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cherrygorilla · 9 months

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The Mixtape Mysteries: Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne - 4:53

Yes, it is a ridiculous amount of time since I last posted anything to do with this (or anything at all really), but I've been dying to write for this story again, so I thought it would be a good way to help me get my groove back. Plus, I wanted to wait until Camp Wanamaker was done before I went back to working on Acting School Drop Out (because I feel like I might be able to use some stuff that's been mentioned in the next part lol). So, after months and months of uni stress that's kept me away from my google doc, here's the next installment of the story that's kept me going through it all.

Listen along with the gang here. Enjoy!

Heavy eyelids dropped over a pair of umber eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the computer screen in front of them. Whilst the radio often felt like Butchy's only co-worker, today it just seemed to be functioning as a lullaby machine - and the smooth, fade-out ending of Electric Light Orchestra's 'Evil Woman' just proved the point further. One second he was staring blankly at a page of pixelated text on a fuzzy screen, and then the next thing he knew he was drooling into the palm of his hand and almost falling off his chair at the sound of a car racing past his window.

It's not even that he was tired - it was barely even 11am for Christ's sake - he was just so bored his brain was shutting down from lack of stimulation. And considering the latest turn of events, his body wasn't far behind. The roaring engine disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the incessant ticking of the plastic wall clock in its place. It didn't matter what kind of car it was, or where the hell it was going; all Butchy knew was that he wanted to be in it. Hopefully travelling far, far away from this crappy, dead-end town, and this shoe box of an office, that was more dust than desk, and smelled like a wet rat.

Begrudgingly, he gathered himself together and finished typing out the latest file he'd been working on - something about trespassing in the old steel mill, he didn't care enough to look into the details. Tipping his head back, he rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to press as hard as he could to draw some sort of alertness to the forefront of his mind. If anything, it just made him more tired.

One glance across his desk let his gaze settle on the dorky Star Wars mug Royce and Bentley had gifted him on his last birthday, and for the first time since he'd slumped in the splitting leather swivel-chair that morning, a ghost of a smile graced his features. He took a swig and drained the mug of the last of its contents: bitter, room-temperature coffee. Wincing at the taste, he picked up the next file to work on, but swiftly dropped it in favour of refilling his mug. After all, the walk to the coffee pot in the main office was the only change of scenery he got all day. Sometimes he watered the dying yucca plant beside him with the rancid liquid just so that he had an excuse to get away from his desk.

The tapping of keyboards and mumblings of the same, tedious phone calls he overheard every day met Butchy's ears as he lumbered down the hall and pushed open the office door. Lurking behind the frosted panel, caked in as much dust as the rest of the building, was the rag-tag reception team, consisting of three women Butchy had absolutely no intention of even looking at, let alone speaking to. He'd given up trying to make conversation with his co-workers pretty quickly after every meagre attempt on his end had been ignored. Most shifts passed without him uttering a single word. However, Lela ditching his ride that morning must have thrown him off more than he realised, because this shift was about to become an anomaly.

"So I said to him: If you know so much about the damn sausages, why don't you cook 'em yourself?"

"I bet he knows a lot about one kind of sausage."

"Oh Jen, pull your mind out of the gutter, you sound like a teenager."

"She practically still is one."

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

A strained sigh slipped past Butchy's lips before he could stop it. The nasal drones from the women behind him were enough to make his eye twitch at the best of times, but the added scraping of Jennifer's nail file made it inevitable. Before he could short-circuit altogether though, one of the adjoining doors to the main office was pushed open, and the conversation unfolding behind it immediately caught his attention.

Heaving a sigh that put the young trainee's to shame, the fourth, and final receptionist, led the charge into the room - two officers hot on her heels. "Well, you'll just have to go alone then, won't you, gentlemen?"

"We can't just 'go alone', the chief's the only one that goes on solo investigations. What if it's dangerous? What if we need back-up?"

"And what, pray tell, Officer Reynolds, is so 'dangerous' about a broken store window?"

"Well from the sounds of things it's a pretty clear-cut robbery. What if the culprit's still on the scene? What if he's armed?"

"Why are you assumin' it's a 'he'?" Jennifer piped up with a smirk, punctuating her question by blowing the acrylic dust from the tip of her nail.

As expected, neither officer batted an eyelid at her interruption.

"We got the call last night. You've got a higher chance of him sticking the damn window back together."

"But what if it's like that time when Old Man McRoberts'-"

"Enough, boys. I don't want to hear it," she finally snapped, slamming the stack of paperwork down on her desk so hard it even made her glasses chain quiver. Turning to the pair with her hands planted firmly on her hips, she continued. "Callahan, you're on patrol with Officer Powell; Reynolds, you're investigating that store window. Alone."

"But Fran, that never-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word. You're going solo, Reynolds, and that's that."

"...Uh, I could go with you."

The whole office fell silent. Even Jennifer's nail file seemed to pause for thought. But all too soon, six pairs of eyes fell on Butchy, whose grip on his mug instinctively tightened under their bemused glares. He couldn't exactly blame them; even he couldn't believe that he'd dared to speak - let alone suggest such a thing. But then again, this was a perfect opportunity - perhaps the only opportunity he'd get (at least for the foreseeable future) to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Being stuck behind a computer screen all day was getting him nowhere - in fact, he was pretty sure he had even less respect now than when he'd first set foot through the door over a month ago. But working on a case, a real case, meant he could put all the skills he'd learnt in his training to the test - show everyone that potential he'd promised in his interview. This could be the making of Officer Bandoni. This could be his ticket out of that godawful, stuffy office. This could be-

"Oh my god, look at his face; he's serious."

God, he hated Jennifer. But he hated that cackling laugh of hers even more.

"Jennifer," Linda, the crotchety receptionist to her left, scolded. If Butchy hadn't known better, with her brusque, hushed tone and sharp glare from over the top of her tortoise shell glasses, he'd have thought the woman was her mother.

"Yeah right," Officer Callahan snorted. But a pause, followed by a brief glance in the new recruit's direction soon had his confidence faltering. "I- Oh…"

"Hey, cut him some slack, Jen; the kid's still learning the ropes," Officer Reynolds piped up, ignoring Officer Callahan's attempts to hide his smirk by smoothing out his moustache, and instead sending the smarmy receptionist a blasé, yet stern frown. "Of course he wasn't being serious."

"Actually, I was," Butchy corrected. He set his mug down and stood his ground opposite the two officers, gently nudging his chin up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to outwardly show some of the confidence he was so desperately trying to scrounge together. At least that would help to mask the stubborn rage bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. The staff's dismissiveness was frustrating enough on its own, but being reduced to a 'kid' was downright infuriating. 'Kids' did not single-handedly raise their little sister. 'Kids' did not give up their weekends to go and work in a shitty garage for two bucks an hour all throughout high school just so they could have food on the table. 'Kids' did not shoulder the responsibility of four adults after stepping up to parent, not only his own sister, but the three boys next door too. Butchy hadn't felt like a 'kid' in years. He had always been the oldest - the most mature, the most dependable, the most capable… So for these six adults, who had barely given him the time of day in the month he'd been working with them, to stand there and tell him he was nothing more than a 'kid'...it was insulting. And he was determined to prove them wrong. "If you need another officer for back-up, and no one else is free, then why can't I go with you?"

"Well, for one, you're not an officer-"

All Reynolds had to do was hold up a hand for Callahan to snuff out his snickers. "Because you haven't finished your training yet, son," he plainly explained. At least his withering look was softened by a bored tone.

"But I've aced every part of the course I've completed so far," Butchy argued. "And this could be a chance for me to learn on the job, out in the field-"

"Son, let it go."

"You said, yourself, that I've got potential. Why can't I just show you-?"

"Look, kid, you're not ready - you won't be for a long time. I admire the optimism but we've gotta look at the facts here. And truth is: the dirt on Callahan's shoe's got more experience walkin' 'round a crime scene than you do. I know you want to get out of the office and get a taste of the action, but I can't work the case and babysit you at the same time. It's just not realistic."

'Babysit'? Butchy could feel the word in the palm of his hand as he clenched his fingers into a fist around it, crushing it, along with all its juvenile connotations. "I'm not a 'kid', I'm eighteen years old," he insisted, choosing his words and tone very carefully as he fought not to lose his cool.

"Yeah, and I'm not a chainsmoker neither," Jennifer sniggered, appearing to have swapped her nail file for a cigarette during the confrontation. She took a long drag as her, deep, carob eyes latched onto his, lashes sprawling across a rough sea of streaky kohl, before letting the smoke leak out through her crimson-painted smirk.

Butchy didn't know what was more nauseating: her attitude or the stench of tobacco hanging in the air.

Officer Reynolds let out an exasperated sigh that soon stole back the trainee's glare though. "That's all well and good, but it's not gonna change my mind. You need more experience before you go out in the field, Bandoni," he explained, with an expression that told Butchy he was well-weary of the conversation now. "You can't learn to run before you learn to walk. It's just not realistic - if anything, it's naïve."

"But how am I supposed to get more experience when I'm stuck behind a desk all day?"

Butchy's question was shot down though as the pair of officers crossed the room to the office's main door, back to their usual routine of barely acknowledging his existence. "If I'm not back by two for your CPR training, Officer Powell will handle it, okay?" Reynolds said as he plucked his hat from the coat stand in the corner and secured it atop his head of thinning, taupe hair. Knowing the new recruit wouldn't be satisfied with any answer he could give him, he'd just decided to brush the question aside altogether.

And knowing that defiance, and further provoking, would get him nowhere, Butchy finally relaxed his hand, and gave a stiff nod. He silently watched the officers announce their departure to the room and felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his chest aching with betrayal. Officer Reynolds was supposed to be his mentor, the one who would take him under his wing as he learned the ropes - and yet he'd kicked him to the curb and spat in his face the one time he'd tried to do the right thing. At least that's how it felt to him anyway.

"Bye boys," Jennifer trilled with a flirty giggle as the office door closed behind them. Tapping the ash from the end of her cigarette, she turned her vampish smirk to Butchy. "Nice little show there, Bandoni. And there I was thinking today was gonna be boring."

Butchy's frown deepened as her scornful laughter battered his ears. The thick-headed she-devil wasn't worth his breath though - even the sickened huff that escaped his throat felt like a waste. His fingers once again closed, although this time they at least found the warm ceramic of his mug beneath them. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to focus on anything else other than the anger boiling in his chest. At least the Star Wars mug, and the memory of receiving it, gave him something to anchor himself to: a way to discharge all the bitter resentment that had been steadily building for weeks, but had finally come to an ugly head. One more snarky comment from Danielle and he'd have hurled the coffee at her sloppy up-do, he knew it - he could feel himself teetering on the brink.

And yet, a friendly hand in the centre of his back was all it took to draw him back from the edge. "I should be thanking you," Fran said with a sympathetic chuckle, and roll of her eyes at the officers' expense. "I thought they'd never leave."

Managing a weak, but grateful smile to the receptionist, Butchy finally picked his mug up from the drink station and took his leave before he could draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Jennifer's squawking voice still rang in his ears as his footsteps pounded down the hall, desperate (for once) to shut himself away in his office. At least in there he knew he was safe from further embarrassment, even if the only thing waiting for him was a stack of files on petty traffic crimes. Apparently reading about speeding fines and parking tickets was all the excitement his life could afford him for the time being. But, for once, he actually found some comfort in that.

"Well, Wuthering Heights, you were fun while you lasted, but I am not going to miss you," Vivien snorted, holding the worn paperback out in front of her, as if to address it like an old friend.

The gentle chuckles that bounced the soft, chocolate brown curls beside her set her innocent little middle-school heart aflutter, and she caught herself clamping her lips shut in case it tried to escape. Craving the thrill of that sensation again, she snatched a shy glance in his direction before plastering the jovial grin back on her face. "Thank you for the 'A' though, Emily."

"What are you thanking her for? We did all the hard work," Royce scoffed. "I wrote so many notes on the moors I'm pretty sure I almost gave myself Carpal Tunnel."

A snicker crinkled the brunette's nose. "Well you do have the neater handwriting."

"And you have all the good ideas," Royce chuckled, praying desperately that the prickling he felt across his cheeks wasn't what he thought it was.

Stopping in front of a set of painted metal doors, Vivien turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Not all the good ideas."

"Fine… most then."

Whilst Royce may have been able to keep his blush at bay, Vivien felt hers raging like a wildfire as she downplayed his compliment with an affectionate eye-roll and pushed her way out into the crisp autumn air of the Hawkins Middle parking lot. Hopefully a bracing breeze like the one that smacked her across the face the second she set foot onto the asphalt would help her systems stop running on overdrive, because right now she felt like a live wire about to catch light. One wrong move from Royce and he'd be fried to a crisp.

Wrapping her free hand around the forearm that flanked him, protecting his arm from being barbecued should he decide to fondly bump her as they fell into stride once more, Vivien, composure regained, offered him a smile. "I guess that makes us a pretty good team then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed, holding her gaze for a beat and letting the sincerity of the moment swell alongside the tingly, warm feeling spreading through his chest. "...And we've got the A to prove it." Terrified by the sensation, he snorted out a laugh that shattered the tenderness of the moment just as awkwardly as how he almost tripped over his own feet because he was spending more time looking at Vivien and her freaking dimples than where he was walking. Damn his stupid hand-me-down sneakers from Miles and their stupidly long laces.

More awkward, cheerful chuckles tumbled from the middle schoolers' lips as Royce steadied himself again and they made their way over to the cluster of trees by the soccer field. It didn't take Vivien long to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them though. "I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves now that project's finished; it completely took over our lives for like two whole weeks there."

"I'm sure we'll find something."

But Royce's laidback grin was the complete antithesis of Vivien's tense shoulders and skittish gaze. Then again, he had no idea what she was planning, or what her skating friends had been begging her to do for weeks.

It couldn't be that hard, right? It was just one little question. She asked him questions all the time, this one didn't need to be any different. And besides, there wasn't really anything Vivien felt as though she couldn't talk to Royce about; he was her best friend, he was always her first port of call for anything that was bothering her - well, unless it was about something like her period; that was strictly for her mom…

But this was just a question: one that could very well have been asked without another thought had she not attached all the extra weight to it in her mind. And yet here she was, fighting her own tongue, trying to persuade it to recite the script she'd meticulously planned out in her head the night before, because for some reason it wasn't convinced by her promised ability to brush the sentiment off as 'just a friend thing' should Royce take it badly. And neither was her mind, really.

Realistically though, what was the worst thing that could happen if he had a weird reaction? It's not like a meteor would crash out of the sky and strike them both down or anything, no matter how much she may want it to in the moment - she knew; she'd checked and it wasn't the right time of year for it. The worst that could happen is things might be a little awkward between them for a couple days, right? He wouldn't-

-Actually, scratch that. Vivien didn't want to think about it.

"Well, actually…" she began, before she could talk herself out of it any further.

Vivien felt Royce's gaze land on her the second she stopped to clear her throat, which had become inexplicably scratchy ever since those last words had left it, clearly so reluctant to be said they'd dug their heels in the entire journey out into the cool, October air. And as soon as it did, it felt as though all her sweat glands released at once, adding a glistening sheen to her already crimson skin. Horrified, Vivien kept her gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of her to avoid having to find out if Royce had realised, and pushed her round, silver-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose in an attempt to shield herself from further embarrassment as a result of her thirteen-year-old hormones wreaking havoc in her own body.

Fearing that the longer she dragged this on, the more her subconscious would betray her, she swallowed her nerves and ploughed ahead. "Do you remember how you missed out on going to watch The NeverEnding Story this summer because you had to spend your ticket money on a new wheel for your bike?"

In her periphery, Vivien saw Royce's hand shift up to play with the fraying fabric of his backpack strap. He only ever did that when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't even have to look at him to confirm it either, the pause before he responded told her almost as much as his tone of voice did.

"...Yeah, but what does that-?"

"Hey nerds!"

Despite their disdain for the term, both Vivien and Royce's heads whipped around to try to locate the source of the voice, mentally cursing themselves for even acknowledging that the phrase could have been used to refer to them, let alone responding to it. But as green and brown eyes scanned a sparse sea of middle schoolers, searching for signs of anyone with ill-intent, they came up short.

"Over here!"

The voice, carried on the wind, drew the pair's gazes to a figure, practically standing on the bench of a rotting, wooden picnic table to try to grab their attention and their disgruntled grumblings fell from their lips within seconds of one another, replaced by fond sighs.

Bentley waved the duo towards him so spectacularly that, for all they knew, he could have been directing a plane to land. And whilst Vivien couldn't help but smile at the blond's boundless energy, she also couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with how easily Royce shelved their conversation by letting out an almost relieved: "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Vivien agreed with a forced smile and a breathy, awkward laugh to match his. Although it dropped from her face the second he turned his back to head over to the shaded seating area.

Once he was a good few paces ahead of her, and she was sure he was out of earshot, Vivien let out a frustrated huff, so hot she was surprised it didn't steam up her glasses. "Goddammit, Bentley," she muttered, shoving her library copy of Wuthering Heights into her backpack as she started trudging along behind Royce. "I almost got through it all that time."

But Bentley was none the wiser to Vivien's grand plans; too excited by his own news to consider that the pair may have been busy. And besides, the easygoing grin his older brother shot him as he approached made him none the wiser.

"You've gotta come up with something better to call us, Benny," Royce said, fondly shaking his head as he climbed the last few steps of the hill leading up to the picnic table, adorned by Bentley's friends, the contents of at least three up-turned pencil cases, and enough sheets of paper to paper mache a small child. Thankfully, the table was sheltered from the worst of the breeze, so the most that a stray gust could do was flutter the edges beneath the various, makeshift paperweights (dog-eared textbooks and unopened juice boxes) strewn across the splintering surface.

"Why? You are 'nerds'," the boy laughed as he bounced back down into his spot on the bench seat beside August.

"We are not," Royce protested.

"It got you to come over here, didn't it?" Bentley replied with a cheesy smirk.

Royce let out a slightly bitter sigh as he fumbled through a response. "Well- yeah, but it's… demeaning."

"Then why'd you respond to it?" Kona snorted, apparently more focused on selecting the right shade of crayon than bothering to look Royce in the eye as she insulted him.

The bluntness of the eleven-year-old's comment drew a snort of laughter from him before he could stop it, whether it was in amusement or incredulity though he'd never know. But the smile that threatened to envelop his disapproving frown stayed firmly in place as he said, "Because I'm so used to everyone else calling us it, that's why. And you shouldn't be contributing to the problem anyway; I thought we were all on the same side here."

"You calling us nerds, RJ?" Zack piped up with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow.

"Pot calls the kettle black," Royce smirked.

"White boy says what now?" Zack retorted with a confused frown that soon gave way to a mischievous grin the second that Royce rolled his eyes and playfully ruffled his hair, insisting through shared laughter that the boy knew what he meant.

"What are you guys doing up here?" Vivien asked with a breathy laugh of her own as she arrived at the picnic table and caught the end of the boys' friendly roughhousing.

"Having fun until you nerds showed up," Zack scoffed as he shoved Royce's chest in an attempt to get the older boy away from him. But the bubbling giggles that tumbled from his lips as Royce expressed his disdain for the name once more told everyone all they needed to know about how much he enjoyed the brunet's company - proved even further when he resorted to wrapping his arms around his torso and tackling him into a hug from his spot on the bench.

"Looks like it," Vivien noted with a bemused chuckle. "What's all this then? You writing out your own comic book or something?" she continued, gesturing to the vast collection of paper spread out before the quartet.

"We're designing our characters for this cool new game Gus brought in," Bentley raved, holding up his sheet of paper for Vivien to see. "Look at my guy, he's got a wand that's disguised as a paintbrush and this magic flute that lets him talk to animals."

"Damn, Benny, that's so cool," she grinned, marvelling at the artwork with almost as much care as the blond put into creating it.

"And look, here's the one I'm doing for Gus," Bentley continued, shuffling the papers around until he selected the right one.

"You didn't want to draw out your own?" Vivien asked the boy, whose sandy blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

"Nah; Ben's better at art," August admitted, only glancing up from his work to shoot his oblivious friend a shy smile. "And I enjoy the planning part of it more anyway," he went on to explain. "So he's doing the drawing, and I'm filling out his character sheet for him."

"Yeah, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with all that," Bentley snorted.

"This looks like a lot of work for just one game," Vivien noted, inching another piece of paper towards her and finding it covered from top to bottom in meticulously written words, numbers, and the occasional, scribbled doodle.

"Tell me about it," Kona scoffed. "I feel like we got extra math homework with this stupid number system we've got to work off of," she added with a huff that blew a straw strand of hair away from her eyes. Begrudgingly tapping the open, yellowing pages of an intricately illustrated book with the end of a pencil, she brought the thirteen-year-old's gaze to the table she was drawing from.

"You guys are willingly doing math over lunch and you're calling us nerds?" Royce asked with a teasing incredulity that earned him further, playful bickering from Zack.

"So what do you do with all this when you've created your characters then?" Vivien continued, feeling a fond smile tugging at her lips as Royce's unbridled laughter tickled her ears. Fighting the urge to swat the imagined sensation away, she focused her attention on the other children at the table. "What's this dorky wizard math game called?"

"Dungeons and Dragons," Bentley explained.

Vivien’s ears perked up. “Dungeons and Dragons? That weird roleplaying game Riven plays with his sweaty high school friends?”

“Who’s Riven?” Kona asked.

“My skating partner,” Vivien said, throwing the explanation away like a used napkin so that she could get back to the main point at hand.

“Ew, so is he like your boyfriend then?” Kona teased with a devilish wiggle of her eyebrows.

“No!” Vivien blurted, maybe a little too quickly if everyone turning to look at her was anything to go by. "No, not like… It's just- He's like my brother, ok?" she hurriedly tried to explain, trying to ignore the bile now creeping at the back of her throat the very thought alone had placed there.

"Ok," Kona snorted, smirking to herself as she caught Royce's shoulders slump in relief in her periphery. Making the ninth-graders squirm was a favourite pastime of hers, and lately, all this girlfriend-boyfriend talk around them, despite making her want to hurl, had been a homerun every time.

