#edit: and I say this as someone quite aware of where I fall on the spectrum

[sativaonsaturn]

venus observations

a leo venus is a passionate and dedicated lover - if you deserve it. the opposite energy will be presented if we believe we’re being taken advantage of because leo venus also can get the ick quite easily.

a leo venus also looooves to give gifts! the second a partner or a family member says “i wish” or “i need” leo already has the gift in their cart.

in true virgo nature, a virgo venus is pretty unwavering in their standards for a relationship. even if they choose to stay, virgo is still likely to nitpick if they’re unhappy. it’s recommended for them to look for what’s on their list and not for potential.

an aquarius venus makes such a great friend. any aqua placement is usually interested in humanity so it makes sense that they’d be fun loving and supportive and sociable (11th house).

similar to this, if your venus is in the 11th house you may want to be friends with someone before you date. you may not even realize you want a relationship with someone until you know they can be a good friend and you two have a solid bond.

a scorpio venus’ love is unmatched. their love is not just passionate, it’s profound, it’s intense. once they’ve established that you’re their person, they can’t see anyone else. some say that scorpio’s love is too much but i think the right person will feel safe and a real sense of belonging.

you cannot keep a sagittarius venus where they don’t wanna be. they can’t stay where feel stifled or codependent and they want to know that they’re experiencing as much life as they would if they were single. a sag venus will love a partner who can love them as deeply as they do while respecting their individuality.

a capricorn venus is serious about their love and in such a romantic way. if you want someone who will plan dates, buy your outfits, introduce you to family; cap is the one for you. however capricorn will not behave this way unless they see true potential/ a future.

pisces venus can be either flighty and detached or head over heels in love. this isn’t to say that they can’t ever find a balance but it takes awareness for them. pisces also tends to place expectations on those they love and become disappointed when they fall short.

someone w/ venus in the 4th house is typically in search of a partner who will make them feel at home. often are adamant about pursuing marriage and a feeling of security more than anything.

small edit: a leo venus also loves to receive gifts! especially thoughtful ones or ones w/ sentimental value. they like to feel like you were really considering them when you bought it

sativaonsaturn 🍃🪐

[septembersung]

Just me brooding about money, ignore and carry on.

I’ll be honest the whole “gift economy” thing even in grad school struck me as a huge cope. It is objectively cool and it’s proponents were sincere but also… It’s like when I was determined to do everything from scratch. Food making etc. Objectively cool and I was sincere as all get out but I also had lots of time and zero money. Now that I have a little money and no time at all… I don’t care as much. Poetry as gift and all the things made from scratch are worthy goals in and of themselves but also. Money matters. Time is finite. All the resources are finite and poetry by nature doesn’t fit into today’s economy. Which is a good thing! But then people try to make it fit and we get todays MFA culture. Which is… not a good thing. But anyway.

[midnightwriter21]

jjk hcs: satoru gojo meeting soulmate!reader

characters: satoru gojo x reader, mentions of megumi, yuji, nobara, and principal yaga

warnings: language, mentions of a giant spider

AN: AS PROMISED!!! the soulmate gojo fic!! i’m a sucker for non-sorcerer!reader x gojo. so if u want a version with a sorcerer reader lmk!!!

edit: sorcerer!reader version is published!! read it HERE

- soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed in their handwriting somewhere on your body!!!

SATORU GOJO

you’re working at a small, family-run cafe

which just so happens to be quite close to jujitsu high school

it’s quite often that students and staff from the school are stopping at the cafe for a quick snack, coffee, and sometimes lunch

and due to an unfortunate run in with a low grade curse during a rush, you are very aware of the jujutsu world

principal yaga himself exorcised the curse when he was on his lunch break at the cafe

usually you’re working in the kitchen, baking, whilst someone else takes orders

until a coworker of yours calls in sick at the last minute… so ur on ur own rip

taking orders, cooking, serving, all of the above on your own

the 3 first year jujutsu high students, megumi, yuji, and nobara come into the cafe after a mission

they place their orders and megumi tells you that their sensei would be joining them shortly, with yuji letting you know that their sensei would also be picking up the bill

as if it would even put a dent in gojo’s wallet

anyways after taking their orders you walk into the kitchen to begin making their food and drinks

as you get to work, gojo walks into the cafe, joining his students at their table

you’re rushing around the kitchen, flour stuck to the font of your shirt, hair sticking out in different directions

trying to get the food cooked and out to them in a timely manner

and the world is just not on your side today because guess what shows up in your kitchen…

a cursed spirit

but not any cursed spirit

a cursed spirit in the form of a spider

a GIANT spider with what seems like a million eyes, the 8 legs, kinda furry looking

oh and did i mention it was giant? by giant I mean it stood at abt 6ft tall

two words: hell. nah.

when you turn away from the stove and find it standing behind you

you, like any normal person, let out an eardrum shattering screech of terror and back away from it as fast as possible

backing yourself into the corner of the room, with no room to escape…

the 3 first years and their sensei hear your scream and spring into action, running into the kitchen to defend you

that’s a lie

the 3 first years run to defend you

their sensei takes his time, sauntering towards the kitchen with his hands in his pockets

bastard

the kitchen door slams open as the 3 first years spring through the door, with yuji pouncing on the curse

the pink haired boy delivers a heavy punch, knocking the spider curse away from you

you take the chance to run

yeah girl it’s better to give them their space fr, yuji has a habit of punching through walls with his bare hands

you run through the door, looking behind you towards the scene, and you run head first into what feels like a brick wall

before you fall onto your ass, you feel two large hands latch onto your shoulders to steady you

“woah! don’t go falling for me already.. we just met.”

you look up at the voice, finding a man with stark white hair, a blindfold, and a cocky smirk

adrenaline coursing through your body you don’t even process the man’s words and you find yourself babbling almost unintelligibly to the man

“kill it! please kill it! i can’t stand spiders!”

the mans grip on your shoulders tighten slightly before he releases you, pushing you behind him, chuckling quietly with a “anything for you, sweetheart”

and with the flick of his wrist the spider curse literally explodes

staring at the tall man in both shock and awe, you don’t realize until you smell smoke

“THE FOOD IS BURNING SHIT!” and your running back into the kitchen to see if anything is salvageable

it’s not lol but honestly the food is the last thing on anyone’s mind

as you throw the ruined food away, the same hands from earlier sit themselves on your shoulders again, turning you around

“so… if i’m gonna actually get you to fall for me, i’m gonna need your number.” and there’s a phone thrust in your face

and at his words you remember his earlier statement to you, “woah! don’t go falling for me already.. we just met.”

you look up at him in shock, putting a hand on your forearm, over your soulmate mark with those exact words covering your skin

and he just smirks and pulls the sleeve of his uniform up to show you his own forearm

and printed in your own handwriting is your terror filled words from earlier, “kill it! please kill it! i can’t stand spiders!”

as the blush crawls up your neck and into your cheeks he laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulders and saying, “so.. does this mean I get free sweets from now on?”

[olderthannetfic]

Genuine question: what's the point of writing fanfic? As in, what's the purpose? No one in the fandom I'm in comments on fics and I even got told off by one person for doing so, as it "encourages bad writers and makes them think they're good". So it seems that it's a lot like book writing, where people work hard and are creative, but instead of getting paid and getting comments on the work, you just sit there silently hoping someone will press the kudos button and make a number go up. I feel like that time and work could be better spent on making something you might get some kind of profit off of. Don't get me wrong, I love doodling fanart, but I don't post it, as I'm aware that there's no point to doing so, and while it's a nice way to fill the time on a commute, it's not something that takes me as much time and effort as fanfic does. So... why do people bother? Sometimes I describe ideas I have and people I know in my fandom will tell me I should write it, but I don't see why. I get more interaction from just saying "imagine if [thing here]" than I would by sitting down, writing for hours, editing and posting [thing here], so what would the point be? I'm not punching down or going "haha women and their fanfic lol!", I genuinely do not get what the point is and this blog feels like it might have someone reading who knows the answer.

--

Do you make art for profit? Genuine question.

There's nothing inherently wrong with being motivated primarily by external factors, but it's not actually why a lot of people create things, whether it's books or recipes or doodles in a notepad.

I enjoy the actual process of writing.

I think many people lose sight of that aspect in an era where tons of <500-word fics that are mostly outlines and "Imagine if..." posts get disproportionate attention for being easy to consume. But the satisfaction of doing a bigger art piece and doing it right is real and motivates a hell of a lot of creation.

I suppose you might be thinking "Okay, but why not just write it alone and never post?", but I like sharing. Showing off my finished creation is part of the joy, and sharing with other people like me is too. But those aren't quite the same thing as worrying about kudos. It's like dressing nicely when you leave the house because you feel great when you know you look good vs. needing another person to tell you you look good.

To be honest, though, this type of feeling has grown in me the better I've gotten at a craft. The closer my finished projects get to the vision in my head, the easier it is to find them fulfilling and to be excited to share them. When I fall short of my own ambitions, it's discouraging no matter how much attention I might get from others.

I feel like it's time for my regular reblog of Adam Westbrook's video essay series The Long Game.

The third and least known in the series is all about this idea of who you're making art for if you're not getting material rewards in the short term. It talks a lot about autotelicity—being internally driven instead of externally.

--

But if you really just want clicks, anon, start a blog that accepts anon asks and posts about wanky stuff. Actually tag things, unlike me, so people can find you.

No, writing for attention isn't worth it.

The time investment is too great and your brain will always fixate on the times people didn't respond instead of the times they did.

But that's not actually why most people write.

[alice1505]

I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.

• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????

• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????

• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???

• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.

• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)

• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍‍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)

• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.

There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.

Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂

[beneathstarryskies]

Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are? (Dante x Reader)

Warnings: fem!reader, oral sex (f receiving), smut, creampie, attempted sexual assault (not by Dante, he saves the reader), alcohol, whiskey dick, maybe yandere themes if you squint, NOT EDITED, post DMC2 Dante Words: 4,936 A/N: This has been on my google docs forever and finally with the encouragement of @actuallysaiyan I finally finished it. (i swear to Sparda she's the only reason y'all get content from me because she just encourages me so much all the time to write the things i wanna write so shout out to Bacon for being amazing.)

Every night feels the same. Ever since Vie de Marli and returning from the underworld, Dante has scoured the local bar scene in search of simple distractions. All he needs is little chunks of time where he can feel pleasure and just not think. In those moments when he’s chasing release, he doesn’t have to remember that he killed his own brother or think about the never-ending cycle of demonic chaos being unleashed. He takes and takes and takes all he can from anyone who is willing to give it to him.

Dante has gotten quite good at picking out the right people to pursue. The ones who won’t care if he goes to their place instead of inviting them to his and won’t put up a fuss when he sneaks off in the morning, assuming he bothers to spend the night at all. Sometimes he even got lucky enough to meet someone who doesn’t even care if they exchange names, much less go somewhere more private. 

Tonight was one of those nights. All he had to do was buy her one drink and she was giggling as she dragged him to the bathroom. He couldn’t believe the lack of self-awareness she had for the way other’s judged her for the display. He stumbles behind her, having indulged in more drinks than usual tonight. His vision is so blurry he can hardly make out the details of her face as she pushes him against the bathroom wall and kisses him sloppily. He doesn’t quite like the way her tongue tastes against his, but it doesn’t matter in the end. They won’t see each other again. 

“Did ya lock the door?” he slurs. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she giggles. “Everyone saw us come in here.” 

He leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes as her hands drag down his chest. The kisses she places on his neck are mostly tongue. He tries to ignore the cold sensation from the air hitting the wet spots she leaves on his skin. He opens his eyes again when she pulls away. She’s sinking to her knees in front of him and he wonders if he should feel guilty for having her kneeling on the sticky floor. 

‘She put herself there,’ he thinks dismissively. 

Her fingers fumble with his belt buckle to the point that he becomes impatient and pushes her hand away so he can open it himself. She giggles out a quick thanks before tugging his pants off his hips. Once again he rests his head against the wall and lets his eyes flutter closes. His head is spinning right now. 

He’s only vaguely aware of the feeling of her tongue swirling over the tip of his cock. A soft sigh escapes him but he is otherwise quiet as she sets to work. He tangles his hand in her hair, and this makes her pull away with a scoff. 

“Don’t fuck up my hair,” she whines. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles and catches a whiff of the whiskey on his breath. He lets his hand fall to the side without looking at her. She licks his tip again and starts stroking his cock. 

Dante is waiting for that tingling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it never happens. He doesn’t feel a damn thing. She stands up suddenly. 

“I don’t wanna do this,” she says as she straightens her skirt. 

“Wait–” 

She rolls her eyes, “You’re not even getting hard, dude.” 

Dante looks down and discovers with no small amount of exasperation that she’s right. He’s not even half hard. He tucks himself back into his pants before leaning off the wall. He walks over to the sink beside her where she’s fixing her makeup so he can splash water on his face. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” the girl says. 

‘Except to that group of obnoxious friends who probably put you up to this to start with,’ he wants to say but doesn’t. Instead he just nods absently. 

He’d be humiliated if he cared enough about this situation. He leaves the bathroom before her and finds a spot at the end of the bar to sit, as far from everyone else as he can get. 

“You look like you could use this,” a soft voice says before passing a glass of water to him. You offer a comforting smile as he glances through a curtain of white hair at you. 

“Thanks,” he sighs. 

“Do you need me to call you a cab or something?” you ask him. 

“Nah,” he takes a sip from the water. “I’ll walk.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He growls, “Whaddya care?” 

You’re taken aback by the shift in his demeanor, and you pull back. You weren’t much for the party scene, but sometimes you come out for a drink after a long day. You’d always see him in here. Usually he left with someone, but sometimes he didn’t. He seemed more and more jaded every time. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “Uhm, just make sure you drink the water before you leave.” 

You return to your small group of friends. You wish you’d listened to them and just left it alone.

