#which might push me over to like 40 hours. (:

[oflgtfol]

just realized that between my normal retail job and my internship im working ~30 hours a week. outside of class

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter sixteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.6K (You know you love it)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Alot of Angst, Crying, Heartbreak, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Additional Warning: This chapter contains severe amounts of fluff and angst. Ben is SUPER OOC and really soft in this chapter, I will not apologize for that, but I will say you're welcome 😉 If you don't like either of those things, then probably shouldn't read this?

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When you wake up you think you dreamed it all, but one look at your blotchy red face in the mirror of your bathroom, dried snot on your shirt, and your inability to find your phone means that it did happen.

Ben was back and you didn't know where to go from here.

Bits and pieces of the conversation explode in your head like fireworks and your grip on the bathroom sink tightens so much that the countertop cracks beneath your hands.

Shit.

You extract your fingers from the marble that crumbled like gravel in your iron grip and glance down at your watch. You’d been asleep for 7 hours, which meant that now it was 10 pm and you probably weren't going to sleep tonight.

As if you could after everything that just happened.

Honestly, you were surprised that you had been able to, but you figured it was just the exhaustion of everything that happened, the heartbreak, the shouting, the tears, the inability of you to let go of the past, and Ben's confession of love that you waited 80 years to hear. You had wondered in the past if he wanted to say it the night that you decided to come with him, if he really did care for you as much as you cared for him all these years. Now that you knew, you wish you didn't. You wish that you could let him go, let go of the things that happened all those years ago, and wish that you hadn't fallen for him and expected him to catch you.

You think about crawling back into bed and hugging your pillow until you fall asleep so you don’t have to think about Ben. You wince at the thought of his name.

He apologized, admitted that he loved me, said that what he did was wrong, said that he wouldn’t leave- The urge to cry lodges in the back of your throat. How do I have any tears left?

You think about how much you wanted to run to him, to throw yourself into his arms, but you knew that you shouldn't want to. Ben broke you. What he did weighed on your heart everyday, but you wanted to forgive him.

How can I still want him as much as I do? How can I want him to fix this even after he did everything he could to push me away?

The look in his eyes when he confessed his feelings to you flashes through your mind in black and white.

Ben admitted weakness, said that he was scared of all things. Ben wasn't afraid of anything.

Over 40 years of friendship meant that you knew every part of him, but the part you had seen in your apartment, him practically begging you to forgive him was not one that you were used to and was not one that you had ever seen.

It was unusual for him to look broken and vulnerable.

The closest you'd ever come to seeing it was on the nights back in Philadelphia when he tapped on your window, on nights when his father gave him a hard time and Ben needed a place to crash. When the look in his eyes made you want to pull him into your arms and never let him go, to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he wasn't a disappointment. Because despite everything with Countess, Ben wasn't a disappointment to you.

Everything was easier when you were kids, when Ben would fall asleep beside you in your bed and when you woke up in his arms, you wished that he did it on purpose.

I guess he was trying to say that he did it on purpose. You sigh as you walk into your closet to find a soft t-shirt while avoiding the duffle bag that you threw inside the double doors before you collapsed onto the bed.

But even if he was sorry, how do I know he won’t just act like the boy I used to know and tomorrow pretend he doesn’t exist? It was so easy for him to do that, to say that I meant nothing to him, to act like he didn't care.

You think about the morning after your birthday, when he looked soft and happy in your bed and how quickly he shifted into the cold mask he wore as Soldier Boy. How easy it was for him to push you away and ignore you, act like you didn’t exist and cling to Countess at the premiere.

How do I know he won’t do that again? How can I trust him? How can I forget everything he did?

You think about the night you found him with Countess, think about the moments before at the premiere, when she made you believe that you were the ugly little girl who watched Ben prance around your birthday party with Missy Callahan. Your mind stutters on her name, remembering the last time you heard it in conversation on the night that you wished would never end.

"Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you. Never has been, never will be."

You hear Ben whisper it to you while your song played and remember that it made you feel like you were floating, made you feel understood and seen for the first time in your life. The memory of the night you spent together rises to the surface and you allow yourself to remember, remember how it felt to finally have him completely, how much it meant to you for him to be there with you, and how he made you feel special and loved.

Your jaw clenches as the image of him with Countess sours the memory of the perfect night you had together, as the memory of the words he shouted at you rip through the happy glow you had the morning after your birthday when you told him everything you'd always wanted to.

And then the memory of what he said to you a few hours ago rises.

"We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I'm ready now, I'm not scared anymore. I love you!"

Damn it why does it have to be like this. You clench your teeth together in anger and frustration. Why did he have to do this? Why did I have to love him? Why couldn't he have just stayed gone? Why did he have to come here-

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving!"

The words reverberate around in your skull, shaking through your body like an avalanche, shaking the foundation that you built to push him away. Because you didn't want to. You didn't want him to leave. You didn't want him to leave ever again. But you weren't sure if you could survive again if he did that again. If you opened your heart to him only to have him crush it under his heel all over again.

It was so long ago. 40 years. 40 years that he said he spent regretting what he said that night. We both said things that night.

Sometimes you wondered if Ben was as broken as you were after the fight. You think about how he looked when you went into your room and think about what he said.

Maybe he was.

Apart of you didn’t want to forgive him and didn’t believe that he really understood what he did to you. The other part wanted to leave your apartment and find him, ask him to stay, forgive him and let him back in to your heart.

More frustrated tears slip down your cheeks as you look for a pair of your soft sweatpants. When you walk out of your closet you think about going back to bed again, but you knew that sleep wouldn't come.

Maybe I should call Rosie. She'd be proud of me for not forgiving him, but probably would be mad that he came here. And I should probably tell her that I didn't have to go to Russia.

That thought gives you the strength to leave your bedroom, bare feet padding down the cool floors of the hallway back to your living room. The lights are all off, save from one single lamp on the coffee table next to the plush leather couch, the same one that you'd thrown Ben over when he grabbed your arm.

But when you cross from the hallway into the living room, you realize that you aren't alone.

Ben is sitting on the couch, leaning forward on his forearms, a blunt perched in his right hand where his arm rests against his knee, looking down at his feet. He looks up at you when you walk in, eyes piercing in the warm light of the lamp, familiar in a way that almost makes you start crying all over again.

"What are you still doing here? I thought I told you-" You begin to say, voice hoarse from crying, trying to summon up enough anger to push him away, but then your eyes shift to your kitchen counter.

A pretty glass vase of fresh cut lavender sits on the counter, the sharp clean smell floats through the air soothing the anger and frustration that you drew on to speak.

Despite your age and the way most considered them to be classic, you thought that over the years roses had become generic. But you loved lavender. It reminded you of the country home your family lived at over the summers when your mother declared that the smog in the city was too much and you all needed a holiday. She always seemed softer in the countryside, all the sharp edges of the city melting away. She didn’t snipe at your figure or your paint stained hands, if anything she gave you more freedom. You spent your summers outside in the garden staring up at the clouds missing Ben, painting and sketching, while the smell of the flowers enveloped your senses. You used to send letters to him and some sketches of flowers or small painted doodles after pressing fresh lavender into the envelopes so they would smell like it when they got to him. You wanted him to think of you whenever he smelled lavender.

He remembered how much I loved lavender?

Your eyes shift to the cigar box that lays open next to it, focusing on the slips of paper that seem to spill out over your countertop.

Are those-

You reach into the box and pull out the yellowed pages of letters delicately, eyes drifting across the paper, recognizing your handwriting, remembering the painstaking moments you spent writing them to Ben, hoping that he got them, and hoping that he missed you as much as you missed him. Underneath the ones from the summers are the ones that you sent him when he was at boarding school and then finally the faded pencil sketches and faded watercolor paintings you sent him. Each piece is folded and refolded as if someone continued to look at them over and over again.

Your fingers drift over a small doodle that you did of Ben and you sitting on a bench in Philadelphia, the one that captured you laughing at something Ben said.

It was so much easier then.

“You kept them?” You breathe while looking down at the pages.

Ben stands from the couch, putting out the blunt in one of the decorative glass ashtrays on your coffee table, watching you with the same expression in his eyes that he had when you were there earlier, when you told him to leave and not come back.

"Ben-" Tears begin to fall all over again as you meet his gaze.

"I hated those summers when you were gone. I used to sleep in your room and read the letters." He whispers. "It made me realize how much I needed you in my life. I never needed anyone before." His jaw clenches together as if the thought makes him angry.

“You asked me once why I didn’t stay at those schools. It’s because when I was at all those shitty boarding schools the only thing I could think about was getting back to you, coming back home.”

The word rings in the air between you and you suddenly understand what he is saying, remember what he said the day you were together at your first baseball game and you asked him why he didn't like staying at the boarding schools.

"I don't like being there. It's not home." He had said it so casually, but you remember being confused at his reply, but now you know.

He was saying that home was with you and it made your heart feel like it was ripping itself in half because you were still so angry with him but you didn’t want to be. Not when he was saying the very thing you’d known from the beginning. That being with him was home.

“Ben-“ You say, trying to strengthen your resolve, trying to summon the anger you’ve kept close to your heart for forty years.

"Every time I came to see you, tapped on your window I thought you would push me away, turn your back on me and you never did. And when all this supe shit happened I needed you with me too, that's why I asked you to come with me. Those years before and when we were on Payback, you put up with all my shit. Even when I did horrible things to other people, you stood by me. You know more about me than anyone else, have known me for longer than anyone else-" He takes a cautionary step forward.

Tears continue to fall from your eyes, sobs shaking your shoulders, but you can't speak.

"That night with you, felt different. Even before when we were at that restaurant it was different. I didn't want to leave. It was like nothing changed, like we were in your room again just talking, before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. The only memories that I have from Philadelphia that are worth remembering are the moments I spent with you.  And when I asked if I could come back to your place I-" He sighs rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought you would say no, but you didn't. And then you told me that you had wanted me almost as much as I'd wanted you all those years, that you needed me. I always thought that it was only me that needed you."

"Ben I can't-" You voice breaks looking away from him.

Ben is close enough now that his fingers come under your chin to tilt your face up to his. “I shouldn’t have said what I said or did what I did. I didn’t want to need anyone. I thought that I had to push you away because loving you meant I was weak. But it’s not true. Loving you is the only good thing that I’ve ever done and loving you is the only thing that makes me strong.”

You close your eyes to avoid his gaze, you wanted to believe him, but you weren’t sure that you could.

"I've fucked a lot of women in my life y/n, I won't apologize for that. But I've only made love to one." His thumb brushes away another tear that falls from your eyes. "And when you told me that you wanted me to be your first, it did something to me. I wanted to be everything you needed. I didn't want just one night with you. I wanted all of them. When I woke up the next morning with you in my arms, I didn't want it to end. All those nights when I showed up at your apartment, I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to stay with you because it was home. Even when we were kids, being with you in your room it was the only place that I felt like I belonged.”

Your hand can't help but come up between the two of you, resting solidly on his chest. Apart of you wants to push him away, but you can’t.

Ben is still touching your face, holding it up to his. Your bodies are so close together that you can feel the heat of his skin through the air between you. Another tear falls and Ben's thumb brushes it away. The smell of the lavender is intoxicating, broken up only by the familiar smell of Ben's aftershave and soap.

And somehow you find your voice. It shakes, but you hold his gaze. "I hated you for a long time. What you said broke me. I was broken so many years. I still am-“

“Sweetheart-“

“No.” You inhale sharply. “I want to believe you, but I don’t think you understand what you did. I want to believe that you’ve changed but this is exactly what happened that night on my birthday. Don’t you see? How can I believe you? How do I know that you won't pretend to be everything I want, pretend that you’re the boy I fell in love with and then the next morning you’ll push me away and act like he doesn’t exist-“ Tears leave warm trails down your cheeks.  "I’m not strong enough to go through that again.”

“I promise-“

“Ben you’ve promised in the past. And I-“ More tears come. “I’ve tried so hard to put it behind me. I want to believe that you’re still you but I don’t know if I can trust you again like I did.”

"Y/n." Ben looks deep into your eyes. "I didn't pretend that night. The only time I pretended not to care was in the morning and at the premiere-"

"And how do I know you won't do it again?" You sob. "When you think that it's too weak to admit that you care about me?"

"I do fucking care about you."

"You say that now."

"I love you."

"Ben I can't-"

"I said those things because I-" He sighs, shoulders tight in frustration and anger. "I thought that I needed to push you away, that I shouldn't care about anyone as much as I care about you. But I do.  I fucking care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone in my life. I didn’t want to need anyone but I do. I need you. That’s why I kept showing up in your life. That’s why I spent so many nights in your bed. I couldn’t survive the night alone and I needed you with me, even after we took the damn serum.”

“But-“

“That night when you told me that asshole, Howard proposed I knew that I couldn't lose you. I didn't want you to marry that fucker. I wanted you to be with me. He didn't know you the same way I did, he didn't understand you. He didn't deserve you. And the night we danced together I called you ‘my girl’ because I wanted you to be. I wanted you to be mine. Not because I wanted to piss him off. Because I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you. You’re the one, the only one.”

You drop your gaze to his chest, sobbing quietly to yourself. Ben tilts your head up towards his one more time, to look deeply into your eyes.  There's an unfamiliar vulnerability that stares back at you, the same one you saw when Ben would come to your bedroom and wait for you to ask him to stay because he thought you would push him away the way everyone else did.

"I promise that I will never do that to you again. I know it doesn't make what I did or what I said okay. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to fix it because I can't lose you. I’ve spent forty years away from you and I don’t want to spend anymore time away. I love you. And I hate that I fucking hurt you this much."

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, hear the raw emotion in his voice, but you’re still unsure.

“Please y/n I want to fix this." He says again.

