#Getting thumbnails Is hard ok

[parsapuff]

Time to post a bunch of wips <3

We got Sundayyy babyyy

Kirara hair accs for her maxis match hair and paws <3

Blade/Yingxing hair and Jane

Mavuika maxis match hair and outfit (That I will be gatekeeping forever /j......unless?) This Is one of the most annoying things I've done fr fr

Mona maxis match hair tied and untied + both outfits (currently has a weird thing going on with her hands and I'm crying)

Someone help her

This Ororon hair I made thats pretty cute heheeh (Old pic looks a bit different)

These two I've shown before

Reca full set plus maxis match hair

Luocha maxis match hair

Watchmaker that I'll post I swear his hair Is missing a thumbnail that's all

Bunch of Penacony furniture that I made cause I was Insane

That's about everythinggg hope you all enjoy <3

[hyewka]

i need jealous possessive subby gyu😭😭 like omg need him so toxic, needy, and clingy🙂‍↕️

warnings: a bit toxic, clingy and needy sub but whats new :P

irrationally jealous!beomgyu that cant even stand you going out with friends without blowing up your phone, trying to put a balm on his growing anxiety by asking whos there with you. then when you respond and he recognizes male names, he gets even more antsy. give it time before he texts you again, his fingers flying across the screen as he types out a message.

ohhh ok. are you having fun? :)

then again.

still really wish you were here with me insteadddd its so boring without you

he chews on his bottom lip, the seconds ticking by with agonizing slowness. god, just respond, he thinks, fingers twitching as he waits. then he succumbs to sending another text.

come home soon okay? miss you :3

then another, and another…and another.

after sending a few more texts, minutes go by with no response, and so he flops down onto his bed, his thoughts spiraling as he stares at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that he’s just overreacting. but the more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. why aren’t you replying?

beomgyu isn't possessive, he isn't, really...right? so why can't he seem to get rid of the reckless idea that just popped up in his head?

instead, like a magnet he reaches for his phone again, this time switching to the camera. when he sets it to video mode, all thats on his mind is getting your attention. thats it, nothing more. just your attention.

you're out with your friends at a bar, it was meant to be a girls night but you guys bumped into old college friends so it turned into something way bigger than intended. you've been trying to enjoy yourself, not seem too absorbed in your phone but when you can feel the vibrations of your phone buzzing every three minutes in your back pocket, its practically impossible to ignore. you know who it is.

any other person would've shut their phone down or at the least put it on dnd, but here you were, locking yourself in a bathroom stall after excusing yourself, pulling out your phone only to be met with the most obvious strings of messages from one singular contact name: beomgyu.

the first one after you passively replied was innocent enough, but then you see skim past the next ones:

how long are you gonna be out?

is it loud there? can you even see this? I miss you, baby

the last one really sticks out:

are you ignoring me?

you frown, but before you could finish typing out a text, a video pops up from him. you pause. you hesitate for just a second before tapping play, and instantly, you realize exactly why the thumbnail was so blurry.

the video’s a little shaky at first but eventually it steadies enough for you to realize hes on your shared bed—his hair's all messed up, sticking out in random directions, and his lips are parted as he breathes heavily. you can barely make out the details because of how grainy the video is, but you can still hear him. your brows furrow deeper…this can’t be…what you think it is, right?

and like hes heard your thoughts, he lets out this quiet moan, the camera dipping a bit, like he almost forgot he was holding it, revealing exactly what you conjured up in your head; a clear view of his hand buried under the waistband of his shorts, half-hard— leaving absolutely no room for imagination.

“i've been thinking about you all night, baby. couldn't help it... had to touch myself, thinking about you..." he trails off. you can see his fingers moving under the fabric, slow and lazy, dragging it out like he’s savoring every fucking second.

when his hand clearly starts to move a little faster, his eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself in the feeling. "wish you were here, wish it was your hand instead. fuck, it's not enough..."

his lips part again, and you can hear the faintest whimper escape him, the sound making you bite the inside of your cheeks. and it’s so quiet, so breathy, that you bring the phone closer to your ear without thinking, embarrassingly desperate to hear more. it’s enough to make you press your thighs together, trying to ease the ache building there.

but you can't seem to tear your eyes away for long as he shifts slightly, his hips arching up a little more, his movements becoming more erratic. and when you hear him whisper your name—over and over, like he's pleading, like he's praying-your throat goes dry, and your hands start to tremble.

“look at me, baby, look how fucking hard you make me. this is all your fault,” you hear his panting get louder in the background, matching the pace hes palming at his cock.

then he lets out this cute, frustrated whine, almost a little whimper, when the camera slips again.

he messes with his phone a bit, like he's trying to figure out if you can see everything all while he keeps working himself, the slick sounds of him jerking off growing more erratic by the second.. then, you catch the way his shirt rides up and thats what does it for you.

if this is what he wanted to achieve then he did it because you really, really want to get home to him as fast as you can just to pull that shirt up the rest of the way and trace the lines of his stomach with your fingers, to feel that little pink gem that pierces his belly button against your palm.

you wet your lips nervously, shaking your leg, hunched over your phone— he was so effortlessly pretty. his muscles are just barely visible and the subtle lines of his abs tense then relaxing with each shaky breath he takes in.

"you just had to go out tonight, didn’t you?" his voice is suddenly low and husky, a sulky edge to it that makes you narrow your eyes. is that what this is about?

“left me here all alone, like i don’t even matter, like you don’t care how bad i need you.” he huffs, a frustrated little sound that’s almost drowned out by the rustling of the sheets as he squirms on the bed, trying—and failing—to keep the camera from shaking. “wish you were here, going fucking crazy without you—ngh-”

you hear a swallow, and its like hes trying to keep his moans in check—you chew harder on your bottom lip. a part of you is worried that he genuinely believes that he doesnt matter to you, but the other part of you, the hornier one, is completely consumed in the shitty, low quality video to even care.

“please, just come home to me, please… i need you so bad—m’yours, all y-yours..” you notice his words are starting to become slurred, and your thighs rub together almost unconsciously in realization, trying to relieve some of the pressure building up inside you. you know hes playing on you weakness, and hes got you where he wants you.

god, i’m so fucked, you think, but you can’t stop.

firstly, it wasn’t fair, what he was asking of you—you’ve been using up all your time with him and the second you do something for you, he acts up? and you’re also a little frustrated at the fact that hes not letting you see his pretty dick in full—hes very clearly pushing you to the edge, holding back, waiting for something—for you. you think as if hes imagining your voice telling him what to do, instructing him to keep it at hold.

because how else is he not cumming already?

you know you should stop, should put the phone down, but you just can’t. you’re too hooked, too caught up in how fucking pretty he looked, how desperately he was begging for you. he knew exactly how to get to you.

“please, baby, please,” he whined, his voice getting high-pitched, his hips thrusting up into his fist. “need to cum so bad… fuck, i-"

in a panic, you click your phone shut, the screen going dark in an instant when you recognize the sound of the bathroom door creak open.

“hey, you okay in there?” the voice is familiar, and relief washes over you when you realize it’s one of your friends. at least it’s not a stranger.

“yeah!” you blurt out, probably a little too loud. you cringe at the sound of your own voice, trying to sound more casual. “i’m fine! just… just need a minute!”

you try to keep your breathing steady, praying she doesn’t push any further.

“okay, just checking!” she finally responds. you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

you listen carefully as her footsteps retreat, the door creaking open and closing behind her as she leaves. you quickly open your phone back up, your fingers still shaking as you pulled up your messages. you tell yourself you won’t watch the rest—you need to have some control, especially when your underwear is already embarrassingly wet.

what are you doing?

…is all you could muster up as a text.

you barely have to wait. the three little dots appear almost immediately.

miss you so much... just wanted your attention : (

before you can even think of a response, another message pops up— one that has your brain go blank again.

did it make you miss me?

note: dont know if this was exactly what you were looking for but ive been meaning to write a scene like this for soo long and i feel like toxic needy gyu works just perfect for this haha anywayyy send some more sub txt stuff i live for it

[sabrondabrainrot]

Bring back LAES!

I'm steadily making progress on catching up on sun and moon show along with foxy and monty etc etc but it's pretty difficult when one of the main key plot lines is gone. I know a few spoilers thanks to fanfiction but I want to see the drama in person.

Here's some outfit ideas for tsams cause I'm a sucker for fashion and redesigns!

Order is, SolarFlare - Lunar - NewMoon - Old Moon - Sunny (Solar's dimension) - Sun

closeups and more brainrot under the cut!

Explaining my redesigns! Lunar - he's not really a redesign and more so an overdesign. I love adding tons of little details to him to really hammer home his star-ness. He's such an interesting little guy, like yes he acts childish but I can see he's really growing (SAD I CANT WATCH MORE CAUSE THE SHOW IS GONE). I saw the ep he killed Eclipse and homeboy revived. The entire time I was like "Waaahh Lunar??? Waaahhh???" but I love the drama ngl.

SolarFlare - Same as Lunar, not really a redesign I just drew him with no dirt. I really love his base design it's so neat it makes me think of like sci-fi concepts from the 80's. Something from fallout really. I think it's kind of funny Eclipse's aesthetics for SolarFlare when you compare him next to say Jack who Solar designed.

OldMoon - I just wanted to give him a sleek mad scientist cool guy suave vibe. I saw the more recent thumbnails of him with a turtle neck and idk that's just peak character design for me. I'm a simple woman put the dumb-dumb in a dark turtleneck. I want him to kind of look like the BadGuy TM (he's not actually) so he gets all edgy and hard edges and stuff.

NewMoon - I wanted to do a similar color scheme but instead he has lighter colors like more white incorporated into his fit. To give him the whole 'reborn' aesthetic. He's all like "old moon wore black well I wear white now I'm nothing like him so hah!" kinda thinking. I gave his cap a fur texture cause of that one ep he turned into a furry. I drew rounder stuff on him cause he's a big ol' softy sweety pie.

Sunny - Sunny is my headcanon of Sun from Solar's dimension. I think it's really interesting his default with no personality was theater performance and not say...doing daycare stuff? I feel like honoring the FNAF books with this design by leaning heavily into the theater performer look. I like to think in Solar's dimension Sun and Moon were originally made for theater. (so far in the show I've noticed Creator says 'they needed a daycare attendant' something like that so it comes off more like they were intended for the daycare from the start VS. Solar's dimension where Sunny's core seems to be more so for the performing arts.) I also wanted to make Sunny look different from Sun for the extra angst potential of "They're similar but not the same" so I leaned more into a blue palette for him.

Sun - I just wanted to give him big puffy everything. I took away the tutu. nothing against the tutu I just hate drawing the damn thing. I like to think Sun in main has white eyes because he's so burnt out from within. *badum tish* (eyes are the window to the soul-) I also covered him in stickers because he totally would just be covered in stickers from the kids. I also decided to give some of his rays cracks because I think he's extremely sentimental and even in a newly upgraded body (after using star power to defeat Eclipse the first time) he'd keep rays from his original body? I also put the cracks ones on the side of his face where Old Moon hit him. Why? Because it just seems like something Sun would do. I love him so.

Ok just some brainrot stuff, look away to avoid spoilers .

RUIN DESTROYED HOW MANY DIMENSIONS?? SOLARS DEAD. LUNAR KILLED ECLIPSE. DARK SUN IS PLOTTING??? MOON BE CRYING??? Also Francine just had a birthday! ONE OF THE BLOODMOON BOYS ARE DEAD AND SAME WITH ONE OF THE STITCHY BOYS??? HELLO?!?

I love the drama.

Also, I love how every single kid vibe checks Sun and he passes every time. Francine? She loves Sun and learns from him. FC? He ONLY feels safe with Sun for a bit. Barry? He hugged Sun after gonad checking him (a right of passage for the bunny kid). Jack? I'm pretty sure he literally is just one room away from Sun at all times (he also calls Sun's cats his master???). I have yet to see Dazzle, but Dazzle 10000% loves Sun (I've seen the edits).

ALSO? When Lunar was first brought into the family the first person he hugged was Sun and then later on when Earth was in danger he ran into SUN's arms for safety/comfort. They're family your honor.

Sobbing and Crying laying on the floor over Solar's death but I think he'll be back.

Also the molten thing with Ruin? I'm excited to see more.

I don't have a youtube account to post about saving LAES but if anyone wants me to draw more LAES just to help the community please let me know. I'm planning to draw my idea of Earth next.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

looks like I owe everyone 4 bucks and a can of rizz soda 😔

... *record scratch*

OH HEY NOW WAIT A SECOND! This is the first time in a while that we got an episode with "SMG4:" in the title! and having peach's castle in the thumbnail?!

what. are. they. up. to. 🤔

(the following is my live reaction:)

oooh, what shenanigans are we up to now? and in Mario POV no less

FOUR IN HIS WOTFI OUTFIT AAAAA my boy 💙🥹

A DATE?! SINCE WHEN.... oh....

4... hun, don't tell me you drew her last minute for a date (same Mario same)

he really did the whole "I'm bi (myself)", just like me frfr

can't believe he would betray dasani like this smh /j

ARTHUR JUMPSCARE?! omg my childhood's coming back to me "That sign can't stop me because I can't read"

oh 3, you're on a date too? AND a fake girlfriend? what a coincidence... 🤔

somehow, all those smg34 fics that had 3 hosting a dinner date in his cafe are technically canon now, at least for 3's character (or has the Team been reading our fics oh god)

we even get a megari date? /silly

"JUST YOU WAIT, I'LL FIGURE IT OUT SOMEDAY YOU'LL SEE" I say as I get dragged into a mental asylum

OOF MARIO damn, I know you feel down but no need to do Luigi like that

oh hey E.Gadd! it's been a while huh

our lord and savior jesus, is that you?

well that's one way, very sweet (...depending on how you interpret death in this universe ofc)

PEAK SIBLING BEHAVIOR HELL YEAH

shit, we should've asked E.Gadd how to reverse that thing

*chokes on my coffee* HUH?! pause this episode right NOW, because I need to leave my room for a sec

...ok ok. can we talk about this? we're talking about this. alright so, let's start off with the basics: the fact that these two separately have a date with their inanimate objects and at one point, they decided to have a double date outside of the Showgrounds? no doubt all of the smg34 enjoyers are going to freak out about this one, I can hear it

Before I say anything else, why don't we put our smg34-tinted glasses (you got them on? cool):

Just this frame alone, I'm going to dissect this bit by bit. Look at 3's fake date: aside from being out of bombs, she's got a messy ponytail (bangs swayed to the right), big eyes, and a big smile. You got that? Now look at 4. I'll give you a second to take that in. You're back? Ok, because we're not done yet. Onto 4's fake date drawn digitally, appearance-wise, she's got straight and neat pigtails with bangs swayed to the left, calm/relaxed face. NOW look at 3. Their inanimate dates somehow mirror the other and likely this is their way of hiding insecurities/internal struggles (that includes whatever happens when they're TOO close to each other). Just by them being defensive about their own date/judging the other man's taste. Honestly, very in-character for both of them, it's simply how they are. I mean look at them, they're not even eating or chatting or looking at their dates. Just each other.

We unfortunately have to take these glasses off for a reason. Is it just me or does this whole thing feel strange? Not in the usual show shenanigans or the fact that this happened to begin with type of way. It just feels strange.