_

A few nights later, in the same bathroom he finds more success. This time he’s even managed to get the nameless woman bent over the sink. One hand is clasped over her mouth to keep her quiet as he pounds into her. He doubts she’s enjoying it half as much as she’s trying to sound. If she is, it’s completely by coincidence because he’s not trying. Not at all. He’s too busy chasing his own high. 

The proof of her lack of enjoyment comes when he groans a warning that he’s close. She’s pleading behind his palm for more, but it’s too late. Before she has a chance to reach her own peak, he’s pulling out to get out of the condom. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she gasps. 

“What?” Dante raises his eyebrow, “I told you I was close.” 

“Asshole,” she mutters as she pulls her dress down. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he kisses her cheek. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Your call,” he shrugs before leaving the bathroom. 

You try not to look at him when he walks out of the bathroom. A strange mix of disgust and pity fills you up. Why do you care so much? You ask yourself that every time you’re here. Maybe it’s some deluded sense of jealousy because he’s never tried to pick you up. 

That doesn’t mean Dante hasn’t noticed you. Ever since the night you brought him a glass of water, he’s done everything he can not to notice you. You sounded so genuinely concerned, and it filled him with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. He looks forward to Friday nights just so he can catch a glimpse of you. You’re usually with a group of friends, and in his imagination you’re the crown jewel of your friend group. The proof to him is the way they all smile when you do, that big infectious smile that lights up the whole bar. He tries to imagine the clever things you must say to make them all laugh. He’s seen the softer moments to. When one of your friends drinks too much, you’re the one escorting them to the bathroom to throw up or making sure they get home safe. 

He wants to say something to make you smile. He wants you to make him laugh like you do for your friends. Part of him wants to get shit-faced again just to see if you’ll take care of him and fill him with that warm feeling in his chest again. He can’t touch your life, he knows that. He’ll ruin it all if he does. So, he watches from the sidelines and selfishly hopes you never find a reason not to come back here. 

Tonight is a little different. You seem upset about something, but you’re trying to stay the jewel. You’re trying to smile, but there’s sadness behind it. The drinks are disappearing quicker than usual. He’s only ever noticed you having one or two, but tonight the table in front of you is littered in glasses. 

There’s a moment when he sees something snap in you, and you stand up suddenly. You’re starting towards the door, making hand motions to your friends to indicate for them to stay behind. He can’t believe they’re listening to you. 

‘Don’t go alone,’ he thinks. ‘Don’t…’

You stumble outside by yourself. His blood runs cold when a man follows behind you. Dante is bolting from the barstool before he has a moment to think about it. He’s outside and rounding the corner into the alleyway when he hears your small, soft voice slurring. 

“Leave me alone,” you whine. “Just leave me alone.” 

You’re pressed against the wall and the man is standing in front of you with both hands on the wall to block your exits. 

“Come on, just loosen up,” he tries to coax you. 

“Leave me alone,” you repeat pathetically. Your eyes widen when Dante’s large hand comes to the man’s shoulder, and he pulls him away from you effortlessly. 

“Get outta here,” Dante growls. 

The man puffs his chest up, “What are you? Her boyfriend?” 

“Just beat it,” Dante warns. “Don’t make me hurt you.” 

The man rolls his eyes, “From what I hear you can’t even get it up, so you’re not much of a man are ya–” 

Dante shoves the man hard enough for him to fall to the ground nearly a yard away. The man yelps and tries to stumble to his feet while screaming obscenities at Dante, who doesn’t even hear him anymore. He’s already turning to you. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dante’s hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks. His thumbs wipe the stray tears off your cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” you sniffle softly. You look up at him, into the clearest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Your heart races, “I just wanted to get some air.” 

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dante soothes you. 

“Thank you,” you say and then there it is, that sweet smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were like a knight in shining armor.”

“You think you know better?” he smirks. 

“You’re trouble in a red coat.” 

Dante chuckles and it feels nice. You’re something different, something special. He’s so happy he was keeping an eye on you so he could get to you before that guy could do anything to hurt you. 

“Don’t knights get rewarded for good deeds?” 

“Ah, but I decided you’re too much trouble to be a knight,” you remind him. 

“Right, right.” 

“But, uhm,” you blush before leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Affection blossoms in his chest. You’re slipping past him before he’s had time to come to terms with what’s happened. 

“Wait,” he calls out, “What’s your name?” 

You let a mischevious smile tug at your lips, “What do you care?” 

His heart races as he chases you into the bar again. He wants to follow you to your table and get your name. He wants to hear his coming from your sweet voice. He wants to make you giggle and smile. Maybe if he were to play his cards right, you’d give him a kiss. A real one. He knows, fuck he knows, that he could get so much more from any of these girls if he played his cards right but it wouldn’t feel warm like when you kissed his cheek. He’d sacrifice anything –everything– just to kiss you. 

He loses his nerve when you sit down at your table again with your friends. They all ask about you, and he hears you give a half-hearted excuse but not telling them the truth. Your eyes fall on him, and he’s sure there’s a hopefulness in them. You want him to be by your side too, but your friends are so close. He’d have to say something, anything to them to avoid looking like a creep. The script he’s trying to write in his mind for how that would go is just a blank white slate behind his eyes. 

So, he smiles. It’s a shy, half-hearted smile just for you. His bangs cover his eyes as he turns away from you. Your heart drops when he walks away. 

_

It’s been two weeks. Dante is there, every night, perched in his seat at the bar holding his breath as he waits for you to come through the door. You never do. His heart breaks more every night he doesn’t see you, and in the depths of his heart he can’t help ruminating on things touched but never held. On love that was in his reach but he let it go…

He doesn’t blame you, of course, if you’ve decided to give up the night life here. You’re not a dumb woman, so you certainly knew what would’ve happened to you that night if Dante hadn’t been there. Maybe you didn’t want to risk it anymore, but fuck Dante missed you. He didn’t even know your name but he missed you just as truly as if it was written on his heart. 

He’s given up, but only on the surface. Deep inside he’s in mourning. He tries to pick up girls again, return to his old life but he can’t. Every smile he’s given seems cold compared to yours. Just thinking about you makes something burn inside of him. He’s not sure if there’s some sort of devil instinct attached to this, after all his father was long gone before he could educated his sons on the ways being half-devils may change them. 

Dante is pretty sure he’s going crazy. He thinks he sees you everywhere he goes. He’s gotten so used to this phenomenon, he doesn’t believe it when he actually does see you. He blinks a few times, trying to clear the false image from his vision but he can’t. Instead you’re getting closer, and then you’re smiling. He realizes it’s really you when your hand rests ontop of his. 

“Hello stranger,” you smile softly. You’re trying to seem casual, but Dante can sense something else underneath it. Truthfully, you haven’t quite been able to get him off your mind for weeks. There was something about him that stuck with you. 

“Dante,” he breaths out. “My name is Dante.” 

You laugh, and he feels his heart racing in his chest from the beautiful sound. You sit down on the stool beside him and take his hand. You tell him your name shyly. It feels sort of silly to just be exchanging names with a man you’ve wondered a couple times throughout the weeks if you’d somehow fallen in love with. He repeats your name in a soft whisper. Dante is so happy to see you he almost feels like he could cry. Without a moment’s hesitation, he leans over to kiss you. You gasp against his mouth, and for a second he’s terrified you’re going to pull away. 

You don’t. Your hand cradles the back of his head gently, and you’re the one who deepens the kiss. Your plump, soft lips move against his like heaven. All the noise in the bar is muffled to his ears, and it’s like the two of you are the only people in the whole world. You’re cheeks are heating up as the realization hits you, and you pull away shyly. 

“I, uhm…” you swallow hard. “I’ve been thinking about you.” 

He chuckles and kisses your cheek before nuzzling his nose against the curve of your neck. You hadn’t expected him to be so affectionate, but you’re really loving it. It feels so good and so right. 

“I’ve been thinking about you too, baby,” he confesses. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

He presses a kiss on your neck and runs his hand up your back. You shudder softly, but lean closer to him. You only came here tonight in hopes of seeing him again. 

“Walk me home?” you ask, with the slightest lilt that hints to Dante that you want more. 

“Of course.” 

He quickly pays his tab, and then he grabs your hand to lead you out of the bar. As you begin leading him in the direction of your apartment, the two of your chat. Dante hangs onto every word that comes out of your pretty mouth. You tell him all about how you’d gone out of town for a little bit, and you spent the whole time wondering if you’d see him when you got back. You tell him about your job, your life, your friends. Every thing that makes your life colorful and full, and he hopes you’ll count him amongst those things. He’s never felt like this before. When he’s first taken to you, he was so determined not to touch your life and soil it. Now he’s hoping more than anything in the world to be welcomed with open arms. 

Finally, you lead him to the front door and you don’t even ask if he wants to come in. You just open the door and welcome him. He follows you without a second thought. The apartment smells like strawberry cream, and it makes him sigh happily. You close the door behind you and lock it back up. As soon as you’re in reach, Dante is grabbing your waist to pull you close to him. Your noses rub together before kissing so softly. Dante truly can’t believe his luck. 

“Baby, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m so happy.” 

You laugh, “I didn’t think you were so smitten. I mean, you never made a move…” 

“I didn’t think you’d have me,” Dante confesses. He kisses you again, “You’re too good for me.” 

“Hm, I think I can decide that for myself,” you chuckle. “Come here, let’s sit down.” 

You take his hand to walk him to the couch. You kick off your shoes before sitting down. Dante peels off his coat, and tosses it onto a nearby chair then he joins you. He moves in as close as he can with squishing you, and his breath is on your neck. You shiver from the tickle of air, then whine when his lips press against the same spots. Dante can’t remember the last time he cared whether he was bringing someone pleasure or not, but right now all he can think about is making you feel good. You rub his thigh and melt under his affections. Between his kisses on your neck, he’s whispering softly about how much he’s thought about touching you like this. 

“You’re so sweet,” you say softly. 

“What? Me? No, I–”

“You’re a puppy,” you tease him. 

“Hey! Don’t think–”

“A sweetheart,” you say before silencing his argument with a passionate kiss. 

Dante moans as you push yourself closer until you’re straddling his lap. His cock is straining against his pants, and you can’t help grinding against the firm bulge. Dante’s fingertips dig into your hips on instinct, and he keeps guiding you to grind against him. 

“Baby, you’re gonna get me all worked up,” he growls against your mouth. 

“I hope so,” you nip at his bottom lip. 

A low, rumbling growl rolls through his throat. In one quick motion, he has you on your back. His eyes almost seem to glow with the intensity of the passion burning inside. His hands are spreading your thighs and pushing your dress up before you fully comprehend the movement. It was so fast. 

“Let me–,” somehow with your pretty eyes staring up at him, he can’t bring himself to say anything crude as he would before with others. He swallows hard as he tries to think of a sweeter way to put it, “I need to taste you, please.” 

“Okay,” you blush. “I-I want you to.” 

As Dante tugs your panties off, you’re panting with desperate lust heavy in your lungs. He presses kisses on your inner thighs and you can feel his teeth scraping against your skin as he resists the urge to mark you up so soon. He spreads your thighs a little more, stopping only once to make sure you’re still comfortable with everything before kissing your mound. You gasp softly at the first contact, and the need erupts in your belly for more. Every breath Dante lets out tickles your folds in the most torturous tease you could imagine. 

“Please,” you whine finally. 

Dante smirks up at you but doesn’t leave you wanting any longer. His fingers spread your wet folds, and he lets out a satisfied hum. 

“So pretty, baby,” he whispers. “So fucking pretty.” 

His tongue pushes against your hole, teasing it a little before licking from your hole to your clit. A greedy groan falls from him as he tastes your sweet juices. That’s all it takes for Dante to give in to every bit of hunger he’s pushed down from the first moment he ever saw you. He’s lapping and slurping at your pussy like it’s the last thing he will ever taste. Truth be told, he’d be quite happy if your pussy was the only taste lingering on his tongue for the rest of his days. 

He has you right where he wants you too. Your back is arched against the sofa and your hands are tangled in his hair. You’d been so cute and shy at first, trying to hold back your noises. That had quickly changed when he had you coming undone the first time. As he lapped at you through the dull ache of overstimulation to force you toward a second climax, you started letting out desperate moans that would make a pornstar blush. You were begging for release, for more, and pleading for mercy all at the same time. Dante doesn’t stop until you’re so tensed up from the overstimulation that he can’t tell if you’re still breathing. 

“You still with me, angel?” he asks softly after lifting his head from between your thighs. 

You look down at him, cheeks burning at the sight of your juices glistening on the stubble across his face, then let out the breath you’d been holding. 

“I’m still here.” 

Dante chuckles softly before sitting up between your legs. There you are, laying underneath him all teary eyes and burning cheeks with your dress a wrinkled mess with the front pulled down past your tits and the skirt pushed over your hips. You look like a dream come true. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. You almost tease him for being soft, but the sincerity in his eyes makes you stop. Instead, you’re reaching out to let one hand rest on his waist and the other reaches for his cheek. He kneels down to meet the touch, purring softly at the way your hand feels so soft against his cheek. 

“I don’t understand why we’re so drawn to each other,” you confess shyly. 

“Me neither,” Dante sighs. “I just don’t want to fight it anymore.”

He carefully leans over you so he can catch your lips in a passionate kiss. He hopes more than anything that you can feel his emotions through this kiss. You’ll know how serious he is about this. He wants to be better for you. Maybe you can be a reason for him to keep living. 

You moan softly against his mouth and grab the hem of his shirt. You pull away from the kiss just long enough to peel off his thin black shirt and toss it aside. Goosebumps prick his skin when you drag your hands down his body. Your fingertips curl through his chest hair, following it to the strip that goes down the front of his pants. Dante grunts when you cup his cock through his pants. You palm at him gently before pulling out of the kiss, your eyes are so heavy and dark with lust as you look up at him. 

“I want you,” you say so confidently but he can see it wavering when he’s too speechless to answer right away. “Please.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dante breathes out. He can’t believe someone is looking at him that way; with such tender affection and genuine desire. He rubs his nose against yours before kissing you softly, “You’ll have me.” 

