#online Assurance Assignment Help

[navydoves]

Can't do these without my help, can you?

✎ᝰ. summary: going out of his way to become your tutor, caleb is right where he wants to be when you invite him over.

✎ᝰ. cw: dom!caleb, tutor!caleb, perversion, semi-masturbation, panty ADDICT, freako caleb, a creampie, dirty talk, just a little degradation, orgasm-denial if you squint, caleb is very needy 4 u and also a little obsessive

✎ᝰ. wc: 4.1k

✎ᝰ. a/n: i'm not particularly interested in caleb as a li, but i hope i did his writing justice. i also wrote this all in one go for u crazy freaks. enjoy!

𖤐

light, fruity, feminine; that was the inviting smell of your room that greeted caleb every time he came over for a session. your walls were adored with small posters of your favourite medias, and over them, warm fairy lights were strung to create a very home-y, gentle atmosphere. your room was a direct reflection of you, someone who was just as inviting and gentle, someone who was just as warm and feminine. he was obsessed.

he's observed you from afar for a while now as the girl who seemed unreachable, untouchable. he would purposefully sit in the row behind you during lecture hall to keen himself in on what you were jotting down in your notes or searching up on your computer. you were never secretive about it, not even when you browsed online stores or your clicked through social media during class.

sometimes he would drop whatever he was doing when he saw you on campus—with your friends or sometimes not. he preferred when you were alone. he never followed you anywhere, no, but he would take mental notes of where you frequented and with whom. he felt like a weirdo at first, staring at you like this and getting to know you well enough to be mistaken for your friend. but that feeling had long past, long after he actually became your friend.

it took a bit of courage and time from him to work himself up to the challenge of simply talking to you, but it was easier than he thought once he actually approached you. you were sociable, kind, so warm. it also helped that caleb knew all of your interests already and was a great conversationalist when it came to things he was passionate about. no, not your favourite band, but you.

he found himself only growing more infatuated with your person as time went on. you entrusted him quickly; he knew he was very charming and welcoming as a person, so when you started confiding in him, details of your personal life, he happily listened. he hated when you talked about previous relationships or other guys you were currently looking at. has all the effort he has put in to get close to you been in vain?? he dismissed those conversations; he hated those men.

it was only when you started talking about your assignments that caleb began to become interested again. something about caleb was that, despite not really trying, he was a prodigy in school. it was the reason why he could get away with gawking at you in class without failing. and now, hearing you complain about classes he had found easy—even while sleeping through them—he realized he had another way into your life. his intelligence was a gift that kept on giving, it seemed.

when he first offered to tutor, you were skeptical. apparently, you had tried tutors in the past and none of them really helped, but caleb assured you that he would be different - that he would actually help. you reluctantly agreed and insisted on paying him despite his refusal. seeing you privately, teaching you, guiding you was more than enough to satisfy caleb in every way, but you were a feisty one.

the first time came caleb came over for a tutoring session, he almost came in his pants just stepping into that fruity-scented room of yours and had to wait until you left for the bathroom to let out a soft groan of pleasure. he wasn't sure why he was so aroused by just being in your room like this, you hadn't even done anything but get most of the questions wrong on your calculus practice exam. there's no reason for his cock to be twitching in his pants like this every time he looked up at you.

the feeling of restraint was a nice one to caleb, though. every time he packed his bag before heading off to your place for a session, he knew he would spend the next hour or two trying not to get his dick all hard. he's felt it before; your form so close to his that the heat radiating off of you sent jolts straight down to his cock, and still, he had to resist getting fully erect. something about being denied that pleasure because he could get caught by you was exhilarating, it made him lightheaded. but he questioned, when was denial going to eat away at him?

caleb was a good tutor, a great one in fact. since the day he was hired, you've improved significantly in all of your most hated subjects. he's turned around the pattern of unreliable tutors you've had in the past, which is why he thinks you decided to continue your sessions even through spring break. on any normal basis, caleb would reject the offer. spring break was his time to leave the campus behind and take a flight somewhere deserted. but for you? he'd stay nailed to your room floor if you so wanted.

"caleb's here!" he chirps happily as he knocks on your apartment door. he hears scuffling from afar followed by the nearing pitter-patter of your footsteps. he watches as the door unlocks and opens for him, you shorter form - clad in shorts and loose shirt - standing behind it with a gentle smile.

"hey, come in. sorry, was cleaning out my backpack." you step aside for him and then turn your back to him as you motioned for him to follow you into your room. that gesture was enough to already get his hormones erratic.

caleb tightens his grip on his bag and uses other hand to wave dismissively while following you to your bedroom. "nah, you're all good. you doing some spring cleaning?" he asks with a playful lilt to his voice. he steps into your room and glances around, trying not to make it obvious to you that he was getting a little antsy.

"uh, something like that," you answer while situating yourself on a cushion behind your small floor table. right next to you, was where caleb usually sat. "i just need my backpack empty for when class starts up again. i get overwhelmed with all the papers but never end up doing anything about it." you lug the backpack in question off from the table pull out the textbooks you were gonna use to study today.

caleb nods at your words and realizes he should be making himself at home too. he drops his bag beside the table and moves to the cushion next to you, glancing over at the textbook name. "more math?" he asks in a laugh.

you sigh in exasperation and shrug. this was the subject most of your study sessions were about. "i can't do any type of math, it's actually kinda funny how bad i am." you wrap one arm around caleb's neck and pull him into a good-natured side hug. "but that's why you're here!"

caleb immediately tenses up in your embrace. oh fuck, this difficult task of not creaming his pants was already proving to be extreme, and he had barely been in your house for five minutes. despite his struggle, he didn't want to pull away from you, fearing you would take it as rejection, but your proximity and scent was already making him dizzy.

thankfully you peeled yourself off of him before he could let a pathetic moan slip out. with a grunt, he shifts himself on the cushion and zeros in his attention to the textbook you opened. he watches you flip through the pages, saying something about the professor being annoying—or was it the work? he wasn’t sure; he was already too far gone.

"s-so, how much work am i helping you with here? ya gonna suck up day one of my spring break dry?" caleb chuckles, trying to distract himself from the ache in his body.

"i won't keep you long," you sigh, "i already feel bad making you help me over our break. it'll be short, don't worry."

he nods again, but your words make him feel conflicting turmoil. he wanted to stay, but the longer he did, the greater the risk of him busting a nut right there on your carpet. he had been suppressing his arousal for months and he was now reaching his limit.

"no it's okay, take as much of my time as you need," caleb responds with a smile that was slightly forced. the will of god himself could not ameliorate the amount of horny caleb had built within him - but caleb was stronger than god in that room.

the next hour consisted of you brushing against him, teasing him, asking him questions in a cute, confused tone. he was losing his composure so quick that an erection was inevitable for him despite the restraint. he placed his bag over his lap so that it wasn't so obvious, but he knew at some point, he was gonna have to take it off. going to your bathroom to relieve himself was also not a solution, considering your bathroom shared a wall with your room and you would be able to hear the groans of your name that he needed to say to be able cum.

"do you want something to eat?" you suddenly ask after you triumphantly finished another practice sheet from the textbook. "you've been here for a while, i can see what i have in the kitchen."

caleb almost jumped for joy. yes, please leave the room, please he can't take it anymore. you're so much. "i-i wouldn't mind it, thanks. take your time, you've been working hard." he watches you smile and nod before leaving the room, leaving him inside alone.

. . . he shouldn't . . . he shouldn't. he had to respect the home you so graciously invited him into and he shouldn't. but the erection in his pants was so overwhelmingly distracting that if he had any chance of being good tutor for the rest of his time here, he needed to relieve himself.

caleb pushes himself off the cushion and lets his bag fall from his lap. he quietly strides to your dresser and has one final moral dilemma in his head before opening one of the cabinets. these were your shirts. he opens another one - your socks. then another - your bras. the bras were tempting, he wouldn't lie, but they weren't what he was looking for. but then he hit the top drawer which looked like a gold mine to him - your panties. he groans into his palm before haphazardly picking up a pink one and closing the cabinet.

quickly, he brings it to his nose and begins palming himself through his pants. fuck, this was better than any jack-off session he's ever had with porn - and he wasn't even really touching his cock. stumbling around like a man drunk, he bends over your bed with his nose deep into the pussy lining of your panties. pre-cum soaked his own underwear and he could only hope that it wouldn't seep into his pants. he needed this; like a man needed water he needed your pussy overtaking him like this.

the pleasure hazing his mind only amplified when he caught glimpse of your laundry hamper in the corner. his eyes blew wide, the purple of his irises gone as his pupils dilated at a new idea. he rushes over to the hamper and digs through the top pieces of clothes with one singular prayer in his mind.

please, please, please.

and maybe his prayers worked, maybe god was actually with him because he found exactly what he was risking his entire reputation for - a dirty, used panty that had all of your natural musk on it, uncovered by detergent and fully soaked with every acidic smell of your pussy. the moment caleb brings the red fabric to his nose, he lets out the loudest groan he's ever allowed himself to do in your house. what he would give for this to be your actual soaking, wet heat covering his face. he was almost tempted to pull out his cock right there and use your underwear as a make-shift pocket pussy, but he thought against it.

you'd be back any minute now. he didn't know what you were making, and it made him nervous. there was a difference in time between slicing apples and cooking those struggle-meal noodles on the stove, and he was none-the-wiser as to what you were doing. but he didn't want to move. he really didn't. he growls at the dilemma, but despite the disagreements happening in his brain his body wasn't moving.

caleb moves the panties back a few inches to get a good look at it. it was stained with a bit of discharge and other feminine fluids that he couldn't be sure of, but that didn't stop him from what he did next. he brings the crotch of your panties to his mouth and clamps down on it, sucking it vigorously in attempts to taste every second that you wore this. there was a tangy taste on his mouth that he learned in that second was the taste of you - and that realization itself made his balls clench up, readying to spill in his pants. he quickly moves his hand away from his erection imprint to stall his orgasm but cries out softly from the denial. thankfully, the cloth of your panties muffled his voice.

everything became a second thought, though, when he heard the change in your footsteps from outside. you were no longer walking on the tiles of your kitchen, but instead the wooden floors of the common room. caleb clambered to pile all of the discarded dirty laundry back into the hamper but kept the saliva drenched panties in his pocket. he shuffled back to the cushion behind your small table and tensed up as your footsteps neared. his heart had never pounded like this, not even during training season back when he was in the army for piloting.

you clicked open the door and smiled sheepishly at caleb with a tray of various finger foods. "hey, sorry for the wait," you hum, "i quickly realized i didn't have full meals on deck to make you so i just opted for like a…. snack tray?" you bent over and placed the tray on the table in front of caleb with an inviting gesture, telling him to eat.

caleb flits his gaze up to you before looking away in slight shame. "no it's alright, i actually had a pretty big breakfast so a few snacks is just what i need." he laughs like normal but there was anxiety simmering within his body at the situation he put himself in. all this for an orgasm he couldn't even have? doesn't matter, he'll have a jerk-off session so intense later that he'll colour your panties his cum-shade of white.

it was the anxiety in his chest, though, that made him flinch at your sudden gasp. he sits up, startled and furrows his brows. but before he could ask anything, you move toward your bed and pick up a discarded pair of pink panties that were laying there.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he forgot to put them back in the drawer and left them there like an idiot. fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

before caleb could drop to his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, you beat him to it.

"i.. am so sorry, i have no idea how long those have been there for. agh, this is so embarassing!" you squeal while snatching them off your bed and throwing them into your top drawer without so much as caring to fold them. caleb looks at you dumbfoundedly with a slack jaw which you took as an expression of disgust. you turn your body away from his direction and shield your eyes from the world as shame boiled within your stomach.

caleb looks around the room like he was being duped. so god was actually here with him, protecting his perversion from ever being know. but yet, while he could get away with unscathed, there was something about your naivety that really created an itch. almost caught, once again; denial felt so good up until this point and he could take no more. he stands and glances down at his still prominent erection before moving behind where you stood. he places his hands on your hips and his chin atop your shoulder, coaxing you to move back against his body.

"i… can't take it much longer, yknow?" he murmurs with an uncharacteristically calm voice. he presses his hips to your backside, letting you feel his large, hard erection dig into your body and letting you know that he was in need. "tell me to leave. tell me to fuck off and i will and i'll never even look in your direction again. i've never had a woman drive me so crazy that i couldn't even step foot in her room without losing my mind."

you tense at both caleb's words and the poking sensation you felt in your back. you almost couldn't believe what was happening - all so fast too. one moment you were pouring stale pretzels into a small bowl for the two of you and the next you were pressed up against your tutor's hard cock. you felt a little speechless.

"caleb… i… i don't know what to say," you whisper, "what is this? what is happening?"

"i don't know how to make this clearer for you," he rumbles, "i feel like a bitch in heat. what you should say is that you want me out of your fucking house and to never contact you again, that's the script here. i'm not paid to be here and fucking lust over you but i am, and i need to go."

the non-existent distance between you two only made it harder for caleb to conceal the extent of his desire. his cock throbbed like it was trying to free itself from the confines of his pants. you took a long time to respond - or at least it felt incredibly long to caleb's distorted mind. but that distortion came to an end when you turned your head back to look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. your expression was unreadable.

"but what if i don't want you to leave?"

𖤐

"fuck. that's my nasty girl. that's my little slut," caleb grunts in your ear. your legs quiver in an attempt to hold themselves up against him at the ninety-degree angle you were in. the only support you were given were caleb's hands bruising into your hips and holding you still as he battered into from behind. every thrust from him threatened to topple you over flat onto your stomach and atop the small table underneath you.

"c…caleb! caleb, agh!" you cried with your head tucked into your chin.

"yes, pretty girl? is it too much for you?" caleb mocked you. "i told you to kick me out, i told you didn't i?" his pace didn't relent at your cries, not one bit. he's waited so long for this. he's waited so long to feel your cunt squeezing him like this. his imagination compared nothing to the real feeling of your slick, fluffy pussy sucking him in and constricting around his cock so eagerly. you were enjoying it too, he could tell. the way you cried out his name like that - all honeyed. you gave into his perversion so easily it almost makes him wish he did it earlier.

"mmngh… fuuuck, you're tightening around me so good. have you also thought about me fucking you senselessly like this? 'cause this pretty pussy ain't letting me go." caleb grins and leans back to get a better view of his cock pounding into your creamed cunt. the sight of his thickness disappearing within you only to come back out coated in more of your arousal left him feeling insatiable. every thrust squelched out shared juices onto the below table and covered your classwork, consequently drenching them in slick and arousal.

"c-caleb, m…my work… fuck… i-i need that," you whine. caleb grins and shrugs; his pace still wasn't relenting and he certainly wasn't moving you elsewhere. your pussy was nice and delicious just like this.