Usually with smg34 moments, there's purpose to their relationship. Even in the "Forced to Hold Hands" episode, though it was clearly fanservice, it establishes their relationship well in the obstacle course scene. Sure, they disagree, fight, get on each other's throats on some things but when the moment is dire or their goals align, they make a good team and chemistry. Their relationship grew from rough patches, at times realizing they needed each other (IGBP). Though they tease and banter, they still care for each other deep down. ALSO it was good foreshadowing to WOTFI '23 their dynamic and Guardian powers, and 3's notebook.

Basically "they're content with their lives on their own (even if they never met to begin with), but it's hard to imagine not having the other in the picture". That's why I can't imagine them being stereotypical lovey-dovey if they ever became a couple. Sure, it's cute but it's not them. Honestly, nothing would change between them for the most part, and that's totally fine by me.

That's why I find this moment strange because it doesn't carry the same energy as it had before. Instead of this scene being smg34 crumbs, it's more like "glitter splat on my face and being mildly blinded by it with confusion". Hopefully that makes sense, maybe that's just me. But anyway, we gotta move on.

I'M GOING TO KILL YOU... AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN (alfred always giving out the best of lines)

why do i hear boss music?

I know right, at least E.Gadd got it under control

I guess we can't say the word spaghet— AW SHIT THEY'RE RIGHT OUTSIDE MY HOUSE

STOP THEM WITH WHAT? OH C'MON

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING

THE POWER OF THE 4TH WALL *waves at my laptop screen reflection*

oh wait hold up the animation style changed, 4's so bouncy *squishes him like playdoh*

*PV arc war flashbacks ensue* huh, what are we doing again? oh right Luigi

3 what on earth are you talking about?! You met the 4th wall a few times now

also 4's silly and yet somehow creepy face he has here. i need you to blink, buddy, for my sake.

...also why did 4's voice sound weird? (Luke, this better be normal for my theorist's sake)

...FUCK

I never imagine a lythero ref in SMG4 but here we are :)

good question, 3. i can't believe you're the sane one here in this episode, even if you also did the fake date thing.

huh... well that looks familiar *looks at you unpleased through the screen*

It's funny to think how we the viewer or at least the camera person is the same height as the star trio

Luigi: "I've been traumatized" you're so real for that Luigi

FOUR YOU DIDN'T SWITCH IT NOOOOO

4: "Dude, seriously?" let's just give him a moment

"Clone" and "More Clone"? close enough, welcome back "why did I make a self-destruct button?"

CAN I GET A DATE?

I was gonna say, which ones were the OG's? Now we know.

👏👏👏 WELL SAID

"if you're watching this, you must be clinically depressed" 😀

Congrats to Cookie for your art being featured at the end credits🎉 we love to see it 💙 and based on one of my favorite episodes too? hell yeah

(...wait Team, why did you choose this one? what does that imply? Team? TEAM?)

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Ok, I had a moment to think it over (and finish some biology).

I gotta say, this has been a pretty solid episode to see this Mario vs Wario dynamic. A rough start but I still enjoyed it. Hilarious moments and of course great animation (how many times have I not said that). A lot of the adorable faces made were by Shadow so applause to you bud for giving me this. And we got to see a more of Wiz' writing which is always a bonus, they have been going to a good streak so far! And I got to appreciate the Team putting 3 & 4 in their WOTFI suits, my absolute favorite matching outfits.

Now, come closer, can we talk about how strange this whole thing is?

The episode title is "SMG4:" now with no explanation by the Team after 56 episodes (44 episodes if we're only counting the main series) (also 44.... huh....) why now? Why this episode?

Change of thumbnail with one having Peach's Castle in the background, despite everyone knowing that it wasn't in the episode at all and is at the bottom of a monstrous pit (my moot managed to screenshot the YouTube glitch for me)

"Well, we can't exactly blame Ben. I'm sure it's whatever the Team wanted him to do for the thumbnail."

EXACTLY! The Team wanted him to add the Castle in just as it happened with the last episode's thumbnail with Mario. And we all know what Peach's Castle means.

(that boarded room again, curse that door)

4's Breaking the 4th Wall scenes (and 3 somehow not knowing what that is???)

(should we count 3 & 4's strange dates? maybe not)

Oh, and one more thing...

Chat, we might get goop!4 after all...

LET'S GOOOOOO🎉🎸🔥

Well, it turns out that the 3 & 4 scene really was glitter spat at my face just so it would distract us from what was REALLY going on, the Team is up to something. Hell, even my "for you" section was like "dude you have to focus on the mystery in hand" /silly

The hints we've gotten so far from the episodes and the Team, it has to be goop!4. And it all comes down to the Steam page, still waiting on that though.

We might have a "man on the inside"/failsafe route with 4 here, I've told you all it might. The Team is really testing us on this one, but we'll wait. Well, chat, I'll see you all in the next one, and remember: numbers go first!

*knowing smile :)*

...wait I still owe you all money and soda FUUUUU—

[darqx]

Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..

Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0

Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)

(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)

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

❓What do you know about them?

First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:

What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?

Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??

📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.

---EXAMPLE---

Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.

---/EXAMPLE---

🤔 Make informed choices

Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)

*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.

📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.

---EXAMPLE---

In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:

Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.

Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.

Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.

Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.

Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️

Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.

*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.

---/EXAMPLE---

🔐 Don't lock yourself in

Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.

---EXAMPLE--

I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.

---/EXAMPLE---

🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part 7

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

MDNI

Warnings: Angst, violence towards reader, reader attacked by men, a pup gets hurt (but don't worry he's ok) Blood, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions, Father of reader's death mentioned. Simon's past mentioned

Authors Note - It's here, the part you've all been waiting for. The truth

MASTERLIST

They sat around the table, Simon sat on Y/N’s right and Price on her left. She was drained and didn't have the energy to do this. She looked over at Simon who looked nervous. 

“Do you want me to tell them?”

“No I can do it.” He took a deep breath. “Just tryin to figure out where to start.” 

After taking a moment he looked at Soap, Gaz and Price. When he looked over at Y/N she was biting her thumbnail with a look of deep concern on her face. That’s when he realised that he had been so caught up on how telling the team would affect him and his peace he momentarily forgot that by exposing all of this, she was being put in a place of vulnerability too. 

“I need to tell you a bit of background first and it won’t be short.This farm, our home. It’s Y/N’s family home. She grew up here. Her dad was a military man and growing up all she ever wanted to do was follow in his footsteps. So when she enlisted she worked damn hard to do just that. She ended up with top marks in both her physical and written exams. She excelled and joined an elite Canadian task force. After being with them for a bit she was chosen for the Specialized Snipper Program in the UK, and that’s where we met.” 

He took a moment to look at her to make sure she was ok, and then continued. 

“I was a weird, intense angry loner that was hyper focused on training and being top of the program. She was the only female and had the same goal and intensity. No one spoke to either of us, so we started working together. We challenged each other and would argue over who was better. I wasn’t there to make friends but I started not minding being around her.”

He saw Y/N smile at that and then continued. 

“At Christmas we all got leave and when Y/N found out I had nowhere to go she decided I was coming home with her. She didn’t even ask me, she just walked into my room, handed me a plane ticket and told me to be ready in an hour. Deciding whatever she had planned had to be better than staying on base, I obeyed.” 

He looked up at the guys now. 

“I don’t exactly talk about it but I had a fucked up childhood. Real traumatic shit. So when we got here and the first thing Momma Lynn did was hug me, I uh.. I was shocked. In my experience parents don’t hug. But instead of backing off when she felt my tension she just gave me a quick squeeze and then pulled back, looked in my eyes and gave me a kind smile.”

Y/N reached over and squeezed his hand.  

"Y/N has four sisters so the house was busy and loud.” He chucked at that. “I remember walking into the living room and all the girls were playing a board game at the dining room table and they were bickering and yelling at each other one moment and then next laughing loudly. Her dad was sitting on the couch reading a book. I looked at him and asked him if all the noise bothered him. He looked at me and then the girls and smiled. He said that no it didn’t bother him, in fact it was his favourite sound in the world.”

Y/N reached up and wiped a tear that was rolling down her face. 

“Again I’d never experienced anything like this before. Even on Christmas morning I sat back and watched as they all opened presents for each other, just enjoying the moment. Then Momma Lynn handed me some gifts with a smile. I’d never gotten a Christmas gift before, I just stared at them, and I’ll admit I almost didn’t want to open them, instead I wanted to tuck them away forever, charish them. 

Y/N saw me and sat beside me, she grabbed my hand and squeezed it before encouraging me to open them. I expected something generic like a box of chocolates and some socks but it wouldn’t have mattered what it was, I would’ve loved it regardless. Instead I opened the first gift and it was an artbook and some really nice drawing pencils. Momma Lynn was watching and she explained that Y/N had told them that I like to doodle all the time and that I was really good. 

The next gift I opened was a nice wooden box with my last name etched on the top and inside was a high end gun maintenance kit. When I looked up her dad just looked at me and explained he’d gotten one from his father when he joined up and he’d done the same for Y/N. I actually got a bit emotional and had to pretend like I had to use the washroom so I could gather myself.

It was the best Christmas I had ever had in my life. When we were leaving Momma Lynn took me aside and made me promise to come home with Y/N the next holiday we had leave and of course I agreed. After that, I started wearing the mask, because I had something I cared about.” 

Simon looked up and saw everyone looking at him intently, listening to his every word. 

“For the next year, anytime we got leave I came home with Y/N and by the following Christmas, Momma Lynn and Y/N’s dad sat me down. They told me that they wanted me to be a member of their family. They told me that they thought of me as one of their kids since the first Christmas and they wanted me to feel the same. I actually cried openly for the first time in years. I had a family. They’d even set up a bedroom for me, said I could come and go as I pleased but hoped it was more coming than going. The girls all felt the same and so that was the day I gained a mom, a dad and five sisters. It wasn’t legally done but that didn’t matter to any of us. 

Then something unexpected happened. I fell in love. We both fought it for a long time. I didn’t want to jeopardise what I had and even though it killed me, I refused to risk it. It wasn’t until Mom and dad sat me down one day. They told me that nothing I could ever do would ever change the fact that I was their son. She gave me her grandma’s ring and both gave their blessing. So five years ago, I married Y/N’s sister Ava. Y/N was my ‘best woman’, we had the wedding in the yard and it was the happiest moment of my life. That was until this past April when Ava gave birth to our daughter Clara.” 

He glanced  around the table and saw tears in not only Y/N’s eyes but Soaps as well though he quickly wiped them away.

“Something you should know is Y/N had been asked to join the 141 before I was. Kate had approached her because she’d been doing work for her and knew how good of an agent she was. Then Price approached me. We discussed it and she offered to back out, let me have the team. I wanted to work with her again and knew she deserved a spot on this team though. So I told her if we kept our relationship with each other a secret, if we pretended we didn’t know each other to protect the family then we could be on the same team. She hated the idea of keeping secrets but agreed. 

There are several reasons why I didn’t tell you, and I didn’t let Y/N. The first being that this family, my family, is more important to me than anything in the world and I would die before ever letting anything happen to them. We make a lot of enemies out there and I keep them protected by keeping my mouth shut. The second reason is that when I have this mask on, I’m Ghost. I do what needs to be done and get as dirty as I need too. But when I’m here, the mask comes off and I’m Simon. Sharing that’s hard for me. It’s a trust that I have to build and makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. You’ve only ever seen me as Ghost and I wasn’t ready to share this side of me with you at the time.” 

“Are you ready now?” Soap asked 

“I am. I’d been thinking about it before I found out that we were coming here. Y/N had told me she wanted to tell John the night we blew up the warehouse, before things went to shit. I’d come to the conclusion that it was time.” 

John looked over at Y/N sadly. God he fucked this up. 

“So you and Y/N aren’t married with children.” Gaz confirmed

“No Gaz, we're not married with children. We do love each other though, just in a sibling way instead of romantic way.” Y/N shrugged

“Never said I loved you.” Simon teased beside her 

“You do all the time you softy.” 

“Ok but I still don’t get all the secrecy behind Y/N and her background.” Soap said confused. 

“Well that is another thing I suppose.” Simon looked at Y/N and she nodded. 

He got up and walked over to a painting on the wall, pulled it forward revealing a safe. Typing in the number he opened the safe door and pulled out a file, walked over and placed it on the table. 

Y/N ran her finger over the top of the file and frowned. 

“I know at this point it doesn’t matter much anymore but this is my full file, no holds bar. The reason everything is redacted is because of our dad. Like Simon said, he was a military man. The issue is that he is a very famous man in the military community. His call sign was Phantom 1.” 

“Holy shit, your da is Phantom 1!” Soap exclaimed. 

“I don’t understand, who is Phantom 1?” Gaz asked 

“He was an insanely efficient agent ‘n’ a fuckin amazin sniper. He wis sae weel known in the community that when he died last year, they had tae have two funerals. One fur his folk and one for a' th’ military personnel that wanted tae attend. They even streamed it tae bases a’ over the world. His identity was sae weel hidden that his folk had tae wear veils ‘n’ masks to his funeral! He’s a legend.” 

Soap looked up at Y/N then realised what he just said.

“Oh shit love, I’m sorra.” 

“It’s fine.”

But she felt a lump form in her throat. She looked over at Simon and he squeezed her hand. 

“I’ll take it from here. As Soap said, our da was good at what he did, but with that brought enemies. Hence our super secret, super protected ‘farm’. There are cameras everywhere, the walls behind the hedges have motion and weight sensors, there’s a lock down procedure for the house. It’s how Y/N grew up. So when she joined up they knew that if anyone found out that Y/N was his daughter there was a chance that she would be used as leverage to coax him out of retirement or to just get plain old revenge. So they scrapped any connection to her dad and that included Canada. Hence the redacted file.” 

Y/N looked up at the team and sighed.

“I’m going to ask that even though I’m probably not going to be on the team after this, to protect this information even after I leave? Even though he’s gone we still don’t want this information leaked.” 

“Can we talk about that please Y/N?” John asked 

“Not right now. I’m emotionally and physically exhausted. I also don’t think any of us are in the right mindset at this moment to discuss. So let’s table it for now. I’m 10 feet away from my momma and I just want to get up there.” 

They all nodded and she gave them a soft smile. 

“Si rules?”  

“Yeah ok. I guess now that we’ve explained the situation I’ll get into rules and all that fun stuff. Like any other house, be polite, try and limit swearing especially around the kids.”

“Though they are used to it. Uncle Simon has a potty mouth and has to put a loonie in the jar every time he swears” Y/N added and the group laughed

“They’ll hold you to that too. The money goes to them so they’ll call you out every chance they get. Little buggers.”  

“What ta hell is a loonie?” Soap asked and Simon chucked

“A dollar. It’s a coin. I have a bucket of them in my apartment, remind me to give you some. Anyways it’s a free roam house, the kitchen is open, nothing’s really off limits. The biggest rules are no weapons on person. Don’t worry there are stashes all over the house, we just don’t want the kids seeing a gun peeking out from behind your shirt or god forbid one of them getting their hands on one.”

“How many kids are there here?” Gaz frowned

“Well our sister Charlie has two, a boy named Ky who just turned eighteen and a girl named Meadow who just turned fourteen. Then our sister Brooke has twin girls that are five, Freya and Idun, we call her Edie. Those are the ones you have to watch out for. Then me and Ava have Clara that’s eight months. Y/N and Ems are child free.” 

“And they all live here?” 