Dante can feel the urgency in the way you grind against him, and pitifully plea for him. He had hoped to take a little more time to undress each other and kiss, but he can feel your neediness affecting him too. His cock is just aching as you keep rubbing it through his pants. He finally opens his belt and pushes his pants down past his ass. His erection slaps against his abdomen when it’s free. The red, swollen tip glistens with his arousal and it makes your mouth water. He’s definitely bigger than you’d expected, and Dante can see the sudden hesitation on your face. 

“I’ll be gentle, sweetheart,” he promises. “Or we can stop if you–” 

“No!” your cheeks burn from your own urgency. “I don’t want to stop.” 

“Good, I don’t want to either.” 

He slots himself between your thighs and grasps his cock. You whine when he drags the leaking tip up and down your slit. Little jolts of pleasure go through you every time the head catches on your swollen clit. Finally, he settles at your entrance and slides into you slowly. You whine as inch by inch fills you up. Dante is tense from resisting the urge to just slam into you. 

Finally, he bottoms out with one last thrust. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you take a deep, shaky breath as you try to adjust to being so full. Dante’s thumbs draw little circles on your hips and his forehead rests against yours. Deep inside of you, he’s twitching with the need to start moving but he won’t move a muscle until you’re ready for him. Your little pussy is already being pushed to the limit just having him inside. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks gently. 

“N-no,” you swallow hard. “I just…I’ve never been this full.” 

“You feel so good, baby,” he kisses you sweetly. “It’s so tight.” 

There’s a gentle silence that falls over the two of you as you adjust to this sudden intimacy. You share soft kisses and honeyed words until you finally tell Dante what he wants to hear. 

“I’m ready.” 

Dante’s thumb drags against your hip again, “Yeah? You sure?” 

“Yes, please baby.” 

Dante guides your legs to wrap around his waist, then he’s rocking his hips. It’s a slow, easy pace at first. He just wants you to get used to the feeling of him moving inside of you since he’s probably fucking you deeper than anyone ever had. He doesn’t want to hurt you at all. He just wants to make you feel so good, and he’s starting to see that it’s working. Your skin is becoming hotter against his, and those pretty eyes are just glazed over with lust as you look down to watch Dante rock into you. Your hands move from his hair to gently rub down his back, then they rest on his hips. 

“Is it feelin’ good, baby?” Dante asks softly. Your eyes are so dazed when you look up at him. Your pretty lips hang open slightly. 

“Really good,” you gasp. 

“Want me to go a little faster?” 

“Harder,” you plead, making Dante chuckle. 

“Alright, baby,” he grabs your thighs to pull you closer then your ankles are resting on his shoulders. 

He gives you a few slow thrusts to get used to the new angle, but then he’s giving in to what you both want. Cries of love and passion fill your apartment as he pumps into your quivering walls. He grips your thighs hard enough to leave fingertip bruises on your skin. Your wet skin slaps and your hole squelches with his quick, hard thrusts. 

“Fuck, Dante!” you cry out. “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Good girl,” Dante praises. “Come on, then. Cum for me.” 

Your couch squeaks and groans from Dante’s passionate pace. He lets his thumb start rubbing your clit, and you’re pushed over the edge. Heated waves of pleasure flow over your skin, leaving your vision clouded with static as you ride it out. Dante can’t hold back with the way you’re squeezing around him. You’re still in the throes of pleasure when he cums too. His cock throbs with every thick rope of cum. 

“Shit,” you sigh as you come down from your orgasm.

Dante gives in to the weakness of his legs and sits on his knees with his cock still pushed inside of you. He presses a soft kiss on your ankle and you playfully tap his cheek with your toe. He caresses you lovingly, still not quite convinced this isn’t a dream. 

“Would you believe me if I said I’m crazy about you?” he asks. 

“Yeah, of course,” you giggle. “I’m kind of crazy about you too. Even though we learned each other’s names like 2 hours ago.” 

Dante gently pulls out of you and finesses his way into laying on the couch with you on his chest. He presses a kiss on your forehead and runs his fingers through your hair. 

“I feel like I’ve known you forever. You’re so…I don’t know, magnetic feels corny to say.” 

You giggle as you look up at him, “I’ll happily keep you company while you figure it out.”

[nattikay]

I have a question. There are carved scenes in avatar 1 where Tsu'tey drink with Jake and tell him that he is ugly + Mo'at say his eyes too smal, it must mean that he doesn't attractive for na'vi BUT when he and Neithiry near with Eywa she offers him chose a women, specific women (best singer or hunter), Neithiry think that he can be attractive for these women. The question is how do you think does Jake attractive in Na'vi eyes?( Sorry for mistakes, not my first language)

so as far as avatars looking a little uncanny to the Na'vi, someone a while ago did this edit that might give you a better idea of what the effect would be:

that's more or less what the Omatikaya experience when Jake pulls up for the first time. He's not necessarily ugly per se, just kinda...off. Tsu'tey calling him "ugly" in that scene seems mostly in jest, and even if it is thoroughly genuine, Tsu'tey especially in the beginning was not exactly Jake's biggest fan: "you look a bit weird" and "I don't like you" can very easily combine into "holy crap you're ugly" lol

As far as attraction goes, that's one of those things that's kinda in the eye of the beholder, and can change over time. It's very possible that Neytiri did find Jake's appearance to be rather off-putting at first, but then started to find him more attractive over time as she got to know him better (finding someone increasingly attractive as you fall in love with them is quite normal, in fact).

When she brings up Ninat and Peyral as potential mates for Jake, I don't think she meant that those two in particular would specifically find him attractive. At that point in the story she's very much fallen for Jake but doesn't quite dare consider becoming his mate a legitimate possibility. She is, after all, technically still engaged to Tsu'tey (a fact that Jake is aware of), and even if that weren't the case she doesn't really have any real confirmation at that point that the attraction is mutual; they've never exactly talked about it. Officially-speaking he is essentially just her former apprentice: "ok, I was assigned to teach you our ways, I've done that, you are now considered a full-fledged member of the Omatikaya, I guess my job and therefore our required involvement is done. You can take a mate now, here's some options [because it can't be/you probably don't want it to be me (internal sad face)]."

and then when Jake subtly asserts that yes actually he is definitely very much into her, Neytiri is like !!!!!!😮😊 oh ok yeah i'm actually into you too!!!

so tl;dr is Jake considered attractive to the Na'vi despite being an avatar: it probably depends on the individual but he certainly is to Neytiri and that's the important part lol ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[staybabblingbaby]

SKZ x Coordi (Chan Part) a1 d4

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader is a successful makeup artist with a notorious and prolific career and no self awareness. Reader joins JYP as a part of Stray Kids' team and encounters their hazing ritual for new coordis: flirting.

Word Count: 640

Notes: This feels more like a drabble than a full part, but I don't really want to add much to it either lol. As everything else, could use some editing for clarity. Maybe better descriptions or transitions? Idk, We'll think abt it later :p

Warnings: None that I know of? Reader has weird self esteem but it's not bad? Reader referred to with She/Her pronouns

Masterlist link :D | Prev Part Link <3 | Next Part Link ;3

The next few weeks pass by in a pattern of work and sleep with no real reprieve. It’s an excellent thing that you enjoy your work and that your coworkers are all very nice.

Ji-Won has you rotating between shadowing the various makeup artists on your team and doing little pieces of whatever look is being put together on each idol. You learn a lot about which shades match best with who’s skin tones and which sorts of styles are generally expected for which member. You don’t think you’ve ever been so thoroughly educated on a specific person’s face before. You’re usually in a whole other country by now.

You get this very thorough rotating education because the role you were hired for was to be a bit of a floater, to fill in where you’re needed. On the other makeup artist’s days off, you’ll be filling in. If someone calls off or the team needs a spare set of hands, that’s your job. You find that it suits you well.

Usually you move pretty quickly between jobs, always on the hunt for the next look, for new knowledge, for new adventures. Right now, though, you’re glad that you’ve stopped a while. Eight lovely faces to gain familiarity with, a variety of different projects to create for, and coworkers who seem very eager to teach and work with you.

You're having a great time and find yourself very glad you'd chosen this route for your career. You will admit that this little game that’s developed between you and the idols is possibly a very large factor.

It stemmed from Han’s little flirtation that first day, of course. The eonni who’d borne witness to it had congratulated you for your composure and explained that SKZ has always had a little game of flustering new coordis to break the ice. Their own form of gentle hazing, she tells you. It helps new coordis not be so nervous around them and, she tells you with a conspiratorial whisper, her personal theory is that it also tells them which coordis they have a chance with. You’re not sure how much you believe that part.

She went on to mention that she was surprised Ji-Won had allowed them to do it though, since your head stylist had been adamant that the whole team be on their best behavior with you. She hadn’t seemed to notice your confusion at her statement, so you chalked it up to Ji-Won doing her best to make the new stylist comfortable. She’d completed her explanation by telling you to expect the other seven to attempt it too before they’d stop.

When, the very next day, Chan prevents you from falling flat on your face and dropping towels everywhere and, like he couldn’t quite help himself, asks if this means you’d fallen for him, you decide that this means war. He immediately bursts into embarrassed giggles and you laugh along but internally you’re planning your retaliation.

As he releases you, still embarrassed with himself, and you steady yourself, you give the most obvious once over you can. As you meet his eyes again, taking in his already embarrassed face and reddening ears, you smile, making sure to lace it with the humor the situation deserves. And then, because you’re a bit of an asshole and you’d never denied that, you gently pat his arm, let the touch linger just a bit, and say “You’re cute. Thanks for the hand.” and walk off with a little nod in his direction before he can remember he’s older than you and technically your boss.

You hear a little pained whimper of embarrassment from behind you and mentally fist pump. Coordis - 2, SKZ - 0. And you’d gotten away with some blatant disrespect just then. It’s always a treat to let social niceties die.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Hello! I just want to start out by saying, don’t feel bad if you’re not posting as often. Real life and writers block happen to everyone, just make sure you’re taking care of yourself. If you’re still looking for head cannon ideas I’d like to suggest ways Merlin is different/ not quite human. The show said he was magic incarnated and then didn’t really give us much.

(Headcanon Masterlist) (Full Masterlist)

AAAH fun!!

I remember a few anons and asks and exchanges happening over this topic a little while ago!!

Let's go!!

His teeth just straight up grow back. He has no idea that this is not normal until embarrassingly late in his life. Man's got shark teeth. Doesn't matter how many times they get knocked out or chipped or bloody, they always just... grow back.

I don't think he would have multiple of the same organ (say... two hearts a la The Doctor) but his heartbeat and pulse like... reverberates all over his body when you listen close/press your fingers to his pulse point. It's damn near impossible to monitor this guy's vitals because they're so... vibrate-y and weird and everywhere. Not even Gaius knows how to explain it really, and he's the guy that knows about all the... objects and shit that you find inside a human torso. Lance tries to take his pulse once when he's unconscious or something and like... freaks out.

His eyes are kinda cat-like in that they shine a bit at night, but only when he's being... sneaky? Or dangerous? Or serious? When he's just chilling out as Merlin he's as blind as everyone else is in the dark, but when his head's in the game, his magic sort of subconsciously heightens his senses. Being able to see in the dark with shiny reflective eyes is part of that, not that he notices.

He's really dextrous, really good with his hands. He never really... learnt to? But he can do that trick where you flip coins between your fingers, and he can do card tricks, even one handed. He can pick people's pockets really easily and he's very good and pouring out/cutting/weighing specific measurements because his hands are so steady.

He has a sixth sense, a la Spiderman, in that it's actually pretty hard to sneak up on him. Even if he isn't consciously aware that someone is stood right behind him, there's a far off corner of his brain that knows exactly who it is and what they're doing and whether they're looking at him or not and how long they've been there. He puts on a show of being easily startled because pretending to be a complete wimp is the only way he knows how to be consistent. He doesn't think he could pull of being normal (read: normally unflappable, though may jump occasionally) without it being obvious that he's hyper aware of his surroundings.

He’s straight up never broken a bone. Look, I think a lot of this physical stuff (seeing in the dark, teeth growing back, no broken bones) is a manifestation of his brain?? Like he’s so powerful, he genuinely believes, after his baby teeth fall out and grow back for the first time, that that’s just how teeth work. So his magic makes it happen without him even knowing. He needs to see in the dark, he expects to be able to see in the dark, so... he can. He really doesn’t think the fall out the tree was that bad, it doesn’t even hurt that much, so before his body has time to process and send pain signals... his magic has already fixed it.

~

I accidentally pressed post instead of save as draft, but it’s past midnight and I have work tomorrow, or... later today lol. So I’ll edit and add more soon!! Enjoy these ones for now though :D

[causenessus]

Rest Days. | Jacob Frye

jacob frye x reader

she/her pronouns

song recc: i exist i exist i exist by flatsound

word count: 945 words

mainly wrote for me and definitely not edited but thought it was a sweet enough idea to post :)

“Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say this feels pretty good. And how could I be scared? When I stretch and feel you’re there?”

There is always more to do in the life of an assassin.

Always a next target.

Always another person suffering when they aren’t out there doing their job.

That is what she had been taught her whole life. In a house built upon the words “more,” where perfection was the standard and mistakes were the worst that could ever happen.

Where the words that if you were going to do something, do it wholeheartedly were obsessed over and plagued her more deeply than advice ever should.

Where the priority to help others was held above everything else.

And she had handled it for so long, through working despite hard external and internal conditions--even if she was sick, even if it was pouring. How could she give up now? 

It was a question that nearly made her throw up her guts on the spot.

Like when a sickening memory resurfaces, bringing with it uncanny nostalgia that is not quite warm and sweet. Like when it is brought on by a song or smell that immediately pulls you back into the thoughts associated with it. Ones embedded into your brain perhaps because of the pain that followed, forever ruining the sound or scent. And now it’s back. Playing on the radio or in the air. And now you’re sitting there, trapped in your own personal dip into hell as nausea tops it all off.