"I didn’t know Riven played DnD,” Bentley piped up, earning himself a grateful smile from Vivien for taking some of the heat off her.

“Neither did I until he made us switch our practice days so that he could go play pretend with a bunch of dorks out the back of Eddie 'the freak' Munson's trailer."

"Riven's in that weird Hellraiser club?" Royce asked, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"My sister says they're all devil worshippers," Zack mumbled.

"It's Hellfire," Vivien corrected. "And they're not devil worshippers - well, Riven's not anyway. As far as I know they're just losers in matching shirts who play make believe like they're still in first grade."

"It's more than just playing make believe," August dared to pipe up with a somewhat defensive frown, immediately toying with the corner of Bentley's character sheet the second the group's attention landed on him. A sideways glance in the blond's direction earned him a reassuring smile that breathed some much needed confidence into his lungs, and as he released it, he said, "There's this whole world you can build your own stories around with all these super detailed characters and a bunch of lore you can discover. I spent my whole weekend reading through the books my cousin gave me and that doesn't even cover half of it. It's like one big choose-your-own adventure story, but everyone gets a say in what happens, and gets to feel like they're a part of it."

A beaming grin and steel blue eyes, sparkling with excitement, found Royce with startling ease. "Doesn't that sound cool?!" Bentley enthused.

"...It actually does," Royce admitted, even surprising himself with his answer.

"Hear that, Auggie? You didn't even have to mention dragons to convince someone that time," Kona snickered, firing the curly haired boy beside her a smirk.

"Whatever," Zack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You thought they sounded cool too," he added with an accusatory nudge of the blonde's elbow that had her cursing him under her breath for making her pencil skim across the page.

Ignoring his friends' sibling-like arguing, so used to it by now that it honestly would have been stranger to acknowledge it, Bentley kept his attention, and his toothy grin, focused on his older brother. "I knew you'd like it! You're always borrowing those old fantasy books from the library and writing your own versions of them."

"Well- yeah, ok, but what does that have to do with this?" Royce stuttered, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment despite Vivien's small, amused smile.

"Well this is just like that! Gus wrote out our first campaign all by himself," Bentley gushed before leaning into the shying blond beside him. "That's like the story, right?" he checked in a hushed tone. And after receiving a confirmatory nod, he turned back to Royce with renewed enthusiasm. "The plot, the monsters, the bonus quests - he came up with it all!"

Bentley pushed a stack of papers towards his brother, bound by treasury tags and bearing enough ink to have drained an entire pack of ballpoint pens. "Holy shit," Royce breathed as he picked it up and began flipping through the makeshift book, becoming more and more stunned with every turn of a page. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" he asked August, who timidly nodded. "In one weekend?" Again, the boy nodded, this time a little more eagerly. And Royce could see why. "...Wow," he marvelled, smiling as he watched the younger boy swell with pride. "This is really impressive, August."

"You put some serious work into this, huh?" Vivien noted.

"Yeah, I guess," August admitted as his steadily reddening cheeks were pulled aside by an appreciative grin. "It's not like I minded though," he went on to hurriedly explain. "It all came together pretty quickly once I got into it. Plus it gave me an excuse to shut myself up in my room away from my stuffy aunt and that stupid dog she carries around in her purse," he added, earning himself a bright laugh from Bentley that completely stalled his train of thought. Luckily, it was nothing that clearing his throat and refocusing his gaze on the blond's character sheet couldn't fix though. "I guess I just thought it would be something fun for us all to do together, you know?"

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it," Vivien said with a warm smile. But there was still a little, nagging thought hammering away at the back of her head, and she feared that if she didn't use this opportunity of an out as her last-ditch attempt at getting Royce alone before the end of the school day then that nagging thought would break right through her skull and puncture her brain with its pesky little pickaxe. And she needed all the brainpower she could muster to get through this, so she did not want to take any risks. "Anyway," she continued, snagging the attention of the table of eleven-year-olds as she clapped her hands together. "We'd better let you guys get back to planning. We wouldn't want to be the reason for you guys delaying your first adventure now, would we?" she asked rhetorically, firing a knowing look across at Royce that was not-so-subtly hidden behind a theatrical grin.

If Royce picked up on the intensity behind Vivien's gaze though, he didn't show it, instead remaining as blissfully oblivious as he always seemed to be when it came to her intentions as he took his turn to offer a fond smile to the table of his brother's friends. "You'll have to let us know how it goes," he said, before adding with a chuckle: "I'm invested now; it sounds awesome."

Breathing out a sigh of relief between her teeth as Royce rounded the picnic table to join her, Vivien kept her almost clown-like smile plastered to her face as she thanked whatever great powers were at work for making Royce ever so slightly more perceptive than the other, gormless teenage boys in their class. But just as she was inching her way back down the hill, and readying her opening line for the brunet once they were out of earshot of the eager little gremlins, one of them piped up with a perfectly pointed pin to burst her bubble.

"Why don't you just play with us then?"

Bentley's wide-eyed, hopeful grin was the only thing keeping Vivien from snatching up Kona's muddy jump rope and strangling him with it. Besides the years upon years of sibling-like friendship, obviously.

Forcing out a strained laugh, she managed a tight, "It's alright, Benny, we don't want to crash your fun."

"You're not crashing anything; we want you to join in. Right, guys?"

Ok, so Bentley can't read social cues… Good to know.

It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Vivien could have known about that before she set the wheels of her master plan into motion though, because right now she felt like they were so out of sync they were about to derail the handcar she'd strapped this grand idea of hers to. But even if she could have brought herself to get mad at Bentley, Zack jumped to the blond's defence before she even had the chance.

"Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get because Kona can't add up for shit and I'm not about to let my guy Omar Scale Crusher die after I've spent all this time working out his stats."

"I can't add up for shit?! What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who got put in Math 2!"

"Only for a week! And I totally got a better grade than you on that test last week."

"No you didn't!"

"Did too!"

"Bite me!"

As the pair energetically bickered about Zack's accusations, which Kona steadfastly claimed were built on entirely false foundations, Vivien found her frustration with the picnic table occupants crumbling away. After all, they weren't to know that she'd been practising for this lunchtime conversation with Royce for weeks. How could they? The only others she'd confided in were her three skating friends and the balding Big Bird stuffed animal from the end of her bed that had taken on the role of Royce during her many rehearsals. And she couldn't blame them for their excitement over the game either; even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cool. Plus, after hearing Riven rhapsodise about Hellfire's epic campaigns for weeks now, she was starting to get a little curious about the game and how it was played.

"Omar Scale Crusher, huh?" she eventually chuckled, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zack that soon ground his and Kona's squabbling to a halt. "How'd you come up with that?"

"Isn't it sick? Auggie had this big list of names with cool meanings to help us decide."

After shuffling through the endless sheets of paper around him, August found the right one and went on to explain for a very enthusiastic Zack: "Omar means 'one who has a long life'."

"Yeah, so he'd better live up to his damn name! I'm not planning this whole thing out to have him die in the first round," he declared with a hearty laugh, before tagging on: "Plus my uncle's called Omar and he's awesome."

Vivien couldn't help her snort of laughter at the blunt innocence. "Very creative," she noted. "What is he then? Like a viking or something?"

"No, he's a wizard," Zack stated matter-of-factly. "'Cause why would I bother using a sword when I could just kill an enemy with magic?"

"How come your guy's holding a sword then?"

Royce's frank delivery, from over the younger boy's shoulder, had a laugh spurting from between Vivien's lips before she could stop it. And Bentley, August, and Kona were all quick to follow suit.

However, as to be expected, the brash brunet soon scrambled a retaliation. "Well I'd still want one for backup."

"No duh," Kona chuckled as she finished shading in the metallic sheath of the dagger her character clutched in a leather clad fist. "Magic or not, you still need a weapon."

"Is your character a wizard too then?" Vivien asked Kona, but the incredulous snort the blonde let out could have told her all she needed to know on its own.

"No, Andromeda doesn't need to rely on magic to keep herself out of danger; her dexterity's off the charts."

Before another argument could break out between Zack and Kona as a result of her roundabout dig at him, August decided to speak for the table. "Zack’s our mage, Kona's our thief, Ben's our Bard and my guy's a ranger."

"But you're the dungeon master too, right?" Bentley checked, mischievous blue eyes peeking out from beneath furrowed bows.

August's own eyes were drawn to Bentley's the second that he'd opened his mouth, but the smirk tugging at his friend's lips was what captured his attention. "What's so funny?" he challenged through a chuckle that coaxed one out of Bentley too. "You don't think I could be a dungeon master?"

"I never said that," Bentley laughed. But the look the boys shared meant they both knew that's what his tone had implied.

"You didn't have to."

"Well can you blame me? It just sounds so menacing and scary. I know you read all those horror books and stuff, but come on, you're about as intimidating as Winnie the Pooh - who, last time I checked, was still tucked under your comforter next to your pillow and your old baby blanket."

Jaw dropped in incredulity, August lightly elbowed Bentley in the ribs. "I can so be intimidating," he retorted. But if he was pretending to be mad at the boy, his true feelings were soon revealed by the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"Yeah, well, we've yet to see it," Kona bluntly noted, which once again set Royce and Vivien off giggling at the sixth graders.

"You sound like you've got a pretty well-rounded group then," Royce carried on, drawing the conversation back to August's point from earlier. "Are there even any roles left for us? Or are we going to have to start doubling up?"

"You can double up if you want, but there's still a bunch of classes that haven't been picked yet," August explained, flipping through the large book spread out before him until he got to the right page. "We've not got a druid, a cleric, or a fighter."

"What does a fighter do?" Royce asked.

"Fighters are weapons-oriented warriors, who fight using skill, strategy, and tactics," August recited from his handbook, bringing the group's attention to the detailed illustration of an armoured swordsman, wielding what looked to be an incredibly heavy shield with almost no effort at all.

The second Vivien's eyes met the page she knew it was game over; her imagination kicked into overdrive and tossed all other thoughts about how she could have been spending this lunchtime to the curb. Racing at a million miles an hour, her brain plucked ideas from seemingly thin air and began piecing together a muscular young woman, strong enough to knock an ox clean off its feet in one quick shove, although you'd never know it since her frame was cleverly disguised in roughened leather padding, tarnished silver armour, and rich, violet robes fashioned into a sort of cape. Her face was weathered, but kind, and her vibrant, emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and the promise of adventure. Like the picture in August's book, the woman carried a large, battle-scarred sword by its ornate handle, and kept a hefty shield vigilantly by her side, painted in, again, deep shades of indigo, violet, and the blood of her enemies, naturally. She also had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder though, nestled beside a crossbow, just peeking out from behind a head of flowing, chestnut locks. The heroine had no time for preening, so her hair was tousled with grease and grime from combatting the elements on her journeys, but as it fluttered in the wind, it was kept away from her face by intricate braids, weighed down by silver rings and stolen jewels of amethyst and topaz. She smiled at Vivien from the forefront of her mind, as if marking her territory there, and Vivien felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed out a quiet, and hopefully nonchalant: "Hmm…cool."

"That sounds like a good one for you, Viv. Strategy and tactics? You're great with planning stuff out," Royce noted. But one glance in her direction and his face broke into a knowing smile the second he clocked her eyes, glazed over in thought, and lips, parted in awe.

"Yeah, and look, you'd make a great cleric," Bentley continued, pulling Royce's gaze away from Vivien, albeit reluctantly. Flipping the page of August's handbook, he excitedly tapped at a drawing of a tall man, draped in heavy, fur pelts and bronzed chainmail. A glowing staff was held in one hand, and a massive axe was thrown over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sack of flour.

"Clerics are versatile figures, both capable in combat and skilled in the use of divine magic," August recited from the page after a light, nudge from Bentley. "They're also powerful healers."

"See? That's perfect for you! You're always helping patch us up if we fall off our bikes," Bentley enthused, undeterred by the amused chuckles that his brother unleashed as a result of what he thought was an adorably innocent explanation.

"Yeah, and we could use a healer on our team, especially with those two and their lack of impulse control," August snorted as he gestured to Kona and Zack, who jumped at the chance to express their indignation.

As the group of friends returned to jovially bickering amongst themselves, Royce and Vivien's minds were quietly whirring with ideas. Ideas which, upon glancing at one another, they soon realised were all too perfectly aligned.

"What do you say then, losers?" Kona finally asked once she'd finished fighting her ground against the boys, snapping the eighth-graders out of their heads and bringing them back to reality with a knowing smirk. "Are you playing with us or not?"

Royce, as always, left the decision to Vivien. But the hopeful glimmer in his caramel eyes, paired with her own, itching curiosity made that decision all too easy. And besides, even if she wasn't spending time alone with Royce, she was still spending time with him. And that was good enough for her.

…For now.

"Well… I guess one game couldn't hurt, right?" she said with a smirk that soon broke out into a grin as Bentley's face lit up like a firework display. And it only grew when she glanced across at Royce for one last confirmation that she'd made the right decision, only to find him beaming with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother.

If this nerdy little game brought Royce this much joy, and was even half as much fun as it sounded, then Vivien knew it would be worth another few hours of crippling anxiety. Besides, she hoped that she could immerse herself in the story so much that she'd forget all about her predicament with the brunet anyway. But as they took their places at the picnic table, and Royce's sneaker brushing against her shin shot a jolt of adrenaline up her leg with such a force that she almost jumped straight back out of her seat, she knew that that was just wishful thinking. Covering up the brief waver in her cool, confident exterior with a quiet cough, she tried to refocus her mind on the endless streams of information August was unleashing on the pair of them.

"-and so the group our characters all belong to is called The Circle of the Emerald Torches, but part of the first campaign is about how we get our name, so I'll explain more about that later. Before you start, and before I give you your character sheets though, if you want to be in our party then you'll need to recite the Oath of Noble Heroes so that we know you're serious about this."

"Don't worry, we had to do it too. But it's so cool, you'll love it! And then there's a declaration of loyalty for you to sign somewhere too," Bentley tagged on before the boys started animatedly babbling amongst themselves about the ins and outs of their party's rules again.

Shaking his head at the pair, Royce took the opportunity of them being distracted to lean over to Vivien and teasingly chuckle, "What the hell have you just gotten us into?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, knowing that his enthusiasm for the game was a major driving factor in her decision to play, and that he was also well-aware of that fact, she looked him square in the face and hid her smirk behind a deadly serious, blank expression, "I'm pretty sure we just joined a cult."

American History, Volume 2, lay open on page 38. And it had laid there like that for the past 45 minutes, having been abandoned by its current owner almost as soon as it had been removed from their backpack. Because instead of completing the assigned history homework, the desk's occupant was using their study hall period much more wisely: by shredding a solo, courtesy of Ozzy Osbourne, on possibly the most prestigious instrument of all: the air guitar.

Ethan's eyes slid shut, and a blissful smile curled his lips as he mashed the volume button on his Walkman with practised ease. Bar after bar of 'Crazy Train' pounded through his skull at a staggering volume, rattling what little of his brain was left in the mostly vacant space between his ears, helped along by the bopping of his head in time with the song's beat. When his fingers weren't plucking out riffs on imaginary strings, they were banging out the drumline on a drum kit that was just as real as his Gibson SG. And all the while, he was passionately miming the lyrics for his audience of the pencil shavings and dust mites that hugged the wall beside his desk.

He felt the music in his bones. The bass line pumped through his veins. Every note that was played resonated through the chambers of his heart until it felt like the song was as much a part of him as his left arm. And the deeper he let himself sink into the music, the less aware of his surroundings he became - or the less he cared to remember them anyway. Until a sharp elbow to the ribs shattered his rockstar illusions, that is.

Bleary brown eyes met earnest, steel blue, and held nothing but confusion for the several seconds it took him to realise that Miles’ mouth was moving without making a sound.

“What?” Ethan bellowed, prying a wailing headphone speaker away from his ears as he leaned closer to the exasperated brunet.

“Jesus, man!” Miles exclaimed under his breath as he reached across to his friend’s Walkman to frantically turn the volume down. “Are you trying to blow your eardrums out or something?”

“That would be pretty metal, so maybe,” Ethan chuckled, entirely unphased. But Miles’ disapproving frown soon had him rolling out an explanation. “You’ve got a front row seat for my biggest show yet and you’re choosing to lecture me about volume control? I can care about my hearing when I’m in the retirement home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you make it to a retirement home," Miles snorted. "You've got the survival skills of a two dollar house plant."

Instead of arguing back, or even rolling his eyes at his best friend's dig, Ethan just continued chuckling along in agreement as he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck - still blaring out Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, although they were only just audible over the hubbub of chatter and laughter that filled the rest of the classroom. "What were you saying before anyway?" he went on to ask. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, the answer to number four."

"Pfft, you think I've even made it past one?" Ethan guffawed, astonished and highly amused that Miles thought highly enough of him to assume he hadn't been shirking his responsibilities all afternoon. "I've got no fucking clue. What chapter are we on again? Abraham Lincoln?"

The mix of despair and disbelief Ethan was faced with when he glanced back across at Miles told him his guess might not have been as accurate as he'd pitched it to be. "...Are we not on Abraham Lincoln?"

"We haven't done Abraham Lincoln since freshman year," Miles deadpanned before letting out a chuckle of his own. "When was the last time you actually paid attention in one of Mr Bishop's classes?"

"Probably freshman year," Ethan noted with a laugh, slumping back in his seat and starting to rock on the back two legs of the flimsy, plastic chair. "I think the only chance I've got at retaining any of the information in that textbook for this month's pop quiz is if I eat it."

The look of reproach Miles shot the carefree stoner could have fooled any passerby into thinking that he was the boy's father, but he blamed that on the past however many years of having to act as a sole parental figure for two young boys - who, on several occasions, had actually proved to be far more mature than the lank-haired brunet before him. More often than not, Ethan felt like a third child he had to keep alive. And somehow, his lack of height was not one of the driving factors behind that reasoning.

"Oh come on, don't give me that look," Ethan groaned, ever the resentful teenager in their relationship. "You've not exactly been Mr Studious yourself today."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well you've been stuck on that same question for the last twenty minutes 'cause you keep making goo-goo eyes at you know who," Ethan smirked as Miles' eyes widened in horror and his forehead started to prickle with sweat.

"No I don't," he indignantly tried.

"I thought you said you were over her," Ethan teased.

"I am! It's not like that anyway," Miles muttered, then added. "And it's not been twenty minutes."

"It totally has."

"How the hell would you know? You've been listening to Motorhead since we sat down."

"Yeah but my fuckin' eyes still work," Ethan snorted, hitting Miles with a loving grin that had him rolling his eyes before Ethan had even finished his sentence. And yet, the boy's frustration did nothing to deter him from probing further. "What's the stalking for this time then? You know, if you're not trying to get in her pants anymore."

Miles was at as much of a loss as Ethan. His eyes found the head of bouncing, blonde curls with almost no effort at all (likely a result of an entire study hall period of practice), searching for some sort of answer. But all he found was a dull, fluttering in his chest.

Even the giddy, lovestruck butterfly that had been trapped in there for months seemed to have admitted defeat.

Still, his gaze never wavered. He watched airy laughter spill from her glossy lips, and her nose crinkle beneath brilliantly blue eyes, framed by thick, black lashes and copious amounts of mascara. Whilst before, Miles could have eaten through a movie theatre's entire popcorn supply and still want to look just a little longer, in that moment he just felt empty. And that’s when he realised it wasn't actually Carrie herself that was occupying his mind, it was everyone else around her, and how she was treating them. Plucking a proudly presented flyer for a house party from one, impishly teasing another, waving at Sharon Frye on her way out the door, firing a flirty wink in jest at Steve Harrington after giggling at one of his jokes…

Miles was certain she'd looked at every other person in that room at least once since their study hall period had begun, and yet the closest her eyes had ventured over to him was when she glanced at the clock on the wall. Every thought in his head was plagued by her smile, or her voice, or her laugh… Had he ever even crossed her mind?

"Do you think she actually cares about us?"

Miles hadn't been able to bring himself to tear his forlorn gaze from the blonde in question, but that didn't stop Ethan from snorting out an answer. "Well yeah, I'd hope so; we spend enough time with her."

"Not by choice," Miles huffed.

“Well she talks to us now, and that’s more than we could have said before we worked with her, so that’s got to count for something,” Ethan chuckled. “But if this is about what I think it’s about, then she absolutely cares about you, dude. Like way more than the rest of us.”

“You really think so?”

“Dude, it’s like you two are glued at the hip. I can’t get you away from each other for shit once we close every night,” Ethan replied. And when Miles still looked unsure, he added, “Why else do you think I always get stuck cleaning the kitchen with Mick? She hates my guts!”

“No she does not,” Miles softly chuckled.

“Well I definitely don’t think she likes me, not like Carrie likes you anyway,” he retorted with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, man. There’s something there. There’s no way she’d laugh at your crappy jokes like she does if she didn’t at least have a little interest in you - I don’t care if Mick thinks it’s bullshit, I know I’m right.”

Miles just rolled his eyes, but a hopeful smile desperately pulled at his lips, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. “I don’t know, I think she probably just does it to be nice,” he mused, watching as Carrie animatedly responded to Rachel Price before turning back to resume her conversation with the girl sat beside her - the very girl that Miles still had an irrepressible urge to swap lives with: Juliet Harmon. Now faced with nothing but the back of her head, he quickly lost interest in the view. “…She seems to act like that with most people.”

“She definitely does not, man. Why do you think the entire marching band is scared to look her in the eye? She’s like one of the biggest bitches in school,” Ethan scoffed. But he paused when he realised Miles wasn’t laughing along with him. “Why does it matter how she acts around other people anyway?”

“It doesn’t,” Miles huffed. “…Not really.”

But the second he dared to make eye contact with his oldest friend, the floodgates opened and the truth came tumbling out.

“I just…feel stupid for letting her get in my head, and for actually thinking that we had something special - that I was somehow different to all the other idiots who throw themselves at her to get a second of her attention. But here I am, thinking about her constantly, hanging onto every interaction we have like my fucking life depends on it, only for her to… Ugh, I don't know. I just…don't want it all to not mean anything to her, when it means so much to me - no matter how much I try to convince myself it doesn't. I mean, yeah, she's nice to me at work - really nice - but she barely even acknowledges me outside of All Skate… It's like I don't even exist, like she doesn't even realise I'm there. And it makes me feel like shit."