“I know you do. But you can’t just show up 40 years later And expect to fix it in one night. I know it’s not your fault that you didn’t come sooner but, you hurt me-“

“I know I did-“ his eyes drop to your shoulders as the memory of how he grabbed you that night blankets his mind.

“No not like that. Ben you don’t understand. Sorry isn’t enough. And yes hearing you say all these things was nice but it’s not enough to make me forget everything that happened.”

“But-“

“No. Ben I loved you, more than I’d ever loved anyone I-“ You shake your head tears falling fast. “I lost pieces of myself to make you happy  to make sure that you had someone in your life that cared for you. I stayed for so long with you because it was all I thought I could do. And every time I thought I could leave to do something for myself you would do something to pull me back in like you had a fucking radar and knew oh if I do something that she wants I’ll get her to stay with me a little longer!”

“I knew you were unhappy! I was trying to make you happy! I wanted you to stay with me-“

“By manipulating me?”

“No it wasn’t because I wanted to manipulate you I-“ He exhales in frustration. “You told me that you wanted someone to come home to, someone who loved you, a family, I wanted to give you those things! I saw how you were looking at the other couples, I knew what you wanted. That’s why I held your hand at dinner, gave you the necklace, and that’s why I kissed you-“

“But then you pushed me away. You pushed me away when I needed you the most, when I finally said what I'd been trying to say for years.” Your voice shakes. “I can’t go to bed every night with you and wake up with the dread that you’re going to push me away again and say that I mean nothing. That you’ll be cold and unfeeling and- I can’t do that to myself again.”

“I promise I won’t-“

“I don’t know if I believe you. If I can after everything."

"Please just tell me what I can do to fix it."

"I don't know!" You shout running your fingers through your hair pulling back from him. Because you wanted him to fix it. You loved every bit of the words he said, the love he confessed to you. You loved the way he was looking at you, the way he wanted to make this up to you, but your heart wouldn't let go. It couldn't let go of the things he shouted at you, couldn't let go of the image of him and Countess, couldn't forget how happy you were to tell him you loved him and then he just acted like you were nothing. The words he said that night begin to circulate, bringing you deeper into the dark pit that threatened to swallow you whole, the pit that you'd fallen into when you thought he died.

"Ben I-" Your voice catches in your throat. "I wish that I knew what you could do to fix this. I want you to. I want to forget all of it. And I want to forgive you because I still fucking love you, but I can't do it in one day. I can’t -" And despite your better judgement you crumple against his chest, tears smearing against the front of his shirt, body shaking with sobs, and trying hard to not think how it feels the same as it always has to be pressed against him.

Ben's arms come up around you to wrap you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin as he begins to drag his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

The gentleness of his touch makes you cry harder against him, hold on to him so tight that you think you'll break him in half, but he doesn't complain, he just stands there with you. It reminds you of when he came to hold you in the hotel room when your brother died, when he drove for hours to be there for you. Because despite everything that had happened between you, Ben was always there with you before that night with Countess.

You don’t know how long you standing there together, but finally Ben picks you up and carries you down the dark hallway to your bedroom and deposits you on the bed.

He waits a minute on the edge, standing as if he's unsure, brow scrunched up in frustration and anger.

"I didn't mean to hurt you this fucking much. And I don’t know how to-“ His jaw tenses and he shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut like he can't look at you. “I don’t know how to- fuck- I can’t lose you.” Ben grips his hair so tightly you think he’s going to pull it out.

“Ben.” You sigh and despite everything , you stand up from the bed to hug him, allowing him to press his head into your shoulder and hug you so tight it hurts.  It breaks something deeper in your chest because you can see how broken he is, how much he wants to fix this, and how much of him he was willing to let you see.

You didn't understand how he was being so open, how he was allowing himself to be like this after all the bullshit toxic masculinity he usually spouted and how he pushed away his feelings for so long. You wondered if after this he would push you away because you had seen him like this, or if he really did love you and that was why he was doing it.

“It’s okay.” You soothe, running your hands up and down his back. “It’s alright.”

But you’re not sure it is. 

"If you still want me to leave I will. I can sleep on the couch.” Ben whispers. The emotion that flashes in his eyes when he says it, breaks your heart. It's vulnerable and raw, so different that the mask Ben wore as Soldier Boy. “But please don’t make me go.”

"I don't want you to go." You whisper. “Even after everything. I want you here with me, it’s just hard.”

“I’m sorry-"

“I know you are Ben.” You both stand there for a minute and you weigh your options.

You think about making him go back out on the couch, making him sleep alone, but you don’t want that. You knew that you’d spend the whole night thinking about him. And as much as a part of you wanted to push him away, you couldn't. So you do the opposite.

You take his hand and gently entwine your fingers with his. Ben stares down at them for a moment confused, before you sit on the bed, scooting back and tugging softly, but he hesitates.

“Are you sure?” He asks in a whisper, gaze raising from your hands to catch your eye.

You nod once tugging his hand again and this time he follows you down into the mattress.

He slides in next to you beneath the covers, keeping your hands entwined between the two of you so that they are locked against his chest as you face one another on the bed, heads resting on different pillows, but close enough that you can feel his warm breath every time he exhales.

Ben's eyes search yours. “I tried to call after. I picked up the phone but every time I did I couldn’t-“  He sighs. "I was such a fucking pussy. I didn't know what to say. I should have just come over-"

"I wouldn't have let you in." You breathe. "I didn't want to see you, didn't want to see anyone. Stan Edgar tried to come talk to me and I broke his nose."

"Really?" Ben smiles.

"Yeah." You try to smile back, but you can't.

Ben raises his free hand to push back your hair and tuck it behind your ear, but his eyes drop to your shoulders tracing the imaginary bruises that he left behind all those years ago. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn’t mean to-“

You press your lips into a tight line. “I think that’s the only time I’ve ever been afraid of you.” You say in a whisper. You hadn’t wanted to admit it aloud, but it was true. You had been angry and heartbroken, but the fact that Ben had laid a hand on you, was prepared to hurt you had scared you. It was what solidified that the thought that boy you loved was gone.

But the look on his face breaks something inside you, pain and anguish flashing in his eyes.

"Ben-" You sigh, shifting forward closer to him, but he releases your hand and instead wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest, pressing his head into your shoulder. You know that he can't say what he's thinking right now, but he doesn't have to.

“I also remember doing something to you.” You say because you don't know what else to, you’re not used to seeing him look so broken.

“I deserved it.” He mumbles into your shirt.

“You didn’t deserve what I said about your dad-“

“I did. You were right.”

“Ben you’re not like him.”

“But I am. Everything I did to you, is something he would have done.” He mutters, pulling you tighter against him. “I don’t know how to fucking fix this.”

“This is helping a little bit.” You whisper against your better judgement, while you inhale his shampoo and lean further into his chest. It was weird to be here with him after all these years, after all the years you spent hating him. You didn't want to forgive him, you wanted to be angry but at the same time you wanted to believe him, you wanted to believe that the boy you fell in love with was still there.

And laying here with him holding you the way you always wanted him to, made you remember that boy.

“Yeah?” He breathes, raising his head from your shoulder.

“Mhmm.”

You lay there for a minute in his embrace and it's like he never left. It's the same as when you were kids and you laid in bed together. And finally you say. "As angry as I am, I still love you. You matter too much to me for me to let you go. I think that's why it hurts so much, because you're all I had Ben and I-"

"That's why I can't lose you. You're all I have and that’s enough. You are enough. You always have been and always will be.” Ben states his eyes are wide with his confession, the pain of what he did to you flashes through them. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I never could think of a way to say it.”

More tears spring from your eyes and you wonder when you’ll stop crying.

Ben leans his forehead against yours. His expression softens as he looks into your eyes, his touch gentle against your cheek. “But if you’ll let me, I’d like to show you how much I love you and how sorry I am.” The look in his eyes is softer than you’ve ever seen it, reminding you of how he looked on those early mornings still half asleep and reminding you of how he looked the morning after your birthday before he ran.

You know he means well, and you understand what he’s asking, why he’s asking. He’s trying to make it up to you the only way he knows how, but you can’t do it. It's too soon. Too much after everything that happened and too much considering you're still trying to come to terms with the fact that he's here and he's finally saying everything you ever wanted him to. Not to mention that you haven't completely forgiven him.

“Ben?"

“Yeah?”

“Can you just hold me tonight?” You breathe. You felt disgusting. You had snot and tears all over your face and your cheeks were bright red and splotchy from crying. “I’m not ready for that. Not after everything. I don't think I can-”

You watch disappointment flicker in his eyes but he recovers with a soft smile. "It's okay. We can take this slow, whatever you need."

Ben drops the hand that was against your cheek and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest. You snuggle into his arms breathing in the familiar smell before bringing your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck in a tight hug.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

Ben’s arms tighten around you and you know that he must be remembering the past 40 years.

“What they did doesn’t matter.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come for you." You pull back to look into his eyes. "The others told me you were dead. I wouldn’t have left you there if I knew-“

“I know.” Ben leans his forehead against yours. “I would have come for you too.”

“I know.”

 “It means a lot to me that you were still willing to come get me after everything I fucking put you through.”

“That’s what love is.”

“No.” Ben whispers. “That’s you.”

“Ben-“

“I don’t deserve you. You’ve stood by me, put up with all my shit all these years and you never turned your back on me. What I did to you is unforgivable and yet you want me here with you-“

“Ben.” You sigh. “I know that I shouldn’t want you here and a part of me wants to push you away. I should make you leave, but I can’t. You’re my best friend and I love you. And that means that even though you’re the one who hurt me, you’re the only person that I want here, comforting me. As fucked up as that is, I don’t care. What you did was horrible, but I promise that I’m going to try my best to forgive you. It might take a long time, but I want to trust you again, because I love you and I never stopped.”

He frowns despite what you confessed. “You don’t regret-“

“I said a lot of things that night. And you did too." You push his hair back over his forehead. "And for the record, I don't think your father would care about making it up to someone else. We both know that he didn't care about anyone but himself. And even after everything that happened you're proving that you aren't him, right now, by being here with me."

He presses his lips together in a tight line. "Okay."

It’s quiet for a few moments as both of you stare at one another in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Have you really loved me since we were 8?” Ben whispers.

“Yeah. Since the study.” You're not sure if you should be embarrassed or not.

He smiles. “I was 10. It was the night of my mom's funeral. My dad was giving me some shit about something, but I couldn't stop thinking about you so I climbed up the tree outside your window. I wasn't going to ask you to come in, I was just going to sit on the ledge and watch you draw. I like watching you draw, it's like you're in your own little world and you forget about everything else. You always seem so happy." Ben smiles wider. "I like seeing you happy."

You remembered that night. You had a weird feeling that someone was watching you and when you looked out your window you had seen Ben sitting there. You had made a joke about him stalking you, but then invited him in. It was the first night that he had ever spent in your bed.

"And then when we woke up the next morning, you were laying there snoring-" Ben snorts.

"I do not snore." You smile with a sniffle

"You do. It's cute." Ben's smile turns softer. "And I didn't want to wake you up, because it meant that we'd have to move and I didn't want to ever move. Because moving meant that I would have to go back to my dad and I didn't want that. I just wanted to stay there with you."                                     

More tears pour from your eyes with his confession because again you can’t see Soldier Boy, you just see Ben, but you know it’ll take a long time until you’re completely healed.

“I didn’t want to say anything. I thought that if I did you would push me away and I didn’t have anyone else that mattered in my life. And you deserved better than me. I was always getting kicked out of boarding schools I was a fuck up. A disappointment.” Ben sighs, brushing away your tears again. “Even after we took the serum I was.  You deserved someone who was-“

“I didn’t think you were a fuck up, Ben. I’ve never thought that. I hate what your father said to you, what he did to you. I hate that he made you feel like you didn’t matter.”  You stroke your fingertips through his hair and Ben sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “You are worth so much more than what he told you. You mean so much to me, more than anyone else ever. That’s why I never told you. I didn’t want to lose you. You’re everything to me.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I promise I’m never going to leave you again. I missed you so fucking much sweetheart.”

“I missed you too.” You continue to move your fingers through his hair. In the past you had avoided the urge to do so, but now you wanted to comfort him. Because as much as you wanted to forget the last forty years, you wondered what they had been like for him. You wanted him to tell you what they did to him.

“Feels nice.” He murmurs, arms tightening around your waist.

“Your hair’s a lot longer.” You can’t help but smile at his reaction.

“Didn’t have time to cut it.”

“So is your beard-“

“If you don’t like it I can shave it off-“

“No don’t.” You say it quickly and Ben opens one eye to smirk at you.

“Guess you like it.”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll keep it just for you Sweetheart.” He leans further into you. “You know I think you look pretty good too.”

You snort. “You don’t have to butter me up just because you feel bad. I’m wearing sweatpants, I haven't brushed my hair, and my face is all puffy-“

“You look beautiful.”

“Well-“

“Stop. You do.”

“Ben-“

This time Ben raises his hand to cup your chin. “Will you just let me compliment my girl?”

The nickname is familiar. You remember the last time he called you that, when you were dancing and he finally kissed you for the first time. “Do you really mean it this time?”

“I always meant it. You are mine and nothing else matters.” The look in his eyes is determined, as if he wants you to understand how much you mean to him.

“Does that mean that you're mine too?" Your voice is almost a whisper, frightened of his answer. Although he had apologized and said that he wanted to make it up to you, you were still afraid. Afraid that Ben couldn't do this.

"Y/n." Ben's expression is pained. "I promise I will never do that again. I will never hurt you like that ever. Believe me when I say that."

"I'm trying to."

“What can I do to fix it?” He asks again.

“I don’t know.”

And you don't. Because you understood that Ben was trying his hardest to make up for what happened, and yes you loved that he was like this now, but you were afraid, afraid that the next day you'd wake up and he'd be gone and Soldier Boy would be back.