She twisted and turned, entangled in sheets that felt too close--too heavy. Perhaps they were telling her to get up too.

But she was tired. She wanted one day to herself. One day to lay in bed and not think of all the ways something could go wrong, how she was messing up, or disappointing someone.

She wanted one day to sleep in and lay in the arms of the one beside her.

The one who was currently stirring awake, because she couldn’t keep her emotions to herself.

Dramatic. Weak. Attention-seeker.

She was suddenly much more aware of her surroundings and how out out of place she was. Of the effect she had on the bed, being so heavy it sunk. Of her effect on Jacob, being so sensitive and overwhelmed by her own emotions that she had woken him from his sleep.

She froze, laying on her side, facing towards a window that beckoned her to come closer, to throw aside the curtains and start a day instead of wasting it, hoping that if she remained quiet he’d be able to fall back asleep.

But they were assassins, for God’s sake. How could she think he wouldn’t notice something was off?

An arm slung itself atop her hips, pulling her simultaneously back and turning her body around, offering her the way out. Not out the window, into a day of hunting from the shadows only fueled by the expectations stacked to the sky set by those watching her from their graves, but into the love of someone who mattered now. Who offered her rest and the okay to accept it.

But her mind persisted. ‘But what of the people who--’

“S’matter, Love?” he murmured, with tousled hair and a sleepy smile, drawing lazy circles on her thigh. He was, as always, the sanctuary she could return to. Protecting her from the voices, away from the past, presumptions, and pressure.

Her answer was hushed as she moved a hand to intertwine itself with his free one, “I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“You don’t have to, then. Nothing’s stopping you. You can stay here,” he squeezed her hand gently, rubbing a thumb back and forth over it, “if anyone has a problem with that they can take it up with me.”

“What if I’m the one that has a problem with it?” Her mind had been silenced for now, but her excuse would only last so long before she would force herself to compensate for the late start by working long hours into the night and maybe even the next day.

She wanted to quiet it for good.

And he was with her.

He spoke the promise over her with gentle traces along her skin, and then through the hand that pulled her even closer to him before trailing its way up to her cheek.

“Then I’ll keep you here,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips, the cold bridge of his nose brushing against hers. “And I’ll tell you about all the reasons you deserve to stay here.

“Because you are not Atlas, and the world will not come crashing down if you step away to take a day for yourself. Because even the God above took a day to rest from His work. Because there are others who see beauty in the world and will fight to preserve it. Because the people you worry about not being saved today will be saved. Maybe by Evie, maybe Greenie, or maybe a little rascal with big dreams.”

She broke into a small smile at that, wondering if he was referring to the pickpocket from his first day here or Clara with her “small” favor.

Nevertheless, both of them had led to events occurring like dominos falling onto one another because of their actions. The twins found Henry through their thrill in chases and races, and Clara had emancipated thousands of children through those who fulfilled her request.

“You can get back to doing it all tomorrow,” Jacob added, toying with the strands of her hair that he could reach while still holding her face. “Will you take a rest day with me?”

This time she was the one to bring herself closer, placing a kiss on his lips.

“I will.”

[hpowellsmith]

Books of January

I've really enjoyed reading more this month! I always read a lot over the holidays and then fall out of the habit but ended up doing more this time around.

Wild: from Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail - Cheryl Strayed (reread)

I liked this when I first read it, and liked it even more this time. The sense of the outdoors and the personal journeys within feel incredibly real to me. It inspired me to get out and about more: I always feel better when I take some time outdoors. I didn't really get on with her other books, but this one remains a favourite.

Dancing on Eggshells: Kitchen, Ballroom, & The Messy Inbetween - John Whaite

Every so often I read a celebrity memoir and usually it falls a little flat - often too obviously ghostwritten/over-edited or glib or twee. This one is less over-polished which is to its benefit, includes a bunch of lovely recipes, and explores growing up gay in England during Section 28 (at the same time I was growing up). Whaite comes across as very sincere in this, and since publication has said he's quitting TV which is probably a good thing. It was interesting reading the Strictly parts having read Craig Revel Horwood's memoir last year - Revel Horwood is very blithe about how lovely it all is whereas Whaite gives a more complicated perspective.

Maw - Jude Ellison S. Doyle

This horror graphic novel is gripping in places but it didn't pull me in as much as I'd hoped having read Doyle's discussions about the writing process and inspirations. It was over a little fast, characters appeared and were killed off a little too speedily for it to have much impact, and the ending felt a little abrupt. I liked the characters and the general idea but would have liked more breathing room to get to know them. I've got The Neighbors on pre-order and hope to get into that one more.

The Easternmost Sky - Juliet Blaxland

I could write an essay about what was frustrating about this book - the lack of class-consciousness from someone who casually mentions going to visit cousins for Christmas at the local manor, the (wilfully?) ignorant comments about rewilding, the unexamined pro-hunting commentary - but parts of it are quite good and evocative. Having grown up in rural England where neither I nor my peers were involved with the hunting-and-shooting manor-house culture, it's irritating to read a book which cheerfully conflates "country life" with being someone who loves running to hounds and thinks hunting is great, but some of the descriptions were lovely. Still, I'd recommend other nature writers like Robert MacFarlane or Helen Macdonald (who engages with falconry, but in a much more thoughtful way) over this one.

The Lives of Christopher Chant - Diana Wynne Jones (reread)

This was a beloved book from my teenage years and I shared it with my child after there was a lot of enjoyment of Howl's Moving Castle and Charmed Life last year. This one was a harder sell, it turned out: it's slower-paced than I remember, and bleaker, and there's very DWJ-esque penultimate chapter where a lot of stuff suddenly happens and is revealed and resolved very fast. I do love Christopher and his friends, though, and as with many of DWJ's books, it does betrayal and sudden self-awareness heartbreakingly well.

Mexican Gothic - Silvia Moreno-Garcia

I. Loved. This. I loved it! I'd read a couple of Moreno-Garcia's books before and enjoyed them reasonably but this was the first one where it really grabbed me and wouldn't let go. A post-colonial Mexican gothic horror in which the heroine probes into an English family's business when her cousin, who's married into this family, sends a disturbed message begging for help... it's so good. I don't want to say anything more about it but I enjoyed it immensely and it solidified Moreno-Garcia as a favourite author.

Toto the Ninja Cat and the Legend of the Wildcat - Dermot O'Leary

This was really cute. My child and I ended up losing track of some of the plot, which became slightly complex, but it was generally adorable. There's not a ton else to say other than it's a nice story with a few jokes for adults that are good sensible-chuckle material.

Untamed Shore - Silvia Moreno-Garcia

This was so good. It's a noir thriller without the supernatural elements I'd encountered in the author's other work, but it gripped me excellently. I really enjoyed the unfolding dangerousness of all the characters, including the protagonist, and I was genuinely uncertain about what would happen towards the end - it had me really tense! I enjoyed it greatly.

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 6: Mouthfeel

Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

TW: awkwardness, some minor nudity, mentions of suicide (not graphic), Simone is a bitch in this chapter, slightly mentions of smoking and drugs, language, mentions of past criminal activity, slight cliffhanger.

Sorry about the late update y'all! I had a rough day yesterday and just didn't have the time to finish editing. Please enjoy! 🥰

Jake’s warm jacket draped over my shoulders as we walked up the beach house steps in silence. Neither of us really knew what to say at this point. What do you say following a near-death experience and a mutual trauma dump? With each step, I left a puddle of water behind me and mentally cursed myself for being stupid enough to jump into the ocean wearing the only pair of jeans I had in that old bag.

I swung the door open and did my best to ignore the fact that Jake was now not only fully aware of my raging mommy issues but was also stepping into the threshold of where those issues were mostly forged. Glass crunched beneath my feet. Right… There’s also that. “Uh, don’t fall. There’s glass everywhere down here.”

“Yeah, looks like you had quite the rager,” Jake mused quietly. “Need help cleaning it up?”

“No,” I replied, laying his jacket over the back of the couch. “I never clean up while I’m here. She can hire someone to do it when she comes back.”

He nodded, slowly moving through the living room and taking in the sight. “Looks like no one has been here for months.”

“Yeah, we moved around a lot for her business stuff. She doesn’t come here much anymore. Guess it wasn’t as fun without a kid to throw in the ocean.”

Jake chuckled at my poor attempt to ease the tension and kicked the empty bottles of booze. “Think you broke my bender record for the most amount of alcohol consumed.”

“Shut up.”

He looked at me, eyeing my still trembling, soaked form. “You should get changed.”

I nodded. “A great idea. Sadly I don’t exactly have a ton of spare clothes on hand.”

He replied with a barely restrained grin, “We’re both adults. A little nudity never hurt anyone.”

“You’re funny,” I responded, grabbing my bag from the kitchen counter to search my options. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. “Fuck.”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Looks like we’re in for an interesting night.”

With a sigh, I turned to face him. “No one’s forcing you to stay.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “But it’s a bit dark out now, and I’d hate to get caught wandering these dangerous streets at night.”

“Well, we both know how easy it’d be for you to get your ass kicked.”

“Absolutely. So, what’s the plan?” His smile grew unbearably wider as he raised a brow, drawing his eyes down the length of my body. “You wanna go first, or should I?”

I scoffed. “Do you really think I’m that easy?”

“If you were easy, I would’ve fucked you months ago, princess.” Jake took a step forward, relying on the play he always seemed to. Close the distance and force them into a corner to let the lack of space do all the work. And just like every time he’d tried it before, Jake was met with my body’s solid, unflinching mass.

“Really?” I asked quietly, deliberately keeping eye contact with him. “How many times have you tried this move?”

“A lot,” he admitted. “Though I’m not exactly complaining about how you respond to it.”

I set a hand on his chest and shoved him back. “Here’s the deal, I don’t have any dry clothes, and you don’t have any dry clothes. There’s a dryer in the upstairs bathroom. So you are going to shower because you smell like an old woman scrubbed you down with shitty ocean febreeze.”

“Not going to join me?” He asked flirtatiously.

“No. I will set up the bedroom for the two of us to sleep in. SLEEP in, no funny business.”

“I’d hardly call it funny-”

“Jake.”

He raised his hands with a smirk. “Alright, alright.”

I shook my head. “When you’re done, wrap a towel around your ass, and you can get in bed while I put our clothes in the dryer and shower. If you so much as try and peek, I’ll toss you in the ocean.”

“I kinda like it when you boss me around,” Jake replied with a wink. “Gonna give me a quick tour, or should I just start opening doors?”

Though his comment made my heart skip a beat, I rolled my eyes at him and led the way up the stairs and into my old room. I kept my head down as I showed him to the bathroom, trying as best I could not to let the belongings that had once been mine drag me back down. “Leave your clothes by the door, and I’ll grab them and put them in the dryer.”

He looked around the small bathroom, carefully snooping through the slightly dusty scene. “Last chance to join me. We could save some water.”

“Leave your shit by the door,” I replied, closing the bathroom door behind me as I set the bed.

The shower turned on after a minute or two of silence, allowing me a few minutes to breathe. I stood in the middle of the room, shivering slightly as I stared at the bare walls and the dusty surfaces that held one or two small trinkets. Nothing here was important… None of it was even real. The picture frames were empty, the ribbons and trophies held no memories of joy or any feelings of accomplishment, and none of the small trinkets I’d collected in my time here meant anything. 

This room was a tomb, a cage, a place haunted by the sons of a child and the endless stream of voices telling her she was not enough. I could practically see her bent over the desk by the window, desperately studying and afraid to look out the window. Afraid to watch the world and everyone in it pass by. You are enough, I wanted to tell her. You were always enough. But I knew she couldn’t hear me. I knew the past was set in stone. All her suffering and all her doubts and fears they’d already happened.

My hand settled against my shoulder, settled against the chilled skin marred by the hideous scar. I smoothed my fingers over it for a moment before snapping myself out of pity and regret of the past. Then, stripping the bed of its dust-covered blankets and sheets, I beat them out as best I could before putting it all back together. It smelt terrible, but it’d have to do. I shoved a few pillows in the middle, dividing the bed in half as the shower stopped.

Jake emerged from the bathroom with a towel hanging lowly on his hips, and his exposed chest glistened with leftover water. His arms were covered with dark tattoos, ones I didn’t get to look at closely before he leaned against the doorframe with a smile. “Left or right?”

“What?” I asked, quickly looking away from his chest to finish the bed.

I could practically feel Jake’s joy as he chuckled. “Do you prefer to sleep on the left or right?”

“I don’t really care either way,” I insisted.

He walked across the room and sat down on the left side, bouncing on the bed slightly before throwing his legs up and lounging back on the pillows. “I’ll take the left then.”

His smirk was unbearable as I turned and headed toward the bathroom. “Don’t fuck up the pillows.”

I tossed his wet clothes in the small dryer before stripping myself and adding my own to the machine. My whole body ached from swimming, and my head pounded. The hot water was a quick blessing, one that ran out quickly. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as the cold water stung my back. “Holy fucking shit!”

There was a soft knock at the door. “You alright in there?”

“You used all the hot water, asshole!” I hollered.

Jake chuckled. “Oops.”

“I swear to god I’m going to kill you.”

“That’d be pretty fucked up, considering I just spent my night saving your ass.” There was a pause before he spoke again, “Want me to join you? I’m sure we can find a way to heat the place up.”

“Open that door, and I’ll shove my foot all the way up your ass!”

His laugh, muffled by the door, still sent a shiver up my spine. No, I insisted. It’s just from the water. “Well, enjoy your cold shower then.”

“Dickhead.”

I was shivering when I’d rinsed the salty stench of the water off myself. I wrapped myself in a towel and turned the light off, quickly moving to my side of the bed and getting beneath the covers while Jake smiled at me over the pillows between us. He held his head up in his hand, resting on his elbow to watch me. “You know you’d be a lot warmer if we were closer. You know, body heat and all.”

I rolled my eyes and glared over at him. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I’m just saying, it’s awfully cold.”

“You’re always welcome to warm yourself up downstairs with all the glass.”

