommy had said just the right words. He felt a little thrill of excitement inside, a prickle of hope he constantly tried to suppress before he could be disappointed. Caius caught his chin, tilting his head back. 

“How could I say no to you?” 

Tommy beamed. Push down the bitter taste. We’re going to see some fucking penguins. 

~

Sam wasn’t enthusiastic about it, but it was happening. Tommy stood at the ticket booth with them, pinching himself when the attendant handed him a ticket. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!

The aquarium gates opened to a wide cement path walkway, where crowds of people were milling around. Kids raced past, an angry dad chasing them into the giftshop. The distinct smell of fries permeated the air from a stand nearby, and other stands lining the path boasted carnival food. Cotton candy, elephant ears, lemonade. Tommy had been in public with Caius a little bit before, but not like this, and it was suddenly too much. Even when they went to the conference, there was no escaping his status at the bottom. Among regular people, pretending to be a regular person, was daunting. Everyone was looking at him, overdressed for the heat with his bandana and vest and long pants. Still limping slightly, his leg twingeing once in a while. 

Can they tell? Can they see the things I’ve done?

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. The sun was bright, tinned music played through speakers, it was a bombardment to his senses and utterly overwhelming. 

“Are you okay?” Caius asked, his arm slithering around Tommy’s shoulders. “Do you need to go back to the car?”

No. Don’t be a spazz, enjoy this. This might be…the only time. The thought made his heart ache, but he nodded.

“I’ll be fine.” He gave Caius a crooked smile, and Caius patted him on the back. 

“Good. Shall we?”

Caius took his hand, either sensing his anxiety or keeping him close. Either way, it was a comfort in a funny way. Tommy squeezed his hand, and Caius squeezed back. 

I can do this. It’s just another role to play.

Tommy settled in better once he started thinking of it as an act, relieved of the pressure to be a genuine human. There were so many distractions that it helped keep his mind off of his sore leg. Among all the other people, he realized how starkly pale he really was, his skin nearly translucent under the sun. Caius ended up buying an extra bottle of sunscreen to give Tommy a generous coat. He also let him pick out a baseball cap, pushing his unruly curls out of the way to put it on him. It was light blue with white embroidery reading CRESLEY COUNTY AQUARIUM with a shark on it. 

“It’s a blacktip reef shark,” he explained to Caius. 

“You know sharks?” Sam asked, but for once he genuinely sounded curious. Tommy nodded, showing him the hat. 

“I mean - I can name a few, that’s all. I read The Shark Lady as a kid and it like, blew my mind.” 

“I was a sharks and dinosaurs kid, maybe a little more into dinosaurs. That’s cool. God, I haven’t thought about that in ages.”

It was strange to have such a friendly exchange with Sam. Caius smiled approvingly at Tommy, and he smiled back, because he felt like smiling.

He smiled a lot while they were there - so much so that his face hurt. He felt an enormous pressure to somehow enjoy himself hard enough that it could last him for a while. Every tank and exhibit filled him with wonder and joy, but his inevitable return to misery breathed down his neck. 

The exhibits indoors were stunning. Tommy stood in a hallway, surrounded on all sides by the biggest viewing tank he’d ever seen. He watched the lazy path of a hammerhead shark cruising overhead from one side of the tank to the next, amazed at the glimpse of the creature's pale belly over the domed hallway ceiling. 

He could watch it for hours - the gentle flow of the ecosystem around him, predators effortlessly mixing with prey. A little loudspeaker on the floor explained they were so well fed, they posed almost no threat to the other inhabitants of the tank. Tommy wanted to take it all in. He imagined swimming through the tank beside a swarm of metallic silver fish that passed by, and felt a familiar pang of longing. He was a strong swimmer. It fell low on the list out of all the things he missed in his new life, but he missed swimming. 

A subtle movement drew his eyes to a large, mossy rock lurking in the bottom. It wasn’t until it extended its webbed feet that he realized he was looking at an enormous turtle. It started to make its way up, exposing its armored underside to the people milling in the hallway with Tommy. One flipper seemed deformed on its right side, and its path careened in an arc to the right. The creature looked befuddled, but quickly distracted as it leveled out and saw through the glass. It was looking right at Tommy, its little face right at eye level.

Tommy was swept up in a sudden ennui, and he gravitated towards the turtle. He felt like it should be a moment in a movie, where he has this one perfect moment where he would make a spiritual connection with the turtle. One that would somehow change the course of his life. An origin story for - turtle man, or some shit. Wait, something about the teenage mutant-

“Sir, step away from the glass,” a droll voice droned. Tommy realized he was pressed to the glass, his splayed hands flanking his nose against the thick aquarium wall. The employee startled him and he violently pulled back, stumbling into Caius. 