Ben sighs. "I am yours and I don’t want to be anywhere else." His eyes are focused on you, determined, but filled with a softness that turns the beautiful emerald into a clover that reminds you of the soft grass at the park the day you painted him.

You weren’t used to him looking at you like that, like you were the only person in the world. It had only happened one other time, the morning after your birthday when you were more happy than you'd ever been in your entire life.

“Okay.” You whisper back because you don’t know what else to say. “Ben?”

“Mhmm?”

“What did they do to you?”

Ben’s body tenses. “It doesn’t matter now.”

"Please tell me.”

“Why?”

“Because you were there for forty years and I-“

“It doesn’t fucking matter. Just drop it.” Ben snaps, eyes blazing green.

You wait for a beat, watching the blaze of his eyes turn down to a simmer. “It’s okay to admit that the last forty years haven’t been easy. I won’t judge you for that or think less of you Ben. And if we’re going to do this, be in a relationship, you’re going to need to share things with me. It can’t be one sided-“

“It’s not going to be one sided, I just don’t want to talk about that.”

“Okay.” You sigh, settling back down next to him. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. You knew that Ben kept his cards close to his chest, but you wanted him to be open with you about things like that.

The silence grows between you filled with unspoken things.

“They wanted to see if I could die, if they could make me fucking normal again.” Ben mutters into the top of your head. And then he tells you, tells you what happened that day in Nicaragua, tells you about the testing, about the nuclear bomb they put into his chest, about every single thing they did to him over the past forty years. With each revelation of the last forty years your arms tighten around his body in a hug, holding him to you while his words make anger surge in your chest like an uncontrollable fire.

How could they do that to him? How could they hurt him like that? And Payback? They were our teammates. How could they turn their back on Ben like that? Give him up so easily and not for any kind of money?

You think about what Countess confessed to you, when she said that she purposely drove you two apart.

They were right to. If they had tried any of that with me there, I would have ripped them all apart if they tried to take Ben away.

Your fingers fall into Ben’s hair, gently dragging back and forth at the base of his skull while he continues, trying to bring him some comfort.

“Ben I’m so sorry.” You say when he finishes.

“It’s okay-“

“It’s not. Nothing they did to you is okay.”

“I deserved it.”

His words make an ice cold chill travel down your spine. It was the second time that he had said something like that tonight.

“Ben.”

You lean back from him to look him in the eye, but he won’t meet your gaze. Your hands cup his cheeks, his scruff prickling against your palms as you bring his attention to you. He looks lost and it scares you. Ben never did that. He was always together, it was you that usually had that haunting look in your eyes, but you could see what they did to him reflected in the familiar green. He looked worn.

“You didn’t deserve what they did to you. No one deserves that. And yeah maybe you said some shit you shouldn’t have and maybe you did something bad, but I never want to hear you say that again. Do you understand me? Never say that again. You didn’t deserve that. And I promise you that you’re never going back. I will not let them take you again.”

Ben nods once and your hands slip from his cheeks to go around his neck once more to pull him into a tight hug.

“I didn’t mean to hurt those people.” He mutters into the top of your head remembering what happened in Mid-town.

You had heard about it through Rosemary, who had several patients who had been hurt in the explosion, not to mention every news station seemed to have it on 24/7.

“I know. It’s okay. You just lost control. It happens to all of us.” You think about killing Countess. “It doesn’t make you a bad guy.”

“Hmm.”

It was weird for Ben to allow this, to allow you to hold him, but somewhere deep down you wondered if he always wanted you to, but he just never said and didn’t want to admit it out loud.

Weirder still was that he was holding you to him too, curling his arms around you and pulling you into his chest like you belonged there. And despite everything that happened, despite how angry you wanted to be, being here with him felt like you were coming home.

“You should sleep.” He whispers after a little while, as his hand trails down your spine, moving up and down in a soothing motion.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“If you want me to be.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I always want you here.” You breathe into his skin. “I lied when I said I never wanted to see you again.”

“Then I will be.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you cuddle further into him, tightening your arms were they wrap around his neck to pull him into you.

And you hope that one day it won't hurt, that one day you won't hear the words he yelled at you, and that one day you can believe and trust him again like you did.

******************************************************

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

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[beansricejc]

THE CLIENT - John Wick x F!Reader

my masterlist.

synopsis: you go to some extreme measures to make sure you get your rent paid on time.

⚠️ warnings ⚠️: DUB/NON con, s3x work, cursing, sugar daddycore, implied violence, brief descriptions of violence, misleading job descriptions, good & bad name calling, chasing, financial / emotional manipulation, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! MINORS DNI! 4379 words.

author’s note: I am so sorry about not being active, I’ve been meaning to take this off of the back burner for some time now. If you follow me you probably have noticed that this is based off of a short blurb I uploaded a few months ago. I’ve been avoiding writing because of several anon hate messages I’ve gotten about Fake It, and it put a huge damper on my writing process. but I’m back and I hope you all enjoy!

This economy is shit.

That's the sentence you continue to repeat in your brain. Should you have to work more than your full time accounting job at that stupidly high skyscraper downtown? Absolutely not, but your rent was bumped up by 15%, and a mere 40 hour work week won’t cut it anymore.

“Can you work nights?” The temp agent asks from across his desk. The florescent lights of his office (that is desperately in need of an update) are giving you a headache. The pot of coffee on the table in the corner is starting to burn.

“Yeah. Anytime after 6.” You quickly answer, your leg that’s crossed on top of the other is bouncing. The worker nods his head and clacks his vintage looking keyboard in front of his computer monitor.

The thick silence in this small space might kill you.

The worker’s eyes squint at his screen, before they trail back to you, seeming to give your face and your body a look over.

“Do you have any experience with housekeeping?” The worker asks, which makes your head tilt. Your printed and slightly crumpled resume is right there in front of him. Idiot.

“I mean, not houses, but when I worked retail I would have to clean the store from time to time.” You tell him and raise your eyebrows.

He nods and continues to stare at you. Creep.

“There’s an opening for a private housekeeper gig a bit north. You wouldn’t be tied to an agency, the client would pay you directly.” The man informs you. “Can, can I just do one thing first? Usually our employers, uh, they typically request pictures of their applicants.” The temp agent stammers and grabs his smartphone from his desk drawer. “Let me just…”

You don’t have any time to decline, since the flash is already going off in your direction.

“Uh- I’ve never heard of anything like that.” you question while the man types on his phone.

“Have you been employed through a temp agency before?”

“Well, not exact-“

“Then clearly you’re unfamiliar with how this works.” He interjects before setting the device down. “The pay is very good, although the employer hasn’t told me specifics. 3 nights a week after 6:30. 3 to 4 hour shifts. Does that work?” the worker asks and pushes up his glasses.

You feel a bit dumbfounded, and you have a strange suspicion that this man is gaslighting the hell out of you. But what can you do? You’re about to be 3 weeks late on rent.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You mumble out.

It wasn’t fine. You hate the fact that instead of being able to snuggle up with your dog and watch reruns of New Girl, you have to pick up a second job.

“Great. I’ll have him give you a call.” was the last thing the man told you before you left the building. Secretly, you hope whoever this ‘employer’ is, they just forget about contacting you.

Hours later, you’re putting groceries into your fridge when your phone starts to vibrate in your pocket. You answer of course.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this, uh…” a deep male voice on the other line asks, accidentally mispronouncing your first name. Chuckling, you quickly correct him. “My mistake, forgive me. Ah, I heard you’re looking for a job?”

Your eyes bulge and you suddenly straighten up as if the man is having a face to face conversation with you. There was no way he was already calling you! Totally unprepared, you cleared your dry throat.

“Yeah, yep, that’s me.” you answer his question. His voice is so sultry. The man is clearly older than you, and it’s clear that he thinks before he speaks.

“Perfect. Pay is 1200 an hour, and if you swing by around 6:45 tomorrow that would be great. Can I email you my address?” The man offers online. You frown and choke on the water you were sipping.

“Woah, woah, excuse me. You said… 1200 an hour?” You repeat his payment offer.

“Yeah, is that a problem? All in cash.”

You almost have a heart attack.

“Nope, nope no problem at all.”

“Excellent. And, by the way, wear something, comfortable.” He says over the phone. You frown.

“Comfortable?” You question.

“Yeah. Comfortable.” He replies.

In hindsight you should have thought this through. You should have seen this coming, since men are disappointing and so vile. And you even know that you’re an idiot for agreeing.

So you do, and end the call.

6:45 comes faster than you thought it would. Your finger presses the door bell, and as you look around the neighborhood he’s in, the only thing you can think of? This dude is in a completely different tax bracket than you.

As for the comfortable clothing, you opted for some leggings and a long sleeve tee shirt that accidentally accentuates your waist and chest. You didn’t think anything of it. Did you think $1200 an hour was a bit off? Totally. But the guy was probably desperate for someone to clean this enormous house up.

You’re completely wrong.

The large door creaks open, and you come to face a man, middle aged, with long dark hair that seems to be tied in the back. A man bun? Really. You don’t say anything about it. Instead you smile and give the classic:

“Hi! You had a cleaning scheduled for 6:45?”

The words are bubbly and of course higher pitched. Like any customer service job, you’ve trained yourself to fake a smile and a friendly voice.

His rugged features surprise you. The way his jaw clenched and unclenched, his dark beard that grows on his face. The way his thin brown eyes trace over your body as he pressed his lips together. As if you were on display, only for him.

You couldn’t deny that he was handsome. But you’re not here for that. You’re here to work.

Are you?

“Yeah, you’ll do.” The man nods and allows you to enter his domain.

What the fuck did that mean? You don’t allow him to see the way your eyebrows scrunch up at his remark.

His house that reeks of modern contemporary architecture, the bachelor pad vibes were insane in this place. Regardless, the home seemed almost empty, even though it wasn’t. The vast size of it makes it so every little noise is able to bounce off the walls.

“Do you want something to drink?” Your new boss asks. He looks down at you with little to no expression on his handsome features. Despite the lack of emotion, a tinge of determination lingers in his narrowed brown eyes. “Call me John, by the way. Mister Wick will make me feel like a senior citizen.”

You just laugh. He already knows your name. Of course he does, why didn’t you expect otherwise? That temp agency definitely gave it to him.

“John it is.” You test out the name on your tongue; the simplicity of it is so right for him.

But something doesn’t sit right with you. It’s as if your body is subconsciously ringing all of the woman alarms that you should listen to.

Oh but you could use the cash! It’s the uneasy pit in your gut that churns and twists, attempting to pry yourself out of the situation.

Of course you ignore it.

“Right. So. There’s this particular spot I need help cleaning.” John’s hand guided you by the small of your back, you didn’t even notice how close he was standing to you. As if John were nothing but a ghost in the wind.

He leads you right in the living room, where a large crimson stain has set itself into the oak flooring. Your eyes widen, instinctively backing away, forgetting that John was directly behind you. Your shorter body runs into his, and he sets his strong hands on your shoulders.

Oh my god. A serial killer hired you. Or at least a murderer. The sheer size of the blood stain definitely was a fatal amount to lose. It’s as if someone had taken a liter of blood and dumped it onto his expensive flooring.

“I’m sure you can understand why this is such a lucrative deal, right?” John’s voice rumbled into your right ear. Chills trickle down your spine, caused simply from his touch and his murmur. But this is bad. You need to leave. You can’t just clean up murder messes for a living!

“I, I don’t know if I can-“

“Oh I know you can. Say, are you a good multi-tasker?” John asked, his grip on your shoulders becoming a bit tighter. It feels possessive almost. You should have listened to your woman warnings your body gave you.

Your canine teeth dig into your soft tongue.

“I mean, yeah.” You squeak out to answer the man who’s paying you. A throaty laugh leaves his mouth.

“Oh, good to hear.”

The scent of his cologne enters your nose. Tobacco, ginger, cocoa even. It’s intoxicating, the way his smell lingers in the air; and how it’ll imprint itself onto your own clothes and skin. You can’t let this man’s Dior Sauvage distract you from getting the fuck out of this house.

“Listen, I don’t-“

“2156, 45rd Avenue. Apartment 5. Right?” John suddenly asks. Those chills that ran down your spine seem to be more sinister than you initially realized. You turn around and glare up at him.

“How do you know that?” You immediately question him with a brash voice.

John lets out a deep chuckle, his handsome smile is so stupid. You don’t want to be attracted to him.

“You should take the job. I could buy your building, your rent could go down significantly.” John smirked down at your trembling form. “But, I’ll need you to be good at more than just cleaning.” His voice grumbles into your ear. His hot breath sticks to your neck. His voice is deep and almost off putting, in a good way. God the way he speaks. The way he looks you over with those pretty brown eyes.

Your mouth lets out a gasp as you suddenly feel his large hand reach around and grab one of your breasts. His unwanted touch feels like fire against your clothing. Your body tries to squirm.

“Shh, dear, let me touch you. I like it more if there’s less of a reaction.” John whispered, you feel his erection grow as he presses his groin into your ass.

“Woah, WOAH!” You yell, shoving him away. Surprisingly he backs away, with his hands in the air. There’s a smirk that plays on his rugged face, as he bites his tongue and lets his eyes devour your body.

“Really? You want to refuse me? Do you know who I am, little girl?” John chuckled, taking a few steps forward.

“You know what? I think I’m good on the job, you’re a fucking weirdo.” Is all you have to say to that. His rugged face has the meanest scowl you have ever seen in your life.

The tension in the air is so uncomfortable, and you want to punch yourself for not listening to your gut. The churning. The accelerated heart rate.

This was all wrong, that creepy temp agent had set you up with some gig that was clearly not legitimate in the slightest, of course it was too good to be true. Men only want one thing, and you don’t know how you didn’t manage to connect the dots.

You grimace at the thought of what he just did to you as your legs sprint towards the door.

“Not so fast, little one.” John growls, it seems he’s got you pinned against his entryway door. Your face is pressed against the wood, and you cry out in pain from the abrupt slam of your body.