"She barely acknowledges anyone," Ethan absentmindedly mused. "I wouldn't take it personally."

"That's a lot easier said than done," Miles huffed dejectedly. There was something freeing about Ethan's nonchalance over Miles' feelings though; it made them feel less suffocating. And whilst he still felt entirely hopeless about the situation, he did feel a little bit of the pressure ease off as he rested his chin on his hand and let his mind start to wander. "...You think she actually considers us friends?"

"Sure; she calls us her work friends all the time."

"No but like her actual friends," Miles clarified.

"Dude, I don't fucking know; the female mind is a mystery to me at the best of times, but hers is on a whole other level," Ethan scoffed in incredulity. "Do you not remember that like thirty minute debate I had with her about diet sodas? Actual insanity.”

Miles' quiet chuckling as he reminisced about what had started as an innocent question, yet progressed to a full-blown screaming match, with each participant equally as confused and frustrated as the other, was soon silenced by Ethan's next prompt though. "I know a way you can find out though…"

"...No!"

"Oh come on, man. Don't be a sissy. It'll be so easy. And then you can stop getting hung up on all these bogus hypotheticals."

Miles' initial horror slowly dissipated as Ethan's reasoning started to lure out a far greater force from its hiding place in the corner of his brain: his curiosity. "...You really think I can just go up and talk to her? In class?" he asked, as his eyes once again found that jumble of golden curls.

"Sure, why not? It's only study hall."

Again, Ethan's nonchalance, which was only heightened by the fact that he was trying to balance a pen on his curled upper lip as he responded, did far more for Miles' confidence than any pep talk of his own could have. And besides, maybe he was onto something - maybe it really was that simple; it always was in his world.

"It wouldn't be weird?" Miles double-checked.

"Why would it be weird? All you're gonna do is talk to her. And we already established you two are friends, so what could go wrong?"

Miles shuddered at the very thought. "So much."

Ethan glanced across at him, ready to fire out further encouragement like a sixth grader with a penchant for making spitballs, but when he clocked his friend's nervous fidgeting, he reconsidered his situation and gained a little clarity. "Ok…yeah, fine, stuff could go wrong. But are you gonna die?" he proposed.

"No," Miles begrudgingly mumbled.

"Are you gonna break something?"

"No, but-"

"Then how bad can it be?" Ethan cut in with a lopsided, optimistic grin before Miles could tie himself up in any more self-conscious knots. "Just get over there and scratch that itch that's been bugging you for weeks; it's not gonna stop until you do. And you'll feel so much better after."

It took Miles by surprise every time it happened, but yet again, it seemed as though Ethan might actually be…right. This question of Carrie's loyalty had been eating away at him for weeks now. And, as he'd stressed earlier, it was making him feel shittier and shittier with every day he let it drag on. Asking her outright was a definite way to get his answer… It was just going to require him growing some balls, as anything to do with All Skate's resident disc jockey apparently made his own shrink to the size of peas.

"...Just walk over and talk to her?" Miles checked. Although, between us, he was just stalling to give himself more time to muster some courage.

"Yeah, as a friend," Ethan confirmed.

"You really think I can pull that off?" Miles asked with a dubious, but hopeful quirk of his eyebrow that had Ethan melting like a bomb pop that had been left out in the 4th of July sun.

"Absolutely," he grinned, totally enamoured by his friend's giddy trepidation, and the promise of a relationship he so steadfastly defended. "She's got a major soft spot for you, man. I see it like every night," he went on to reassure. "There's no way she's gonna blow you off. You'll be fine."

And as a result of that dopey grin, complemented by the ratty, chestnut locks, and vacant, dark chocolate eyes… Miles believed him.

"...Ok, I'm going in," he breathed through a determined smile.

"Atta boy," Ethan chuckled, fist-bumping Miles before tipping his chair back onto all four of its legs again, as though to signal the resolution of their predicament. "Go scratch that itch," he added, finishing their little handshake with a bolstering point before lifting his headphones back over his ears and disappearing back into his wildest rock star fantasies - totally oblivious to the disaster about to unfold right behind him as Miles took a deep breath and waded into the wild, uncharted waters of the female mindset.

"So now that we know that y=7, we plug that into this side of the function, that we've already simplified, to give us this…which then means that we can carry this over here, giving us x=3."

…Silence.

"Right?" Juliet checked, although the satisfied smile that had settled on her carnation pink lips as soon as she finished the sum was beginning to falter into one of desperation as she turned to her tutee. "Did you follow along ok that time?"

But all Juliet was met with was a glassy stare and an infatuated grin, smushed between two fists as its owner rested their chin on their palms. "You're so smart, Julie," Carrie breathed.

Juliet just rolled her eyes, although she did little to hide the bashful blush tickling her cheeks. “Never mind that, did you understand how I worked it out that time?”

"...Kind of?" Carrie tried, offering a lopsided, hopeful grin to try to lessen the blow.

If Juliet's exasperated huff was anything to go by though: it didn't work. But her frustration dissolved the second that she met Carrie's gaze. "Where did I lose you?" she asked with a gentle, patient sigh.

"The whole reversing the function bit," Carrie admitted as she bit her lip and braced herself for Juliet's reaction. Although the blonde's expression never wavered, the dismay that flashed in her eyes soon had Carrie barrelling through an explanation. "I swear I was getting it before that this time, but then it all started to sound like you were talking in another language, and then I got distracted by that pretty way you write out the 'x' again, and then I just…"

"...Stopped listening all together?" Juliet teasingly offered with a fond smirk.

Carrie scoffed in mock-defence. "No, I listened the whole time, I just stopped taking it in," she went on to clarify. But as soon as she drew a giggle from Juliet's lips she melted into that same infatuated grin from earlier as she admitted, "I'd never stop listening to you. You know I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Even about algebra?" Juliet teasingly tested with an affectionate smile of her own.

"Of course about algebra," Carrie gushed with a glittering honesty that soon had Juliet giggling again. "Believe it or not, this is the most I've ever understood a math module," she carried on, straightening up in her seat to help give her point a little more credibility, before tagging on a jovial, "And it's all thanks to you, smarty pants."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's so lame," Juliet protested, hiding her smile behind a frank eye roll. "And besides, I'm not that smart."

"You so are; you're like the smartest person I know," Carrie gushed, never one to let her friends downplay their successes, much to Juliet's disgruntlement. The blonde's frown didn't deter Carrie from continuing to lovingly babble straight through her stream of consciousness though. "That brain of yours has to be huge - no wonder you get headaches all the time, it's because it doesn't have enough space in there."

Carrie's knack for making herself giggle never failed to make Juliet smile, but yet again she found herself trying to cover it up with a bashful roll of her hazel irises as she let out a sigh and attempted to get their conversation back on track. "You wanna try another question then?"

"Don't try to change the subject," Carrie fired back with a mischievous grin.

"I'm not, you are!" Juliet retorted, biting back an incredulous laugh. "We're supposed to be doing algebra, not Juliet 101."

Carrie's mischievous grin only broadened. "Now that's a class I might actually get an A in."

Rolling her eyes for the third time at her best friend's antics, Juliet teasingly tried, "What? Not an A+?"

"Maybe," Carrie smirked. "But then again, I might get distracted by my teacher." Her wiggling eyebrows soon had Juliet reprimanding her and attempting to draw her focus back to her school work, but Carrie's mind was already wandering off too far down a different path altogether. "...Do you think you'd ever wanna be a doctor, Julie?"

The comment, that fell slap-bang in the middle of Juliet's offer to rewrite the steps of the previous algebra equation, baffled her into silence - so taken aback by the suggestion that she almost thought she'd misheard the golden-haired girl. "What? No," she spluttered, looking at Carrie as though she'd just sprouted a third nose. "Where did that come from?"

Juliet's confusion didn't seem to faze Carrie though, because her dreamy smile stuck it out through her whole, rambling explanation. "I don't know, I just figured you should use your big brain for a job one day. You know, like one that actually actually makes you think instead of just like a working a cash register, or stacking books or something. And you need to be super smart to be a doctor, so…"

Juliet was quick to shoot down Carrie's optimistic grin. "I do not have what it takes to be a doctor, trust me."

"Sure you do," Carrie defended. "I'd let you be my doctor."

"Oh well then hand me my diploma," Juliet sarcastically replied, once more fondly rolling her eyes and chuckling at her best friend's enamoured stare and incessant bolstering.

"I'm serious," Carrie pressed on though, determined to get through to Juliet despite her doubtful smirk. "I'd trust you with my life, you know I would. I'd let you save my life any day of the week," she grinned. But, after giggling to herself and absentmindedly twirling her pencil between her fingers, when she finally latched onto Juliet's hazel gaze again, only to find it significantly less jovial, it was her turn to express her confusion. "What? You don't believe me?" she teasingly challenged, with a quirk of an eyebrow.

But Juliet still didn't seem to be in the mood to joke back, as her lips fell in line with the horizon and her gaze darted to Carrie's right before finding her again.

Ok, now Carrie was really confused.

"Huh?" she murmured, clearly not as in tune with her best friend's thoughts as she assumed she was.

However, this time, Juliet flicked her eyes to Carrie's right with a touch more resolve, and paired it with a slight, but very purposeful nod of her head in the same direction. And finally, Carrie seemed to get the message.

Following Juliet's line of sight, Carrie turned to look over her shoulder, only to find herself face to face with a person that almost caught her off guard as much as Juliet's sudden shift in dynamic had. "Oh," was the first word to jump from her lips, startling her back into what Juliet lovingly dubbed as 'show-mode' as she rolled her shoulders back and fixed a brilliant smile to her face. "Hey, Miles."

The second that Carrie acknowledged Miles, any confidence he'd managed to trick himself into conjuring fled. And whilst he had a Herculean urge to do the same, he too plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile to his face as he finished his approach to the blondes' shared desk. "Hey, Carrie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief for even managing to get the words out. And yet, he still pushed a little further to add, with a nod of acknowledgement too, "Juliet."

The entertained smirk that started pulling at the corner of Juliet's lips in response caught him off guard, and he felt his stomach gently clench in defence. But he chose to ignore it, returning his gaze to Carrie's bright smile - its familiarity putting him back at ease and igniting that usual fire in his chest that sent warmth spreading throughout his-

Wait, why was she turning back around?

"Right, where were we?" Carrie said, dazzling Juliet with a grin as she readied her pencil on the page. "I've got a good feeling about this next one; I think if you just take it slow-."

"Ahem," Juliet interrupted. Her gaze caught Carrie's once again and held onto it for a beat before she tilted her head forwards, signalling with her eyes that there was still something - or rather, someone - behind her. The confusion, almost disbelief, swimming in Carrie's eyes made Juliet have to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and locking onto Miles' look of bewildered dismay just made it even harder. But luckily, Carrie was quickly able to decipher her visual message once again, with little prompting this time.

Turning around to find that, to her surprise, Miles hadn't just been greeting her as he passed by her desk, he was, in fact, standing there - well, expectantly shuffling from foot to foot anyway - Carrie remounted her smile. Although now, Miles realised, it wasn't so welcoming. It felt almost…uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry. Did you want something?" she offered.

He did - desperately so. And yet, he felt as though the sudden shift in tone had already started to write out his answer.

The hairs on the back of his neck started to twitch as the walls of his stomach steadily closed in tighter. But, determined to stand by his heart, and prove to himself (and Mick) that his feelings weren't all built on fantasies he'd created in his head, he brushed the unease away and stood his ground. "No, not really. I just thought I'd…stop by…see how it's going."

Carrie's smile faltered again, giving way to further confusion. "...See how what's going?"

"...Study hall?" Miles said. But the response came out as more of a question than an answer, which he supposed was down to the fact that he wasn't even sure of it himself. And despite his hopeful grin, which he feared was now looking more like a grimace, he couldn't seem to stop trying to rub the growing discomfort from the back of his neck.

God, he hoped that he didn't have any sweat stains.

"Oh, uh, it's going fine," Carrie politely replied. Although her awkward fidgeting with her pencil's eraser told a different story. "We're just going through the algebra homework."

It was weird; it wasn't as though the conversation was making her seem 'off', it was like…the very fact he was talking to her was so distracting she couldn't settle. She was the centre of Miles' universe. And apparently he was just an asteroid in hers: a misshapen hunk of space rock, hurtling past in the blink of an eye, and completely blindsiding her with his very insignificant existence.

A fellow asteroid must have collided with him at some point, because he could feel this weird twinge in his chest, by his heart, almost as though the impact had chipped a corner off. He swallowed thickly, pushing the creeping discomfort away. "The one for Mr Moreno's class?"

"Mhm," Carrie confirmed with a nod.

"Oh, nice…" Miles trailed off with an awkward chuckle and what he feared was now looking like a rather desperate smile. And he was sure his expression only got worse when his gaze was pulled off-course by Juliet, who gave him a look that made him want to give up altogether. How her hazel irises had managed to harness the ability to hiss 'you are totally blowing this' in his ear, he had no idea. And yet, the urge to prove her (and everyone else) wrong gave him the motivation to plough on. "Well, if you still need any help with it later, I don't mind going through some of the answers with you at wo-"

"It's alright," Carrie bluntly cut in, slicing out a chunk of Miles' self-esteem as she did so. "Julie's got it covered," she added, turning to dazzle the blonde with a brilliant grin.

By the time that grin made its way around to Miles though, it felt cold. And it seemed suppressed, like she hadn't really wanted him to see it. What he feared was the beginnings of a smirk were tugging at the corners of her lips too. And whilst he wanted to believe that it wasn't at his expense - some cruel inside joke the pair of blondes had whispered with their oh-so talkative eyes in the second that Carrie's back was turned - something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.

"Thanks though," Carrie lazily tacked on, with a brightness in her tone that just felt hollow to Miles now.

"No problem," he breathed. But there was a problem, and he was staring right at her.

Miles tried to find it in him to mean the smile he sent her, but he just couldn't. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a simple conversation between 'friends' had left him feeling more insecure than ever. Why was she so difficult to talk to? And was she making it so difficult? If they'd been at All Skate, cleaning the rink after their shift, he'd have had no trouble talking to her - their conversations flowed like the Mississippi River when it was just the two of them. And yet here, he felt like he was trying to coax water out of a rusty garden tap in the peak of a summer drought.

He couldn't find the words to piece together what he wanted to ask - he didn't think such a sentence existed, not one that he could construct anyway. Carrie seemed hellbent on getting rid of him, which did nothing for his creeping fear that she was only nice to him at work because she had no other option for company. And the damn heat radiating from Juliet's pitying smirk had so much sweat running down his back he contemplated running to the nearest bathroom to wring out his underwear.

And somehow, those glittering, sky blue eyes of hers still threw him a line - a glimmer of hope to cling to. After all, she'd surprised him before - countless times - maybe she'd be able to do it again.

Just as Miles was moving to open his mouth to try one last time though, he was beaten to it.

"Was there anything else you wanted? Or was that it?"

Any hopes of a redemption for the blonde were snatched from Miles' grasp, and the reality of it felt like a punch to the gut. Thoroughly deflated, he accepted his fate with a heavy sigh. It may not have been the outcome he wanted, but at least he had an answer now, and there was a silver lining to that, he supposed.

"...No," he breathed through a forlorn, but relieved smile. "That was…that was all."

Miles felt he must have imagined the concern that flickered in Carrie's gaze - wishful thinking, he supposed - because the airy giggle and laidback grin she flashed him certainly didn't marry up with it. "Oh, alright then. See you later!" she chirped with a wave as he started the walk of shame back to his desk. Again, just as he was turning back to offer a farewell of his own though, she managed to get her words in first. "Don't forget your thick socks."

Miles stopped in his tracks. Now he was more confused than ever. The cheeky glint in her eyes, the knowing smile, the reference to a throwaway joke from their closing shift last night… Everything he'd just come to terms with about her vehement disinterest in him had been called into question with those five, simple words, and a wink that just about made his heart stop.

…Maybe she did really care after all.

With his heart leaping up from its dejected slumber, Miles shot her a grateful smile and chuckled an earnest, "I won't." Breathing out a contented sigh, mind already racing with ways to talk to her about this more that evening, Miles finally felt his shoulders relax as he raised the hand that had been rubbing the back of his neck his whole time. "See you la-"

Nevermind, she'd already turned around to talk to Juliet again.

Again the brunet was flummoxed. The only thing he felt truly confident about as he slunk back to his desk was the very thing he'd been warned of before wading into that mess: the female mind was a mystery. And he had never felt further from figuring it out.

Turning back to Juliet, Carrie couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle under her breath. "That was weird," she noted, tilting her head in the direction of her retreating co-worker.

But Juliet's eyes had never left the bumbling brunet. "Mmm… He's kind of cute," she mused. Although her prompting smirk was lost on her tutee, since her sapphire gaze was immediately pulled to the back of Miles' head.

"Yeah." Carrie's breathed response fell from her lips with startling ease, so much so that it even surprised herself. Hoping to catch it before it slipped into Juliet's ears though, she shook the starry-eyed gaze from her head and scrambled together a cover-up. "Uh, yeah? I can try to set the two of you up if you want. You know, put in a good word at work and stuff."

If she expected Juliet to accept her optimistic offer with open arms though, she was soon proved wrong.

"Yeah something tells me he's not interested in me," she snorted.

Carrie looked at her, perplexed. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't he be? You're like a total babe."

"Oh come on, Carrie. Please tell me you know that he's got a major crush on you," Juliet said with an almost disapproving frown. "Like major major."

Carrie scoffed at the accusation. "It's not major," she tried, rolling her eyes in a further attempt to downplay the gravity of what Juliet was implying.

"Carrie," Juliet pressed as she knitted her brows. "The guy could barely speak."

Caving under the blonde's hardened gaze, Carrie let out a resentful huff. "Ok fine, so he's got a little crush," she finally conceded. "What's so bad about that? It's not like anything's gonna happen; he knows I've got a boyfriend."

"Mhm… And what does Eric have to say about Miles?"

Carrie rolled her eyes so hard Juliet thought for a second that they might never come back down again. "Why does it matter?" she groaned, her skin prickling with irritation.

"Well he's not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being understanding about you hanging out with other guys," Juliet sighed, with a sneaking suspicion that her tutee's frustration had been triggered by the mention of her boyfriend's name alone: a welcome sign that their relationship was as healthy as ever. Not.

Carrie scoffed as a bitter scowl settled into place. "It's not like I'm 'hanging out with him', we just work together. I barely talk to him during my shift anyway, only when we're clearing stuff up at the end."

"Oh yeah?" Juliet started, curiosity piqued. "And what happens then?"

"Nothing!" Carrie insisted. "We just talk - you know me, I can't keep my mouth shut even when I want to, so of course I'm gonna talk to the guy." Letting out a sigh to try to blow off some steam, she softened under Juliet's gaze and allowed the blonde to lead her through her haze of thoughts. And if Juliet's gentle nudge in the right direction wasn't already enough to do the trick, one glance at Miles' retreating form completely burst the dam. "We've been talking for like the whole last hour of every shift since I started - about school, movies, whatever really - it's like the only thing in that dump that's worth sticking around for. I kind of just did it because I was bored out of my mind at the start, but turns out he's actually really fun, and sweet too - you wouldn't believe some of the stuff he does for his little brothers, Julie; I've literally gone and cried in the break room before after he was telling me about it. It's that cute."

"You cry at everything," Juliet countered with a fond, teasing chuckle.

"Oh come on, not everything," Carrie retorted. Naively hoping that their conversation on the matter had ended there, she let her eyes settle on Juliet's again, only for them to inch open the floodgates once more with a simple bat of her lashes and a tilt of her head. "We just talk and…goof around," she tentatively began - defensive, despite her nonchalance. "You know, make each other laugh about weird things customers have said, or stupid things we did. It's not like we're fooling around or anything. And before you say it, because I know that face: no, I am not leading him on. It's all totally platonic, I swear."

"Ok…" Juliet softly trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words before raising her next point. "Does Miles know it's all 'totally platonic'?"

Carrie let out a groan of despair, as she always did when her best friend lovingly lectured her. "I don't know, Jules. I'm not a mindreader. He's not grabbed my ass or spiked my water bottle, if that's what you're getting at," she grumbled, before promising, "I've got it all under control, I swear."

Somehow, Juliet didn't seem to be buying it; as impervious to Carrie's confident charm as ever.

"So Eric's totally chill about this whole thing with Miles?" she tested, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"He knows I work with him…" Carrie mumbled.

Juliet nodded understandingly - almost too understandingly - in Carrie's periphery.

"...And does he know how he makes you feel?"

Daring to challenge Juliet's calculated point with ignorant defiance, Carrie whirled around to meet the blonde's smug expression with a gasp of indignation, and an argument that fell away the second she realised that she didn't have a single word in her head to back it up with. Admitting defeat, she sighed and let her body slump, along with her hopes of her vindication in her best friend's hazel eyes. "Ok, yeah, fine. I know Miles has a crush on me," she confessed. Although the guilt laced into her words steadily morphed into hurt the more she tried to defend herself. "And yeah, I do lean into it sometimes because it makes me feel good about myself. Is that really so bad? Is it such a bad thing to want someone to be extra nice to you for once? Or to give you some positive attention?"

"No, of course not," Juliet assured, assuming a fierce determination of her own. "I just think your boyfriend should be able to do all those things and more, and clearly he's not."

Carrie sighed, exhausted by the very thought of him. "This isn't about Eric."

Juliet sighed back, exasperated by her best friend's submissiveness, especially when she was usually so domineering. "How can you still want to defend him, Carrie?"

"Because, I love him, Julie," Carrie replied, finally finding the contented smile the thought of him should have immediately slapped on her face. "And because he's a good guy."

"Really? Because he's been nothing but a dick to you lately," Juliet flatly countered, hoping that with a little pushing her friend would see sense.