"get new copies," he grunts, "and then you can invite me over again to help you. after all, you can't do these without my help, can you?"

caleb leans over your back and fully wraps his arms around your midsection for better, deeper thrusts. every slide in ensured that every inch of him down to his ballsack was burrowed into you; every slide out ensured that the curve of his cock dragged your pussy walls with it. the noises between your bodies were abhorrently obscene and echoed in your room with each sloppy thrust. you've never been fucked so hungrily in your life up until the monster cock that was caleb's.

caleb kept one strong bicep wrapped around your waist to hold you still while the other moved down to your clit. his fingers deftly played with your swollen nub, moving it in circles and pinching it to help you build up an orgasm. you squealed at the extra sensation of pleasure coming from in-between your legs, it was so strong that you almost buckled over from overstimulation.

caleb simply laughs at you and toys with your bundle of nerves even more. "feel good?" he purrs. "keep me around for these tutoring sessions and i'll give you much more than a few As. i'll give you my cock and reward you for doing so well. do you want that? do you wanna get drunk on my cock for being such a good girl?"

he was taunting you, clearly, but a two-in-one deal of good grades and good dick was tempting. despite being a withering mess who was getting her cunt squashed with each passing second, you managed to suck in a breath and whimper out an answer. "ngh… y…yes, i want that."

"what was that? couldn't hear you, honey," he sneers. "i'm not the type of guy to just take what i want, y'know? i want my girl just as eager as me. do i have to ask you again?"

"n-no, i want it!"

caleb smirks. "that's it. nasty thing ~."

with his ego stroked by your words, caleb increases the speed of his thrusts vigorously. he's held back an orgasm so diligently this entire time for the sake of savoring your sloppy wet cunt. but now, knowing he'll be back here in due time to do this all over again, he no longer has to deny himself the beauty of orgasming inside of you.

you beat him to it. your legs failed you as soon as your orgasm hit and left you limp in caleb's arms. he was strong enough to catch you and hold you up against him which left your legs dangling mid-air. you couldn't even yell or scream as you came, your voice was entirely gone and all that was left were a few weak squeaks coming from your throat. your sweet walls contracted around caleb so strongly that you could feel his struggle to move.

he groaned loudly in your ear and then practically whimpered your name. you were tight since he first sank into your warmth, but this was another level of constriction that he didn't think was possible. his hips stuttered pathetically as they could no longer sustain a rhythmic pattern. he gave out right there. his cock pulsed in you like a second heartbeat as a deep wave of semen filled the hilt of your pussy and gushed out from your folds from the overflow.

caleb went silent as his own voice was stolen by the insurmountable pleasure he was feeling. he was pumping spurt after spurt within you, and he could only blame the months he's lived so pent up. he groans again; eyes water slightly from the intensity of the euphoria. "oh my god…" he whispers.

the both of you wait until the strength of your orgasms subsided before even facing each other. caleb nudges your cheek with his nose but your eyes were closed in exhaustion. with the little energy he had left, he slipped out of your sticky pussy and carried you a few feet to your bed. he laid you down gently and took the time to appreciate the view. the girl he's been obsessing for better half of the year was now fucked and filled, good and well by him. you looked too pretty like this; he was sure he was looking at perfection.

caleb lays down next you on your bed and cups your cheek. he was worried that this was an all too familiar gesture, but having your cervix filled with his cum was probably a little more intimate. as your eyes flutter open to meet caleb's, he smiles and hums.

"you're mine now."

𖤐

[mickyschumacher]

[I THINK HE KNOWS!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a fake and curated date in italy on valentine's day is no one's idea of fun except a publicist’s. but all it does is take a walk around monza to know the difference between what's real and what's fake.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, poor humour, fake dating trope, reader is a graduate uni student, lando being a dream boyfriend, kinda suggestive at the end, mentions of horrible fans and privacy invaded, me knowing nothing about italy let alone lombardy at the end as well.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.3k

𝐀/𝐍: third fic of my series! i really loved writing this one! fake dating is always such a hit or miss to write about but in this case, it was a lot easier. hope you enjoyed it!♡︎ // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Life’s a funny thing really. Full of mistakes leaving you wondering how you ever got there.  

And as you sat on a bench, looking over at the view of Lake Como in Lombardy, Italy, with ‘hidden’ paparazzi down the street, you began wondering the exact same thing.  

“How long do you think they’ll be here?” You queried, turning your body to face Lando.  

Lando tilted his head, resting his cheek in his hand as he leaned on the top of the bench. His blue eyes briefly raked over you and then where the paparazzi hid. He looked over at his watch. “Give or take twenty minutes. They’ll probably be hungry for actual food soon.”  

You withheld your sigh. How did you get here? Time sure had flown as seven months ago you were just a graduating university student with loan after loan on her shoulders. The very student who still decided to have a sweet treat after handing in her assignment and headed to your favourite cafe. The very student who bumped into Lando Norris and had her bracelet snag on the sleeve of his jacket, landing you in a compromising position as you tried to take it out.  

The very student who woke up the next day with her entire privacy invaded as ‘fans’ hunted you online and seemingly decided not only were you Lando’s girlfriend but the ‘perfect match’. 

That was you.  

Mere hours later, you had Lando’s publicist and underlings knocking at your door with a comprehensive contract and a promise to pay your student loans and pay you. You didn’t think it would last this long. Three months tops... surely. 

So, you signed it. A contract declaring that you were fake dating Lando Norris.  

They said it would help Lando’s image. And help it did. Lando had never looked better to his sponsors. Apparently dating a university graduate makes you look more polished and mature, enough to at least secure a dozen contracts. Most fans seemed to love you. Even the driver’s had taken a liking to you.  

But to you, Lando, and a handful of selectively picked people, this was all fake.  

Every decision was carefully made. The matching jewellery, what he said, what you posted, where you met, the hugs, the arms around the waist, the staring, the kisses... 

And six months later, here you were. On a curated date with the Lando Norris at Lake Como on Valentine’s Day – the third day of your trip. You had both compromised, agreeing to each make a list of things so do in Lombardy, two of which had to be a couple’s activity for the sake of it.  

You had completed most of both of your lists. A visit to Teatro Alla Scala, an opera theatre (your idea, obviously). A guided tour Villa Del Balbianello because Lando needed to see some more real-life scenes of Star Wars (mostly ended up taking photos of you the entire time). An agreed night out from the both of you to Navigli to consume ‘local food.’  

Lando, who desperately wanted to have walk around Lake Como, was sorely disappointed when he spotted the paparazzi hiding around the corner. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching your fingers trail the cracks in the wooden bench.  

“It’s okay,” you assured. “It’ll be over soon anyways.” 

Lando knew you were talking about the paparazzi. But he couldn’t help but think about your relationship with him.  

That day at the cafe... the only reason people thought you two were in a relationship wasn’t just because you were barely a centimetre apart trying to remove your bracelet but in all the photos people had captured, Lando was staring at you like it was love at first sight.  

And before he knew it, everything had gone down. The fans, his publicist, the media... it was a shitshow. And then you showed up two days later having signed a contract to be his fake girlfriend.  

Lando hated it. Fuck, he hated it so much. He hated that he dragged you into this. He hated that every moment with you was planned. And he especially hated that he couldn’t like you openly. Not with you thinking it was fake.  

Lando looked down back at his watch. He sighed, leg beginning to shake out of impatience. 

You raised a brow. Naturally, you put a hand on his arm. “Lando... is everything okay?” 

Lando flickered his eyes to your hand and back to your face. He moved his arm from your grasp, grabbing your hand instead. “Come on. We’re leaving,” he stated.  

Your eyes widened as he stood up, bringing you up with him. “W-What? Lan–we’re supposed to leave in thirty minutes,” you murmured quietly, leaving only him to hear your voice.  

“I don’t care,” he started, increasing his walking pace. “Whatever you do... just hold on to me, okay?” 

You furrowed your brows. “Lando, what are-” 

Abruptly Lando paused in his steps. He turned to you, blue eyes staring hard back at you. “Do you trust me?” 

“I–” 

“Do you trust me? Yes, or no?” He repeated softly. 

You gulped nervously, unable to look away from him. “Yes.” 

A look of relief washed over his face as he nodded. “Good. Then hold on. And don’t let go.” 

“Lando, I still don’t get what you–MEAN!” You yelped as Lando began running in no particular direction. You tightened your grasp on his hand while your legs struggled to catch up to him. The problems of having an athlete boyfriend.  

The wind felt serene. The sun was oddly warm despite it being the winter season. It was as though spring was trying to come a little early. All the early architecture you had seen on the way here was beginning to blur into one uniform colour. You weren’t sure where you were going or why but all you knew was that you were going way too fast.  

“Lando! I swear to God, if you get us killed–” 

“You said you trusted me,” Lando yelled back, cautiously looking over his shoulder. He could see the paparazzi struggling to follow the both of you.  

You panted, pushing your legs to keep up. “I do! Breaking into a sprint all of a sudden with no idea in mind, however, begs a slightly different answer.” 

Lando couldn’t help but laugh over the air and God, did you love it. You had heard of people saying that a laugh could sound like music to one’s ears. You never understood it. It was a laugh. A reaction. How could it be musical? But in that moment, you understood. It wasn’t just the laugh. It required the context, the smile, the thought... and only then did it become an orchestrated musical masterpiece.  

Another yelp left your mouth as Lando pulled you to the side, situating yourselves in an empty shaded alleyway. You rested your back as comfortably as you could against the stone while Lando stood in front of you, hand still wrapped around yours.  

You both waited quietly. Turning your head slightly, you could see a small flock of black clothed paparazzi walk by, all ushering and yelling, mystified to how you both had disappeared.  

“Okay,” you swallowed hard, turning back to Lando. “I think they’re...” You seem to have lost your ability to speak as you found Lando staring at you. It had been a common occurrence within the past few months and it never got any easier. “They’re gone,” you confirmed, chest heaving.  

“You should probably start joining me on my workouts,” he mumbled, eyes flickering over you again, absorbing the sight of the thin sheet of sweat across your skin.  

You narrowed your eyes, moving your hand from his grasp to hit him with the side of your bag. A groan fell from his lips. “Ow!” He yelled, making you clasp a hand over his mouth. Your head darted to the side, checking whether anyone heard him.  

“What was that for?” He queried after you removed your hand from his mouth.  

“For being an asshole. And for making me run. Which reminds me... why did you make us run?” You queried with a more than unhappy tone.  

Lando grinned. “We still have one thing on your list to do.” 

You furrowed your brows. “I didn’t add anything else.” 

Lando’s hand rummaged through the pocket of his shorts, taking out a familiar piece of paper – the very one you had written all your activities on. And right at the bottom was an activity you thought you tore off.  

Your eyes widened, hand darting out to grab the piece of paper but Lando was too quick. “Nuh-uh,” he tutted, holding the paper close to him. “I’m getting this framed.” 

You skin burned at his words. You clearly remembered what you wrote.  

Walk the Monza track with Lando (and preferably some gelato). 

“I was supposed to take that off,” you mumbled.  

Lando frowned. “You don’t want to do it? Or did you not want to do it with me?” 

You blinked blankly at Lando. “Are you stupid? Did you read the same thing I did? Obviously with you. I just... we’ll probably get mobbed so it’s a stupid idea.” 

Lando understood what you meant. Visiting in Italy for two days now had proven to be incredibly difficult with a fan asking for a photo every other minute. He was appreciative that you were so understanding but he felt awful. 

“Yeah... I mean it would be crazy if you had a boyfriend who could rent out the entire track for a couple of hours,” Lando yawned, stretching his arms nonchalantly.  

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see your mouth fall open. “Lando... you didn’t.” 

Lando rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand once again. “I did. Now come on. We’re going to be late!”  

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

You blinked blankly once you arrived to the empty Monza track. You had preoccupied yourself in the car ride here, pointing out all the interesting things you were seeing as Lando drove to the track. You were going to fall asleep if you hadn’t arrived there any earlier. But now that you were... you didn’t think your eyes could get any wider.  

“Is that a...” You turned to Lando with twinkling eyes.  

“Just go pick your flavour,” he narrowed his eyes.  

A squeal fell from your lips and before you knew it, you were hugging Lando tightly. You could feel his arms wrap around your waist, happily accepting your hug. “Thank you,” you murmured next to his ear.  

Lando smiled calmly despite his heart beat pounding in his ears. He was sure he could stay like this forever if he could. “You’re welcome. I... It’s so much less than what you deserve, but it’s all I could think to do given the... circumstances.”  

You stared at the pavement of the track heavily, Lando’s words swirling around your head. Right... the circumstances. You cleared your throat, pulling away from him even though you could’ve sworn you felt him tighten his grasp momentarily.  

“Come on. Pick your flavour or I’m just going to get you all chocolate,” you called out, waking over to the gelato cart he had hired. 

Lando sighed, briefly making a disgusted expression. He followed after you with a small smile. Despite the wind, he could still smell you on him.  

You greeted the cart owner, excitedly eyeing all the gelato flavours. There were so many to choose from... how were you ever going to pick? “Can I get...” 

“She’ll get mango, chocolate, raspberry, and lemon in a cup,” Lando finished, hovering behind you.  

You gaped, snapping your head to Lando. “How did you know?” 

“Better question is,” Lando started, resting his mouth right above your shoulder and near your ear, “why wouldn’t I?” 

You shivered at his words, cheeks burning at the small grin playing on his lips. “I’m not sharing any of mine,” you muttered, moving your eyes to the gelato.  

Lando pouted teasingly. “Please,” he sung, tilting his head so you could see him blink his eyes rapidly. 

You gulped, taking a step away before you succumbed to his wishes. “I think I’m going to throw up.” 

Lando gasped. “So rude!” 

You chuckled taking the cup of gelato while thanking the owner. Lando narrowed his eyes at you, ordering his own combination of pistachio, melon, and orange.  

You made a face at his cup as he walked towards you. “There is something so wrong with you.” 

Lando rolled his eyes, nudging you forwards to the entrance of the track. “Just be quiet and walk.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

You and Lando walked comfortably at your own pace around the track, eating your gelato while he explained parts of the track or its history.  

“I’m not gonna lie,” you started, finishing your spoonful of raspberry, “Curva Parabolica makes me feel sick. Every time it came on the TV, I thought I was going to throw up.” 

Lando raised a brow, resting his spoon in his cup. “I thought you didn’t watch them?” 

It was always Lando’s assumption you didn’t watch the races. Even when you came to them, if there was a camera, you’d flash a smile, otherwise there was no other reason to be there. You were at the podiums because you had to be, not because you wanted to be. 

You snorted, looking at him incredulously. “Of course, I watch them. Why wouldn’t I? You’re freaking racing! I’m always so proud of you, no matter where or how you finish. You don’t see me next your mum and dad, cheering you on at the end of the race?” 

Of course he did. You were the first person he would look for at a race. And if you weren’t there, he’d look at the camera in hopes you were watching. And all this time... you had been.  

Lando’s mouth dried. “I just thought...” 

You looked at his face and you could read his mind. “You thought it was fake.” 

He blinked, regret washing over his face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it,” he apologised.  

You took a spoonful of your mango gelato and eyeing his mournful expression. “It’s okay. If there’s one thing you should know, my proudness and happiness for you isn’t fake. Even if this whole thing is.” 

And there it was again. The bitter reminder that this entire relationship was fake. That perhaps the only real thing in your relationship was how you met.  

But this was real. 

This – the track, the gelato, the conversation – this was real.  

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, moving his eyes to the rest of the track as he ate large soon of his melon gelato. He exhaled slowly, trying to remember where he was once again. “Okay... pop quiz! Who was Variante Ascari named after?” 

You cleared your throat, pulling on a thoughtful expression. “Um Al.. Alberto Ascari? The Italian driver, right?” 