“No, but they’ve been told to come here for protection. Ava and I live here. Dad converted two rooms in the basement into a small apartment for us. Y/N lives here too, and has a room in the basement as well. Then Momma Lynn obviously and recently our Grandma moved in so mom could take care of her.”

“Which ones are single?” Soap asked with a smirk 

“Johnny I swear to god if you even look at one of my sisters I’ll rip your dick off.” Simon growled. 

Beside him though Y/N looked at Soap and mouthed Emma and Charlie. Then smiled and winked at him. 

“Alright, the last rule’s the most important. We don’t talk about work. Ever. So no chatting about past missions, injuries, guns, no call signs, none of that. If we need to talk about anything we come down here.”

Everyone nodded in agreement

“So that’s it. We’ll go in the room next door, it has lockers for all of us so anything that doesn’t fit in that standard is put in the locker. Laswell also sent over some stuff for us to make us comfortable and it’s been placed in your locker. Any questions before we call it?” 

Everyone shook their heads and as Simon stood up, Soap and Gaz followed suit and they headed out of the room with the exception of John and Y/N. She picked her file up off the table and held it out to him. 

“You can read it if you want. I’m not hiding anything anymore. All my merit is listed out for you.” 

He looked at the file and then took it from her hand. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of it.” 

“I know. Me too. But what’s done is done and even though you’re sorry it doesn’t erase the things you said, or what you’ve done. We’ve got to move forward, it’s just not the way I thought we were going too or how it would look.” 

“Is there anything I can say to fix this? You said you love me and I need to tell you…” 

“John, stop. It’s too late. And anything you say at this point just seems disingenuous. Like you’re only saying what you think I want to hear to fix this. It’s over, we have to accept that.” 

She left the room and John felt his heart break. He placed the file on the table and followed her out of the room. 

[kirlicues]

Gabriella House Plan | CC-Free Sims 2 Lot Download

It might look a little plan from the front, but this sprawling single story home is one you have to see inside to appreciate. It's cc-free, built on a 5x3 lot, and costs §191,705.

This lot is built from house plans and took me a few years of tinkering and adjusting to get to look right in the game, but once it came together I knew my sim family had to live in it.

Here's how it looks from the back: Again, it doesn't look like anything spectacular, but just wait until you see the floor plans...

🎶We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you "Memory Lane Moments with Kirli", the part of the show where--🎶

Err, let's just get this "show" on the road, shall we?

Even though I don't play very often, I did get some pictures of the Sim version of my family enjoying this home several years back, before I polished it up to share.

These guys are all in college in real life. Where's that "aging off" cheat when you need it? They were just toddlers 21-ish days ago! Ok, it has been a few year longer...😢🥰 Being a Family Sim is hard! Maybe it's time to lock that "graduate 3 kids from college" want...🤔

Here are a few pictures just in case you are also a Family Sim and have nothing better to do than scroll through a few "scrapbook" moments.

He won't let me do this in real life anymore, so my simself gets to have all the snuggles. Just look at those double plusses! Aww!

I have no idea what is going on here and I don't think my eldest son does either, but the littlest sure is getting a kick out of it!

Then there's this guy. He has about 2 outgoing points, and 15 niceness points (ok, I exaggerate, but only slightly) and goes around sniffing flowers. I even have a real life picture of him sniffing flowers in our front garden. 🥰

🎶...And, now back to your regularly scheduled programing...🎶

So, uh now that we've walked down memory lane for a minute, how about that floor plan? It's had a bit of a makeover since my sim family lived in it and I've changed up the bedrooms for variety's sake.

Main Floor: Clockwise from bottom left: bathroom, kids bedroom 1, kids bedroom 2, master bedroom, master bathroom, bathroom, living room, kitchen, dining nook, guest suite/mother-in-law suite, garage, laundry room, formal dining room, and entryway.

Did you also notice there's a little garden plot in the back? Nothing says "I love my family" like pulling weeds, spraying bugs, and getting heatstroke fresh meals made with homegrown produce!

Isn't it magnificent?! The only down side? Not quite enough bedrooms to fulfill my 10-kid want. The garage on this lot isn't functional. You'll have to leave the car parked in the driveway, folks which is how my actual real life home looks with everyone driving their own vehicle now.

Loft: Or turn this into a bedroom and add a couple more kiddos to your family! 🥰 Goodness, this empty nest syndrome is all too real.

Gabriella House Plan: MF | SFS

All EPs and SPs are required.

*I highly recommend that you have the PerfectPlants mod from TwoJeffs*

I’ve run this home through the Lot Compressor so any random references to sims that aren’t there should be removed. I have also run this lot through the Lot Cleaner to remove any bits of buggy code. This lot comes with a shiny custom thumbnail so it has even more curb appeal in your Lots and Houses bin! 😄

I ALWAYS recommend using the Sims 2 Pack Clean installer to install lot files.

Want to improve the look of your game, or grab some “Lost & Found” Maxis objects? Check out this post.

[artemisrogers]

Shadows Follow James Hetfield x Kirk Hammett x Reader

I hated how I felt nothing but pain fear and anger run in my blood. I've been friends with both Kirk Hammett and James Hetfield since we were kids. But as soon as Metallica got big it was like they were nothing but strangers. I mean we used to keep in contact all the time by phone or mail in the early days as Metallica was Starting out. But since then there's been nothing. I hummed along to my music when I decided to open my gallery for my pics and videos.

I swiped carelessly through my photos of me, scenery, wallpapers. Then I came across a video the thumbnail showed a much younger me in a mirror but I was in someone's dressing room. Then I realized this was from when I was hanging out with James and Kirk in there dressing room. I hesitated but pressed the button and Kirks voice with James' laugh filled my room. The me in the video made a goofy face before putting the camera on both of them.

James had his white explorer on his lap as he took a swig of beer while Kirk was talking to me about something before making a shy face at the camera. I felt my heart get heavy as the video ended with James tossing in a half cut off comment. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to stop the tears that seeped out my eye as agony filled my mind.

"What the fuck did I do back then? I wish you two could be here with me. Guess the band was more important..." I trailed off to myself as I threw my phone letting it hit my mirror with a smashing sound as the mirror broke.

😭😭😭

I had gotten home from a long day out and slammed my door shut kicking my heels off. I sighed flopping onto the couch to finally relax when my phone started to ring. With a groan I picked it up not looking at who was even calling my mind disoriented from lack of sleep and stress.

"M'ello?"

"Y/N?" A voice said.

I froze recognizing the voice off the bat as Kirk's. His voice had gotten deep and had a slight rasp to it now. I felt all my emotions threatened to explode as I cleared the lump in my mouth to speak.

"Kirky? Is it really you?"

"Yes it's me, I know it's been what feels like forever ago since we spoke."

"No kidding I didn't recognize your voice right away. Is Jamie with you?"

"Oh God you still call us Kirky and Jamie huh? Yeah he's here next to me actually." Kirk said putting his phone on speaker.

I heard a deep voice say hi and my eyes widened.

"Hey y/n."

"Holy shit James what the hell happened to your voice? Second puberty?" I said shocked at how his voice got deeper from the high squeaky voice I knew. I heard James laugh and my emotions threatened to explode in a negative way.

"Smartass. Yeah my voice got deeper. Listen we'd figured we call for a sec before we went on stage. Which is in one minute. So we'll talk to you later." James said nonchalantly.

That took the cake and everything i ever felt came out.

"Oh my fucking God! It's like I never existed to either of you now isn't it! Like I'm a stranger. I haven't heard from either of you two fuckers since 1986. '86! You know how much pain I've been in since then. How I felt like I did something wrong. How I've wondered if you two were dead or not?!"

"Y/n please it's not like-"

"Shut up! It's my turn now to speak! I'm never going to understand how the fuck you or Kirk can sit here call me and then act like everything is ok!! I fucking hate you both! I! Hate! You! Both!" I yelled angerly- as I hung up the phone and tossed it away.

Silent tears I had fucking spilled as I decided to toss my phone on the floor hard breaking it, the screen shattered. Shaking silently I fell asleep. My whole friendship with these two had meant nothing but shit. They only cared about Metallica and their stupid fucking fame!

🍑🍆💦

I woke up to a loud knock on my door. I got up, my black nightgown straps off my shoulders as I fixed them back on my shoulders. I peeled in my door hole and froze. I opened the door hearing thunder from outside telling me it was stormy. The two men who I remember as long haired, skinny teens stood before me as two different people. Kirk has gotten leaner over the years and James got beefy with tattoos on his arms and hands and neck. Both of them have gray hair now James' short. They were both wet from the rain.

"what the- who-" I spluttered making James laugh softly. How I missed hearing him and Kirk laughing at the time as we did dumb shit.

I let them in and close off myself to both of them again as the same anger and betrayal hit me hard. I should feel happy! I should be able to talk and catch up with them lol like old time friends but it all felt fake. Kirk looked at me and already knew what was going on at the same time James did. I didn't expect James' reaction though. He ran his hand through his hair roughly a sign he was getting pissed off.

"Why did you two decide to come and see me? You got Metallica and all those fans as your friend!" I said harshly.

"Shut the fuck up y/n!" James voice cut through the air leak keva knife. I opened my mouth before closing it again. Kirk just shook his head at me the look of disappointment in his face at me. Who fucking cared anyways? I've never had James pissed like this though.

He shot me a look that actually scared me his eyes no longer that ocean blue. No they're now bright blue like lightning. I knew I was pushing my luck but I didn't care and gave him the bird for good measure. That took the cake for James.

"You realize that we came here to try and fucking talk to you like a normal human being?! You decided to explode and be all fucking nasty to us! Saying you hate us! Yeah things have been fucked up things got busy! It's called were in a band! I ain't gonna put up with this...childish attitude now nor will I continue to have my patience tested!" James yelled at me his anger full forced.

I froze feel like a dog who got kicked as I turned my back feeling sick to my stomach. I'm the child all of a sudden? Yeah sure. I heard James cursed under his breath his heated gaze on my back. I walked away into the bathroom slamming the door as I tried to calm down.

"You know what you want us to leave we will then!"

"James stop it let me talk to her."

"You see how she fucking treated us!"

"You also realize how she must feel right? We just called her today and we haven't spoken to her since Master of Puppets! I mean fuck James she feels betrayed and hurt. I'd be just as pissed if I was in her place and you would too!" Kirk said concern in his voice.

He was sticking up for me. He understands how I felt. I heard James sigh softly. I know they must both know what I feel now. I came out the bathroom and walked to the living room again dropping my gaze out of Habit, when I know I fucked up. Kirk came over to me giving me a hug gently squeezing me. He still had that scent of sandalwood and pine.

"I'm sorry for blowing up like that."

"we can't blame you kid. Kirk and I have been dicks." James said walking to me and Kirk after Kirk stepped back from hugging me. This is naturally how we always have been. We'd argue, fight, cool off, and forgive each other.

I didn't expect James to Walk over and tilt my head up to look at him. Not that I wasn't already doing that as he was fucking 6'1" and Kirk was 5'8". James looked at me in a way I've never really seen before, and I couldn't even form the first word to my sentence before he kissed me. The kiss was deep and gentle. We kissed for a few seconds before he pulled away pulling me close to his body.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while. Kirk and I...we haven't spoken to you in a longtime because... well we have feel for you. Both of us do." James confessed squeezing me with his beefy arm gently.

I felt lips on my neck and saw Kirk placing a few kisses on my neck before giving me a soft kiss on my lips. My heart racing softly as I smiled.

"Crist you two. I love you both too. I just wish y'all told me sooner haha."

That's when James kissed me again this time with all of his pent up feelings for me. I kissed him back as Kirk watched us patiently waiting for his turn in this kissing session. James moved his large tattooed hands on my hips squeezing them roughly as he back me into the couch pushing me onto my back. He trails kisses down my jaw to my neck and then bites down roughly on my pulse sucking on the skin. A soft moan came out as I squeezed his biceps feeling pain and pleasure. When he sat back on his knees a dark hickey was already forming on my neck.

"God I can't get enough of you babygirl. Let us take care of you tonight." James said before he kissed me again slipping his tongue into my mouth with a hunger.

Kirk adjusted his jeans as he watched getting excited by the sight of James kissing sucking and biting my swollen lips. I felt James unbuttoned my top showed my breasts to both of there gazed. A goan escapes Kirk ax he walked over and captured a hardened nipple intp his mouth a sucked on it. I couldn't help the moans I let out as James moved to my jeans unbuttoning and shoving them down with my panties.

"Fucking slut is soaked already? You like this don't you? Getting attention from two horny rock stars?" James teased his voice husky as his thick finger found my clit and started to circle it roughly.

Kirk lets go of my nipples and moves up to swallow the moans in my mouth. I felt James slipping two thick fingers in my pussy stretching me out deliciously. Kirk took his time with me peppering me with kisses and groping my breasts and ass.

"God princess those sounds are driving us crazy. James let me taste her. I wanna make her cunt squirt in my mouth after I eat her out." Kirk said hoarsely.

As James and Kirk switched places I felt Kirk Hook my legs on his shoulders a five into my pussy. James swallowed my moan with a rough kiss growling to remind me of my place. Kirk may b gentle kissing but God did he eat me like I was his last meal. I felt my stomach knotting just from his mouth alone. His lips found my clit sucking on it as he switched between sucking my clit and tounge fucking me slipping a finger onto my hole hitting my g-spot-

"Good girl you so close cum for us cum on Kirk babygirl" James cooed in my ear. I let myself go the pleasure causing me to shake. Kirk lapped up my juices until I finished cumming, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

James spready legs open wider as Kirk stepped back to unbuckled his jeans. I looked at James lost in my own arousal. He chuckled as Kirk pulled his jeans down with us boxers his thick cock hitting his stomach. James still held my legs open as Kirk lined up his head with my entrance and slowly pushed in. A soft moan escaped me as he bottoms out inside me. God he feels good fucking thick too. James tilted my head up as I adjusted to Kirk's dick, and spit directly into my mouth. I swallowed it eagarly loving the differences in them. James was rough and dirty while Kirk was gentle and passionate.

Kirk began to roll his hips as he started to fuck me gently. The sounds of heavy breathing, grunts, groans and moans, and skin against skin filled the room. The Storm becoming nothing but white noise as the sex occured. I wrapped legs around Kirk's waist as James unbuckled and stripped himself of his own jeans and boxers. He was definitely bigger than Kirk and less girthy.

"Think she can handle two at once Kirk?"

"I think so God wait until you feel her. Clenched like a fucking virgin and so tight!" Kirk said between groans. I thought I was already stuffed enough until I felt James' tip pushing against Kirk and my entrance stretching me out more. I whimpered in pain slightly as I felt a burning sting from the stretch.

Both men groaned once James got himself inside me making my pussy overstuffed, in a good way. Both men started to fuck me at once making me lose myself in pleasure. I grabbed anything I could, James' chest, Kirk's biceps, either of their hair. Anything as I got cockdrunk so close to orgasm again.

"God James I'm gonna fill this pussy up so well."

"So damn tight, shit I'm getting close too. You gonna cum for us babygirl?'' James said knowing I'm nothing but gibberish and moans.

Kirk and James came just as I hit my climax filling me with their seed. Kirk pulled out and laid on his back as James pulled out onto his side. We took a moment to catch our breaths as I felt their seed mixed with my juices leaking out of me. I put my head on James' chest as Kirk spooned me, and James played with my hair. I fell asleep immediately satisfied and exhausted. James kissed the top of my head as Kirk kissed my shoulder.

