#so i make them one at a time and then when i make weird mistakes on the first sock i’m like well. asymmetrical socks

[barcaatthemoon]

complicate me || leah williamson x reader ||

Coming back to Arsenal was a mistake, but you and Leah manage to make an even bigger one together.

18+

You had always known that you wouldn't be at Manchester forever. A three year loan was a pretty long time, and for a moment, you had hoped that it would become permanent. Arsenal had let you stay the couple years, but with Jonas out, management ended your loan early. They wanted you back in red, not that you could blame them. There were a lot of important games coming up, and even if you technically couldn't play in a couple of them, you were still an important piece for practices.

It felt weird for you to walk the training grounds at Arsenal by yourself. Jen was gone, and she had always been the person you could count on to still be your mate after everything. Leah had kept most of your friends after the breakup, and then you hadn't exactly helped your case when you just up and left after everything.

You could still remember the way that Caitlin had practically begged for you to stay with the team. If it wasn't for Jen, you probably would have been convinced to stay. A part of you regretted leaving, but you knew that you hadn't been in your right mind with Leah so close after everything. At the time, it all seemed like too much to be reconciled, but now you were hopeful that things could be fixed.

You'd never in a million years get back together with Leah, no matter how good she looked. It didn't matter how many drinks you had on a team night out. After the first couple to celebrate wins, however, you promptly decided that you'd be a loner at Arsenal. With Jen in California, you had lost your personal voice of reason, the only person who could truly keep you away from Leah for your own wellbeing.

"Come on, you have to come over. You never do anything with the team, everybody's gonna think that you hate them," Caitlin pleaded with you. The two of you had been going back and forth for the past week about you coming to the party she was throwing with Katie at their place. It was a bye week, so everybody was free to enjoy the weekend. You knew there would be a lot of drinking, and that was what scared you. You had always been able to hold your liquor pretty well physically, but you made absolutely terrible decisions sometimes.

"Cait, nobody wants me there. Let's face it, they barely even want me playing here again," you reasoned. Caitlin could see you start to move to get up and rushed to grab onto your wrist. "Caitlin, I don't want to argue about this."

"Then don't argue and just come over for a bit. You don't have to talk to anybody but me. Just please, I miss you. I've missed you since you moved and iced everybody out," Caitlin said. She gave you her best puppy dog eyes, and if it was anybody else, you probably would have just said no. But because it was Caitlin, you gave in despite your better judgement.

That afternoon when you got out of training, you went straight home and immediately called Jen. You had hoped that she would convince you not to go, but instead, she had fully agreed with Caitlin. You hated hearing how it was a good idea to bond with the women you'd be spending the next two seasons of your career with. Once your contract was over, you could go somewhere else, but for now, you were stuck at Arsenal.

A lot of things had changed since you left. The changes may not have seemed like much to people who had been around, but they had definitely taken you by surprise. The big one had been Caitlin and Lia. Caitlin had been clinging to Katie's side when you arrived, and Lia was stuck by Lia.

Years before, you had been close with Lia, even closer than Lia and Leah were. Now, you just had Caitlin, who you had only befriended because of Lia. It hurt for the Swiss woman not to even look your way, but you couldn't imagine how it looked to her. You were sure that everybody had gotten Leah's side of the story, which you weren't calling bullshit, but you knew had to be biased.

"You look good. Leah's staring," Caitlin said as she nudged you.

"Whatever." You brushed off Caitlin's comment, but only to force yourself not to glance over at the blonde. You couldn't let yourself get sucked over there, not when you knew where it would end up. Leah had an uncanny ability to complicate everything in your life, and she had been doing it for years now. Your relationship had been far from perfect, but you were happier then. Now, you were miserable while she was getting a chance to live her best life.

"(Y/n), I didn't think you'd come." Katie looked just as surprised as she sounded. Caitlin swatted at the Irish woman's chest, but Katie seemed unphased. "I'm glad you came. It's been boring without my favorite drinking buddy."

"Do you really want me to drink you under the table this early into the night?" you asked teasingly. Katie scoffed at that, but didn't deny that you usually did win the little competitions. You watched as Katie sent Caitlin a pleading look before Caitlin just nodded. Before you could react, Katie grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen where the alcohol was.

You let Katie pick the alcohol, and thus, your competition began. You should have known better than to start drinking like this so early into the night, but you wanted to have fun. It had been so long that you believed that you deserved to have a good night out. Several shots later, and you found yourself having to help Katie stumble out of the kitchen.

"Katie, you promised you'd stop at 5," Caitlin huffed as she took her girlfriend from you.

"Hey, it's not my fault that she did doubles," Katie slurred. Caitlin glanced over at you, who just barely had a rosy tint to your cheeks. You didn't seem too out of it, so Caitlin left you there to make Katie sit down and eat something with the hope of sobering her up a bit. It couldn't have been more than maybe 30 seconds of you being alone for Leah to find her way over to you.

"I see that you're enjoying yourself," Leah teased. Your eyes narrowed at her, but your anger was fleeting. You couldn't hold onto any one emotion for too long before forgetting what exactly it was that you were feeling. "You're gonna be feeling that tomorrow."

"That's not your concern," you told her. Leah seemed a bit shocked by the snark in your tone. She shouldn't have been surprised by it, you had spoken to her in worse tones constantly by the end of your relationship. "Why are you over here? You told everybody that I ruined you. Nobody wants to talk to the woman who ruined them."

"(Y/n), I was hurt. You know that I lash out when I'm hurt, besides, I am much more mature than I was before," Leah said. She placed her hand on the small of your back, and it ignited something inside of you. Without an ounce of hesitation, you turned and tried to kiss Leah. "Hey, no, not like this. I want you, but I want you to want me back."

"Leah, it's complicated. I'm complicated now," you told her. Leah bit her lip and glanced at the bottle of alcohol just sitting on the table behind you. You followed her gaze and immediately knew what she was getting onto. "You want to be on my level?"

"I don't think I'd feel so bad if I was," Leah reasoned. You didn't like the thought of her needing to be drunk to want you, but the notion was gone as quickly as it popped into your head. Everything was fleeting, except for your desire to have Leah. You didn't necessarily want her sexually; you just wanted her close. If you had to crawl into bed and open your legs for that, then you were more than willing to do so.

The trip back to Leah's was a bit of a blur. Leah's place wasn't too far from Katie and Caitlin's, close enough for the two of you to walk there. The two of you had left fairly early into the night, but it was nearly 11:30 by the time that you had gotten inside. Neither of you seemed to care as you had both been guilty of stopping to kiss and feel the other up.

Your lipstick was smeared on Leah's mouth and neck by the time that you got back to her place. She paused as she caught a glimpse of herself, a little more disheleved than normal. Leah promptly turned her atttention over to you. You looked just as far gone as she did, pupils blown wide as you watched and waited for her to make another move on you.

"Come on," Leah said as she tugged you along with her. Leah tried to move quickly with you, not giving you a chance to take in the state of her home now that you were gone. She was scared that if the two of you stopped for too long, you would notice all of the little pieces of you that Leah had refused to give up.

The truth was that she had tried, and for a while, they had been gone. However, Leah had always kept the few boxes of trinkets and little things you left behind in her closet. Lia had begged Leah to throw it all away, but the blonde couldn't bring herself to do it. Eventually, she began hating the way that her house felt, so she slowly put all of your things back in their rightful places.

Leah kept the light in her room off, guiding you to the bed herself. She didn't think about you waking up in the morning and seeing anything, but Leah doubted that the two of you would be on speaking terms for a while after tonight. Any time that you let yourself get remotely close to Leah for a little, you always blanked everybody for about a week or two.

"Lee, it's dark," you said. Leah just hummed, neither of you stopping in your attempts to undress each other. You wanted to see Leah's body, but you weren't willing to pull yourself away from her to turn on the lights. You didn't need the lights on to know the look of concentration on Leah's face as the two of you ground against each other.

You could vividly imagine everything happening around you. This was far from the first time that you had closed your eyes and just tried to imagine all of the things you remembered about Leah. Now, it was much more real than before with Leah panting and moaning in your ear.

"I want to feel you. I want to be inside of you," Leah told you. You had never been glad to be laying down before in your life. There was no way that Leah wouldn't have known how her words would affect you. You were sure that Leah could feel the surge of arousal as it coursed through your body.

"Fuck me, Leah, please," you begged her. You pushed a needier tone than usual, letting Leah really hear every ounce of desperation inside of you. Leah groaned as she sat back on her knees. One of her hands slipped between your legs while the other went between her own.

Leah could just barely make out the twisting of your body in the moonlight. She was so much closer than you were, but Leah wanted to make you cum. She wanted to feel you clench around her fingers at least one more time. She didn't know whether or not she'd get another chance to touch you like this again, and so she tried her best to savor the moment.

…

The hangover from hell was the least of your problems whenever you had woken up the next morning. With Leah fast asleep next to you, you quickly snuck out of her home. It had once been your home too, but once again, you were running from it. A few quick phone calls to Arsenal's management staff about taking some time off for your mental health and a hasty plane ticket purchase later, and you were dead set on leaving the country.

Leah would be mad at you, as would Caitlin and everyone else, but you had to go. You watched as a text was sent out from management about you taking the next month off. Text after text began flooding in as you packed a bag. You didn't know how long you'd really be away for, but you just had to get the fuck away from London for a while.

"Jen? I know it's early for you, but I fucked up. I'm not over her, and I just need to clear my head for a couple of days. I swear that I won't be long, they're giving me the month, so I'll probably go back to Glasgow for a bit too. I just, I'll see you later." You had always hated leaving voicemails, but the words just poured from your mouth. You knew that your best friend was going to kill you when she saw you, but she'd also take care of you too.

[pond-froggie]

When Ford was living in the shack alone, he came across a creature that towered over him with lanky limbs, protruding bones, and antlers coming out of its skull. He of course dedicated a page to it in his journal. He realized the creature was trying to communicate with him but he was never able to understand what it was trying to say. He then kept discovering other anomalies and moved on from it. 

However, it would knock on his windows and door and be especially persistent when it was raining. It always followed Ford around whenever he was in the forest, indirectly chasing off other creatures. He got fed up with it keeping him awake at night so he set traps, nothing to hurt it but just to get it suck in a way that it can get out on its own so it stays away. And it works. Ford only ever saw it in the corner of his eye. Ford then meets Bill, builds the portal, realizes he made a mistake, Stan comes, Ford goes through the portal. 

Stan has journal one which he can't fix the portal with on its own so he goes searching in the forest for the other journals. He can't find them. He breaks down and yells and sits in the middle of the forest and cries where no one can hear him. Or so he thinks. 

He somehow hears rustling of leaves through his sobbing and he looks up from his hands and finds a beast towering over him. His breath catches in his throat and he tries to scramble away but he's too shaky from his breakdown. 

The beast looks at him curiously before going down on all fours and showing its neck. That seems to calm Stan down. He thought that all the weird creatures in the journal were just some form of creative expression but he remembered seeing something like this. 

Stan pulled the journal out and flipped through it eventually finding the page. He showed the creature, feeling silly for a second until it nodded and pointed to itself. The creature slowly reached towards Stan, closing the journal before pointing to the six fingered hand on the cover then to Stan's five fingered hand and making a confused trill. 

“Ohhh buddy, you're not going to believe this.” 

Turns out he did believe it. 

Stan explained everything, the creature looked sad but not all too shocked. Stan asked if it was close to Ford. The creature made a pained grunt and showed him with leaves. 

It took one red leaf and had it move around from leaf to leaf before stopping at a leaf with a pebble on it. The red leaf moved away from it but the leaf with the pebble followed. The creature made angry grunts and growls before leaving the leaf with the pebble behind again but the leaf with the pebble still followed, just out of sight. 