“What if I bought your apartment building, and raised your rent? That’s why you have this job, right? That’s why a pretty thing like you waltzed into that temp agency and expected some help. God, I’m glad that agent sent me a picture. Do you know how much I came looking at your confused face?” John huffs out, biting his lip and moaning at the thought. His brown eyes roll to the back of his head for a split second as he recalls the orgasm he had, just thinking about you.

When he was hunched over in his shower, canines digging cuts into his bottom lip and drawing blood as John fucked into his balled up fist. When he whimpered your name like a pathetic needy bitch, the noise bouncing off of the bathroom walls to remind him of what a sick piece of shit he is. The mere idea of him taking advantage of a woman in a predicament like this made his balls ache in excitement. His toes would curl on the wet bathtub floor just imagining you being his good little fuck toy.

The ragged tone in his breath and voice make John sound desperate, deprived even.

“God I want you to swallow my cum so bad, I bet you’d look like a good girl, taking me in your mouth, huh? You wanna swallow daddy’s load?”

You elbow him right in the chest, but fall to the wooden floor while you do so. Too bad you’ve always been a clumsy bitch.

You groan as the pain shoots up your spine. And you panic. This absolute dilf of a man was a freak! And by the looks of all of that blood on his floor, a monster. A serial killer maybe! What the fuck was the point of listening to all of those podcasts if you didn’t take the god damn hints John had shown several times?!

John doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist, lifting you up as you kick, scream, struggle, he even gives your left asscheek a swift smack just for fun. You let out a yelp.

“Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go into the other room, and I’m going to buy your building. All I have to do is make a call. And you, cutie, get to make a decision.” John chuckled. “You leave, and I’ll have a group of men take out all of your shit from your place; and replace your doorknobs. Or,” John grabs your waist, your hand swats him away as you give him a glare. John sighs and gives you a smile, ruffling your hair with his large hand. “Or you let me have my way with you; while you clean up my little mess. And you won’t have to worry about paying a thing ever again.” John whispers. The man takes a step back, biting his lip at the sight of you being scared of him, before leaving and going into the other room.

You groan, tears brim your eyes as you contemplate your choices. Seeing the vast wealth displayed by just his household furnishings, you figured he wasn’t bluffing. The sting from holding back the cry hurts like a bitch, realizing you have no choice in the matter.

“God dammit.” You mumble, grabbing the cleaning supplies. You can’t help but wonder how the hell this much blood got on this asshole’s floor anyhow. Maybe you didn’t want to know. Either way, baking soda would do the trick here; with some water and dishwasher fluid.

So you get to work, scrubbing and finishing away the blood stain from the wooden floor. It wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded.

Your stomach churned as you hear him approaching, his Oxford shoes clicking on the ground.

“Oh, good girl.” John snickered from above, you looked up at him with an icy stare, only to see something you certainly didn’t expect.

John and his hand, expertly stroking his hard cock to the sight of you cleaning.

John’s a good size. Bigger than average. Not something straight out of some unrealistic porn video online. The 7 inch long and slightly girthy dick in his grasp twitched, while it dripped precum from the pink shaded tip.

You start to feel something stir in you. This is wrong. You know it’s wrong. But fuck. His lip bite, the way he stroked himself to the sight of you, it’s not like he was ugly or anything. Quite the opposite.

He’s everything every woman dreams about in a man. Dark, brooding, with chiselled features and a symmetrical face. His olive skinned forehead is slick with sweat, definitely from being all hot and bothered at the sight of lil’ ol’ you.

Realistically, there could be worse out there to have fuck you.

“No no, little one. Keep cleaning,” John takes in a sharp breath. “Don’t mind me. Just pretend that this is normal, don’t be distracted. This will be your new normal. You’ll do various tasks around my house, and you let me touch you however I want.”

Now despite what your brain is telling you, the churning in your stomach drifts into butterflies. This isn’t right. In fact, it’s fucking vile. But why is your breath caught in your throat? Why does your head feel like it’s spinning?

You’re too much in your head at the moment, and you don’t notice the sound of a switchblade opening. With one quick motion, you can feel your leggings slice open. Before you have time to gasp, next comes your thong, he’s cutting the fabric and peeling it from your body.

John pressed the soaked cloth to his large nose, taking in a deep breath to get a whiff of your essence. Chills run down his spine as he grows even harder, your pure femininity smells absolutely divine to him.

“Oh you’re so wet for me, you like this, don’t you? You bad fucking girl,” he laughs. Your yelp escaped your dry lips as one of his long fingers swiped your moist entrance, pushing one in to test the waters. Your soft grunt of surprise and disdain covers your pleasure as you continue to try to clean up this stupid blood stain on the wooden floor.

You have to wonder, what the fuck happened here? Your mind goes haywire, imagining the man behind you potentially taking a life in the very spot that you’re in. How did he do it? A gunshot wound? Cutting someone’s throat? Torture? Tying them up by their feet to hang upside down, only to stab their jugular and letting gravity do its job? And why exactly are you thinking of it while John adds another finger, pumping the long calloused digits into your soaking cunt.

You catch yourself backing up against him, moaning a bit as you bite your lip to punish yourself for it. You’re not supposed to like this! What the fuck are you doing?

A suit jacket is tossed aside out of the corner of your eye, as a deep throaty chuckle echoes from the walls of his large house.

“Oh? So I’m right. You do like it.” John chuckles, pulling his fingers out. You let out a whine, almost angry that he would stop fingering you all of a sudden. John slaps your folds with the tip of his cock just for fun.

Your whine is replaced with a sharp squeal, his large hands grip the roots of your messy hair, pulling your head back as his fat tip eases into your pussy. The burn of your head and the burn of his dick throws you in a loop, especially at the sight of John.

John. This perverted, sick and despicable example of a human being, who’s eyes look so soft as he inches in and out of you. There’s a wicked smirk on his face when your eyes shoot to his lips, nothing that the cut up remains of your thong are in his mouth.

And you’re not sure if it’s hot or nasty. The obscene view of him damn near chewing on your underwear has you… well, fucked up. But it’s the way he begins to snap his hips against your ass that makes you forget about it. The other hand whacks your right asscheek, earning another yelp from you.

“You’re a fucking pig!” you sputter out, trying your best to show absolutely revulsion to the way he’s fucking you.

John can see through you like a piece of cling wrap.

You’re not making any progress in cleaning the blood stain, as he thrusts harder into you. You mew loudly while he takes his hand in your hair and instead presses your pretty little face into the floor. Your cheeks and nose throb as scratches embed themselves into your skin, as if you hardly notice. The way John’s cock feels as he has his way with your fluttering cunt is too good to even put into words. You have to remind yourself to breathe while he speaks to you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, princess. I didn’t take you for a good little slut, who’s my slut?”

Gritting your teeth, his tip brushed your cervix, and that will certainly give you an aching feeling tomorrow. You don’t want to admit anything to this monster. But his fist tightens at the roots of your hair, sending pain down your scalp right as his other hand reaches your clit and draws quick circles on it.

“I asked you something, sweetheart. Now fucking answer me.”

“I’m your slut! I’m your slut!” You repeat out, shame fills your belly as you give in to John’s desires, and he giggles in return.

“What an obedient girl you are.” John praises, his thrusts become slower, more passionate even, as if he’s rewarding you for answering him. Somehow, the slower and more sensual movement of his dick feels even better, especially with John incorporating those finger movements on your clit.

“Stop fuckin’ cleanin’, you’re doing a shit job anyway.” John grunts, swatting the brush out of your tiny hands and flipping your body over like a ragdoll. I mean, he’s not wrong, he just doesn’t have to be a dick about it.

“You think you can take me? You’ve been doin’ a good job so far. Better than cleaning, you got a talent for letting me fuck you like this.” John’s words are almost garbled and incoherent but you’re too afraid to shake your head. Before you can even respond, he shoves your cut up panties into your mouth, covering your lips with those calloused large hands, much to your dismay.

You muffle loudly, an attempted “What the fuck?!”, but he only snickered before pumping his cock back into your cunt, lifting your legs so your ankles could have resembled earmuffs on him. Your eyes roll back. He’s so fucking deep, John’s hand moved from your mouth to your throat, restricting your oxygen intake by squeezing as he fucks into you. Using you as his little play thing. Your sticky sweat coated flesh smacks against another, sending the sound throughout the house, along with your softened moans and whimpers.

“Your cunt belongs to me. Got it, bitch?” John asks, these things he is saying to you are fucking terrible, but you can’t help but be excited when they come out. You nod and bite down on what used to be your thong as he continued to rub your wet nub and fuck you hard. Your sharp fingernails dub themselves into his bare thighs, which will definitely leave marks later.

John hisses, but continues plowing into you nonetheless.

“Cum for me. Do it before I change my mind.” John ordered. Say less.

He didn’t have to ask you twice. While your eyes cross, your pussy pulses around his dick, as you become undone under him. Your walls flutter and you whimper loudly, your climax unraveling and finally giving you that oh so satisfying release. John grunts over you.

“That’s it, cum for me, who’s making you cum?” He asks.

“You are! Shit- you are, John,” you mumble into your underwear as your cock drunk state leaves you unable to adjust your body.

John laughs at your undoing, pulling your thong out of your teeth and slipping out of your cunt. It doesn’t take long for him to use his immense strength to lift you up onto your knees, as he gives his slick cock a few jerks with his hand.

“Open.”

In a state of euphoria, you don’t question the man who just gave you a mind blowing orgasm. Your lips part, and he bites his lip as the tip of his dick reached the back of your throat. Your eyes widen as he moans, fingers gripping into your hair once more as he fucks into your mouth a bit more. It doesn’t take long before he climaxed, spurts of cum that you’re forced to take and swallow, like the naive little thing you are.

The things a girl will do to make sure rent is paid in full.

The next few days are certainly something. There are scratches on your face and some light bruising here and there on your body from your, ahem, shift, with John the other night. A male coworker even asked if you had a sprained ankle or something from the way you were walking into the office the next morning.

How embarrassing.

And now you find yourself, checking your mail and getting your rent bill in for the upcoming month. You roll your eyes, tearing the envelope open as your little dog jumps up on your leg, excited that you have arrived home. You aimlessly scratch his head, setting the invoice on your kitchen counter before feeding your pet a scoop of food, and grabbing the checkbook.

It’s almost like it slipped your mind that John had actually acquired your apartment building.

John does many things, but he doesn’t bluff.

Your eyes scan the piece of paper as it hits you like a brick.

Thank you for your business. Please send your payment of: $0.00 by March 1st, 2024.

What the fuck?

The stack of a few thousand dollars stares at you from your desk, and you swallow the lump in your throat. Your mouth dries up when the words in scribbled writing at the bottom read:

See you next week, pretty girl.

xoxo, J.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Odd question but - I'm looking to study in the UK this fall, and I'm trying to get to grips with the grading system. Could you explain the grading boundaries to me please? It's different from the US, as far as I can see!

I found this handy table which you might find useful - I don't really understand the US system either lol.

Here's what I will say though - I have many times before seen Americans online seeing the percentages for the UK grade boundaries and immediately wax lyrical about how EASY and SIMPLE it must be to do well in the UK because OH MY GOD I could tooootally get 70%!!! In the US that's barely a C!!! Wow education must be soooo simple in the UK -

And uh. I have seen very few Americans in those discussions stop and ask themselves how much harder it might be to hit 70% in the UK. Which, as the international academic office in every university will tell you, is the crucial question you absolutely should be asking. Does an American 70% look the same as a UK 70%?

(It Does Not.)

So don't be fooled by that! Over here, at undergrad the pass mark is 40%. 40-49% gets you a third; 50-59% gets you what's varyingly known as a lower second (formally), a 2:2 (most commonly), or a Desmond (by sad people. It's a reference to Desmond Tutu - two two). A 2:2 is also the most commonly awarded degree classification over here.

60-69% is a 2:1, or upper second class honours. And then the top level is the first - 70% and up. The vast majority of firsts are earned by students who got 70-79%. Exceptional work pushes into the 80s. It is incredibly rare that you ever see a mark in the 90s, and when you do, it's almost always on maths papers where there are right or wrong answers and that's it.

I can't remember how the US's summa cum laude etc stuff maps onto that, though you could probably find that on Google as well. But as a rule of thumb, think first = excellent, 2:1 = good, 2:2 = fair, and third = you need to be careful and see what you can do to improve (although that is still a pass at university and that is not to be sniffed at).

Ooh, as a final point, though, there's also how assessment works, which again, I know is very different over here (again I don't really understand it in the US). Your lecturer cannot set random work here and there to count as summative assessment. Every module is different in how it's set up, but let's give an example:

Module: Coastal and Marine Conservation Two assessments, each worth 50% of the final grade. Assessment 1: A report on the biodiversity of Ramsey Island in the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park. Explore the cause of the lower biodiversity there than nearby Skomer/Skokholm; how was this challenged/rectified? How have species recovered since? What should be done into the future? Assessment 2: A two-hour closed book exam. Half of this exam (50 marks) will be a mix of short and medium length questions; things like "Define these five terms (two marks each)", or "Describe the process of longshore drift and its impact on sedimentation patterns (15 marks)" or what have you. The second half is a 50 mark essay - pick one of three essay questions offered, and off you go. (Essay questions are a staple feature of exams over here, and multiple choice questions are extremely rare and generally frowned on as being Not Sufficiently Academic.)

Now, in the case of this module, these are the only two assessment points. Both the report brief and the exam paper are registered with the academic office in the summer before the academic year even starts, and both are triple verified - by the lecturer who writes/sets them, by an internal verifier in the department, and an external verifier from another university. This is part of quality control.

If, for some reason, you fail one of these, or cannot submit them by their due date, or what have you, you still have to do them. If you claim for Extenuating Circumstances (e.g. "I was made homeless and my cat blew up, so I couldn't do it in time") then you get an extension on it; as long as you submit by the end of the academic period, you're fine. If you don't, you need to resit it. This normally means over the summer after the main term ends.