"She's a keeper for sure."

"Yeah. She's ours now."

[yjdrabbles123]

haii:3 i was wondering if i could request little!nat headcanons?:0 thank you in advance!

Ofc! Thank you for the ask!

-Not really a headcanon bc it’s basically canon but massively affected by her upbringing. Like she knows her dad was a dick and her mum was awful but she can still hear them telling her shes bad/lazy/selfish/cruel. She struggles a lot with the idea that she’s undeserving of care.

-Really really aches for things she didn’t have as a kid but can’t verbalise it or ask for them. Like never getting to pick out a stuffed animal that was new and just for her, because that’s a waste of money when you can get toys secondhand. And she DID love her secondhand toys but like….the idea of getting to pick something out new???  When Jackie and Lottie find out that Nat has this unfulfilled dream, they engineer everyone going to the store and picking out a stuffed animal because they know no way will Nat agree to do it alone. But if it’s a bonding activity thing that everyone is doing, they know Nat will go along with it. They also make a big deal of not being able to choose so that Nat can spend as long as she wants picking: when Mari whines at them to hurry up because they’ve both got a million stuffed animals already, they send the others off to get food without them and Lottie engages Nat in a very detailed question about what exactly plushes are stuffed with so that everyone sort of drifts off without them. Nat picks out an armadillo and is quietly overwhelmed with both happiness and sadness. It’s ok. Lottie and Jackie apparently really, really need to get a coffee before they join the others and Nat is able to get control of herself while squashed up on the Starbucks sofa next to them.

-Jackie and Lottie are the two people who Natalie can most relax with when it comes to this sort of thing: they’re both kind and non judgey and they Get It because of their own messed up childhoods and there’s just this trust between them. Like she loves Van but she grew up with Van- Van is too much of a peer for her to feel like she can let Van take care of her. -When she’s upset, she’ll find a small space to hide in. It’s what she had to do as a kid. There’s a bit of back and forth about how much this actually helps her because generally it just makes her feel more isolated and scared but also they don’t want to like forbid her from it. One day Jackie just decides that she’ll at least make sure the closet is as comfy as possible and next time Nat hides away, she finds a few pillows, a super soft blanket, a cuddly bat (because they like dark spaces too!) and a note from Jackie that’s just a heart and a smiley face. -Only lets herself slip into a younger mindset when she feels safe enough to do so or when she’s alone. Starts to become harder to hide when she’s doing it more though- finds herself sort of absently starting to suck her thumb when they’re watching a movie and has to pretend that she’s just chewing her thumbnail instead. Blushes super super hard and thanks all the gods its dark.

-Wets her bed semi-regularly when she’s having a particularly bad run of nightmares and its super, super embarrassed about it, especially as it isn’t something new or even really linked to feeling younger, it’s just something that she never quite shook off from childhood. Jackie and Lottie try to reassure her that its ok and totally understandable given the stress of her abusive homelife but Nat is still so so humiliated by it. -She doesn’t care about having her hair done or anything but one day she casually comments that she doesn’t get why Jackie likes having her hair brushed so much and Jackie is like ‘....let me show you’ and Nat is a total convert after that, it’s just so soothing. It’s also something she can let Jackie do in public so it becomes a bit of a Thing: if they’re out and Nat is getting overwhelmed, Jackie will offer to brush her hair for her in the car or wherever. -Actually not a massive fan of horror, even when not feeling small. Like she knows it fits her aesthetic but…yeah no. She still will watch horror with Van but she doesn’t like it and Lottie will try to nudge them to something lighter. When Van finds out Nat has been watching under sufferance, she feels like the worst person ever. -Doesn’t really draw or colour much but LOVES getting new felt pens: there’s just something so satisfying about them and how NEW they are. She’ll just doodle curls and squiggles to enjoy the colours.

Hope you enjoy!

[aries-of-spades]

Ok so I did a li'l project with a fic of mine

Basically, I'd wanted to draw an art peice for every chapter of Zombie Fungus, making them almost like illustrations in a story. This was partially for practice with this sort of thing, and also so I could put them in when I print out my fic to bookbind.

I'd been working on this for a few months, and it was pretty fun choosing what scenes from each chapter were my favorite, or looked the most cinematic in my mind, and then transferring that to drawing.

Also good practice for actually doing thumbnail sketches and using references and values since they're all black and white.

Obviously, spoilers for Zombie Fungus, if you are wanting to read it it's here.

mild body horror for some of these

oki

Chapter 1, I liked the mental image of Scar floating the items w/ his magic.

Chapter 2, bird. To be fair, not a lot happened in that chapter XD

Chapter 3, it was funny trying to figure out how riding a strider would look and realizing it is not comfortable. But I had to draw this scene.

Chapter 4, Abigail ^^ also IDK why but Ren is always hard to draw for me

Chapter 5, I'm actually really proud of this one for some reason XD (dancing zombie-)

Chapter 6, thinking back, I could have done the falling bookshelf for this, and I'm not sure why I didn't. But I still like how this came out.

Chapter 7, I just really wanted to draw the hug.

Chapter 8, this one was oddly fun to do. It was also funny trying to figure out just how a bloody nose would bleed, only to find internet restrictions not liking that search.

Chapter 9, Love me some movement and effects. Looks like an album cover...

Chapter 10, this one was tedious just because of how many people there were. And then trying to get the lighting right.

Chapter 11, I do like this one, though it's hard to tell False is holding a shovel. Also all I can think of while looking at this is creepypastas 'cause that's what I was listening to while drawing it. So I think she's suitably scary, lol.

Chapter 12, I kinda like how the fire came out. Something about Bdubs' face is off, but I don't really know what and didn't want to go back and change it after finishing.

Chapter 13, of course, I had to draw this scene. I had a pintrest board of faling people for this. The movement was a bit hard to get, but I thinked it worked out. Also expression :)

Chapter 14, this one was... fun. I don't know what to say, other than it would be really hard to explain the context XD But I think the details came out nicely. Living pinecone. Also I keep forgetting Ren's sunglasses.

Chapter 15, this one might just be my favorite out of all of them. The values and the circular layout worked well, and the spooky vibes are there. I really wanted to capture the idea of the ghosts without directly stating it, just like when writing that scene.

Chapter 16, I do like this one, though I feel like the values don't have quite enough contrast. It was interesting trying to figure out what exactly the source block would look like, and just trying to get the general atmosphere. But overall, I like it.

I debated doing one for the epilogue, but couldn't decide on a layout I liked. If that changes I will update this lol.

But yeah, they were super fun to work on, and I totally recomend doing this sort of thing with really any story if you want to practice scenes/backgrounds/just making a drawing look like it would be in a book.

[nightixx]

Okay, I've been thinking if those red lines actually mean something on moon's face (because the only thumbnail artist I trust is meg—)

So

Either those red things are like nerves to show he's pissed (cuz no shit robots won't have biological nerves to show how angry they are) and they basically mean nothing.

Or

it shows that moon is getting back to his original code, but I'm not talking about a kill code. Because I'm sure that's the whole "violence and murder" thought process isn't from the kill code, it's in his original code, the kill code was just the urge to act on those thoughts and I think it's more logic than saying that kill code was the reason of the whole thought process. We know that he's getting more and more violent and even worse than old moon. How can he be worse than old moon with without kill code ? Because old moon was aware that he had this code which means he wasn't really free from his thoughts I guess ? (Hard to explain ngl) If old moon started to think about murders etc, the kill code would make it act on it so he could limit himself as "ok, if I keep thinking like that there'll be consequences" but new moon doesn't have that, he owns his whole body, mind and code. There's nothing from stopping him to act on his code etc..

But why would he come back to his original code all of the sudden ? Maybe because of extreme situation? Because he's put in the situation he was scared of ? Like a survival instinct like us human, we go back to primary instinct when we're put in extreme situations

(hope this is understandable-)

[mysteryanimator]

SENSES - Animatic breakdown :D

Breaking down my panels because I am silly and I know some people wanted me to break down my thoughts for this. THOUGH, I still leave a lot up for interpretation!

You can watch it here :D

(Also I ended up adding subtitles to this, so you can see what panels get timed to each lyric)

(I won't go through every single panel since 30 image limit BUT please know that 99.9% of the panels have been beamed with a lot of symbolism. I'm very passionate about this subject, esp with drama scenes LOL)

Also here proving to myself I don't use ten billion close up shots HAHAHAH, ty for three days ago me for thumbnailing everything

SECTION 1- MIZRAK'S POV

yes, the first verse and first chorus is from Mizrak's perspective/second verse is from Olrox's perspective.

OK, not only is the establishing shot, but it kinda establishes the major symbolism stuff I play into- hands and windows! Connection and dividers! Please keep in mind eyes are the window to the soul :D

It very much informs the entire animatic LOL.

From here on out (till a certain point :3) the window acts as a divider. This shot will be important for later btw :))) Also I have a feeling Olrox would say something like "Destiny always seemed make believe."

Fun fact, I ended up dropping a wip section 01 to a few people and they were all eviscerated by the part of Mizrak reaching for Olrox. This acted like a screen test for me and later informed me to focus on Mizrak's hand for a few more shots.

WHICH, BY WAY THE CHORUS BREAKUP SECTION FROM MIZRAK'S POV:

I won't delve too much into here, BUT mentally i decided that when interpreting the chorus, it was as if they were speaking to each other. It also happens again for the bridge part :DDD

SECTION 2- OLROX'S POV

What was important to me was getting Olrox's POV on Mizrak, since in Nocturne we explored Mizrak getting insight into Olrox's past I went "omg, let's do the reverse!" and get Olrox to gather insight on Mizrak's past.

I've perceived Mizrak to be a lot more snappier with his co-workers and friends (take for insistence him yelling at the other monks, and being a lot more direct without fanfare with Richter and Maria in the first ep)

PARALLELS !!! Which, the abbey is intentionally overlayed over Olrox, hahaha Mizrak needs to choose between duty and desire :))))) Also this is the sole reason why the placements are skewed heavily to one side, so they can literal mirrored version of each other and be put side by side.

I actually debated myself a lot for this part, because the plan was going to go in a very different direction, however I thought having them not facing the camera, much like how they both can't seem to face themselves (or each other directly for this matter). Which I noticed was a huge thing with the character acting between those two characters.

ANOTHER CALL BACK LOL. Also I personally interpret Mizrak saying "we make our own destiny".

Mizrak reaching out !!! Also, while there is no window, the wood panels are there to substitute for the division theme. Olrox is standing on that divide and Mizrak has to decide if he wants to "break" through that divider.

SECTION 3 - omg they do it

OK, the scenes where they do the deed!!! By this point I feel like you guys are already getting very used to all the call-back scenes, so instead of doing a mirrored version of the first chorus scene, I decided to make all of the lyrics a contradiction to what was happening on screen. This helps for the hard cut to their argument hit sooo much harder (well i would hope sooooo LOL)

also if this shot feels familar, It's from an animation wip I'm working on that's been shelved for now because of uni HAHAH

A fight? No no, you're getting them fuc-

HAND, this will be the only time they will touch hands. The only time they connect. Also I like the contradiction with the "leave me alone with all of my questions", while they literally hold hands as they do it LOL.

SECTION 4- The argument

OK SO, me explaining these frame isn't super important, its more so a fun fact BUT going back to them using parts of the song as their "dialogue", I thought it would be fun to have them jab at each other. SO when Olrox is paired with:

"Know you fell for the person that tried to be someone they're not." Olrox is taking a jab at Mizrak for not being himself.

"You long for a feeling you'll never get back and I'm scared that you'll finally give up." Mizrak is taking a jab at Olrox for being a 'coward'.

HA, so remember eyes are window to the soul? Well so I decided that for this argument section, I wanted to give off that the argument here was literally going to dig DEEP, so I just ended up reusing the exact same lighting/posing for them. Which is the reason why they're both dead center (and it helps make this section slightly disorientating).

Which by the way, I noticed in Nocturne, these characters don't face each other directly when being vulnerable- they're always like behind or off to their side. The only times where they've been face to face properly are these:

"You're an animal whose soul died centuries ago." "Oh, has the world abandoned you Mizrak?"

They're jabbing into each other's inner psyche, so I wanted to do that here :D

Yes, that is right. Briefly you see Olrox's lover and Olrox's amercia fit. I thought it would be SO angsty for the earring piece to come from Olrox's previous lover. Also the past versions only start appearing during the "but the one you'll never love." :))))))

Btw I'm not 100% solid on Olrox's prev lover design, but I'd love to develop him more someday (if he doesn't get further developed season 2)

SECTION 5- Aftermath

From here on out, I make the references so much more obvious! For Olrox waking up I ended up going backward of the introduction! Which as a final note, the abbey and Olrox are on opposite sides of the divide :)))

Also, around this time I had realised "oh I have 30 seconds left and I want this done now or else it'll fester and rot in my brain, making me unable to do anything else until I finish it." So instead of completely making new assets from scratch, a much more straightforward parallel was in order (and it makes it super angsty too, which double points)

The ending I wanted to leave very open ended! However, I will make it known that he crosses over that divider when he balls his hands into fists, unlike how he was unable to when I first showed this exact shot.

Also these are the three shots I reference back to for this final scene. Mizrak ends up crossing over that divide, much like he did when the animatic started. WHICH AGAIN, you are super free to infer and make up your own thoughts as to why these scenes were crucial for referencing.

By the way, every time we have seen Mizrak from the chest down, it starts from the back, then the side, and now the front :))))

As a side note, every time I cut off a character's head (specifically eyes too) in a shot, it is very purposeful to force the audience to infer what these characters are feeling and base it off their body language alone. It is also in a way, an attempt to conceal as much as I can about what the character is feeling, playing into the theme that eyes are the window to the soul, and we, as the audience, are not allowed into their private thoughts.

anddd done :D hope y'all enjoy this info-dumping soup. I'd love to try my hand at some action boards and see how my analytical brain puts drama beats there, since at this point applying emotional connections to compositions and camera angles is second nature. So that for action hrmmmmmm we'll see AFTER UNI THO (ANNETTE IT'S YOUR TURN)

I have one assignment left for this semester, wish my uni wouldn't adamantly put down 2d focused students (or wish they'd even teach us, though honestly teaching myself is very fun and rewarding) BUT I digress!

I had a lot of fun doing this! Ty for reading this far LOLOLOL

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

I'm finally back with more MLC long fic snippets for you! FDB is carrying a wounded and barely conscious DFS on his back and is about to attempt to use qinggong to get them out of the tree DFS had collapsed in. (You can find all previous excerpts here.)

**

Slowly, making sure the additional weight on his back didn’t unbalance him, he planted one foot up on the branch and shifted his weight. He brought his other foot up to join him, clenching his core to stay stable.

He looked down at the ground below. He hadn’t exactly used qinggong from heights quite like this before, and certainly not while carrying anyone else or without the use of his arms, but presumably  it was the same idea. He cleared his throat. “Ok. Here we go! Hold on tight.”

“Wait,” a-Fei croaked in his ear.

Fang Duobing froze immediately. “What is it?” 

A-Fei shook his head, his hands fumbling until his left thumb was positioned immediately over the nailbed of his right hand’s fifth finger. Then he jabbed his own Shaochong acupoint with his thumbnail with a force that would have made anyone else cry out in pain. Fang Duobing gaped at him as a-Fei kept digging into the very sensitive point, with a faint, barely audible hiss as the stubborn man’s only reaction. 