“Oh, I’m –  I’m so sorry, I didn’t –”

“Yeah, well we have to clean it, you know.”

Tommy flushed bright red with shame, his heart a wretched machine clamoring inside his chest. Tears sprung in his eyes, overflowing when he tried to blink them away. Caius put a hand over his mouth, pulling him back against his body hard.

“Sorry about that.” Caius stayed cool, but his voice was clipped. The employee, disenchanted in spite of the scene around her, grunted in response and trudged on about her way. 

Caius swept him through the hallway, easy enough to keep from drawing attention, but Tommy could feel the tension. He wanted to look back at his turtle friend, but Caius yanked him along.

On the other side, Caius took a quick look around before making a beeline toward the bathrooms. A mother and her children were exiting the family restroom, and Caius caught the door before it closed, drawing a few odd looks. He pushed Tommy through and shut the door, turning the lock behind him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” Tommy immediately began groveling, but fell silent when Caius raised a hand. 

“You need to get it together, or you’re going back into the car and staying there. Do you understand?” Tommy nodded shakily, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes as quickly as they formed. He didn’t know why he was crying, but the last hours were suddenly crashing down on him. He put one hand over his mouth and layered it with the other, stifling a sob.  

Caius fiddled with his phone, texting Sam to explain their sudden departure. Tommy turned and saw his face, red and blotchy in the mirror. He’d turned his hat around when they came in for the inside exhibits, and he took it off to set it on the counter. He stared at it as a focus point while he tried to calm down his panting, absentmindedly rubbing his arms up and down to soothe himself. He felt Caius’s hand on his shoulder, his other hand stroking his hair back from his sweaty forehead. 

“What’s wrong, little one? Aren’t you having a good time?”

Tommy hiccuped and looked up, meeting Caius’s eyes in the mirror. He looked concerned, genuinely.

“I am,” Tommy told him, and turned to face him, though he kept his eyes downcast. 

“I am having a really - a really wonderful time. Thank you for letting me come.”

Caius cradled his face in his broad hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

The erratic moments of intimacy Caius provided could be so startling - and he could fly into a rage just as fast. Tommy sniffled pathetically and forced his gaze up, giving Caius wide doe eyes. 

Caius suddenly leaned in, holding Tommy in place as he dove down to kiss him. He caught him off guard, his mouth opened slightly in surprise, and Caius pressed his lips to his urgently. Tommy made a small sound of surprise that Caius stole, licking into his mouth. Tommy went weak, bewildered by the abrupt shift. 

Just stay still and let it happen. Caius had whispered that to him before, and he obeyed now, limp in his crushing embrace. Caius pulled back after a few moments, keeping his hold on his face while he licked long, slow stripes up Tommy’s cheeks. He lapped the tears away, his warm tongue leaving cool paths in their wake. 

The odd change of pace had actually startled Tommy out of his fit, and his panting slowed, the grooming calming him. He knew objectively was strange, but he was in tune with his master. Caius was comforting him in his own way - not a man lapping up his tears, but a mother cat grooming her young. Their bond was tangible, in these moments when they just connected. Tommy could do it sometimes with clients, but with Caius, it felt all-consuming. He pulled back and they met eyes, an understanding passing between them.

“Better?”

Tommy felt a little dizzy, wrapped up in Caius’s feelings, unsure of his own. 

“Yes, Caius,” He murmured back, his eyes lowering. A sharp knock at the door broke the tension, and Caius pulled away to check his phone. Tommy splashed some cold water on his face to quell the red around his eyes. Caius opened the bathroom door to Sam standing outside. 

“Y’all good?”

~

They toured the rest of the aquarium without further incident. Tommy was hard to get away from the touch tank exhibit, delighted by the stingrays that sucked toothlessly at his hands. 

“Their tails are clipped so they can’t sting you, but it doesn’t hurt them. It’s just like trimming nails,” an attending employee told him. She had lots of orange hair and a nice smile.

“That’s so cool, do you do that?”

“Oh, well, no,” she seemed a little sheepish to admit. 

“Still, that’s - that’s really cool, that you work here. They’re really…great.” Tommy cringed a little at his lame conversation, but she smiled again, and he smiled back. He gave her a little wave when Sam pulled him away, and she waved, too. He felt a squeeze in his chest.

I made a friend. 

Caius bought him a lemonade and fed him some boardwalk fries from his late lunch. The fried food and sugary lemonade made him feel a little sick, but he was starving after smelling it again and again over the last couple of hours.