"We've just had a couple of arguments, it's not a big deal," Carrie casually defended. "And they're all resolved now, so I don't know what you still have to complain about."

"Just because you had make-up sex does not mean that the problems were resolved," Juliet rolled her eyes before fixing the golden-haired girl with a more earnest look. "Did he actually apologise this time?"

"We talked it out first-"

"Did he apologise?"

Carrie squirmed under Juliet's gaze before muttering a reluctant, "No."

"Ugh," Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes again as she wound up to unleash a rant she'd been working up to for weeks. But, to her dismay, Carrie's defences beat her to it.

"Neither of us did, really. We just agreed to forget it and move on."

"How is that resolving anything?" Juliet asked with an annoyed frown that Carrie was starting to take personally.

"Well I hadn't thought about it until now, so it must have at least kind of worked," she attempted to justify.

But Juliet's nettled scoff told her that her stance on the matter wasn't budging. "You and Eric might as well speak two different languages; I've seen a pig and a fly communicate better than you two."

The comment drew a giggle from Carrie's lips before she could stop it. "Don't try to distract me with your cute, Southern lingo," she said as the amused smile settled on her face and she affectionately bumped her friend's arm - the act bringing both their tempers back down to Earth. Before Juliet could launch into another lecture though, Carrie hoped to diffuse the situation once and for all. "Anyway, we worked it all out and everything's back to normal," she said. Although Juliet's questioning glance made her correct herself, "Better than normal. In fact, we're going to go look for Halloween costumes together this weekend," she finished with an optimistic grin.

Now that was an improvement. For the first time since they'd sat down, Juliet found herself pleasantly surprised. "The Barbie and Ken costume's back on? I'm impressed. You two really must be getting along." Knowing how excited Carrie had been about the idea, she couldn't help but smile at the prospect of it finally coming into fruition.

"Oh no, the Ken idea's long gone. I think he's going as a firefighter or something now."

Juliet's optimism shattered in a split second, and yet she stayed frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "...You're kidding, right?"

"No, but I don't really mind. I'll just find something else to go as," Carrie sighed through a small, indifferent smile. If she'd spotted the disgust hidden in Juliet's eyes after her last revelation, she chose to ignore it. "It'll be fun getting to plan out my own costume anyway; I've got so many more options now. And plus, the Barbie one was only gonna be a pain in the ass to-"

"You're not even doing a couples one?" Juliet asked, far too concerned with what she was learning to care about hearing out Carrie's excuses.

"He thinks couples costumes are lame," she explained with a huff. "Or at least that's what Adam told him anyway. He said he wanted to just do his own thing."

"But Carrie, you've been excited about doing a joint costume with him for like a whole year."

"So?" Carrie asked, with an eyebrow quirk of her own, shoving the accusation aside as though she was kicking an ice cube under the refrigerator. "It's just a dumb Halloween party, it doesn't matter what we wear; everyone will probably be too drunk to even pay attention anyway."

"Yeah, but it matters that he doesn't care about stuff that's important to you. He never has, and it's selfish, Carrie - super selfish…" Juliet trailed off with a frustrated sigh, praying that she might finally get the ditzy DJ to see sense. "You need to stop defending his shitty behaviour."

"And do what?" Carrie mumbled, unknowingly giving Juliet just what she wanted: a chance to unleash her anger with the infantile blond bozo and the mockery of a relationship he had roped her best friend into.

"Hold him accountable," she urged, hazel eyes blazing with passion. "Relationships should not have to revolve around making excuses and placating your partner with blow jobs - it's a fucking joke. I don't care about all the 'good times' you guys have, or all the memories you've made; the way you've been treating each other lately is appalling, and you deserve way better," she said, pausing to let Carrie absorb everything she'd just thrown at her before delivering the finishing blow. "And I know you know that too, because you're already looking for it in someone else."

Carrie's blood stilled in her veins. Sometimes it scared her how deeply Juliet understood her, and other times it felt comforting. This was not one of those times.

She took in a slow, shuddering breath as Juliet's words seeped into her skin, carrying a deep sense of guilt with them. As much as she wanted to denounce Juliet's observations and stand by her own, joyously declaring her undying love for her boyfriend at the top of her lungs…her mouth made no attempt to move from its crestfallen frown. It couldn't, because she knew she was wrong.

The despondency in the blonde's vacant, blue eyes soon drew Juliet down from her soap box though. This time she approached with a gentle, almost apologetic, smile as she entwined their fingers and began rubbing circles into the back of her tanned hand with the pad of her thumb. "I just want what's best for you, Car," she quietly promised.

"I know," Carrie murmured, mustering a grateful smile as she squeezed her hand back, as though to say a 'thank you' her mouth wasn't quite ready to commit to yet. "I'm fine, Julie, I swear," she went on to profess. But when she started to get a sneaking suspicion that the statement wasn't all that convincing, she decided to switch up her tactic. "Now can we please get back to algebra?"

The genuine laughter that tumbled from Juliet's lips was music to Carrie's ears. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say," Juliet chuckled as she picked up her pencil again.

"I'll do anything to get us talking about something else," Carrie admitted with a woeful chuckle of her own. "And besides, I think I've got a better chance of wrapping my head around this than anything to do with my love life at the moment."

"Boyfriends suck, huh?" Juliet snorted with a knowing smirk.

"Try all boys suck," Carrie countered with a smirk of her own, at last feeling as though some of her signature confidence was leaching back into her frame. Although the pair's giggles took a few seconds to die back down, a mischievous glint remained in Carrie's eyes before she let them glaze over in thought. Mind idly wandering down untrodden paths, a wistful sigh escaped alongside a rogue proposal. "Wouldn't it make life so much easier if we could take them out of the equation altogether?"

Carrie was too lost in thought to notice, but the words that left her mouth forced an entire systems reboot in Juliet's brain. She had to do a double take, certain that she must have misheard her, or had at least missed the joking undertone. But no, the glassy, pensive blue irises held nothing but sincerity. And that confused Juliet more than ever. Her mind whirred with possible explanations for the brainless musings that definitely didn't sound as though they came from a girl in a committed, heterosexual relationship, but before she dared to question her on any, a tanned hand, the size of a frying pan, pulled her prospective interview subject right out of her seat.

Carrie's eyes widened as she was whisked into a pair of cotton-clad arms the size of tree trunks, hardly able to catch her breath before it was being exchanged for someone else's. A faintly stubbled smile pressed into hers several times before she fully regained her bearings and was able to catch the frying pan hand from travelling too far south of her waist. "Eric," she giggled once she finally managed to inch their lips far enough apart to mumble a greeting against his skin. A subsequent flurry of kisses kept her from elaborating any further though. It was a wonder they didn't pass out from lack of air.

"Hi, beautiful," he eventually greeted with a smitten grin. But their lips didn't stay apart for long as the dopey quarterback seemed hellbent on keeping his coated in his girlfriend's saliva. "You have a good study hall?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against hers. His roaming fingers shattered any hope of his interest in her life being genuine though.

Even if Carrie had wanted to answer Eric's question, his tongue was shoved so far down her throat she couldn't get her words out. "Eric," she finally gasped, jerking her head back from his with a breathy laugh as she felt his thumb start to lift the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "You're gonna get us both detention."

"I can't help it," he chuckled, pulling her back towards him for another seemingly endless stream of kisses. "I missed you." And whilst a stupefied grin played at his constantly interlocking lips, something didn't feel quite right with Carrie. Her kisses were lazy, almost reluctant, and whilst her body normally felt like putty between his palms, today it felt…stiff. She seemed distracted. And because Eric's head was only ever swimming with thoughts of her, this worried him. "Hey," he gently prompted, nudging her chin with his knuckle to bring her gaze up to meet his. "Everything ok?"

Carrie's breath stuck in her throat, too scared of getting caught in the crossfire of two sets of brown eyes to dare to leave. Eric's sat beneath a pair of thick, furrowed brows, marred with insecure concern, and she could feel Juliet's boring holes into the back of her skull, begging her to remember everything they’d just spoken about. Tensions were high in her usually spacious brain - thoughts flying back and forth too quickly for her to make sense of as she tried to let her conscience guide her in the right direction. And although she felt herself inching towards a blonde ponytail-bolstered confession, her conscience's valiant efforts were all for naught. Carrie's fingers found purchase in the bristly blond hairs at the nape of Eric's neck, her cheeks were dusted in the scent of spearmint and the sweaty must from his football helmet. The profound warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, and she curled up into it like a cat in the glow of fireplace embers - helpless to resist. "Everything's great," she promised, drawn in by the comfort of familiarity. "I just missed you too."

Disappointed, but not surprised by her best friend's decision, Juliet sighed as she tore her gaze away from the stomach-churning couple and began gathering together her and Carrie's things. She'd get through to her eventually, she had faith in the pit of her steadily grumbling gut. She just needed to be patient…or to find something that could drive a wedge between them once and for all.

"Ethan!"

The pint-size pothead almost jumped out of his skin at the barked greeting, which actually felt more like an accusation than a 'hello'. He didn't know what was more offensive, the girl's tone or the fact that she'd interrupted his concert-for-one.

"Jesus, Mick! You scared the shit outta me!" he cried.

Rolling her eyes, Mick let go of the headphone speaker she'd had to pry away from Ethan's ear after he'd blatantly ignored her fifth call of his name, letting it thwack the side of his head. The look on his face as he recoiled in bewilderment did have a faint smile tugging at her lips though. But it soon disappeared when he slumped back in his seat and readied himself to tune her out again.

Moving to stand in front of his desk, Mick didn't give him a chance. "Where's Miles?"

"What?" Ethan squeaked.

"Where's Miles?" she reiterated, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding at the empty seat beside him.

"He's talking to Carrie," he revealed with a blasé wave of his hand in the vague direction of the pair.

Even with AC/DC blasting through his headphones, Ethan swore he heard Mick's face crack.

"He's doing what now?" she demanded, flames roaring in the mahogany logs that made up her irises.

"He's just asking her something, it's no big deal," Ethan said - although his attempts to reassure the brunette were ham-handed at best given his lazy grin and total lack of concern.

This was further backed up by Mick's growing urge to strangle him. "Can I not trust you to do anything?" she hissed.

"What did I do?" Ethan squawked in indignation.

"Nothing - that's the problem! All you had to do was keep his mind off her-"

"I don't know what fucking mind-control powers you think I've got, Mick, but that was a bogus plan in the first place."

"Oh so what? You just weren't gonna go along with it at all?" Mick scoffed. "I just said to try to keep him distracted."

"And I tried, so I don't know what you're getting all pissy at me for," Ethan retorted. "What's so wrong with him talking to her anyway? I thought 'working through your feelings' was supposed to be a good thing."

Scowling at him for using her own advice against her, she snapped, "Talking to her is not helping him distance himself from her." But when her eyes scanned the room for that familiar mop of coffee brown hair, the sight it settled on made her heart drop to her collegiate green Campuses. "And neither is a run-in with Eric Brennan."

Trailing back to his seat, muttering to himself about the mystifying female mindset and what the hell all of that could have meant, Miles soon realised he wasn't looking where he was going when he collided with what felt like a wall of meat.

"Shit, sorry," he muttered.

When he looked up and saw who it was that had almost knocked him off his feet though, he realised his assumption hadn't been too far off.

"Woah, watch it, man," Eric guffawed.

The amused twinkle in his eye, and the smirk that blossomed as soon as his gaze landed on him, made Miles' stomach twist. Something told him that this interaction wasn't going to be nearly as quick as he'd hoped.

"Miles, right?" Eric went on to ask, eyebrow cocked in recognition.

"Uh, yeah," Miles stammered, although he was more confused than concerned at this point.

"Why you in such a hurry, bud? You got somewhere to be?" he continued, a charming smirk still sitting proudly on his chiselled jaw.

"I'm just going back to my seat."

"Oh yeah?" Eric probed, steadily turning up the pressure. "And why were you out of it?"

Miles immediately regretted the exasperated huff that fell from his lips, but he couldn't help his frustration. "Why does it matter?"

To Miles' surprise, the jock didn't snap back at his remark - there was no sign of meat-headed defensiveness at all. Instead, the guy just laughed. "It doesn't," he reassured with a jovial smile. "I just thought I'd ask 'cause, you know, from here it kind of looked like you were going over there to talk to my girlfriend."

Any relief that jovial smile had filled Miles with steadily leaked out as Eric's words sunk in. "I was just asking her about our work schedule," he explained with a careful, albeit tight smile of his own.

"Yeah?" Eric tested.

"...Yeah," Miles confirmed. Although he could feel his bravery slowly shrinking under the hulking weight of Eric's arched eyebrow, he stood his ground, hoping that a nonchalant tone and a set of squared shoulders was enough to convince the dopey blond.

"Oh well, that's a relief," he said with another booming guffaw. Miles' wishes were seemingly granted as the warning smirk slipped from Eric's face, replaced with a laidback grin. "There I was thinking you might have been trying to make a move on her or something."

Miles managed to eke out a chuckle, more at his own expense than anything. "I wouldn't do that, man," he promised through a freshly starched smile. "I know you're both very happy together."

Eric's shit-eating grin must have been powered by at least three AAs with the way it lit up his face. "That we are, my man," he proudly proclaimed. "And that's good to hear 'cause I know you spend a lot of time with her at the end of your shifts, and she says you two get along super well, so I'd hate to think that you were getting the wrong idea or-"

"Not at all," Miles assured, cutting the blond off before he could drive the knife any further into his chest. Fixing a plastic smile to his face to cover up the wistful sigh that escaped between his teeth, he delivered an admittedly painful, "We're just friends."

Eric's rich brown eyes seemed to scan every inch of Miles for any sign of a lie before he proceeded, and the brunet's lack of acting skills left him squirming like a worm on a hook as a result. But the satisfied grin that soon surfaced, dropping the tensed shoulders to help it rise, told Miles the quarterback probably needed an eye test.

"Good," Eric said with a contented sigh. "'Cause you and I both know that it'd be stupid to think anything else, right?" he went on to cockily taunt. "Like, no offence, but she'd have to be fucking insane to choose you over me… Right, Miles?"

Although his ego was severely bruised, to save his face from meeting the same fate, Miles forced himself to maintain a smile, albeit reluctantly. "Right," he confirmed.

"That's what I thought," Eric smirked, finally satisfied that Miles had taken enough of an emotional pounding if his lazy grin and affectionate arm bump was anything to go by. "Alright, nice talk, bro. I might catch you tonight if I drop by to see her, ok?"

"I'll be there," Miles verified with a strained sigh. Finally daring to drop his gaze from the sturdy blond, he made his escape without so much as a goodbye.

Apparently Eric thought he could take a little advice on the road with him though.

"Remember, watch yourself, Murphy," he hollered.

But the words didn't even register with Miles, because the swift shove between his shoulder blades was so jarring his entire focus was dragged to keeping himself upright.

Miles kept his eyes trained on the scuffed linoleum as he hastily lumbered back over to his desk, cheeks burning with self-hatred as he tried to push Eric’s no doubt smirking face out of his mind. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice that he finally dared to lift his head again.

“Are you ok?” Mick asked, expression overrun with an almost frantic concern. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine,” Miles brushed off, retrieving his threadbare backpack from its spot, slumped on the floor in one swoop. Haphazardly shoving the books from his desk into the main compartment, he mumbled a quick, “Can we just go?”

But Ethan’s glassy-eyed intrigue held him firmly in place. “Yo, what happened, man? Did he bust you for flirting with her?”

“No,” Miles sighed, wearily shaking his head at the stoner’s excitement.

“Did you flirt with her?” he pressed.

"No, I just- ugh," Miles huffed, quickly giving up on trying to explain the situation he didn't even fully understand himself. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"I told you to just forget about her," Mick sighed.

"Yeah, well, that's a lot easier said than done, Mick," Miles retorted, returning her disapproving frown with a defensive one of his own.

"Did you at least get some closure?" Ethan offered as he rose from his desk - partly from curiosity, partly to try to prove a point to Mick.

Whilst Miles' tongue instinctively prepared to shoot Ethan's optimism down, his brain jumped in to tell it to hold fire. And after a few, brief seconds recalling the interaction, his answer soon changed. "Actually, I kind of did," he admitted with a chuckle of incredulity.

"You gonna try to talk about it more with her tonight then?" Ethan asked, smirking to himself at Mick's look of disbelief.

"Fuck no," Miles snorted with a nonchalance that took both of his friends by surprise. "I just want to forget it ever happened- just…move on."

"From her?" Mick asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge in her tone with a gentle smile.

Sparing the blonde in question one last glance over his shoulder, only to catch the tail end of her and Eric getting pulled up for their excessive PDA by their (up until now) entirely uninterested study hall supervisor, he let out a wistful sigh. A chorus of voices swelled in his head - Mick's, Ethan's, Carrie's, Eric's - each one telling a different side to the same story. He couldn't have picked one to listen to if he'd tried. So, in the end, his own took over, steering his heart down a path that promised the least damage in the long term, and that Carrie's indifferent dismissal of him had already forged in his mind. "...That's the goal."

#I know this part may seem a little boring because there's so much talking and so little 'doing'#but i promise that these conversations are all setting important foundations for stuff further down the line #you'll just have to trust me for now though #plus a lot of *interesting* dynamics are established in this part #*wink wink*#and get excited because in the next part we're heading back to All Skate #and the *real* action's finally going to start kicking off...#also I'm super sorry about being so inconsistent with my posts #finding time to write over the past few months with my crazy schedule and pretty poor mental health has been virtually impossible #but I really want to be better about that by the time I go back to uni in september #so hopefully I can find more time for myself and get some real progress made on this story and ASDO #anyway i've rambled too much #i'll let you go but I hope you enjoyed the chapter #and i hope it was a nice surprise after all the chaos you've been going through lately <3 #p.s. i know the order of things gets a bit weird at the end but I didn't know how else to write it without it sounding super choppy #basically eric bumps into miles before he goes over to greet her after class #his whole chat with miles is happening whilst carrie's having her little heart to heart with juliet #just thought i'd mention it because I wasn't sure how clear it was and my 2am brain is not a trustworthy resource

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mirabai0821 · 5 months

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WIP: Blood and Honey CH Who knows, who cares.

Pairings: F!Tav / Astarion Tags: Light, slightly suggestive descriptions of blood drinking Word Count: 899 Summary: Tav sprains her ankle but forgoes magic to heal it for Reasons.

She shuffled with slightly less of a limp wearing a wholly self-satisfied smile to Astarion’s tent.

“What took you so long? I’m positively fami–,” Astarion crinkled his nose as though he caught a whiff of open sewer. “You smell like old bear.”

Tav tilted her head and regarded him with a humorless glare. “Rudeness suits you, nastiness does not.”

Astarion held up his hands in surrender. He truly didn’t mean it but ever since the bear had arrived at camp he noticed that instead of spending most of her time with him she had begun to split it. Now he had to fight a dog, an owlbear, and an actual fucking bear for her attention.

Not that he was competing, mind. But he kept a record of who’s eyes lingered where and he wanted as many on him as he could get and right now it was only hers so… Petty jealousy it is!

Tav sat, shoving an arm in his face.

“Busted my ankle, meant to tend to it myself but Halsin helped.” Astarion recoiled, pushing her proffered arm away. “I’ll take my chances with the rats.”

“You’re awfully picky, you know,” Tav smirked. “Turning down a free meal. But before you pout, I told him not to use magic. I know you hate how it makes the blood taste.”

Astarion leered before scoffing, muttering like a petulant child. “‘S like slugging an alchemy lab.”

“Besides, like I told him. Pain’s good for the body.”

She waited for a spicy retort, but like Halsin, Astarion saw the bait and refused to bite. He made a note though, filing it away in his growing mental dossier on her. Something to be retrieved later, at a more opportune time. Pain is good for her body.

Disappointed that she failed to get a rise out of the vampling, Tav adjusted her position, rolling up her sleeve to offer up a vein. He watched her closely, perturbed by all the cautious movements she made to avoid tweaking her ankle. She failed, indelicate creature, knocking her ankle against the tentpole, doubling over with a great gasp of pain.

“Gods’ bleeding, prolapsed, fucking asshole!”

Astarion chuckled and decided his piece of intel would be better used now. “So is that the kind of pain that’s good for the body?”

“Fuck you,” Tav ground out through a clenched jaw.

Delighted though he was to know the sailor-mouthed half-sorcerer had a fondness for the carrot and the stick, it upset him to see her in pain, to know he was, in part, responsible for it. The simplest of spells would have left her pain-free. But she endured, and only for his sake.

Astarion made a great show of kicking the offending tentpole which threatened to collapse the whole structure. “Bad, bad tentpole! Go to your room, and you’ll get no supper.”

With a grand flourish he knelt beside Tav. “There, there darling. I’ve dealt with the beast and it shall trouble you no more!”

She glared, still gingerly rubbing the ankle. He put his hands over hers to still them and lifted one by the fingers to his mouth. He did not kiss them. Only lecherous rakes actually put lip to finger in a vulgar facsimile of charm. No. He did as they do in the Upper City and kissed the air just above the knuckle, taking care to exhale a slow breath so she could feel the ghost of his touch. The promise of his lips on her. Her little pained whimpers softened into a gasp he knew even she couldn’t hear and he was pleased.

He took the hand and turned it over to reveal her delicate wrist. He kissed the air above that too, promising. Then he bit.

The give of her flesh under his fang was always so delicious. He delighted in its brief moment of resistance, like the last, feeble protests of a lover before they gave in to his temptations. Her flesh finally submitted, and she yielded up her blood, vanilla sweet.

There’s something so much more intimate feeding from a wrist instead of a neck. He could make eye contact that way. See her heated, anticipatory stare before her eyes rolled in her skull as her mind flooded with the heady pleasure of the bite. It was sinful the way he stared back, lips sealed and rounded over the puncture marks. He loved her pained expression as she watched, he could see her mind reeling and the gears turning.

Yes, darling, what else do you want to see these lips sealed over?