“Wait, you were about to faint?” Fang Duobing yelped. Oh Gods, if his arms had slipped off of him while they were in the air and he’d fallen backward, a-Fei could have hit his head on a tree branch, or worse! Thank goodness he’d thought to use the acupoint to restore consciousness. “Here, scoot higher up so you’re draped more over my shoulder! That way, even if you let go, you’ll stay–”

“–Stop. Talking,” a-Fei snapped, his breathing labored. “Fix your technique. Or you’ll shatter your leg.”

“Oh.” Fang Duobing winced. Apparently there was more of an art to this than he’d realized. “What am I doing wrong?”

A-Fei’s answering sigh was so much heavier than he was. “Your qi is too slow. And the proportion is off. Put more around your feet and ankles. Start now and increase it as you approach the ground.” He took a deeper breath. “And you’ll need your arms,” he said, his scowl audible.

Fang Duobing shook his head and forced himself not to press them closer to his sides. “I can’t. You need them more!” A-Fei could already barely move from exhaustion; it was unthinkable that he could support his legs on his own. And even if he could, they’d both seen how poorly he responded to being that close. The emotional toll alone would be–

“–Do it,” a-Fei growled through clenched teeth, “or you’ll splatter us on the forest floor. Right arm first. Now.”

“Fine! But you better not fall, ok?” Fang Duobing’s voice shook slightly despite his best efforts. He slid his arm out from under a-Fei’s thigh and lifted it far enough away that a-Fei wouldn’t bump it as he changed position but close enough that he could catch his leg if a-Fei didn’t have the strength after all.

Slowly, jerkily, and with less grace than a-Fei had ever before exhibited, a-Fei extended his leg and wrapped it tightly around Fang Duobing’s waist. 

Fang Duobing stayed as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe.

A-Fei swallowed and dug his thumb harder into his Shaochong acupoint. “Left,” he gritted out. 

They repeated the process, a-Fei’s foot, then leg, then entire body were trembling from the effort by the time he was fully in position. If a-Fei was breathing, it was too shallow for him to feel, despite their proximity.

Fang Duobing swallowed. “You’re sure about this?” He tried desperately to ignore the fact that a-Fei’s groin was once again pressed tight against his lower back. This was absolutely not the time to–

“–Hurry and fix your qi, brat,” a-Fei rasped, his voice shaking almost as hard as the rest of him.

“I’m trying!” Fang Duobing pushed his worry and other feelings for a-Fei aside as much as he could and closed his eyes. He imagined his qi spinning faster and faster through him, on separating some to cushion his feet, ankles, and knees while the rest kept circulating.

“Arms,” a-Fei prompted, and Fang Duobing stuck his arms out to his side, feeling the qi race through his fingertips, ready to slow his descent.

“Now,” a-Fei snapped, and Fang Duobing opened his eyes, shifted his weight, and stepped off the branch.

Time slowed. Fang Duobing felt it drag against him like the air currents they flew through. A-Fei hissed other instructions at him–faster qi, lean back, not that far, bend your knees–as the forest floor grew before them. 

“Palms,” a-Fei growled in his ear. 

Fang Duobing sent out a large pulse of qi from each palm straight at the ground, just before his soles hit the floor. 

His ankles and knees twinged slightly with the impact, but that was all.

They were safe, because a-Fei had helped.

A-Fei, who had been on the verge of fainting, who had just had a qi deviation, and a panic attack, and who could barely move or speak moments earlier because of whatever horrors had haunted his mind, had used a resuscitation maneuver to force himself to save them yet again.

It wasn’t fair. A-Fei deserved rest, not having to push himself to and past his breaking point once more.

Maybe, now that they were back on solid ground, and would soon be back at Lotus Tower, they could give him the safety and comfort he needed.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d accept some of it.

[thecreelhouse]

part time soulmate, full time problem

Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!

Summary: The tragic accident Willow died in replays in a nightmare, in great detail, along with how you and Gator stopped talking years ago. While Gator comforts you, a confession slips, making it crystal clear there’s no going back.

Word count: 10k+

CW/Tags: PTSD/flashbacks/nightmares, hurt/comfort, blood/injury mentions, discussions of kinks and boundaries, somnophilia, dacryphilia, oral sex (both f and m receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, anal play, brat taming, boot grinding (I’m so sorry lmao), bunch of other filth, lots of fluff in between it all

Series Masterlist // Read on AO3

A/N: hi y’all!! This chapter’s hopefully gonna make up for the heaviness of the last one, as well as the insanity of this week’s episode. It’s emotional, but I promise it’s a lot sweeter than the last chapter. Thanks again for all the support on this series y’all. <3

Day 9

Freshly 18, you had your own place, your own car; safety to retreat to, and a way out, just in case. You had worked so hard for things your classmates were gifted from parents and took for granted. What they got for free from parents who cared, you’d work two jobs after school for.

Independence like yours on the surface was something most teens your age yearned for, but deep down, it was just a painful reminder of the way your family was falling apart right before your very eyes. You did what you had to do to survive, and to keep your sister safe from the threats that once hurt you.

“She’ll be here, it’s alright.” Gator said softly as you glued yourself to the window, while you watched the snow coat the street below your shitty shoebox sized apartment. His hands rested on your shoulders from behind, instantly easing some of your tension. “You taught Willow how to drive in this weather. She knows how to be safe.”

You wordlessly nodded, eyes never leaving the view out of your window. Gator could tell nothing would ease your mind until she arrived. It didn’t help that you were beginning to feel a strange distance growing between the two of you already, but he was still here at this point.

“Would it help if I went out to look for her?”

You finally turned around, seeing how concerned Gator was, too. “Don’t do that, you’re right. She’s fine. She’s probably just driving slowly in the snow. I’d rather her get here alive if slowly than not at all.” Your eyes linger, locking with Gator’s for a moment; you could tell neither of you believed your words. You chewed on your thumbnail as you turned around to look out the window again.

All the “what-ifs” began to run through your mind again, even as you watched the snow slow to a light dusting of flurries.

A police car pulled up in front of your building, catching your eye; your heart sank into your stomach. Something wasn’t right. Your hand fell to your side and your breathing became shallow, rapid.

“Gator?” Your voice shook as you called out for him, but a knock on the apartment door grabbed his attention first. You whipped around, as Gator waited for your OK to answer the door, since he was closer to it. You nodded, feeling lightheaded; your mind was one step ahead, dissociating already.

Now you knew something wasn’t right. Especially if they were here to talk to you, not your parents.

Gator swung the door open, and it’s no one you recognized, but he did; someone who worked with his dad regularly.

All sound around you faded out as a ringing took its place, high pitched and painful. Nothing was right. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. It was all wrong.

Gator took over on conversation with the familiar cop, voices hushed in a somber tone; you saw him in your peripheral vision continue to look back to you, worried, but this sickening daze held you in a death grip. You couldn’t breathe; it felt like your lungs were filling up with sorrow already to brace yourself for whatever was about to come.

It only took hearing the words “I’m sorry,” to set it all off; you weren’t even aware you were already crying, but those two words pulled the most heartbreaking, bloodcurdling wail from your lungs.

You didn’t faint, but your mind had a gap from that moment and how you ended up on the floor in the fetal position, screaming. You didn’t know when Gator came over to you, to grip you in his arms, as if you’d vanish before his eyes. As if the grief would’ve swallowed you whole on the spot.

The ringing faded a little, and you could only make out some things Gator said; something about the cop giving him all the information to give to you, and that he’d go see your parents next, and that he truly was so sorry.

You were always Willow’s emergency contact before anyone else. But she didn’t even have a chance to call for help, a drunk driver hit her head on, and she died on impact. Meanwhile, that drunk motherfucker survived.

Waves of anger and pain flooded through you, so you sobbed and grabbed Gator as tight as he held you. You couldn’t see past the tears, but you heard him crying, too.

“I’m so sorry.” It was all Gator could say to you, other than, “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” repeating it over and over.

“Don’t leave me,” You wept, unsure where that came from. He wasn’t moving, he was still holding you. If Willow was gone, Gator was truly all you had in this terrible town.

“Promise I won’t.” He said firmly, “I’m here for you.”

He repeated it so many times, you actually believed him.

Days later, arrangements were made only by you, since your parents couldn’t be bothered. You texted Gator to give him the details, but he never responded. Only left you on read. So, you called him. No answer, ever. Even went to his house, to which you were given some weak excuse by Roy as to why he was busy and unavailable. Every time you tried to contact him, tell him about the viewing and funeral, he never answered. Not once had he checked on you since the night Willow died.

So, you stood alongside your parents at the viewing, feeling so alone, even as you sat through friends and family giving their condolences down the line after paying respects to Willow. It wasn’t even her. Just a dolled up shell of who she was, or rather, wasn’t. No amount of thick, oily, mortuary makeup would ever make your sister look alive again. You felt isolated during the service, shut out from the only other people that should’ve cared for you. They should’ve cared about Willow, too.

And as the casket lowered into the ground, all you could think of was how you wished it was only the snow that took her, and not some scumbag drunk driver. The biggest wish was that she was never stolen from life so early at all. Your only other thought was how you wished Gator would show up. He never did, so in a crowd of others, you mourned alone.

Time passed, and you stayed in your apartment, distanced yourself even further from your parents, and prayed you’d hear something, anything from Gator.

Eventually, your parents threw out most of Willow’s belongings before you could gather some of them to remember her by. It sent you into a violent rage, throwing their own belongings around the house; frames cracked, vases and knick-knacks shattered, and your mother cried. She wept more over this than at the funeral for her own daughter.

Your father refused to understand your pain, only to unleash his abusive fury on you, like how he did during the days you still lived at home. Your mother watched silently as your father swung fists at his own child. His only child at this point.

After the bereavement time passed, you returned to school with a black eye. No one, not even your teachers asked if you were okay. It was either a punchline in someone’s shitty joke, or juicy gossip, or ignored completely. You weren’t sure which of the three were the worst.

When Gator saw you in the hallway, his heart shattered, but he said nothing. Just gave a quick glance of sympathy before his asshole friends caught his attention again. At first, he said nothing. By the end of the week, he was joining those assholes to say rotten things about you, about how weird you were, how tired and sick you always looked now, and how you probably deserved that black eye.

You pulled yourself out of school to finish senior year in homeschooling; aside from some online classes, you taught yourself the rest. It was a quiet and lonely rest of the school year. You skipped your own graduation. You had no one to celebrate with. Your parents didn’t want to go. Your only friends were gone, one way or another; Willow was dead, six feet under, and Gator suddenly withdrew from your entire life.

You were only home for another month or so before moving on a whim in the early summer. You finished the apartment’s lease, sold most of your things and your car; you packed the few necessities you had, along with some of Willow’s personal belongings she left at your place. Without much of a goodbye, your parents were more than glad to offer a ride to the airport, more than satisfied to get rid of their one remaining child.

As you threw your things into the trunk and slammed it shut, a familiar truck parked across the street, with Gator hesitantly stepping out. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, time stopping around the both of you. He held his breath, unable to move more than one step before you stopped him from crossing the street with a cold glare and your middle finger flipped towards him.

You held it for a few seconds, hoping he noticed how dead tired you looked, how sick the heartbreak of losing two people at once made you, and the few bruises your clothes didn’t cover that your father gave as a farewell present.

Gator looked like he was punched in the gut as you climbed into the backseat, while not once did you look back at him as your parents drove off.

———

Quickly, you’re sitting up in bed, gasping from startling yourself awake. You have a lump in your throat, as if you’d start to cry, but it never starts. Your chest felt heavy as you tried taking deep breaths, not realizing how hard you were gripping Gator’s arm out of instinct, digging your nails into his skin, until he was woken up by the pressure and slight pain.

A searing pain of your own tears glides across the side of your face; your fingers touch along the bandages, and everything begins to flood back to you, along with fresh blood onto your fingertips.

“What the fuck—“ Gator grumbles as his eyes open; he looks pissed, but only for a moment when he sees how distraught you look. His irritation only takes a second to turn to concern, sitting up to move in front of you, hands resting on your shoulders as your body was stuck in this terrible feeling right before the tears break. He holds you just like he did the night Willow died, before moving his hands to cup your face; he’s cautious and gentle with the side that’s injured, keeping his touch off of the wound.

“Hey, darlin’, what’s goin’ on?” Gator’s alert but the sleepiness still clings to his words.

What he thought were tears was blood from the laceration on your face. “Fuck, how’d this open?” Scrambling to get a better look at you, he clicks on the lamp near his bed. He’s torn on whether or not to care for you emotionally or physically first as he takes in the heartbroken, pained look on your face, while blood dribbles down your skin.

Your stare is blank as your breathing stays shallow; everything’s spinning from the dizziness. He sits as close as possible to you, watching you spiral into panic and dread. The wound long forgotten, you look down at your arms and legs, checking for the bruises you were once so used to seeing as a child.

Gator follows your gaze, confused. “What’re you lookin’ for?” He’s pulling his shirt up and over his head, using it to clot the bleeding. Using generous pressure, he holds the fabric to your face, watching blood trickle through, but not drench the shirt, thankfully.

Without a verbal answer for him, your tears finally, finally break. Up until this moment, you were completely numb, but you can’t take it anymore. They’re silent, but they’re rushing down your cheeks wildly, like a broken faucet. Some slip under the shirt on your face, sneaking their way under the fabric and seeping into your cut; you hiss as the salty tears sting. “I wish I- I said goodbye.” Your voice is small and broken. Gator isn’t sure what you’re talking about, but his heart breaks for you regardless.

“Said goodbye to who, darlin’?” He’s reaching over to his nightstand, fumbling through its messy drawer, hoping to find a bandaid; he lucks out, removing the shirt and applying it to your face. He’ll clean it for you later, but right now, you need comfort, and something to stop the bleeding.

You lock eyes with him, overflowing with tears, and he finally gets it, but you answer anyway. “I wish I said goodbye to you, Gator. I- you came by the day I left a- and… and…”

Gator pulls you into a hug, pulling you onto his lap while holding you just as tight as the night your sister died. He realizes the disaster that happened hours earlier must’ve triggered dreams of the past. “I’m so sorry I was so- so mean… I should’ve—“

Gator grabs your face in a clumsy motion with gentle intentions, just missing your wound again. “Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize. You were never mean to me, but I was fuckin’ awful to you. M’so sorry. I’m gonna be regrettin’ that every day for the rest of my life.”

“I was so mean to you as soon as I got here th- though,” you shut your eyes tight, hoping it’ll shield you from any further pain. “That wasn’t fair to you.”

Pulling back while he still holds you, Gator looks devastated as his gaze bores into yours. It kills him that you’re blaming yourself for how the friendship ended, all these years later. He should’ve been there for you; he never should’ve left to begin with. It was his fault he ran away, not yours. It’s his fault you had to finish school at home, his fault you felt so alone in a place you already considered so empty and depressing, feeling like your only other option from giving up was moving hundreds of miles away.

Gator doesn’t even realize that he’s the one crying this time, not until you bring your hands to his face, softly wiping the tears away. His hands meet yours, keeping them in place as he takes comfort in your touch.