“That makes two of us… Wait! So you know where the other journals are!” 

The creature nodded. 

“I need them to fix the portal. Can you show me where they are?” 

The sun had set by the time Stan had all three journals in his possession. He rushed back to the cabin but stopped at the door, looking back at the creature standing just at the edge of the treeline. 

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, I promise.”

The next day, Stan found him in the clearing behind the cabin. He brought along the three journals, books he thought might be relevant, and notebooks that were filled with Fords equations. He plopped it all on the ground and threw himself down along with it.

“Buddy, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm never going to get him out of there. I never even graduated highschool, how the hell am I supposed to understand all this?” Stan pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes till spots formed. 

Stan listened to the papers rustling and figured there was no harm in letting the creature look. He then felt a tap on his shoulder. He pulled his hands from his eyes and looked up at him. 

“What.”

The creature tapped his finger against the pages so Stan looked. He pointed to different topics in the textbook then to different equations and sections in the portal drawings. 

“You saw him do all this?” 

The creature shook his head. He pointed to himself, then to his head, then to the pages. 

“You KNOW this stuff!” 

He made a ‘so so’ hand gesture.

Stan's excitement slid off his face and was replaced with sadness. 

“You weren't always like this, were you?”

The creature shook his head sadly. 

“Is there a way I can cure you?”

The creature's eyes went wide before he nodded. 

Stan pushed the pencil and paper towards the creature but he just shook his head. After some back and forth they figured out a communication method. It was slow, but worked. The creature would point to words in all the books and Stan would figure out what he was trying to say from that. 

The cure was simple. Gnome spit, fairy dust, unicorn snot, and manotaur sweat. Mix together and wipe it on his forehead. 

Yeah… Simple.

The gnomes were more than happy to give some spit if it meant getting the creature out of their forest. They also gave a discount on fairy dust for the price of one pb&j. Stan found the unicorns and started insulting the mane of the first one he saw, making it cry. He watched the Manotaurs for a while and his first plan was to challenge one to arm wrestle until he saw one snap a small tree like a twig. So he challenged them to stand on hot coals. Good thing they aren't well acclimated to humans and dont know that human feet don't look like Ford's temperature proof boots. 

Stan hiked back down to the cabin and gathered all the ingredients together. 

“You better be a cute human.” Stan groaned, glaring up at the beast most only have nightmares about currently sitting and grinning like a dog about to get a treat. 

He smeared it across his forehead and nothing happened for a few seconds until he collapsed on the ground and started writhing in pain. Stan watched as his bones contorted and skin grew in places where there wasn't before, but where there was supposed to be. 

He was turning human. 

After an agonizing minute of Stan listening to the pained growls turn into groans and yells into words and pants, a human is left lying on the ground. He holds his hands in front of him and stares at them, smiling. 

“Ugh, spit, snot, ‘n sweat? Really?!” The man wipes the mixture off his forehead. “Thank you Stanley.” He smiles up at him. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course.” Stan rubs the back of his neck. The two smile at each other for a little bit before the man startles out of it. 

“Oh! I’m sure you have questions and now that I can talk, I’d be glad to answer them.” 

“What about your name?” 

“Oh good golly how could I forget. Fiddleford McGucket.”

“Well Fidds, how about you get settled and some real food in you that isn’t whatever you were eating out there, and then we can get to the questions.” Stan gestures to the cabin behind him. 

“That would be nice.”

When they manage to get Ford out he asks Fiddleford who he is. He grabs the journal and opens to his page and explains the curse. 

“Im surprised someone like Stanley could figure out how to communicate with you.”

“I opened the portal once to get you out, I could open it again to shove you back in, again. And I know how you treated Fidds when he was cursed, you were too stupid to see he was trying to talk to you.”

“I had more important things to work on. Besides, I would have gotten it eventually.”