It was hard to leave when it was time to go, but Tommy was admittedly worn out after walking so much. He hadn’t had that much sunlight in - years, really. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much exercise, either, and he was fading fast. His exhaustion made him docile, and he slumped against the car window while he was locked back into his seat. Sam didn’t have to drug him - he quickly fell asleep.

~

~

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

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@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

Thank you all so much for reading!!!

[lilmarshie]

A Chance Encounter | B. Barnes x Reader

Entangled Fates, Chapter One

A Victorian Era AU

Y/N - your name

Bucky, a young aristocrat, attends a prestigious ball, feeling out of place among the opulence and superficiality. The lace and opulence was far too much for his liking. He wanted to spend more time outdoors in his element rather than holed up inside attending a party.

Y/N, a brilliant but underprivileged scholar, manages to secure an invitation to the ball through a benefactor, hoping to make important connections for your future. This was going to be monumental for your future career and you were very fortunate to be able to attend such a prestigious gathering.

You arrived promptly at 7pm on the dot, dressed in a beautiful maroon and navy dress, that sparkled ever so slightly in the dim light of the building. The ball was being held in a sprawling home on a few acres. It had a tall, pitched roof featuring brickwork and decorative tiled hallways throughout the home. The home also boasted massive ornate fireplaces in every room, a beautiful front porch, and gorgeous stained glass windows. A butler, was there to greet you at the door, ushering you into the grand foyer and over to two massive doors that led into a lavish but cozy ballroom. There were sprawls of people standing in what seemed to be every corner of the room. Mingling amongst each other, while servants catered to the whims of the partygoers.

Amidst the crowd, you locked eyes with a man who had dark chocolate brown hair which was neatly slicked back. He was dressed in a meticulously pressed dark gray suit that accentuated his features. You locked eyes briefly with this man before turning away embarrassment visible on your face. You knew that you didn’t fit in here but you needed to do this for the sake of your future.

You went to go and grab a place of pastries and a cup of tea to keep your mind occupied. “I don’t need to get involved in whatever this man does. He may be strikingly good looking but I can’t get involved.” You think, as you wander off to a nearby table, the plate in your hands filled to the brim with the delicious treats. You noticed that this man kept his eyes on you the entire time. He began to make his way over to you. “Ahem.” The man says, as you swallow a bite of one of the pastries. “I wanted to introduce myself. I haven’t seen you around before. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.” He says, with a huge grin. His hand was extended to shake hands with yours. You reach over the table and shake his hand with a smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.” You say, as you shake his hand warmly.

“How are you enjoying everything?” Bucky asks, his hands now clasped in his lap as he watches you intently. “It’s been very nice to be invited here. I never thought I would ever be able to attend an event such as this.” You say, with a wistful sigh. “This is honestly a dream come true. I am but a simple scholar and I have dreamed of a moment such as this.” You say, as you drink a sip of tea that was swiftly brought to you by one of the many attentive servants. “I’m very glad to hear that, y/n.” Bucky says, as he takes a sip of tea as well. His brown eyes twinkling in the low light. He was contemplating whether or not to tell you why he was there before clearing his throat softly.

“How about we step outside to continue our conversation? I’m quite enjoying myself here with you. And I’d love to get to know you better.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his cup of tea before standing up and extending his arm out towards yours. Nodding, you link arms with Bucky’s and make your way outside, into the cold London air. Bucky leads you out into the porch and you sit next to him on one of the benches outside. The dim oil lamps faintly lighting up the space between you.

Over the next couple of hours, Bucky shares with you his thoughts about what’s going on with society, his dreams about the future, and business opportunities that he has awaiting him. You mention that your benefactor has secured the invitation for the ball tonight as well as helped you become the scholar that you are today. Without them, you confessed, you would be in a far worse situation.

As the evening draws to a close, Bucky makes a promise to meet again, with you, at a later date. He takes down your address and with a kiss to your hand, and once more to your cheek, promises to write to you soon. Before disappearing back inside to the swarms of partygoers.

You were eager to meetup with Bucky again however that meeting would occur. James Buchanan Barnes has captivated you in ways that you never imagined. And you were awaiting that moment with anticipation.

Little did you know, that Bucky went home that night happier and hopeful, than he’s ever been.

[loweffortopinions]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Play Time: 70 hours and going because I like to hurt myself?

Platform: EA Pro Play 

Rating: 4/10

(Moved this Review from my other account because I can't mix art and text)

Environments 

I had a few oh, that’s pretty moments, but overall I found it hard to feel immersed. The cities are nice I guess and detailed, but they lack distinct, memorable qualities. 