“I fucked everythin’ up. I wasn’t there for you when Willow died, I didn’t say goodbye to her, I didn’t protect you from your parents… I can’t even pretend I didn’t know things got worse with ‘em, not with how shameless your dad was about hurtin’ ya’.” His bottom lip quivers while he looks to the ceiling, hoping to stop his tears. This wasn’t about him, and he knew that; his grief and despair was for you, past and present.

“I heard you were leavin’, and it killed me that I never apologized before you left, but I get why you didn’t give me that chance. I never deserved it to begin with. It seemed like it was best to just… back away and protect you from my own bullshit. But we had each others’ backs, and I fucked it up.

“There’s no way to take back the way I hurt you, but I’ll try every day to make things better for the future. Fuck, even if we end up just friends when this is all said and done, I’ll still do anythin’ you need me to. I’m not leavin’ again. Not unless you tell me to.”

You’re at a loss for words, heart breaking as it swells, too. You were no stranger to the abuse his dad had put him through, along with surrounding trauma in that family. It’s something the two of you knew how to comfort one another on. Make each other feel a little less alone.

While you did what you could to get out and start living the life you deserved, he always brushed his pain off, raised to believe expressing emotions and being vulnerable wasn’t what “real men” did. None of this excuses the way he left you behind, but you’re well aware it played a big part in it all, and he never had a healthy outlet to heal through.

Gator’s been suffering, but also drowning in his trauma, too. If he just kept holding on, kept following his father’s orders, no matter how dangerous or unspeakable, maybe that could be his life raft out of the dark waters trying to drag him down.

Truthfully, Gator knew all along being complicit in everything his father has carried out and exploited wouldn’t get him anywhere. He’s no closer to heaven than any other scumbag officer abusing their power to get what they want, or get what his dad wanted. Every empty and full threat made, every shot fired at those who never deserved it, the orders he followed through on, despite his conscious screaming in the back of his mind to stand up for himself— did any of it earn genuine love and approval from his father?

Not at all, and that’s something Gator will carry heavy on his heart until the day he dies.

He really had no one when it came down to it all, no one, except you. He has you. He’s always had you. Even when the two of you didn’t talk for years, he was on your mind more than you’d like to admit, both out of anger, but mostly worrying for his safety and well being.

Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking about you just as often. While he always believed you were tough as nails, a soft rose with razor sharp thorns for anyone who dared hurting you, he couldn’t stop the worry. The bond was a silent radio signal, but the faint buzz still hung lightly in the air between the two of you, even halfway across the country.

“You know… this goes against everything I’ve learned, and unlearned, in the last several years. Forgiving you, I mean. Who you are, that goes against everything I believe in when it comes to morals as a person.”

Gator’s not surprised by your words, but they still hurt like a well needed reality check. It’s still something he brought onto himself. He might’ve been raised by a rotten excuse of a dad, but he could’ve been changing long ago as his own person, as an adult. He could’ve distanced himself from his father and all of his crimes and atrocities, rather than desperately fight for Roy’s approval.

“But you were only that person on the surface. I’ve been lucky to know the real you ‘fore we fell apart. And… I missed you… more than you’d ever know. Seeing you again for the first time in so long… I felt like the only way to keep my guard up was to be mean.” You admit shamefully. Gator brings your hands down with his before lacing your fingers into his. “I don’t even think I realized what I was doing until you—“ You pause, trying to swallow the inevitable lump in your throat, trying to manifest into more crying. “Fuck. I almost hate you for making it so easy to love you again.”

The words slip out before you can catch them in time, eyes widening with embarrassment and fear of rejection and judgement. Your mouth opens and closes comically like a fish as you scramble to think of an excuse.

“Did… did you just say what I think you said?” Gator’s stunned at your accidental confession. He’s also surveying your expression for any uncertainties or doubts.

How are you so good at letting the wrong things slip at the wrong time?

You try shrugging it off, but your hands shake in his grasp. “… You heard nothing.”

“Ain’t that gaslightin’?” He’s teasing, but you’re tensed up, expecting rejection if you answer him. Gator’s eyeing you skeptically, “No, I definitely heard something.”

“Prolly’ just the wind. Very noisy. Can’t shut up, just like me!” You force a laugh, but your voice cracks. “Totally valid you’d think it was me, but nope. Didn’t say a damn thing.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, unable to look away from one another, staying still, afraid to make any movements that could be misinterpreted. The howling wind picks up outside, and a draft breezes between the two of you; you’re too lost in the moment to care about being cold.

What breaks the tension is Gator’s signature cocky smirk, but it’s not malicious. It’s like the one he gave you when you accidentally called him cute a few nights ago.

“You love me?” He hesitates to believe what he heard was actually what you said.

Can’t play dumb out of this one.

You take a deep breath before confessing, “More than I’m willing to actually admit.”

“… You… love me?”

“… I absolutely shouldn’t after everything we went through… but, yeah. Yeah. I do.”

Gator searches your expression for something, anything that’ll give the hint that this is just a joke, a prank, something to get back at him for everything he’s done to you. You don’t break. There’s no sign of your confession being anything less than true.

“We still have so much to learn ‘bout one ‘nother… you sure you want to love someone like me?”

“Only if you want to love someone like me.” You’re terrified saying this out loud, but you’re far past the point of return.

Gator feels like he’s dreaming, and all he can think to ask is, “… Can we still make fun of each other?”

“Pretty sure it’s just our love language at this point,” You laugh away your sniffles. “Just don’t be too mean, alright? Unless it’s like, consensual-in-bed kinda mean—”

Gator stops your rambling, pulling you back into his lap; you’re automatically wrapping your legs around him as he holds you close and tight. “Then yeah. I love you, freak.”

You snort at the once hurtful name, now a reclaimed term of endearment, as you let your head fall into his shoulder, “You’re never gonna give that up, huh?”

“It’s only fair since you keep mentioning that goddamn sock—“

“Gator? You know fleshlights are a thing, right? Can I get you one? I’m gonna get you one.” You’re grinning at the deadpan glare he gives. “Guarantee that’s gotta feel better than a fucking sock. Wool can’t feel good on your—”

Again, he interrupts you, “You’re never gon’ give up being a brat, I guess.” His hands are pressed against your back, pushing your body closer to his, as if there’s any space left between the two of you.

“Like you said,” Your lips are barely touching when you use his words, “Someone’s gotta fuck the brat outta me, right?.”

He laughs into a kiss that’s short and sweet. “You’re my brat, though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You grin before kissing him again. “Always.”

“Wouldn’t promise always yet, I know I’m still on thin ice.” He’s aware one week together wouldn’t fix everything magically.

“Until further notice?”

“Now that just makes it sound like a job.”

“Brattin’ is a full time job, y’know.” You smirk, kissing along his jawline. “Someone’s gotta keep ya’ busy so you don’t get into real trouble.” He involuntarily gasps as you move down his neck, gritting his teeth as your lips drag against his skin, with your teeth gently scraping every so often.

It’s subtle, you almost miss it, but he flexes his hips upwards into you, movements more deliberate when the friction reaches your core. It provokes you to paw at his chest while you start to tenderly suck on his neck

Then, Gator remembers your face wound, “Wait, wait, wait.” He’s pushing you back, and you begin feeling rejection, or worry that you’re not making him feel good, but he’s checking the temporary bandage holding your wound from seeping open again. Relief pushes the fear of rejection away.

“Before anythin’ else, lemme clean it for ya’, okay?” He gets up, heading for the door, and you follow him, clutching your head as dizziness catches up to you. “Darlin’, you can stay in bed, it’s okay. I’ll go get the first aid kit—“

“Mama didn’t raise no quit—“ You pause and chuckle, while he feels bad as he stifles a laugh, “— never mind, she didn’t raise me at all.” You’re pushing past Gator towards the bathroom, and he follows.

“Jumpin’ into the dark humor already? Damn.” He’s trying his best to hold his face straight, but you poke at the corners of his mouth, pushing upward into a smile.

“You can laugh, I promise.” You’re glancing around as you back off of him, playing I-spy with the clutter in his bathroom. It’s not terrible, or filthy, just random things left about in spots you wouldn’t find them normally; you’re baffled as to why there’s a bottle of engine oil on the floor by the shower. Glancing up at him, you quirk a brow, “Gator, do you even have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah! I do…” He’s glancing around, confidence in his answer fading fast. “… I think.”

“Last time ya’ saw it?”

“…….. Good question.” Gator shrugs with an apologetic smile, despite the look you’re shooting him. “There’s gotta be bandaids somewhere in here.” He’s pulling cabinets open, murmuring, “No… not there…. No— oh, that’s where my spare keys went!”

You sigh dramatically, sitting on the bathroom counter. “Gator, do you ever clean?”

“Not as much as I’d like to,” He’s pulling things out of the medicine cabinet, whispering a small but victorious “yes!” when he finds a box of butterfly bandages, slapping the box on the counter’s surface. Continuing to look, he finishes, “Kinda hard when Roy has me cleanin’ all his fuckin’ messes.”

Your lips pursed together as you watch him, wondering just exactly what kind of messes Roy got him into.

You weren’t dense; you knew he had hurt people in the past, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he killed someone, too. That alone should be a hard line for you to never, ever cross, but everything is so much more complex than it seems. It’s troubling and conflicting for you; you aren’t making excuses. You could never make excuses.

The only choices Gator has are to clean up his act, or continue down the path his father forced him down, so, so long ago. The decision’s up to him. Things can only go up from here, and whatever the circumstances may be between you both, you can only hope and encourage him to be the best version of himself from here on out. Not just for you, or this relationship, but for his own well being and future, too.

“Okay, I think I found enough stuff to treat it.” He’s still murmuring, like he’s talking to himself as he washes his hands. “C’mere,” It’s a gentle order, one that you follow with ease, tilting your head up and to the side, flashing the haphazardly placed bandage over the gash. “Jesus…” Gator doesn’t mean to react out loud, but in the light, it’s clear it was more than just a quick swipe of your father’s hand against your face; that alone is still bad, but your face is bruising around the wound’s edges. There’s an array of colors blooming around the laceration; blues and purples, mostly, but Gator knows they’ll turn a sickly yellow and green before fading completely.

“How bad is it?” You ask; you weren’t able to bring yourself to look closely in the mirror. You didn’t want to see the results of your father’s unjustified anger. Not now, at least. Gator hesitates answering, brows knitting together as he focuses on removing the old bandage gently, along with the original ones Karen applied after the abuse occurred.

He avoids your question completely, not wanting to upset you further. “Bad news…. I only got rubbin’ alcohol to clean it.” He’s studying the pencil thin lines of reds and pinks, expanding away from the source of pain; they jitter and jolt harshly, like lightning bolts, fading out like spider webs. “We got soap, but I don’t got any antibiotics or anythin’.”

“Wait, is it bad to use rubbing alcohol?” You gasp while turning to him, thinking back to the first night together, when you cleaned out the tiny wounds he earned kneeling on the broken lamp. You used rubbing alcohol to clean the cuts after removing the shards, but now you’re worried and second guessing.

“Yeah, it’s not like… the worst thing, it still cleans it, but I read it makes it harder to heal or somethin’. Takes longer.”

“You read?”

Gator narrows his eyes your way teasingly; he knows you’re joking. “Anyway, yeah. Shouldn’t be the first choice.”

“Fuck, I used that on your cuts—“

“And they still healed, no infections.” Gator assures, gently turning your head to the side again. He cleans the dried blood with water and a cotton pad as best as possible. “I’m grateful ya’ helped at all… and it’s nice when ya’ think about it… you’re a lil’ rusty at this. All things considered, that’s not so bad. Means you’ve been safe since leavin’, y’hadn’t had to rely on fixin’ up your own wounds.”

You don’t cry, but his point makes you emotional, skin shivering over his thoughtful view. “Since when are you lookin’ on the bright side?”

“Think some pain in my ass has been an influence on me lately…” His tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth ever so slightly, pulling back as he throws the now-tinted reddish-brown wad of cotton into the sink. Grabbing a clean piece of cotton and the rubbing alcohol, he takes a deep breath before asking, “You gonna be brave for me?”

It’s been years, at least over a decade, since you heard Gator ask you that question. It was common when you were younger; you became your father’s punching bag early in life, whereas your best friend became your personal nurse. Over time, you learned how to tend to your wounds on your own, but Gator was the one that taught you the basics. As kids, you were both terrified of the damage adults could unleash, but he always held strong on the outside as he helped you, and always encouraged you to be strong, too.

You nod slowly, bracing yourself for the sting of the liquid. Cleaning a wound is not the worst pain you’ve ever felt, clearly, but it’s the sting that reminds you of how you were hurt to begin with as it lingers. The healing process. Everything becomes a reminder; even if the damage heals, you’re left ripping open the emotional wound when you begin to spiral. This time, you barely have hope, but it’s still there; you’re feeling a little more at ease with him helping than trying to tackle this alone.

Gator reaches around your head, pulling you towards him to kiss your temple quickly. “Tell me if you need a break, okay?”

Again, you nod, firmer this time. Gator pours rubbing alcohol onto the cotton before beginning to clean the skin around the cut. Some liquid seeped into the valley of the wound, and you hiss at the burn.

“M’sorry, darlin’.” He always hated this when you were kids, and he’s not a fan now. Helping you? Not a problem. He’d do it in a heartbeat. Never hated caring for you. But… Helping you keep a wound your abusive father gave you from becoming infected? Different story. “Deep breath f’me.”

You do as he says, screwing your eyes shut as you steel yourself for the burn. When the liquid makes its rough entrance, you’re biting your lip, holding your breath.

“Y’gotta breathe, baby.”

Forcing yourself to exhale, a whimper of pain slips out too. “Fuck, it’s been awhile.”

“What did Karen use on this?”

“No clue, but it was a lot kinder— fuck—“ He’s trying his best to keep a feathery touch as he cleans the blood up. “— t- than this.”

“I’ll run out and grab somethin’ kinder,'' Gator mumbles, keeping his focus on your cut, but he’s simultaneously keeping an eye on you, too. “Can’t now, though, it’s only midnight.”

“Shit, really? I’m sorry I woke—“

“Every time y’say sorry when you shouldn’t, I’m gonna spank ya’.” He’s joking, but you become stiff under his touch, and he realizes what he said wasn’t appropriate right now. “Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have- I wouldn’t actually—“

Eyes still clamped shut, you relax under his touch again, and he sighs softly, relieved. “Don’t be. I … I don’t think I can do impact play for a while… I know we haven't tried it together yet, but I- I think I gotta keep it off limits for awhile.”

Gator stops, tilting your gaze back to his as he pauses cleaning your face. “We don’t have to do anythin’ for a while. Or ever. If you ain’t comfy with somethin’, don’t ever be afraid to tell me. A lot of it’s all new t’me.”

You nod, silently relieved. Not that you thought he’d push boundaries while you’re not doing well, but it helps to hear him verbalize it.

“Same to you, y’know. Anything. Ever. If I ever say or do anything you don’t like, tell me. Please. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” He tilts your face again, cleaning the last of the stubborn blood and fibers from his shirt he used earlier. You’re growing used to the burning sensation, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

“Anything… if it’s rougher or new for either of us, we gotta talk ‘bout it first. Deal?”

Gator doesn’t skip a beat when he agrees, “Deal.”

It’s quiet for a moment, just some small, weakly muffled whimpers here and there, with Gator’s soft breathing filling in the blanks. Finally, he throws the last used cotton pad aside. “Done. Well, we’re done with the hard part. Gon’ bandage this up and you’re good to go, baby.”