But, in the UK system what we can't do is go "Okay never mind, how about you submit a write-up of the volunteering you're currently doing with SeaLife instead and we'll count that?" The reason being, under the UK system that is not a quality-controlled solution. That has not been checked and verified as an equivalent assessment to what the rest of the class has done; so if you do that and get a 2:1, there is no assurance that you are actually of the same academic quality as one of your peers who got a 2:1 for that research report on Ramsey's biodiversity.

Which... don't let it scare you! As I say, there are a LOT of systems that can help you if things start going wrong (always, always, always keep Student Support and your lecturers in the loop). But that is a different system from what I understand you might be used to, so heads up on that.

(I am not arguing that one is better than the other, by the way. Last time I explained a difference in the UK university system I got a very hostile and aggressive American in the notes throwing a right strop over how terrible the UK system clearly is because XYZ, right up until I had to actually say "I am literally just describing how it's different, not claiming superiority," and then they went mysteriously quiet and stopped replying. So to forestall that, I am only describing the differences. There are advantages and disadvantages to each.

The UK system is certainly more inflexible. But it does, incidentally, at least free you from the tyranny I see reported so often by US students of the dreaded Tenured Professor who deliberately as a matter of pride sets impossible exams that everyone fails. Over here, that shit Does Not Fly. So there's that.)

Anyway - hopefully that answers your question! Any others, hit me up. Good luck, and enjoy your studies!

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>8<

True, he drank a little. True, he might look slightly wasted ... but he could see her angry face very clearly. It didn't cross his throat in their company that he was just ashamed to tell her, just as he stubbornly escaped from showing Kizaki's school report. He figured she wouldn't be pleased. As soon as she broke into his deputy's office, he finished his bourbon in a glass of ice and sat more comfortably on the couch, listening to the conversation. At the same time he wondered how to reward her concealment.

- Hanabi-sama is totally different than our Boss! - Ueda laughed. - Pushes on everyone and everything.

- The exams are coming up, it's normal for her. She always reacted that way. - Haga replied with a shrug. - She gets mad, throws "fuck", "crap", "bitch" or the like, right and left ... Such a type.

- How do you know each other? - Tanaka demanded.

- We went to the same school. She is a year younger, but the teachers forced her to teach me anyway. - He explained, running a hand through his jet-black hair. - Otherwise, I would not have passed lower high school! Thanks to this, I found out that she is terribly tidy and knowledgeable, especially in science. Honestly, until then I thought she was a nerd, won every math Olympiad she appeared at... but it turned out that the truth was different.

- What?- they heard a resonant voice.

He looked up above their heads. Was it so fast? She was talking about five hours! He looked sluggishly at the clock on the wall. No way! It's been 4.5. He watched her. He noticed black leather shorts tightening around her massive buttock, and a loose T-shirt with a knot near the zipper. She settled in surprisingly quickly, which shouldn't be weird. They allowed her to browse one of the most secret areas of the building. Only the contents of his fundoshi were more secret, which she already knew. She walked over to the bar counter, and it crossed his mind that he had never seen her drink alcohol. However, she needed to know something about it, because she quickly took out two specific bottles that he didn't know existed in his house.

- I mentioned the times when you helped me with my studies. - Haga replied.

- Well ... let's see if you remember anything. - she murmured, setting the glass on the table. - Pour 1.5 scoops of 40% vodka and 3/4 scoops of 40% coffee liqueur into a glass with ice.

- Ok.

- Focus, two-part question. How many percent is the resulting drink? After how many of these glasses will I drink dead, assuming I'm a statistical Asian with statistical tolerance to alcohol? - she asked, gently stirring the resulting liquid.

He wondered involuntarily. He must have drunk too much to know the answer. It took the friend a moment too, but finally he spoke with surprising enthusiasm.

- For 100ml it is 40%, so this glass is also 40%. And you would have to drink ten ...?

- Bingo! Bonus question for which you can drink. What is it?

- Black Russian... and thank you, I don't mix alcohol.

- Your loss ... - she laughed, hopping on the counter and sitting on it. - ... But I admit, quite the right approach.

She took a sip. No reaction, as if she mixed water with cola. Apparently even she hadn't digest it soberly.

- Hanabi-sama, this is your learning method? - Kizaki asked.

- Yes. I don't see the point in learning something that won't come in handy in life. I prefer to translate theories in a practical way. - she replied, taking the glass in both hands. - I'll do my best, just give us as much free time as possible, Kizaki-san.

- I have a bad feeling about this. - Hanayama muttered, sipping his bourbon.

In one gulp, she emptied the glass, put it on the table top, then jumped off it briskly and before he realized it, she sat on his lap. Perhaps for the first time he felt the warm perfume rising from her neck.

- More faith, Kaoru. - She smiled and kissed the scarred cheek. - When I'm done with you, you'll belch with the multiplication table, puke arithmetic, and shit trigonometry.

It sounded scary, and she kept her expression soft. He wondered for a long time what attracted him. He didn't have to anymore.

He woke up as if he hadn't slept at all, strangely enough, in his own bed. Expected that he fell asleep as sat on the leather couch in the living room. He rubbed face with his hand as sat on the mattress. Found his glasses and put them on the nose. Had just noticed her. She was sitting at his desk, in his chair, facing him, braiding her legs tucked in high-heeled shoes, translucent stockings fastened with buckles to strips of shiny material disappearing under a tight skirt, into which she pressed a bright shirt buttoned up to the neck. Looking at him, she slightly slipped the frames of her nerds - glasses. He knew with certainty that she had no vision defect.

- Did you sleep well? - she asked sweetly.

- So so... - he muttered.

- No more drinking for a while. It's time to catch up on a few topics. - she ordered, rising from chair, and he could have sworn he saw a piece of juicy red lingerie under her skirt. - Meanwhile, I invite you to breakfast.

She outdid herself. There was a mountain of plump pancakes on the table with a variety of toppings, from fruit to peanut butter, bean paste to maple syrup. He sat down next to her speechless, then began to eat. It's hard to talk about biting into a dish. It was so light and fluffy that it melted in your mouth instantly. He admitted it with difficulty, but even his mother couldn't do THIS. He sipped the green tea standing near his plate.

- No need, really... - he muttered, not looking at her. - That's what I got Kizaki for.

- Kizaki-san won't stand by you forever. We live in a world like this and not another, Kaoru. Death is the only certainty, the question remains how fast. - she announced firmly. - If he runs out, you WILL HAVE to fend for yourself.

- There will always be a way.

- Specially for you, I organized a three-week off from school. - she added, and he felt a note of impatience in her voice.

- It won't be wasted... - he said, placing his hand on her side and pressing lightly.

- You're making me use an argument I didn't want to make. - she grunted, turning to face him. - If you do not have enough courage to accept the offered help, my leg never set more here.

She surprised him. He looked at her wide-eyed, trying to figure out if it was true or a dirty trick. She kept a poker face. He decided to play a trick.

- Won't you miss me?

- Very. - she whispered at once. - More than you think.

He thought. She hit the nail on the head. This time he lacked the courage. He preferred to get things done on his own, and in this case, he would have liked to leave everything as it was. But she was right. Death was the surest thing in life, and the environment in which they rotated made it look closer to them than to others.

- Let it be ... I agree. - he sighed heavily.

Hanabi's methods seemed to work, though he wasn't sure how she did it. She immediately rejected the typical method for schools, as she puts it, "patting knowledge memory". For her, understanding was much more important, and whether he recited a formula from a textbook or said otherwise did not matter completely. What mattered was the sense of speech and the ability to apply. It turned out that he was quite teachable, and the alluring teacher did not spare him praise, especially at the end of the day. This was the part he liked best. She sat on the edge of the desk, wearing a different outfit every day, and after a few attempts he learned that there was something interesting underneath as well. It excited him. His brain had never been working at such dizzying speeds, not even on that night, when he decided from midnight to sit on a mountain of homework for the next day, and Kizaki cheered and supported him with all his might. Adrenaline was buzzing through his veins. Enough to gave the correct answer, or solve a number of tasks in mathematics, and took off one item of clothing. She did it with such solemnity that when he saw her in only underwear, this time in a delightfully blue one, composed of lace and several stripes, and a silver chain falling from neck to hips, he was almost sure he will not stand, and cums in his pants. She was left in spider-thin panties and fancy trinkets when she turned his chair over, beckoning him with her index finger, taking off her nerds-glasses. He tore off his shirt and pants with one stroke and put his glasses on the desk. Pulled her close and threw on the bed, covering her with his body. She surrendered to his kisses, he could feel goose bumps growing under his fingers, she did not resist the eagerly groping hands, but when he pulled the last piece of clothing off her, finally wanting to fulfill his desires, she stopped him by placing a shapely bare foot on his torso. He stopped in one second.

- Additional question, subject: biology. - she announced, assuming a professional face. - Is there a risk of conception ONLY during ejaculation?

- No. - he replied soberly.

- Then please respect my reluctance to get pregnant at this point. - she muttered like a kitten, puffing her lips and holding out a small bundle in his direction.

He respected not to wait any longer and out of the respect he had for her. Just overwhelmed by emotions, he didn't think. Somewhere deep down he said that if they had fallen in, he wouldn't have taken offense at all. He loved the inside of her body. It was warm, soft, pleasant, as if prepared especially for him. Not for a man at all. FOR HIM. He felt every unevenness, every twitch as he waited for this wonderfully entwining string of pleasure. The first time she showed up in his hotel room to kill him, he knew her pleasure might be his pleasure. The better it got, the more, consciously or not, she tightened her grip on the tense nature. Each time he discovered new spheres of ecstasy. This time they didn't last long. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He felt an astonishingly strong crush combined with a spasmodic, very melodic groan and incredibly exciting expression on her lovely face, which made him come swiftly and very intensely. He snuggled into her, trying to catch breath. She wrapped her arms gently around him, wet with exertion. He could think ahead and open the window.

- Tutoring with Haga looked similar? - he muttered in her ear.

- Of course not! - she laughed, throwing a pillow at him. - I had other methods for him ... my bear.

>>><<<

As they say, the right way is enough, and the way is for everyone. What pained her in education was that everything was based on brainless repetition and test-forging. She wanted to know something and saw that this approach works. Kaoru seemed to be edified as well, getting up in the morning clearly more joyful, not in the gallows mood as on the first day. Then it might have been a hangover, if not Hanayama didn't have a hangover. They were doing exceptionally well that day. Kaoru dug out a different one from the crowd of purple shirts, navy blue with bright patterns resembling embroidered flowers. He surprised her with more than that when the deputy boss entered the room.

- Sorry to bother you. I promised to give you the maximum amount of free time, but there are things I won't skip. - Kizaki announced. - You must show up at the club tonight, boss. Yajima stands up again.

- He's so confident this time he demands a show fight? - Hanayama muttered.

- Apparently, he has a business, he wants to push it through very strongly. I do not exclude duel. - the adviser explained. - As far as I know, he convened a slightly larger group.

Something told her that surname, was not exactly sure what. She must have heard this man was holding some of the biggest banks by the balls. Maybe that's why the Yakuza's income was the way it was. Someone was turning the tap on. It wasn't... it wasn't why she knew it. She thought. Pacification of the problem element could have a twofold effect. She wasn't going to interfere, especially if he didn't approve, but she liked having a plan up her sleeve. But it was hard to plan with such rudimentary information. On the one hand, he could get scared and withdraw, on the other hand, he could blackmail him with a worsening of the situation. And this "larger group" ...

- They will try to maneuver. - Hanayama assessed soberly, then looked at her seriously. - Hanabi, come with us.

- I fully support it. - added the deputy. - Experience Hanabi-sama might be useful to us.

- Are you sure? - she was surprised.

- Absolutely! - Kizaki ruled. - I think we'll even find something suitable ...

- Don't worry, Kizaki-san. - she answered quickly, holding him back with her hand.

She used a bit of spare time to find a suitable outfit for the occasion, still wondering why the name seemed so familiar to her. In the depths of her emergency bag, she found two more items that could be useful. As a precaution, she preferred to take them, even if they were only for a moment. In the evening, she slung a small backpack over her shoulder. The practicality of the garment above all else - it was elegant, surprisingly roomy, while keeping both hands free. She left Kaoru's room while Kaoru was ready, sitting on the leather couch in his usual white suit and purple shirt. Kizaki was standing next to him. He turned towards her, straightening the dark tie on the maroon shirt. She could see the muscles around his jaw twitch to keep it from falling. She chose a black, tight, mid-thigh dress, shoulderless, but with a low turtleneck, and long boots with rather high heels. She let her hair loose to fall elegantly on her back. There was a slight ruby smile on her fair face.

- Kizaki-san, please don't forget that I'm a professional. - Muttered coming up to them.

On the way to the club, she learned that she had to carefully observe everyone and select liars. It wasn't going to be easy, she guessed, but she was still bothered by the subject of the name Hanayama had mentioned in his right hand. Eventually, she searched for anything about him on the Blacknet* and froze at the sight of the photo she found. She knew this face. She had seen her several times in her life.

- Hanabi-sama?

- Is that him? - she asked, showing them the photo, and when they nodded, she switched off the page and put the phone away. - I made a few orders for him...

- Yajima knows you?! - Kizaki scared, then dumbfounded. - Wait ... what?

- Er ... sort of. True, I always got assignments from him in person, but he never saw my face. - she muttered, pulling a white fox mask with decorative red brushes on the sides from her backpack. - He knows my capabilities, or at least part of them. So maybe it would be good if he found out that Shiro Kitsune** is working with Hanayama?

- Who ...? - said the deputy in dismay.

- You think he's gonna get scared? - Kaoru asked.