Jake laughed, the movement shaking the bed slightly as he moved to settle down first the night. “Fine, I’ll keep my warm body on my side then.”

“Go to sleep.”

He was quiet for all of twenty seconds before he spoke again, “Can I ask you something?”

I groaned quietly, glaring at him even harder over the pillows barricading between us. “What part about “go to sleep” do you not get?”

“Come on, princess, indulge me a little.”

“I think I’ve indulged you more than enough.”

Jake smiled at me, the moonlight casting across the side of his face and making that dumb grin of his glow. “I’m insatiable, what can I say?”

“What do you want to ask?”

“You told me about your mom. About what happened back then.” Anxiety consumed every inch of me as I kept breathing in and out.

“And?”

“You never told me why you were out there tonight.”

My jaw clenched as I thought about what to say. Why had I gone out there tonight? Why had I chosen to leap off a boat into the fucking ocean? “I…” I sighed. “I was pretty shitfaced.”

Jake saw straight through the deflection. “Were you… Was this some kind of… attempt?”

That fear I’d seen in his eyes as he leaned over the side of the boat and begged me to take his hand was back, shining brighter now as it looked like he held back tears. “No,” I whispered, reaching over the barricade to squeeze his hand. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself.”

His eyes closed tightly as he squeezed my hand back. “Good. That’s good.”

Was that why he was still here? Did he think I’d jump back in the water the second he was gone? Clearing my throat, I pulled my hand back and settled into the covers, trying to regain a sense of separation from him. “No more questions til we’re both back in New York.”

“Oh?” He chuckled. “Will I get more than four next time?”

“Maybe,” I answered. “If you shut up and go to sleep.”

“Keep talkin like that, and I’ll be up all night, princess.”

I rolled my eyes before closing them tightly. “Stop calling me that.”

“Not a chance.”

“God, you’re annoying,” I teased with a smile.

Jake laughed. “It’s all part of my charm.”

*

Jake tossed and turned for a while before settling on his back, blinking the sleep from his eyes to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling. The ceiling of Lena Harrow’s old bedroom. The night’s events returned to him like a freight train as he quickly turned to look over the pillows where Lena had been sleeping. For a moment, he was worried she’d be gone, worried she’d wanted until he was asleep to sneak back out onto the water. That all melted away at the sight of her bare back glowing in the morning light.

Her red hair pooled over the pillow she buried her head into, and the bed shifted ever so slightly with each deep breath she took. Jake sighed before his eyes wandered down the smooth skin exposed to him. Her spine was decorated with a large tattoo, a snake shedding its dark, dull skin to reveal new pearlescent scales. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers along the gorgeous piece of art and trace the lines of her tattoo as well.

The same sensations he felt the day before rose to the surface. God, she’s perfect. Everything about her spoke to him, drawing him in like no one he’d ever known. She shifted slightly, making a soft noise that sent a wave of heat through him like damn lightning. He slid out from beneath the covers, careful to not jostle the bed and wake her up, though it was tempting just to see how she’d react to seeing his bare ass. If last night told him anything, she’d enjoy what she saw, just like she had when he exited the bathroom.

The room was void of the life and attitude that he knew Lena to have. The walls were painted a dull white, probably some pretentious name like eggshell or cream of some bullshit. There were no posters or pictures, no artwork, only photos of generic art that looked like it belonged in a hotel rather than a room. Trophies and ribbons hung from a few shelves, all for competitions he couldn’t imagine Lena enjoying. Mathematics, spelling, science, music… It wasn’t her. That was the point, though, wasn’t it? “I wasn’t like this back then.” He hadn’t known what she meant then, but he sure as hell did now. If this was the mold she’d been forced into as a kid, it was likely a hard thing to break out of. Jake looked back towards her, still sleeping beneath the covers, and felt sad. 

He didn’t get the normal childhood that other kids did. When he was younger, he hated them because of it. Hated everyone he came in contact with that had parents show up at recitals or parent-teacher conferences. Seeing this… Seeing how she had lived, been treated, and been put through for the first time, Jake considered that maybe she’d been right that night in the hall. Maybe he wasn’t the only one that had it bad. A dead mom was better than one that hated who you were so much she threw you in the ocean.

Jake had done his best to help the redhead out after the boat, but this situation was uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to act or what to say… and he really didn’t want to fuck this up. Lena’s trust and faith in him made him feel good. It made him think that maybe, just maybe, he could be the guy she thought he was, the guy Simone always wanted him to be. Dependable, honest, hardworking, selfless… Everything he felt he’d lacked.

Lena shifted again with another soft noise that made his mind go blank. If that’s how she sounds while she’s sleeping, just imagine how- He shut the thought down quickly and slipped into the bathroom to check on his clothes and to get some distance from her beautiful, naked, unholy sounds. His underwear and pants had dried nicely, but the shirt he’d worn along with Lena’s things was still damp. Jake restarted the machine and dressed as much as possible before quietly heading downstairs.

*

Waking up in the stiff musty bed felt like waking up years ago. It was unsettling how I lay there for a moment, waiting for her to come pounding on my door or even just waltz inside, uninvited to scold me for not getting out of bed fast enough. What was more unsettling was the silence. I turned, rolling face first to a wall of pillows that barred me from the other side of the bed. What the fuck? I peeked over at the unmade half of the bed, the used pillow, and the towel on the floor. It was then that I realized I hadn’t been dreaming about the insane events that occurred last night. I’d gotten drunk, drove a boat, and jumped into the ocean. Crazier than that was that Jake had found me… found me and stayed the night.

I couldn’t help but smile a bit as I recalled the way he snored loudly beside me, the way his feet and arms would ignore the pillows between us to seek out the person in bed beside him. Whether it was intentional or not, I didn’t know, but I wagered it’d be amusing as hell to find out. The room was empty. Jake must’ve grabbed his things and left before I woke up. I sighed, stretching the sleep from my limbs before making my way to the dryer to pull on the newly dried, still-warm clothes inside. My eyes were still heavy from sleep, and my head was pounding from the fun hangover I knew would be haunting me today.

I put my shoes back on and went downstairs to find some kind of medication or food before heading back to New York. Glass crunched beneath my feet as I turned toward the kitchen and stopped in my tracks. Jake was there, looking through cabinets and examining the boxes of expired food that no doubt was still inside. Just like last night, my eyes went to his tattoos. I couldn’t make out what most of them were from here, but I admired them nonetheless… them and the lean muscle of his exposed back and chest as he moved.

“Gonna stand there and stare at me all morning?” He asked, blue eyes flashing with that self-assured smug attitude of his.

“I thought you went home,” I deflected, moving to join him in the kitchen. “Why are you shirtless?”

Jake’s eyes shifted to look down at my chest, not unusual for him, though the way his lips curled into even more of a shit-eating grin should’ve been a warning. “Were you wanting me to peel it off your back or what?” I looked down at the t-shirt I’d grabbed from the dryer, his t-shirt. “I’m not opposed, of course, but there are far easier ways to ask me to strip you.”

I ignored how my face heated up at his words and shook my head. “I was still half asleep when I got dressed.” I turned back toward the stairs, pulling the shirt over my head and tossing it behind me. My shirt was stuck in the very back of the machine when I pulled it out and hissed, “Traitor.”

Jake was waiting in the living room, his shirt back on as his eyes scanned over the words of a book he’d found. He glanced up at me. “You could’ve kept mine, you know. We could’ve switched. 

“I think it would’ve been a bit of a tight fit on your end.”

“I could just walk around shirtless more. You seem to enjoy that.”

I scoffed and moved around the room, quickly packing what little I’d brought back into the bag I had brought. The tension in the air seemed to grow as the silence was weighed down by all that had been said between us. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, there’s not anything to eat here. I would’ve offered to make you shitty eggs or something.”

Jake chuckled, closing the book and setting it down where he’d found it. “As great as shitty eggs sound, I was thinking we could stop by a diner. It’s not far, and it’s usually not too busy.”

“Grumpy’s?”

“Yeah,” he smiled a bit, “I keep forgetting you lived here too.”

“It’s easy to forget,” I replied, nodding toward the door. “We can take the bike. I’ve gotta get going in a bit if I want to get back to the city before dark.”

“You’re leaving today?”

“Yeah,” I pulled my phone out of my bag and played the beginning of the thirty messages everyone had left me.

“Lena, you’d better fill that gas tank up before bringing my bike back!” Dom.

“Hey, fucking bitch, call me - us, I said US! Put that shoe down, Prue, I swear to God!” Quinn and Prue.

“Call me darling. You don’t have to talk. I just wanna know you’re safe,” Ozzy said.

“Lee,” Peter’s voice made a new wave of guilt hit me. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. Is everything okay?”

“Hey, shithead! Break another of those racks, and I will break your face! Sorry bout that, Lena,” Patrick said clearer into the speaker. “I know that was a lot… just call someone. Please. We’re starting to get worried.”

Jake looked at his feet as I closed the phone and shoved it back into my pocket. “Sounds like you’ll have a hell of a welcome home party.”

“More like a welcome home mob,” I replied.

“A mob is better than nothing,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.” I held his jacket out to him. “Here.”

He looked at it for a minute before shaking his head. “You wear it. It’s cold out today.”

“If it’s that cold, you’ll freeze without it.”

“I’m not the one that almost got hypothermia last night,” he responded with a winning grin. “Wear it.” 

I rolled my eyes and put it on. “Fine then.”

Locking the door behind me, the chilled gust of wind made me grateful that Jake had insisted I wear his jacket. I’d never openly tell him that; glancing back at the already too-smug look on his face, I shook my head. Nope. Never telling him that. He nodded toward the bike. “So this wasn’t the first time you stole a bike?”

“Nope,” I answered, pulling the keys out. “Dom freak out after I left?”

Jake shrugged. “Eh, he was more frustrated than anything.”

I nodded. “Yeah, well, considering how many times I’ve stolen this bike, I can’t blame him.”

“How many times have you stolen this bike?”

“Fifteen, maybe more.”

He whistled. “Damn, you’re kind of a criminal.”

I laughed and shrugged. “At least I’m a cute criminal, though.”

Jake laughed. “So, how are we doing this?”

“You ever been on a bike before?”

“Once,” he replied. “Wasn’t on it for long before Simone pulled me off, though.”

Swinging my leg over the side, I held the helmet out to him with a smile. “Newbies get the helmet.” He scoffed but put it on anyway. “Now, you just get on and hold on.”

His taller frame settled in behind me, keeping a vast distance between us. I laughed and took hold of them, placing them around my waist. “You’re gonna want to hold onto me.”

“I’ll take your word for it, princess.”

The bike came alive beneath us, and as we started to drive, I could feel a part of Jake come alive too. He laughed behind me, bright and full and childlike. It was a side to him I didn’t even know existed, but I enjoyed it, no matter how short-lived. Grumpy’s wasn’t far from my mom’s house, and Jake seemed to be almost disappointed by that as I found a place to park on the sidewalk, and we got off the bike. He pulled the helmet off and ran his fingers through his messy hair. “Next time I steal the bike, I’ll be sure to invite you.”

“Sounds like fun,” He replied, holding the helmet.

I set it down on the seat and clipped my bag to the front. “You’re buying.”

“Am I?”

“Think of it as payment for all the cigarettes you bummed off me.”

He shrugged. “I guess that’s only fair.”

We sat across from one another in a booth close to the windows so I could keep an eye on my things. Jake ordered waffles while I ordered pancakes, which led us to a quick debate on which was better, but once we’d grown quiet, that same awkwardness and tension settled over the table. Fuck it. “So, last night was kind of crazy.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “It was.”

“I…” I looked up and met his gaze. “I’m sorry for putting that all on you. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

Jake’s brows furrowed slightly. “I don’t mind. I was the one that asked.”

“Would you have asked if you hadn’t had to pull me out of the ocean?”

“Eventually,” he assured me. “Don’t apologize for that. Not to me.”

I smiled, “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you-”

“You would have been okay,” Jake interrupted. “I don’t… Let’s not talk about that.”

Right, his mom… I mentally cursed myself. “Okay, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

I rolled my eyes and smirked. “Sorry.”

Another minute of silence passed between us before Jake spoke again, “I’m not gonna tell anyone if you were worried about that.”

“Not even Simone?”

“No, not even her. Though if you were looking for someone to help with that kind of thing, she’d be willing.”

I shook my head, playing with my fingers beneath the table. “I’m sure she would.”

Jake frowned. “She’s good at helping with stuff like that. I know I’ve said it before, but it’s true. When I moved in with her family, she was all I had. She basically raised me.”

“Alright, let’s make a rule. No more talking about Simone. I understand she’s a big part of your life and that you’re, you know, whatever, but my opinion isn’t going to change, and I have a feeling our friendship isn’t going to last long if we’re constantly fighting over our opinions of Simone.”

“That’s fair,” he answered as the server placed our plates in front of us. “I’m still gonna argue with you about waffles, though.”

“Fair,” I replied. “But if you’re planning on getting into a debate over breakfast foods with me, prepare to lose.”

He cut into his waffle. “You’re that confident?”

“Absolutely,” I said, stuffing my mouth full of pancakes and making an exaggerated sound.

The longer I spent around Jake, the more I enjoyed his company. He didn’t make any faces or comments about how messily I ate; no matter how curious he was about my past here, he kept it to himself. Though he was undoubtedly an asshole, Jake wasn’t too bad. I finished my pancakes, and he finished his waffles, so the two of us just sat there talking about stupid stuff before the door opened, and Jake’s eyes darted toward it with a sigh. “There you are!”

“Simone,” he replied, shifting in his seat to make room for her. 

She slid in beside him, not even looking over at me while she frowned at him as she set his phone down. “You left this at the house. I’ve been worried!”

“Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked,” he said, glancing over at me. Simone finally turned her head, and her mouth fell open slightly. Then, with wide eyes, she composed herself.

“Lena,” Simone said with a taut smile. Her eyes were wider than usual as they fixated on the black jacket, Jake’s jacket, that hugged my shoulders and encased me in the smokey and woodsy scent. “I didn’t know you were in Cape Cod.”