He begins to apply butterfly bandages across the open skin, his touch infinitely more soothing compared to the rubbing alcohol.

“Gator?”

“Yeah?”

“… I think m’still okay with spankin’, though.”

Pulling back after the last bandage sticks perfectly, he pulls back, scanning your features as you face him again.

“Y’sure?”

“Yeah. And if anythin’ changes, I’ll tell ya’. Promise.”

“Alright.” Gator disposes of the used supplies before turning back to you. “Not now, though. You need more rest, and I was just jokin’ anyway.”

“I don’t need more rest right now.” You know he’s caring for you and your needs first, but you wish he’d stop being a decent person for five seconds and pick up what the two of you started in his room. “I need to forget everythin’ that happened last night. I need you.”

Gator smirks softly, “While I’m honored, and I wish I could make you completely forget, it’s not smart or safe to tonight,” he spreads your legs, only to stand closer to you as he holds you close, “I don’t feel comfortable doing anything to ya’ right now, not while you’re goin’ through so much.”

Your first reaction is to pout, but you stop yourself. Even if you want him right now, he’s not comfortable, and you don’t want to make him feel worse. “Yeah… I respect that. Thanks for lookin’ out for me, Gator. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“Y’know, m’glad we can talk about this stuff.” He murmurs, face buried in your hair. “I don’t ever want to make ya’ feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Just want ya’ to feel loved, ‘cause ya’ are.” Distancing a bit, he kisses the top of your head before stepping back, hand held out for you. You grab it, using his grasp to balance as you slowly slide off the counter; Gator leads you back to bed, asking, “Hey… don’t feel pressured to agree to it… but can I wake ya’ up tomorrow?”

You know what he’s asking, and playfully smirk. “Yeah… I’m cool with that.”

————

Normally, you’re not the heaviest sleeper, but after the previous night, your body couldn’t get enough rest. Gator almost feels guilty trying to wake you up, but you’ve slept a good eight or nine hours straight through; probably the first normal amount of sleep at a decent time within the past week together.

Gator can’t help admiring how serene you look while you’re asleep; your pouty lips are parted ever so slightly as the untouched side of your face is snug against a pillow, smushing your face into the fluff. You’re cozy and calm, with your arms wrapped around one of his. Every so often, you make little hums, stirring before settling again.

Even though Gator was firm about not taking advantage of your vulnerability, what you initiated, after asking him first, he was more than fine with. Before falling asleep, the two of you got handsy with one another, though it never led to either’s release; it was carefree and mind numbing. Gator checked in multiple times with you, asking if you were okay, if it was alright to touch you, and so on. Each time you answered with the sweetest smile that you were fine with things.

Shortly after you tore off the sweatshirt you stole from him, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to even attempt to open them with all of the exhaustion. Gator held you close until he fell asleep, too.

Remembering all of that, his eyes wander down your body, pausing on the cute, black sheer bra you have on. Usually you don’t sleep in bras, but that had no chance to cross your mind before you zonked out. It’s a little snug on you, but he likes the way your soft, plushy curves spill over the cups just a bit. Your piercings are visible through the sheer fabric; it’s a casual, small detail that’s sending his thoughts spinning.

It also drives Gator to palm your breast, thumbing over the sensitive, pebbled skin, flicking lazily at the little barbell jewelry. You hum, huffing weakly just over the subtle touch. He was hoping to take his other arm back from your grasp, but you’re tightening your fingers around his bicep, leaving small crescent indents from your nails.

The reaction you give to that tiny action has Gator riled up already, but he reminds himself he wants to take his time to make you feel good. He languidly kisses along your jawline, avoiding your facial injury as best as he can, making his way to your neck as his hand still works at your chest. Another hum bubbles up from your chest, but it comes out as a whiny, needy groan instead. The vibration from the sound on Gator’s lips against your neck tickles him as he wanders down to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He sucks at a specific spot, one he’s taken notice of that you’re very sensitive in. He could do this all morning, pulling these sweet, fragile noises out of you; it’d be more than enough for him, but his craving to pleasure you is greater than his own desires right now.

You turn back towards him, hips fidgeting, searching for something to satisfy the ache and loneliness between your thighs. In one swift movement, Gator kisses down to your chest, dragging your bra down under your tits with his teeth before he latches onto you; his hand gingerly slides down to your core, slipping between your thighs. He makes a breathy, shuddered noise around your nipple at the feeling of how warm and wet you already are.

The movement makes you buck into his palm, where he adds pressure to your clit over the fabric of panties that match your bra; you squirm against his hand, dragging your slick along his palm. It’s taking everything within Gator not to pull back and lick off the excess arousal, so he keeps himself busy, tongue flicking at your piercing, with his teeth every so often clashing against the metal.

You let go of Gator’s arm, tangling your fingers in his hair where the styling gel lost its hold by now, pressing him closer into your chest. He looks up, and you’re still asleep. There’s a look of agonized pleasure on your features; mouth parting open as your breaths pick up into gasps, brows knitting together while your back arches, pushing yourself even closer into his face. Gator doesn’t bother holding back a groan as your pace picks up against his hand, grinding with a frenzied hope you’ll reach your high soon. You’re still asleep and unaware; Gator knows by now how you look and act when you’re asleep, but he never thought you could be so active when aroused and knocked out.

Still trying his best to be careful and gentle, he slowly pushes you onto your back, hand still between your thighs, mouth still on your nipple, and you stir, murmuring something under your breath. You’re panting softly while Gator switches sides, suckling on the neglected nipple, pinching and tweaking and flicking the other with his free hand.

Whimpers leave you louder than before, and though Gator loves teasing you, he’s trying to be good right now; his mouth leaves your skin, kissing down your soft tummy while rolling the thin straps of your underwear down your legs. You’re soaked, which isn’t surprising, but it gets Gator just as hard as the first time. He can feel himself leaking through his boxers already.

The softest “oh” escapes you as he’s leaving open mouthed, slow kisses along your folds, sucking gently at your swollen clit. That’s what begins to pull your eyes open, and as you awaken, Gator has his arms hooked under your legs, humming around your clit before he drags his nose down your core. You yelp, in a haze of pleasure and sleepiness, when he starts fucking his tongue into you; you can’t help from riding ever so slightly along the firm slope of his nose. He encourages it, pushing his face into you, which only makes his tongue delve deeper, earning a soft cry from you.

You finally glance down, watching Gator look back at you from between your legs; the sight alone is nearly enough to send you over the edge. You’re so needy, feeling so sensitive and dizzy. “… Gator?” You rasp out.

Gator smirks into your skin, sliding back up your folds to work on your clit again, fingers swapping places with his tongue inside of you. “Yeah?” He’s lapping at your bundle of nerves, and you can feel heat building up within you.

“Hi,” Is all you can think to rasp out; it’s small, needy, and makes Gator chuckle into your skin. That just makes you gasp as you grab onto his head, bucking against his mouth.

“Hi, darlin’.” He’s pulling back, causing you to whine in protest; his fingers still keep on, though. Spit follows his lips from your cunt, causing you to tighten around his fingers. “Lil’ spit slut,” Gator teases, but it just makes you clench again.

“C’mere,” You’re panting desperately while he moves up your body, and you’re grabbing at him wherever you can to pull him up faster; his fingers still within you, he begins slowing to a taunting pace.

“What’s up b—“ You cut Gator off, kissing him roughly, tongue dancing against his with ease from the mix of your slick with his spit in his mouth. He shudders a moan into you, fingers in your cunt losing any rhythm left. When you pull back, you’re the one looking pathetic, for once. “Open that pretty mouth, darlin’.” You do, sticking your tongue out; Gator holds your tongue out between his thumb and forefinger firmly in place, forcing out a thick string of spit onto your tongue. He moves his grasp onto the untouched side of your face, watching you swallow as his thumb grazes back and forth along your cheek. “Good girl,” his praise is low, gravelly, but still earns a smile from you all the same.

“You said you’re still alright with spankin’?”

Dumbly, you nod in a lust filled daze. “Mhm.”

“Flip over,” he orders, pulling his fingers out as you do. You whine again, feeling empty. “Can y’be patient for me?”

You shake your head ‘no’. “Why not, angel?”

“I need somethin’…”

Gator’s concerned, moving to look at you; the safe side of your face is on the bed as you’re laying on your belly. “You okay? Should we stop?”

Again, you shake your head. “What is it?”

“I- I’m… there’s a toy I want,” You murmur, shy unexpectedly. “Can we use it?”

Gator nods, kissing your temple before moving to your bag. “In here?”

“There’s a- um- there’s a hidden pocket, it’s in the zip pouch, inside the flap—“

Gator’s scrambling, hand landing on something small within the hidden pocket; he pulls it out, recognizing immediately what it is, blood rushing south.

“I- is it- is this what y’—“ He moves back to you, holding up a shiny, silver plug, with a cute little heart shaped gem at the end. “This?”

You smile bashfully, “Mhm.”

Gator wants to ask why on Earth did you bring several toys with you on this trip, but simply asks, “… You sure?”

“Only if you are, but it’s okay if—“

He’s quick, a little too eager to answer, “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Ever use one before on someone else?” Dumbfounded, he shakes his head in response. “It’s easy, but y’gotta go slow, okay?”

“Can y’tell me what to do?” Gator asks, voice trembling a little. He’s so aroused by this but nervous, too. “I’ve, uh… never used toys with someone… not there. Don’t wanna hurt ya’.”

You giggle at his nervous energy, not laughing at him, but it’s sweet that he wants to get it right. You reach for a pillow, shoving it under your hips, tilting your ass up and out for easier access.

Once more, you remind him, “If you’re not comfortable, we can stop.”

“Jus’ a lil’ nervous… but I’m more than fine with this, darlin’.”

“It’s just like usin’ fingers, gotta prep first, ‘kay?” You purr, giving him an encouraging look before burying your head into another pillow. “You won’t hurt me, promise. If ya’ do, y’know I’ll like it.”

“Yeah…” He trails off, thoughts spinning over your last comment as he ends up behind you again. He can’t take his eyes off of your dripping core. “… gotta do somethin’ first, though.” He murmurs, hands on your backside before he ducks down, mouth on you all over again. Yelping, you turn, neck craning to get a better view; the sight of Gator eating you out, plus the sensation of his ministrations make your eyes roll back, face falling back into the pillow.

You’re not expecting him to lick a stripe upwards, tongue trailing around your tight hole. It makes your knees weak, legs threatening to collapse, but he holds you up without interruption to the filthy act he started. Leaning back, he spits onto the taut ring before continuing to tease with his tongue; his fingers explore your cunt again, rubbing soft, slow circles onto your clit.

“Gator, what the fuck?” You breathe, looking back again. He’s worried he did something wrong, and stops. Frantic, you elaborate, “N- no, keep going, I just—“ He continues, making your brain melt before you can finish your thought. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do this? Any of this? Jesus fuck.”

“‘Member the story I told ya’?” He answers huskily in between motions, “Why I can’t go back to church?”

“Uh-huh…” Again, your face buries into the pillow, muffling your moans. Gator pulls back again, leaning forward and over you to pull your hair lightly, exposing your face again. You’re whining at the mess of sensations gripping his fingers inside of you. The thought of fucking around in a church, of all fucking places in the world, with Gator, does something to the ex-Catholic in you.

“Pastor’s daughter wasn’t as innocent as her daddy thought,” He’s traveling back down your body, he releases his grip on your hair, spitting again on your hole again. “Sure wasn’t as sweet as you, darlin’.” You’re gasping as he tapers his tongue into you, fingers matching the pace. He’s melting you into a subby, pliable wreck; you’d do anything he asked of you right now.

Brief spasms roll through you, and you’re giving into the urgent craving of more stimulation, trying to grind down onto the pillow you placed under yourself. Gator digs his grip into your ass, preventing you from grinding as he holds you in place. He pulls back again, removing his fingers, too. You’re furious at the sudden halt.

“Gator, seriously?!” You’re irritated, wishing you could feel some kind of friction against your clit, at least. A loud slap echoes in the room, followed by an aching sting on your backside. You turn again as the sting is smoothed over with his soft, kneading touch. You’re not as bold when you whimper out, “Why’d you stop?”

Gator doesn’t answer, just leans over you again, hand pulling your head back by the front of your throat. “Open.” You’re a little delayed in catching on, so he gently thumbs at your bottom lip. “I barely did anythin’ to ya’, how the hell are you spaced out already?” You open your mouth to answer, but he shoves your underwear between your lips, gagging you before you can speak. “Can you stay still and quiet for me? Or are y’gonna be a brat?”

His gaze locks on yours, narrowing your eyes back at him before spitting the fabric back out. “What d’you think?” Gator pushes your head out of his grip; you let your body collapse onto the bed with another whine, unsatisfied and still riled up.

Gator’s rummaging through a drawer somewhere, you’re too tired with a sour attitude to bother looking where he is, grumbling with disappointment. “Come onnnnnn, Gator. Let it go. We’re both too—“

“Up. Now.”

“No, I’m good here.”

“Yeah, I know you are, fuckin’ pillow princess.” He spanks you again, and you scoff, turning around to give him a piece of your mind, but any comebacks die before they even make it to your throat as your eyes land on him.

Gator’s wearing the camo pants you stole from him last week to enrage him and wind him up, and his work boots. There’s a bundle of satin black rope in his balled up fist that he throws onto the bed. He crouches down to the side of the bed you’re on, hand slipping gently into yours.

“You doin’ alright? Need anythin’?” You’ve been convinced he’s more of a sub than he realizes, but you’re impressed and taken aback at how good he is at taking care of you like a dom. You shake your head; it’s not enough to convince him. “We can stop. Or change direction, or whatever makes you feel good, darlin’. Gotta say it, though.”

“Um… remember last night I asked if you could make me forget everything? Even for a lil’ while?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah, just… I need it outta my head for a bit.” You gulp. Gator nods as he stands, fingers running through your hair in a soothing touch. “Can you behave?” The question makes you shrug playfully, the kind of reaction he expects. “C’mon, on the floor.”

“What’s the rope for?” You slide off the bed, kneeling in front of him, never breaking eye contact.

“Somethin’ else, baby. Can you multitask for me?”

“I guess.”

Gator leans down to you, squishing your face in his grip, again, avoiding your wound. His fingers are pushing your lips into a pout. “You’re the one who asked for a distraction.” He points out, and you’re sighing, defeated before your brat battle can even start.

“Yeah, fine. I can.” You glare as he lets go of your face, straightening up while unzipping his pants. It’s subtle, but you lick your lips, a subconscious reaction at this point whenever he’s exposed.

He slides a boot between your legs, nudging them open further while he frees himself, throbbing with desire already.

“You want me to—“

“I mean, if you don’t want to grind against something, we can stop.” Gator begins to slide his leg away, but you tug back, earning a quirked brow from him.

Shaking your head in a frenzy, you shift closer, sitting on the firm, leather material. It’s definitely not the softest thing you’ve felt on your clit, but it’s better than not being able to get off at all. Your hips roll carefully, unsure if it would hurt at first; it’s slightly rough, but it doesn’t feel bad. You can’t tell if it feels good because it actually feels good, or if you’re just that goddamn insatiable right now.

Gator has you subservient, ready to obey whatever orders he gives.

“If you needa’ stop and can’t talk, just, I dunno, punch my leg, or somethin’, got it?” You giggle at his suggestion but nod anyway. Carding fingers through your hair, he checks in again, “Hey, if this hurts,” He’s pointing to the injury, “you tell me, okay? Don’t want it splittin’ open again.”