“Thank God someone’s been paying attention,” he joked as you neared the named turn.  

You rolled your eyes. “I should thank Fewtrell for that one. Remember that stream he made us join?” 

“Yeah,” Lando laughed softly, all the memories hitting him at once. It was really sweet of Max actually. It was a time when some ‘fans’ were being particularly awful to you. Saying you were using Lando for fame because you barely knew anything about the sport.  

Max then created a poorly made quiz about Formula 1 and got you and Lando to join. Max and Lando pretended not to know much so you were all in the same boat. And any time the right answer was mention, Lando would occasionally squeeze your leg to give you a clue. The stream was flooded with some of the kindest comments, telling you to ignore everyone else and just focus on your health and your relationship with Lando.  

It was one of the moments where you realised how good of a friend Max was. Lando was lucky to have someone who cared for him that much.  

Lando looked down at his cup and let out a dramatic sigh. 

You didn’t even need to bat an eye towards. “I told you I'm not sharing,” you reminded, quickening your pace.  

It didn’t take long for him to catch up. “Please, please. I can see you have like two spoons of mango and lemon. Come on. Sharing is caring.” 

“No–Lando! Stop following me!”  

All of a sudden, you and Lando were running again. But this time, you weren’t worried about some paparazzi or the destination. It was just you and Lando.  

“No offense, but you are not outrunning me,” Lando called out from behind you, running with what you were pretty sure was a smug grin. 

You huffed, trying to push your legs further but you could feel him hovering. You came to an abrupt halt. “You’re right. I can’t outrun you,” you smiled, turning to him. “But I can out-eat you.” 

Lando’s grin dropped as you combined the two flavours of gelato and plopped them in your mouth. He stood there, dumbfounded while you happily ate the rest.  

You replicated his smug grin from earlier and poked your tongue out. “All finished. Sorry,” you shrugged with no sound of an apology hidden in your voice.  

Lando swallowed hard, eyes fixated on your mouth. A step closer to you, his body was pressed on yours. His hand travelled up your neck, the other hand resting on your waist to pull you closer.  

You inhaled slowly, hairs on your body standing straight. You tried meeting his eyes but all you could see was him focus on your lips. Instinctively, your hand fell to his arm around your waist, fastening yourself to him.  

“I... I think I can still taste it,” he said, voice hoarse and dry. He wasn’t sure if he could even recognise himself. 

“Lando... I–we're not on the clock,” you whispered, unwilling to untangle yourself from his grasp.  

“I don’t care.” 

In the blink of an eye, Lando’s lips were smashed against yours and fuck, his lips were soft and pillowy as usual. Your stomach churned upon feeling Lando pushing you closer to him, if that were possible. His fingers were cold against your skin, creeping under the hem of your shirt to rub tingling circles onto your skin.  

A breathy gasp fell from your lips while goosebumps littered your skin. Lando took advantage of this, groaning against your lips as he darted his tongue to explore your mouth. He could feel himself press into you, rubbing his hard-on against you.  

You think now would be an appropriate time to self-implode. You had all the signs. Burning skin, dizziness, and the lost ability to breathe. 

Lando almost buckled under your touch as your fingers scoured his taut torso, lingering dangerously close to his v-line. 

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, pulling away to rest his forehead on yours. His hands had found themselves holding yours, preventing you from undoing him any further. His chest heaved, rising up and down while he stared at your swollen lips and moved his eyes to meet yours.  

“I want this to be real,” he pleaded, moving your hand to his face. “Please.” 

“Lando,” you started but he didn’t want to hear it.  

He shook his head. “I think I’m falling in love with you. I think I have been since we first met,” he sighed out, collecting himself. “I don’t want to do this when it’s fake. I want to be with you because what I feel is real. Because you drive me crazy and I can’t imagine a future without you.” 

You blinked, feeling his hand trail over yours as you caressed his face. Your heart raced loudly in your ears. How were you supposed to respond to that? “I...” 

“Please say something. Anything,” he begged, blue eyes heavily staring down at you. 

“As long as you promise to walk with me on every track. Oh, and get me gelato.” 

Lando let out the biggest sigh of relief, almost collapsing against your hand. His head dipped down, pressing his lips against you once again, taking you into a long kiss. He sighed, pulling away.  

His arms fell around your waist as he grinned at you. “I promise.” 

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 

[blues824]

Bonjour! Comment allez-vous aujourd'hui? May I request headcanons of Leona and Ruggie with a female bobcat s/o?

Uhhh… uhhhh… hola.

Disclaimer: Female reader.

Leona Kingscholar

It was a school crossover event… one that he was not particularly happy about. Sure, he respected women, and he was borderline terrified of them, but having a girl around would make some members of his dormitory a bit more rowdier than usual. Besides, he would have to attend the mirror ceremony.

However, it was an obligation that he would come to be grateful for, because the moment you stepped through, his senses went quiet. Everything went quiet, save for his increased heartrate. You looked so… gorgeous and badass. But you were quite friendly, actually, and rather quiet.

You were put into Savanaclaw for the time being, and Leona surprised everyone by volunteering to host you. As you got set up in his room, you both got to talking… and there was definitely a clear, mutual interest between the two of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating, which further surprised everyone.

Often, you both could be found cuddling in his room, either doom-scrolling through Magicam or just sleeping… or something else, if you know what I mean. Anyway, Leona also loved to spoil you, often just giving you his card to spend it on whatever you found online. You didn’t abuse his money, though, since you wanted to meet his family first so that they wouldn’t think you’re a gold-digger.

Speaking of, you absolutely loved Cheka, and the young lion cub loved you and called you his ‘Auntie’. Leona and you laid in his bed as Cheka laid between the both of you as he played a game you installed for him on your phone… and your boyfriend felt his heart pounding as you instructed the little one how to play. His instincts were telling him that he wanted a baby with you right here and now… but that’s for another day and a different blog.

Ruggie Bucchi

Now… he is also intimidated by women, which is probably why he went to this all-boys college. However, when he heard that there was a school crossover happening, he was very intrigued. After all, new victims to steal from. He went with Leona to see who was selected to stay at NRC… but was completely blown away.

You were standing there… as radiant as ever. The hyena could feel his heart pounding against his chest as you met his gaze and smiled. He felt like Mickey Mouse when Minnie pressed a kiss to his cheek. He felt like Thumper when his lovely lady, Ms. Bunny. 

From that point on, his attention focused on you. You needed any help on assignments? Done. You needed help with a creep not being nice to you? Well, that’s what his Unique Magic was for! You wanted to go on a date? Sure, he just needs… wait, what?! Yeah, when he asked you on a date, he was very surprised to see you nodding. You knew he wasn’t from the best of backgrounds, right?

However, he’d be damned if he let the opportunity just pass him by. He picked up more shifts from the jobs he works, and he was able to take you to the Mostro Lounge and pay for the entire bill. His grandmother always taught him not to be a scrub… and that being broke and being a scrub were two different things.

While he wishes he could spoil you more, you assured him time and time again that you just loved spending time with him, and that money was no big deal to you. Instead, you often spoiled him since you saw him working hard a lot. Many donuts and many head scritches from you were enough to make Ruggie think he was the King of the World.

[marscantread7]

Don't feel like doing that fancy shit w/ the pictures and borders and colors, so js headcanons I have for Sy and Xav and YOU! The reader, not mc. So basically Xavier and Sylus x regular, avg citizen reader. Ig for info. Ur a college student working some normal job js to pay off ur tuition. Like a barista or sumn. Not doing fast food, bc I'm currently a drive-thru worker at a fast food place and I cannot put my self insert character through that😭💔

Sorry abt the other LIs😭💔 I'm tryna get rid of my drafts so I'm js gonna do my two favorites for rn💀💀💀 I'll come back to this concept w/ the other three at a later date

Xavier

- he's suupppeeerrr overprotective of u. Bc like, ur not an evolver at all, and u have no sense of urgency, so like anytime there's fluctuations in the area, or even a wanderer appearance, he's teleporting u far, far away

- He loves helping u study for exams >_< and like, for ur online classes, esp if it's a gen ed class that isn't important to ur major, he will do ur assignments for u and even take tests and quizzes

- "Brings me back to the good ol days🙂‍↕️"

- He will have u bring home recipes for the new coffee ur shop has for a limited time so he can practice making it. He really loves (to try) cooking for u ans even if his croissants come out a little burnt, u enjoy it either way.

- u actually live in a dorm bc unfortunately u can't afford an apartment😓💔 Xavier always gets nervous when he's there bc "what if ur roommate says smth?" And ur js like, "She's always bringing smb new over. I promise u, she will not gaf abt me bringing the same boy over everyday."

- he will always make sure to visit the coffee shop everyday to get breakfast or lunch, and even drop off a treat for u.

- "Saw this fresh banana bread and brought u a few slices"

- keeps u in the dark abt everything involving protocores and wanderers bc bless ur soul! Ur too curious for ur own good and would definitely try to do ur own exploring

- he's caught u one too many times looking up the N109 Zone and has scolded u for it.

- oh yeah! And nothing against u, but he refuses to tell u that he's Lumiere bc of how curious u r. And crazy. U would definitely try to hunt him down to get exclusive pictures for ur Lumiere blog💀💀💀

- "Omg Xav!!! Look at this new Lumiere post? He's so cool!"

- *Xavier trying to keep his cool* Yeah. I bet he is😅😅😅

Sylus

- ur more chronically online than he originally thought when he first met u

- "What would u do if when he okay, so u said yes would go?" "Darling, what the FUCK r u talking abt rn?"

- he's trying so hard to convince u that u don't need to work and he can js pay off school for u

- "Crow man. Listen. I get ur super, mega rich, but u might not always be here to support me. I also feel like less of a burden on u. At least w/ my own money I have that security and assurance that I can still support myself if things don't work out between us, or if smth happens to u." "Kitten, I get that, but for the time being, I'm truly not going anywhere. Why don't u js let me pay for everything and u js put all ur money in a savings. I truly don't mind letting u use all my money, I have more than enough to spare."

- gave u one of his apartments to live in so ur not in those janky ass dorms.

- He refuses to let u step foot inside the N109 zone

- "Ur lucky ur even alive rn. If I hadn't caught u snooping around all those months ago-" "Ugh! Live a little? Aren't u all abt living life ln edge?"

- has to hide his motorcycle from u bc for some reason u know how to hotwire different vehicles????

- Mephisto always snitches on u when ur up to no good

- Srsly, bless ur heart. Ur such a curious soul, and Sylus HATES it. He's genuinely surprised on how u have made it this far in life bc the amount of dangerous situations he finds u in

- "So u knew the energy fluctuations in this area were high and u still decided to go???" "I've always wanted to see a Wanderer in person" "😐"

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

Haha😭😭 js Starcrow w/ a regular ass reader who has no sense of danger LMFAOOO. Kinda half assed the end of them bc I'm js trying to clear out my drafts rn while I have a burst of writing energy rn

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟓 |

a/n: okok im sorry this series is lowkey super slow i promise it gets better without compromising on the soulmate stuff aight <3

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“Should I grapes?” 

Your dad blinks. “I beg your pardon?” Squinting at the bunch of grapes in your hand, your foggy mind tries to comprehend what you are trying to ask. Eventually, you get there, the lost words finding their way back to you.

“Should I eat grapes?”

“If you want, just be sure not to be late for school.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. He holds it out, offering some to you. Shaking your head dismissively, you tiptoe and grab the container of ground coffee, placing it down on the counter. “Order up,” He jokes, watching you prep the coffee for the espresso machine.

You’d gotten it as a gift on your nineteenth birthday, having picked it out yourself online before heading down to the store with your dad to buy it. It’s your baby, your pride and joy, and you’d use it to its fullest potential each time. 

There’s even a dedicated rack of syrups and other things you’d purchased online, but you always made an iced latte in the mornings. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have the strength to get through the day. 

“I’ve got my first session today with Master Wu, so I’ll probably be back late.” You inform him, sitting down at the table after making yourself a vanilla latte. Emily's already made a plate of French toast that he’s munching on, having saved two slices for you.

You eat it regardless, choosing not to acknowledge this fact. A glance at the clock tells you that you’ve got plenty of time to finish up and make your way over to the university. You mentally tick off the checklist in your head, assured that you’ve completed most of, if not all, your work and assignments. 

Although, that wouldn’t stay true for very long. The professor in your third lesson would probably give you yet another essay. At least you get off school early, which means that you’d have plenty of time before your lessons with Master Wu would start. 

“Have you made any new friends yet?” 

The remains of toast in your hands halt halfway to your mouth, eyes flitting from it to your dad’s inquisitive gaze. Slowly, you bring it to your mouth and bite off a piece, averting your gaze and chewing slowly.

He sets down his phone, the morning news displayed on the bright screen. Clearing his throat, he takes another swig of coffee before massaging the area between his eyes. “Did you get into a fight? At least tell me you won.”

“I did not get into a fight,” you say with mild outrage, offended he’d even consider the option. “And for your information, I have made two new friends.” you point the crust of the french toast at him with a frown. 

He leans back in his chair with a raised brow. “What are their names?”

Crap.

“For your information, they prefer to not have their names disclosed. Confidentiality reasons.” To be fair, you aren’t exactly lying, per se. It’s somewhat true. The ninja are technically your new friends now, right? And you can’t just reveal their names, it’d destroy the whole point of a secret identity.

You nod absentmindedly, your thoughts making perfect logical sense in your head. The coffee is almost gone from your cup, and you peek at the espresso machine that’s practically calling your name. Surely there’s time for another cup, right?

“Sometimes I wonder if I dropped you on the head as a baby.” He mumbles with a tilt of his head, though the corners of his mouth hint at an amused smile. “Even if I did, I’m pretty sure I’d have taken you to the doctor’s. I think.” 

Casting him an odd look, you shrug and quickly do the dishes. Realising there isn’t enough time to make another cup of coffee, you decide to head out to your first few classes of the day. 

“Be back by 8!” You call out at the doorway, slipping a finger into the back of your sneakers to help shove them over your heel. The tote bag almost hits you in the face as you lean down, narrowly avoiding it and swinging open the door.

Warm sunlight greets your skin, happiness rushing through your veins as you pop in your earbuds and make your way to the university. Each step has a slight spring to it, and the colours all around are surprisingly more vibrant than usual. Delicious scents warm the air as you pass by Chinatown, mentally marking it down to visit another day.

With your entire being brimming with joy, there’s surely nothing that can go wrong, right?

— — — — — 

Wrong. 

This is all very wrong. 

“And I was telling her all about how the professor is a total quack! Right?” Your body tilts to the side as someone shoves it teasingly, almost falling off the chair then and there. Mustering all the energy you have left, you lift your head and take a deep breath, plastering on the brightest smile you can muster. 

Abby sits next to you, the table crowded with students. “Anyway, did you know she’s taking lessons from Master Wu??” The entire table gasps in shock, you included (sarcastically, of course. But it went unnoticed, unfortunately). 

She gives you an odd look, tossing your response aside in favour of talking excitedly about how one time one of the ninjas saved her from a falling building or something of the like - you weren’t paying attention. 

Instead, you’re busy planning for a way to escape from the group. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place. One moment, you got paired up for an assignment with Abby, and the next, you’re sitting down in one of the food courts around campus after she found out you had lessons with Master Wu after school.