A city like Minrathous has the potential to be an exciting showcase of magic woven into everyday life. Mages using spells to transport goods or to perform mundane tasks. I was also looking forward to see a clear divide between magic users and non-magic users, as previous games have implied that Minrathous is Ferelden in reverse. Instead, NPCs feel static, and there is nothing new or interesting done with the magic. For a place built up as legendary in previous games... Minrathous just doesn't deliver. Further, you only get to explore one district, so there is no contrast between richer and poorer areas. And Treviso? It's pretty... but I mostly remember pointy roofs and ziplines.

Character Design

Faces and hair are a big step up from previous games, and armors are varied and nice to look at. But it comes at the cost that it feels overdone, leaning into flashy, cartoony territory. I ran around in my starting armor for half the game because nothing really fit my character.

The companions suffer from this too to some extent. Darin’s open-chested armor seems impractical for a warrior, Neve, supposedly from Docktown, looks more like an aristocrat from Orlais than her background suggests. Bellara’s design is fine, but aside from her vallaslin, she doesn’t seem particularly Dalish. Emmerich and Harding look fine, especially in their camp outfits, which I prefer for most characters.

Combat and Gameplay 

I’ll be honest—I eventually turned the difficulty down to story mode just to get through the game. The combat didn’t do it for me: repetitive enemy hordes that seem randomly placed, limited abilities, and dodging and rolling mechanics that don’t feel very engaging.

Aside from a few setpieces and two boss fights, no encounter stood out. It’s not a particularly hard game, it just got tedious after a few hours.

Another complaint is that every class now feels overly magical. Since the lore around magic is such a key part of the series, this really rubbed me the wrong way. 

Story and World-Building 

Starting with the biggest issue: Veilguard’s main story is a weak.

In Inquisition, even if Corypheus wasn’t the most compelling villain, there was still a sense of growth as you built up your organization and connected with companions. In Veilguard, it feels like they stripped away what worked in previous games and just kept Corypheus. And the worst part? I miss Corypheus. At least he had a booming voice and some interesting lines. Veilguard has none of that.

The villains in this… honestly, where to start? Rather than feeling meaningful, they’re just names repeated so often it feels like the game worries I’ll forget them. Villains aside events unfold without much connection, leaving me questioning why things happen the way they do.

Why are we choosing these allies?

Why am I stuck doing busy work for them while the world is supposedly ending?

But who cares! It's not like your allies really matter. Rook is a one-man army after all. If we’d had them instead of the Hero of Ferelden, the Blight would’ve ended in Ostagar—and every named NPC would’ve survived, including whoever slay the Archdemon. 

Character and Companion Dynamics 

While presented as experts, they rarely get the chance to demonstrate their skills. Harding sometimes provides useful contacts, and Emmerich occasionally shows his abilities, but beyond that, companions often feel like tropes with minimal growth or depth.

For instance, one character is the “unwilling father,” but we never see him grapple with it genuinely—he just says it. Others are similarly shallow: the socially awkward “nerd,” the “noir detective” with a heavy burden, and the “tortured assassin” who doesn’t seem all that tortured. Insights rarely go deeper than quirks, like loving coffee or fish, which get mentioned repeatedly without further development. 

Previous games built strong, opinionated characters who added depth to the world, but here, companions are lacking. Banter is shallow, with little conflict or chemistry. I’ve never played a Dragon Age game where I wanted to skip side quests or companion quests, yet here, I actually did.

I honestly prefer Andromedas cast over this on. Never thought I'd say that but here we are.

Main Character and Roleplaying

Rook’s voice actor; I love em'... which only makes the limited dialogue options more frustrating. I tried to play Rook as a practical, no-nonsense character, but the writing kept steering me back to a softer, more agreeable tone.

If you’re aiming for a tougher or more forceful personality, you're out of luck. If you plan to play be prepared for Rook to come across as a diplomat. Further, you are forced to agree with everyone, and never get to question them or their motives.

So... maybe don't get this if you're into Baldurs Gate 3 and player agency?

Ending Words 

If you’re like me, and the highlights of previous games have been the banter, character depth, and exploring the world and lore, you’ll likely be disappointed. Honestly, I’d even recommend skipping it. Then again, I've seen people say the opposite. So what do I know?

No matter what you do, I’d suggest waiting for a sale. It’s not worth the full price. 

Extra shit

Combat and Gameplay 

There’s the matter of the quest marker, which gives you tunnel vision which distract you from the enviorments.

The loot feels out of place due to its flashy animation. I started skipping loot in certain areas because it felt inappropriate and slowed down the pacing.