“Ya barely even tried…”

~~~~~

LORE

Fiddleford told his wife he wanted a divorce and she conveniently has a witch friend that she got to place a curse on him. He wasn't able to make the cure himself or be there when the ingredients were collected. When he was cursed, he was told how to make the cure and its impossible for him to forget it. He was unable to talk or write. As for how he got to Gravity Falls… something something weirdness magnet- I don't know. 

[discordiansamba]

iroh was across the threshold of the room in a flash, dragging him into a tight embrace. in any other situation, zuko probably would have complained about the lack of air, but instead he just buried his head into the crook of his uncle's neck.

"uncle," he says, "-i'm so sorry."

"i am the one who should apologize, zuko," iroh says, "-for not being able to protect you."

for a long time, they don't say anything. zuko is keenly aware that they're being watched by the avatar and his friends. seeing uncle again feels a lot like coming home, even though zuko's... unsure where home is now. he'd gotten so used to living in ba sing se.

he can't stay here, though.

everyone in this city knows his face- and knows that face belongs to lee. but zuko isn't lee anymore. he can't pretend to be him. he'd made this choice as lee, knowing that he'd have to give up the life he'd built for himself here. now that he was zuko again, he didn't think he could stomach putting on earth kingdom green and living a life of serving tea.

uncle finally pulls away from him, patting his shoulders. he tells him that he is going to make the tea this time, and that's final. zuko laughs, and lets him. it's weird. he kind of thought he would hate tea after... everything, but it's become a comfort to him. maybe it's just a trace of lee that he's never going to get rid of.

aang and his friends wisely choose to excuse themselves, to give them a bit of privacy. iroh watches them go, and tells zuko that he's proud of him for putting that past of his behind him. zuko just huffs. he congratulates his uncle on becoming fire lord.

they sit and drink tea together. iroh catches zuko up to speed on what has happened in the fire nation in his absence. zuko... hesitantly tells him a few things about his life as lee, since it's all he really has to talk about. uncle leans over the table with a leering grin when he makes the terrible mistake of bringing up jin, asking what his plans are.

"...i have no idea," zuko admits, "-i think i might actually need to see her again first. i don't know if i even still like her. i don't know if she'll even still like me."

uncle tells him that he can take as much time as he likes. he must still have lingering attachments to this city. there is no judgment in his tone. and... he's right. zuko doesn't think he'll ever be able to bring himself to put on earth kingdom green again, but he's grown fond of ba sing se. it's weird. he feels like he should hate it.

it had been his prison.

he just hadn't known it.

the next day, zuko decides to bite the bullet and go see ba sing se with his own eyes. he'd seen it before- but his time as lee had changed him. he stays in fire nation red, but he ties a wound cover around his scar to hide what it actually looks like. he can't see lee in the mirror anymore, but he knows other people likely will.

besides. it's not like he can see out of the damn eye anyways.

walking the familiar streets of the middle ring as himself is a strange experience. he knows so many of these people. for some of them he can even rattle off their usual order. some of them were even his friends. they give him an odd look as he passes, but zuko pointedly does not look at them. if he pretends he doesn't know them, it'll probably be fine.

"lee?"

two years of responding to that name has zuko turning his head before he can stop himself. thankfully, the person who called out to him is just jin.

...oh. it's jin.

...well. fuck. guess he's making this decision now.

[skeletboi]

Part 17 of the Intridmensional AU!

This one starts right at the end of the last part, so I'd suggest reading the last few lines of part 16 before diving in here!

First /// Previous /// Next

________________________________________

“Would you believe I told ol’ Fordsie here to keep his idiot brother away from his project after what happened last time, yet here you are! HAH!”

“Ford…?” Stan asked, taking a step back.

“Sixer isn't home right now! Please leave a message after the beep! BEEEEEEPPPP!” Ford said before breaking out into laughter.

“Stanford… what in tarnation…” Fiddleford asked.

Stan grabbed Fiddleford's arm and took a step back.

“Didn't I just say he wasn't home?!” Ford said, tilting his head and smiling painfully wide.

“I don't think that's Ford…” Stan said, dragging Fiddleford back another step.

“DING DING! The idiot gets one point! I figured you'd be the one to catch on first, Fiddlesticks! How disappointing! You'd think you'd be better at recognizing the man you left your wife and kid for! Hilarious! How are they, by the way?! Or did you forget them?!”

“What- Stanford…” Fiddleford said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Fidds, something is seriously wrong, that is not my brother!” Stan said.

“‘Fidds?’ Damn, lesser twin, that's cold! Ruin your brother's life then steal his ex boyfriend, too?! Hah! No wonder he hates you!”

“What are you?!” Fiddleford asked, his voice shaking.

“Haven't figured it out, specs?! Hah! I thought you were supposed to be smart! What would Fordsy ever see in you?! You noticed his ‘sleepwalking’ and ‘weird behavior’, but even when I'm right in front of you you still can't put it together!”

“You're the one who came up with the portal idea.” Fiddleford said slowly, dread sitting heavy in his stomach, freezing him in place even as not-Stanford stepped closer to him.

“DING DING! Another winner! The name's Bill! It's a displeasure to finally meet you! You humans are so stupid! Once Fordsy finishes that portal your world will be mine! And another thing-”

Stan didn't wait to hear the rest. He grabbed a wrench from a nearby work table and swung, watching in horror as Ford crumpled to the ground.

“That was still Ford.” Fiddleford said, looking seconds away from passing out.

“What else was I supposed to do?! Let him keep sayin’ nonsense?! I mean-fuck! What the hell have you two been doing?! What is this portal you keep mentioning?!”

“It's a transuniversal metavortex.” Fiddleford said quietly. “A gateway into another dimension.”

“Why in the sci-fi hell would you want to build that?!” Stan asked.

“Because! He asked me to!” Fiddleford suddenly yelled, making Stan jump.

“I thought he forgot about me, Stanley.” Fiddleford said, quieter now. “I couldn't say no ta him after he called. I reckon lookin’ back now, I shoulda said no, but he was so excited-”

“Fidds!” Stan said, drawing Fiddleford from his quiet rambling. “Blaming yourself isn't going to do anything. All three of us have made some fucked up mistakes! Right now we need to find out what the hell that thing using my brother as a puppet is before he tries to turn on that sci-fi death triangle over there!”

“Triangle.” Fiddleford mumbled.

“Yes, a triangle. Glad you caught that part.” Stan deadpanned.

“I hafta dismantle the portal.” Fiddleford said, looking across the room at the machine. “Stan! We gotta stop this! We have to stop that demon!” Fiddleford grabbed Stan's arm and dragged him towards the portal.

“Missing leg, Fidds!” Stan said, trying to keep his balance on the dirt floor as Fiddleford pulled him.

“Right, sorry Stanley. I jus’ need yer help, There’s an emergency shut off. We can shut the whole thing down, but it takes two people!” Fiddleford said quickly, letting go of Stan's arm to rummage in his pockets for a set of keys. “Take this.” he said, pulling a key off the ring and handing it to Stan. “There's a spot in the control panel o’er there. I'll count ta three, then we both gotta turn the keys. Got it?”

“Fiddleford!” They heard Ford yell from behind them.

“Shit.” Stan swore, putting the key in his pocket and turning towards Ford. “Fuck you, you weird ass demon! Leave my brother and Fiddleford alone!”

“Demon?! Stanley, what are you talking about? What the hell happened?! The last thing I remember was you and Fiddleford fighting! Did he use the gun on me?!” Ford asked, panic rising in his voice.

“You happened, asshole! Don't play dumb with me, Bill!” Stan yelled back.

“Bill?! How do you know that name?” Ford asked, dumbfounded.

“Because he possessed ya! He told us his name, Stanford! How could ya trust a demon?! What happened to the idea for this darned portal bein’ ‘hard work’?!” Fiddleford yelled, finally joining in on the fight.

“He's not a demon! He's a higher being! A Muse!” Ford said. “I gave him permission to possess me as he saw fit, I just didn't expect him to do it now!”

“He possessed ya, Ford! That sure as heck sounds like a demon ta me!” Fiddleford responded.

“He- no- he…. he's my friend!” Ford said.

“You have got to be fucking with me!” Stan yelled. “Friends don't let you possess them and then shout insults at your actual friends!”

“Insults? He- he was joking. He loves joking, that's all.” Ford said frantically, taking a few wobbly steps towards Stan.

“Goddammit, Ford. You're too smart for this!” Stan said, turning away. “We're shutting this sci-fi nightmare down.”

“No!” Ford said, running down to meet them. “Stan, you can't!”

“I'm sorry, Ford.” Fiddleford said, making his way back to the machine on the other side of the lab.

Ford grabbed Stan's arm and yanked him backwards, miscalculating the amount of force he used and accidently throwing him against the control panel. Stan glared at him and lunged, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him backwards.

“Goddammit, Sixer! We're trying to help you!” He yelled.

“Help me? You have no idea what you're doing! You know nothing about Bill!” Ford said, sounding a bit unsure and pushing Stan back.

“Uh- fellas, careful ‘round that ‘quipment, there!” Fiddleford said, but the twins ignored him.

“I know enough! I know a con man when I hear one, Ford, and that demon is the ultimate con man!” Stan yelled, trying to walk away from Ford before he hurt him again, but Ford grabbed his arm and tried to drag him away from the control panel.

“How much of a con man can he be?! He was right, after all! I should have done better to keep you away from my project!” Ford snarled.

“Fuck you, Ford. If you want to believe that fucking monster over us, than fine, but we're shutting this down!” Stan said, pushing his brother as hard as he could, sending him falling backwards onto the lever in the middle of the room.

“No!” Fiddleford yelled, but it was too late. The portal crackled to life, filling the dark lab with an eerie blue glow.

“Oh shit.” Stan said, taking a step back.

“It works.” Ford said, smiling up at the light. “It works!”

“That ain't good, Stanford!” Fiddleford said, running over to try and drag Ford away. “We need ta shut it down!”

“We are not shutting it down!” Ford said, pushing Fiddleford away.

Stan tried to pull Ford away from the machine, but forgot, in all the commotion, about Stan's new peg leg. He grew up with Stan. He had seen him stand his ground against bullies twice his size. But that was back when he had two legs to stand on, so he was thrown off guard when Stan didn't stay standing. They both slid across the ground, over the yellow line where the portal could reach, and suddenly started to float.

“What the fuck?!” Stan exclaimed, flailing his arms and looking for anything to grab onto.

“Stanford! Stanley!” Fiddleford screamed, grabbing some spare cable from the ground and running towards them. “Grab on!”

“Tie it down!” Stan yelled, as he caught the cable and grabbed Ford's arm, holding on for dear life.

“I can't!” Fiddleford said as he started to slip.

The twins were much heftier than him and his shoes were not grippy enough to keep him down. He wrapped the cord around his wrist and reached behind him, trying to grab the lever to hold himself back, but his fingers just barely grazed it.

“Do something!” Stan yelled as Ford disappeared through the blue light. “Fiddleford!”

Stan melted into the blue after Ford as Fiddleford's feet lifted from the ground.

“Well, shit.” Fiddleford said, as he fell through the portal after them.

___________________________________________

This feels a bit like a cheesy movie scene. That's all I could think while I was writing it... but hey! We made it to the portal!

There is probably some serious plot issues with this scene, like was the portal even ready? Sure it was! It's January and they were going to test it in the next day or two, so... sure it was!

Would Bill leave Ford's mind if he was unconscious? Probably!?

Does Stan not hit very hard, because Fidds and Ford were both hit, and not out for very long?! Well, he was probably subconsiously holding back a bit- this is his brother and his new friend he met a whole day ago and would fight a literal god for.

Why does Stan immediately trust and want to protect Fidds?! He just be like that, okay? Fidds is someone important to his brother, therefore worth protecting.

Okay, I'll stop now.

I start a new job tomorrow, so the updates on this might slow down a bit... sorry. I need to survive in this failing economy.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Okay here we go

Does Stanfraud's eye still bleeds, like when Bill was possessing Ford or doesn't because of his bigger connection to Ford's body?

Is Stanfraud an uncle/big brother figure to Soos, like Stanley is his dad figure? Does Bill even care about him even a little😢

I know that the main focus of this au is on Bill, but since Stanley didn't try to pretend to be Ford, how did Stanley's and Filbrick's first meeting went after the whole "getting kicked out" thing"? Especially since both Stan and Ford were definitely broke at the time

You mentioned that Bill still has access to a little portion of his powers, what are they exactly?

Anyway your au is genuinely awesome and seeing it on my dash is always a huge treat 💛💛💛

Okay the first question I really want to answer because I’ve been thinking about this:

— His eye definitely bleeds on occasion. Even though he is far more connected to Ford’s body here, he’s still a demon possessing a host. He shouldn’t be there. There’s some outer force keeping him trapped. So I have thought about the fact there would probably be some lasting impacts on the body due to possession exposure for so long, such as the eye bleeding becoming a regular problem and gradual loss of vision in that eye. There may also be other physical impacts, but I’ll work on those when I manage to get down an official design for him.

— Great News! He is like Soos’ weird uncle! That may be where he learned to be somewhat decent around kids, honestly. He absolutely tried to mess with him at first, make jabs, tell him the date of his death, attempt to drive him to madness just a little (this is why Stan had to get rid of the last handyman), but Soos proved to be incorruptible and took all of Stanfraud’s weirdness in stride. Bill does end up caring about him. He goes as far as to liking their conversations. Soos keeps up with his chaos! Even Bill isn’t sure what’s going on in that head of his (when he gets his own body back he’s going to find out).