In hindsight, it was stupid of you to reveal that. Back home, no one cared if you had connections to a celebrity, unless they actually showed up. You’d subconsciously let down your guard, and now everyone’s bombarding you with questions about the ninja.

“So, is it true that Kai uses hairspray and not gel?”

“Does Zane eat?”

“Can you help me get Nya’s shirt??”

That was probably the final straw. You clear your throat and instantly everyone quiets down, waiting with bated breath for your reply. Pausing for a moment, you smile as you part your lips to speak.

“I’m gonna be late for class.” 

Taking advantage of the silence that follows while they process your short reply, you grab your bag and run, leaving them behind. It’s not long before chagrined voices start to complain, feeling only slightly guilty for Abby who’s left behind to salvage the social situation.

That wouldn’t be hard for her though, you suspect. She seems to be a social butterfly, which works out great, but also horrible, considering that she pretty much dragged you there. Wanting to make friends is a goal you want to cross off, but not this way.

The rest of the morning passes by fast, but your mental stamina starts to drain more and more with each passing hour. Finally, the professor releases you for the day, with the bright and cheery smile she gets from seeing her students suffer, like all professors do.

The classroom fills with chatter as the students all leave until you’re the only one left trying to stuff the laptop into your tote bag. A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you flinch, turning in surprise to see a brunette standing behind you.

She fiddles with something in her hands, eyes darting everywhere but at you. “Can I help you?” The moment you speak, she flinches a little, taking a visible breath before pressing her lips together determinedly.

“Hi, I’m Holly. You left this behind in the food court earlier…I was sitting at another table.”

“Oh, thanks,” you say with mild surprise, taking the student pass she holds out with a grateful smile. “I wouldn’t be able to get in the classrooms tomorrow if not for you,” you joke, waving it at her with a wink.

She seems to ease up, shoulders visibly relaxing as she laughs. “How’d you get into the classroom today then?” You shrug.

“I was behind someone else who was headed in the same direction and got too lazy to pull out the card, so I asked them to open it for me. Luckily, he was in the same class.”

“That’s so fair,” She replies with a wise nod. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. I’m in this class too. It’d be great if you could consider me as a project partner sometime!” 

Humming, you thoughtfully mull the idea over before nodding. “Sounds good to me. I gotta head off now though. I’ll see you around Holly.”

“See you!” She waves you off as you rush out the door, an odd warmth in your chest. Thinking back to your interaction with her makes you smile. She hadn’t asked about Master Wu or the ninja…

Maybe she might just be your first friend.

— — — — — 

The climb up the steep steps of the mountain is the usual, though this time you’re supercharged by the thought of having potentially met your very first friend in school. Even your loud knock on the monastery doors sounds cheery.

Zane opens the door, surprise written on his face at your bright smile, though maybe your flushed cheeks and beads of sweat rolling down your face don’t help convey it. “Hey there buddy,” you greet.

“Hello there friend! You arrived early today. Do you need a shower?”

You shake your head, walking inside and instantly being greeted by the regulated cooling system that keeps everything at the ideal temperature they decided. “I’ll just sweat it all out. Hey, is Cole around? I gotta return something to him.” 

“He’ll be back soon from patrol. In the meantime, why don’t you come and grab a drink?” Zane offers, leading the way at your eager nod. The moment you walk to the doorway leading inside, Zane pauses, turning to stare at you.

“...Can I help you?” 

He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if contemplating what to say. “I do not mean to offend you, but I strongly advise taking a shower. It is not that you smell bad, but you will need it, based on my personal experience.”

Crossing your arms, you raise a brow at him. "Are you saying I smell like a gym sock?"

He hesitates. "...No. I'm just saying that most people who climb up the mountain end up smelling like a gym sock and usually shower afterwards."

Flinching slightly, you press your lips together into a thin line. "Touché, ninja. Touché."

You take the lead, your body vaguely remembering where the bathroom is from your last visit. The shower is a separate room inside the bathroom, ensuring the utmost privacy for whoever uses it. 

“Here, you can change into these after.” Zane hands a set of clothes toward you from a drawer. Accepting them gladly, you head to the bathroom and lock the door. Taking a quick shower, your body welcomes the lukewarm water that flows down your skin, dripping off your fingertips. 

Upon changing into the loose black shirt and training pants, you secure the latter by pulling the strings and tying them tightly so they won’t fall. Zane nods in approval once you step out more refreshed than before, tossing the towel in the laundry basket off to the side. 

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to wash and return these.” Lifting your arms and swinging them back and forth a little creates a slight gust of wind that cools down your armpits wonderfully. That, combined with the sunny weather outside, is a picturesque scene for training. 

He shakes his head with a smile. “There is no need. Feel free to keep them. We have too many clothes here, and it’s better to give them freely.” 

Slightly odd response, but who are you to question their recycling decisions? Choosing to take it as is, you grin and continue the walk to the dojo. Zane waves goodbye to you, sliding the door shut. 

Master Wu sits in the middle of the room with a cup of tea, sipping away in peace and calm. Approaching him, you automatically bow a full ninety degrees. The practice was drilled into you until it was almost instinct, especially if you were indirectly rude. Sometimes, you can still feel the screaming pain of your thighs crying out for mercy, forced to remain in a training position as punishment.

Rising from the bow, you hesitate slightly, waiting for Master Wu to acknowledge your presence. His eyes remain closed, his breathing deep and steady, embodying the very essence of tranquillity. After what feels like an eternity, he opens his eyes and meets your gaze with a serene smile.

“Sit,” he says softly, gesturing to the mat across from him. You comply, folding your legs underneath you and trying to mirror his calm.

“You have come far in your journey,” Master Wu begins, setting down his cup. “But there is always more to learn. You are skilled with the blade, but true mastery requires understanding beyond the sword.”

He rises gracefully. “Today, we will focus on adaptability,” Master Wu explains, “Kendo teaches you to be direct and powerful, but sometimes, you must flow like water.” He walks over to the empty wall and presses a hidden button.

A section of the wall moves, smoothly rotating to reveal a wall or neatly displayed weapons on the other side. He grabs two wooden swords, throwing one at you. Your hands reach out to grab it as you stand, shifting into your stance.

“Now, we shall spar.”

What?

Before you can blink, a sharp pain blooms on the side of your torso. Stumbling back a few steps, you gulp in a mouthful of air as you process what’s just happened. Master Wu is only a few steps away from you, the sword in his hand no longer there for a light demonstration. 

You ready yourself, thankful he’s given you a few moments to breathe. The pain still throbs, ignoring it to focus on him. The blade stills in your vision, fingers tightly gripping the handle. It’s barely another second before you swing the blade, charging toward his nonchalant figure.

With a swift, fluid motion, Master Wu deflects your strike effortlessly, redirecting your momentum and causing you to stumble past him. His movements are smooth and unhurried, a stark contrast to your forceful approach.

"Adapt," he advises calmly, "Use your opponent's energy against them."

You turn quickly, regaining your balance and taking a deep breath. This time, you focus on the flow of his movements, watching for an opening. He remains relaxed, his stance fluid and ready. You feint to the right, then pivot to the left, aiming a strike at his side.

He counters with ease, the wooden swords clacking together sharply. Instead of resisting, you let the force of his parry guide your movements, spinning around and striking from a different angle. His eyes light up with approval as he blocks again, your movements starting to resemble a dance more than a duel.

"Good," he says, his voice steady. "Feel the flow. Do not fight it."

You continue sparring, each strike and block becoming more instinctive. He still lands more than his fair share of hits, while your wooden blade barely brushes against the fabric of his robes. Gritting your teeth at the sharp blow dealt to your leg, you tense every muscle in your body and continue to spar.

The sounds of your wooden blades clashing fill the air, your heavy breathing included. The fluidity and grace in his motions piss you off, a stark contrast to the rigid discipline of Kendo. 

Why won’t he let me hithimgodfuckingdamnit-

A slight bonk on the side of your head snaps you out of your thoughts, skidding back and breathing heavily as you process it. “...Did you just hit my head?”  

Master Wu blinks. “Yes.” 

Then he strikes again, this time a slightly gentler hit on your calf, compared to the previous ones. You’re not sure whether to be thankful or frustrated - he’d just shown you how severely lacking you are, after all. 

“We shall take a break,” he announces. It’s only then when you lower your sword that you notice the abundance of sweat dripping down your face, your back completely soaked. You collapse to the ground, legs sprawled out as you finally get the chance to catch your breath.

As you continue to practically gulp in mouthfuls of air, you turn to look at Master Wu who’s sitting down with another cup of tea. “I have a question.” He hums curiously, raising a brow. “Why’re you teaching me this and not Kendo?” 

Hell yeah, drop that old man wisdom on me.

“The strikes and stances of kendo are ingrained in your muscles,” He explains, “but it does not mean you are invincible. Kendo has its strengths, but it also has its weaknesses. By learning to be fluid with your movements, you will become a better fighter than before.”

He tilts the teapot, pouring tea into a separate cup which he then holds out to you. Summoning all the strength in your body to crawl (yes, crawl. It’s embarrassing, but you’re truly too tired to care) to the small table, you pull yourself up and sit opposite him. 

Without thinking twice, you tilt the cup back and down it in a single gulp, exhaling happily as it goes down your throat and warms your body.

Opening your eyes, you spot Master Wu’s bemused gaze, freezing momentarily before offering him the empty cup with a sheepish smile.

He fills it up at your silent request, letting it pass. “Your body is that of a cup. It can only hold so much, but once you break past your limits, you can expand its capacity.”

You nod slowly, the warmth of the tea seeping into your bones, easing the aches from your recent sparring. "So, I need to break my limbs?" That’s probably not what he's trying to get at, from the way his eyes widen at your response.

“Not at all,” he chuckles, “challenge yourself. Learn as much as you can. Then, make it your own. That is why I am teaching you. Not just because of your stepmother, and not just in the name of self-defence. You enjoy it, don’t you?”

Pursing your lips, you choose to sip quietly. He’d seen through you as easily as glass. You wouldn’t easily admit it to anyone, but you missed the intense training and the time spent sparring with your previous master. 

The blood rushing through your veins and the sweat dripping down your brow every time gave you a rush of adrenaline you’d grown addicted to.

Now, it’s hard to refrain from. That’s not to say you’d do it every day of the week of course, but at its core, you found it fun.

“Ah, Cole.” He greets, raising his cup. You tense, turning back to see the Earth Ninja all dressed up in his gi. He takes off the hood, mirroring the baffled expression on your face. “Just in time.”

Cole approaches the both of you, bowing to Master Wu and sitting beside you. He looks over, eyes filled with surprise at your presence. Lifting your cup, you offer it to him in a show of good relations. “Tea?”

He shakes his head in refusal. Shrugging, you retract your offer and sip away.

Only to choke when you see him take out a cup of his own. Master Wu seems unfazed, pouring the tea into his cup as if it were the norm to carry it around. “Dude, do you keep that on you?” 

He raises a brow at the pure amusement in your voice. “You got a problem with that?” 

“No, not at all.” You reply, pressing your lips together to hide the growing smile on your face. “I’m sure you’ve good reason to do so. Like urgent tea sessions or when the kitchen doesn’t have any more vessels for beverages.” You add with a solemn nod.

First Papa’s, now this? What next, an emergency blanket?

“Okay, snob. I bet you don’t have your own cup, anyway.” He retorts with a huff, rolling his eyes.

“For your information, I happen to have the best mug in the world. It was a birthday gift, not sure if you’ve ever had one though.” 

“A mug? As a birthday gift? What are you, lame?” He snorts, shaking his head in amusement.

“Where the hell do you keep it anyway? Won’t it get crushed because of all the fighting and stuff?” You ask, choosing to change the topic. He goes along with it (thank god), taking a sip before explaining that he puts it in a pouch that’s designed to turn stiff when pressure is placed on it.

Master Wu interrupts your discussion by clearing his throat and peeking an eye open. Cole Instantly straightens his back, delivering his report on the day’s patrol. “Anyway, I’ll get going now.” He starts to get up, only to pause when Master Wu puts forth a suggestion.

“Why don’t you stay and have a spar with her?”

“Me? Spar with her?” He looks you up and down, taking in your flushed cheeks and sweat-ridden body. “Won’t she collapse?”

Your lips part in a silent gasp, offended by his tone. “Excuse me,” you haul yourself off the floor with a grunt, taking a step forward and jabbing a finger into his chest. “I’ll have you know that I can beat your ass any day.”

He smirks, pushing aside your arm and taking a step forward, leaving barely any space between your bodies. “I’d like to see you try.” Your eyes narrow into a glare, infuriated by the smugness in his eyes. 

Another cough interrupts you both, breaking your gaze and turning to see Master Wu’s raised brows as he stares at the both of you. You hastily take a step back, pushing him away in the process. 

He lifts a hand and brushes off the imaginary dust left by your finger. You glare at him, grabbing the sword that lies at Master Wu’s side. You toss it to him, frowning when he catches it with ease without being caught off guard by the sudden toss.

Walking over to an empty spot in the dojo, you breathe in slowly, sucking in the cool air through your teeth. “Remember, true strength lies not just in power, but in the ability to adapt and flow,” Master Wu advises from the side, using his cane as a division between you both.

Your form is almost perfect, every muscle tense as you grip the handle of your sword with determination. You would not let this bastard get the upper hand on you. Even if he is a ninja, he can’t always be on his toes the whole time.

“Begin.” 

In the split moment that Master Wu’s command rings through the air, you lift the sword and strike. Cole manages to barely dodge it, the gust of wind generated by the powerful blow moving a few strands of his hair across his face.

He does a backflip, landing perfectly on his feet and holding the sword out in defence. He chuckles wryly. “Not bad for a musketeer.” Your cheeks warm at the reference, recalling the night he’d found you in that hole not too long ago caused by the very thief who snuck into the fundraiser. 

“Very funny, Earth Ninja. Am I supposed to applaud?” You ask sarcastically, lunging forward and striking once more. He parries easily, only for you to use the momentum to aim a kick at the back of his legs.

He stumbles to the ground, landing on his knees before bolting back up again with a glint in his eyes. “Fair point. I guess we’ll be doing this seriously after all. Don’t chicken out.” 

“Are you sure you should be saying that?” You fake a sympathetic pout, tilting your head in pity. “Don’t you need ointment for those bruises first?”

The ghost of an amused smile flickers across his face, holding his sword up and moving toward you once more. The blades clash with a resounding knock, the vibrations travelling through the wood and into your hands. They tremble slightly, neither of you willing to give way to the other. 

“Wanna make a bet?” He suggests through gritted teeth, though you can tell he probably isn’t using his full strength. You’d heard about his supposed ‘super-strength’ through Melody’s rambles, and you’d rather die than admit that you’re grateful he isn’t using it.

Contemplating it through heavy breaths and aching muscles, you decide to accept. Not readily though, of course. “What’re the stakes?” You ask, before using his weight against him and side-stepping out of the way to nail a punch at his side.

He dodges it easily, leaving you to groan in frustration before putting some distance between you both. Barely a second later, your swords clash again, this time with an emotion resembling that of humour behind either of your intentions. 

“Loser buys dinner.” 