I smiled, somewhat gladdened that Jake hadn’t told her. “Yeah, it was a last-minute trip.”

She hummed, her eyes shifting to Jake, whose face had drained of his usual charismatic glow and was now replaced with a nervous look that made his whole face seem tight and tense. “So this is what you got up to last night.”

“Simone,” Jake started with a sigh as she sat beside him.

“It’s fine,” she answered with a broader smile that didn’t even try to reach her eyes. “I’m sure it was something significant that kept you from coming home last night.”

Tilting my head to the side, I shrugged. “That’s on me, actually. My bike broke down by the beach, and Jake happened to see me. He offered to help, which took much longer than it should have.”

Her eyes practically drank up the lie as she pursed her lips. “Sounds like you were fortunate Jake was around.”

“I was,” I answered, looking back over at Jake. He knew the truth, and that was what mattered, so I shoved down the part of me that worried that truth would be exposed to Simone’s all too eager ears the second I left them alone.

Jake watched Simone closely as she ordered, his forehead creasing when she’d gotten a beer over coffee or water. He could tell something was off with her, and though it was pretty obvious even to me, Jake seemed to pick up on it more than I could just from the small things she said and did. My stomach churned uncomfortably at the sight of them. Was this what it had looked like to everyone else? I wondered, darker memories simmering just below the surface. Was it this obvious that something was wrong between us? 

“So, what brings you to the Cape?” Simone asked as she settled into her seat beside Jake.

“It’s a personal matter,” I answered without hesitation and without apology. “Not really something I’d feel comfortable burdening a coworker with.” The message was clear. Move on.

She looked far too smug about the response as she nodded. “I understand personal matters can be quite difficult to navigate. But we’re always available should you need someone to help you find your way around. Jake and I grew up here, after all.”

I smiled, trying my best not to laugh at her apparent scramble to find a foothold that would tether me to her and force me to rely on her as Jake and so many others at 22West did. “I’m not staying, but thanks for the offer.”

Jake watched her as she took a long drink of her beer, worry solidifying on his features. “You’re leaving so soon?”

“Oh, I’ve been here for days,” I answered.

“Really? Where have you been staying?” Jake nudged her slightly, an apparent attempt to dissuade her from pressing questions, one that failed as she giggled softly. “Sorry, it’s just I know how difficult finding a decent hotel can be around here. I wouldn’t want you to have trouble sleeping because the bed is too lumpy or the place reeks of dead fish.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to worry, though,” I adjusted the jacket on my shoulders, “I slept just fine.”

How her face dropped for a moment told me everything I needed to know about her and Jake’s relationship. If I wasn’t sure before, I was now. Not only was Simone like my mother, she was like him too. A cold spike of rage coursed through my veins as I looked over at Jake’s timid and almost childlike behavior before meeting her eyes again. This time I let my polite mask drop. This time I let Simone have exactly what she wanted, a look into my thoughts. I know what you are. 

Her smile faltered as we stared one another down for a short moment. Then, she fixed her mask. “That’s good. There’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep.”

“I can think of a few things,” I replied, carefully pulling out my dwindling pack of cigarettes. “Like one last smoke.” I nodded toward the door. “Want to join me?”

He looked uncertain, looking at Simone for that ever-so-subtle nod before joining me. “Sure.”

The fresh air made the heavy weight of Simone’s gaze burning holes into my skull feel somewhat lessened as I leaned against the wall beside Jake and lit the cigarette, taking a quick drag before holding it out to him. “Sorry, you’re in the doghouse because of me.”

Jake shrugged, slowly regaining his usual attitude and demeanor. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to being on Simone’s nerves.”

“I can imagine.”

“She’s not usually like this,” he assured me quietly. “Ever since her ex came to visit a while back, she’s been… off.”

She’d get no sympathy from me, but for Jake’s sake, I shrugged him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with far worse people.”

Jake handed the cigarette back to me with a sad look. “She reminds you of your mom, doesn’t she?”

“A little,” I replied. “More so someone else that makes my mother look like a saint.”

He tilted his head carefully. “Who?”

I smirked. “You used up your questions last night.”

“Do you always have to make getting to know you so difficult?” He questioned with a smile.

“Of course. If I didn’t, you’d get bored.”

“I don’t think I’d ever get bored of you,” he replied, softer than before, with a gleam of something in his eyes… something nervous and unnamed. 

I could see Simone watching us closely from the corner of my eye like a predator watching over the prey she’d long staked her claim to. Jake wasn’t a game and certainly wasn’t anyone to claim. I pulled the cigarette from between Jake’s lips and took one last drag of it, closing my eyes to savor the smokey taste that filled my mouth as I exhaled. “Well, time for me to head out.” I placed what remained between Jake’s lips and slid past the window, making deliberate eye contact with Simone, waving at her as I walked towards Dom’s bike.

“Try not to wreck it,” Jake said, standing up from his comfortable position against the wall. “It’d suck to get back to the city and hear you’d been beaten to death by angry bikers.”

With a smirk, I swung my leg over and straddled the bike. “Or it’d be super badass coming back and hearing about how I beat the shit out of 20 angry bikers.”

He laughed, and his eyes softened. “See you at work, Lana.”

“See you then, Jerk.” I pulled the helmet over my head and started the bike, revving the engine before flipping Jake off and speeding down the street. He stood on the curb for a minute before turning and walking into the diner to face Simone.

I let the light rush of adrenaline wash over me as I drove. The engine roaring replaced the sound of the ocean. The smell of Jake on his jacket replaced the bitter tang of salt. The wind forced anything left of Cape Cod off me and left it where it belonged. Fuck the cape. I repeated to myself.

*

He sat back down across from Simone with a sigh, folding his hands on the table and watching her quietly eat the simple breakfast platter she’d ordered. Watching Simone drink anything other than wine made him feel weird, but seeing her do so this early in the morning was just concerning. “You hate beer.”

Simone smiled, chuckling as she examined the bottle in her hand. “I do.”

“How was the rest of the night with your mom?”

“You’d know the answer if you’d bothered to come back last night.”

“Simone,” Jake sighed. He felt guilty about not calling to let her know what had happened, but he hadn’t been able to think straight until this morning. It was something he found happened often when Lena was involved. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” She shook her head. “Sorry is something you say when you forget to bring wine or dessert. You just disappeared, Jake. Sorry, it doesn’t cut it this time.”

“It’s personal okay,” Jake replied flippantly.

“Personal?” Simone hissed. “More personal than all I’ve done and sacrificed for you?”

Jake ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not my shit, Simone. It’s not my place to share it with you.”

Her pale eyes stared back at him with a downturned face of disappointment that he was familiar with. “Was she any good?”

“Jesus,” he scoffed. “I didn’t sleep with her.” Of course, technically, he did, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Simone that.

“Let’s not play games, Jake,” she said while taking a drink. “We both know how you are, especially with new coworkers.”

Whether she meant it as a dig towards his short relationship with Tess or not didn’t matter, it hurt all the same. He leaned over the table a bit more. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

She watched him for a minute before she finally sighed. “Good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night. I didn’t really have time to think about it.”

“What happened?”

This was the moment he’d dreaded. Jake didn’t want to lie to Simone. It was one of their oldest rules, one that Simone mainly took seriously. But if he told her what happened last night, she’d no doubt try to help. It was just who she was, and that’d put a swift and bitter end to the friendship he’d just reestablished with a girl who was more like him than he thought. “It’s just like she said. I helped her out, lost track of time, and ended up crashing on her couch.” Her bed. The bed that made it impossible to smell anything but her.

“And where was she staying?”

“Simone-”

“The least you could do is tell me where you were. I-”

“Simone!” He interrupted. “Lena’s shit isn’t our problem. I helped her out. That’s it. Do you not trust me?”

She reached across the take and took hold of his hand. “Of course I do. You know I do. The one I don’t trust is her.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “I mean, I know you two don’t get along, but she hasn’t been anything but nice to everyone.”

“Nice is not a word I’d use to describe that girl.” Simone shook her head. “I read her file. Howard’s old system was actually useful for once.” She leaned in closer. “Lena Harrow is dangerous, Jake. Did you know she had a criminal record? Fighting, drugs, stealing, arson.”

With all he’d learned about her in just one night, Jake felt the list of crimes was relatively small compared to what he’d been picturing. Lena had a dark past; there was no denying that. “I’m not saying I know everything about her, but-”

“No buts. Just… Don’t sleep with her, and don’t get too attached,” Simone’s face softened, and large tears began to well in her eyes as she spoke. “I care about you, Jake. And I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

He held her hand. “I know. I promise I’ll be careful, Simone.”

*

I pulled up to the warehouse, parked the bike next to all the others, and knocked on the side door. A large man, lovingly known among Dom’s gang as Fluffy, opened the door and smiled down at me. “Dom in?”

“He’s at Nana’s,” Fluffy replied.

“Thanks!”

Weaving through the heavy foot traffic of the city, I squeezed through Nana’s door and offered the elderly woman a smile, one she met with a scowl. She quickly rolled up one of the newspapers and stalked from behind the counter toward me. The swats were too quick to dodge as she cursed in Arabic. “You worried us!” She shouted. “Stealing that bike and riding off, no phone calls, no notes!”

“I’m sorry, Nana!” I shrieked, rubbing my arm where she’d hit me. 

She pulled me into a tight hug and squeezed hard. “You never do that again! You understand me!”

I hugged her back. “I promise, Nana.”

When she finally pulled back, she shooed me toward the corner. “He’s in his seat.”

Dom always commandeered the booth in the very back of the restaurant. Said it was good for business even though everyone knew dealing beneath Nana’s roof was against the rules. He ate the food in front of him, wordlessly offering me the seat across from him. I slid his keys across the table. “It’s got a full tank.”

“Good,” he said, putting them back in his pocket. “Did it give you any problems?”

“No.”

Dom looked at me for a moment before he sighed and asked, “You feel better?”

With a shrug, I answered, “I guess.”

“I’m sorry about the jacket.”

“Dom, that was-” He held up a hand to stop me.

“I know it’s not the only reason you did it, but the last straw to set you off. My guy did it, and I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I’d offer to replace it, but we both know it was one of a kind.”

I sighed. “I don’t blame you for what happened, but thanks.”

He took a few more bites before asking, “How was Cape Cod?”

“Shit, as always.” I smiled. “But I guess it was better than the last few times.”

“That got anything to do with the tough guy?”

“What?” I looked at him with wide eyes and a, hopefully, slight blush. “How did you-”

“He mentioned having to pack for a trip to The Cape. It wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.” Dom smiled a bit. “I was just glad you’d have a familiar face around.” After a minute, he reached over and held my hand. “I’ve gotta tell you something, but promise you’re not gonna freak out and steal my shit again, okay?”

Dom was rarely this cautious about what he said, and it put me on edge instantly. “Okay.”

He squeezed my hand as he spoke. “One of my guys saw a familiar car driving through.”

“Familiar car?” I asked before the realization hit me, along with the memories of that engine roaring and the tires squealing beneath every movement. “Dom…”

“Relax,” he ordered quickly. “I’m looking into it. You’ll be the first to know if there’s anything to worry about. I promise.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

Dom waited to pull back until my breaths had evened out. “You should head to Ozzy’s. Those two have been worried.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Dom.”

“No problem, kid, just don’t steal my bike again.”

“No promises.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

Nana filled my arms with to-go boxes, and I made my way to the bar. The security team grabbed a box from my arms and greeted me quickly. I set one down and tapped the bar, making sure the two bartenders knew it was for them before heading into Ozzy’s office. He sat with his back turned to me, looking down at a stack of papers. Finally, I knocked on the wall. “Hey.”

He turned and jumped up, pulling me into a big hug. “Thank Jesus! You’re not allowed to do that ever again!”

“I breathed in the comforting smell of Ozzy’s smoke and sighed. “Sorry, Oz.”

“Don’t be,” he insisted. “Just pick up the phone next time.”

My dad’s ruined jacket sat on the desk on top of a pile of things. It made me sad looking down at the remains of such a big part of my life. “I didn’t mean to ignore your calls. I just… It’s been a long week.”

He smiled. “I know, darling. But it’s okay now. You’re home, where we can all take care of each other.”

“Does Pete know?”

“No.” Ozzy shook his head. “I figured it’d be best, all things considered, to not tell him you’d run off.”

“Good. He needs to focus on getting better.”

Ozzy nodded in agreeance. “Patrick and I discussed what we wanted to do next week when he gets out of the hospital. He’s been asking to meet your coworkers for a while now.”

I groaned. “You’re not going to suggest what I think you are, right?”

“Between the three of us, we have enough to take him to 22West. So he’d get to meet your coworkers and have a high-end meal. It’s a win for everyone.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “I guess I owe you two this since I was gone.”

Patrick appeared in the doorway, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “This mean I need to get a suit?”

“Yes,” I answered. “It’s a pretty high-end place.”

“Say no more, sis. I’m on it.”

Ozzy smiled. “I think I have something that would work.”

“No hats.”

“Damn.”

*

I took the next few days off to readjust to the city and calm my nerves about returning to the restaurant. It was little more than a paranoid feeling that I’d return to Maddie back in the kitchen or, worse, my mother waiting in the front room for me. When I did go back, these feelings were quickly depleted as Scott looked up from prep and scoffed. “Bout fuckin time. Go get something to eat and then get to prepping.”

“Yes, Chef,” I answered, nodding to Isaac. “It’s good to be back.”

“Yeah yeah, hurry it up, Red!”

Changing into my shirt, I stared at my empty locker for a moment, quietly mourning the space dads jacket used to fill up. My fingers ran over the open air as I turned to smack right into someone’s chest. Jake’s familiar laugh made me look up with a smile. “Miss me that much?”

I rolled my eyes and took a step back. “There goes my good day.” He squeezed past me and opened his locker, looking at the leather jacket I’d stuffed inside. “I took the liberty of returning your jacket.”

“How’d you know my combination?”

“Sasha.”