— Though Bill is the main focus of the plot-change, the other aspects are equally as important and so I’m glad they also have people’s interest! Their first meeting is… tense, to say the least. If Filbrick has any regrets, which I think I’ll leave up to interpretation, he’s far too stubborn a man to show them, and would rather dig himself further into a hole than admit he made a mistake. Stan desperately just wants to ignore all the scathing comments and get this little reunion over with, until Filbrick makes a comment about Ford, then Stan snaps. You can insult him, he probably deserves it, but not his brother. Sure, they may not be his brother right now, but the intent is there, and that’s what counts.

It cuts everything short, with Stan grabbing Fraud and telling him they’re leaving (He doesn’t complain).

With Filbrick, I do kind of want to explore their dynamic over the years while he’s still alive, especially with Stan, but also with how he’d treat ‘Ford’ and his odder behaviour. I don’t want to just make Filbrick a one-dimensional character though, as I think there’s a lot to be said about the cycle of abuse and parental projection so. While the AU may be based around the question ‘what if Bill got stuck possessing Ford?’ The answers it has lead me down a lot of different paths to explore — such as this!

— The powers he has access too lessen over time, but currently he is somewhat capable of seeing potential future outcomes (ciphervoyance), pyrokinesis, telekinesis, faster healing factor and teleportation. Note that all of these are in a much weaker state and drain Ford’s body and by extension Bill heavily — especially teleportation. Doing that once can cause him to pass out, so it’s more of an emergency thing, most his abilities are honestly. Too much focus is required.

And I’m so happy to be a little treat on your dash!! I hope you enjoy all this just as much!

[leggerefiore]

so I have an angst request that I’m wondering if you could do. I love the fankids but I’m wondering if for some reason the fankids end up in another world. Where they don’t exist. Their respective parents exist but due to some nonsense (Cyrus and his refusal to stop, Grimsley cheating, Nanu pushing reader away) their parents never got together and now they are stuck in such an unfamiliar place without the comfort of their parents. They stay with reader and the pokemen realize that in another world they are happy and have a loving family. So lots of angst from all sides until one day the real parents come to rescue their children and take them away. Leaving the people in this weird world confused and in despair. Hope that makes sense! Idk why I am in such a mood lol

cw: angst, some (not) parental arguing in cyrus's part, cheating in grimsley's, fankids amuck

characters: Grimsley, Cyrus, Nanu

i wrote this for no one to read lmao. changed the request a bit sorryyyy

interesting

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ Nero held tightly onto Morrigan as they looked around at their surroundings. It was still Alola, same as ever. A place he originally had been upset about moving to, yet now it was a comfort to see. The Ultra Wormhole had been a surprise, both had not been expected such a thing to just pull them in. Nanu had warned them – Telling them stories of fallers without memories ending up in unknown places. They had not had their memories scrambled, at least. Well, he had not. Morrigan had fallen unconscious. It seemed that it likely had just looped them back around. He bravely supported his twin on his shoulder and headed towards the nearest pokemon centre.

♡ Yet, as he headed to the one near the Tapu Village, he passed a familiar man. A man who was just about to walk past them when he felt his annoyance spike. How could he ignore his son and daughter like that!? It was frustrating enough that his father never seemed to learn from his mistakes. His glare seemed to make the gambler come to a stop. “… May I help you?” he asked, “Are you playing the hero to a helpless damsel with the hopes of winning big in the end?” Nero felt like gagging. That was his sister.

◇ “… You're not funny, dad,” Nero grumbled, “Help me with Morrigan. She's been unconscious for a minute, and I'm seriously worried.” He went to move his sister to the older man, but Grimsley took a step back. Icy blue eyes observed him for too closely before switching to Morrigan. He cocked up a brow and brought a hand to his chin. “… Dad,” Nero urged, “Seriously. Help. This is your daughter. Don't you care about her?” This once more caught the gambler off guard. There was much pondering.

♧ “Can you tell your parent I don't appreciate being informed of such a monumental thing in this way?” was Grimsley's reply, “Do they want child support or something? I'm completely broke these days. They played their hot hand too late.” Nero felt frustrated. Was he mocking them? This truly was not the time. He felt Morrigan begin to stir. Her head lifted as she looked around and grasped her head. Then, her gaze landed on Grimsley.

♤ “Dad!” she smiled and moved to hug the gambler, “Nero and I got pulled into one of the Ultra Wormholes!” Grimsley awkwardly dodged her affection. She tilted her head, unsure if this was her dad messing with her. “… Well, I guess it was mostly my fault,” she admitted, “The thrill of whether we would end up in some strange alien world was too much to resist.” His expression was strange at her words. She shrunk back. He almost looked like he was regarding her as one might an insect.

♡ “… I don't know what lies you have been fed,” he let out a breath, “But, I have little interest in being a dad. I doubt you're my only children out there. Just because I had some on and off again relationship with your parent doesn't mean I'm interested in you.” He shook his head. Morrigan took a step back, confused. It was the first time in her like in which her father had ever spoken so harshly to him. Nero stepped forward and stomped a foot at him, already sick of his shit. Whatever game he was playing at, he was taking too far. Being cruel to Morrigan for seemingly no reason and insulting their other parent was too much. Grimsley actually looked a bit intimidated. “… They should have told you this. I made that clear before we broke up.”

◇ Both stood shocked. Broken… up? Neither could recall their parents being unhappy with another despite the circumstance that had happened to them. In fact, if anything, their other parent had been happy Grimsley had more time to lavish on them. Both looked at one another in horror at the thought. This had to be another world. Or Grimsley was really messing with him, but both could tell his expression was too real. “… What?” he questioned, cooking a brow at the twins, “Did they not tell you? Apparently, when I started dating them, I wasn't supposed to keep sleeping around.” Nero had to be physically held back. Though, it did confirm that this was not their world.

♧ Before the situation could intensify any further, a familiar voice called out their names. Both stood astonished when their father seemingly appeared with you in strange not-quite spacesuits. The other Grimsley took a few steps back when his counterpart removed his helmet. “… Oh, man, you two actually nearly gave me a heart attack,” he seemingly ignored his lookalike to approach the two kids, “You certainly did Nanu. The old man was calling all the shots on your missing investigation. Didn't think he was that attached to you both.” He brought a hand to rest on each of their shoulders. Morrigan soon shoved Nero out of the way to cling to Grimsley. Nero watched as the other one observed how you approached them, too, smiling softly. He should have felt at ease.

♤ “… What a situation,” the other Grimsley remarked, placing a hand on his hip. It was clear that he could comprehend this scene. Yes, he understood Ultra Wormholes thanks to Nanu's badgering about avoiding them, but here stood a testament to something far greater than his understanding. Something inside of him twisted at the sight of the happy family. It was something that he never desire, but he could observe the genuine smile on his counterpart's face. “… Did something happen to your head?” he questioned his alternate self.

♡ That Grimsley managed to escape his daughter's hold. Turning to his counterpart, he tilted his head. “… Nope,” his simple reply was with a shrug, “I fell in love. I simply couldn't resist them, and now I've built myself up something. It's better than any high from a thrill.” He pointed the twins to follow you as he headed away. “When you really want something as yours… It drives you into a special kind of madness.” He bid his counterpart farewell and walked over wrap an arm around his partner's waist.

That Grimsley pondered if he could have ended up like his counterpart.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ Cyllene would admit she was perhaps a little too playful. Even if she was a child, there were certain things she knew better than to do yet still did. Engaging with Palkia was chief among them. The legendary had opened a portal, and she, curious crawled in. Which led to her seemingly being atop Mt Coronet. She was lost as to what had happened, but simply assumed that Palkia had created a portal to the top of the mountain. She opted against thinking too much on it, as nothing was immediately odd or uncommon. That was until she found herself riding the train back towards Veilstone. Most people glanced at her strangely. It made her a bit nervous, but she otherwise made her home trip as normal.

☄️ The glances in Veilstone were far more intense as she was spotted by some Galactic grunts. She tilted her head at their reaction. They gazed at her like some unexpected oddity. She ignored them and simply made her way to apartment her family resided in. It was only as she approached the door that she realised she did not have her key. Nervously, she brought her tiny fist to knock against the door. It was quiet for far too long until the speaker beside the door beeped on. “… Are you lost?” It was unmistakably the voice of her father, “There is a police box just a few buildings down. They can help out find your parents.” Cyllene stood stunned. Her eyes went wide, and her heart raced in her chest. Her father was not one for such jokes. Tears burned her eyes.

☄️ “… F-Father…?” her voice was small. The PA system was quiet for but a moment. Then a reply. A simple questioning, “Pardon?” Cyllene moved closer to the speaker, knowing it doubled as a camera. “… Dad…” she begged, “Please…. please don't tease me…” She felt like crying. More silence followed before the door clicked open to reveal the man who was no doubt her father. He was wearing more casual clothing and his hair was unstyled, but it was him. She clung to his legs and felt herself begin to cry. Why was he being mean to her?

☄️ This Cyrus stood stunned, however, at this little girl who stood outside his home. He was no fool. The resemblance was plain as day. This child was a relative of his, if not directly related to him. Some horrible sense of empathy burned in his hardened heart as she wept. Instinct got the better of him as he knelt down and rested a hand on her back. Her reactions… They reminded him of someone. He swallowed. Judging by her age… It was not illogical to assume a possibility that she was… He sighed. “There, there…” his voice was soft, “… Are you claiming that you are my daughter?”

☄️ Cyllene nodded. She could not fathom her own father not recognising her. Had he attempted to mess with the Lake Guardians once again? Her panic led to her gripping his arms tightly. “Father…” she mumbled. His eyes went wide. Another question came from him. A question about her whole parentage. Cyllene blinked at this one. “… My other parent is…” A familiar name left her. Cyrus was frozen by her words. His theory… It was correct. How could this be? The question was about to leave him before he finally motioned her in the apartment.

☄️ Cyllene was further shocked at the state of it. There was no trace of family home she had come to know. Nothing of the small projects she had worked on with her father or the bed for Weavile in the living room. It was dark and seemingly mostly unused. Slowly, it finally set in about what had occurred. She felt sick. All she wanted was her Rotom toy or her bed or for her father to sit her in his lap and explain a star map to her. Instead, she was stuck with an alternate reality version of her father. One who clearly did not recognise her. More tears escaped her eyes. This Cyrus seemed to attempt to comfort her again.

☄️ Forcing down her torment, she was faced with a situation. Yet, before she could be given a chance to explain, her father had out his phone and was making a phone call. His tone was reserved, but Cyllene recognised the voice on the other end of the call. A demand was made for them to meet him at once. Seemingly, they relented after a bit of back and forth. Cyrus informed her she would be back with her other parent soon enough. Yet, they needed to have a chat before he handed her back off. Cyllene felt bewildered. There was no time to object when he grasped her hand tugged her along to a certain building in Veilstone. There stood another, waiting with their arms crossed and clear frustration on their face. Though, this was changed when they saw Cyrus approach with Cyllene.

☄️ “Why did you fail to tell me of our child!?” Cyrus's voice was a rare kind of loud and aggressive. Cyllene was startled away from him due to it. Her other parent stood shocked, too. Their eyes went to Cyllene and back to Cyrus. A simple response of not knowing failed to appease the man. The two soon fell into an argument, making Cyllene curl into herself. Panic burned inside her and made her arms feel numb. All she could do was tap to two stones she found on the ground together. It only seemed to grow worse and worse until finally a voice cut through the fighting.

☄️ “Cyllene.” Her head whipped up as tears fell from her eyes. There, approaching from stairs leading up to the Galactic building was another Cyrus. His gaze was firmly on her. Her legs had never moved so quickly. This version of the Galactic Boss caught her and held her tightly to himself. Another person ran up the stair to them. You. Her eyes burned as you brought a hand gently to comb through her hair. The alternate pair of you both came to an abrupt silence.

☄️ “… What is this?” the Cyrus of this world asked. The Cyrus she knew shook his head. “… Pointless to discuss such things. The idea of parallel worlds existing is something that you are no doubt aware of,” was his reply, “It seems we are two versions of the same person who engaged with different choices. Intriguing.” He clutched Cyllene tighter to himself. The other Cyrus nodded. The other you stood shocked at how close you were to your Cyrus. “… I apologise. We will be correcting this error,” with those words, Cyllene was lifted into the air and carried away by her father to a nearby portal.

Somehow, she felt as if those two had been changed by the experience.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 Ohi'a would admit what he did was dumb. And, without a doubt, would piss off his dad. The geezer probably would be ready to kill him and then himself if he learnt that he got pulled in an Ultra Wormhole. It really had not been his fault. A toddler almost pulled in, and he dumbly rushed over to push them out of the way. He, instead, was sucked in. Yet… Despite all the horror stories of fallers and Miss Anabel's own existence, he did not fell discombobulated nor without his memories. Looking around, in fact, he still just seemed to be in Alola. The same as ever. He shrugged it off and headed back towards the Po Town police station. He needed to discuss whatever happened with his dad even if it was going to be a pain in the ass. He could already feel the hardened glare of the Kahuna piercing his soul.