You'll fast travel a lot. And I don't mean in a big open area. It's more of a design flaw: Fast Travel to the Lighthouse to talk to a companion. Fast travel to a location to start that companion's quest, walk to said spot to start the quest. Repeat 5 times.

Story and World-Building 

The ending to its credit, was nicely paced and visually strong. If the rest of the game had been more like that, it would’ve been a decent experience. 

The Shadow Dragons, the Crows, the Wardens—all these factions make sense to be here but do nothing meaningful for the story or the worldbuilding.

Even dramatic scenes lack memorable moments. For example, there is a prison escape that's visually pretty but otherwise lacks substance. The person you rescue has supposedly been there a year, but nothing about their appearance or behavior reflects this. There’s no memorable dialogue, nothing deeper—it’s all surface-level.

I personally think Bioware are cowards for only letting you side with an anti-slave organisation. Come on: This isn't the Teviner you've built towards for 3 games! *shakes fist*

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I’d like to know what your thoughts are on the ramp to the entrance to Collège Françoise Dupont that was built between Seasons 2 and 3.

Remember, from “Heroes’ Day - Part 1”

ALYA: Last year, I wrote an article about equipping public buildings with disabled access. But after seeing Ladybug and Cat Noir going that extra mile every single day, I decided that I, too, can do better. So I got the mayor’s approval to improve facilties so that handicapped kids can actually attend our school.

The stairs from “Origins” to “Heroes’ Day - Part 2”

The stairs in “Chameleon” and onwards

On paper, this is nice. A piece of worldbuilding on par with the akuma alerts like the one in “Riposte”.

However, there are three problems with this:

No one I’ve seen react to the show has noticed or remembered this, since the handicap accessibility is just a throwaway line from Alya that we don’t actually get to see being built.

We know how badly representation is presented in this show, so it’s not like this is getting any brownie points from me.

How the heck is a handicapped student supposed to get up a ramp that steep?

Collège Françoise Dupont's design is based off of Lycée Carnot, a real Parisian school, so I looked to see how the real school handled this issue. After looking at pictures of the school on Google, those steps seem to be a show-only addition. Which is interesting because the show tends to just copy the locations that inspired it. Now I'm wondering if those steps were inspired by something else?

Either way, it's hard to be too critical of the ramp's appearance without knowing the full story. While I fully agree that this is not a functional ramp, we do have to remember that there is a real-world cost associated with adding the ramp to the show. Someone has to design it and add it to the model, so I understand why they did it cheaply. Redesigning the steps into something more elegant and truly functional would have been ideal, but probably impossible to justify budget-wise since it's just a minor visual element. Same goes for animating someone putting in the ramp, which would be even more expensive. I'm honestly surprised that they added the ramp at all!

Now, does that mean that they should be praised for taking the time to put in a slap-dash ramp while never actually acknowledging or using it? No. To me, this feels like a lesser version of their choice to make Marinette a fashion designer while working in a medium that rarely allows her to design anything or even just change her outfit because, once again, budget! Before adding something to your script, you really should think through whether or not you can execute it properly. If you can't, then maybe pick a different path?

To be fair, it's possible that they didn't realize how bad the ramp would look until it was time to animate it. At that point, there's not really a great way to fix the problem. Do you leave the steps as-is even though you've explicitly drawn attention to the accessibility issue or do you be technically faithful to what you promised and put in a non-functional ramp? I don't know. I'm leaning toward "just don't add it," but neither choice is great.

It's even possible they may have only seen the ramp after it was too far in the animation process to revert back to the steps. With most or all of the animation being done out of house (I'm not actually clear on what if anything was done in house prior to season six), they almost certainly weren't seeing every step of the process or having daily reviews of what things were looking like, allowing for detailed input. How much input did they have? No idea! They absolutely got to review story boards or possibly even make them, but between the story board and the final 3D product? No idea.

I looked online for a general guide of the steps involved in working with an outside animation studio and this one generally matches what I know of the process if you want a high-level idea of how this can go and why redoing things may be no small request even if the models already exist. Once a scene is rendered, you have to completely rerender it to make any changes and that's pricey! Sometimes you just have to take a lesser quality product and go with it.

In summary, without knowing more details about what happened here, I don't feel fair being super critical of this, but it's certainly not getting any praise from me.