He licked the wound closed, the marks would be gone by morning. He watched as the high wore off, pleased with her faint and distant gaze and the gentle curve of her lips. But as she came to, that peaceful look fractured, and her hands went back to idly rubbing her ankle. It hurt worse than he thought, then she let on, pain she only endured for his sake. Healing magic did leave an unpleasant, astringent taste in the blood, but it made his insides twist to know she hurt just so he could have a pleasant dinner.

“Ugh, if you’re going to be such an infant about it, next time just let the bear heal you properly," he pouted.

“Goodnight to you too, Astarion.”

Tav limped out of his tent. The sound of her uneven gait replayed in his nightmares.

A/N: It's been a moment since the last snippet so have this.

#tav x astarion #bg3 fanfiction #blood and honey

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vyglitchcraft · 2 years

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𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓥𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓞𝔀𝓷 𝓕𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓷 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 (18+)

Dano!Riddler x AFAB!Reader (p1)

TW: smut, knife play, power imbalance, blood play, bondage, mentally ill!reader, obsessive behaviour, one sided relationship, angst

There's something so unsettling about Gotham that you always loved, nobody understood you but you didn't care. The harsh neon lights flooding the sky as advertisements play along the buildings, the Gothic and modern urban architecture clashing and mixing with each other. Dark tentacle like shadows wrapped around crevices as rats run around making as Paris weep in shame. It was dirty, harsh, and dark but you loved it. You were supposed to stop all these evils of the worlds, the muggings, the robberies, you were supposed to stop it and yet here you are basking in the sweet polluted air of the most crime filled city.

The bell rang, notifying that a customer has arrived. The diner wasn't in the best conditions, it wasn't fancy or anything just stark white ceramic floors with old vintage 80s décor. The only people that came here at night were business men just ending their shifts or depressed smokers. You tied your apron tightly like a corset, synching your waist and wrapping tightly on your chest, making the shape of it very obvious. Something about the tightness gave you comfort, maybe because it reminded you of how tight you wore your gear when you were still serving this damned country. maybe it reminded you of being hold, fuck now that's just sad. or maybe you liked the pain, you were the kinky type after all. you were snapped out of your thoughts by a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"alright so basically newbie, baked stuff are made in the morning and if someone orders for it just microwave the thing, other foods are made by the chef, drinks aren't premade so its your job to make em' but don't worry i already sent ya the recipes also for coffee and stuff you can ask the customer for specifics"

Olivia smiled softly, moving away her blonde hair and clipped your name tag to your shirt. she pushed you out with a notepad and pen in hand. you only looked behind you awkwardly as Olivia gave you some thumbs up. Alright don't be nervous, this is your first day, it's okay to mess up. sighing softly you walked up to the first and only customer you saw. messy blond hair, round face, he looked average yet you were nervous to meet him. dammit all you were a soldier for fucks sake, you never had any of these problems before. you gulped and your hold tighten around the notepad as you slowly walked up to the man. calm down, you aren't talking to the damn Riddler which you had an obsession for since about two years ago.

You were searching through the internet in boredom one day and you accidentally stumbled to one of his livestreams somehow. Honestly you thought it was just some crappy talkshow where the players had to guess some riddles ala Family Feud or Who Wants To Be A Billionaire. But it was something more, the man that called himself The Riddler promised actual change, sure there were some things that were probably illegal and it was your job to stop it since domestic terrorism shouldn't be a joke and you should stop it at the bud before it actually hurts anyone and all that but you were so enraptured. His voice, his mannerism. it was a combination of adorable and horrifyingly attractive. You think about him like it was some cheap romance novel. The irony of someone like you in love with someone you should stop? it was exactly like what teen you would've written in some secret diary that you hid from everyone.

Snap back to reality, you're serving coffee to a costumer not serving The Riddler.

"Good afternoon sir, how may i help you?"

He seemed nervous, it matches his look though. He seemed sorta adorable in a cute nerdy way. All nervous and shy, he looked around the room as his eyes were covered by his thick clear rimmed glasses. he wore a green coat, ill-fitting it slumped over his shoulders. he slowly looked up to you and cleared his throat, his face was now in clear view. Boyish, cherubic, moonfaced, he's just plain adorable and average to any other person. he doesn't look violent or dangerous, he probably couldn't hurt a fly even if he wanted to.

It was odd for the diner to be this empty at this hour no less but you didn't mind it, it just means less work. You asked for his name and he introduced himself as Edward Nashton, seems like he rather be called by his name rather than sir or any formal titles in which you follow his wishes.

"i'll just take a latte and a pie, pumpkin would do"

His voice soft like the cotton you wore on your body, it sent dominating tingles down your spine. No it wasn't right to have this crush on a stranger.

If only you know what would come. Edward or Eddie you would call him by. came in almost everyday (Weekends were a gamble, sometimes he would come sometimes he wouldn't) he always ordered the same thing. you two rarely talked, he likes to be left alone while you were busy taking care of the other customers. He was mysterious, its tantalizing. You just wanted to unwrap the mystery that fell right on your lap. You didn't know how to approach him, you didn't want to scare the poor thing away so you would always end up going home and simply laying down on your bed or slump on your couch in your dingy apartment looking through your social media feed or watching the news, letting the forecast be another white noise in the background as you do something else. in rare cases, The Riddler would livestream, usually those days were the best. he always made you smile even on the hardest of days. When you came home from work, your backside bruised from men (married and not) pinching and slapping your behind as you walked by, usually you would've loved the attention but something about that specific type just disgusts you, they seemed more like vermin then actual men. usually after those days, you would watch through some of The Riddler's saved livestreams and just imagined him talking directly to you, the way he talked to his audience made it easier. He wasn't like your usual content creator, he actually loved his audience. It felt personal.

You thought it was like any other day but that damn tease, you couldn't help yourself, you need to find out more about that Edward Nashton guy, he was so sweet and sometimes you would catch him staring at you, you would simply smile and waved and he immediately looked away. How adorable.

Your shift was ending and you probably had a plan that MIGHT work. you still have your gear around so you could probably sneak out unnoticed because of how well it camouflages you. You had the bright idea to stalk Eddie for a while, try to get some info out of him.

Little did you know, he was also stalking you, watching you from afar, sure he thought you were cute and all but he knew your past job after you casually mentioned it, saying the diners food was bad but not as bad as the MREs you had to survived on. Him thinking you were attractive was just a bonus, he had one reason to watch you and it was important. He doesn't know if you're harmless or not, you could be in an undercover mission trying to find out more about his secret job for all he care. He needs to make sure first just so you don't ruin any of his plans.

One time, he dropped his library card. It was well loved, plastic chipping off from the corners. Quick on your feet, you picked it up and when you saw his address, you swear you were giggling like a schoolgirl. you memorized his address like it was a cheat sheet to your next exam. It was a weird behavior that he noticed, you seemed to stare at his belongings before giving it back to him. It was very suspicious and it creeped him out although he did realize how hypocritical it was for someone like him to be uncomfortable with that when he's stalking you.

It was the wee small hours of the morning, you suit up, a balaclava on your head, tight shirt, a flexible vest, baggy pants, and army boots. you brought yourself some gadgets as well. You felt like a rip-off vigilante as you snuck out your apartment and climbed down the latter outside. His home was close to the Iceberg Lounge and luckily that was also close to your home. sneaking into the alleyway, you hid in the shadows being cast by the harsh lights of Gotham night. The alley was filled with gangsters and drop addicts, it was just a shady place in general especially at this hour.

Being right in the alleyway behind the Iceberg Lounge was definitely another reason for all the shady fuckers that and of course...Gotham it would be weird if there weren't low level crime flooding the shadow blanketed streets.

Climbing on top of a dumpster, it had made some of the gangsters to stare up at you which you only shushed and they nodded. Any average Gothamite would understand this unspoken rule, if you see anything just shut your mouth and walk away, it would be useless to call the police here mainly because of ungodly corrupt and useless they are.

You grabbed onto a latter, climbing onto the fire exit, you quietly made yourself up to the 9th floor, god your knees were aching but you reminded yourself that you have dealt with worse. you set your foot on the railings and jumped onto Eddie's balcony. Pushing yourself up with all of your upper body strength, you quickly balance yourself and snuck into his apartment through an unlocked window. The smell was wonderful, it felt comforting in a way although there was a bit of a citric chemical smell underneath the smell of coffee and printer ink(?) it smelled like paperwork, that's something you can pin point indefinitely. The room wasn't completely dark, the outside lights poured into the apartment and gave you some visibility plus some desk lights that he was probably to lazy to turn off.

When you had a good look at the apartment, something was off. You recognized the room, it was the same room The Riddler filmed some of his livestreams in, after all those years obsessively watching him, finally you were actually there. You knew he was in Gotham but you didn't expect him to be so close. Eddie or The Riddler was asleep on his desk. You smiled gently and moved some of his dirty gold locks away from his face and just stared, he seemed so peaceful and calm. You moved your attention to the board of ripped documents and papers all stitched together with tape and pins, you slowly ran your fingertips on the red lines, following and guiding your eyes, reading through every article, every newspaper clip, your breath hitched in excitement. You were in his sanctuary, in his private life. You found him.

So focused on the apartment and the stuff in it, you didn't hear Eddie shifting and sneaking up behind you, for you this was heaven but for him this was just confirming that you were trying to get him. His hands gripped the carpet remover and swung it over his head but in odd almost unnatural quickness, you grabbed his wrist and pinned him onto the carpet. You were excited, he could feel your eyes running up and down, your thumb rubbing his wrist. No it wasn't that simple, something else was wrong.

"I FOUND YOU! i found you sir, i...god i've been imagining this happening for years"

Grabbing his wrist tighter, you moved it to your cheek and made him cup your masked face. You were straddling him, knees right beside his torso, just from your eyes he could see how desperate you were, how desperate you sounded. He only chuckled and sat himself up, looks like he was wearing his mask.

"Smart...but you should be less...obvious..."

There was no need for secrets, you two know eachother's secret identities, although you did admit, you weren't really being careful not like you needed too. Just him praising you made your heart skipped a beat, you were giggling again which he did enjoyed. Riddler wasn't as joyous as you, you two barely knew eachother well atleast him, he barely knew you even though he knew your schedule. He wasn't good with things being unplanned and this was exactly that, he was weirded out. It was unsettling to know he was possibly watched even after the cameras stopped rolling, it was like a taste of his own medicine except you probably did it out of sheer obsession.

Well he couldn't exactly do anything else besides play along with your little game, he quite enjoys having someone to puppet around. It gave him a power rush like no other, that and you might come in useful now that he thought about it, you were a soldier so you would know alot of things about weapons and bombs and such, probably even interrogation which he would definitely need in the future. He sighed in relief, at least that was another roadblock out the list.

He would slowly get his fingers under your mask and lift it up to the bridge of your nose, letting access to those sweet lips of yours. Your grip around his wrist loosened as he softly shushes you

"Hush, i have a reward for you"

"What do you mean? for what? I didn't do anything"

His cooing was starting to get softer, making you weaker. The Riddler's thumb rubbed you lips softly before pushing into your mouth. You jumped, holding his shoulders. Your eyes were shut, rubbing your thighs together. The pad of his thumb laid flat against the delicate organ he was playing with, your mouth was stuck open making saliva drip along the corners of your lips and covering his finger.

"You're so smart, going out of your way just to find me, so smart...so sweet, you would do anything for me correct?"

The praises being whispered out hit you where you were most sensitive. You nodded quickly and desperately, leaning forward and placing your chest against his. This is wrong and you know it, even with the obvious things aside, he was your boss in a way, your idol and he was definitely older than you, you were in your mid 20s while he was in his 30s but damn did that made you daddy issues act up. if having the simple fantasy of serving someone wasn't obvious enough, the fact you were attracted to someone older than you definitely showed it.

Edward was sighing under that heavy duty winter mask. Although it sounded like disappointment, he was a smug bastard. When he took his finger out your mouth, you let out a quiet whine before noticing yourself being picked up by Eddie, he was carrying you bridal style and tossed you onto the bed, HIS bed. Now, he was the one on top of you.

"Be a good dear for me and stay still"

That pet name, it made your whole body felt like it was in a fever, your cheeks heat up, unlucky you, your mask was moved enough that your blushing was impossible to hide. He got off of you for a moment, disappearing into the darkness before grabbing a role of duct tape, wrapping your wrists together and connecting it to the bedframe above you head. You were completely open to any attacks or loving that Edward has planned for you.

A couple minutes passed and your bottom half was completely stripped, pants thrown away to the side, underwear wripped off. Your hips were lifted up and your ankles tied to your thighs with duct tape. He could see your dripping wet hole, twitching, begging for any contact or friction.

His hands wondered upwards instead, up to your chest. he unzipped the tactical vest and was now gropping the soft flesh on body. For a virgin, The Riddler was good at this although you would probably chalk it up to him having detailed fantasies or...porn.

Everything felt foggy, it was probably just because you were ungodly horny. The room was shrinking around you, your focus was just on one thing and one thing only, that is The Riddler. You could see him looking down on you, his eyes running down from your face down to your body. His thick rimmed glasses was reflecting the red lights outsides. Suddenly he grabbed your thighs, pushing them to your chest.

"How about we play a little game? Answer my riddles and you'll get to cum, answer them wrong and I'll hurt you...badly"

Although when he thought about it further, you would probably be into that. In his head, he's still debating on what to do, what to feel. He likes you, he enjoys having you just being there near him, somehow you were the only person that didn't judge him, just saw him as him but on another note you were a stalker, an obsessor but also you might have knowledge that he doesn't and you're more physically capable then him. Its mixed, maybe he'll just keep you at watch, maybe he'll let you go after he trusted you enough. Although going back to the present, you're here. You're everything a man could ever want, everything about you was attractive to him except a couple of things which disturbs him.

You, you were something alright, he never had this level of sheer obsession on someone or anyone ever, not even the Batman or the Waynes in that manner, he doesn't understand, you were a complicated riddle. He thought his staring problem was bad but when he met you, he somehow felt more normal than ever which he somewhat appreciated.

"Yes...I'll play it, I'll play your games sir"

That recognizable voice that he loved cut through him and pulled him back to reality. He only nodded and sighed

"Alright first riddle, I'm broken, corrupted, covered in shadow, and filled with vermin, people think I can't be saved but what i need is a wakeup call, what am i?"

It was obvious what was the answer, you smirked and chuckled, you swear some of his riddles are just corny

"Gotham, that's the answer correct?"

"correct, Gotham, something that you don't deserve, you deserve somewhere better, I'll save you from this hell hole, i promise"

Pushing himself against you, the bed underneath was creaking loudly. His fingers slowly went below his mask as he wet them with his own spit before taking it out of his mouth and separating his fingers, letting a rope of saliva run between them. A sweet promise followed by him softly rubbing your opening with his saliva soaked fingers. There was barely any force pushing against him, you let him into you knowing he would probably kill you after this atleast that's what you think.

Long fingers slowly pumped in and out of you in agonizing slowness. Ghosting, touching lightly against your g-spot he was teasing you, oh of course he wouldn't let you go this easily. You could feel him smirking under that damned mask but you didn't mind, this was the Eddie you fell in love with and you accepted all of the ego problems that he has. It made him HIM afterall, the Riddler without the ego would be just some random guy in the diner.

Beg, beg, your mind is telling you to just beg for him to speed up, play with your swollen neglected clit. Just anything besides this teasing. You were suffering while Eddie was enjoying every moment of this, he could see your balaclava being soaked from your tears. Oh how he loved seeing you cry, seeing your usual tough nature breaking down under him into a sobbing whore begging for his touch, a virgin's touch no less, a loser virgin that in his normal life is just a nerdy forensic accountant that everyone ignores but not anymore.

"Well...if you REALLY want me to fuck you, i suppose you would need to answer another riddle"

For someone that's in love with a man that basically makes riddles his identity, you weren't good with em usually, you needed time to think and it was going to be difficult when your mind is just filled with lustful fantasies mixed with romantic domestic dreams. You couldn't deny such cute face so you nodded.

"Good...now riddle me this*

You can hear his tone, this wasn't going to be a normal riddle

"Who's going to end up black and blue, looking up at the true savior of Gotham? in what way? Well you can decide"

"Me? Me me me! That's me right?"

"Yes"

Heart pounding out of your chest, his fingers were dexterous, finally pressing against your sensitive spot and pumping them in and out FAST. His face was close to you, his masked forehead resting against yours as you closed your eyes and struggled against your bounds, you needed to touch him, you needed to wrap your legs and arms around him but he wouldn't let it, it would be too easy. The control of your voice was failing, you were whining and moaning just from his fingers in you, not even his dick.

"Clean them"

Grabbing onto nothing, your hands clenched while your back arches. God god, you were close. He could feel you tightening around his digits and it drove him wild. He pulled them out just before you climaxed and stuck his soaked fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. It was humiliating as your mouth was violated by your own taste while your tongue was being played with.

He sternly ordered. Your cheeks hollowed and tongue wrapping around each long and bony finger, slurping all your juices off his hand. Moving your head back and forth, a mock blowjob. Shit, he couldn't handle this anymore, he was ungodly hard and seeing you suck his hand like a dick only made him harder. He stumbled with the buckle but managed to pull his slacks down, letting his clothed erection free from its first layer of imprisonment. There were precum beading over his briefs, soaking them as the droplets drip onto the length of his cock. He was nothing impressive length wise but damn was he girthy.

Briefs were pushed down and the tip of his erection was resting right on top of your clit. His hand removed itself from the confines of your lips and wrapped around his length, rubbing himself against his new favorite toy.

"beg for it"

He ordered again and like a dog, you followed.

"sir...sir please please fuck me! Ruin me please, I'm so fucking horny and desperate for you, Riddler sir fuck me please, I'm yours..."

"Yours?'

He asked quizzically. You nodded and smiled softly

"Yes sir yours...I'm all yours, I'm yours to do anything too"

"You're...you're mine, you're no one elses, I'll make sure no one will DARE lay their hands on you"

It sounded romantic but it really wasnt, it came from somewhere primal, a primal urge to mark his territory. He pushed himself into you, ripping your ankles from your thighs, leaving a capsaicin like burn. He laid your legs over his shoulder as his body laid on top of you in a mating press position. He was groaning quietly, moving his hips slowly as he's getting used to his v-card being gone.

His hips rolled slowly, making sure you're getting used to his girth, he didn't want to break you just yet. You were glad for this, you felt your abandoned hole being stretched out in what felt like years. It's been so so long since you ever had sex and your fingers and toys just wasn't cutting it anymore. You were begging for more, for the real thing with a real person.

Noticing a glint of something reflective you realized he was holding a box cutter, clicking open as he unsheathed the blade and running it softly on your side.

He was laughing seeing you squirm away from the blade, speeding up his movements. Oh he was definitely going to kill you right now or heck after this, yet the pleasure mixed with pain and fear was making everything more intense. One of his hands free from holding anything how, held your wrist and rubbed your wrists in a similar way as you did for him.

Green eyes drilled into your soul as he looked you slowly from up to down, his eyes stilled where the two of you connected. Seeing your tight breedable pussy being defiled and injected with intense pleasure by him drove him nuts, the box cutter near your side was slowly getting pressed in. Fuck every plan he had, he's focusing on you and only you right now. The blade dug into your skin, breaking it and letting blood flow. God it was painful, he was moving the blade slowly, making a shape out of lines, every line was agonizingly slow before he gets away and the blade dug into another part of your skin and repeated the proses. It was PAINFUL, you were choking out a whimper, a fucking whimper from a vet like you.

The blade dragging continued but quickly stopped. He rubbed the bloody wound and covered his fingers with the crimson paint, and again, he pressed his bloody thumb onto your lips, smearing them like rouge lipstick.

The thick cock rubbing against your velvety walls was twitching, you noticed his movements getting more desperate but rougher. The sound of skin slapping was filling the room, echoing from the walls and back to you.

The box cutter he held was swung on top of your head, cutting the duct tape holding your hands together, he grabbed your wrist immediately after being freeded and tossed them around his shoulders as he dropped your legs and letting them wrap around his hips. Next thing you heard was the sound of leather stretching and the blade being dropped onto the floor with something else. His face uncovered, he let his glasses lay on the floor, too busy smashing his lips against yours and licking the blood off your lips. You tasted better then anything he could dream off.

His big hands, holding onto your back just like yours holding his, he held you close to him almost suffocating you. He felt so experienced it was baffling. The kiss muffled both of your voices and especially his, letting out a soft whine as he released in you and soon you did the same, squirting and moaning into the kiss.

Both of you sat there for a minute. Eddie seperated the kiss and moved his hips slowly to ride off his orgasm.

When he pulled out, well the view was simply amazing. His cum poured out of your pussy onto your ass and onto his bedsheets. Admiring his work, he sat back and grabbed his mask and glasses off the floor, putting them on. With him off of you, you could see the cuts he made, it was in the shape of a question mark, crudely cut into the side of your stomach yet, the pain seemed to be gone, replaced by a sort of peace as you rubbed the wound.

The Riddler seemed to get off the bed as noted by the creaking, you couldn't tell anymore, it was hard to see far, the room was blurry and your hands and limbs were weak. You were swaying in between the lines of the conscious and the unconscious. You tried to grab his sleeve but it was too weak, he moved away and walked off, you felt betrayed, did he just...used you?

"wait Eddie! Where are you going? You can't just leave me like this!"

Eddie only shushed before your mind was submerged in the sea of sleepiness and unconscious

To be continued...

#the riddler #the batman #paul dano riddler #the riddler x y/n #the riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nygma #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you

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hiperacid2 · 8 months

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Works In Progress

Writing Collab "Thank you, next!" hosted by @/kamorikiri

songs: Make Up (scaramouche/reader) & Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I'm Bored (diluc/reader) !!: for more info, please go to the master post of the collab!

Kaveh x gn!reader - sfw/slightly suggestive

Sabzeruz festival is around the corner and the last day is known to be the big day, with a big performance from the crew at the Zubayr theater. Everyone in Sumeru is invited to dress up for the last days function; making you unprepared to see Kaveh with red glossy lipstick.

Dottore x gn!reader - nsfw - dark content

no synopsis yet.