Deeming it an acceptable bet with a nod, your mind races with ways that you could potentially win. Drop the sword and surprise him with a punch? Try to kick his feet? Deal more strikes, but swifter and faster than before?

Unfortunately, fate is unkind to you as always. Before you can react fast enough, he twists his body sideways, bending low and using the blunt of the blade to deal a sharp hit to your abdomen. 

It knocks the wind out of you. You’re barely able to defend yourself before he sweeps his leg, knocking yours from under you and making you land on your back. Your body erupts with coughs as you try to catch your breath, your chest heaving.

“Looks like I’ve won.” He shrugs, nonchalant words accompanied by the smug grin on his face you wish you could wipe off.

With the tip of the blade pointed at your throat, you raise your hands in surrender, rolling your eyes in the process. “Motherfucker,” you mumble under your breath, accepting the hand he holds out to you regardless. 

He helps you up, ignoring the way you purposely put more weight behind your grip in an attempt to drag him to the ground. Giving up, you stand of your own accord, hissing in pain at the way your chest stings from that last blow dealt.

“Well done, both of you. Your lesson is now over. I will see you again next week. Perhaps Cole too, if he wishes to join” Master Wu states with a knowing smile, exiting through another door and leaving the both of you behind.

You share a look, staring at the door he’s just left through. 

“You don’t think…” 

“Nah,” you shake your head with a nervous laugh. “There’s no way he knows. You didn’t tell him, right?”

“No way,” Cole denies instantly, shaking his head aggressively.

“Okay, damn. Don’t gotta be so strung up about it…” You grumble, crossing your arms. A twinge of hurt blooms in the pit of your stomach, but you choose to push it away, focusing on putting the weapons back onto the wall. Fumbling around for the hidden switch, you’re interrupted by a familiar hand pressing its exact spot, the wall rotating back to hide them once more.

He turns back to you with an expectant look. Tensing, you can already hear the money in your bank account beginning to fly away. Releasing a breath, you pinch the space between your brows. “Where to?” You ask in defeat.

“I’ll tell you that after you shower.” Looking up to see Cole’s wrinkled nose, you spot him subtly fanning the air. “You’re stinkin’ up the place right now.”

That’s it. I’m gonna punch him, ninja or not.

— — — — — 

Taglist: @candyquokka @mattchka @em-100 @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight

[krissiefox]

image source

tumblr is the gay website and it has lots of nice gay blogs! You can view the list under the read more link below.

https://www.tumblr.com/transportation-signalboost Fundraiser blog helping trans people escape from dangerous living situations.

https://plannedparenthood.tumblr.com/ Planned Parenthood official blog.

https://upandoutcomic.tumblr.com/ Trans-positive web comic and art.

https://www.tumblr.com/lesbiancoupleoftheday Small blog about lesbian cartoon couples.

https://unnecessarilygenderedproducts.tumblr.com/ Blog poking fun at absurdly sexist products and marketing.

https://humanrightscampaign.tumblr.com/ Human Rights Campaign Blog.

https://www.tumblr.com/transgenderproblems Comics about shit trans people have to put up with.

https://www.tumblr.com/pridesite The official tumblr page of PRIDE.com

https://genderequalityallies.tumblr.com/ A student group dedicated to tackling gender issues

https://assigned-at-birth-comic.tumblr.com/ Webcomic about trans issues.

https://www.tumblr.com/mattymatt Blog of Youtuber Matt Baume!

https://outyouth.tumblr.com/ A Texas group for LGBTQ youth.

https://www.tumblr.com/ur-fav-is-at-the-pride-parade Cute blog that puts various characters in a pride parade.

https://gaywebcorenostalgia.tumblr.com/ Old queer web sites.

https://www.tumblr.com/transgender-history A blog documenting and posting transgender history

https://www.tumblr.com/gay-crossing-animals\ LGBTQ+ Animal Crossing images.

https://www.tumblr.com/fucknovideogames A blog raising awareness about bigoted people in the gaming industry/community.

https://gaygamer.tumblr.com/ A gay perspective on video games.

https://lgbt.co/ LGBT news & photos.

https://www.tumblr.com/georgetakei George & Brad Takei's blog

https://glsen.tumblr.com/ GLSEN strives to assure that each member of every school community is valued and respected regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity/expression.

https://gaywrites.org/ LGBTQ news, media, culture & more.

https://intersex-support.tumblr.com/ Support blog for intersex people.

https://zebracoalition.tumblr.com/ Providing support, services, programs, groups & workshops for LGBT youth in Central Florida.

https://love-rainbows.tumblr.com/ Colorful Pride art!

https://tdorunite.tumblr.com/ Transgender Day of Remembrance blog

https://tdor-rally-new-haven-blog.tumblr.com/ Another Transgender Day of Remembrance blog

https://lgbt-history-archive.tumblr.com/ Blog about LGBT history.

https://thetrevorproject.tumblr.com/ Official blog of The Trevor Project.

https://theadvocatemag.tumblr.com/ LGBT news.

https://quixol.net/ LGBT+ Minecraft server. No longer actively maintained, but still online as of the last time I checked on 10/20/2024.

https://prismparty.tumblr.com/ Another LGBT+ Minecraft server! Thankfully, this one seems to be still be maintained and more active as well (as of my last check on 10/20/2024)

https://prideknights.tumblr.com/ Knights who fight for Pride!

https://trevorprojectawareness-blog.tumblr.com/ Blog about the Trevor Project.

https://care-for-trevor.tumblr.com/ Another Trevor Project blog.

https://queergraffiti.tumblr.com/ LGBTQ graffiti.

https://www.tumblr.com/poniesaregaay Gay ponies!

https://outofficial.tumblr.com/ Official blog of Out Magazine.

https://www.tumblr.com/assignedmale LGBTQ webcomic with a focus on trans issues

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Introductions)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “Mindy!” Tara screeched when the other girl ran off to grab the taser. When she came back, she at least looked apologetic as she handed Sam the taser. “Sam,” Tara said again.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.6k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

You made your way through the streets of New York, your earbuds in as you weaved in and out of the crowds. You had just gotten off the subway and were now walking to Tara’s apartment. It had been a few weeks since the Ghostface attack and you were healed up enough to be ready to officially meet Sam and the others. You had gotten your cast off a few days ago and were now set to wear a brace for a few more weeks.

Tara had barely left your side once you got discharged from the hospital. She went home with you and practically moved in for the last few weeks. The only time she wasn’t with you was when she had class and she had actually gotten out of going to class the first week but then no one would accept her excuses anymore. You hadn’t returned to class yet, you were set to return soon though but until then your professors had been understanding and since most of your assignments were online you were still able to do them and most of your classes had a friend in them who just took notes for you and the ones that didn’t have friends, your professors were kind enough to email you the important information.

Besides going back to the hospital for a checkup on your injuries, this was the first time you had been out of your house, not that you were complaining. You were enjoying the free time, even though you still couldn’t do big movements without being in pain, and you had to sleep sitting up slightly because of your ribs.

Tara had been reluctant to leave your side again today, but it seemed she was more nervous about you coming over, so she left you in the morning to go home and make sure everything went smoothly. You weren’t sure what needed to be prepared, you were just going over for dinner and as far as you knew they were just ordering pizza. Based on hundreds of texts you had been getting though it was clear Tara was panicking over you officially meeting Sam, with some panicking over your wellbeing sprinkled in. She’d send a text assuring you Sam wouldn’t be mean and then another asking to make sure you took your pain meds.

The podcast you were listening to was just finishing up as you made it to the front of the apartment. You stared up at the tall building, you began bouncing your leg, realizing you were about to officially meet Sam. You had been comforting Tara and telling her not to be nervous and now here you were, shaky legs and sweaty hands at the idea of walking up the few steps and opening the door to officially step inside the apartment building. You gave your shoulders a good shake before quickly running up the steps and flinging the door open. You had nothing to be afraid of, you knew that Tara was going to be there and most likely holding your hand the entire time and Anika was also going to be there.

You made your way up all the stairs. You totally understood why Sam wanted an apartment on the top floor, but you were not a fan of stairs. When you finally reached the top floor, you slipped out your earbuds and put them in your pocket. You took a deep breath before raising your hand and giving the door three soft knocks. A few seconds later there was the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the door and what sounded like someone lightly running into the door.

“Behave!” Tara whisper shouted. You couldn’t help but silently chuckle. “No, Mindy!” came again. “Sit!” you continued to laugh as you pulled out your phone, shooting Tara a text saying you could hear everything. “Shit,” came a quiet whisper that told you Tara was the one standing right on the other side of the door.

The door was quickly ripped open and standing before you was Tara, smiling brightly. “Hi!” she said a little to cheerfully.

“Hey,” you said, staring at her as you tried to contain your laughter.

You stood there staring at her as she used her body to block the inside of the apartment. You raised your eyebrows, but she didn’t seem to take the hint that she needed to move for you to enter. “Yo, you gonna let her in or what?” came Chads voice.

“Shut up!” Tara snapped, turning around to glare at Chad. When she turned back to you, she quietly stepped aside, trying to hide her blush.

You quietly giggled as you stepped into the apartment. Before you could take in the entirety of the apartment and even before Tara could close the door you were hit with an abrupt force causing you to stumble back. You let out a groan of pain as you felt arms wrap around your neck.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Anika mumbled into your shoulder.

“Gentle, gentle,” you said, moving your body back slightly.

“Oh my god!” Anika cried, quickly letting go of you. “Did I hurt you? I thought you were healed. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“I’m good,” you assured her. “It just takes a while for ribs to heal, they’re still a bit sensitive.”

“I’m so sorry! Let me make it up to you,” her eyes darted around the room as if she was looking for something to give you. “Oh! I can do our final audio project!”

“No!” you quickly shouted, holding up your hands. “Please, anything but that.” You looked at her with wide eyes. “I have a hundred in that class and would like to keep it. You can put your name on the project and present though.”

Anika’s arms fell as she began to pout. “Fine,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “I still want to make it up to you. Let me buy you a soundtrack!”

You rolled your eyes, letting you a soft sigh. “Fine, we can go to the record store tomorrow.”

“I thought we were hanging out tomorrow,” Tara pouted.

“I figured you were coming with,” you said, turning towards your girlfriend.

“Good,” she smiled and then quickly intertwined her hand with yours.

“You have a record player?” Mindy asked. She was standing across the room with her arms crossed but she seemed genuinely surprised, and her eyes were wide with curiosity.

“Yeah,” you said shyly. “You just get a better sound.”

“That’s cool,” Mindy nodded, uncrossing her arms. “Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure.”

“Yay!” Anika said, clapping her hands. “It can be like a double date!”

Chad gasped in offense, raising his arms as everyone turned to look at him. “You can come too,” Anika said.

“Yeah, be the fifth wheel,” Mindy said. “Might as well get used to it.”

Chad crossed his arms, clenching his jaw as he glared at his sister.

“Oh, Sam!” Anika said, spinning around to face the only person who had yet to speak. “Why don’t you come to? We can make it a bonding experience!”

Sam looked at Anika with a blank face. You were still waking up when Sam had been at the hospital and you had only seen her from a distance so you weren’t sure what her reaction would be, you couldn’t tell if this was her happy face, her angry face, or just her face.

“How about we see how dinner goes first,” Sam said, smiling at Anika before turning back to you and Tara with narrowed eyes.

“Sam,” Tara warned, gripping your hand just a bit tighter.

She slowly walked up to the two of you, the others subtly clearing a path. She stopped in front of you, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. You couldn’t help but gulp, you stared straight back into Sam’s eyes. You were trying to portray strength and confidence, even though you were sure that was most definitely not what was coming across to Sam.

“Mindy,” Sam said calmly. “Hand me the taser on the counter.”

Your eyes widened but you didn’t break your stare from Sam’s, not because you were confident, no, now you were afraid to look away. You would have backed away but there wasn’t anywhere to go with Tara gripping your hand and the wall right behind you.

“Mindy!” Tara screeched when the other girl ran off to grab the taser. When she came back, she at least looked apologetic as she handed Sam the taser. “Sam,” Tara said again.

Sam played with the small taser in her hands. She held the taser in front of your face as she clicked the button, making the apartment fill with the loud crackling sound. You couldn’t help but flinch, squeezing Tara’s hand in the process.

“Here you go,” Sam said, holding out the taser to you with a soft smile.

Everyone in the apartment remained frozen. You slowly let go of Tara’s hand to grab the taser. “Thanks,” you said hesitantly as you looked down at the taser before slipping it into your pocket.

“I assume you know how to use it considering you put up a decent fight against Ghostface,” Sam explained, scratching the back of her neck. “This is just an extra form of protection. It’s also a thank you for protecting my sister.”

“My pleasure,” you said softly, your body instantly relaxing. “Thank you.”

“I’m Sam, Tara’s older sister,” Sam introduced herself, holding out her hand.

“Y/N,” you took Sam’s hand, giving it a good shake. “Tara’s secret girlfriend.” At that everyone let out the breath they had been holding in and lightly chuckled.

“Oh, I expect to hear all about that.” Sam flicked a glare towards her sister “Over pizza, come on.” She nodded and made her way back into the dining room.

As everyone turned to follow her, you let out a relieved breath before looking at Tara. Tara was still staring forward at the now empty space; you gave her hand a light squeeze. Tara looked back at you with a small smile. She returned your hand squeeze before leading you into the dining room. You saw the gang left two chairs next to each other empty for you and Tara. When the two of you took your seats, Tara scooched her chair just a bit closer so even though she couldn’t hold your hand your knees were touching.

“So, I have to ask,” Chad said after a few minutes, a mouth full of pizza. “Where did you learn to fight?”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t call what I did fighting,” you answered, making sure to swallow your food first.

“Come on!” he threw his head back. “You were on the phone with,” he gestured towards Tara. “And you still managed to hear Ghostface and fight him off for as long as you did.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I watch a lot of Criminal Minds?” you played with the crust of your pizza. “And true crime. I guess I just always wonder how those people don’t see someone standing right there behind them or right outside their window and it made me more aware of my surroundings.”

Chad nodded along, taking in everything you were saying as he shoved more pizza into his mouth. “And I’ve seen Tangled,” you added. “I know exactly how good of a weapon a frying pan can be.”

“Do you play baseball?” Mindy asked.

“No,” you said, wrinkling your nose in disgust at the idea of playing sports.

“Why’d you have a bat?”

“In case someone ever broke in,” you said as if it was obvious.

Everyone continued to chat and finish off the pizza. You weren’t sure how many pieces Chad downed; you wouldn’t be surprised if he ate one pizza all by himself. You were no longer questioning why Sam bought two large pizzas, bread sticks, and cheesy bread.

You tapped your phone, looking at the time, you let out a sigh seeing how late it was. “I should head out,” you said. Tara turned to you pouting. “I’d rather not walk home alone to late.” Tara continued to pout. “Weren’t you the one complaining earlier when I said I was taking the subway even though it was daylight?” Tara grumbled something incoherent before crossing her arms.

“You can stay here,” Sam said, making everyone snap their heads in her direction.

“Really?” you asked. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t want you having to walk home alone when it’s this late.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“As long as it’s okay with your parents at least,” Sam added. “I’m surprised your mom let you leave the house alone after what happened.”

“That’s because they’re still out of town,” Tara said.