“I got somethin’ else you could split open,” You tease, taking him in entirely at once. Gator sucks in a breath while your sly comment earns a firm movement between your legs; he’s pushing the top of his boot against your clit, causing your whimper to be strangled by his cock down your throat.

It takes a bit to find a steady pace and balance that works for you between grinding and sucking, but once you do, your thoughts begin floating away. No pain, no sadness, only you and Gator matter in this moment right now.

“You always take me so well, darlin’.” His praise drives you to push yourself fully onto his cock, tongue flat and broad on the underside, while his tip gags the back of your throat as precum drips out. While your mouth bobs on him, he’s mesmerized by how pretty your lips look around him. He thinks back to the night you two played that drinking game, how you took swigs of tequila straight from the bottle, and how blood rushed to his dick from the sight alone of how your pout puckered around something while occupied.

Gator’s hips stutter, causing you to gag as he thrusts unexpectedly. You pull back, lips swollen and red, practically drooling onto yourself while you try to keep pleasuring yourself, too. He notices the way his boot glistens when you grind back and forth, wondering if this would ruin the material for a moment, before realizing he doesn’t care, not one bit. Seeing you blissed out from humiliation is causing him to chase his climax faster than he wanted to.

You glide your tongue along the underside of his shaft, hand following to stroke him while you suck his balls slowly, humming as you do. The sensation makes him lightheaded; he grabs your hair for something to hold onto, but it’s not enough to steady him.

“Fuck… look at you, greedy lil’ thing…” Gator’s head falls back as you glide your tongue back up his shaft, sucking on the head while your tongue flits the top, collecting the salty arousal in your mouth before blowing him again. Your cheeks hollow out as your fingers play with his balls; Gator’s trying his best to not collapse on the spot, dirty talk still flowing, “See? All y’needed to stop brattin’ was your mouth filled up, make ya’ dumb by fuckin’ your face. You’re practically an angel when ya’ can’t talk. All that chokin’ and gaggin’ will do ya’ some good.”

Your body shudders over his words, your high rippling through you as you keep your pace, both with your hips and your mouth, but your repetitions begin to falter. You can’t help drooling around his cock while soaking the hard leather between your thighs.

“That’s right, cum on that boot like the filthy brat you are.” He’s watching you fall apart, eyes rolling back as you’re moaning around him. His face flushes red as he starts coming undone immediately after. You barely have a chance to relax as you come down from your high before he’s roughly fucking your face, letting out a low, gravelly groan; both of his hands are on your head, keeping you in place. You try to pull back, but he refuses to let go. “Just a lil’ longer, darlin’, you can do it.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and with one look up at Gator in this state, he’s gone, releasing into your mouth while your name falls from his lips. “Fuck, y’look so pretty when you cry.” The praise makes your stomach flutter as you swallow the thick saltiness on your tongue. Gator pulls out, trying to catch his breath; you move off of him, climbing onto the bed before pulling him on top of you.

He wraps his strong arms around you, still panting along with you. Little fleeting kisses are scattered across your face, then, he remembers your injury, sitting up with worry. “Baby, turn your head for me.” As you do, his gaze falls onto the small droplets of blood on the sheets. They’re fresh. His eyes dart back to you; it’s not bleeding like it did in the middle of the night, but it’s enough to send him into panic, again.

Gator jumps up from the bed, forgetting his pants were still around his ankles; he stumbles into the dresser, but catches himself in time before making his next destination on the floor. You’re leaning up, arms propped up on the bed behind you, giggling at everything. A little blood dribbles down your jaw from the cut, and Gator’s scrambling to untie his boots and get his pants off— a more logical idea would be pulling the pants back on, but his mind’s definitely clouded post climax.

“Fuckin’ hell, Gator. We’re a mess.” You rasp out, throat a little sore. He manages to get everything off, running to the bathroom before coming back, arms full of the random first aid items he has. He throws them onto the bed haphazardly before jumping back onto the mattress, turning your head.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was hurtin’?” Gator’s applying pressure, soaking up the small amount of blood. “You coulda’ stopped me.”

“Yeah, but it’s been hurtin’ since it happened. Thought I was just cryin’, that’s all. It’s okay.”

Gator gives you a stern look as he cleans the dried blood off again, while peeling back the bandages. “It won’t heal if you don’t let it.”

“I know, it just felt good makin’ you feel good.” You answer, still dazed and blissed out. “You’re funny, as soon as we’re done fuckin’ around, you turn into the safety police.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to hurt you. Fuck, I said y’look pretty when you cry, that wasn’t— god, m’such a fuckin’ moron,” Gator’s cursing and wincing at himself. His voice softens before he murmurs, “Gotta be brave again, okay, darlin’?”

“Okay. And y’know that was fine to say, right? It was kinda sweet in a fucked up way, and I know what we say to each other in bed doesn’t leave scenes.” You answer, distracting yourself from the initial sting with a follow up, “If you hurt me, it’s okay, y’know. If it’s part of a scene, you know I like it.”

Gator’s quiet as the burn of the rubbing alcohol gets harder to ignore.

“Do you not like it?” You ask, worried, turning your head sharply to search his expression. “Fuck, we don’t have to do anything, I’m so sorry if I made you un—“

“No, we’re usually on the same page… turn your head back,” You follow his order, and he continues disinfecting the wound. “I just think after last night, I’m havin’ a hard time separating the pain you went through and when you ask for it consensually. I know the difference between the two, but my mind keeps yellin’ at me that it’s wrong.”

“Then we can stop. We don’t ever have to even touch the harder stuff ever again.”

Gator shakes his head, opening new bandages, “Just give me a lil’ while, is that okay?”

“Of course, it’s always okay to stop if you need time. Or stop completely.”

“No… I like learnin’ new things from ya’, and exploring this kinda stuff. I wouldn’t want it with anyone else.” Gator’s determined to keep his touch light while he places butterfly bandages on your face again. “But I also love you, and wanna show that. I wanna protect ya’.”

“Gator, you already and continue to show me these things. You make me feel protected. We can take things slower if that’s easier.”

“It’d be hard, but right now at least, I- I-“

“Hey, it’s okay,” You’re hugging him tightly. “Do you need anythin’? You wanna just chill the rest of the day? Or do you need space? I can give you space, no problem.”

Gator hugs back in the way you love most, where he settles his head on top of yours, shielding you from everything wrong in your life when he wraps his arms around you.

“I appreciate ya’ askin’, angel. But I’m okay, and I should be taking care of you right now anyway.”

You’re shaking your head, still pressed against his chest. “Drops can happen for doms, too.”’

“I didn’t know that, but I promise, I’m okay right now. Thank you for lookin’ out for me.” Gator gathers the first aid supplies after letting you go, mindlessly tossing them onto a random surface in his room.

“I know we just woke up… and we were gonna keep going, but I’m so tired. Is it okay if I rest my eyes a little?”

“‘Rest your eyes’ okay, old lady.” Gator lightly teases, throwing some clean clothes on. “You can sleep, it’s okay. I… I have somethin’ I gotta do, are you okay with me leavin’ for a bit?”

“You’ll come back, right? Aren’t you afraid of your dad?” You don’t mean for the uncertainty and anxiety to be so bold in your question, but Gator can tell you’re worried.

“Honestly, terrified,“ He’s quick to answer, afraid to even speak it into existence, even if he’s always been afraid of Roy. “You’ll be safe here, promise.” You know he can’t promise that, and he can tell you’re not buying it. Gator asks, “I didn’t get to show ya’ gun safety stuff… but, you want one, just in case?”

“Your whole place is filled with them, so I’m good. Not like I’d know how to use one.” You cringe and shake your head. “Still scared of them, anyway.”

With brows raised and a scoff, Gator laughs at your logic, “But you want to try gun pl—“

“Totally different! Besides—“

Groaning as you get up, you lean over the bed to dig through your backpack, pulling out the tiniest knife, flicking it open to show Gator; it has a pastel pink handle, serrated edges, and the words ‘Mean Bitch’ engraved on the blade.

“— I’ll be okay, I have my knife in case!”

“Does that really say—“

“Shut up, I thought it was cute.” You grumble playfully, but curiosity sets in, with a hint of worry. “Where are you going?”

“Well, y’need better stuff for that cut, and the rest is a… surprise.” Gator grins at you, adding to your suspicions of what this ‘surprise’ is. He leans in to kiss your forehead before heading for the door. “I’ll be back, my phone’s on if ya’ need.”

As he’s about to leave, you softly call out, “Gator?”

“What’s up?” He stops, full attention on you, looking you over, making sure everything’s alright, at least for the moment.

Bunching up the blankets around your shoulders and curling into them, you smile, “I love you.”

Everything feels so unsure in this moment, hanging on the edge of whatever’s about to break next, between the fear of retaliation from either of your fathers, or how he’s going to handle the heartbreak of you leaving the next day. Everything feels unsure, except you.

Despite it all, with ease, he responds with sincerity, “Love y’too, darlin’.”

[honeyjars-sims]

3.15 Fitting In

Johnny was a couple of weeks into his new job and he was mostly feeling positive about it. He still felt like The New Guy, but he was starting to become more familiar with his coworkers. He knew by now that Clara and Robi were inseparable; cool-headed Robi often played the straight man to overzealous Clara which played out well on camera.

Lilly had a sister who also worked on set as a director. Flora, or Flo Flo as Lilly affectionately called her, had a goth vibe and was obsessed with vampires. Despite the dark clothing, she was just as bubbly as her sister.

Johnny spent the most time with Lacey due to the proximity of their work stations. She’d been kind enough to introduce him around and help him get acquainted with the building. She floated effortless between different social groups but was closest to Quinn.

While Lacey was a social butterfly, Quinn was more introverted. Lacey helped get Quinn set up with a private work area so she could have a place to write in peace. Johnny thought it was nice that the company was willing to accommodate her work style.

The one person whom Johnny hadn’t been seeing much of was his supervisor, Lucy. He’d taken on a few tasks, like distributing call sheets and schedules and making sure materials were properly stocked, but he still found himself without much to do during the day. He hung around some on set, learning about the equipment and the filming process.

At first he was happy with the downtime, but as he noticed Lucy was still running herself ragged around the studio all day he began to wonder if there was a reason she wasn’t delegating more tasks to him. If she and Damien had really seen potential in him, then why not let him take on more responsibilities? He decided to be proactive for once and talk to Lucy about it.

When he saw her walking out of her office, he sprinted down the hall to get her attention.

“Hey, Lucy!” he called and she turned to greet him.

“Oh, hi, Johnny,” she replied, nearly out of breath. “Is everything still going ok?”

“Yeah, it’s good. I’m feeling a little more like part of the team.”

“Great! I’m glad you’re liking it so far.”

“It seems like you’re in a rush, do you need me to do anything for you?”

“Oh, no!” Lucy waved her hand. “I don’t have that much to do. I’m just going to run over to the set and make sure the issue with the lighting is fixed. I’ll probably stop by editing on the way back to review some thumbnails, unless Damien still wants to discuss budgeting, in which case, I’ll-”

“Lucy,” Johnny interrupted. “It sounds like you need some help. At least let me check on the lighting for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lucy insisted. “It’s on my way.”

“Do you not trust me? Wait, you’re not one of those control freaks who thinks they’re the only ones who can do things right, are you?”

“No!” Lucy’s face reddened. “I know how to delegate, and I don’t want to be running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” She took a deep breath, relaxing for the first time that Johnny had seen since he started. “It’s just harder than I expected to be the one in charge. I’m a social person, but no one wants to sit with their boss in the break area, you know what I mean?”

“So you want…friends?” That wasn’t quite the explanation that Johnny had expected.

“I just don’t want to walk into a room and feel like everyone else is trying to look busy or they’re just being polite. I want my presence to be welcomed, not a burden.”

Johnny could relate to that sentiment. “So you thought if you gave me too much work, I would treat you like everyone else does.”

Lucy wrung her hands. “It sounds so stupid when you spell it out like that, but I guess so. You’re the first person who’s worked directly under me, so I didn’t want to put too much on you right off the bat.”

“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Johnny assured her. “It’s hard when you’re surrounded by people and still feel lonely. I’ll make you a deal. If you let me take on more duties, then I’ll talk you up to everyone.”

“You really think that will work?”

“Sure, I’m very charming. I’ll just tell everyone how chill you are and they’ll be like, ‘Well, if Johnny says she’s cool, then it must be true.’”

Lucy snorted. “I don’t think anyone’s going to believe that I’m chill at this point.”

“You’re probably right about that. I’ll think of something else.”

“Good deal. Thanks, Johnny.” Lucy turned and started walking away.

“You’re welcome . . . boss,” Johnny called behind her. He laughed when she raised a middle finger in the air in response.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[briocheminded]

19th century rabbit hole

Digging around for unrelated info led me down a funny Detective Anna rabbit hole (or a rabbit hole led me to Detective Anna? idk).

In s2 ep11, "The Last Sacrifice", Krutin poisons Anton and leads Shtolman on a scavenger hunt for the antidote. An early scene starts with a beggar (to use a 19th c word) reading a book out loud in the barracks (?), poor house (?). The cover is hard to see, but you can kind of make out "лать," leading me to assume it was Lenin's "что делать" in a kind of intentional/tongue-in-cheek anachronism, since the real book wasn't published until 1901.

BUT, come to find out today there was an earlier book called "что делать" / "What Is To Be Done?" published 1863, by Nikolay Chernyshevsky?? (Look, I've heard of him, ok) Sure enough, a closer look at the book cover and I'm pretty sure the last letters of the authors name are "вский"??

Two fun discoveries in that:

s2 ep13 "The Living Dead" was probably at least slightly inspired by the plot of the Chernyshevsky book, in which a man fakes his own death in order to let his wife marry his best friend with whom she has fallen in love. Doesn't seem like a huge stretch since s1's "The Drama" is very obviously (and meta-textually) "The Seagull."

Per Wikipedia, Chernyshevsky's novel was written as a direct response to Turgenev's "Fathers and Sons," which also features a love triangle, where the young woman/subject of the son's affection falls in love with the son's radical best friend. Except Turgenev's love triangle is resolved when the radical gets what he deserves (lol) and dies. This is all only relevant because Anton reveals Shtolman is reading "Fathers and Sons" when he's arrested in s1's "The Prince".

It's kind of interesting they have Shtolman reading that particular book. Maybe it's just period appropriate and famous? "Crime and Punishment" would be a little too on the nose, lol. It's also a family/romance melodrama, which obviously DA heavily relies on.

But there are other novels they could have chosen... the show very lightly (very lightly) touches on themes of tradition vs modernity. The very first episode features the arrival of a bicycle! Kluyev is bringing electricity to Zatonsk! And a phonograph! And of course, much more so in s2, where I assume by 1894 it's basically impossible to ignore the very serious social/economic/political issues of Tsarist Russia? So it makes sense that between Shtolman and Anna, being diametrically opposed in almost every way, he would be associated with a more traditional/conservative perspective (he literally represents law and order), where Anna is constantly aware of the plight of the poor, and women's subjugated status under patriarchy.

Annnnyway, rabbit hole indeed.

In closing, sharing this amusing thumbnail from imdb. Between the cross-faded images and the title, it looks like Shtolman is dead and visiting Anna as a ghost. Of course, still grumpy af.