[softdrabbles]

daxton's life had been turned upside down and they still weren't sure that it had caught up with them fully. they'd been so busy with work and carmen to fully understand the magnitude of their decision to stay, the repercussions of it all. they'd been alone for so long, something that now may be an adjustment for them. deep down they worried that the stability would be too unsettling but they wanted to make this work, they needed it to. "you're my first and only customer so far, so yeah, i guess i do." carmen's grin was contagious as daxton's smile grew wide on their features. "he's been teaching me tons of stuff and he doesn't get frustrated with me when i mess up which is nice too." it seemed that carmen had a lot to do with the elderly couple which meant maybe they'd be seeing a lot more of her. "they've done so much for me already."

at carmen's suggestion, daxton's head shot up to look at her, relief expressed all over their face. "are you sure? i don't want to put you out if you had things to do." they needed her help and carmen knew it, just another reason they loved her so much, the woman would never let them struggle if she could help it. "i do really love hanging out with you.." daxton's eyes followed her as she placed the basket down, making her way towards them at the truck, a cheeky smile playing on their lips as she came up close to them. their overalls hung around their waist, their white tank top dirtied from brushing up against the boxes. they leaned back against the tailgate, eyes set on her face, "yeah? is that because you get to see me all dirty and sweaty in my tank tops? my arms on full display for you?" daxton leaned into her hand, their arms wrapping around her body pulling carmen closer into them, "maybe you should stop by the farm more, see me in my natural habitat." leaning down they closed the distance between them, kissing her hungrily, forgetting for a moment where they were as the world around them faded away. "your skater boy grew up," they whispered against her lips before kissing her again, pulling her completely against her body. the sound of someone clearing their throat waiting to be served broke them apart, "fuck - i mean, shit - i am sorry, what can i get for you?"

balancing hanging out with daxton more frequently and getting the third degree from ashton was a lot easier than she thought it would be. she still understood that ashton was looking out for her and didn't want her to regress if daxton decided that this wasn't the life they wanted anymore. deep down, carmen was preparing herself for that but it was so in the back of her mind that she hardly ever thought about it. she couldn't help but to giggle at daxton's words. " is that how you greet all your customers? telling them how fucking beautiful they are?" they teased, grinning. " ah yes james mcckay, the man you are. i love him and his wife. they always stop by the bakery after hours to pick up any leftovers we have. sometimes they drop by to give me produce. they are truly the sweetest people." knowing that handling a stand by themselves wasn't in daxton's best interest hence when it came to the bakery, daxton was either in the back or bussing tables for less social interaction. " let me help you out here, yeah? i know it can be pretty hectic and busy during these times. besides, not only are four hands better than one we get to hang out more yeah?" she flashed them a smile. carmen set her basket down on the side of table and walked around it to help daxton set up the stand. " you know, i didn't pit you one to be a farmer..." she brushed her fingers along the fabric of the overralls they were wearing. "... but im kinda digging the look." she reached her hand up to place against daxton's cheek, caressing it lightly. " more than that skater-boy attire actually. i mean that was hot too but this one? yeah, i like farmer daxton."

[creepyclothdoll]

I set Angel Free

All of this is gonna sound pretty mean but let me preface this by saying that this girl, Angel, thought she was God’s gift. And I mean that in the most literal sense. Like she’d literally introduce herself by saying, 

“My name is Angel, because I’m a gift from Heaven.”

She’d say it with this smile that was so fake and sickly-sweet you could taste your teeth rotting just looking at it. All her mannerisms were stolen from disney movies, like how she’d talk in this high-pitched little girl voice that she thought made her seem so cute. Like, yeah, yeah, you’re supposed to be nice to people like that, but it was so hard to tolerate her. 

So we messed with her. It wasn’t because she was in a wheelchair, I wanna make that clear. I don’t have a problem with people in wheelchairs. Just Angel. You’d feel the same way if you knew her. Honestly everyone did. 

She literally didn’t know where babies came from. Like one time my friends were joking about having Nick Jonas’s babies and Angel was like “how would you make the baby his?” And we had to literally explain to her where babies come from and ask where she thought they came from. She said, and I quote,

“When a mommy makes a very special wish, and gives it a special kiss and sends it to God, God cuts a piece of Heaven in the shape of a baby and wraps it in the wish and sends it back to the mommy, to grow up and be loved and kept safe on the earth forever.”

This was, by far, the stupidest thing I ever heard in my entire life. So of course I responded by telling her her mommy was lying to her, most likely because she was a whore. 

This made everyone at lunch laugh really hard because her mom, Ms CJ, was the school’s frumpiest old cat lady, and she literally had those 80’s coke-bottle glasses like that guy from Trailer Park Boys and the idea of her getting sexed up for dollar bills was enough to make you piss yourself laughing. 