“Really?” Mindy asked. “They didn’t fly home the second they heard their daughter was attacked?” you could hear the bit of curiosity in her voice but mostly judgement.

Anika was distracted playing with her phone, not even looking up as she said, “That’s because they don’t know.” She let out a small laugh until she realized what she said. She slowly put down her phone and looked at you to see you already glaring at her. You reached over whacking her on the arm.

“They don’t know?” Tara whipped her head towards you with an accusatory glare.

You cleared your throat, opening and closing your mouth a few times as you tried to come up with an excuse. “I didn’t want her to worry,” you finally said.

“How did you keep this from your mom? Why did she think the security alarm was triggered so late?” Tara was gesturing wildly, shaking the table with each movement.

“I told her you fell out of the tree,” you said quietly, refusing to meet Tara’s gaze. “Again.”

Tara gasped. “And she believed you?” you glanced at her, seeing her hold a hand to her heart.

“I mean…” you shrugged. “Can you blame her?”

“It happened once!”

“Twice!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Chad said, waving his arms. “You fell out of a tree?” he asked Tara, trying to contain his laughter.

“I miss judged the distance from the branch to her window,” is all Tara said.

“And that’s how she met my mom,” you added.

Everyone broke out into a laugh after that. “Whatever,” Tara grumbled. “She loves me now.”

You shook your head laughing at her. You reached down, grabbing her hand and bringing it towards your mouth to give her fingers a quick kiss. The gesture made Tara’s cheeks turn red and though she tried to duck her head out of sight from everyone you could see the small smile on her face.

Everyone talked for a bit longer, getting to know each other a bit more. You heard stories about Tara growing up in Woodsboro and what she was like. You heard all about Chad’s football career and how he got the scholarship he did. Sam didn’t say much, she added small bits here and there when the topic had to do with Tara’s childhood but otherwise sat there silently, smiling, and laughing along with everyone else. Eventually it got late though, and the twins and Anika made their way home, denying Sam’s offer to spend the night as well.

“We’ll see you tomorrow for the record store,” Anika said, pulling you into a much more gentle hug than the one she had greeted you with.

“And we we’ll be by for breakfast before,” Chad added, looking at Sam with puppy dog eyes.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said but nodded.

After the others left Tara led you to her room and began getting ready for bed. She was already under the covers as you slipped in right beside her. Tara took the extra pillows on her bed and helped place them so you could lay partially sitting up. Tara had an arm draped around your waist, snuggling as close to you as she could get, she was about to close her eyes when the door to her room creaked open. Tara propped herself up and you turned to see Sam standing in the doorway.

“Keep the door open,” Sam said. She narrowed her eyes, giving Tara a knowing look before walking off towards her room.

“She’s still injured Sam!” Tara said before dropping her head back down onto the mattress, grumbling about how Sam never lets her get away with anything as she snuggled back into your side.

You just smiled, shaking your head at seeing the sisters interact in person. You shifted, wiggling your body down until you were laying as much as you could without causing your ribs to much pain. The bruising was mostly gone but it still hurt to lay on your stomach or either side.

It felt like you had just closed your eyes before they snapped wide open. Your breathing heavy, you could feel your heart racing as you looked around the unfamiliar room until you felt something graze against your leg. You looked down, instantly relaxing at seeing Tara still sound asleep at your side. You closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths, you were at Tara’s apartment, you had spent the night, you were safe.

You rubbed your eyes realizing you couldn’t just go back to sleep. You quietly slipped out of the bed, gently lifting Tara’s arm off of you. You waited a second, watching to make sure Tara didn’t wake up before tiptoeing out of her room and making your way into the family room. You glanced around at the dark apartment, catching sight of a clock, it was three in the morning. You sighed before easing yourself down on the couch.

You were sitting there quietly in the dark staring at the empty wall before you when there was a small click and a light flicked on. You flinched, nearly jumping to your feet as you turned your whole body towards the sound.

“Sorry,” Sam whispered, stepping further into the family room.

“Sorry,” you croaked out, starting to stand up. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re fine,” Sam said softly, raising her hand for you to sit back down. You slowly lowered yourself back down as Sam made her way over, sitting in the chair across from the couch. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “It’s just hard to get comfortable sometimes. Though the pain is mostly gone it’s still there a bit,” you said when you had calmed down enough. “The pain meds they gave me are meant to help me sleep but they kind of do the opposite,” you chuckled but it quickly fell flat.

The two of you sat there in silence for a moment. You stared down at your feet while Sam kept her eyes on you. The only light illuminating the room was the small one Sam flicked on when she entered.

“Nightmares?” Sam asked softly.

You nodded, refusing to lift your head and look at her. “I can usually sleep through the night when Tara’s there,” you whispered. “Most of the time at least.”

“Hey,” Sam said softly, making you finally look up at her, seeing her eyes held the same softness. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You went through something terrible. We’ve all been through it. We definitely get it.” You nodded. “Have you talked to Tara about this at all?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to burden her; she’s got enough to worry about.”

“She loves you. It wouldn’t be a burden to her.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Is it a burden to you when she talks about her problems? Or when she wakes up from a nightmare?”

“Of course not.” Sam raised her eyebrows but didn’t lose her softness. You let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah okay.”

“Talk to her,” she said before standing up. “When you’re ready to of course. You should also call your mom.”

You let out a small chuckle, rolling your eyes but nodded none the less.

“And…” she glanced around the room like she wasn’t used to this type of conversation. “I’m here to if you want to talk. If you’re comfortable of course.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “You’re a great sister, Tara’s lucky to have you.”

Sam cleared her throat, trying to hide her blush, she was just like Tara in that way. “You should try and get some sleep, who knows where Anika will try and drag us after the record store.”

You nodded, pushing yourself back to your feet. You definitely knew how Anika got when she was out shopping and with everyone going you had no idea how long the trip to the record store would actually be. There were times you went out with Anika with the intent to go to one store and you ended up on the other side of the city hours later.

Sam flicked off the light and the two of you made your way back to bed. Sam gave you a small nod before she entered her room, gently closing the door behind her. You pushed Tara’s door open, still seeing her sound asleep. You pushed the door closed, leaving it a few inches open like Sam had requested before quietly slipping back under the covers.

You tried to be as subtle as possible to not disturb Tara. As soon as you were situated again, Tara curled into your side, wrapping her arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around her as best as you could, pulling her closer into your side before closing your eyes and quickly drifting back off to sleep.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @youralphawolf72

[femsecrets]

CHASTITY, SISSIFICATION, AND FEMINIZATION ONLINE TRAINING PROGRAM

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This training will help you on your feminization journey. If you fantasize about being made to dress like a woman, look like a woman, think like a woman, and act like a woman, Have you imagined yourself as one of the beautiful women you see on Tumblr blog post? Do you like the humiliation of being made to wear women’s things and chastity? You’ve come to the right place, sissy. Many of you sissies have gone in search of a mistress dominatrix in the wrong places, some of you have been scammed while some have wasted their time and did not get the value of the tribute contributed I do get this complaint but I assuring you that here in the pretty sissy training,g you will be given a series of assignments and sissy tasks that will take you on a journey The Academy is dedicated to helping sissys learn the finer points of femininity, along with teaching all the naughtier aspects of their femme dreams. Daily convos with Mistress, with daily and weekly tasks are utilized to help you on your journey through humiliating sassiness and towards your feminization.no matter your current age, busy work schedule, and other activities that might hinder you we have different modular that fit into any of the mentioned above You will learn about feminization, sissification, chastity, and others. About what it is, and how you can enjoy it to fulfill your own sexual fantasies. The information you give to me about your fetish and fantasy is what will be used to tailor the perfect training to help you reach your sissy goal

So, let's get started! NEVER-ENDING REASONS NOT TO JOIN THIS TRAINING PROGRAM You will experience Feminization at its fullest: become the sissy you’ve always wanted to be and better serve your Mistress. You will explore your true self: explore your femininity in a safe and comfortable environment Eliminating excessive masturbation Go deep, anal deep: You still need to pleasure yourself somehow, right? Get ready for sissygasms and Overcome post-nut guilt: break the cycle of mood swings and guilt after orgasming, feel the magic I'll be waiting for your application sissy and please be respectful if you know you will not respond to messages immediately please do not sign up for this training because this is all about communication and trust Thank you.

[s-rosie]

JAVERY HCSSSSSSS #2

hiiii!!! i hope everyone is doing wonderful and taking care if themselves, with that said, i hope you like these!

jameson can rub avery’s stomach in just the right way, it gets rid of her period cramps

they make each other those aesthetic, cute, and meaningful gifts when the other is feeling shitty

they tried that “you need a hug” trend when the boyfriend jumps on the girlfriend’s back, and avery fell over and hit her nose (jameson then felt so bad, he gave her so many cuddles and kisses)

they have onesies that are stitch for jameson and angel for ave

they sing musicals together and assign each other characters to play

i hc that ave has hormone problems, so jamie will help her by holding her hair when she throws up, holding her when she gets dizzy, and giving her cuddles (not me projecting again 💀)

in their room, they have a whole corner filled with cute stuffies

they take long drives sometimes and just talk about life and scream sing their fav songs

jameson once pulled ave into a closet (😏) and oren was going crazy trying to find her because he thought she was kidnapped again (they then had to sit through a 20 minute lecture)

everyone online calls them “america’s favorite couple”

jamie loves going shopping with her and he has good fashion taste, so he will help her find outfits

one time nash told them to get a room, so jameson was like “fine maybe i will” and avery was like “fine by me” as a joke (not really) and nash was mortified

xander once dared them to play 7 minutes in heaven, and it got a bit heated

they went on a trip to nyc, and jameson taught avery how to ice skate at rockefeller rink because i hc he plays hockey

i hc ave is allergic to metal, so jamie covers all of his rings and jewelry with a clear coat so she can hold his hand, and he always makes sure to gets her hypoallergenic jewelry

they are both obsessed with combat boots, especially doc martens

they have spa dates before big events to make sure they look ✨fabulous✨

jamie and avery are the best at just dance, like if they team up against you you know its over for you

after “activities” (😏) jamie will carry her wherever she needs to go until she can walk

ave always takes the blankets and makes herself a burrito in the blankets (jamie acts annoyed but he obviously finds it adorable)

jameson loves olives, but ave hates them (the olive theory)

one time at the beginning of their relationship, she got overwhelmed by jameson touching her so she pulled away, and he felt like he did something wrong. she assured him it was ok and she just got overwhelmed so they made a secret tap that ave can do on jamie’s arm so he knoes to let go and give her space (though, she uses the tap less and less now)

at their wedding, jamie cried seeing avery walk down the isle, causing her to start crying and they met at the alter a bawling mess

they always hype each other up and stand up for each other no matter what

since i think it is pretty much cannon that jameson does nascar at this point, before his races, ave gets really scared that he will get hurt, so she will tell him things like “don’t die” and “if you die, ill kill you” and he just laughs and tells her he will be ok

at any event that either of them do, the other always brings them a gift pertaining to that event

ave is SUPER tickle ish, and jamie will tickle her sometimes until she cant breath (she pretends she hates it, but jamie kbows she loves it)

thank you so muchhhh! i hope you like these as much as i enjoyed making them. please give me some recommendations as to what yo make next. i will be busy for a while, so if i post few and far between, just know that i will be back (tho i will post more then that) so if i dont get to your request right away, just know i will eventually. thank you 😊

[innerempire]

{Quentin / Peter - Uncle & nephew - will be continued}

Peter’s parents are going through a divorce - dad has moved out, his mom needs to travel out of town for a month or two for work, so she tells him that he’s going to be staying with his uncle for awhile. It’s not the best plan because his mom and uncle didn’t really keep in touch over the years, and Peter only remembers bits and pieces about his Uncle Quentin.

He tries to assure his mom he can hold the fort down at home for two months, but she gives him that fond little “yeah, right” smile. He really doesn’t know what to expect because the last time he had seen his uncle, he had been a kid and now, he’s 17. From what he knows from overhearing conversations with his parents then, Quentin could be a bit of a grump and was quite the workaholic, hence his own divorced status.

He straight up gawks when his mom pulls up in the man’s driveway because apparently, his uncle is rich rich. Conversation between his mom and Uncle Quentin is awkward, but he thinks it’s endearing how Quentin tries to comfort her by making a gruff joke like, “Hey, you know I can get his law firm shut down in seconde, right?”.

The pair exchange a sort of awkward hug, but Peter can sense that his mom’s happy that they’re on talking terms once more. As Quentin leads them inside and Peter trails behind him, he can’t help but to think just how tall and broad the male’s overall physique is. He’s not sure as to why he feels tongue-tied around his uncle, not quite able to meet the male’s eyes when Quentin asks him about school (“um, I’m mainly…online classes for now until I graduate”).

Peter finds out for himself what a workaholic Quentin is. For the next four days, Peter eats all of his meals alone because Quentin’s holed up in his lab in the office. It’s lonely, but he passes the time reading books from Quentin’s generous home library. Quentin tells him he can use whatever he needs, so Peter cooks because he finds it therapeutic.

He nearly has an heart attack when he wanders into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed, and finds Quentin sitting at the table with his iPad and cup of coffee. He had gotten used to being alone in the house after not seeing his uncle for four days straight. Now it’s awkward. Still, Peter pours himself a glass of kombucha and hesitates before he occupies one of the empty seats.

“…were you the one who made the seafood paella yesterday?”

“Yup.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t pick up those cooking skills from your mom.”

Peter laughs,” Nah, I took Home Ed last year and I enjoyed it, so I started watching videos and experimenting on my own. It calmed me down a lot. Plus, a kid’s got to feed himself when both of his parents avoid coming home for dinner because they don’t want to see each other.”

Quentin frowns upon hearing that, but says nothing else.

Later on, after his uncle leaves for work, Peter finds a credit card on the island counter and a text message asking him to buy whatever he needs for the kitchen.

Quentin starts coming home for dinner. Peter enjoys their dinner together, because he had spent the last couple of years eating by himself at home. Quentin talks mostly about work, but Peter doesn’t mind. He finds it fascinating. His dad kept his work life personal, and considering that he’s been having an affair with his own secretary, that’s probably the reason why.

Peter feels less lonely whenever Quentin works from home. Sure, they’re busy doing their own things - Quentin in his study, and Peter up in his room completing his e-learning assignments. Often, he’s in the kitchen getting a snack and he can hear the fruststion and thinly-veiled annoyance in Quentin’s voice during a Zoom meeting. So he does what he usually does for his mom when she’s stressed ; he makes Quentin a cup of coffee.

As time passes, a routine is developed and the pair become more comfortable being around each other. Peter no longer worries about yapping Quentin’s ear off, they have nights where they just lounge in the living room engaging over playful banter over whatever they’re watching. Quentin brings him out on days that he has more time freed up, and Peter can’t help but to compare how Quentin has spent more time with him these past three weeks compared to when he had been living in the same house as his own dad.

And Peter has to admit that he likes being able to take care of Quentin; be it prepping his meals, getting the coffee ready first thing in the morning, tidying up the house. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he finds comfort in it.

“Are you looking for the shirt with the blue cuffs?” Peter asks when Quentin pops into the kitchen to snag a cup of coffee. “You mentioned you wanted to wear it for today’s meeting, so I already ironed it for you.”