- Well... as far as I know, I have quite a good reputation in the area and Yajima has a lot of contacts. If he let the rumor that I am with you, a few things could correct themselves. - she replied with a shrug. - Of course not said it would be ... but I think it's worth a try.

She looked at Kizaki. He nodded, though he didn't really know what for. She took a tiny box from her backpack in which she hid her lenses. She put them on carefully, and her eyes turned from light green to vivid yellow, cat. Putting on the mask, she caught the boss's surprised look. The car stopped in front of the club.

- Don't look at me like that! You didn't expect me to work as a ... ME? - she laughed a pearly, then lowered her fox snout over her nose. - I wouldn't have had a life in school.

- I don't remember you having yellow eyes at the hotel back then.

- In the hotel...? - Kizaki interjected confusedly. - About what...

- Because I didn't. - she replied completely honestly. - Feel honored.

She hid all her fears deep in her pocket. She had a plan frame, but if nothing came out, she had to improvise. As usual. She felt a pleasant thrill of excitement. They arrived perfectly on time, but the condition of the people in the box meant that they must have been a little late after all. They were only waiting for them. She was going to stand behind his back like everyone else except Kizaki sitting to his right, but he had a different plan. He took advantage of the fact that he had her hands near him, took one of them and pulled it towards him so that she sat sideways in his lap. How lucky it was that the mask partially covered the cheeks. Nobody saw the luscious blush on the face. Especially since a moment later she felt warm, heavy hands on her thighs. She thought they would introduce her as a mercenary, if only for a trick, and he had confessed to her openly. Amazing, he could be sweet and mysterious at the same time. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his people kept their stone faces. Even Tanaka didn't blink, and from him she could expect the most idiotic face of this century. Well, what came out of the set was the improvisation. She caught Yajima's gaze in front of her.

- Shiro Kitsune-san... I didn't expect that we will meet again.- the man muttered.

- Each other. - she replied dryly.

- Since when do some of the best paid murderers of recent years join the yakuza? - he sneered ironically. - How much will they pay you to kill? I will give more.

- I get the impression that my career was not the subject of the meeting, is it? - she said firmly, without glare at him. - Besides, you don't have that kind of money.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Kizaki. He didn't express it in facial expressions, but she could almost hear her heart racing. He did not know. The case was closed, to her great secret approval. She listened carefully to everyone, trying to find out who was lying. It was not easy, they played their roles very well. She listened, pondered, compared ... It came to a point that she herself began to wonder if she was cheating someone, even though she did not say a word. Or maybe ... earlier? She had to figure it out. She twisted to go out for a moment and think things over in turn. How many were there? Five? Of course more, but in fact, apart from Kaoru, there were only five of them in charge. Anyone could lie, and anyone could tell the truth. She almost forgot what the topic of conversation was. As the entire triad hasn't spun the best lately, voices have arisen to restore prostitution and the sale of pornography to their territories. She remembered her father starting with that. Japan remained very conservative, treating erotic films as an additional pillar of art, and the demand was for extremely sharp and confusingly similar to the real, bed scenes. This is exactly what America delivered, so her father, sniffing around for business and willing people on the black market, did not hesitate to start contacts. As soon as he had made money, he put this part of the smuggling aside, claiming that he did not want to get his hands dirty, he had enough of it. In fact, she was also drying his head about whether he would like someone to take her to a film like this - after all, since her father trades ... In fact, she never asked what Kaoru thought about prostitution, but she hadn't noticed anything happening in his area. He might as well have dumped the case deep underground so that the police wouldn't scent him. She looked into the bathroom mirror, taking off her fox mask. She pulled out a red face marker hidden in her bra. There were a few details that Kitsune needed to minimize the risk of recognizing her in the future. She drew triangular elements by the eyes and two thicker lines on the zygomatic bones to look a bit like the animal. Was she cheating on someone? Was there such a possibility at all? She was honest with everyone, especially with her father and Kaoru. Or maybe... to herself, not? Why did it seem so real to her? She pushed the fox's face down on her nose, adjusted her clothes, tucked the marker pen deeply and left the bathroom. She still wondered who was lying. She had not managed to poke her nose out of

[electronic-elevator]

so I had a couple-hour drive today and would be arriving home to an empty house. so of course I was like. 👀 not going to NOT hold my pee

now like, I didn't think it was going to get too bad. I'd used the bathroom just before leaving, right? plan A was to play with myself until I had an accident

except. in about an hour. I was already in a bad way. I wasn't going to just waste the opportunity — after all, like I said, I'd be the only one home. If I had an actual accident in the car, well, whatever; I could clean it tomorrow. Plan B became "okay, well, it's going to be dark out either way. what if I wet myself outside? I've never done that and always wanted to." I figured I'd go up on my deck and do it there, giving me enough cover to be hidden even if a car drives by.

now, at the time, I might've called this "desperate." it was bad enough that I could roll my hips forward and feel that rush like I'd pushed down on my bladder. I pushed until I leaked, just to feel it.

luckily, I did NOT drain my water like I briefly considered, because it just got worse. I kept checking the GPS every two minutes like there was going to be some new, faster route opened up midway through. I was unable to pay nearly as much attention to Ｄistractible as they deserve.

and the thing is, though the once-fringe idea that I might have an actual accident was becoming more likely, I have literally never had a real accident. I'm plagued by an iron bladder, and somewhere between 40 and 20 minutes out, this starts turning to pain. and this is desperation -- it's not not pleasurable, because I do have a masochistic streak, but it hurts. I'm in a cold sweat. I've got a death grip on the steering wheel. I can't flirt with leaks anymore; I'm locked up tight because there's not enough of my attention to focus both on driving and relaxing. Plan C: I'll wet right outside my car. It's going to be dark, and it's unlikely that someone else is going to be around for those few minutes, and frankly? Fuck it. Who cares.

Past the 20 minute mark, I begin briefly but repeatedly considering Plan D (pulling over and wetting on the side of the road, then driving home like that). This would not be particularly safe, though, on a dark back road, and I quickly run out of back road and end up in town, where it would be perhaps indecent.

10 minutes out, I'm swearing under my breath. Genuinely, this is probably "driving impaired." I'm having genuine trouble focusing on the road. I normally would NOT do something like this, but again, I had NO IDEA I was going to get this desperate. I thought I'd arrive home with an urgent but completely manageable need, and now I'm clutching onto the handle above the door and praying for only green lights. I start to wonder if I'm going to leak, for real, which would be incredible. I can't sit still, but my squirming is super constrained because everything is locked up so tightly. I'm driving as carefully as I possibly can to avoid any startles or slowdowns caused by me being an idiot.

Then, though, I turn onto my road, and see not one, not two, but SEVERAL CARS of people. Somewhere in the recesses of my memory, the knowledge that my neighbor had a bunch of people over for the holiday when I'd left yesterday resurfaced. They were apparently still here, plus two cars at the (closed; they're security. there's usually only one, and only occasionally) business across the street. Lights on, running, clearly full of people. I cannot, or should not, wet myself in front of them.

I literally could not stand up straight. I grabbed my keys only and stumbled into the house -- and I honestly wish I could've just wet myself there, but again: things get locked up pretty tightly for me. So, ignoring the poor cats, I move as fast as I can (which is not fast) to the bathroom and stumble into the shower to finally piss. I can't turn the lights on, because the window shade is up, and so the neighbors could see in if I did.

and the PROBLEM is it didn't feel as fucking amazing as it should because I'd waited too long... but this was my first pants wetting in quite a while and I did enjoy it

Epilogue: Since the piss wasn't as satisfying, and bc I hadn't jacked it in a couple days ig, I was still horny af so (after an awkward half-clothed rinse off and actually carrying my shit inside and saying hi to the cats) I fucked myself with two (2) dildos and a vibrator until I came so much it looked like I pissed on the pad below me.

[callmearcturus]

Tips for Playing Persona 3 Portable

because i am (i think) a little over halfway thru and it's amazing, I am having a tremendously good time. here's all the stuff that made me go "well I wish i knew that from the beginning!"

this is geared towards people who haven't played a MegaTen. other folks, you know what you're doing, don't @ me.

TO PLAY:

You wanna grab the PPSSPP emulator, which is available for mobile and for PC. I need buttons to play, so I play on my Odin, but if you're the kind of person who plays Genshin on your phone, you'd probably be fine just playing it on your phone.

I'm able to upscale this to x4 resolution so it looks very nice. If you're on a super fancy phone or your PC, I bet you can push it higher if you want but I think it looks great at x4.

I'm not gonna pussyfoot around. You can find the game on a very helpful site. Rot13: ivzz.arg Great place to know.

I would have three save files. Slot One: the place you save daily or every other day, because you should do that. Slot Two: save here when the game warns you it's almost a full moon. If you make it to the boss and get utterly owned, roll back to here and grind more. (I haven't had to do this yet personally but the game is slowly getting harder, so maybe it'll happen.) Slot Three: Before events you might want to see multiple paths of.

PPSSPP supports save states. I mapped the "save state" button to my L3 click and I hit it every time I reach a new floor of Tartarus in case something goes catastrophically wrong. But I'm not the type of person who enjoys total party wipes and losing progress. I'm baby.

Oh and you need to trust me here: PLAY THE GIRL. DO NOT PLAY THE BOY, THE GAME IS APPRECIABLY WORSE. When you start the game it'll warn you to play Boy first. FUCKING IGNORE THAT SHIT AND PLAY THE GIRL. Also FemPC is the only one with a gay option to my knowledge.

TIPS FOR THE COMBAT PORTION OF THE GAME:

If you are not into MegaTen/Persona, just play on Easy. It's okay and no one is gonna judge you. And anyone who does it outing themselves as an asshole.

Your goal for the first tens of hours of combat is to knock all enemies down in a single turn. When all enemies are knocked down, your party does an All Out Attack and usually finishes off the fight. Hitting enemies with their weakness or getting a critical will knock them down and let you take another attack in the same turn. Keep chaining until everyone is knocked down!

You can find most enemies weaknesses by scanning them with Mitsuru/Fuuka. Do this for every enemy, it'll help later when you have seen 40 enemies and cannot remember who's weak to what.

Each party member has an elemental specialty but you the player can swap your pokemon persona once per turn. Lemme repeat: YOU CAN SWAP YOUR PERSONA IN BATTLE ONCE PER TURN. You don't have to wait to be out of battle to swap!

This is a game where its very worthwhile to, once you reach a new combat area, to upgrade all of your weapons and armor. The stat jumps are pretty significant. You'll get some equipment from Elizabeth's quests and in exploration but not a lot. So figure out who you're gonna use mainly and kit them out when new gear appears.

You unlock Akihiko in the second or third month of play (first 5 hours, maybe sooner depending on your playstyle). He was a small lesson for me as a player bc he spends HP to hit hard. Kind of scary at first but he'll be fine, let him be a blood knight. Yukari will heal him when he's in the danger zone. Also, if you are keeping everyone up to date on their equipment there are many times Akihiko does more damage with his normal attack than his Persona skill. He's like. Maddeningly useful. And he's the best boy. And I love him. ANYWAY.

Don't be precious about your personas. Fuse frequently. Also if you have one you REALLY like the skillset of, tell Elizabeth you want to register them in the compendium and you can summon them again for money. (You get the compendium early game, just chill until it unlocks.)

Oh yeah so when you start fighting, your party members will be on Full AI Mode. When you start to understand what you're doing, you can go into Tactics and switch them to being under your control. Or switch them back! Up to you!

FINALLY, THIS IS THE ONE I WISH I UNDERSTOOD EARLY. Once you start really breezing through combat, when you are in Tartarus and out of combat: JUST TELL EVERYONE TO GO EXPLORE. They will split up from you and run around finding items and will locate the exits. This makes getting through Tartarus floors easy. AND IF ONE OF THEM GETS INTO COMBAT? Stand nearby and if they start to lose too my HP, HEAL THEM FROM YOUR MENU. It's fucking great. I love this mechanic so much and I was too scared to use it for so long. USE IT!!!!

i think once you get Fuuka you can change the BGM while you are exploring. I like Track 4, it's very fun.

OKAY THAT'S THE COMBAT HALF OF THE GAME, LET'S TALK ABOUT THE REST OF IT:

This game is driven by your Social Links with people, series of little scenes in visual novel style. Having strong social links means your personas for that Arcana will be stronger. You can pick choices in many of these social link scenes that will make the person happy or sad.

There's a few social links where if you want to max them out you gotta suck it up and say the 'right' thing for that person. Rio does not want a lot of pushback or challenge to her ideas. Akihiko will clam up if you make fun of his interests and frequently misses sarcasm and jokes with his literalism. Saori wants gentle pushback against her isolation but not super aggressively. If you fuck up and feel bad, reload a save! It's okay.

Junpei is not a romance option. Knowing this made me like him a LOT more and he became my best fucking bro and my ride-or-die. Junpei is great. He'd be awful if he was a romance option.

A few characters are gated based on your stat triangle of Academics, Courage, and Charm. If you have a character you REALLY want to hang with, it's worth seeing what the requirements are. FOR INSTANCE: Akihiko doesn't unlock for hang outs until he recovers from his injury, which takes a while. BUT to even hang out with him, you need to reach Charm level 4. So my ass was grinding Charm until he opened up as an option. Later, I had to grind Courage to meet the Tower, who is awesome.

BEST WAY TO LEVEL ANY OF YOUR STATS: Charm (needed for Akihiko): work at Chagall Cafe Mon/Tues/Wed nights when you can. Also once you have enough money, the Print Club arcade game will give a huge boost when its available. Also giving Junpei the right answer in class will boost Charm. Academics (needed for Mitsuru): i'm still grinding this rn lmao but the Quiz Game at the arcade and the documentary movies at the cinema will give you a big boost. Also when the game offers to let you sleep in class, always stay awake for a small boost. Courage (needed for The Tower): Horror House at the arcade, but also doing karaoke at the mall. Also, when you are tired after fighting in Tartarus, go talk to the school nurse (this doesn't consume an action) for a Courage boost.