Angel started crying and doing that annoying pouting thing. Frankly I doubt she even knew what a whore was, just that it was bad. I think she wanted to storm off, but it’s not like she could go very far. Which I pointed out as well, to uproarious laughter. 

Okay again, I don’t have an issue with people in wheelchairs. It was just really easy to mess with her. But this was the incident that, for some reason, made everyone think of me as the Designated Angel Watchman. Like, any time Angel did anything weird and cringey, everyone would look at me like they were Jim from the Office and I was the camera. And then if I didn’t say something funny about it, they’d get all disappointed. But when I did say something funny, it became the new Angel Thing Of The Week that everyone would be saying in the halls between classes, and I’d feel like a genius. Did it go too far sometimes? Sure. But that’s not my fault. All Angel ever had to do was act like a normal person for once and it all would have stopped. 

Angel was homeschooled her whole life until seventh grade, which is probably why she was so weird. 

I wanna be clear– she wasn’t like, mentally disabled or anything like that. That would make me look pretty bad. She was just weird. She was always singing by herself– pop songs, disney princess songs, sometimes songs in japanese from anime. She was convinced she had the best voice in the class, and flaunted it all the time like she thought we were gonna be impressed. She wore these huge ugly cat sweaters with glitter and frills every single day. 

And any time we watched a movie in class, she’d laugh this awful snickering long laugh at ANY joke and then bawl her goddamn eyes out if there was even a little bit of a sad part. It was so annoying!

She refused to do anything outside her comfort zone– no scary stories, no new foods, no games she’d never played before. She turned her nose up at anything unfamiliar.

So let me be clear: Angel deserved most of what we did to her. 

But she didn’t deserve what I did that last day.

Before I met Angel, I thought Ms CJ was okay. After, though, I realized she was batshit. She only let Angel come to our school for seventh grade because she knew she’d be Angel’s homeroom teacher and that she’d be able to flit in and coddle her throughout the day. Ms CJ was Angel’s constant guardian, which should be humiliating for anyone who has shame, but Angel loved the attention. She’d beg Ms CJ to stay with her longer every time she popped in during class. And that sucked, because I couldn’t say shit about anything cringe Angel did when Ms CJ was around, so I missed a lot of really good opportunities to mess with her. 

Ms CJ always sat with her daughter at lunch, which was honestly bad parenting because there was no way Angel would ever be able to make any friends like that. Ms CJ never let Angel join the rest of us for recess. Or for field trips. Once during a group project in French class, as a joke, I invited Angel to a made-up party in the woods. Angel replied by saying,

“I can’t go if it’s in the woods, silly! My mommy doesn’t let me outside!”

She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world for her, so I asked some clarifying questions. She explained, in her girly sing-song voice, that she’s not ever allowed to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time, and only when her mommy is there to hold her hand. 

“My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost,” she said.

“It’s not like you can run away,” I joked.

“I can run,” Angel replied, pouting. “Look.” She kicked her legs slightly. I heard the clack of chains. 

That was the first time I ever noticed that Angel was shackled around her ankles. 

“I run all the time at home,” Angel bragged. “I run alllll over, over all the rooms. I wish I could run here too, but it’s too dangerous. The windows,” she added, like that would clarify it. I was baffled. So she didn’t even need the wheelchair.

“Um, why are you chained? Are you like, under house arrest or something?” I asked.

“No. My mommy just doesn’t want me to get lost. She’s the only one with the key.”

“Your mommy sounds like a psycho. You should call the cops,” I replied.

The French teacher overheard her crying and she got me sent to the principal’s office again. But I swear this time I wasn’t being smart or anything, I was genuinely freaked out for her. I told my friends, who all agreed with me that it was weird. But I guess I hadn’t been the first one to notice the chains. The others who had assumed it was because Angel was like, prone to fits or something. That made sense for Angel, but it still made me feel weird and didn’t sit right.

My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost.

I started to feel sorry for her. She was still weird and annoying, but she was weird and annoying because her mom was out of her mind and wouldn’t let her be a normal kid. How was she supposed to learn to be normal if she couldn’t even go outside, for god’s sake? 

I still messed with Angel when she did weird stuff like quote anime characters in class and bring stuffed animals to school. But if it was ever just her and me, I was nice to her and asked her stuff about her life. 