“Seriously, what will I do without you-“ Peter knows it’s just Quentin being playful, but he still flushes to the tip of his ears.

“You survived all these years, you’ll manage.”

“Sure, but you’ve made everything so easy for me these days. Maybe I should just tell your mom I want you here with me.”

“…I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Aw, growing fond of your ol’ Uncle Beck, huh?” Peter smiles when Quentin gently tousles his hair. “Hope you know I’m fond of you too, kiddo.”

[youryurigoddess]

Case study and analysis of the 1992 Good Omens movie screenplay (“the shitscript”) in light of the ongoing WGA strike

As one could suspect, the topic of the 1992 Good Omens movie screenplay and its infamy has recently emerged from the depths of the fandom. In light of the ongoing WGA strike it’d be good to properly address this issue, starting with Neil Gaiman’s own recollection written in 2004:

It’s basically the same old story — of brilliant creative workers struggling under the pressure of detached studio executives and being legally forced to mutilate their work again and again for no artistic or economic reason — we’ve heard before in many different contexts.

If you’re reading this and somehow still wondering why writers are fighting for their rights at the moment, their job security hasn’t changed much since then. Please follow the WGA, SAG-AFTRA, and other unions’ official channels for detailed information and ways to help the cause.

Anyway, it took over a decade and an enormous effort to print the screenplay in a limited edition of 552 copies. It can’t be distributed otherwise due to IP law, but some fans shared its fragments online and heavily criticized them, dubbing the 1992 source material #shitscript

There’s been obviously a lot of controversies over the changes in the plot and the relationship between the main characters. And rightfully so — the number of iterations has created something very different from the beloved book and the award-winning show we can all enjoy today.

It’s… objectively not good. Wouldn’t be considered a hit back then and certainly not by today’s standards. I don’t think I would watch it in any other way than through channel surfing. However, it’s not a monstrosity some people believe it to be and not a case of low effort.

Let’s start with the world building: the setting wasn’t changed to the US. It’s still very much based in the UK, mostly London and Tadfield, although the latter lies now by the sea and seems much more ominous. Interestingly, the British Museum becomes a prominent location as well.

The main character and the designated hero is not surprisingly Crowley, this time in his 90s anti-hero glory. If you haven’t watched many movies of this era, esp. dark fantasy, this trope involves middle-age disenchantment, cynicism, as well as hefty doses of sarcasm and brooding.

90s anti-heroes are a dark, grim, and unnecessarily violent embodiment of power fantasy, matching the destructive ideology of that time. Combined with uber-masculinity and performative strength over weaker characters, nowadays they naturally evoke more cringe or worry than awe.

1992 iteration of Crowley is basically in his Furfur era. Deeply unhappy and stuck in a dead end job, all he talks about is how he hates Earth and his assignment here, considering a transfer to Alpha Centauri as his one and only possibility of career advancement. Or life, really.

The talking part is important here, because he clearly compensates by insulting everything and everyone. He hates on the whole planet at length only to confess that he’d rather stay here with Aziraphale due to “no good restaurants”, “no decent bottle of wine” in Alpha Centauri.

Yes, he’s verbally abusive in his automatic response to stress. But doesn’t hate Aziraphale. In one particular scene he calls Azi stupid twice only to assure him that they are friends and to offer to solve the problem when he sees that his words were taken seriously and hurt him.

Crowley refers to him as “my angel” and “my dear Aziraphale”, agrees to Aziraphale’s suggestion of sharing a room, praises the angel as a “miracle worker around the home”, drinks the tea he makes for him, and generally proves to be much softer towards him than he wants to admit.

Aziraphale, on the contrary, wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s the one engineering ways to spend more time together, following Crowley around, checking up on him (including miracling himself into his apartment and office when no one answers the door), offering help right away.

He’s successfully calming Crowley down through his anxiety attacks, overcomes his dislike of heights (!) for Crowley, directly challenges him and even breaks rules only to make Crowley stay with him. Crowley seems to be his main motivation in this movie, not the saving the world.

1992 Aziraphale also has the most badass scene in the whole Good Omens multiverse to date, taking a 180 degree turn from the typical guardian angel we all know and love to the real angel of wrath protecting Crowley from harm in his true form.

But there’s no Their Side in this universe. The only semblance of that concept appears in the context of Anathema not representing either of their respective bosses, but humanity. “That’s the trouble with the humans. They’re on their own side.”

This Crowley appears not as much on Hell’s side as under Satan’s heel. He’s scared of him and subservient, and needs Aziraphale to prevent his escape as a pretext to do what is right. He lets the angel stop him by pretending that he doesn’t even see him cheating during their duel.

By finally standing up to his toxic boss (Satan is like Gabriel during the body-swapped trial, suave and cruel) and leaving Hell’s side to do good, Crowley takes an emancipated and employee-focused stance instead of fighting for his relationship with Aziraphale like shown in S1.

Which is a shame, but matches the overall tone of the screenplay and the times it was written in. The concept of free will, while simplified in a true Hollywood-style to issues like mind control and fear, is still crucial to this interpretation of the Good Omens original plot.

Especially the character of Anathema is seen fighting both of these things. There’s no Agnes Nutter with her prophecies here, only a 21-year-old witch and her will to thwart the ultimate evil versus her fear of doing it at a cost of one boy’s life, versus Satan’s brainwashing.

Madame Tracy appears slightly redesigned as a new character as well, but isn’t 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 for the most part. She’s been enjoying her youth way too much to see how fast it was fleeting, and this sudden realization left her in shock from which she denies to come back.

Unfortunately she’s also the one who took in baby Adam and now stays under his care. The level of his parentification is unnerving, much like his bullying and loneliness. He struggles to be loved and ask for love, which becomes his main quest beyond, y’know, the apocalypse thing.

Don’t worry, despite everything all ends well just like in the book. The family of two gets a chance to start again on much healthier terms and Anathema to live for herself for the first time in years. Our heroes get back in their car, Crowley tempting Aziraphale with an apple.

All in all, this whole post is a very long reminder for Amazon Prime to #PayYourWriters, #PayYourActors, and #RenewGoodOmens! The strike is still ongoing and crucial for any new content for this and many other fandoms #GiveMeS3orGiveMeDeath

[scramblecat]

Because I'm so Normal about characters, I typed out a nearly 3k word long essay/observation on how Handler's opinion on Agent Phoenix changes over the course of all three games. It's basically just reiteration of parts of the games I found relevant, and is by no means coherent, but it was fun to write so I thought I'd post it anyway!

Big huge spoilers for all three games under the cut!

So, let's start with some background, shall we?

In the Agency (more specifically, the EOD) agents are very disposable. They die all the damn time-- we know this not only from various comments from multiple characters throughout the game, but also from the board in the debrief room to Phoenix's right-- which shows a list of agents, from which agents are constantly being shuffled out of.

And that's the whole point of the game's name-- Phoenix, being an agent, is expected to die, because there's so many little things that can go wrong. They're expected to die by not only Zoraxis operatives, but Agency personnel as well.

So it's only natural that Handler has a certain nonchalance towards agents dying. He knows how often they do die, and he's used to it. So he knows not to get attached. Hell, he doesn't even have enough time to get attached, the agents are gone so soon.

I Expect You To Die

Agent Phoenix is a brand-new agent, assigned to the Handler we know and love. And, exactly like all the other agents, he expects them to die. Maybe not immediately, but he knows they're going to die nonetheless. And he's very casual about it.

That's exactly why he seems so unbothered at the end of Operation Deep Dive, because as soon as they got into that escape pod and communications were lost, he just went ah. Whoops, another agent down. Too bad. And that's all there really was to it.

If anything, though, he's impressed with them, even if he doesn't show it. He commented on how many people die in those escape pods all the time, and from the state of the escape pod itself, it's easy to infer that it was a struggle. So perhaps he gains a little more respect for them, and starts taking them a little more seriously after that.

As he watches them perform more and more, his opinion continues to change. No matter how unconventional their methods are sometimes, Phoenix is a damn good Agent, and they pull through again and again and again. In First Class, he's actually starting to enjoy working with them. Based on his 'third favorite agent' comment before First Class, I'd imagine to start out he had multiple agents, but by the time the Death Engine rolls around, maybe he's down to only Phoenix. That, or around the start of IEYTD2, he makes the decision to take Phoenix on as his own agent, to make sure they can continue being an agent in the EOD even after they're supposed to have 'died'.

He's not exactly at the level of attachment yet, but… Even through the chaos of the Death Engine destroying the building next door to the EOD HQ, he's worried. You can hear it in his voice post-mission, when he lets Phoenix know that he and a few Agency personnel are closing in on the crash site of the Death Engine. At this point, he wouldn't be devastated if Phoenix died, but he'd probably be a little saddened and disappointed by it.

And then comes IEYTD2.

Spy and the Liar

In Jet Set, once Phoenix takes down the signal jammer, Handler comes back online, and he sounds a bit frantic as he tries to get a hold of Phoenix again. Usually, he's rather lighthearted during missions, but he puts on a no-nonsense demeanor while he's helping Phoenix re-route the plane. He's worried for them. He also praises them when they do things right, and tells them to chin up, and assures them that they're almost through this. Which is not something he's done before. Not only does he care about their safety, he also cares about their wellbeing, and he's determined to keep both intact. In IEYTD2, he's not only there with Phoenix as another presence, he is also there as moral support, and he leans into that job very much.

When he sees the missile, he becomes more urgent.

For the first time, he's scared for them.

In Eaves Drop, Handler goes with Phoenix-- albeit, not all the way into Fabricator's workshop, but he goes with them nonetheless. I don't know about anyone else, but it surprised me, at least.

Handler is comfortable enough with their skills to know that they're worth going with. They're valued highly by not only him, but the Agency, too-- they've been an outstanding agent, and are very quickly making their way up the ranks mission after mission after the Death Engine, and they are all but considered the best of the best. They're a really fucking good agent. So the Agency knows that they're worth investing in.

In Party Crasher, Handler comments on Phoenix's eye injury. While they've obviously dealt with worse before, he's still fussing over them a little bit.

And it's just little things like this. In IEYTD2 he's so much more invested in Phoenix's work and wellbeing, and it shows. He's getting really attached, and he's not supposed to, but he very much is.

One thing I want to mention before we get to the painfully obvious, though, is the end of Safe and Sound.

Do you remember when I said agents die all the time? That the Agency, and Handler, are both so nonchalant about agents going missing and dying?

Handler says he's been trying to get a hold of Phoenix for hours.

He's personally gone out to search for them. On his own.

If Phoenix was any other agent, he's supposed to let them die. He would not put hours of effort in tracking and searching to try and recover them-- especially not by himself. I have no doubts this choice of action was frowned upon at the Agency, but he was desperate. He needed them to come back alive. Phoenix is the best of the best, so that need was warranted.

And that brings us to the moment you've probably been waiting for me to mention.

Rising Phoenix.

Now, to start, his debrief. 'If anyone can do it, it's you, Agent.' And then he chuckles to himself, '…Agent Phoenix.'

He sounds amused by the name, but also very fond of it.

You know how people who are fostering like. cats and stuff don't give them names because they'll end up getting attached?

That's the final damning piece. He cares so much about Agent Phoenix-- they already weren't 'some random agent' to him after the Death Engine, but now, they're Agent Phoenix. Agent Phoenix, a completely unique person in their own right. He cares about them as both an agent and a person. And he doesn't do a very good job of hiding it.

Throughout the entirety of Rising Phoenix, Handler is at Phoenix's side, helping them along, giving moral support, telling them that it's going to be okay. He's fearing for them just as much as (or even more than, depending on your interpretation) they're fearing for themself.

When Zor is threatening Phoenix, Handler gently tells them to focus, and assures them that they can do this. He tells them to ignore them, stays by their side, reassures them and keeps them calm.

He sounds like he knows what needs to happen when he tells Phoenix they'll fall to their death, but he says it anyway. Maybe there's another way. He can't lose them now. But he knows he's about to.

And then they fall.

And Handler, who's gotten far too attached to this agent that wasn't supposed to live, cries out, yells their name as the elevator plunges.

And Phoenix dies, right before his eyes.

In Handler's report (his final report, that is, about the Juniper incident), he sounds… different. Handler stumbles on Phoenix's name the first time he says it-- his breath catches mid-word, as if he's trying to hold it together I'm not sure how intentional this was but it's THERE and i lose it EVERY TIME i listen to it and he has to pause for a second after saying it, every time he says it. He sounds like he's trying to hold it together throughout the whole report, and just barely succeeding. I personally like to imagine that this report had multiple takes where he just could not keep it together and had to restart, and that thought kills me dead to have but it's a thought.

Handler thinks Agent Phoenix-- or, in the words of Roxana Prism, his Agent-- is gone. He thinks he watched them die. And he got so attached to them that he's horrendously devastated by the loss.

Cog in the Machine (Tutorial)

So, in the beginning of CITM, the tutorial opens, for the first time in any of the games, without Handler in it. We're greeted instead by a new space, by darkness, and a note on the desk.

It says that this place has been evacuated due to the demolition of the Zoraxis base (nearby this new place), and it mentions Phoenix by name.

It's also addressed as, 'to the next Agent'.

So, we can infer a few things from here, one of which gets confirmed later in the game.

A new Agent was (or is going to be) assigned to this location.

Agent Phoenix is now famous within (and outside of) the Agency. (This is also confirmed on the newspaper on the desk, which cites them as 'one particularly skilled agent')

It's unclear how long it's been since Rising Phoenix or at least I don't know but clearly, it's been plenty of time for word to spread on what happened.

Now, bear with me here while I spout some non-canon information, but this means Handler has likely been hearing about Phoenix's death nonstop since it happened. And knowing how distraught he was over it, it can't have been good for him to be continuously reminded of it. So, this whole time, not only does he think they're dead and he watched them die (and maybe could've done something about it had he acted quicker), but word about it is everywhere.

So, turning back around to my aforementioned idea that by IEYTD2, Phoenix is his only agent, Phoenix submitting their earpiece and identification reconnects them with Reginald and Reginald alone.

When we hear him for the first time in IEYTD3, Handler sounds far different than usual-- he snaps at the person on the other end, as if he's enraged by simply being called. And knowing that he's usually rather lighthearted in demeanor, this in itself is alarming. He's not doing well if he reacts like that.

And then he recognizes who's on the other end.

His demeanor changes immediately. The disbelief and then the giddy joy in his words are also at a level that we've never heard from him before. He laughs-- a full laugh-- and the complete turnaround of his mood is staggering. From this reaction alone, it goes without saying how much he'd truly grown to care for Phoenix before their 'death'. however i am going to continue with saying because the tutorial fucked me up and i cannot emphasize it enough /silly

After finding out that Phoenix is alive, Handler goes right back to himself again, cracking a joke about how he couldn't get rid of Phoenix if he wanted to-- which he could've continued with the same tone of the joke, but an overwhelming amount of sincerity and relief and the winding down of exhilaration replaces it instead as he tells them he doesn't want that.

Throughout the rest of the tutorial, he's extremely enthusiastic, and he fusses over Phoenix ('Speaking of explosion, are… you alright?') and he makes his happiness and relief very clear through reminiscing ('Here! I'll walk you through the rest of it. [pause] …Hah. Just like old times.') ('Haha! That's the Agent Phoenix I remember!').