🌑 He found himself approaching the station, seeing a familiar man and girl outside the door. Both turned to glance at him strangely. Ohi'a cocked up a brow at them. Acerola approached him with a bright smile and asked if he was lost. He was bewildered. Lost? He lived here. His gaze drifted to his dad, who was trying to pretend that he was not there. “… Huh?” he finally spoke, “… It's me. Ohi'a. I live here.” Acerola's head tilted while Nanu's attention finally shifted onto him.

🌑 “… In Alola?” Nanu finally cut in, carefully treading over, “Where, boy? You aren't trying to join Team Skull, are you?” His hands were in his pockets. Those crimson eyes stared into his own matching ones as if attempting to intimidate him. Ohi'a's nose scrunched up. What? He was acting extremely suspicious towards him. Why? Acerola was even treating him like an anomaly, too. It stung more than he would like to admit. Was this some kind of punishment? It was not like his father at all. Nanu could be a bit of a hard ass, but nothing cruel. Something was wrong here.

🌑 “… No. I mean…” Ohi'a trailed off, pondering what to say. The idea of parallel realities was no unknown to him. That one trainer on their island challenge had told him about their travels in the Ultra Wormhole. An alternate reality, far into the future of a destroyed Hau'Oli city. He stiffened up. Bringing his hand to the back of his neck, he sighed. “… Look, I don't think you'll believe me, but I fell through an Ultra Wormhole,” he explained. Nanu tensed up visibly at his words. “Through some struck of luck, I still have my memories,” he met his gaze, “… No idea what's going on in this world, but in mine, you're my old man.”

🌑 Nanu registered his words in an instant. The suspicion towards him somehow seemed to both fall and increase. Shaking his head, a sigh left him. Acerola gasped at Ohi'a's words and looked between Nanu and him. The Kahuna motioned for him to follow him into the police station. He waved Acerola off, too. Both of them sat in the station for a moment in silence. Ohi'a took in that it seemed much more… different from his memories. A single couch for sleeping. Nothing really to survive on. Some take-out and instant ramen about. “… So, can I ask who your other parent is?” he finally broke the silence. Something told Ohi'a that he already had an idea. His reply of a certain name only got a nod. “Figured…” He sighed, “… Am I a happy family man in your world or something?”

🌑 “… Nope,” Ohi'a replied, watching a Meowth approach him and give his hand a sniff. He brought a hand to pet the pokemon. Its soft fur, a familiar comfort. Nanu observed the interaction. “You're exactly the same, but you're married,” he shrugged, “… I guess you get busy with us, though. Tapu Bulu seems quite happy you had a kid.” Nanu scoffed at that. “I need to get back, you know” he continued, “My parents… They'll end up worried. You seem to think I'm more trouble than I'm worth until something happens to me.”

🌑 Nanu glanced at him. “… Are they happy?” he asked seriously. Ohi'a thought on his family for a moment. It was difficult to tell with how tormented Nanu could be, but he knew his father simply enjoyed the peacefulness of being in a loving relationship. You adored Nanu, often being far too affectionate for either of their tastes, but the small smile on his father's lips. You were happy as can be. Despite everything, he felt his family life was healthy. His parents were in a loving relationship, and they both cared for him.

🌑 “… Pretty much,” he nodded, “… What happened here?” He glanced at the alternate version of his father. Nanu shook his head. Ohi'a felt curious. His father always seemed quite attached to his other parent, typically being quite open to whatever they wanted simply to appease them or make them happy. Granted, it was still in his usual lazy fashion, but it was much like a cat putting up with its owner annoying it out of love. “Are you not together?” Another head shake. Ohi'a felt his heart drop. It was already strange enough being in a world where he did not exist, but his parents not being together felt strangely more difficult.

🌑 Before the conversation could grow any deeper, the door to the station opened, revealing three people in strange suits. Ohi'a recognised them as the attire of the Ultra Recon Squad. Stepping in, one removed their helmet to meet the eyes of the other two. Another Nanu. It felt like something out of a bad movie. “… There you are,” he walked to Ohi'a, “… You're more trouble than you're worth, boy.” The boy rolled his eyes in return. The other person revealed themselves to be you as you rushed over to hug him. He groaned at the tightness. The third actually seemed to be one of the Ultra Recon members.

🌑 The other Nanu relaxed as the recon member explained that they had a way to safely return to their original world. Yet, he felt himself staring at the family for far too long. Everything he had rejected because he felt so unworthy stood right in front of him. His counterpart met his eye. “Thanks for watching over him,” he nodded, “I apologise if he caused any problems.” The Kahuna shook his head. As the four departed from the station, he sat alone for a moment in deep thought.

Maybe he should contact them. It probably was not too late.

[lightlycareless]

i just read ur reader piercing naoya's ear fic and i was wondering can u write smth about naoya finding out reader got their belly button pierced? xx

Hello!!!

Did someone say smut? because that's what we got. I think hehe. I'm still somewhat uncomfortable writing it but you know what they say!! practice makes perfect 🙈🙈🙈 Anyways, thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask!!!!! 🥺 it took me a while to get an idea of what I wanted to write, but here we are :> I hope its to your liking!

Also, I believe this is the fic anon is referring to :> If not then gee I've written more about piercings that I've ever expected lol.

warnings: smut. MINORS DNI. you get a piercing and decide to... act weird about it. naoya does not like it :)

Happy reading!

How you managed to hide your piercing from his ever-wandering hands is a commendable feat, even after all went down, you still don’t know how you did it.

Though all this could’ve been easily avoided in the first place if you hadn’t convinced yourself to do it after seeing a particular photoshoot and thinking “I can look just as good.”

As well as believing this would further spice up your life with Naoya. Like it wasn’t spiced enough!

But only after you surpass both your embarrassment and heal; unfortunately, the former only growing stronger and stronger upon realizing this was far more than what you bargained for.

You initially try to play it off as being sick whenever he gets too close. Not in the mood, even. “I’m dizzy.” “My head hurts.” “I’m on my period.” Are just a few of the excuses you deployed.

And your loving husband, always the (surprisingly) patient one, takes it, because he supposes that for his ever-willing wife he could allow these exceptions. Thus, right after you reject him, he cuddles up to you and falls asleep.

However, his tolerance quickly ends when understanding this wasn’t to be a 1-week occurrence. But rather, a monthly endeavor that soon turned his everyday into utter punishment.

Naoya frantically attempted to make sense of it all. Think that perhaps the reason behind your distance was because of some unknown issue that troubled your mind; you always tended to keep things to yourself, even if he’s countlessly assured you he could fix all of your problems—he just needs to know them first.

…

But even then… Naoya could not understand how easily you were able to detach from him. Because to him… to do so meant death itself.

The problem wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Naoya had more than enough means to keep you satisfied however you needed it, and he made sure of that too.

Thus, at the lack of answers, he begins to feel threatened. Intimidated. Replaceable.

And we all know how Naoya gets when feeling such way.

“Princess, you will explain yourself—now.” Naoya demands, his abrupt, towering presence forcing you deeper into the bedroom, nowhere to escape.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You gasp, a blatant lie that only served to bury you deeper into your mistakes.

“Oh, no. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, mochi.”

If you hadn’t transgressed Naoya, you would’ve found his approach very, very inciting.

Unfortunately, even if you wished to go down that path, your dear husband was far too infuriated by your ridiculous behavior to consider anything else that wasn’t confronting you.

“Why are you avoiding me? And don’t even try to get out of this one, I’ve been patient enough.”

You knew this moment was fast approaching; only a matter of time before you ran out of excuses… or patience to abuse.

There’s only so much he’s willing to tolerate before he… well, you don’t want to think about it.

“I’m just… I just— I don’t know how to tell you…” you breathe.

“How to tell me what?”

“Do you promise to not get angry at me?”

“I’m not sure if I can promise that.” He frowns. You swallow.

“…at least not too much?”

Naoya squints his eyes, as if considering it. You knew he wouldn’t, you were in the wrongdoing after all.

“Just don’t judge me, please.” You eventually profess, and after taking one last breath, you reach for your obi and untie it, careful to not reveal too much but just enough to show the bare skin of your abdomen—

And the shiny addition to your navel.

Naoya couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“Is that all, princess?” He chuckles loudly, like you just told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. You do not find it amusing. “Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me??”

“Y—yeah I—I guess!” You frown, cheeks burning hot. “Don’t make fun of me, I was really hesitant whether to tell you or not!”

“Really? For this silly little thing?”

“It wasn’t silly to me, Naoya!” you cry.

“Alright, alright—I didn’t mean to upset you.” He says, curiously attempting to reach for your piercing before you smack him away. “Hey!”

You glance away, placing your obi back in place.

“Come on now, you don’t have to hide it from me.” Naoya smirks, stepping closer. “Hey, princess—”

“It’s still healing.” You quietly explain; a partial reasoning behind your dismissal.

“Ah, so you’re telling me you wouldn’t like me to help you?” He enticed, you retreated further into the wall; if possible. “I have more than enough experience with piercings, there’s no one in the estate more qualified than me.”

“Don’t misinterpret my words, you know I didn’t mean... that.” You caution, though he spoke nothing but the truth.

“Is that a yes?” Naoya continues, placing his fingers under your chin and pulling your gaze back to his.

“…only if you don’t make fun of me.” You eventually agree, and he seals the deal with a chaste kiss on your lips, followed by a tight hug that has you whining in pain. “Na—Naoya!”

“Oh, princess, I’m sorry.” Naoya says, quickly releasing you. “You poor thing… is this how it’s been since?”

You nod.

“Well, you’re in good hands now; and luckily for you, I know just the right thing that will ease your pain.”

Had you known Naoya would completely dedicate his time to make sure you weren’t passing any discomfort, then maybe you would’ve told him of your small endeavor from the very beginning.

It just… to see him so enthralled by your impulsive decision, you couldn’t help but wonder how different everything would’ve been if you had decided otherwise.

As well as how much you exaggerated your worries; hadn’t your husband consistently proven how far he’s willing to go just to make you happy?

From whatever craving you desired (but nothing that would hinder your healing process) to the endless kisses he’d place on your navel—as if he weren’t sufficiently hypnotized by your body, your piercing heightened that desire—Naoya was all yours. Completely allured.

But mostly by the rush he got at being the only person to know of the debauchery that hid beneath the pristine, meek and obedient look you carried around the estate; fitting to the wife of the future leader of the Zen’in— the same woman many admire by her gentleness, how you’re his living contrast, his better half; never daring to be as outrageous at he is!

If only they knew the truth.

No. It was better if they didn’t. He’d fervently keep all this enjoyment for himself.

“St—stop, Naoya!” you cry, squirming beneath his touch that roamed across your body, caressing the places where he’d like to taint next, such as your now sensitive nipples, which he’d squeeze and pinch incessantly for you to suffer in the following days.

Or your twitching clit, grazing it with no particular desire outside of tormenting you with pleasure. Remind you who really was in charge of your mere existence.

Yet, nothing compared to the way his cock plunged into your warm, tight walls—choking him so painfully exquisite, Naoya can’t help but moan whenever you do. Keeping your hips steady as he gives you all that he could not these past few months—blinding your sight with stars when bruising that one spot that always has you coming undone, which you desperately grasp whenever possible, wanting to steady that agonizing sensation.

Because as cruelly as your husband teased you, you equally desired to pour out all the desire you bottled up by a silly fear, let him enjoy the gift that was always meant for him. Your role in this marriage.

“It—it hurts—Naoya—!” you whimper, a profession Naoya was quick to interject as a lie given the way your cunt refused to stop milking him.

“Hmmm, it does, doesn’t it?” He breathes against your skin, placing ardent kisses across your cheek down to your neck as his hands reached for one of your nipples once more, giving it a particularly tight pinch that made you squeal.

“N—Naoya—!”

“Would it hurt here too, if you got a piercing?” he ponders curiously, another wave of excitement travelling all the way down to his member, which you felt grow even harder, bigger at the thought. Hips unwavering as if he were attempting to drill the proposition deeper and deeper into you.

Naoya was pretty much depraved when it came to your breasts, his hands or mouth always on them whenever possible; So, with this, you fear your chest will never know peace again.

But it doesn’t frighten you. In fact, you are willing to entertain such an idea. Endure the pain that follows this decision—for him to completely succumb to you.

“Would you do that for me, princess?” Naoya gasps, plummeting faster, stronger into you in that familiar sloppy way that signaled to you he was dangerously close.

You instinctively, as if second nature, wrap your legs around him, keeping him close, right there, followed by the agonizing tightness of you walls that soon make his voice tremble—stopping any silly consideration he might’ve had of spilling his seed anywhere else except where you deserved… though Naoya never entertained otherwise.

“Show how much you truly love me, by—by doing this?” he gasps, firmly shutting his eyes to not urge his release at the sight of your bouncing breasts.