!!: predator/prey, knifeplay, blood, established relationship but for the sake of plot its a planned scene between lab rat and doctor, happens inside an underground lab, dubcon due to the scene but i can assure everything is very much consensual

Foul Legacy x gn!reader - nsfw - monsterfucking

no synopsis yet.

!!: fisting foul legacy, trans!childe (he has a pussy)(long live childe w a pussy), afab!reader, MAYBE two handed fisting (hear me out im living my dream here), sticky and sloppy, aftercare!!!!

Alatus (Xiao) x Fem!Reader

Alatus knew about good dreams tasting as if blessed by Celestia, but never thought that he would experience the real deal. Now he can't stop himself from taking and taking, never enough. Of course, you being the source is a bonus, and he will do everything in his power to keep you safe and content, even defying his written destiny of misery and pain.

!!: this will almost certainly touch dark content territory with touches of cannibalism depictions, forced feeding (xiao forcing himself to eat nightmares), forcing reader to sleep and yandere tendencies, more warnings could be added.

Diluc x reader - sfw - modern au

tying dilucs hair !!! i have nothing more to add, just that, sfw domestic fluff in the midst of this quite worrying wip list lmao

Gallagher(hsr) x reader - sfw(can change)

!!: smoking cigarettes, alcohol, talks of trauma in the form of memories, slight daddy issues but not the sexual kind, im projecting

Braincells rubbing in hopes of accomplishing smth:

(ideas floating around without course, let them cook, let them cook)

the same concept as the taste of you, but Rosaria from genshin, with some background rosakae sprinkled.

more letters to nanami post shibuya.

scaramouche and alhaitham, living rent free on my mind...

series about the seven capital sins

series of short fics in the format of ted talks

some of these are things that have been in the cooker for almost years, please keep in mind english is not my native language! so it may take me a while to pump out fics without the quality declining. Also, i generally name my fics after finishing them, so thats why most of them are only pairing and a little synopsis of what the plot may be about.

the Works in Progress list is not in order of progress, though if you see some of them get knocked down on the list, i kinda lost the motivation for it/got stuck/havent touched it in a long time.

possible important tags (dark content, nsfw, etc) will be listed under synopsis if necessary

last updated: wed, feb 21, 2024

back to pinned post

#trophe!❣️

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alostnarrator · 11 months

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To Save Yourself- Chapter 1: MIKEY!!

Summary:

What do you do when you wake up in an entirely new world, with a family that isn't really your own? Well, Mikey has no idea, and it doesn't look like Dr. Delicate Touch will be helping his new situation any time soon. As Mikey gets adjusted to this new family he starts to learn more about what his other self has to deal with.

Note: I wrote this well over a year ago. Looking back, I can tell I've improved. Some things to note are that: 1) The way I protray the 2012 family is incredibly out of character/canon and should in no way be interpreted as my actual view on the characters, 2) I do not condone [abuse, neglect, bullying, violence, (implied) trans/homophobia] nor am I trying to glorify future events in the story, 3) the story is a bit fast paced and unclear at times, and I apoligize in adavnce. This story is angst for the sake of being angst, please move on if that isn't your taste. Read tags for more.

Mikey’s head throbbed as he slowly sat up.

“Aw man!” He hissed while rubbing his neck, “I should not have watched that extra episode last night!” His vision was still blurry as he rolled over the side of his bed. Mikey yawned loudly while stretching, and he blindly reached for his clock.

“What in the?!” Mikey let out a small scream when his vision adjusted. This wasn’t his room! Suddenly through the wall Mikey heard a gruff voice yell, “Can it, idiot! It’s too early for your shit!” Mikey’s eyes were dinner plates as he stumbled backwards. His hand hit something solid and it clattered to the ground. Picking it up, Mikey’s hands shook as he looked over the picture. It was another turtle in an orange mask, but this turtle was freckled and cuddled a ice cream cat to his face. His finger traced over the freckles on the other turtle.

“Where the hell am I?” Mikey whispered, pocketing the photo in his pouch once he freed it from the frame. A sudden banging at the door startled Mikey into popping into his shell. Maybe, if he just played it cool, he could sleep off whatever fever dream this was.

“C’mon Mikey,” A new, oddly whiny voice groaned from the other side of the door.

“Master Splinter wants us to start training today early.” The voice retreated complaining about blueprints and coffee. Mikey heaved in panicked breaths inside his shell. “It’s okay Micheal, you’re Dr. Delicate Touch! You’ve beat up mystic forces and thrown buildings at aliens! Ain’t nothing like a bad dream gunna stop THE Michelangelo!” Victoriously Mikey sprang up, feeling motivated with new vigor. It seemed that he’d need to use his mad ‘squillz’ to get to the bottom of this weird situation.

Quietly, and oh-so gently, Mikey crept down the short hallway, looking over a large open area. It was, thankfully, devoid of any weird copy turtles, so Mikey decided to just play it cool until he could “properly assess the situation” as D would put it. The slightly shaking turtle followed the sound of grunting and blows landing past what looked to be a subway ticket entrance, and down another small hallway. Surprisingly enough, Mikey found himself face to face with a tree. He could see three other turtles in the room, and a tall and slender rodent mutant watched over them. The rat man sat with a cup of tea, a jade cane of sorts sat within reach. An odd look crossed his face when the oddly familiar red masked turtle pinned the blue one to the ground.

“No.” He scolded chastly, “Again.” ‘Red’ muttered something angrily under his breath before the two bowed with a quick ‘yes sensei’ and returned to their sparring.

Mikey hid in the shadows, carefully observing, when he caught the purple masked turtle’s eye. He gulped when a stern look made its way onto Purple’s face, a small hand motion beckoning him forwards.

“Really Mikey? How mature of you, trying to hide instead of train.” Purple chastised him in a condescending tone. The rat made no move to stop him, so Purple grabbed his staff from where it was sitting and approached him. Mikey’s back hit the tree when Purple lowered himself into a fighting stance. It was seconds before Mikey found the breath knocked from his lungs and his plastron suddenly being very friendly with the floor.

“OW! What’s wrong with you?!” Mikey yelped as his arm was twisted just a bit too much for his liking. “Donetello.” The voice of the rat seemed to dismiss Purple, or Donetello apparently, and Mikey could breathe again. Just as Mikey was on his own two feet again a firm hand grabbed him by the arm. “Was wondering if you were going to skip out on us or not.” Red, which he guessed would be Raph, sneered at him. “I mean, if you’d rather watch your dumb baby cartoons instead of training like the teenage ninja you really are , then be our guest.” Mean Raph added a ‘it’d just make training better and easier for us’ and said something about babysitting him before rat- Splinter hit him over the head with his cane.

“Raphael. Do not speak to your own brother in such a way.” He scolded coldly. Splinter nodded at Donnie to get into position and Bl- Leo tossed a pair of nunchucks at him. “You left your nunchucks in the living room, again ” Blatant annoyance was written all over Leo’s face. What was happening? It’s like he was suddenly sucked into another world, cuz he knows his arm still hurts from D, but these were definitely not his brothers. Donnie once again lowered into a fighting stance, the two of them slowly circling around. Mikey silently followed suit, no longer having the energy to fight this entire situation.

- - - - -

“Y-you’re cheating!” Donnie cried out incredulously as Mikey pinned him again. They had spent the last few hours sparring, and none of them reacted well to this ‘sudden change in skill level’. Mikey was confused as to how the supposed ‘other him’ could seriously be weak enough to be pinned by these versions of his brothers. Sure, they were well trained, but their skills were limited to one style of fighting and they were all painfully traditional. Splinter would yell at him for not ‘doing it properly’, even if it meant Mikey would be sacrificing a serious advantage he had over the others. These brothers acted as though he was a co-dependant child, and seriously weak to top it off. Could Splinter really be so blind as to ignore what a step up it would be for them to learn other fighting styles?

After the attack of the Kraang, Mikey and his brothers took it upon themselves to learn new moves. Mikey got really into capoeira, and April taught him a little kickboxing. The orange-clad turtle remembered fondly the following sparring sessions and getting to see just how far everyone had come since they started even playing with the idea of being heroes. He couldn’t let his thoughts distract himself for long though, all too quickly Raph stomped towards him. Splinter’s sharp voice cut through the air like a sharpened knife, “Begin.”

Raph’s moves were predictable, they were aggressive and Raph was far too focused on getting Mikey knocked on his ass. Mikey internally scoffed, even his own brothers would overlook his observational skills sometimes. Course, they wouldn’t get away with that shit. But these guys? Something tells him that their Mikey didn’t get the option to stand up for himself.

‘These guys are lucky as hell right now!’ Mikey grumbled to himself internally while deflecting another attack, ‘If I was more mentally here they wouldn’t hear the end of it from me!’ Sadly enough Mikey’s emotional and mental functions weren’t “all there” at the moment. A soft whimper left him as he yearned for his brothers. For his bed. For a god damned HUG. It felt like a piece of him got ripped out, and was still back with his brothers. He hated how oddly pliant and ‘checked out’ the harsh words and cold comments from this family made him. It almost felt as though his head was stuffed with cotton, it gummed up his emotional processing and made it harder to think.

Mikey floated in his mental ocean until he finally heard Splinter dismiss them. For the first time in hours Mikey surfaced, gasping desperately at air he so craved. Internally he gulped down the moments of silence like a man in a desert, his thoughts slowly catching up to him as he sat by the tree to think. Raph and Leo could be heard loudly arguing in the supposed living room about god knows what, and he was pretty sure Donnie had gone off to check his lab for something. As nice as the peace felt, sitting alone in this open room left Mikey feeling more vulnerable than he was comfortable with.

On his way to the room he woke up in, Donnie stepped in to block his path. Wordlessly he wiped a cotton pad on his face. “Yooo, what’s that for Donnie?” Mikey laughed nervously as Donnie squinted at it. Mikey’s words seemed to register for Donnie as he jumped a little and only spared a short glance towards Mikey.

“O-Oh this? Don’t worry about it Mikey, you wouldn’t understand anyways.” He waved his free hand dismissively as he exited the hall. Donnie had wiped away some of his sweat from the training with that, but why? A sudden figure of his genius older brother appeared in his mind, smugness radiating from him.

“Ah HAH! Finally one of you calls for MY help instead of Mind Raph!” He boisterously bellowed, “So what can I do for you dear Micheal?” The familiar face and name helped calm his mind and put a small smile on his face. “I’m in a real bad twist here bro! This new Donnie is doing a- no doubt- science thing with my sweat! But why?!” Mind Donnie tented his fingers, his meticulously drawn on eyebrows pitching upwards as he pondered the question. “Well,” He said after a solid minute of nothing, “I’ve taught you about this. If this were me, why would I be interested in harvesting sweat samples from you?” Mikey thought hard back to the slightly complicated science lessons from D. Sweat… sweat, what was the use of sweat?

Mikey thanked and dismissed Mind Donnie as he plopped back down on other him’s bed. Normally Mikey would crank up his mixtape and draw to help him process the information, but now he was left to his own devices. The room was littered with comics and pizza boxes, but Mikey scoped out an ancient box of mostly broken crayons, and some crumpled and stained sheets of paper. Mikey began to softly sketch his brothers while he thought about the cotton pad. He had Raph, April, and Leo roughly drawn when it dawned upon him. “DANA!” He triumphantly yelled, jumping up on the bed and sending crayons flying. “It’s d-n-a, you nitwit.” Mind Donnie muttered half heartedly, no real bite behind his words. The lesson on DNA and its importance came to mind as Mikey stood on the bed. D had taught him about it while testing dads dna compared to the four of them. A sudden pit of dread opened up in Mikey’s stomach as he bolted out his other Mikey’s door.

“HEEEYYYY Donnieeee!” Mikey sidled up to Donnie’s side, an awkward grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He did his best to lean over the turtle, the height difference only hindering his efforts slightly. Donnie grumbled something under his breath while setting down the vile he had been holding. A tired and irritated sigh left Donnie as he turned to face the “younger” turtle.

“Michelangelo, what have I told you about coming into my lab?” His voice was soft, but oddly hostile. When Mikey only gave him a small awkward chuckle the taller turtle grabbed the tails of his bandana.

“Woah HEY-” Mikey panicked as he got dragged from the lad, in his panic he successfully knocked over the weird vile. “Jeez Donnie! Just wanted to ask about….” Mikey carefully considered his words, basing them off of the other turtles expectations on his character, “sciency stuff. Thought you’d be able to do your weird… nerd thing and teach me.” It felt odd to act like this. He felt a little stupid to be honest. Distantly he remembered how his brothers would treat him like a child until he rightly corrected them. He wasn’t a child, nor was he an idiot! It’s not his fault he has a hard time sitting still long enough to pay attention to normal lessons.

Donnie’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion. “Is that so? And why should I humor you Michelangelo? Last time you asked for a lesson you got distracted every twenty seconds and messed up my lab!” Mikey was going to need a hoodie if the entire family was going to treat him so coldly all the time. But if this was Donnie, then Mikey knew something he wouldn’t be able to deny.

“I just… I wanna spend time with my bro. I feel like you’ve just been shutting me out Donnie. I need my brother!” Mikey teared up, using this as an outlet to let out some of the pent up emotions he’s had since waking up. The purple masked turtle’s eyes widened a fraction before he hung his head guiltily. “I… I’m sorry Mikey, I had no idea you felt so alone…” Donnie held a hand out, an olive branch.

- - - - - -

The lesson had actually been fun, Donnie was able to remember to take things slowly and keep them interesting. Mikey found himself genuinely smiling despite his circumstances. Of course, the happy moment couldn’t last forever.

“Yo Dorkatello-” Raph stopped mid knock as he looked in disbelief between Donnie and Mikey. Raph scoffed and grinned, “Well ain’t this a surprise.” Raph leaned against the door to the lab. Mikey tensed, ready to bolt if this got out of hand. Donnie smiled softly and rubbed his neck.

“Mikey asked for a lesson. It’s been going… really well actually.” Raph let out a huff of a laugh.

“Well I’ll be.” Raph, now standing much closer, patted Mikey’s head. It was a little rough, but he could almost feel the praise behind it. A small blossom of hope bloomed in Mikey, ‘Maybe’ he thought ‘Maybe things won’t be so bad while I’m stuck here.’

Raph started for the door, “C’mon nerd, Leo’s got a mission.” Mikey stood to follow, but once they got to the living room he was stopped. “A mission that definitely does not include you.” Raph frowned at him and he began to protest. “Look kid, one good lesson doesn’t change shit. We don’t need to be fighting and babysitting. You’re still under house arrest until we see that you’re finally mature enough to be out with us.”

The blossom wilted as the two turtles walked towards where the dojo was. Hot, angry tears flooded down his face in rivers. “I am NOT a child.” He hissed with a deadly venom in his voice, but the others couldn’t hear him. He suddenly felt drained, his were like weights as Mikey flopped down on his new bed. He couldn’t help himself anymore as he allowed himself to break down. He sobbed, holding a pillow in his arms as his chest heaved. He’s never felt this hopeless, not even when the Kraang invaded. Not when the shredder almost killed his brothers. Not when Big Mama made New York her new battle nexus. But those times were different, he’d had his brothers by his side in one way or another. He could go and seek out hugs and comfort when the fight was over.

Now he was alone

Now he had no one to turn to

No one to go to

But… he had to stay determined. His brothers would stop at nothing to find him and bring him home. But until they do, Mikey swore to figure out if it’ll be safe for other Mikey to come back here. Because that's what a hero would do. And he'll be damned if he'd let his other self suffer.

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radmista · 1 year

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read the tags on ur reblog AND U ARE SO RIGHT ABT THE 2018 TMNT FANDOM- It’s honestly like the tumblrifcation of the franchise which i dont rlly mind cuz its still SUPER fun it just attracts those kinds of people- (literally traumatized by the yaoification of leo)

I’d say you should rewatch the 2012 since thats the one i grew up with too and its good outside of the weird side romance narratives they keep pushing- ROTTMNT is good but its pretty short and wayy less serious in its theme so it all rlly depends on what you like specifically :3

I barely touch it, so much so that idek how or why yt algorithm constantly spits out the kinds of videos I mentioned in the tags at me. Like I report them each time YouTube, stop telling me to watch it! It can't be the same video it has to be multiples, which makes me even more concerned at just HOW pervasive the homophobia must be within the TMNT 2018 fandom. I really rather liked TMNT when it remained a relative 'fringe' media to be into. Like, it wasn't a huge thing for teen girls or tumblr chicks to be into and instead you just had weirdo deviantart chicks into it. Who while also incredibly fucking weird, at least weren't... tumblr about the show.

The yaoification of Leo and somewhat Donatello that I've seen has nearly completely put me off the new show lmao. I only still consider watching it bc my gf shows mild interest in TMNT and it seems ROTTMNT would be her choice of entry, but if shes fine watching the 2012 series I'm choosing that one XD. I'm fine with a more lighthearted fun show, but I enjoyed the 2012 series for being fun and also kinda dark at times (that rat episode man). That's what I like about TMNT at least lol, weird radioactive tutrtles fighting evil shredder guy. I may rewatch the 2012 series for old times sake and to actually finish watching it! I think my sister and I left off around the ep where they made a submarine propelled by pedaling.

#transdonatello #i really do love tmnt #it's such a funny concept in all honesty. like these tutrtles got mutated and then they learned how to be ninjas too. sure why not XD #its so stupid but i love it so much #man i must have stopped watching the 2k12 series before they really pushed weird romance stuff?#i remember donnie having a really weird crush on april and her being way too nice to his weird ass #& leo also having a weird crush on shredders daughter. but that one was at least more interesting bc they both were into each other #did they ever introduce casey at all? i remember having predictions for when and how theyd bring casey into it but never got that far

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chisatowo · 2 years

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Y'know, not to make all the yukiran enemies to lovers fanatics scream and cry or whatever, but I rly do think the fandom exaggerates their rivalry a lot. Like I get why it happens, since their attitudes towards each other in the stories can be a bit all over the place sometimes, but it's not like they like. Hated each other. Like really the only one who ever carried any real resentment towards the other was Ran, and even then they aren't even always actively aggressive towards Yukina, like these two are in event stories together where they're just hanging out without being at each other's throats y'know? Like don't get me wrong, they do argue and bicker sometimes, but like they seriously don't actually argue that much, and most of their bickering is more like banter and them being dramatic lil losers who like to play up their rivalry, I really don't think there's any actual distain between the two, at least not much anymore in Ran's case.

#rat rambles #band posting #sorry Im in yukiran mode rn xysncgjsu #but yeah like. they very much deeply respect each other and if I may be so bold. like each other #but I feel like its very common to wanna write them as actually hating each other for the sake of slotting them into shipping tropes #its what they would have wanted ig but it bugs me a lot ngl dndjdndhg #like I guess the simple way of wording it is that they dont act out of a hatered towards each other but out of a devotion to their rivalry #theyre dramatic idiot losers and I love them #like theyre rivals not enemies and their rivarly is built on admiration not distain #and like again they like. arent always in dramatic gay rivalry mode around each other. they can just hang out sometimes rjdbdjfn #idk I feel like some people would call me boring but I just find their canon dynamic a lot funnier gmfnsjfm #mainly because at first ran rly took it way more seriously than yukina who seemed to be more intrigued by ran than anything #also I think its funny to imagine most of afterglow taking way too long to realise they dont actually hate each other gnfkfndh #bonus points if they dont find out until ran tries to do a low key 'hey Im dating yukina ok anyways-' and theyre like WHAT?????#also I just rly rly hate how much people sexualise the enemies to lovers trope and how that means some ppl are REALLY weird abt yukiran #anyways *shoots lazer beams if death and violence at the yukiran tag* theyre teenagers

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deceitful-darlings · 3 years

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*holds up sign that says*

“I just got here and I have no idea what the evil au is and from what I’ve skimmed, I’m too afraid to ask.”

I’m /j but I will say that I am lost™️.

Come in and sit down! I would offer you a cookie, but they’ve probably been poisoned!

For any newbies looking into Evil AU, run now while you still can!

This is the start of it all, it’s normal TW, but darker, more violent, and more hopeless, involving heavy themes around abuse, cannibalism, murder, disection of humans for ingredients, death games, just a whole load of nasty stuff!

If you’re looking for the content or trying to avoid it, it’s all tagged #evil au, and also under #dark, and #dark content, and if the tagging isn’t working then the AU started on 14th August, the date of the original post, since then the majority of my asks have been concerning the evil au, so reading though from there will be the majority of it! But for simplicity’s sake:

MC is canonically from Twisted Wonderland, not another world as that is where they pull in innocent students to be tortured from.

As per the original ask, the original MC ends up assigned to Heartslabyul ‘for their protection’

Death and murder is extremely common on campus.

Heartslabyul use torture, beatings, and corporal punishment to get obedience to the dorm and its leader.

Savanaclaw are brutes who tend to play with and then tear the innocents they get their hands on to shreds.

Octavinelle manipulate them into contracts that cost their lives.

Scarabia either kills them through overindulgence, or gets them participate in death games for entertainment at their feasts.

Pomefiore turns them into dolls if they’re beautiful once they’ve died, or cuts them up and uses them as ingredients in their potions.

Ignihyde uses innocents as lab rats for their technological developments.

Diasomnia eat them.

But even if that is the canon, any ideas can be tossed out around them, we’ve discussed things around MC being from another world, and things about other dorms, the only thing is traditional ‘affection’ isn’t going to happen in this au for the majority of characters, except maybe the softer ones, but even then they’re still violent. This isn’t a fluffy au, it’s tagged dark for a reason!

If your question/ask/idea is for evil au, just double check it’s obvious that it is! References to previous posts made about it or saying that it’s about evil au are best, I just want to make sure if your question is about evil au, my answer links to evil au and not just an average TW ask!

#evil au #yandere #dark #dark content #yandere male #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #anon asks

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kaz11283 · 3 years

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hellooooo! congratulations on 100 followers!!

i was wondering, if you could write one-shot with “Hey guys, it’s me! The biggest disappointment you know”, loki × reader? thank you!

Hey Guys, It's Me! The Biggest Disappointment You Know.