When I was initially looking up guides for this game, they were unified in one message. Just play the game naturally and you'll probably get close to who you like! Except Akihiko. Look up a guide for him. I didn't find him that difficult because I cottoned on fast that he's an shy autistic Team Mom who takes things literally a lot, and once I figured that out it was easy. But if you have your heart set on someone, look them up! It's a long game.

listen. some social links are great (Junpei, Fuuka, Akihiko, The Devil, The Tower) and some are not (Bebe, the Student Council). I think it's fine to just... not do some of them if you don't like them lmao.

Finally, when its your day off, sometimes people will call you and ask you out. I ALWAYS make a save state here, turn everyone down to see who I have as an option, and then load my state to pick who I want. I recommend doing that, especially for the Summer Festival because you will get multiple offers, but Junpei will probably be first. Sorry, Junpei, I wanna hang out with Akihiko. (Also: wear the yukata if you're going with Akihiko.)

Fairly far into the game you'll start getting gifts to give people. I'd save state-cheat these too in case you give someone the wrong thing.

I THINK THAT'S IT

please play persona 3 portable its good

[aclaywrites]

I did! And she turned 13 yesterday! I know children aren’t for everyone, and zero shame in that, but yes I did want a child, and I wanted to grow her in my womb and birth her just like women around the world and throughout time. Corny and fake mystical or whatever it might seem, that’s what I wanted, and it was an experience like no other. Feeling her move and kick, knowing how she was oriented within me, knowing this lump was her butt and this was an elbow, feeling her stretch or get the hiccups. I could never have imagined the reality of those sensations.

20 hours and 40 minutes of unmediated labor was also like nothing else I could have imagined, but I’m glad I made those choices too. I didn’t want her tiny body pumped full of medicine as her first act on earth. I wanted to know what it was like to give birth, to feel it. Many women now, and most women throughout history had no choice but to feel this. I chose it out of solidarity and never wavered, even in hour four of pushing when I could feel her move forward with each contraction and slide back when it was over. I wanted to know what it’s like and now I do.

When they told me she was a girl, I cried. It’s what I wanted, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. The opportunity to put another quality woman on this earth is an honor and privilege. I assumed I’d have a boy, since the universe would want me to learn and grow etc by unlearning some of my man-hating ways. Instead I got a straight girl, which is even more educational.

[destinyc1020]

I think that many of this SM4 rumors come from different factions that are pushing certain stuff at negotiations. I don't think that SM4 had anything to do with the delay of Euphoria because contractually Euphoria would have taken priority over Spidey for Z since Zs Spidey contract (and its precedence over Euphoria) expired with NWH. Also Sydney straight up said that Euphoria was going to be her next project so this decision to delay Euphoria was very recent and the most likely reason is that Sam is going through some shit probably triggered by the deaths of Angus and Turen and he's not accepting for anyone else to help him with the writing (I do think that the Euphoria situation is a major contributing factor to Zs stress. She's not only the lead of the show, but also a producer and a close friend of Sam. We know she would go to his house to motivate him to write during S2. All of this shit should be stressful as hell for her. I think she needs to be ready to walk away if Sam is not willing to get help with the writing. She can't put her career on hold to be a therapist for a friend)

Anyway, we saw during NWH press how Amy Pascal straight up lied to reporters saying that Tom had signed a new Spidey contract. I would bet good money that many of these fake leaks are coming from her. There are billions of $$ involved with the franchise, and when there's so much money at stake people become ruthless. I would not believe anything about SM4 unless it's coming from Variety, Deadline or THR. Until then I'm not going to stress about Spidey at all

Thanks Anon for your input ☺️

Well.... All I'll say is that I definitely hope that Z isn't stressing out about "Euphoria" based on Sam's account. 🥴

While I love Zendaya's incredibly sweet heart and kind nature, I really don't think she should be responsible for babysitting a nearly 40-year old man, and holding his hand to get his freakin' work done. 🙄😒

Going over his house to try to "motivate" him to write??? 🥴 I'm sorry, but NO. 😒 He is a GROWN MAN. My coworkers don't come over to my house to try to get me to sit at my computer and do my job anytime I'm having an emotional or mental bad day. 👀

If the deaths of Angus and Turen have been too much for him (which is totally understandable), then he needs to hire some writers (like NORMAL directors do), OR, take a bit of a break, and revive the show for one last season years from now. 👀 He could even do what "Downton Abbey" does, and just make a full-feature film at the theater after the show seasons ended lol 😆

Making a 2-hour film might actually be easier for him than trying to do 8 one-hour episodes. 👀

Either way, I hope Sam is getting some therapy. 👀 I just think it's incredibly stressful (and shows a lack of common courtesy) to your cast to be taking years to write stuff that really should have been finished long time ago, and to be changing scripts LAST MINUTE every single filming day 🙄(cuz the cast has def talked about this 👀).

Let's also not forget how the crew was constantly complaining all during the S2 filming about the crazy conditions they were under. 🥴

Idk, maybe it's just me, but it just seems to lack common courtesy... but maybe Sam is a perfectionist. 🤷🏾‍♀️

[toreii]

✨Book 6 chapters 66-67 tips✨

I keep seeing people worried about this portion of the episode with book 6 coming soon. So, this is how I did it with the bare minimum of effort. Of course, there are better methods out there than my own. But, I went in blindly not knowing what was to come. I realized I had a problem, so what was I to do? Grind. A lot. Every two and a half hours, three rounds of lessons, every day.

Spoilers below the cut!

These are my three teams for chapter 66. I really should have put more thought into the characters I picked. When I realized my mistake, I decided this would be the hill I would die on. Boy, did I suffer. That said, I realized a few things as I was grinding, and then running off to lose against the Titans.

For chapter 66, your cards should at least be around lv 40. As you can see, I didn’t give Azul or Floyd much love, and I definitely ditched Trey after this chapter. But, at the bare minimum, I had my cards in their 30s.

The Titan for tower 3 likes to inflict fire damage to your life during your standbys, so bring someone that can heal. Preferably on all your teams, but definitely on the Riddle/Azul team.

Duo magic✨ Obviously, having SSRs will be a life saver. But, you can also be like me with Leona and use an R card.😂 I tried having at least an SSR that I could duo magic with to deal extra blows.

Max buddy levels. Make sure your buddy levels are as high as they can be. I will say this, Alchemy lessons will be your life if you are unprepared. So, while you grind for those books and notepads, get your buddy levels up.

The most important tip: magic levels need to be at lv5!! Again, you want to deal those extra blows. The sooner, the better.

Groovy all your cards. Even the R cards if you use them. This needs no explanation. You want that extra ATK and HP boost.

Study the phantom titans attack patterns. I eventually caught on as to how each Titan attacked, and it helped tremendously at picking the right attack against them. If you make a mistake, that’s fine. Try to keep it at one. Messing up twice is a bit too much, but still doable. Three, you might want to restart the battle.

I was mostly saying this to amuse myself, but survive. Survive during this chapter, and you will make it through.💖

For chapter 67, I mostly kept the teams the same. As I mentioned before, I dropped Trey and brought Idia on my Azul/Riddle team hoping to make a difference. Ahahaha….no.🥲 The tips for chapter 67 are basically the same. In this round, however, your card levels should at least be between levels 50-55. Preferably in the 60s.

As you can see, I eventually leveled up Silver to 62. I pushed Vil at level 72 at the time because I kind of grew a little desperate.😆 However, Vil only became useful to me when I unlocked his water magic at level 5. This is why I say it’s important that you do this. Aside from these two, you can see who my main twst team is. They were already in their 60s.

I spent a lot of saved resources. Books, notepads, starshards, gems, honeys, waffles, cupcakes, etc. Overall, this took me about two months to beat. It was basically trial and error, but it is doable so long as you put in work. There’s plenty of time before this part of the story comes. So, think about the cards you’d like to use, and work on them.

Remember! You can change your mind about which characters you will use, but if you make any changes in the midst of going through the towers, you will have to start all over again from the beginning. So, pick your characters wisely!!

I hope these tips bring you a little peace of mind. But, you know, twst recently came out with those reset tickets to make things easier. I haven’t used any yet. Maybe because I already beat book 6, so I can’t use them right now. I don’t know if the EN team will implement this feature soon. If they do, you have that option, as well.

Happy reading and good luck!💖

[itsclydebitches]

I never even made it past act 1 in BG3. Dialogue writing bored me, especially after picking up reading books again. Then the flirting writing, god the flirting, did not do it for me. Shame as the mechanics and gameplay were pretty fun and open ended in a lot of ways.

Oh no! I'm sorry to hear that, anon. A couple of my BG3 posts definitely give a skewed perspective on my experience because, despite its flaws, I adore this game. Steam has my first run-through clocking in at 141 hours, though that might be closer to 180 since that count randomly dropped 40-ish hours about halfway through (no idea why). So yeah, I've enjoyed myself lol.

I can definitely see what you mean about the dialogue compared to many books, but then I don't expect the same style of writing for games as I do novels? Particularly dramatic, epic, deliberately-over-the-top games like one based on DnD. Given the number of romance options I'd be interested to know if it was a particular character that didn't do it for you, or if you've seen play-throughs and none of the flirting hit home. Because one of the things I've enjoyed most is the characterization and how unique each interaction is (despite so many of the companions coming from thematically similar backgrounds). Gale is classically romantic to the point of assumed exaggeration until you realize oh, damn, okay, he's actually just Like That. Astarion flirts like there's no tomorrow, but you slowly begin to uncover how much of that is a mask/a learned defense mechanism (plus a literal part of his enslaved responsibilities). Halsin is also blunt but in such an open way; he's lived too long and gone through too much to not be upfront about his emotions and needs. Wyll longs for that romantic Happy Ending but is so slow and careful about it, never pushing, never assuming, everything he does can be interpreted as romantic or platonic depending on the preferences of the player character. Lae'zel... wants to jump your bones once she realizes you know which end of a sword to stick in your enemies lol.

And that's just what I've picked up from getting opening romance options that I then rejected to stick with Gale. It's a pretty diverse selection with, I hope, only more improvements to come as we continue to get patches and updates.

[lcstinfantasy]

little life update to explain my lower activity/communications

so obviously we all know my job takes its toll on me. mentally and physically. it always has. some days are better than others but being a vet tech is an exhausting jobs. from wrestling with 150-pound dogs, to getting attacked by a fractious cat, to having to put a family pet down -- it's not easy. that being said, our head doctor /owner has decided to set a goal for this month. so we usually average 125K a month in services because of how expensive a lot of testing and vaccines can be (we don't make the prices people it's the companies that make them or the labs and we have to make some type of profit -- that's business) but the goal is to make over 130K for the month of novemeber. the reasoning for this goal is that whatever we make over that 130k, will get split between the employees and put into our christmas bonuses. which is awesome, don't get me wrong. like if we make 140k, that's $1250 more in my bonus (our doctor is the sweetest old man and loves us like family) BUT the bad news that brings is that we will be slammed. for the 10 hours we work. work in appointments, regular appointments, more sick animals, more tech appointments, more blood draws, more x-rays, more baths, etc, all in those hours. it already started today and it's been hell. my back hurts, my knees hurt, my head hurts -- i am EXHAUSTED AND SORE.

so that being said, i don't know what my activity is going to look like going forward. some days i might have energy for a reply or two, i might not. i am not going to push myself too much. so i know i am already slow, but i will be slower going forward with replies. same with talking ooc. when i am tired, burnt out, and overwhelmed, i tend to withdraw. it's nothing on the person or anything, this is very much me not having spoons to give other people. i got to do that for 40+ hours a week as it is and then when i come home i have to have a spoon for my husband cause the man is needy, and by the time i relax -- i just wanna not think.having conversations feel like a lot of work (i promise you i am avoid everyone and everything lol -- it's not personal)

and i know some of y'all are gonna say i don't have to explain myself and such -- but after a few encounters in life it's just become a habit. i don't want anyone to feel like i am ignoring them, pulling away, or don't want to associate with them. mu brain just can't handle a lot lol.

love you all lots for sticking around and putting up with me!

[a-mess-of-a-crow]

Yall, just so you know this is anonymous, so I can't see who would vote no.

Also

Hi! I'm Craven!

I'm a wanna be artist with absolute crushed self esteem that desperately needs validation to get self worth and on the other hand doesn't believe that people's compliments are valid!

So basically= A self made self esteem issue!

I jump from hobby to hobby like a whore, making music, crotchet, animation, drawing, learning japanese (and failing miserably 😊), gave up on learning danish, learning guitar and keyboard, I used to make iron pellet art (hard to make with shaky ass hands)

Das me btw! In all my glory! (Wet socks in the sand, God fears me)

(me in school and my new jacket, old pic, Mochi laughed a lot :> )

Boring facts=

I'm 20 and a mess cuz since 2015 I've been simping over undertale like a Maniac (it's been better these days, but tumblr temporarily pushed me back into the obsession)

I'm a cat/ dog fanatic, but always crows before hoes

My favorite colors are purple, red, blue and black

I'm definitely demisexual polyamourous, but pan or polyromantic? I dunno lol.

Also genderfluid (altho i personally never really know what gender I feel like in the moment)

I have an absolute hopeless love for my aro/ace best friend who is called Mochi and she is the best and literally only real (real life) friend I ever had

Totally not my dumb brain starved for human connection and then immediately clinging to whoever is being a decent person to me

Luckily she is also a bomb person and kind so she doesn't use me like my other friendships XD

How did Red Mass start?

To get an idea of what my AU is, you gotta know how my dumb brain thought of it.

2015. I was absolutely sucked into Undertale after watching a german YouTuber play it, and then I started watching a certain Irish fella play it as well.