“Right,” Jake chuckled, holding the jacket in his hands for a second before holding it out to me. “Why don’t you keep it for a while?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got another one.”

I smiled, turning toward the door. “So do I. Keep your jacket, Jake.”

The second I walked into the front room and toward the long table filled with people eating the family dinner, Sasha jumped up and wrapped me up in a big hug. He demanded to hear about my criminal history as Will set a plate in front of me. From across the table, Simone smiled as Jake slid into the seat next to her. The two of us held one another’s gaze for a moment before Howard broke the stiff silence. “Lena, welcome back. How was your vacation?”

“Oh, it was a hoot,” I answered.

He hummed, “So you found a place with the worst bed and drank all week?”

I laughed and nodded. “You know me, Howard, always the party animal.”

Howard nodded, sliding a small piece of paper across the table to me with a more careful smile. “Today, we’ve been gifted with a spectacular vintage.”

The paper unfolded, and a cold wave washed over me as I traced my mother’s handwriting. Leave a tip for the cleaners next time. I practically scoffed at the simple message before I tore the paper up and stuffed it into my pocket. Jake looked at me from across the table but said nothing as we ate the family dinner and drank the fancy wine.

Being tossed into the throws of a busy night of service felt exhilarating after the long break I’d taken. The kitchen was finally back to its normal flow as all traces of Maddie’s visit were washed away by Scott’s powerful voice and creative mind. As soon as things slowed down, I nodded at Santos. “Need some help with those dishes?”

He laughed. “Does it matter what I say?”

“Nope!” I smiled back. “Give me one second, and I’ll hop in and help.”

I wiped my hands down and shrugged my cook’s coat off, hanging it off the railing as I slid out the kitchen door and behind the bar. Nicky smirked at me as he cleaned some glasses. The restaurant was basically empty. Servers stood by the bar waiting for the last few tables to begin vacating, and Jake made one last drink for the only person sitting at the bar. I stepped behind him and smiled, gently tapping his shoulder. “You’re it.”

He looked at me with a scoff. “Pretty sure that’s cheating.”

“Pretty sure I don’t care,” I replied. 

“You know I’m just going to tag you once I’m finished with this drink, right?”

“You can try,” I egged on, sneaking back into the kitchen and sliding beside Santos to help wash the last dishes. 

Isaac was back to telling the whole kitchen his crazy stories bringing the entire kitchen to a loud clamor of laughter and comments. Because of the noise, I didn’t hear the steps as they settled in behind me until it was too late. Jake leaned over my shoulder and smirked, tapping my nose with his finger. “You’re it.”

He ducked away before I could splash him with dishwater. “I’m gonna tag you with this nasty wet hand!”

“Lookin forward to it, princess!” He yelled as he climbed the stairs toward the locker room.

Isaac leaned on the counter beside me, wiggling his eyebrows. “Princess?”

I splashed him. “Fuck off!”

Once the dishes had been put on the rack, the kitchen grew empty, and Santos and I walked upstairs to change. I smiled when I opened my locker and saw Jake’s jacket stuffed inside. Sneaky asshole. I shrugged it on, having forgotten to grab my own before returning his. One more night of wearing it wouldn’t kill me, and I’d gotten rather fond of how it smelled and felt around my shoulders.

Everyone was crowding around the bar when I got downstairs, everyone but Simone and Howard, of course. Howard smiled at me while Simone took one look at me, the jacket, and turned her face away. Jealousy didn’t look good on her. From behind the bar, Jake’s eyes ran down my outfit, and he smiled. I ignored how it made my stomach flip and how I wanted to make him smile again. 

“What are we talking about?” I asked, sliding into the seat beside Ari.

She smiled. “Tattoos. “

Sasha pointed at Jake’s arm. “We were just mocking Jakey’s shitty mermaid.”

I looked at the bartender’s modest mermaid tattoo on his inner arm. “Hey, that looks kind of like mine.”

“You’ve got a mermaid tattoo?” Jake asked with a smirk. “Show it to me.”

“No!”

Heather leaned in closer. “Ooohhh, I know what that means!”

Sasha and Ari cooed in my ears. “Where’s it at?”

“I bet it’s right over her pu-”

“I’m not telling any of you vultures!”

“Well, I know it’s not on your back,” Jake said smoothly, his smile never faltering.

I scoffed. “What happened to no peeking?”

He rolled his eyes. “I was always gonna peek, princess.”

Sasha nearly spat his drink out, wide eyes moving back and forth between the two of us. “Did Jakey finally take your flower, lovely Tiger Bitch?”

“No,” I replied, shoving him.

“Did get a pretty sweet view of you naked, though.”

“Bullshit!” I shoved a finger in his face. “If you’d have seen me naked, then you’d know exactly where the mermaid is.”

He lifted his chin up, smug and eating up all the attention. “Maybe I do.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t waste time demanding to see it.” I leaned back in my seat and smiled. “Shame, it’s in a good spot too.”

The cogs in his brain were practically visible as he thought about every possible location before leaning on the bar. “Ass?”

“Nope.”

“One of your boobs, then?”

“No,” I laughed. “And even if it was, you’d never get to see it.”

“Never say never.”

Sasha gagged. “If the two of you could just do the nasty already and quit the dirty talk, we would all appreciate it!”

Scott shook his head as he downed the last of his drink and stood. “Dinner, whose in?”

“I’m picking tonight!” Ari cheered over his shoulder, making the man wince.

“Great, everyone, prep your stomachs for some shitty Italian or something.” Ari punched him in the shoulder, and everyone laughed as we headed out the door.

*

As he walked beside Lena, Jake couldn’t shake the warning Simone had given him a few days ago in the diner or the looks she gave him each time he interacted with Lena. The redhead wearing his jacket laughed beside him at something Sasha had said from the front of the group. “Hey,” Jake said, pulling her lively green eyes to his. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ready for our question game already?” She teased with a smirk.

He couldn’t help but smile as well. “I was actually wondering something a bit more serious.”

“Oh?” She asked, tilting her head. “Well, I guess I could give you a freebie just this once.”

“How generous.”

She nudged him. “What’s on your mind?”

How was he supposed to start this? “I… I may have heard a few things about you that I wanted to ask about.”

“Well, there’s a good chance I’ll have answers. What did you hear?” She asked. 

“I heard you have a pretty extensive criminal record.”

Lena didn’t even bat an eye as she nodded. “Yeah, I do. Was there a particular crime you were curious about?”

Jake shrugged. “I guess I was just wondering how much of it was true.”

“Oh,” she said with a laugh. “Well, that’s easy then! I’ve got a lot of charges under my belt for fighting. It was all illegal rings, though, so no assault or anything crazy. Stealing was another big one. I don’t even know how many times I got busted for that.” She shook her head. “I was kind of shit at it.” She hummed quietly, trying to remember. “Oh, there’s drugs, obviously. Just buying, no distribution or smuggling or anything.”

“Any arson?” He asked.

She scoffed. “Okay, that one wasn’t on me! Some assholes were harassing Quinn at the club she works at, so she called me and Prue and Patrick to help walk her home. She didn’t tell us she’d dumped gasoline all over the sidewalk until after she lit the damn thing on fire to try and scare them. Bitch almost took off my eyebrows. Anyway, the cops showed up and arrested all of us. My dad and Ozzy were fucking pissed.”

Jake looked at her with furrowed brows. How the hell did she do this? Lena looked up at him and poked his forehead. “You do that more, and you’ll hurt yourself. What’s up?”

“Why are you so honest?” He asked.

“You asked,” she answered. “Did you want me to lie?”

“No,” Jake shook his head and chuckled. “I just… You’re just something else.”

She leaned closer to him and smiled. “Something good, I hope.”

Jake looked down at her and quietly agreed. She was something good. That night he watched her closely, trying to see what Simone did. Trying to figure out why she was so against him getting closer to the redhead, but the more he looked, the more he liked what he saw. As she tapped his shoulder and whispered another playful, “You’re it.” Jake threw all his notions of not knowing who Lena was out the window. He knew exactly who she was, and he trusted her.

*

I walked in the front door, quickly readjusting the straps of my dress before giving the hostess my name and telling her I was waiting for the rest of my party. Nicky spotted me from the bar and smiled. “Hey, Red, I thought today was your day off.”

“It is,” I answered, taking a seat at the bar. “I’m here as a guest tonight.”

“A guest,” he swooned. “Moving up in the world, are we?”

Jake returned from the back, pausing when he saw me. “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“Our little Red is a guest tonight,” Nicky said with a smile.

“A guest?” Jake pressed as he refilled the ice.

I scoffed. “I could be a guest.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Nicky asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No one,” I answered. “I’m here for a family dinner.”

Jake laughed at that. “Family dinner? I’m dyin’ to see what your family comes in lookin like.”

I nodded. “Me too. I told them it was upscale, but Ozzy’s version of that makes him look like an old victorian count and Patrick.” I winced. “Patrick is going to show up in something fucking hideous. So, I guess I should apologize in advance for you guys having to look at them all night.”

“Well, I don’t know about Nicky, but their outfits won’t bother me.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be too busy looking at yours.” He winked.

I turned my head away from Jake’s smile, an attempt to hide the blush that no doubt dusted my face with red. However, the sight waiting for me at the front was one that made me do a double take. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

[spicywhumper]

febuwhump 2024: day 22. "you weren't meant to be here" + @femslash-february bingo 2024 (dark edition): betrayal

series: untiles / rating: teen and up audiences

trigger/content warning: minor character death, implied past child abuse.

Suffice to say, I do not like being hundreds of kilometers away from solid ground. As safe as the station is, arguably safer than the ground, it’ll never be somewhere I want to be. But if Segal told to be here, I’ll be here, loosing my job is even more unpleasant than spending time on floating in a metal box in space.

At least, Fessender is here (she gets way too annoying if I date call her by her first name in any minimally professional setting). Which means that she’ll distract me by making me feel stupid with her endless rambling about whatever side project she’s working on.

“Davidson!” I hoped he wouldn’t be on her lab, Diana – I refuse to mentally refer to her as “Fessender” all the time – blinks at me like she didn’t expect me to be here. “Finally, took you long enough.”

“Well, sir, I can’t take a cab here,” he rolls his eyes, aware that I did take the first ship after he ordered me to come up here. “Why am I needed here?”

“Remember agent Doyle?” I nod. “She’s giving a presentation,” he points at Diana. “She’s going to need help with whatever they’re showing.”

“I mentioned a foot soldier,”  she’s frowning at him, she sounds so soft and gentle that it’s almost easy to not notice that she’s upset.

“Pretty sure Davidson is more than capable to do whatever you need.”

She nods: “I understand.”

“Good!” He beans, I’m not sure how I got myself a ray of sunshine as my boss. He nods at her, that’s when he’d grab your shoulder and give you a nice and friendly squeeze. She froze the one time he did it, so he never tried again. “I’ll be going now, she can explain whatever’s going on.”

Even with how he doesn’t step too closer to her personal space, Diana only relaxes when he’s out of the room. We don’t talk about it, we don’t need to talk about it, I’ve met her parents.

“So…”

“You weren’t meant to be here.”

“And I thought you liked me,” I fall on the chair I always use, she’s still frowning, Cute. “What Doyle and You are doing?”

“Weapon’s presentation.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“Not be there. It’s a weapon for footsoldiers.”

“That doesn’t make much sense, babe.”

“Don’t- you’re not supposed to use pet names here.”

“And?” She gestures between us. “You know you’re supposed to stay quiet about it.”

“I know, I know, sorry. But really, can’t I help?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” She sighs, defeated, and takes all my will power to not lean over the desk and kiss her all over her stupid cute face. “Go mingle around, I’ll check over the project with Doyle.”

“I know you, it’s already safe.”

“Yeah, I’d like to be double sure.”

That’s her way to all but kick me off her lab, she’s to nice to actually kick me out.

So I do go and mingle. As much as I might dislike staying up here, the regular agents are quite the pleasant people to be around. Half of them think Diana is the best person around, which makes them quite the approved people by me.

After a few hours of roaming the stupidly large space station, making small talk, one of the newer agents finds me and takes me to Diana’s lab.

Part of me really, really doesn’t like the way Doyle stands closer than every other person – except me. The rest of me isn’t pathetic and jealous and does like that she’s comfortable around someone else. Doyle’s sitting on the chair, reading something on the monitor in front of her, as Diana’s leaning over her shoulder and, I assume, commenting on what Doyle’s reading.

That’s her mentor, don’t be jealous. I clear my throat, Diana doesn’t jerk away like she probably would if there was something else going on in. Doyle looks up, acknowledges me and is back to what she has been reading.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Diana’s the normal amount of nervous she gets before any event where she has to interact with more than two people at once. She looks like she needs a hug – ok, she always looks like she needs a hug.

“What do you need me to do?”

“You’ll destroy a couple of dummies,” she nudges Doyle. “We’ll be late.” The agent nods and gets up. “Follow me.”

We do.

The room is packed with agents, from foot soldiers to high ranking agent, including Segal. He likes to sit among the other officials despite being the director. It’s an arena, it feels almost suffocating to be in the middle of it, dummies around me and Diana fussing over me and the weapon. It doesn’t look any different from regular shotguns, it’s incredibly heavier, like the other laser and light-based ones she designed before. That’s why they’re for guards that stay on one spot, snipers and such. More fitting me than foot soldiers.

The clock turns three in the afternoon, the arena’s light turn off.

What the fu- I hold the gun tighter, even if I’m not sure of its destruction power. The lights come back, dim and weak. Then there’s smoke. So. Much. Smoke. Thick, a sickening shade of green, smells foul, almost like rotting corpses. It seems to come from the ventilation system.

“Put the gun down,” the cold barrel of one presses against the back of my neck, Doyle’s voice is muffled. I obey on instinct.

People are coughing, it sounds wet and sick. Most of the smoke hover on the seats, the panicked agents are just shapes amidst the poisonous fog.