“N—Naoya—!” you gasp, pulling him closer to you and captivating his lips in a heated kiss. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues intertwined with one another. “Ah—Naoya~! I—”

“Ple—Please, Y/N!” He suddenly begins to beg, now delirious with pleasure. “Please—Please do it for me, princess, you don’t know how happy this would make me—how much I wanted this!”

The combination of your devotion, your sweet whines, the tightness of your core, and the eagerness in the markings in his back is his ultimate downfall, just a few more thrusts and the first spurts of his burning seed spill deep within you—ropes of white covering your walls which you welcome almost jealously, as if wasting the smallest drop was the highest sacrilege.

And to a longing mother, it just might—but beneath your desires of a family, you wished to welcome back the husband your actions had unwillingly estranged: his intoxicating scent, the strength he’s amassed throughout years thanks to his strict routine, his burning touch tracing your skin with invisible lines…

But most importantly, his love, which you tightly held onto as he came down from his high, resting on your chest as he lets out a deep sigh, still plugged into you, just as he’d done the past few times in hopes his seed will finally take root. Naoya wishes to be a father too, and the thought always makes your heart flutter.

It’s the look of a man well satisfied. A man that has wholeheartedly committed to you, body and soul…

A husband that deserves to be rewarded, consoled. Urging you to speak coherently for the first time that night and let him know he no longer stands alone.

“I’ll do it.” You say, Naoya snuggles closer to you.

“Hm?”

“The piercing thing. I’ll do it, if that’s what you want.”

“The… oh.” Naoya blinks, moments of his passion suddenly flash back to his mind. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s spoken at the heat of the moment, nor the last.

“Do you really… want me to do that?” you murmur hesitantly. “Get another piercing?”

And for a few seconds, the two remain in complete silence, whether enjoying the intimacy he’s been cruelly deprived from, or considering your words… it didn’t matter. Neither wanted this moment to stop.

It was simply… perfect. Just the two, with each other’s heartbeat to fill the quietness in the room—and the doubts in your mind.

“No.” Naoya eventually confesses, placing a kiss on your skin. “I do not.”

Because as much as the idea enthralled him, he didn’t want to force anything on you. Certainly not for a piece of metal.

“You’re perfect to me like this. With or without piercings.”

Your heart tightens at his words.

“You don’t mind the one I already have, then?” you ask, he laughs. As if it hadn’t just shown you.

“No. Not at all; I didn’t think you could be any hotter, and yet, here you are… proving me wrong, my adorable lava cake.”

You frown at the gross nickname, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

“Hey! What’s with the aggression?” He jests, but you simply hug him tighter, closer to you. “Is that how you treat the husband that had so lovingly filled you with his seed—"

“Shut up, don’t be crude!” You say, resting your head on his. After a few moments of silence, calming down, you declare: “…I love you.”

Naoya lets out a breathy chuckle, succumbing to your affection moments before his slumber.

“I love you more, my little mochi.”

Oh, how could you ever doubt his affection?

I always suspected Y/N to be more of a tattoo kind of person; idk why, but I think it would complement each other nicely too. Naoya is with the piercings, and you with the tattoo's. We all known which one he'd like.

Also, I will never tire myself of writing Naoya as completely gross with you. Like, the mere thought of you hiding such a simple piercing from him is OOF he loves it. I mean, without the constant pushing him away lol But yeah, watching you walk around in one of those traditional yukatas with your hair all pulled up in the most appropriate way ever, looking to appease the Zen'in only for him to be like:

"Yeah, you see her? No one would suspect my wife has her nipples pierced." IS SUCH a HUGE turn on to him. Maybe you do get them later on, who knows? 😏

Anyways, I hope you liked this small thing I wrote 🫣 I shall continue to strive improving my smut skills, sometimes I get so inspired, sometimes... I don't even know what I'm doing :'(

Well, still; I wish y'all enjoy it. Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! This is my first time requesting sorry if it’s bad .. but could you write one where reader used to be in a bit of an abusive relationship so when she got with Donna she wasn’t used to the kinda of care and sweet things she would do for her and doesn’t understand why Donna would do anything like that for someone like her. Then one day maybe they are out at the duke or something and reader is talking to an friend and Donna gets jealous and quiet on the way back and reader starts to get very anxious thinking Donna will do something to her like her last relationship. When they get home Donna is acting kinda weird and immediately goes to the basement after a little while of Donna being gone reader goes to confront her about it and then donna goes a little bit crazy and hits her fist on her workbench and then when she comes out of her little episode she’s you crying and feels really REALLY bad about it.

You can end it with smut or fluff I’m good with whatever. So sorry my grammar is buns I suck at writing and I love your story’s to I read them all the time!❤️

Yesss!!! Welcome to the requesting world!!! Thank you for your request and support!!! I'm sorry if it's a bit dark, and I have to say I didn't put smut due to the plot, but I hope you can enjoy it the same way!!! Sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

Demons of past, demons of mind

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, dark themes, mentions of abuse, Donna being Donna, mental health issues, slighty dark Donna, fluff

Word count: 7,930

Summary: You have your demons, she has them too...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

You never liked masses.

It's not that you had anything against the Black Gods or Mother Miranda, it's just that meeting the whole village, enduring those curious glances and unconsciously looking for signs of any threat weren't your favorite way to spend the time.

Staying alone in that big mansion wasn't the best option either. Besides, you knew that she didn't like the idea of ​​abandoning you. You couldn't be ungrateful. You would always do anything she asked of you.

Miranda's words slipped through your ears as you curled up on one of the first benches. You didn't want to be far from her. Villagers like you were supposed to be scared and respectful of the authorities of that place.

For you, the Four Lords weren’t an imminent danger, or at least they didn't make your chest knot or make you feel dizziness. Yes, you feared them, but that was long before you knew the true dangers of that place.

Knowing all your neighbors could be considered an advantage, it could seem cozy and comfortable, but in your case it wasn't exactly like that. As a young girl, barely 23 years old, you had been through too many hardships and none of them had to do with the influence of the Black Gods, or at least that's what you thought.

Your eyes danced around the crowd as your body slowly shrank. In your head you followed the witch's words, trying to count the time left until you were free again. You weren't scared, but without the lady in black at your side, you didn't feel safe.

“May the Black Gods protect us,” Miranda said, ending that sermon.

Everyone in the church repeated those words of liberation, forming a murmur that accompanied the movement. You had to assume that, of course, everyone present had better things to do than listen to Miranda's words since they wasted no time in getting up.

Before you could really be aware of everyone who had come to the old chapel, you stood up, getting closer to the altar, where the Four Lords patiently watched the walk of their flock.

A smile of relief ran across your face as you stood next to her, next to the veiled lady, with your eyes expectant, wanting to go home. Her head turned to you, silently, but surely with a smile under the black cloth.

Lady and doll stood up from their seat, walking slowly towards you.

“Wait a moment, Donna,” Miranda said when the doll maker had already let your arm hook into hers.  “I have something to tell you.”

You, disappointed, looked at her invisible face as she lowered her hand to yours.

“Your cupcake can wait outside, right?” the witch said, looking at you, making you feel those grey eyes on your chest, those eyes always covered by a golden mask.

“Wait for me, (Y/N), I'll be right there,” the lady whispered in your ear, letting your hand go and indicating with a gesture for you to go out.

You didn't insist. Being with Donna was always your priority, but to be honest, you weren't too interested in Miranda's affairs, you were much happier not knowing what she was up to that time.

You sighed as you nodded, slowly walking out of the chapel, away from the crowd. It would only be a moment and there was nothing to worry about, right?

In an attempt to distract yourself, you looked up at the sky. The clouds, as always, were as black as the Gods, as black as your past, dark, impenetrable, constant...

You sketched a smile as you waited, as you watched people slowly walk away, without paying attention to you, just as you liked to live. Questions and rumors were never to your liking.

“(Y/N),” a voice you recognized instantly, took you out of those thoughts of relief.

You hoped to have given up your torments, but that day had an unpleasant surprise in store for you.

Automatically, your head lowered to the snowy ground, showing an absurd respect that your body maintained even with the new circumstances.

“Becca,” you whispered without looking at that girl in the face.

“I see that you continue to get lost in your thoughts,” the girl sighed, approaching you with a smug smile. “Pathetic.”

“C-Can you leave me alone?” you asked in a small voice, feeling the girl's steps in the snow as a countdown to suffering. “I don't want to talk to you.”

“Of course, you don't want to talk to me, you never wanted to, right?” the girl said, crossing her arms. “I always had to force the words out of your mouth, how rude.”

“I-I have nothing to say to you, Becca,” you whispered, noticing how sweat began to accumulate on your hands.

“Oh, me neither,” she said mockingly, tilting her head. “I'm glad I don't have to put up with you anymore.”

“W-Well, then... what do you want?” you asked, your whole body stiff and tense. “You left me.”

“If I remember correctly, you provoked it, (Y/N),” Becca insisted, spitting out her words in an unpleasant way. “You never knew how to treat me properly.”

“Was it my fault?” you asked, backing away, drawing out some courage, the little you had left. “You made my life a hell.”

“Because of you, (Y/N), I see you still haven't learned to be assertive,” the girl murmured, shaking her head. “Luckily for you, you don't owe me anything anymore. My new girlfriend is better than you.”

“Do you hit her too?” you asked, with your tense gaze fixed on the ground.

“She behaves much better than you,” your ex hissed, blinking petulantly.

“I feel sorry for her,” you whispered, turning your head to the chapel door, wishing she would appear to save you.

“What did you say?” Becca asked, grabbing your arm tightly, causing the painful memories of your relationship to immobilize you. “You're still stupid. You may not be mine anymore, but I can still…”

“Hey!” a scream caught your attention.

Just when you thought you were about to receive another undeserved punishment, the girl let you go, surely, seeing the lady in black behind you holding the Angie doll, owner of that shrill voice.

“Donna,” you sighed, breaking free from Becca's grip and cowardly running to take refuge behind the lady.

“Who are you, stupid?!” Angie asked, with a demanding tone. It was impossible for you to tell if Angie was speaking, or Donna was the one demanding answers but you didn't really care who it was.

“Lady Beneviento, I...” your ex-girlfriend murmured, moving away from you. “N-Nobody, I'm nobody.”

“You're nobody? Fine, then get out of our sight,” Angie said, gesturing towards the road.

The girl shook her head as you tightly grabbed the arm of the woman in black, who remained motionless, threatening.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” Becca said, quickly fleeing the scene, causing the puppet to laugh triumphantly.

“If you come near her again, I won't be so kind, stupid!” Angie shouted while laughing amused. “Look how she runs, Donna, you scared her.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured discreetly, turning to look at you. “(Y/N), lasciami.”

“I'm sorry,” you said nervously, realizing that you were holding your girlfriend with excessive strength, due to fear. “T-Thank you…”

“Thank you? Why? Who was it?” the doll maker asked, grabbing you gently and starting to walk, finally returning to the mansion.

“Nobody,” you murmured, finally finding the comfort of her body very close to yours as the village grew ever further away.

“You're lying to me,” the lady said, walking slower, looking at you, surely, with a frown.

“No, I...” you stammered. “It's just that...”

You didn't want to lie to Donna, but you never dared to talk about your past with her. Not out of fear, but rather so as not to remind the hell you lived through.

“Who was she, silly? It seems you knew each other,” Angie said, insisting, just like her owner.

“Yes, well, the truth is that she is... my ex,” you finally said, lowering your head without releasing the lady, who turned slowly, but didn’t stop walking.

“Your ex,” Donna repeated with a sigh, looking at you out of the corner of her eye through the gaps in her veil.

“She wasn't nice to me,” you said with a weak voice due to your horrible memories, with the pain of her slaps still impregnated in your cheeks. “I know I hadn't told you much about her, but I just didn't want to remember and…”

“So she was the reason you were crying when I met you,” the lady said, with a voice apparently devoid of emotions.

“Yes,” you said dryly, getting closer to the lady, who, apparently, understood your concern, surrounding you with her arms as if she wanted to protect you. “I didn't expect to find her again.”

“Do you want me to kill her?” she asked, making a shiver run down your spine.

“What?” you asked scared. “N-No, of course I don’t,” you said, shaking your head effusively, moving away from her. “No, Donna.”

“Hey, if that stupid girl hurt you, why don't you let Donna punish her? She'll do it gladly, right?” Angie said, with a sinister voice.

You regretted thinking, for a second, your answer.

“No, um…” you said, blinking a little nervously. “I don't want you to hurt anyone.”

“Mm, as you wish,” Donna commented, impassive at the idea of ​​finishing off that girl, something you still hadn't quite gotten used to.

Donna was a Lord. After all, the lives of the village were at her will.

“The past is the past,” you murmured after a tense moment of silence. “I like the present much more,” you said as you sighed in relief, leaning back against the lady, who nodded elegantly.

“A very wise phrase,” she said, kissing you through her veil. “You know I would do anything for you, tesoro.”