Characters: Loki, Thor, Tony, Pepper, avengers

(Tony, Pepper x Daughter! Reader, Loki x Reader, Thor X Platonic! Reader, Avengers x Platonic! Reader)

Warnings: None, humor

Summary: you've been dating Loki behinf everyones backs for a few months now, your dad and mom find out about it and they are not very happy with the decision that you've made

ANNOUNCEMENT: I have been enjoying doing these one-shots SO much! They have really been helping me branch out and giving me more stuff on my master and I am absolutely enjoying the feed back so much! Thank you to all of my new followers amd my old ones alike! Please keep the requests coming! Most of the time these are only taking a day or two to put out. FEED BACK IS GOLDEN, REQUESTS ARE OPEN. If you don't see something you want or you want to send a diffrent one in its more than welcome too! 💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~~

"Loki, stop." You laughed as he kissed your neck. The theater room was empty, the two of you had put a movie on to watch while the others were away on a mission. He had been left behind because the rest of the team still didnt trust him in the field. Of course if your dad had known that the two of you were a thinh he would have let him tag along.

"Why must I stop? No one is here for now, lets enjoy what little time we have together." He said kissing your neck causing you to giggle more.

"I cant wait till we can actually be open about this. I just wish they understood." You sighed playing woth the ends of his hair.

"One day my dove maybe your father will accept me. Until then I'm happy either way." He smiled down at you.

"I'm getting to the point where dad ca-"

"Where your dad can- WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?" Tony had walked into the theater room. You and Loki sprung apart, Loki to the end of the couch, you had fallen to the floor.

"When did you get home?" You asked standing up.

"I asked first. What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On? Y/n." You could see his face turning red.

"Kissing, we were just kissing." You stumbled over your explanation.

"Ah brother, you have decided to court the young Lady Starkling." Thor smiled walking into the room.

"Oh my god." You mumbled placing your face in your hand. "Oh all nine realms." Loki made the same gesture as you rubbing between his eyes.

"NO! NO, NO ONE IS COURTING ANYONE!" Tony yelled turning back to thor

"You, room, now." He pointed to his ans your mothers side of the tower. "You, your just lucky I haven't decided to kill you." He said pointing at Loki.

"See ya later" you waved at Loki before following your dad down the hall.

"No she wont!" Tonys annoyed voice came after.

"Brother this is good, she is a beautiful woman for you. She will not tolerate you mischief, possibly even put you in your place." Thor saod happily slapping Lokis back.

"I am sure brother whatever we had will end tonight if Tony has anything to say about it." He saod getting up to walk to his room. Steve stood there with Bucky watchjng what had happened.

"But if you know y/n she wont listen and shes still gonna be with you if Tony like it or not." Steve shrugged.

"But if you hurt her." Bucky shrugged looking at Loki. "You know the rest."

"This is absolutely embaressin y/n, why? Why him of all people? Hes no good!" Your dad yelled stepping out of his suit.

"Your gonna give your self a heart attack screaming and getting yourself worked up the way you are." You said crossing your arms.

"Hes killed people, hes tried to take over New York, for god sakes he brainwashed Clint! Theres no telling what the psychopath will try to do next! Your not seeing him any more."

"Dad! He was brainwashed, he was tortured. You've never been told that you wasnt good enough, thrown to the side, lived in the shadow of your brother! What do you plan on doing to keep us away from each other? You won't let either of us go on missions. You don't trust him enough and your to afraid that I'll get hurt."

"You'll just stay locked up here with Pep."

"Great so I'm the modern day freaking Rapunzel. Thats not gonna happen."

"Tony," your mom came and put her hand on his arm automatically calming him. "I remember a certain someone that my parents didn't trust or want me to be around." She said calmly. "And you remember what I did? I went with my heart. And out of it I have a beautiful daughter, who tends to take more after her father, and another one on the way."

"Don't lie, I gave your parents a crazy amont of money for you." Your dad said rolling his eyes.

"Tony!" Your mother said smacking his arm.

"Your not dating him y/n, end of discussion. I am very disappointed in you about this, not because its him but because you kept it from us. Go to your room." Tony sighed.

"Its not your decision on who I date, besides do you blame me for keeping it secret? Look how your treating not only him but also me." You turned to walk back to your room on the other side of the tower.

The next morning you was in your gray sweat pants with a gray tank top on and a emerald green zip up hoodie, you smiled to yourself as you realized you had on his color. You shoved your hands in your pockets as you walked into the kitchen where everone was eatting breakfast including Loki.

"Hey guys, its just me, the biggest disappointment you know." You saos walking over to take a seat beside Loki.

"Is this smart?" He asked leaning over to whisper.

You turned your head toward him and placed your hand on his face. "Everyone knows, I don't give a rats ass about what dad thinks, I want to be open and be happy." You leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. He pulled back with a suprised look on his face.

"Oh Jesus Christ y/n, intold you la-" your dad started as he walked in the door

"And I told you I wasnt going to listen." You looked over at him as you took a bit of your eggs.

"Like father like daughter." Your mom laughed shaking her head.

"Young Lady Starkling! You are wearing my brothers colors! The courting continues then!" Thor laughed as he slapped you both on the shoulders, both of you groaned and put your face in your hands.