“What have you- what are you doing?” It’s hard to ask before I’m coughing. “Agent-”

“My job,” she grabs my shoulder to make me turn, the pain fills my chest and down my torso like liquid fire. She’s wearing a mask, I’ve seen Diana with one of those. Diana-

“What?”

“My job. The oh so called terrorists you’ve been fighting against,” her eyes are bright, I can almost see the twisted smirk on her. “The people that take in the agents harmed by your righteous agency. We’re weapons without a handler, you can say.”

There’s blood on my mouth: “I-” my knees hurt when they hit the metal floor.

“You weren’t meant to be here,” that’s not Doyle, I’m distracted by the pain just enough to not feel a second person approaching until the mask’ s pressed against my face. I grab the arm holding it in a desperate attempt to make it not go away. “I asked for a foot soldier.”

“Don’t whine, you did have an extra mask.”

Doyle’s the least important person on the room when Diana’s pressing the mask against my face, one on hers and her eyes shines in a shade of blue that looks haunting. Her other hand’s adjusting it on the back of my head.

“Diana…”

“I’m sorry,” all I can do is stare at her.

She looks apologetic, genuine, but also.. wrong.

“What have you done?”

“My job.”

[camthesolemnone]

Red Oktoberfest and Swordvan Headcanons: Yandere Mercs

Because I want to gosh dang it.

Red Oktoberfest

If Medic is the yandere:

.He constantly is checking up on Heavy’s physical and emotional health and will go to any length to get the medicine or care he needs.

.That being said, Heavy has been in poor emotional health ever since Medic kidnapped him.

.He truly wants to give Heavy freedom and let him roam the house, but he is also aware of Heavy’s strength and cunning, and knows he could escape easy if he unrestrained him for even a second.

.He hates seeing Heavy mopey all the time so Medic occasionally invites his family over with the conditions being he can’t talk about his situation and he needs to pretend they have an ordinary relationship. If Heavy even dares to try and steal a moment alone with his mother or one of his sisters to tell them the truth...Medic will make sure he never sees them again.

.He studies Heavy’s body often and showers him with praise; his anatomy and strength are what caused Medic to fall in the first place after all.

.Medic is a very violent yandere. Occasionally, Medic will ask Heavy about the people who have wronged him in his life, even if it was just someone who simply insulted him once. He will then mercilessly hunt them down, kidnap them, and bring them back to slaughter in front of Heavy thinking he will be satisfied with their death (when in reality, Heavy would not wish death upon anyone and screams at Medic to let them live).

.Calls Heavy cute pet names in German and uses a high, lovestruck voice only around him. If Medic is not with his Heavy, expect him to essentially growl at you.

If Heavy is the yandere:

.Not much changes at first. Sure Heavy becomes a little extra protective and waits on Medic like his personal servant, but those were already givens.

.Heavy is also a violent yandere but is also good at suppressing his anger/murders. He can kill someone who was flirting with Medic or whom caused a bad interaction and Medic will be none the wiser.

.Does not need to kidnap his lover because Medic already agreed to live with him. He also has little fear of Medic trying to run away, because from Medic’s point of view, he hasn’t done anything to raise any red flags.

.He talks about his obsession with Medic to his sisters for hours on end, to the point where they become concerned for him. They’re happy that he’s happy, but he’s also acting a bit creepy...

.Heavy will quite literally do anything Medic asks of him, even if it defies all common sense or morals, resulting in one time where he murdered their own team’s Spy in cold blood after overhearing Medic murmur “I wish Spy were dead.” (He was exaggerating)

.Medic only realizes how much danger he’s in when he tries to leave the house after he and Heavy get into an argument and Heavy will not let go of him.

.”It is a dangerous world, Doktor. But I can protect you from all of it. Heavy knows what’s best, I promise.”

Swordvan

If Sniper is the yandere:

.Similar to Heavy where he’ll kill anyone who messes with Demoman, but he’s discreet about it. His job already gives him all the tools he needs for a silent hit.

.A little bit awkward and new to romance, and also not as possessive as the others. But he still loves Demo deeply and can’t see himself with anyone else.

.Sniper is more likely to harm himself then Demoman if Demo ever tried to break things off because he refuses to lay a hand on his lover.

.Is in a weird limbo where he simltanueously respects Demo’s boundaries and also crosses them often, mainly if Demoman has fallen into a depressive episode.

.Puts a lot of effort into gifts and dates! Sniper’s not letting all of that mercenary bank go to waste. Demoman nearly cries when Sniper buys him a masterfully crafted, limited edition, Scotland-made sword for his collection from over a hundred years ago.

.They actually have a lot of healthy discussions and Sniper talks about how strongly he feels about Demo. He says that he’s afraid of hurting Demo in so many different ways and readily admits that he has a problem. Demo is slightly disturbed by the news of his obsession, but seeing how open he is about it, he’s willing to stay by his side and get him some help.

.He’ll never admit to Demo that the therapy didn’t work.

If Demo is the yandere:

.Demo doesn’t show his yandere/aggressive side often, but when he does, he becomes something out of a horror film. He’ll tie his victim up, force them to gargle potassium chlorate, and before the poison kills them, he’ll light a match and toss it into their mouth to blow their head off.

.He acts super puppy dog lovey and cuddly around Sniper, and Sniper appreciates the affection after so long of forcing himself to be distant from others.

.Demoman definitely has a shrine of stuff he stole from Sniper or the things he throws away. He hides it in a dresser drawer behind a bunch of beer bottles so nobody goes snooping.

.He’ll spoil Sniper rotten with gifts and words of affirmation. If he finds out a new way to make Sniper blush, he’ll abuse that weak spot for a solid week.

.If he ends up kidnapping Sniper, he’s smart about it and allows Sniper freedom and the lushest lifestyle he can afford so that Sniper doesn’t want to run away. It’s not like he had much of a good relationship with his parents anyway.

.Little does Demo know, Sniper has been harboring all of the fear and hatred deep down and desperately wants to get away.

.Sniper takes advantage of Demo’s softness and the freedom he gave him during an intimate moment to stab him and escape. Demoman cries out with the anger of a beast, but he can’t do anything as he bleeds out onto the ground.

[ohii-san]

yes tell us about eihiyo!!!!!

folds hands okay so . to me it's very fundamental that you keep in mind eichi and hiyori were childhood friends and they've known each other likely longer than keito has known eichi and i DON'T KNOW WHY THEY KEEP FUCKING DISREGARDING IT I HATE AKIRA anyway . i'll put it under the cut i know i am very rambly

edit; i hit the image limit i am not normal

so starting with checkmate which is translated by dreamwidth user shivalries but i have a screenshot of the wiki here no i don't how the fuck am i supposed to find it it's so far back in my gallery oh my god OH I GOT IT

it's like never stated when eihiyo meets but it's Obviously fairly young because of the way they refer to each other . i have insane bias so i put them as like toddler friends but realistically they may have met shortly before nagisa came into the tomoe family, since it's stated that the foundation is falling as of ! era meaning they were far more likely to have met years prior in its peak .

SO . let's look at what eichi says here . he says he's similar to hiyori by admitting it would be like looking at himself, and this is a sentiment they both repeat in other stories; i haven't read altered but i am so sure it probably echoes this . he also knows hiyori well enough to understand that they're not particularly amicable, nor is hiyori someone who's easy to deal with when he doesn't fancy it . additionally, in pretty mission, we get these interactions;

it's very likely the two of them attended social gatherings for high society families, which would also perhaps be where hiyori could vaguely know the himemiya family from aside from word of mouth ( it's established in a hiyori side story from ! that he has met tori before, but i believe tori says it was during his time with exfine ? )

we also get to see, in altered, that eichi is more than capable of courtesy and awareness of hiyori's false behaviors . he also says here that they've known each other a long time 🧐 fascinating . okay then . so they mutually understand one another and can't lie to each other ? sounds like something people in a FORMER RELATIONSHIP WOULD SAY !!!!!!! congrats to eichi for being the most divorced nineteen year old in the world

moving on . sorry for the poor image quality i combined two screenshots so i could add the altered one since i NEED people to see it

moving onto summer live which ummm was done by kotofucius ( a long inactive tl :( hope they're okay ) right here, but i have screenshots from the wiki saved so it's what you get lol ❤️ anyway hiyori states it's been a long time since he's seen eichi, and we know this is after the war so we can assume hiyori and eichi more or less fell out after hiyori transferred to reimei . tsumugi states ( in a story i can't recall ? may be ss ) that he keeps in contact with hiyori and nagisa, and that ibara ( <- i believe he says "that kid" or something though, referring to nagisa's roommate and partner, who is ibara ) has helped nagisa grow as a person etc etc so Why did hiyori ghost eichi 🧐 but it's easy enough to understand .

i accidentally grabbed so many screenshots but wonder game gives us a decent glimpse into their dynamic too .

i put them all side by side on mobile to save space a little but the gist of this is that eichi is . very .. aware ? of hiyori's personality and mannerisms, and feels comfortable calling them out . hiyori is someone who canonically wears a facade so imo it's very interesting that eichi calls his bluffs, points out his flaws, etc without much thought at all . they're obviously close and well acquainted no matter how much they appear to hate one another .

we see it later in summer live too, he advises hokuto almost nonstop for the trickstar/eve meeting because he understands hiyori and grasps quite well that he's difficult when he wants to be, which is exactly how he ends up acting with hokuto; really the only reason they get through that meeting is eichi's guidance and hokuto getting pissed off enough to get hiyori to respect him . a tiny bit .

also, in wonder game again, we get to see the fact that hiyori is eventually dedicated to eichi's cause despite hating him . in my opinion this is hiyori deflecting; i believe they're actually much closer than either of them admit in ! era stories ( which is Basically all i've referenced so far ), and their !! banter is definitely meant to be read as far more playful

hiyori acknowledges eichi's dedication and seems to admire it, and also shut up look at what hiyori says in summer live you will not believe this shit

?!?!?!?!?! BUT YOU PERFORM WITH EICHI AND WORK ALONGSIDE HIM . YOU DON'T HATE HIM YOU BIG BITCH BABY JESUS CHRIST !!!! ohhh my god they're so insufferable okay . i'm running out of intelligent thought but i hope you now understand that eichi and hiyori do definitely respect one another, they work well together, i believe hiyori had a crush on eichi as a child and they ( like reichi ) have insane divorced energy . their fights in !! are much more tame compared to them outright saying "i hate you" HAHAH . going back to that second pretty mission screenshot ( as i said at the top, i hit the image limit ), you can definitely read it in a way more amicable teasing kind of way . i would also like to give a shoutout to this white brim moment where hiyori smacks eichi for pretending to die and traumatizing tori . real exes behavior idk personally i wouldn't assault people i wasn't close with HAHAH i also want to mention *this* white brim moment where eichi says that hiyori has been a maid, presumably worn a maid dress also ( for him ?!?!? ) before . it's probably a reference to them playing as children but i am losing my goddamn mind at the idea of like 15/16 year olds eihiyo fucking around and making a bet which ends with hiyori serving eichi .

okay i need to shut up this has been so much please read white brim ( i haven't even read it in full ) and wonder game THANK YOU FOR LISTENING PLEASE SEE MY VISION I SPENT AN HOUR TYPING ALL OF THIS AND GATHERING SCREENSHOTS

[ecargmura]

Whisper Me A Love Song Episode 7 Review - Meritocracy & Mediocracy

Meritocracy slaps. The animation, though? Mediocracy. Unfortunately, having an abrupt animation studio change is really harming this anime a lot. The band sequences are important for a show that has a band theme and having both bands lacking something in animation really hurts me. For example, for the SSGirls performance, Mari, the drummer, doesn’t appear in the panned-out group shot when it’s shown from other angles that the drums are right behind Yori. She also has her mic missing in some shots too. For Laureley, the performance was great. The song is addicting, but Shiho juggles through singing with and without a mic in some shots. Look, I don’t want to get too critical of the animation because it’s not terrible like how people on Twitter are exaggerating it to be. I consider it subpar. One of the animators for the show even replied to a poster saying that they had a lot of time constraint because each episode has to be out three days before airing so they’re on a time crunch to edit. Given the state of animators in Japan, I really do feel bad for the ones working on this show. It’s not their fault that they had to get everything handed to them all of a sudden.

Animation ramblings aside, I did like this episode. I liked learning more about Shiho. All I can say is that she seems like a complicated person. She’s someone who has her own visions when it comes to music and often clashes with her band members to the point that she quits. Job hoppers exist in real life, so she’d be a band hopper—a red flag member, in all honesty. Despite Shiho’s rather complicated personality and behavior, I can’t really seem to hate her; rather than liking her, I feel a little neutral? I understand her creativity. She may seem entitled, but she has her opinions and visions. I guess as a creator myself, I understand why she’s like this. Though, what’s not nice is to insult other people who worked as hard as you did. Shiho’s major flaw is that her personality sucks. Her story with Aki does hint that her falling out with SSGirls does have to do something with Aki’s feelings for Yori as she’s aware of them. I’m theorizing that she has feelings for Aki, but since it’s unrequited, she takes out her frustrations on the band. Aki just can’t catch a break.

I guess the reason why I don’t really hate Shiho is the fact that she’s rather nice to Himari. Being nice to someone like her shows that she’s not all that bad as she’s made out to be. Though, given that she doesn’t know Himari’s girlfriend is Yori, who is Aki’s crush, I’m actually afraid of what’s to come when she does find out. If Shiho does something bad, my opinions of her will go into the negatives.

The YoriHima moments are so cute with the two getting closer than before. They progressed to hand-holding and Himari feeling jealous. It’s a nice progress. All I pray is for nothing bad to happen to these two. The last thing I need is for them to be collateral damage to the whirlwind that is Shiho.

I do wonder where the story will head now that it’s taken a rather dramatic turn with Shiho and Aki seemingly being the focus now. I just hope it doesn’t turn into a train wreck. Oh, speaking of which, the lyrics for Meritocracy is like Shiho’s feelings about her ideals and her feelings for Aki in a way? Will Momoka get a love interest too? What are your thoughts on this episode?