I started watching comic dubs of all the Au's that people made, faning out and just binged watched everything relating to it.

Then my family and I had vacation.

A trip to Rome (it was hot and awful, never again. Fucking 40°C celsius are you kidding me?)

It was a 15 hour trip (with bathroom/ smoker breaks)

And i layed in the back of the car, daydreaming about all those Au's.

It was awesome and cool and I slowly started to MAYBE get pandora syndrome of where I desperately wanted to be a part of those stories (I know. Cringe)

It got so bad that I maaaaybe cried in bed every night hoping I'd just wake up in the stories (but my life sucks so that also played a role)

So on that car ride, Luna lovania (god the cringe hurts me badly) was born.

A skeleton oc at first, later being an oc that is a fusion of Frisk and sans (which still is a part of Red Mass)

I daydreamed 15 hours + 15 hours back about Red Mass, it was such bliss (and even while we were in Rome)

And since that point, I have kept daydreaming every day for 8 years, and it became a big part of my life (as ridiculous as this sounds)

I just realized I might be insane.

Oh well

I will make a specific Red Mass post, explaining the story a bit and character introduction ((but not revealing too many spoilers since I kinda wanna make it into a thing))

I hope you guys mean it if you say you're interested :)

[mooifyourecows]

moo i feel crazy like maybe i was just REALLY tired and happened to open tumblr in a sleepy haze last night but istg half your recent posts THAT ARE LIKED??? i have not read 🤔🤔 like maybe i accidentally opened a notification and was like omg i’m gonna read these and i just don’t remember 🤷‍♀️

also i just saw your respond to a question about commissions and i’m always so shocked at your pricing because at first i’m like omg that’s so much and then i think about it and it’s actually not?? like you posted about $300 for gmb right?? and just using my research paper i just wrote as an example, i took about 8ish hours to write it and get evidence and stuff, so let’s say with the amount of words you tend to write per chapter double that to 16, PLUS you’re creatively writing which takes more time so let’s double it again to 32, and then i included researching as about half the time originally but let’s say another 8 to go back and reread and fact check and all that to make sure it’s consistent since you haven’t touched it for a while and that ads up to 40 hours plus editing outside of fact checking so probably like a good 45 hours

i have no real reference on your creative process so i might be way way off BUT if you get paid $300 for one chapter and you work even just 30 hours, that’s only $10/hour, but if it’s closer to 40 or 45, that’s $7.5 or $6.7/hour respectively

so actually it’s a total steal?? unless you were to like push them out in two hours but at that point you deserve $150/hour if you can write a good chapter in two hours🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

a more realistic shorter time though would be like 20 hours so even with that, it’s $15/hour which is like barely minimum wage depending on where you live (i’m assuming you live in illinois since you post about it a lot and for over 18 it’s $13/hour)

when i got into fan fiction writing when i was like 8 i think i took like ten hours to write like two pages and i gave up after staring at my screen forever and have not attempted since.

Yeeeahhhh, honestly I wish I could charge more but I'm pretty sure nobody would commission me if I did

Conversely, I'd love to charge LESS because I'd get more engagement but then I'd be working way too much for too little pay off

That's why I offer to let multiple people pitch in for a single commission, since my writing is something that multiple people benefit off of anyway. Nobody has gathered to do that yet though so lol oh well 🤷‍♂️

It's rough out there

[kanndlila]

Frog Brain

Bully!Scaramouche x Reader Highschool AU

Also: Kazuha x Onesided!Reader; might expand this in the future; reader is gender neutral; I wrote this at 1 AM; not beta read;

TW: Swearing, Panic attacks, Dissection,

Frogs, Lizards, and Chicks. All three have been samples of your highschool dissections. However, for the final year of your high school, instead of bunnies, you have to extract brains from frogs instead. While rabbits seem to be a more educational option at this point, the number of people tearing up in last year’s dissection of the chick made your science teacher reconsider his choices. 

‘Whoever manages to extract a full frog brain without damage gets additional points for the final’ he said. Now, you’re minutes before the said class starts. You can’t be in the lab without a lab coat, and like the klutz brain you are, you forgot your lab coat on this special day. 

“Are you okay Y/N?��� Keqing asks. Oh archons, the panic is setting in. You take shallow breaths. Knowing there’s only one more class doing the dissection on the same day as you do, you asked your friends, “Do you know anyone in the Inazuma class? I forgot my lab coat…” Your heart bleeds at the realization that your dissection bag did not contain your lab coat. You only had a small circle of friends, mostly those who are academically focused but not in the levels of those in the Celestia section. 

“Maybe I do… hold on, let me ask one of my friends there.” Beidou quickly types something on her phone. “Thanks Beidou, I owe you.” 

“Who the heck forgets their lab coat on dissection day?” A voice you know all too well interjects, you can already hear him rolling his eyes. “Scaramouche don’t be mean.” Childe just pushes him away. Normally you’d bash his face in but no, doing that will cause you more trouble and he isn’t worth your time and energy. ‘He isn’t worth your time nor energy.’ You silently repeat yourself until the rage dies down.

“Beidou you needed Ayaka’s lab coat?” Thoma came over. You used to be classmates until you had enough of Scaramouche’s bullying and you demanded a section change from your principal several months back. You didn’t have any close friends in that section anyway so you initiated the move. “Hi Y/N!” Thoma greeted you. You smiled back. “Actually it’s for me. Is that alright? I’ll return it before your class goes in for the dissection.” “Sure!” He handed over the neatly folded lab coat. I smelled faintly of Sakuras. 

An hour. That’s all you have to extract 2 frog brains, which according to your science teacher, may not be enough time. He had to ask another class for their time but given that the next class is math, the math teacher didn’t give in so you had to go back to math class after an hour in the laboratory, then come back to the lab right after since the history teacher kindly gave his time. On the other hand, the other section got lucky with 2 hours of uninterrupted lab time. 

Mr. Baizhu gave a short orientation of how it’s supposed to go. First, take out the boiled frogs, which were initially dissected a day prior, out of the alcohol solution, then pin everything into place, and by some miracle, take out the brain from the cranium squished between the two eye sockets of the amphibian; intact, twice for the bonus points, otherwise the grade is going to depend on whether or not it’s recognizable. That and the trip to the lab took 15 minutes. So you only had 40 minutes left, allotting 5 minutes to return the lab coat to Thoma.

Your friends were gathered around you. Yelan, Beidou, and Ningguang going through each of their frogs. Might as well get a start on yours. You twisted the unneeded limbs and bones apart leaving you with the frog’s ‘skull’ on the first frog. Mr. Baizhu didn’t explain how to do it, only where it is and that it should be intact. 

You used your dissecting scissors to get the ‘skull’ to open. Out goes a squid looking… meat? Compared to the brown-charred frog skin and bones, this one looked like shrimp meat in the shape of a tiny squid. You put it in a vial of alcohol and put a sign on the cap to label it as yours before you went to Mr. Baizhu before looking at the clock. 15 minutes left.

“Yes, that’s it! Excellent work Y/N. It’s intact!” He returned the vial to you, probably so he can check it with the 2nd brain later.

You were feeling a little euphoric but the race doesn’t end here. You only have 13 minutes left when you come back to your station to extract the second brain out. Now that you know how to approach the beast, you went in to quickly finish the beast. By the time you finished, there was only 3 minutes left and- “Y/N?” Thoma is already looking for you.

“I’m almost done, sorry Thoma. 2 minutes!” You called out. In your haste, you gripped your tweezers too hard and made a cut along the stem of your frog brain. Ah shit, there goes all your hard work. You put it in the vial, trashed your gloves, and swiftly washed your hands before coming over to Thoma, who now has Ayaka by his side, alongside the whole other class… and that unpleasant midget from earlier, huffing at the sight of you. You took off the lab coat and handed over the lab coat to Ayaka as gracefully as you could, thanking her and bowing several times, relief only flooding through your veins now. You didn’t have to have a lab coat anymore because technically you were done. 

“Class you can leave everything as is, you’ll be returning later anyways but if you have your frog brains already, please take the vials with you.” Mr. Baizhu headed out of the lab room to accompany the other class into another laboratory.

“Help me with my frog brain later Y/N!” Xiangling said outloud, taking your vials and giving them to you. You muttered a small thank you then your eyes absentmindedly sifted through the other class though. “Ohoho! Looking for your boyfie?” You glared at Beidou. A brow going up and down from disbelief. “Uh… WHAT?!” Your brain short circuited. While it’s true you do have your eyes for someone, however he wanted a blueberry cheesecake when you were a black forest cake. Definitely not his taste. It does not help that the said cheesecake just saved your klutzy ass from missing the 30% of your grade altogether.

“You’re overthinking again Y/N” Yelan pointed out, looking at your crestfallen face. The past hour has been very stressful for you. “I can’t really help it if he thinks she’s perfect.” You still had math class coming up too. You knew that statistics would fry your brain further and as one of the less than five people who actually do the math homework, you have to save the brain power. 

In the middle of means, medians, modes, and cumulative frequencies, a knock comes on your classroom door, Xingqiu, being the closest to the door, answers it. “Y/N, Mr. Baizhu needs your vials.” Xingqiu went back on his seat while Ms. Guizhong continued on with the statistics lesson. You grabbed your vials, making sure each one has a sign only you can draw by heart, before heading outside the door to hand them over to- “Thank you. Mr. Baizhu said you can have them back as soon as your class heads back to the labs.” Kazuha’s soothing voice resonated in your mind. “Okay.” You smiled at him as farewell before retreating back into the classroom, blood pumping in your ears and you sure do hope that it isn’t on your face.

Oh you wished Math lasted longer. There were two things you are good at academically. Math and Science and as of now, you are seeking refuge from the latter. But alas, you have learned that all good things must come to an end and you must face your adversaries with resiliency.

Your class started to head back to the laboratory to continue with your dissection and without Mr. Baizhu, who was still in the other laboratory helping the other class, you took it upon yourself to go around and help people locate and extract the frog brain. Not 10 minutes in, Mr. Baizhu went into the laboratory to do some rounds and instructed you to go to the other classroom to help his aide, Albedo. When you stepped in the classroom, you already knew that you were going to be reprimanded for your lack of proper lab attire but the Albedo let you in anyways since it looks like he’s having a hard time trying to help  Scaramouche, who, had mush on his dissecting plates. You unintentionally snicker. He glared at you before you turned your back on him and helped Yae Miko. There’s no way anyone can save his ass now.

“You’re doing good Miko, you just have to separate these two sides so you can have better access.” You pointed to the eye sockets. “Oh thank you Y/N. I missed you, you know?” She giggled before going on with her first frog. “Ei you have to be careful or the brain will be a mush.” “Thoma careful on the scissors, that’s how I cut the second brain that I had.” “Same for you Ayaka, oh wow, this is your second brain already?” You picked up her first sample. The top half is intact but the same cannot be said for the mush that is the bottom. You put it down before you made a swift pass on the next table. “Gorou be a bit more gentle with the tweezers are you’re going to rip it in half.” You pretend to spend more time with him before going to the next one. “You’re trying to break bones, not carving gelatin Kazuha, you can go more aggressive on the bones.” You made a second round, happy with the progress everyone is making with one or both brains good for them already. All that’s left is the scavenger hunt that is within Scaramouche’s dissecting pans with Albedo.

“You’re going to have to redo this. There’s no way you’re going to find a brain in this.” Albedo sighed and stood up, filing a form for additional frogs to be ordered for the next dissection. Everyone else is already cleaning up and there he was, staring at his dissecting pans. From the hallway, your friends call out for you, looks like most of them were done as well and of course, was granted an early dismissal. You said your farewells, not leaving Scaramouche’s table, then Kazuha blocked your view of the door. 

“I believe this is yours.” He returned your frog brains and stayed to stare at Scaramouche’s pan of questionable things. “Leave me be.” He finally uttered, the down-sticken boy. His despair was brought by 2 mutilated frogs on his pans. 

You tsked, grabbing one of his vials, and rolled your eyes. Taking pity on the sad, sad boy. You poured the contents of your vial with the intact frog brain into his vial. “You’re lucky Mr. Baizhu only needs one of these.” You shake the vial in front of his face as he eyed the vial, “Congratulations, you now have a brain of a frog.” worded like it was his own brain, ha! So clever, who knew it’s this easy to move Scaramouche to tears, well, near-tears? You left the vial on the table, Kazuha processing what just happened before starting to clean Scaramouche’s mess for him, the fragile boy holding on to the brain in the vial while he tries to sort out the one in his skull. "Albedo, we got the brain. There's no need for additional frogs." He nodded and you head out the door. You still had your own station to clean up anyway.

[cextra-loz]

Today I was able to stand for a new limit of 50 minutes when my physical symptoms are at their most minimal in a controlled environment. So we know 50 is the max now we're trying to reach 1 hour. I feel like I could've reached an hour with how I was feeling but the muscle endurance in my legs wouldn't have let me. I'm reaching a weird stage in my progress where its been so long since my body has had to support my weight for that long the blood pooling in my soles irritates and hurts like hell the days afterwards so now i'm rubbing the my feet like i've worked a hard day to prevent the inflammation from impeding my progress. I feel tho if I can reach that 1 hour limit I can reach longer times with practice. Its been years since i've stood for so long i'm really excited to keep practicing and hopefully keep improving. Last year around this time I was barely reaching 35 maybe 40 if I really really pushed- during my least symptomatic hours. Those extra 10 minutes might not mean much but since the beginning of my illness I never imagined i'd be able to make it to 30 let alone 50. I felt pretty good this session too which is the most important part, I feel like its the lack of muscular stamina that held me back rather than cardiac endurance. Anyway update is over, if I reach that 1 hour time it'll be a happy day I cannot tell how long it'll take me to reach that time but with some more practice I think a few weeks or months at least i'd imagine maybe even sooner. I'm so happy lets go! Dreams do come true at least 4 me ehehe!