After Thor had fully embaressed both of you it took no time for the rest of the team to join in, your father still wasnt happy about it but he could get over it. This made you happy; he, Loki of Asguard, made you completely and utterly happy.

~~~~~

ANNOUNCEMENT 2: I'm not gonna lie. I had this almost finished yesterday and for some reason the app gitched and erased what I had not saved (lesson learned) so I was honestly so irritated that I just left it to finish today. I am very happy with how this turned out. I am extreamly happy with all the feed back i am getting. Thank you guys so much! My tags are open as always! 💚💚💚💚

Tag list:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

#loki avengers #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki and thor #loki daily #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki x you #lokilaufeyson #loki one shot #loki masterlist #loki request

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monstrouslyobsessed · 3 years

Text

—asks on beastfolks pt. 2

aaaa, my inbox…still fun tho. so uhh, feel free to keep them coming because i’m addicted to worldbuilding and you guys are my enablers.

tw / tags: postpartum depression, mental illnesses, cheating, pregnancy, long post

Oho would you be introducing us to another beastfolk chara of yours of is lady Hyena the only one? —anonymous

I answered this one here! i also recently posted one on papa bull :3 vvvv tempted to start writing a chaptered fic on him tbh…

how would beastfolks deal with their mate with postpartum depression? because you typed "well…i never did say that beastfolks are that well-versed in understanding humans’ mental health, did i?" —anonymous

nice catch! it really depends on the individual and their culture, but remember how i said that their morals differed from humans/our morals??? to the beastfolks, mental illnesses such as depression and bipolar disorders kinda…doesn’t really exist to them. or, rather, its not something they really understand??? even though they have human doctors explaining such things to them.

to most, they live with this view that, well, you gonna pull up your bootstraps and get going, suck it up buttercup, and all that.

now i’m not saying that beastfolks does not suffer from illnesses (of all kinds) because they do! their biology setups differs from ours so they experience things, particularly mental illnesses, a bit differently than we do so that also has a lot to do with their skewed views on mental illnesses. its also why most vets typically doesn’t like claiming that our pets irl have mental illnesses because again, they’re different from us (and that they cannot communicate but i digress). their brains are different, their hormone balances are different, etc. hell, they might have their own illnesses that we typically don’t have (cats’ fiv comes to mind).

now, how they would deal with their mates having postpartum depression, would depend on the individual. more empathetic ones, such as lady hyena, the lioness, and papa bull, would’ve taken their mates to the doctor and follow their instructions to the tee—though this typically happens if their mates are harming themselves in some ways, like losing appetite, unwilling to deal with their newborns, etc. more…assholery ones on the other hands, probably wouldn’t taken them to the doctor until very last minute 😬 if they have enough brain cells to see through their own pride and rush their mate to the nearest hospital, that is.

and supposed the beastfolk(s) are part of tribal / in the wild with no access to doctors…that depends, unfortunately. :\ beastfolks still have a looong way to go before they fully understand and be accepting of their humans’ needs and morals.

Would Beastfolks cheat on their humans mates? If yes , would have consequences? and what if for revenge their human mate cheat on them too ? would have consequences? —anonymous

uhhh, if a beastfolk cheated on their mate? they’re getting a version of scarlet letter on their back, basically. most of the beastfolks’ cultures condemns cheating to the point that the courts would probably favor the one who got cheated on for a change and the cheater would’ve gotten stunned from the society and even from their own families (blood related, found, mixed species family, doesn’t matter, most would disown them on the spot). so it’d be rare but it does happen.

not to say no member of every species never cheated but this also depends on the species as well for consistency sake. most canine-based species are mate-for-life and “mate sharers”, as would most bird species, but most ferocious serial cheaters would have to be rodent/lagomorphs-based (like rats and rabbits), and ape/monkey-based species though to the point that they would be used as an insult toward the cheater lol

if a human ever cheated on their beastfolk mate/owner…rip. they’d be locked away in the beastfolk’s home and be badly punished tbf. doesn’t matter if they got cheated on. it’s just better for the human to oust their cheating beastfolk spouse instead. lets the society do the humiliating.

cheating, like i said, is taken as a serious offense in most of their world.

now…if its a human cheating on their human spouse…er, beastfolks would shake their heads and call them a shitshow. it might actually give an interested beastfolk a legal leeway to swoop in and take the victim for themselves, since the human who married another human (need a term for this one) typically have legal protections—mainly for sake of keeping human population up. no beastfolks can touch them, not without facing legal consequences anyway.

What human food Beastfolks likes most? And what human food they really hate? —anonymous

depends on the species actually!

canine-species beastfolks cannot tolerate chocolate and garlic, for example! they gets real sick from eating those. beastfolks’ diets typically parallels their irl counterparts, so like…cats irl cannot have our coffee or eat any citrus fruits, cat-based beastfolks cannot have them either.

now, they DO have their own alternatives though (the lioness have to have her coffees lol, but they needed to be made with cat-friendly version of our caffeine), some of it that humans cannot tolerate either lol.

likes/favorite foods depends on the individuals though. like, i do imagine lady hyena being a huge fan of her mate’s carrot cake recipe, but straight up hate the storebrought’s ones. both she and the lioness are nuts over burgers and chinese takeouts, but the lioness doesn’t like pizzas because cheesy textures bothers her. lady hyena doesn’t mind pizzas and sometimes like having some pineapples on them. neither can have garlic and onions on them though.

soooo all depends on the individual!

I want to ask if the human give more attention to the children than to their Yandere Beastfolks would they become jealous and territorial even with their own children😅? 🖤 —anonymous

depends on the individual! I highly doubt characters like the lioness, lady hyena, and papa bull would be too upset by their human mates’ overattentions on their children. they pretty much expected it and…what’s to say they couldn’t pull their mates away and make them to give them their attentions as well?

but, im sure there are quite an amount of beastfolks that do get upset by it. i want to say its more common with those who never grew up with other children or even raised them (my forementioned characters had all grew up in a pack filled with children and papa bull raised five of his on his own after his wife passed). those are the ones who doesn’t know what to expect with being a (first time) parent and might be over their heads.

and i’m sure that sadly there are also beastfolks who never wanted children in the first place but their instincts compelled them to take responsibilities. those would probably be the most harshest ones to for their human mates to deal with, when it comes to balancing acts between attentions on their child/ren and attention on their mate.

What would the Beastfolks do if their human mate wants to break up? Like just wanna be friends with they and nothing more . 🧐 —anonymous

that’d…probably be fairly rare, to have a successful break-up and staying friends afterward, but i’m sure there are quite a few civil resolutions. break-ups happens more commonly with those still in high/middle schools though, because most beastfolks are still understanding their own wants, needs, and their instincts. college-aged and older? beastfolks already know what and who to look for. they follow their instincts and unless their desired human is already taken by another beastfolk* or married to another human, the human is most likely out of luck.

*they can still complete with their rival beastfolk, if the relationship with human isn’t documented as either married or pet and the beastfolk’s scent doesn’t run that deep in the human (more on that in a bit).

This is very silly but I want to ask what would be the reactions of Beastfolks with a human mate that is a messy eater. 👉👈 —anonymous

…had you ever seen how wild animals eat irl? i highly doubt a good amount of them even care, lol, at least not in their private homes. might be something else if in a formal setting or something tho.

Beastfolks live more than humans? If their kid said like” I hate mom ! She’s gonna leave me” to their human mate. What would be their feelings about this ? They would become paranoid? would reprimand their child for that?it's pretty tragic if you think about it 🥲 —anonymous

nope! they share the same lifespan, more or less!! so…rip humans, you’re stuck with your beastfolk mates forever.

What happened with the mother and father of lady hyena ? 🧐 —anonymous

who knows. i don’t think lady hyena really know who her father is tbh and her mom might still be around, actually. probably retired from the hyena clan’s political matters and is out there living her life and partying it up with older folks her age. she might be lady hyena and her mate’s kids’ babysitter every so often too.

again, who knows. family background isn’t usually something i really think about that much.

Would the Beastfolks let their human mate uses birth control ? I know it’s a pretty random question 🤷‍♀️ —anonymous

its actually encouraged by the doctors after their human mates gave birth, for at least several month! that way, they can recover and heal for next pregnancy should they want another one soon. there are also birth controls for both amab beastfolks and humans available if they really don’t want to have kids but still have breeding kinks.

so, yes! depends on the characters (since there are baby trapping beastfolks too😬), ofc, but its not a forbidden subject at all.

Why most beastfolks doesn’t like touching humans that had already been claimed before anyway? —anonymous

well, good question, it’s not so much with them being disgusted by it but it’s instinctive for them not to cross the one who claimed the human before. most beastfolks can smell scents, so if the former owner’s scent still lingers (which can last for a long time after their passing / disappearance), they…keep their distances basically and their instincts dampened the idea of taking the human for themselves.

now that i think about it, i do wonder if it wouldn’t be too farfetched in some parts of the world to quarantine the human so that scent can fade and the human would’ve been up for rehoming.

Idk if that’d be that common though because that’s taxpayers money tunneling into what people may perceive as a waste since the quarantine may take a good long time and human would have to have their needs covered and be provided for. it’d been quicker to just card the human as independent and let them be on their way. let nature to take its course, so to speak, and see what’d happen afterward.

i’d have to think more about this one, for sure.

Would Beastfolks to use humans like service dogs?

hi i asked the other question about whether beastfolks would use humans as service dog. however I would like to expand the question. would Beastfolks use humans as Service, Therapy & Emotional Support pets? P.S:because you typed "brutal mistreatments in some of the zoos (mostly those that were horribly ran and private owned), only a good amount of survivors never did forgive humans for that.""some of them did (sorta) change their tunes if / when they claimed a human though” —anonymous

i don’t see why not! they do have animals there (which may be awkward for some to think about, so you can imagine them as some kind of alien-looking animals instead if you want), but humans are pretty versatile! so i don’t doubt that there’d be many beastfolks who would love having their service, therapy, and / or emotional support humans doubling as their lovers lol

but when i made that remark, i was referring to them deciding to adopt a pet. i once knew an individual who made progresses in their childhood traumas with dog bites by…adopting a dog. admittedly, i thought that was odd at first, but that sort of thing was agreed on between the individual and their therapist. they actually looked pretty happy finally overcoming their lifelong fear of dogs last i saw them.

so i sorta borrowed that idea for the traumatized beastfolks. i doubt it’d work for everyone and some of them might actually just stuck with exposure therapies and never moved past that and leave humans be. still, as more and more commonplace human pets becomes, i’m sure a good amount of the zoo victims (those who were in very shitty zoos that is) would’ve considered trying to adopt after seeing other beastfolks being pretty happy with theirs. had all of them gone through it? no, but thinking about it is still progress for them.

I was scrolling down and I was NOT prepared to see that drawing of papa bull :O omg —anonymous

LOL, sorry!?? maybe i should’ve put that under readmore. whoops.

How many children the bull dilf wants with his human pet? 👀 PS: 🪦 darling. —anonymous

…LOL uhhh…3+?💦 papa bull really do love being a dad tbh and watching his kids to grow up and be strong and happy adults. you know that iconic Dad Pride everyone wanted in their life? because thats him. hes the ideal dad everyone wants and be loved and supported by without judgment but with 100% love and pride for his kids. he doesnt gaf if his kids are lbgt+, what style or music they’re into, differing political opinions—he will respect and love all of his kids no matter what.

getting his mate pregnant is just a vvvv nice bonus for him tho.

#not writing #monster whispers #long post #anon #anonymous #beastfolk #beastfolks #[ catch me rambling again smh ]#ghosts are curious.👻

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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

break my mind’s eye VII — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation

JEON JUNGKOOK TIES THE KNOT!

‘It’s a sad day indeed as the most eligible bachelor in the city is now officially married! The ceremony took place in a garden like-setting on the grounds of the old Jeon manor where we could see the cherry blossoms falling on Kim Belle’s veil.

The couple absolutely glowed in the afternoon light and Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes off his new bride. While this relationship came as a surprise to everyone, many sources speculate that the two had been liaising for years in secret. Leave it the Jeon family to be as extravagant yet discreet as possible.

As per the family’s tradition, they will be staying in the manor for two nights before going back to their shared home.

Belle’s dress had been a little underwhelming to some of us until we got word that her waistline is encrusted with approximately 96 5 carat diamonds, the whole dress designed and created by Madame Saito, her mentor and one of the leading designers of our country. So appearances are quite deceiving as we’re looking at an easily $20, 000 wedding dress adorned by the new heiress.

The whole ceremony moved as smoothly as the falling flowers. Definitely a step up from the previous few articles written for Kim Belle in poor taste. The new Mrs. Jeon takes the award for being the most elegantly majestic bride of the year.’

“Sorry, sir?” Yoongi asked to make sure he heard Jungkook ask him to come over to his office for a private meeting. There were two ways this could go. Either a bullet in his head or a bullet he has to put in someone else’s head. Namjoon told him a lot of stories of how newer members of any mafia made you kill someone at least once to test true loyalty. Because really one could die to save themselves from any more misery but living their entire life responsible for a murder was a whole other story.

Jungkooks’ expression did not falter in the slightest, still in his proper wedding attire with a light tint on his lips from Belle’s lipstick. “It’s only going to be a few minutes.” He walked past him having every expectation of being followed.

Yoongi did not hesitate to continue walking along the large regal hallway before turning right into a dark rustic office. A much older man already situated himself on the couch while two guards stood on each side of a figure resting on his knees in front of the table.

The usual bright and luxurious light in the rest of the mansion unfortunately did not reach this room. Scent of tobacco mixed in with expensive cologne and sweat swirling in a dark room adorned with deep brown furniture. This was a place of purely business. Despite the pretty lavenders on Jungkooks’ breast pockets matching the flowers in Belle’s hair.

“Park Jeongsu…he was found in midst of exchanging letters to the mayor.” The older male spoke in a gruff tone possibly from the smoke infecting his throat.

“Thank you, uncle.” Jungkook stared down at the wooden box lined in purple velvet. “Do you see that? That’s what you called loyalty.” Fingers traced the outline of some diagram on the top that Yoongi could quite catch but it shone in gold. “Chul has been mingling with the likes of our own gang…” He scoffed with a smile. “Clever.”

Yoongis’ heart seemed quickly tumble down into a tight cage situated somewhere deep in an endless abyss. There was more sources for the mayor. Just how many rats did they have in this place? The man understandably was given minimal information so it was easy for him to stay unknowing and a little confused.

“I despise disloyal people, Jeongsu. I really do.” He attempted to give the trembling male an apologetic look but anyone could sense there was no sincerity. “Especially on one of most joyous occasions of my life, I expected all my soldiers to stay by my side. To protect me as I have tried to protect you and your families. I’ve always tried to be a gracious leader.” Jungkook shrugged. “If it were my father, your own balls would be stuffed down your throat until you choke to death.”

The mere description and Yoongi saw the male on his knees breathing heavily, the cloth around his mouth inflating at every breath.

“Of course today I can’t get my hands dirty.” He moved both hands away from the box. “I need to be gracious and generous today in honor of my new beloved wife.” Jungkook leaned on the edge of the table by his hands. “Thankfully my uncle was nice enough to question you while I was gone…” He gestured towards his blood soaked shirt and swollen eye. “So if you’ve come this far to me, that means you’re of no use.”

The words barely settled into the room but muffled protesting began from the vulnerable target. Even if the cloth wasn’t hindering his clarity, Jungkook and his uncle probably would not have had any remorse to step away. This wasn’t a family or business of mercy.

Flickering open the wooden box, Jungkook in his most casual aura picked up the shining silver object. Each bullet placed inside with heartwarming care before the older mans’ voice slithered through the intimate moment.

“Jungkook…” His uncle warned with a stern tone, smoke riddling the air around him. “It’s bad luck to execute someone on your wedding day.”

“I know.” He muttered without sparing him a sideways glance. Once everything had been prepared, Jungkook walked around the table and stood in front of the traitor. The gun handed out in Yoongis’ direction.

All eyes were on the male now and he never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life. He had been stuck in a trunk before so that was saying something. Eyes flickered from the older man to Jungkook to the male who clearly had been on his side. Of course refusing to do so would end with both their lives taken and then this whole operation would combust back into nothingness.

You’ve shot guns before. Not at innocent people.

No one was truly innocent. At least that was sentiment he plastered in his mind hiding away all the warnings and alarms from his conscience. Padding closer to where Jungkook stood, his heart raced faster at every step swallowing down any protest struggling to push through.

The thrashing faded away into a meek sob as Yoongi faced the man. Much to his discontent, the lack of lines on his face and the broken brightness in his eyes showed that he was but a boy. Possibly a tad younger than Jungkook himself or his age. Either way his mind now haunted itself with the prospect of killing a near child for the sake of his operation. Was it worth to take a life for this?

He was not the only one risking things however. This boy was one of many who were already victims of Jungkooks’ rule, at least Yoongi knew the one kneeling before him had fought for a cause.

Clicking back the safety, Yoongi tightened his jaw ignoring the tears streaming down their cheek and the giant eyes staring back at him.

For a few seconds the younger male calmed himself to an almost peaceful breathing state. It was brief and hard to truly notice but Yoongi saw the little nod he gave him. Reassuring the older male that this needed to be done. One life to protect the many.

In a rush of adrenaline Yoongi pulled the trigger. It wasn’t as loud as the guns he received in the precinct. Perfect for quick and quiet executions especially during these occasions. For a moment he could pretend that nothing even happened. Though blood leaking from the hole made on the others’ forehead spoke a truer story.

To the side he dropped, light thud echoing in the room before nothing but silence plunged comfortably.

“The den in Gongneung needs to be put under heavy security. I remember him one of the boys who was patrolling there.” Jungkook nodded towards the unmoving figure before fixated his gaze on the two guards who immediately bowed in response. “And I want a private meeting with the person who brought him in as a tribute.” He finally turned to Yoongi, expression softening a little at how frozen the man was. Carefully he patted him on the back. “You did well, Yoongi. I know being a medical apprentice, this isn’t exactly your line of work but I need to see whether it’s safe to have you around.” A small smile played on his lips. “I suppose I can always trust Belle’s judgement.”

Yoongi forced him to meet the younger male’s gaze, an awkward smile flickered but quickly faded away as he dumbly watched Jungkook take the gun away from him and put it on the table gently.

The boy lay limp on the dark wood slowly being painted with blood, deepening its hue into a deep wine glistening in the lowlight. Definitely not a sight supposed to be seen on an auspicious day.

Jungkook watched the blood ooze across the room and merely stood over it to move closer to the door. “Clean this up. No more tasks until I get to the mansion.” He ordered simply. “Yoongi…”

His attention flicked back to reality in a rush of cold air before following Jungkook along like a confused puppy.

As the bright light almost burned his eyes, Yoongi pretended that he just woke up from a really bad dream and nothing ever happened. He learned how to do that very quickly in his career especially after he shot his first person in the field. Not the healthiest way to cope but his pay did not actually cover for therapy.

Jungkook dug his hands into his pockets looking out the window. A bright, perfect day to be married after so long of hearing one proposal after the other. It was finally done. Eyes flickered towards the raven haired male who finally caught up to stand next to him. “Unfortunately I have to ask you another favor as well, Yoongi.”

“Does it involve me killing anyone? Can I have a five minute break first?”

The younger male chuckled before shaking his head. “No…it’s—it’s a little more delicate than that.”

Yoongis’ brows furrowed, all of his attention now dissipated into what he was going to say. Though he hated to admit he had a small idea of who it involved.

Jungkook stammered before glancing around the hallway and sighing. “It’s about the wedding night…”

The first thing she took off was her heavy earrings as they were led into one of the private rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Apparently Boyoung wanted to have a small word with the two of them before they went off to bed. Her limbs felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets with how exhausted she was. Who knew just wearing a heavy dress and walking around would take so much out of you.

Belle understand on a whole new level just how models felt having to create such a strong demeanor that even pain could not pass across their features. Hours spent on chatting people up and others admiring the now famous waistline on her dress. The girl loved the dress more because of the fact Saito made it just for her made her happy enough.

Jungkooks’ hand permanently set on the small of her back. The man had disappeared for a while during the party but from the way his face tensed when he walked back here, she knew it had to do with work.

The guide opened a door for them and they were led into a room similar to the one Belle dressed up in for the ceremony.

Giving a kind smile to the guide, she walked and placed her earrings on the small table next to the bathroom. For the moment the couple had finally stood on their lonesome with no one to disturb them.

The young lord took the opportunity to pounce at his new bride and take her lips into his.

Her veil toppled off her head from the force and Belle couldn’t help but giggle a little into the kiss. “Not now.” She whispered.

“A few minutes.” Jungkook breathed out pulling her veil off gently before pressing a few more pecks on her soft lips. Whatever strain tightened up his nerves significantly loosened being around his only source for relaxation.

Belle hummed in protest, pressing against his chest to have him pause. “Your aunt is going to be here in a few minutes. We need to be decent.”

Jungkook merely smirked and gave her another peck just at the moment the door opened.

Boyoung gave her nephew a cheeky smile as he backed shyly before closing the door behind them.

“What did you want to talk about?” Belle asked with a sweet smile gracing her lips.

The older woman let out a sigh but still kept a decent smile gracing her features. She looked over at Jungkook who hung his head for a moment. “Dear…” Her tone rung grim and serious. A rare sound coming from a lady who always looked extremely happy every day. Once again the usual habit of holding Belle’s hands when she spoke of something. “The Jeon family has been around for many generations. Possibly longer than the city itself.” Boyoung chuckled lightly. “So with that age and prestige, there comes…a few traditions that lived on for our family’s continual survival.”

Belle nodded, trying to search her expression with the hope that was just some simple task she had to undertake. Maybe eating more fruits or balancing stuff on her head. Except the other womans’ voice sounded far too serious for something like that. Eyes flickered over to Jungkook who had his arms folded over his chest and his expression softened.

“Family members must be married at 21…” Boyoung repeated the tradition the couple already fulfilled. “They also need to carry on the line of the Jeon family.” Her grip tightened on her hands. “Do you have any conditions that may prevent you from having a baby?”

She stammered lightly. “No—I don’t think so.”

Boyoung nodded before giving her a smile except it wasn’t as bright more consoling.

“Why are we talking about babies now?” Belle smiled nervously.

She glanced over at Jungkook for a moment who tightened his jaw, seemingly unable to look Belle straight in the eye. “You understand the world we live in, dear. At some point, you both will need to dedicate yourself to your own lives just like Jungkooks’ parents did. Which is why we make a point to marry and have children in their brisk days.”

Belle’s lips parted for a moment, sensing where this now dreaded conversation was headed. “When—when do you want us to have children?”

Boyoung took a deep breath as the younger female had the urge to yank her hands away. “There is a ceremony on the wedding night for every Jeon wedding. I’ve done it, Jungkooks’ mother has done it and many of our ancestors. You are to—lay with one another that will give you a child.” She spoke carefully. “Because of a few incidents in the past, there is a strict rule that this ceremony must have two witnesses. Preferably people that the couple trusts not to fib or lie about the consummation.”

Her whole body felt like it burst into flames but no one noticed or cared. A little voice inside her screamed out so loud, Belle was worried she might actually mimic the volume right there and then. She really thought this conversation would not happen until a few years after the wedding, maybe when her heart wore down to the subject. How much more of her naivety was going to be shredded to waste before she realized these people did not care who they hurt. Especially when it came to their ideals.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, dear but—we must prepare tonight.” She caressed her cheek.

Belle could almost feel a slight sting on her skin at the seemingly affectionate movement. Blood curdling screams still echoed through her insides but on the outside, she nodded as any captive trying to live would do. Just nod and hope it ends quick.

Boyoung immediately smiled using the minor response as a reassurance boost before grinning at Jungkook. “I will see you both bright and early tomorrow.” She announced walking out of the door.

The couple now standing in a pit of thick silence.

“You knew about this.” Belle whispered, eyes growing glossier by the second as they stood face to face with one another. “Is that the part you conveniently forgot? The part where I’m supposed to make children for you tonight too.” She winced while Jungkook was trying conjure up words that would be most appropriate to reassure her.

Unfortunately the way their family worked and the way society worked were so far off from each other that even he felt helpless against it. “Belle, we’ve been doing it without protection this whole time. What’s going to be so different now?”

“They want me to be impregnated!” She shouted making the male hurriedly glance over at the door worried someone might be listening in. “With witnesses…” She whispered under her trembling breath.

“Baby, calm down.” He raised his hands to cup her cheeks, give her some form of comfort that he could while still making Boyoung and the rest of his family happy.

Belle roughly pushed him away, her bracelet tinkling and tugging at the fabric of his shirt when she moved back. “No that’s why you chose me, isn’t it?” Voice shook down to her very core as she yanked away from Jungkook attempting to hold her hand. “You wouldn’t feel bad if I was in display as opposed to someone you actually cared about.”

The lord paused in his tracks for a moment feeling his heart clench at the dark thought swirling in his wifes’ head. “I don’t want to do this just as much as you, B.” His words faded more into a mutter trying to keep the conversation private because he knew with all his soul that there was one person pressing their ear against the door. Thankfully most of these doors in the mansion were decently sound-proof. “You think I want people to see us like that?” He grabbed her by the cheeks now forcing to keep her close, noses just brushing against each other. “This is my family. You should know more than anyone that we can do everything for family.”

“Don’t do that.” She shook her head, breathing out a small sob and attempting to pull away from him again but his hands were firm to keep her still. “Don’t do that, this is not the same. It’s a baby—”

“I know.” He whispered, her pulse pounding against his palm making his stomach drop. “I do care about you. I care about you a lot…”

“No you don’t—” Belle hated that she was not just feeling anger pump through her veins but fear. Genuine fear. The permanency of what they were about to do could terrify anyone but at least normal people had the chance to say no or turn back.

“I do.”

She took a deep breath gently pushed his hands away. “If you did care about me…we wouldn’t be married. And I wouldn’t be preparing to be bred like an animal.” Swallowing down the painful lump in her throat despite the tears already trailing down her cheeks. People cried at weddings after all but rarely for this reason.

Before Jungkook could say another word Belle rushed away into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard it almost made even him jump.

No. No no no no no no no no no this was wrong. Of all the fucking things Yoongi witnessed in his entire life, this made him nauseous even thinking about it.

Witnessing impregnation. That’s what they called it, the men quietly smoking at the open area near the bedroom it was going to happen. The excited bastards looked to be about the age when it was acceptable in their time to behave in this manner, chin sagging down to their toes.

So along with mass selling drugs, the Jeon family loved impregnating their women in front of other people. How unsurprisingly disappointing.

The worst part was that Yoongi had a feeling Belle wasn’t a long-time girlfriend of Jungkook. He wasn’t even sure if the two were a real couple. But a child is fucking real. This wasn’t a fantasy game anymore for status, this was solidifying a future that the woman probably didn’t even want.

Silence plunged into the room when from the corner of his eye a lavender adorned figure stepped in next to Jungkooks’ aunt.

His plump lips curled up into a smile at the older female, bowing down before a grim expression flashed across his face and Yoongi immediately knew why he was here.

Jimin looked around at the people in the room and his heart dropped seeing the chortling men at the corner. He prayed to the high heavens none of them were going to be in the booth observing this horrendous ceremony. Instead his eyes flickered to the man he hoped was Yoongi. “Witness?” He asked briefly. Much to his somewhat relaxation, Yoongi nodded.

“This your first time?” One of the older man asked the two males.

They both agreed shortly and the older man laughed.

“Oh it’s better than it sounds. In all my experiences, they both loved it. Sometimes it’s a sweet affair.” He smiled.

“And other times?” Yoongi asked daringly.

Unfortunately the men shifted uncomfortably, the slightly younger ones cleared their throats while the older ones looked more grim than normal.

“Virgins are the worst to endure.” The oldest one there spoke up, shaking and sitting on the chair. “Crying…blood…those are the ones you need to worry for the most.”

“We haven’t had a virgin in a long time though.” A more springy man spoke up. “A few of us suggested that the mating ceremony should not be mixed in with losing one’s virginity. Not much fun for the to-be mother or father.”

Yoongi swallowed down thickly, their casual tone about this whole mess making him even more nauseous.

The conversation was immediately paused when Boyoung padded back into the room. “It’s time now, boys. Into the booth.” She muttered almost under her breath gesturing towards to the gap on the left of the entrance.

Taking calculated steps one after the other, Yoongi simply followed the lavender adorned male through the small opening into a tiny booth. Their shoulders brushing against each other as they observed the beautiful designed window, vectors formulating the letter ‘J’ mixed with butterflies and flowers.

However through the window was something far less pleasant.

Silence diseased the large room. Belle was left to hear her own hurdling thoughts just to stay sane. From the corner of her eye she noticed the shifting through the open window with a designed barrier to create some kind of class to this horrid tradition.

His hand pushed her chin so her gaze could be fixated on him. “It’s just you and me, okay?” Jungkook whispered. “Just us.”

Like a brainwashing scheme where Belle was stuck in a river between a bank of fantasy and a bank of reality. They were not alone. She could feel the familiar eyes burning right into core. But what was so new about pretending? She pretended this to a point where her entire life was now dedicated to the man before giving no chance of another life.

If Jungkook couldn’t get out this then how could she ever think the same? It wasn’t like she could run away either, there was no one around to help her. No one to stop this.

Hand gently cupped her cheek before leaning in for an initiating kiss, light warmth spreading through her. His lips became so familiar for comfort nowadays that Belle lost a little of her conscious sense for her own peace of mind.

However this was not meant to be an act of love or even attraction. She was reminded of this when Jungkook pushed the fabric of her dress up without warning. “I’m sorry.” He whispered in her ear. No this was a responsibility. A chore to get done on a to-do list curated for the young lord.

Made to lie on her back, Belle’s vision grew blurry feeling her legs being spread apart with the utmost care but hardly any of the warmth she usually remembered. Then there came the burn through her entrance as he pushed in. A trembling breath passed through her lips struggling to keep composure in such a vulnerable position.

Walls ached the deeper he moved in, his one hand gripping at the sheets until his hips stilled once she was completely full with his already throbbing cock.

Her gaze flickered up to the cherry blossom paintings on the ceiling, pretending a cool spring breeze touching her face and the sound of water flowing. This isn’t real. For a second Belle forced herself to drown into a pool of fantasy. This wasn’t real. The pain faded minutes ago and so did her sense of consciousness.

She wasn’t here, arms pinned down by strong hands and hot breath cascading down her neck. No it was back at the boutique. Belle spending hours sewing her favourite daffodil yellow dress with a tall cup of iced coffee and her hair in a comfortable bun.

Her head was pulled back into reality when Jungkook pressed a kiss on her lips and it all poured back into her. Legs aching from the spread, her heat a little numb from the friction while no sound passed her lips except for light heaving.

Yoongi struggled to control his heavy breathing as the scene took place before him. The man felt like a prisoner witnessing his inmate being beaten. He just had to watch cruel reality play out it’s painful dance. Having the stomach for it was not his biggest issue. Except he knew Belle was not here out of unconditional love for Jungkook. He promised himself to always help people in need but truly aiding someone to freedom required a hefty journey in the process.

Right at this moment however that sentiment seemed like empty words.

This was not Belle’s world. The idea itself was what caused a pit in his already upset stomach. She didn’t grow up in this life nor did she choose it. It was never supposed to a part of her but now she had to deal with evil test of fate.

Jungkook intertwined his fingers with her loose ones, pressing reassuring pecks on her jawline as his hips snapped against hers. Sneaking a free hand between her legs he rubbed onto her clit hoping to give her some kind of pleasure while his own orgasm rolled to the edge.

A light tickle shot through her but stopped midway when she could feel him reaching his release. The way his face contorted and his thrusts grew desperate but sloppy.

This isn’t real. Fingers fisted at the sheets. This isn’t real. A light groan uttered under his breath. This isn’t real. More tears burning and gathering at her overflowing eyes.

This is real.

The man stilled as his release burst through his veins.

Her body lay compliant as she felt herself being filled up to the brim. Belle sucked onto her bottom lip, closing her eyes almost trying to turn back time somehow.

Jungkook hesitantly leaned in and tried to press a kiss on her cheek.

“Get off me.” She whispered. “Please.”

The male paused feeling a burning behind his eyes when she still tried to be kind despite what he did. Pulling out of her gently, Jungkook got off the bed with a shaky sigh curling his hands into fists when he couldn’t comfort her. How could he? He was the reason she needed comfort in the first place. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jungkook turned away to the bathroom.

Yoongi didn’t realize he had been gripping onto the grill of the window the whole time, until he felt something wet on his palms. When he pulled away it felt like taking a splinter out tiny little bleeding holes interrupting the lines.

His ears pricked up at the trembling sigh the other let out.

When he looked over at him, his cheeks were already stained with tears while a few more flooded at the brim watching Belle slowly shift to the middle of the bed. “I have—” The male whispered before swallowing down painfully. “I have to go to work after this.”

The both of them helplessly watched the girl shake and force herself to sob quietly as she fixed her dress.

“Please…go see if she’s okay. If you can.” The pleading look in Jimin’s eyes mimicked the ache in his exhausted heart. They both knew Belle didn’t deserve this mess. They both witnessed her kindness and now saw her pain.

Yoongi nodded even though it was clear there was nothing any of them could do for her right now. Not at this moment. God if he could just tell him right there and then that he was trying his best to help her out of here.

But when he saw the way Belle curled into herself and tried to take to deep breaths while tears were still streaming down her face.

He knew he had to do a whole fucking more than his best.

Two nights later.

Sun felt warm on her skin, shoes crunched against the pavement as she relished in the murmurs and cheers of the market. How long had it been since the woman had just walked through this corner of wonders? All the high fashion shows, sleek garments and elegant wear were almost nothing compared to the raw simplicity of the red cotton or hand crafted jade jewelry. Belle remembered how she used to create necklaces out of flowers and little stones giving it to Taehyung as a gift because he was the only one who would accept it.

No matter how high she went in this pillar of success, this still brought a warmth in her heart without fail.

Wandering eyes paused on one clothing stall in particular. Padding closer, she saw the smallest pair of yellow shoes shining in the sunny day just at the edge of the display. A smile tugged at her lips when she noticed tiny daisy details embroidered onto it. Carefully the woman picked the pair up almost worried that it might fall apart because they looked so delicate and innocent.

“You have child?” The lady at the stall smiled at her kindly as she waved herself with a fan to waft away the heat.

Belle smiled, relishing the soft fabric under her fingers pads almost acting as a therapeutic substance. “Not yet.” She chuckled softly. “How much is this?”

The lady boxed the shoes up carefully before handing it to her with a bracelet for free. When Belle tried to refuse, she waved it off with that same sweet smile. “It’s for good fortune.”

With slight reluctance the girl thanked her again and moved onto the other stalls. As her eyes wandered, she stopped at the sight of a familiar figure walking out of the market area towards a pay phone. Forehead knitted and curiosity peeking, Belle moved to the more crowded areas so she could see what was happening without being caught. Sneaking around was not the most elegant behavior but at this point, the girl lost all care of what was proper and improper.

Pausing behind the payphone Belle hugged the bag to her chest finally catching Yoongis’ voice speak into the call.

“Jeon family is more traditional than you think, man. They had witnesses to watch the consummation.” Anger was clear in his tone especially in the way it rasped a little more when he tried to lower his volume. “Jungkook handpicked the damn witnesses, what kind of fucked up family is this?”

Belle felt a strange air of relief hearing someone else say those words other than her screaming it over and over again in her mind. Despite the urge to thank him for reassuring her sanity, she stood still to listen when he spoke up again.

“Jungkook is adding extra security to the Gongneung den, all his strongest supplies are there. He knows there’s rats in his empire so we need to get this done before he finds a way to hide all of it again.” His voice was much lower than before.

The woman still caught all the words that were needed however. Heart pounded against her ribcages padding closer to the payphone until the worry of Yoongi seeing her did not resonate anymore.

Yoongi gave a few more words of encouragement to Namjoon before doing his checks again and the sound around him numbed. He saw a familiar reddened and teary gaze fixated on him. For a moment he wanted to believe that she just arrived not hearing a word of their conversation but he knew better than to be so naïve.

Before he could think up a strategy, Belle rushed over to the male in a huff and stood merely a breath away from him with her back pressed slightly against the phone. There was a flash of anger on her face before it faded into something that made Yoongi wish the anger could come back again so he could endure it better.

“You’re a police officer?” Bottom lip trembled and her already exhausted eyes flooded with heavy tears. “And you just watched that happen?” Belle knew why Yoongi couldn’t just burst into the room and stop the event just like she couldn’t stop Jungkook or Boyoung from going on with tradition. But the sensible side of her lost its way that night and now the girl found it far too difficult to find it.

“If I could, I would’ve shot all of them right there and then.” He murmured feeling his stomach drop at the way her voice couldn’t keep any of its usual composure anymore. “I want you to get out of this. I really do. But we need to—we need to work together if this is ever going to stop.” His words dialed down to a whisper now that their faces were merely a breath apart. It took a few minutes for him to realize that his hand was caressing her cheek, sloppily wiping away the tear that flowed down to his thumb.

How long had it been since she wanted to hear someone say those words? Someone that could help her get out of this. A part of her would have agreed in seconds, for the first time falling into another’s arms and feeling like she did not have to do anything. But the tiny yellow shoes in the bag grew heavy on her. “Yoongi—” Belle breathed out staring down at her purchase, hands shaking.

Confused eyes flickered down to follow her gaze and immediately saw the miniscule box inside the bag. “What’s wrong?” He opted to search her expression now. “Belle?” Some side of his mind tried to shout that his hand should be back in his pocket. If anyone saw the two standing this way then they would both be in trouble and none of this would be worth it. But she felt so warm and broken that he was afraid they both would fall apart if he moved even the slightest away.

Belle stammered trying to form the words somehow before sniffling. “I’m pregnant.” She sobbed lightly.

The news lingered heavily in the air between them and Yoongi felt like the wall of his mind close into this one thing. All of the things—all of these goals now stripped down to these two words that he prayed would not be true. He knew it might be possibility. He saw the whole thing happen with his own two eyes but for some reason a more naïve part of him—whatever was left of it—wanted to believe they had time. Yoongi took a deep breath before shaking his head. “It’s okay…we’ll figure it out.” He made her meet his gaze. “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

She closed her eyes, nodding while her tears seemed to take their own freedom down her face. “Okay.” Words came out in a whisper.

The older male couldn’t help but mimic her nodding for a moment, slowly moving his hand away and hoping no one in the town recognized them. “Do you need a ride home?”

Quickly the girl shook her head feeling an ache in her belly calling the place ‘home’. It would be their child’s home. She would have to accept that someday. “Can we—” She glanced over at the bustling market. “Can we walk through the market for a little bit?” A sad smile tugged at her lips though her eyes glinted with desperation to capture any sense of false joy that came across the path.

Yoongi swallowed a small, unexpected lump in his throat before glancing at the market. “Yeah…of course.”

Maybe a few more minutes of blinded excitement could redeem that little piece of sanity.

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