“I know,” you said with a tender smile, not having the capacity to thank her enough for that protection, that promise of not letting anything, or anyone, hurt you ever, ever again. “It will be better if we forget it, okay, darling?”

“Va bene, your wishes are my commands,” she said, interlacing her fingers with yours. “Let's go home, it's cold today.”

“Yes,” you said, thanking the affectionate gesture, her sinister closeness that was so different from what you had experienced before.

Yes, Donna was dangerous, sometimes even terrifying, but she loved you. She really loved you.

During that quiet walk, you began to remember. You had said that the past was better off far from you, but you were only fooling yourself. That previous relationship was still very present in your memories.

You were never a normal girl, you were a bit withdrawn. It's not that you hated people or anything like that, you just didn't fit in. The villagers never isolated you or considered you a freak, and maybe that was your downfall. After years of voluntary solitude, you met a girl, a girl you fell in love with almost instantly, Becca.

It was your first relationship, an explosion of new emotions that at first made you seem like the happiest girl in that sinister place. Time passed and everything seemed perfect. But you had read too many stories not to start seeing similarities with the behavior of that girl who claimed to love you.

Like in that children's story, Becca began to neglect her lamb costume, revealing the dark fur of a fierce and hungry wolf. At first, they were just absurd arguments, ones in which you always seemed to be at fault.

You remembered the sleepless nights, wondering if you had really done something wrong to disappoint the girl you loved, if you were guilty, if you hurt her without realizing it. Acknowledging a guilt that you didn't fully understand became a habit, it became an easy way to stop the wolf from roaring.

But time didn't improve the situation, quite the opposite. That submission increased to the point you no longer asked yourself what you had done to deserve a scolding, accepting the reality of her words, bowing your head and asking for forgiveness.

Being so young, your character was deformed, turning you into something like a slave to her thoughts, her desires, a rag doll to be ordered around and tortured whenever she wanted.

Your friends began to be a problem for Becca. She herself urged you to abandon those innocent walks with the village girls, to put aside the only people who had always understood you. Of course, this unhinged behavior didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend, since she was the one who tried to open your eyes.

It didn't matter that you began to believe she was right, since, because of Becca, you stopped hanging out with her. Controlling you was her greatest hobby, torturing you was her only way to spend the time.

Submissive and obedient, you pleased that disguised wolf as much as you could, although as the months went by, you stopped receiving anything in return.

The screams, the senseless threats became routine. Every time you weren't with Becca, she acted, she marked your skin with slaps and warnings, making you believe that you were to blame for the blows you received. Your vision of reality didn’t change, even though your life was hell.

One day, Becca left you, she abandoned you. You remember the screams, the cries, the pleas. At that moment you were unable to see the level of pathos you were in, begging your tormentor for a second chance.

The pain, the suffering of having lost her was too great, you spent weeks crying inconsolably. Your parents were busy weaving and making fabrics, and your personal problems were of no importance when it came to helping them. Becca was a lovely girl in their opinion.

She was always a wolf in sheep's clothing, capable of deceiving even the shepherds, even the people who were supposed to take care of you.

You were crying as you walked, as you breathed, you were almost unaware of where you were going. It was not an ordinary commission. Those fabrics weren’t for Luiza or the Lupu family, no…

The landscape was changing and deep down you felt that you should be afraid, but you weren’t. The pain and the tears were much stronger than the fear of your destination, the Beneviento House.

The rumors about the lady in black didn’t sound in your head, you could only hear Becca's screams and insults. So much so, that you arrived at the house at the waterfall without being aware of the danger you were in.

The sobs accompanied the first encounter you had with the veiled lady, and, somehow, they aroused her curiosity. Chance was never your best ally, but, it seems that at that moment, it decided to grant you a favor.

“Those beautiful eyes don’t have to cry…”

You remember that whisper, that hoarse voice speaking through the veil, that voice unknown to the village, those hands that wiped away your tears. You always knew what she was, that she was a dangerous woman, that she was sick, that she was dark and soulless. Well, at least that's what it seemed to you.

Donna Beneviento, fourth Lord, seemed to take pity on your soul, something no one did, something no one had bothered to relieve. Your body, torn apart by tireless crying, yielded to the offer of tea, of telling her the reason for your tears.

So you did, or at least, you made it clear to her that a breakup was the cause of your problems. She didn't seem to give any importance to that, but she did to something, which, according to the lady, was terribly unusual: you didn't tremble in her presence, you weren't afraid.

That involuntary behavior granted you a second chance, granted you the love of someone you shouldn't love, who was cold as ice and dangerously disturbed. It didn't take you long to realize you were wrong.

Donna was quiet, but kind, attentive. The Angie doll was funny and eloquent, thus forming the counterpart the Lord was missing. Love arose from the ashes of your soul, which revived like a phoenix, hoping the fire would burn your past as well.

She was… beautiful, simply beautiful. Her complexes about her appearance were stupidity to you. Her deformed face was beauty itself, and you let her know that.

Laughter, whispers, kisses, caresses… Thus began a very different relationship, one in which you felt good, too good. Sometimes, just sometimes, you didn't feel worthy of so much affection, you didn't feel you deserved Donna, to calm her desire to love someone as pathetic as you.

After a few wonderful months with the lady in black, you finally realized. The sheep costume Becca was wearing became invisible. All those mistakes you thought you had made became injustices, all the slaps you thought were fair became abuse, mistreatment.

You regretted having cried for Becca, but, luckily, you would never have to face her again. To think that, perhaps after that unfortunate encounter, Donna protected you, was much more than you thought you deserved, even if her way of protecting… was kind of abrupt or sinister.

“Are you okay?” the lady asked closing the door of the mansion and removing her veil, a gesture you adored.

You nodded uncertainly, letting the lady's intense gaze stare into your eyes and her hands cup your face. It wasn’t easy to deceive her, you should know that.

“Your words tell me one thing, but your gaze tells me another, tesoro,” she said, with a tender voice, while her caresses comforted your nerves. “Please, tell me what's wrong.”

“It's nothing, Donna,” you said, lowering your head, joining one of your hands with hers. “It's just that meeting h-her… made me nervous.”

“I see,” the lady whispered, bringing her lips closer to yours, kissing you slowly. “She hurt you bad, vero?”

“Yes… but, but I prefer to forget about it,” you said with a fake smile, in case the desire to get revenge came back to her mind.

“It seems that it's hard for you,” Donna commented, with a slightly colder look. “Do you have doubts?”

“No!” you squealed nervously, shaking your head and making exaggerated gestures with your hands. “No, Donna, don't say that. I love you, and only you. Sometimes the past just hurts, that's all.”

The lady stared at you for a moment, but sighed in relief, coming closer and stealing another soft kiss from you, giving you a tender smile.

“Well, now you're with me, I'll protect you from pain, amore mio,” she whispered lovingly, wiping away a tear that was starting to run down your cheek. “Come, I'm going to prepare something for you to relax.”

“Thank you, darling,” you said with a sincere smile, expressing the love, the gratitude you had for the lady in black, the extreme fidelity you would always have for her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Angie interrupted, separating you comically. “Less cuddles, that doesn't make anyone happy. (Y/N), silly, all you have to do to be happy is play with me.”

You both kissed again, looking at the doll so she would growl angrily. Afterwards, the lady in black came down to prepare one of her relaxing teas and you had no choice but to spend some fun time with the doll.

You were grateful for all her love, her understanding, her sweetness, but your demons kept whispering to you, telling you that it wasn't fair, that you didn't deserve that special treatment, that love, those kisses, those caresses...

Luckily you managed to forget about your problems. Donna was lovely, she would always do everything possible to remove the sorrows from your soul, but with Angie... with Angie forgetting was much easier, since diverting attention could bring unpleasant consequences, like a scream in your ear, or, in the worst case, a bite.

The rest of the day passed like any other: glances, smiles, kisses, moments of quiet reading on her lap… Did you really deserve all that? You didn't think it possible.

“What are you doing?” you asked affectionately, when Donna moved to her desk, studying some papers.

“Mm, I'm going over my research,” the lady commented, concentrating on those essays written in elegant handwriting, with words that, unfortunately, you didn't understand. “There are too many mountain plants.”

“Oh, plants, of course,” you said amused, leaning down to kiss her cheek and earning one of her irresistible shy laughs. “Is it Mother Miranda's thing?”

“No, I've always found the power I have over these kinds of plants interesting, I want to know everything,” she explained, making you shrug with an amused laugh. “Look at this, it seems like a good essay to me.”

“Okay…” you sighed, taking the paper and frowning amused. “Um, Donna, I'm sorry but… I don't understand,” you said scratching your neck.

“Oh, certo,” she said, shaking her head and gesturing for you to sit on her lap. “It's part of my research with the new variety that appeared at the gardener's house.”

“Wow, so you don't only make dolls…” you said, stealing a quick kiss from her.

“To be honest, I prefer dolls,” Donna commented, leaving the papers in order, sighing tiredly. “Although I haven't worked on them lately,” she said in a different tone, frowning.

“I-I think that's my fault,” you said with a weak voice, knowing that you were the biggest distraction.

You couldn't be a nuisance or disappoint her in any way. Any mistake on your part was a cause for absolute sadness.

“Mm?” she murmured distractedly, not paying much attention to your self-accusations. “Perché?”

“Well... I'm always distracting you,” you said in a serious tone, with sincere apology. “You should pay less attention to me and more to your dolls.”

Donna turned her head with a confused look, but smiled, kissing you in a slightly wilder, deeper way, making you almost lose your balance.

“I like dolls more than plants,” she whispered in your ear, in a terribly sensual way. “But I like you more than dolls.”

You blushed, shaking your head as you comically ran away from her excessive affection, one that, you thought you didn’t deserve.

“You always say those things,” you murmured with a purr, playing with your finger on her chest, controlling your breathing. “You make me blush.”

“If I didn't, I would be doing something wrong,” she commented amused, brushing your hair away from your face, enjoying the touch of your skin.

“Oh, so I... am I doing something wrong?” you asked worried, making her move confused. “I-I can change, really.”

“What are you talking about, tesoro?” the lady questioned, studying your nervous gestures. “Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I...” you whispered embarrassed, looking away.

No matter how much time passed, your fears were still very present in your mind.

“Hey, (Y/N), you're shaking,” Donna whispered, taking your cold and shaking hands, looking at you scared. “Tesoro…”

“It's okay, Donna,” you said with a fake smile, removing your hands and looking for something to divert the lady's rational curiosity with. “What’s this?” you asked, reaching out to grab what looked like an old fashion magazine.

“Um, I think a catalog,” Donna said, being distracted by your clumsy actions and taking a look with you. “It's amazing, (Y/N), sometimes I don't even know what's in this house…” she sighed amused.

“They look like dresses,” you said, commenting on the images you both saw. “I didn't know you liked fashion.”

“N-No,” Donna said, gently shaking her head. “Not much…” she whispered, turning the catalogue over. “My mother used to enjoy sewing patterns. I suspect this magazine was hers.”

“Did your mother know how to sew?” you asked curiously, finally diverting your shaking hands from her head. “I guess like mother, like daughter, huh?”

“Mm, yes, you might be right,” the brunette said, glancing at you briefly as she turned the pages. “She was very good at making dresses, a-although she didn’t h-have much time to do so.”

“Look at this one,” you said quickly, masterfully keeping poor Donna from losing her mind, like every time she mentioned her past. Seeing her out of it was something you couldn’t stand, and you couldn’t control either. “It’s beautiful.”

“This one?” she said, distracted again, settling you on her lap. “Do you like this dress?”

“Yes, it’s simple, but elegant, I’d like to have one to wear it for you. Would you like that?”

 Donna smiled with a shy blush on her skin, looking away as she nodded.

“I would like you to do it... to make yourself pretty for me...”

Luckily, there were no problems that day, or that night. Everything had gone well and, as always when you went to sleep, you reviewed all your dialogues and actions with the lady in black, looking for some mistake, something that could make her angry. As for a long time, as always since you were with her, you found none.

Getting used to that kind, loving and selfless treatment was something that would take a lot of time, and effort, to accept. Becca's influence was still too great in your mind and the only thing you wanted, the only thing you would do anyway, was to forget about it.

The next day, everything seemed normal, although somehow, you noticed a certain nervousness in the lady in black, as well as an unusual urgency to return to the village to pay a visit to the Duke.

You knew she was up to something, and even though Donna was reluctant to let you accompany her, it was difficult for her to refuse your request.

Your demons were right, you didn't deserve her.

"I love walking with you," you whispered as you hung on her arm, walking slowly towards the village, feeling the warmth of her body, her protective presence next to you.