Her favorite movie was The Little Mermaid. No, she had never been to summer camp. Her favorite time of the week was church. She disliked onions and wanted to be a vegetarian except that her mom was very insistent about her getting enough protein in her diet. She loved those Warrior cat books and wanted to be a veterinarian someday. She didn’t have a dad. Ms CJ took the shackles off her ankles only once they were inside their house and all the doors and windows were closed and locked. That was also when Ms CJ took the locked metal bar off of her chair so she could get up. The bar went over her waist and prevented her from standing. She wore those big ugly cat sweaters every day so we wouldn’t see it. Her mom didn’t want people to know about her special condition, which, as far as I could tell, was all made-up. Any time I asked about her “condition,” she’d just say some stuff about being a very special heaven baby or whatever.

“Do you ever think about running away?” I asked finally. “Why don’t you just… leave?”

She looked shocked.

“Of course not!” she said. “I love my mommy. Where would I even go?” She shuddered visibly. 

The shudder pissed me off. I blew up at her and called her a whiny scaredy baby until she cried, and I got sent to the principal again. 

 She didn’t even want to be normal. That’s what pissed me off the most. 

It was springtime, and the snow was finally mostly gone. I’d been in Mr Bevends’ science class before, so I knew what to expect that day– first real nice day of spring was always a “class outside” day. We’d go out and look at moss and leaf buds and stuff and he’d talk about natural changes during the season. It was all a big excuse for us to get outside– no one liked it more than Mr Bevends himself. He was so excited to announce we were taking class outside, he didn’t even notice Angel’s face go stark white as he led the rest of the class out the doors.

“I– I can’t–” she stuttered, but I interrupted her.

“It’s the most beautiful day in months,” I said. “It’s a perfect day. You’ll love it.”

“I’m not allowed,” she whispered, embarrassed. 

“You wanna be a baby forever?” I said. “Come on. You’ve never broken a single rule in your life. Live a little.”

After a long moment, Angel nodded. She followed me out the back doors of the school, onto the sidewalk. I walked next to her for awhile. She looked scared, but also fascinated by the dripping icicles from the roof gutter above us, and the ice-blue sky above, and the rows of black trees stretching up into the air. 

“It’s cold,” she said. 

“Yeah, that happens when you’re outside for more than a few seconds.”

“I think… I like the cold.”

We caught up to the rest of the science class, and listened to Mr Bevends talk about leaves and crap. Angel oscilated between this vibrating excitement and a frightened, hunted look, like her mom was gonna show up at any second and punish her for disobeying and doing one normal thing in her life. Angel touched the trees reverently. My friends made fun of her for “fondling the foliage.” I didn’t join in this time. I had bigger things planned.

When we broke off into groups of two, I went with Angel. My friends knew I was up to something great then, so they followed us, chuckling eagerly. I grinned back at them when Angel wasn’t looking.

We were supposed to identify different types of trees in the woods behind the school. I helped push Angel’s chair up the hill– it was insanely heavy. The wheels snagged on the muddy grass, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like she actually needed the thing.

“What are you doing?” Angel asked with rising terror as I leaned over her and produced the key. 

Everyone knew Mr Bevends always had class outside the first nice day of spring. It was really easy to slip the key from Ms CJ’s lanyard when she always left it out on her desk during homeroom. It was the one with little white wings on the chain. 

“I’m setting you free,” I said. I unlocked the shackles around her feet first, then the bar around her waist. She screamed at me to stop the entire time, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Someone had to teach her to be independent. Someone had to throw her out of her comfort zone. 

And that’s what I did. I set Angel free.

Angel rose from the chair. 

And rose. And rose.

Her shoes went over her head. She kicked her legs wildly as they drifted rapidly upwards. Angel shrieked and tried to grab onto the top of the chair– the handles, even trying to clutch a handful of my hair– desperate to stay anchored to the ground. But it was too late. She was already six feet in the air. 

Then twelve. 

Then thirty.

I couldn’t do anything other than watch on in shock as Angel shot up into the sky like a helium balloon. She twisted and clawed at the open air. 

It happened in seconds. One second, we were watching Angel make frantic grabbing motions at the ground, howling with terror, and the next second all we could see of her was the glint of the sunlight on her glittery pink cat sweater as she disappeared up into the vast emptiness above.

When Mr Bevends came to see what was the matter, all any of us could do was to point up. But by then, she was just a pinprick against the deep, endless blue sky. 

Then there was nothing.

[oldtvandcomics]

One quarter of the year 2023 gone. So far, I’ve read:

-) 3 nonfiction books (Handbook of Medieval Sexuality; By Your Side - The First 100 Years of Yuri Anime and Manga; Clothes Make the Man - Female Crossdressing in Medieval Europe)

-) 1 piece of classic literature (Roman de Silence)

-) 2 novels (Transistor; Consecrated Ground)

-) 0 novellas

-) 0 short story collections

-) 1 comic book (Dracula vs King Arthur)