At one point, he even gets audibly a bit choked up ('Well, I daresay you and I are back on the job! …I… Never thought I'd be saying that again… after we lost you…')

After that, he admits that when he said 'final report' at the end of IEYTD2, he meant he genuinely was planning to leave the Agency. Phoenix's death affected him so much that he was ready to quit his job entirely-- he didn't think it was worth it anymore without them. But at Phoenix's return, he's ready to continue in a heartbeat.

By the end of Rising Phoenix, while it's not readily apparent to both Phoenix and Handler himself, Handler is long past the point of 'getting attached' in the way of 'i like this agent specifically'. After the fact, hearing him both in the briefing he gave and here at Phoenix's return, it's clear that Phoenix means so much more to him than that. Phoenix is his purpose and his reason.

Cog in the Machine

So, in CITM, Handler is overall back to his old self, as full of quips as always. The way he presents himself to Phoenix is very different than the previous two games. He doesn't even try and tone down his friendliness towards them-- he and Phoenix are companions, and there's nothing to stop that fact. To hell with the 'don't get attached' thing, they've been through hell and back together, they're allowed to be close with one another (in any interpretation of the phrase!)

But above all that, throughout the entirety of the game, Handler worries over Phoenix. That worry ranges from simple fussing to genuine, actual panic. I'm mentally ill about this game and character analysis in general so I'm going to cover it case by case.

The first notable instance is in Not A Drill, when the destabilized Kinesium explodes, and Phoenix briefly passes out. Handler is frantically trying to get ahold of them when they return to consciousness, and he is very much pushing to get them out of there fast. He even admits to worrying about them at the end-- while not directly, it's still worry. And in the debrief, he's still super concerned about the kinesium explosion interacting with Phoenix's implant, and alludes to fearing for their life because of it.

In Blind Spot, he checks in on Phoenix if they hit their head on the ceiling after activating the ejector seat, and there's a bunch of little moments like this scattered throughout the game. He cares a lot more if they hurt themself in general, but…

Hot Water.

Operation: Hot Water is the prime example of what I've been talking about in this section.

During the briefing, Handler mentions that another agent experienced a blackout similar to Phoenix's in this same area, and Phoenix is to go investigate it. This already sets the groundwork for him to be concerned about this mission, but as we know… well. Everything goes to shit.

Handler begins to sound nervous as soon as the lab rumbles. He blames it on the wind, and then it happens again, and then Zor's giant squid shows up.

And Handler begins to panic.

When I say panic, I mean panic. He's stuttering, he's audibly having trouble breathing, he's raising his voice.

I'll admit, the first time around, I thought I was just reading too much into his lines-- and then when he commented on it, I thought it was simply going to be played for laughs.

But no.

When the squid comes back, Handler shoots right back into that panic. I'll also admit that at first, I thought he was just scared of the squid, and then he yells that he's getting a wetsuit on. That he's coming to save Phoenix.

Handler, in the entirety of IEYTD3, is terrified for Phoenix's life.

He lost them once. He thought they died. He thought he watched them die. Maybe he thought he could do something.

And he knows that he can't bear to live with that. He now knows how much they mean to him. How badly it hurts when they're gone.

He can't lose them again.

And he'd do anything to keep them alive, if he can. He'd jump into the ocean by himself to seriously risk his life to save theirs. He almost did do that.

Just to make sure they're safe.

Phoenix, over the course of the past three games, has defied Agency expectation in terms of dying. Handler, over the past three games, has defied Agency expectation in terms of caring.

In the first game, he was dismissive about the idea of Phoenix dying. In the third, he's ready to sacrifice anything to save them.

Many expect Phoenix to die. Handler needs them to live.

[blueharborhq]

TASK 004 — RANDOMIZER #1

Happy September, everyone! As we celebrate (nearly) four months of being open here at Blue Harbor, we'd love to introduce something new and exciting: a randomized interaction task! This type of task is one that we'd love to incorporate more consistently moving forward in order to ensure that everyone is making new IC / OOC connections, staying inclusive towards others, and having fun! Unlike previous tasks, THIS TASK IS MANDATORY FOR ALL MEMBERS TO PARTAKE IN, excluding those who have joined or taken up additional characters following the date of September 1st. Don't worry, though, it's relatively simple! Underneath the cut, you will find every character of BH split up into smaller groups of four ( two will be of five ). These groups were mainly chosen by an online randomizer, with minimal admin interference to make sure that everyone was paired with as many different members as possible, most of whom they may not interact with frequently. That being said, considering the sheer quantity of muns and characters, there may be instances of repeats (For example: A, who has four characters, being in two separate groups with B, who also has four characters) — so don't be alarmed if that's the case for you! That just means more opportunity to chat with someone.

By October 1st, we expect all characters within a group to have at least one interaction individually with each other. This gives you all four weeks to plot and work out a connection— be it random or otherwise — with every character assigned to yours, and every mun in your group! These interactions do not need to be complex, nor do they even need to be written threads. Since this is the first time we're implementing this sort of task, we'll happily accept interactions like texts / calls / facetimes for this, so long as you keep in mind that they will not count towards activity. Ideally, these interactions will not be dropped and will surpass just one reply back and forth; we really want everyone to put the most amount of effort possible into this, rather than doing the bare minimum because it's required. PLEASE NOTE: We will be keeping track as best as we possibly can, and anyone who does not start the required interaction within the given time frame (who has also not opened up a conversation with us to discuss) may receive a friendly follow up! Rest assured, if you wind up falling into this category, you won't be in trouble in any way! We simply want to understand how we can make future installments of this task better for you and improve upon it for next time!

That being said, if you feel as though you cannot complete this task for any reason, please reach out to us. This task is supposed to be something fun and mutually beneficial for all, not a chore! Nor should it be stressful in the slightest. So if there is an element to this task that you are unhappy with, so much so that you feel like you cannot complete it, we need to know. We're willing to chat, help and compromise to make sure that everyone is having a good time! You can do so via the main's direct messages or either admin personally on Discord, as the anonymous feature will remain disabled for the foreseeable future.

Ahead of time, we thank each and every one of you for your cooperation!

GROUP 1.

Deacon Edwards ( Laine )

Elijah Falvey ( Kellen )

Leandro Contreras ( Stef )

Safiye Aksoy ( Kris )

Valletta Cambridge ( Emily )

GROUP 2.

Rafael Moldonado ( G )

Giselle Finch ( Kau )

Rachel Han ( Claire )

Dante Kidd ( Stef )

Madisyn Huang ( Soph )

GROUP 3.

Oliver Ashford ( Alyssa )

Ash Williams ( Em )

Ruby Morrisey ( Kau )

Estefania Betancourt ( Velouria )

GROUP 4.

Maximilian Mohan ( Frankie )

Halide Dursun ( Hanna )

Theodora Nowak ( Ceecee )

Sawyer Marshall ( Alyssa )

GROUP 5.

Dylan Westwick ( Claire )

Warren Pearce ( Hanna )

Grayson Heller ( Christie )

Valentine Finch ( Laine )

GROUP 6.

Juno Behar ( Stef )

Theo Bailey ( Mina )

Jack Lynch ( Aaron )

Grace Connors ( Krys )

GROUP 7.

Dilara Kaplan ( Stef )

Calahan Macarthy ( Manes )

Eliana Kendrick ( Sarah )

Leonard Katz ( G )

GROUP 8.

Daniel Choi ( Krys )

Thalia Edwards ( G )

Ruairi Macarthy ( Riley )

Antonella Ibarra ( Talia )

GROUP 9.

Cassie Westwood ( Hanna )

Dahlia Young ( Krys )

Damian Escobedo ( Ceecee )

Lisha Katz ( J )

GROUP 10.

Sofia Escobedo ( Em - 2 )

Selina Vale ( Talia )

Leon Wozniak ( J )

Angel Wallace ( Sarah )

Trey Kingston ( Christie )

GROUP 11.

Jasper Finch ( Manes )

Phoebe Yates ( Soph )

James Bennett ( Eric )

Terry Lowenstein ( Laine )

GROUP 12.

Jia Kim ( Em )

Lainey Caldwell ( Nikki )

Jeanie Ramachandran ( Aaron )

Elspeth Sun ( Manes )

GROUP 13.

Berenice Henry ( J )

Isabel Guzman ( Alyssa )

Maya Jackson ( Krys )

Avery Chopra ( Bay )

GROUP 14.

Saul Weissberg ( Velouria )

Lincoln Welch ( Nikki )

Samuel Harrison ( Talia )

Liam Reed ( Em )

GROUP 15.

Scarlett Blackwood ( Caitlyn )

Antonio Beltran ( Ceecee )

Chance Underwood ( Kau )

Nilay Bailey ( Bay )

GROUP 16.

Arizona Ortega ( Kris )

Moshe Behar ( Riley )

Izulu Zakwe ( Emily )

Quintana Weisz ( Nikki )

GROUP 17.

Rory Anderson ( Ceecee )

Matty Foster ( Molly )

Lewys Stone ( Sky )

Micah Weissberg ( Frankie )

GROUP 18.

Josie Finch ( Em - 2 )

Nate Abadiño ( Kau )

Roman Daniels ( Soph )

Charlette Lowenstein ( Riley )

[olderthannetfic]

olderthannetfic/729300911208448001/the-reason-theres-more-positivity-for

This is trolling. No one assumes trans men are masculine. We get called boys even in our 30s, drawn as skinny white AFABs in layers of soft clothing, and reassured that it's okay if we want to kiss other boys. Actually, being assured that you're a cutie patootie fem uwu is really dysphoria inducing for a lot of trans men. I was on tumblr when I had just come out when I was 15 and it was incredibly discouraging to see the posts fawning over adorable wittle twans bois. I'm 25, I don't want to hold hands with a boy, I want to fuck a man. I don't want to change my hobbies and I don't care if people think it's toxic masculinity that makes me like "manly" things (way to assign the binary to activities, real progressive of you) and I don't get anything from "let boys be soft" with clapping emojis and sparkles inbetween every word with glittering font. "No actually it's good to not support part of a marginalized group!" no. Your trolling is shit and so are you.

And the idea that ace people are assumed to be against sex actually made me laugh out loud. I'm working on my doctorate and actually, on college campuses? I've heard from professors - not students, professors, adults old enough to have college-age kids - that ace people have sex at the same rate as straights but they need more foreplay, ace people just need more time to get to know you but after that they're sexually indistinguishable from heterosexuals, that asexuality isn't real, that asexuality is an internet label people use instead of admitting that they can't get laid, and my least favorite, that any man who says he's asexual is actually an incel/that asexuality is another term for incels and femcels. Then you hop online and the internet goes, "Ace people love sex! Ace people love kink! Ace people have just as much sexual attraction as other people! You'r'e valid if you're ace and fuck/do kink/are attracted to everyone!" and if there's positivity for people who are ace who aren't into sex, I've yet to see it. Hell, being not into sex gets you labeled "repulsed", like you're retreating from it the way the Wicked Witch of the West would from water and not just not into it. That happened even in OTNF's own comment section, and these are not uneducated people when it comes to queerness, we've just normalized that sex is a part of everyone's identity so much that even if you're asexual, it's weird and must be a repulsion thing if you're not into it. "Uh actually everyone assumes [__] so there's no need for positivity for [__]" fucking where?! Where are all these people who assume being asexual = not wanting sex?

For the record, I got my undergrad at two different universities due to a change of major, got my master's at another, and am getting my doctorate at a fourth, all in four different US states. One was in the Northeast, one was in the South, one was in the Midwest and now I'm on the West Coast. And I have never encountered people who assume trans men are manly or that asexual people don't have sex.

I have encountered sex negative asexuals, people who get so upset they leave the room if you make a joke involving them and sex, who interrupt the professor mid-lecture to say, "Ace people have sex!", though. That's how deeply this is ingrained in some people's minds, they will say it even when it does not apply to them, even when it's the opposite of themselves, so they can make sure they are Educating The Cishetallos and, more importantly, then share the moment they had to do so with their progressive friends for brownie points/in order to be seen as One Of The Good Queers who educates others.

As for the weird thing in the troll ask pretending anyone who talks about their lived experience believes in a conspiracy... do yourself a favor and get help bringing up your literacy before you take the SAT/ACT, kid. Not only is your trolling shit but you don't understand what the word conspiracy means. Someone saying, "[insert thing here] happened to me" is not a conspiracy and this is why your English teachers gave you C's - to get you out of their classroom and make your lack of comprehension someone else's problem.

In the event this wasn't a troll but was actually what you read, please get two tutors and possibly a screening for any latent anxiety or mental illnesses that would explain how you read people venting about shitty life experiences and thought they believed there was a conspiracy of some kind going on. Because that's the kind of making shit up out of thin air my dad, who has diagnosed Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Paranoid Personality Disorder, would do, and it's not a great sign if you read people going, "the people around me are shitty about this" and jumped to "the people who sent those asks are saying there's a conspiracy theory against them and I am the one sole person who can see the truth here!"

I really don't know how to explain this to people but if someone says something is shitty on their campus, they're saying something is shitty on their campus. It's not a personal attack or conspiracy. Sometimes shit fucking sucks and it's exactly that deep.

--

You wouldn't think "Someone had a stupid-ass opinion on my college campus" would be that hard to believe.

[sophiyablogs]

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[i-fucked-your-milkshake]

Oh are we talking about plagiarism?

So in undergrad I took a science fiction course online. Beginning of class we had to do introductions—you know the kind, those Canvas “hey guys I’m super excited for this class and looking forward to getting to know everyone this semester!!!” posts—and this one girl makes this BIG DEAL about how this is her last class and IN FACT she’s already walked the stage and she just needs this class to officially get her diploma and that she was SUPER EXCITED to start grad school in the fall. Good for her. You love to see it.

So we’re doing Frankenstein and we have to do a weekly reading post. You know the kind—write a post, respond to two like “hey person, I thought it was really interesting when you said ‘x’ about y”—and we had to write about who the real monster was (Victor, obvs) and so I do. I write a really great one. An above and beyond kinda post.

And our recently basically graduated, already admitted to grad school friend copy and pasted mine. Word for word. And posted it. Word for word. Into the same assignment thread.

Prof was like “this is absolutely egregious and I can’t believe she actually thought she could get away with it, I’ll handle it.”

Three days later I get an email from this girl titled “Plagiarism apology.” I read it. Standard fare. Whatever. I’m ready to let it go but then my wife, my dear sweet hilarious wife, said to me “it would be pretty funny if she plagiarized this” so I googled “plagiarism apology” AND GUESS WHAT THE FUCK I FOUND.

She plagiarized the plagiarism apology, word for word. Except for the bit about promising to help the school locate any additional examples of plagiarism she may have committed. She left that part out.

So I forward that to my prof, specifically pointing out that she left this part out which was sus, he responds with “welp, she was gonna be let off the hook but you can rest assured this classmate will have no further opportunities to plagiarize you or anyone else in this class.”

So she gets sent to an academic hearing and I write a statement for that and they do an investigation. Turns out she’d paid someone to take her past class for her, she got kicked out of school, diploma withheld, and had her grad school acceptance rescinded.

That’s my plagiarism story.