She laughed affectionately, kissing you through the black fabric. Of course you preferred her bare lips, but those discreet kisses outside the mansion, even in front of curious villagers, climbed the ranks.

“Wait for me here, tesoro,” she said when you reached the carriage while you politely greeted the merchant, who did the same with a greedy smile.

You rolled your eyes, pretending to think about whether to accept her order or not, but finally nodding, walking away from her, holding her hand until she let it go by inertia. It was becoming more and more evident that the lady had something up her sleeve, and you dedicated that moment of solitude to imagine what it was.

“(Y/N)?” a girl who passed in front of you, and whom you recognized instantly, stopped, looking at you with a smile.

“Ivana,” you said blinking several times, seeing, for a long time, your best friend in front of you. “Is that you?”

“It seems so, I could ask you the same thing,” the amused girl said, coming closer to melt into a loving hug with you. “(Y/N), I'm so glad to see you, it's been a while since... well, I haven't seen you around here.”

“I was at mass just yesterday,” you said, feeling comfort in the arms of your old friend, but separating shortly after. “Didn't you see me?”

“Um, no,” she said, frowning. “I guess we can't see much from our secluded spot,” she explained, something that made you nod.

“It's true, I was in the front row,” you said, scratching the back of your neck.

“How brave,” she joked, giving you a nudge. “Although, judging by what I've heard, I'm not surprised.”

“What are you talking about?” you said curiously, to which the girl turned her gaze to the Duke and the lady.

“I don't know what to say, (Y/N), there are rumors. They say you have something with Donna Beneviento,” she whispered in a low voice, pushing your back to get you a little away from them.

“The rumors aren't wrong,” you said blushing, glancing sideways at the lady, who seemed to be studying some fabrics. “I've been living with her for almost a year.”

“And you're alive? I mean, I don't think that...” your friend whispered, with a cautious tone.

“Of course I'm alive. Listen, Ivana, Donna isn't like people think,” you said, clearing the black shadows that surrounded the lady.

“(Y/N), they say she's a dangerous crazy woman,” she murmured, looking away from you.

“Donna's not crazy, she's sick,” you said annoyed, frowning. “B-Besides, that doesn't matter because she really loves me, she treats me well and she's not comparable to... you know...”

“Well, that remains to be seen,” Ivana said, with a distrustful tone. “Hey, I'm really glad you ended things with Becca, really, but I don’t know if you've chosen the right replacement.”

“She's the right one,” you hissed, clenching your fists, nervous about her lack of trust in the love of your life. “Donna is good, loving, kind and treats me well. Everyone says she's a monster, but they're wrong. Becca was a monster.”

“Oh, well... you're right about that, I mean, at least I know what Becca was like and her... well, I don't know her,” your friend said, without taking her eyes off the lady. “I-If you think you're okay with Lady Beneviento, I guess I have to support you.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, grabbing your friend's hands caressing them in a friendly way, with a warm smile. “Your support is very important to me. Maybe we should meet someday, and we can talk about it better.”

“I wanted to hear that for over two years,” Ivana said, changing her gaze to an amused one. “Maybe you're right, there's only one way to know... you, me, beer, Luiza's house…”

“Sounds nostalgically fantastic,” you joked, making both of you laugh in amusement, without letting your hands go.

Ivana's laughter faded in an instant, looking at something behind you, over your shoulder.

You shouldn't be surprised, since, behind you, was the lady in black, with the same calm, but threatening posture.

“Donna,” you said, approaching the lady and grabbing her arm, forcing her to take a couple of steps forward. “Look, this is Ivana, she's my best friend.”

“Hi, Ivana!” Angie squealed, waving effusively and getting out of her owner's arms. “What's up?”

“He-Hello,” the young woman stammered, greeting the doll back cautiously.

“It's been a long time since we last saw each other and…” you commented, but after doing so, the lady pulled away from your grip in an unpleasant way, indicating to the doll to get back up.

“Hey, silly Donna, I was chatting!” Angie protested, rudely silenced by the lady.

“Um… I'm sorry, Ivana, she doesn't talk,” you said embarrassed, moving towards the lady, who walked away without waiting for you. “We’re in touch, okay?”

Your friend nodded as you ran to the lady's side, with a cheerful smile, happy to have met Ivana.

“Hey, Donna, honey, wait,” you said running after her with an exaggerated gasp.

The lady turned to look at you, but it was for a very brief moment, as she continued walking, completely silent.

“W-Well… and… how was it with the Duke? Did you get what you wanted?” you asked as the tension began to fall on your shoulders slowly.

There was no answer, something that made you nervous. You were already in her territory, normally Donna would have said something, anything, but not that day.

“Donna, is something wrong?” you asked worried, taking her hand, catching her off guard.

The lady in black growled unpleasantly, breaking away from your grip again, walking faster.

“Donna, honey, what's wrong?” you asked nervous, more and more nervous.

She walked quickly, with Angie tugging at her dress, trying to get her attention for something. Donna didn't pay attention to her, and neither to your calls.

“Donna, wait,” you said agitated by the fast pace, with your heart beating so hard in your chest, that at any moment it would burst out of it.

Anxiety had already formed in your body when you entered the mansion. You knew something was wrong, you were sure, but you didn't know how to face it.

“Donna…” you whispered, moving closer to her as she removed her veil.

Her gaze was colder than an iceberg, and she looked away too quickly for you to interpret it.

“Donna, darling,” you said hastily, grabbing her by the shoulder before she walked away again. “W-Wait…”

“Lasciami,” she hissed in a dangerous whisper, moving abruptly so your hand would leave her body. “Non toccarmi.”

“What? Donna, please, what…”

Before you could finish your question, the lady growled again, quickly walking away towards the elevator hallway, descending to the basement without another word.

Confused, nervous, with your whole body shaking due to bad memories, from what that behavior evoked in your mind, you looked everywhere, searching for an answer.

“Uh-Oh…” Angie murmured, returning from the hallway.

The situation was strange; Donna had left her doll upstairs.

“A-Angie, what's wrong? What's wrong with her?” you asked, nervously playing with your hands. “Why is she acting like that?”

“I don't know,” the doll said, scratching her head comically. “She seems angry.”

“Angry?” you asked, approaching the puppet, who nodded slightly. “Is it that…? Did something happen with the Duke?”

“No,” Angie said, thoughtfully. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“T-Then…” you murmured, controlling your tremors, coming to a terrible conclusion. “It's because of something I've done… right?”

“What? You? What did you do?” the doll asked, dropping onto a couch.

You followed her, thinking that at any moment you were going to explode with anxiety.

“A-Angie… Was it my fault? I just… Oh, Gods, isn't it because I…? Did she get upset about Ivana?” you asked out loud, not finding any other reason that could explain her attitude.

The doll shrugged, making the tension almost unbearable.

“You and Donna don't share a mind?” you asked curiously, glancing at the elevator hallway.

“We do,” the doll said, in a passive tone. “But before you ask, no, I can't know what she's thinking. She learned a long time ago… how to put it, not to let me get involved in her business.”

“W-well, then I guess I have to talk to her. If I've done something wrong…” you said, getting up from the couch with a nervous gasp.

“No!” the doll screamed, standing in front of you with her arms outstretched. “No, silly!”

“Why not? I have to know what I did wrong,” you said, dodging the doll and walking back to the elevator.

“No, silly, don't go now!” Angie shrieked again, running to your side with her hands on your legs. “Wait a bit and she'll just get over it…”

“I…” you said confused. “Fine,” you whispered, glancing at the hallway and walking away, to which Angie sighed in relief.

Listening to Donna's inseparable companion was always the best option, but that time, that damn time, minutes passed and nothing changed. The brunette showed no signs of life, she was downstairs.

“I'm going down,” you said, throwing away the cards you were playing with Angie and getting up from the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey, am I talking to the walls? Leave Donna alone, you idiot,” Angie said, following you again.

“It's been more than an hour, no... I can't just leave it be,” you said, shaking your head and opening the elevator gate.

“Wait for me!” the doll shrieked, sneaking past you as you pressed the button. “Silly, it's not a good idea... come up, please.”

“No, Angie, if she's in trouble, I have to do something,” you insisted already in the basement, walking quickly to the workshop.

“You'll be in trouble if you disturb Donna now, stupid, listen to Angie, Angie wants to help you,” the doll said, pulling your dress.

You ignored her, opening the doors of the workshop.

The lady in black was sitting at her work table, staring into space, not moving. She didn't even turn her head when she heard you enter.

“Donna, Donna,” Angie said, pulling at her clothes. “Hey, Donna, don’t...”

“Taci,” the lady hissed in a hoarse, dangerous tone, making the puppet run back to your side.

“(Y/N), go away...” the puppet whispered, pushing you towards the exit.

Once again you ignored her advice, approaching the woman in black with a slow step, almost clumsy because of your nerves.

“D-Donna, my love…” you whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder, a hand she pulled away with a sharp movement. “Honey, please…”

The lady didn't even look at you. She kept her eyes fixed on a seemingly unimportant place in front of her.

“Listen to me, I… I don't know what I could have done to offend you, but I beg you to forgive me, or at least tell me what…” you murmured with your voice broken by her indifference.

A loud bang made you step back, frightened. The lady in black hit the table with excessive force, causing several objects to fall to the floor.

“You want me to tell you what you've done…” Donna hissed, slowly getting up, her knuckles white from the strength with which she clenched her fists. “What have you done!? You dare ask me what you've done!?” she shrieked, making you retreat even further, being chased by her.

“Donna…” You sighed somewhat scared, burned by the fire that emanated from her furious, unhinged gaze. “I don't know what you're talking about, I…”

“You don't know anything, do you? You never know anything,” she growled, with a nervous tic that revealed her crisis. “You're always the submissive and poor (Y/N). How good and quiet you are, tesoro… Is that how you do things? Do you deceive people with that pathetic attitude and then stab them in the back?”

“Please, no…” you murmured in a weak voice, crashing into a wall, cornered in front of Donna, who kept stabbing you with her gaze.

The memories, your demons, your feelings… Everything dangerously resembled moments from your past, terrible moments.

“Please, no,” the brunette mocked, tilting her head with an unpleasant grimace. “Porca puttana!” she shrieked, hitting the wall with her fist, right next to your head.

You closed your eyes, breathing heavily and shaking your head. Tears traveled freely down your cheeks.

“Do you think you can do this to me, (Y/N)?” she hissed, not noticing your fear, your crying or your nervousness, with a threatening, delirious voice. “I turn around for a second, (Y/N), one fucking second! And what do I find? My girl flirting with a whore…” she said almost in your ear, with a look of hate that pierced your chest.

“No, it's not what you think,” you said with your voice distorted by tears, closing your eyes to receive her punishment, the punishment you always deserved. “She's…”

“You bitch!” Donna shrieked, hurting your heart and ears. “You're mine! Do you hear me? Mia!” she shouted closer and closer, with furious breathing. “Who do you think you are to cheat on me?”

“I haven't cheated on you,” you sobbed, covering your face instinctively.

“Liar! Bitch!” the lady shouted again, grabbing you tightly by the collar of your dress, shaking you roughly. “You're a slut! You don't even deserve me to fuck you out of spite!”

“Shit, shit,” Angie muttered, walking nervously through the workshop. “Donna, stop!”

“I should have listened to them, (Y/N). They were telling me the truth,” Donna said with a nervous laugh, loosening her grip. “They knew what you were, that you would cheat on me! I was fool enough to want to surprise you and make you a fucking dress… Vaffanculo!”

“No, no!” you screamed desperately, with your legs shaking, threatening to fail. “No, Donna, I love you!”

“You don't love me!” the lady shrieked, shaking her head, trembling too, completely out of her mind. “They know it, they tell me so...” she murmured confusedly, blinking erratically, alternating angry growls with delirious laughter. “Yes, they are right...”

“I'm sorry!” you screamed, letting your legs give out, falling hopelessly to your knees at her mercy, bowing your head. “Donna, forgive me! I have failed you, forgive me!”

“Oh, you admit it, how bold,” she growled, looking at you with contempt.

“I haven’t done anything! But, but if I have, I apologize... Donna, forgive me, please, I will do anything for you to forgive me!” you sobbed in desperation, clinging to her legs, dragging yourself pathetically, as you used to do with Becca.

“Ugh, lasciami, troia,” she hissed, pushing you to the floor, looking at you with a disgust that could make you faint. “Don't touch me, do you hear me?”

“Please, Donna! Forgive me! I beg you!” you shrieked, crawling to grab her ankle, something she prevented with a soft movement. “I'm sorry! I'll do anything to remedy my mistake! Anything!”

Donna shook her head, trembling, putting a hand on her forehead, as if her head hurt.

“Ok, that's enough, silly Donna,” Angie said, standing in front of you, as if she wanted to protect you. “Calm down, Donna, come on…”

“N-No… they… they talk to me, they whisper to me…” she said nervously, covering her ears while she moved nervously, as if she didn't want to hear invisible voices. “They…”

“They aren’t here, Donna, I’m here, look at me, look at me, come on, it’s Angie, your Angie…” the doll said, trying to calm her demons.

“Angie… tell them to shut up… make them stop!” the lady screamed, twisting on herself while you cried against the wall, with your knees on your chest.

“We’ll do it together, come on,” the doll said, moving her arms to distract the lady. “Recite, recite, Donna; it’s your favorite… Sempre caro mi fu quest’ermo colle… Come on, come on, you know it!”

“E q-questa s-siepe, che da tanta parte…” Donna muttered, pronouncing with difficulty.

“That’s it! Go on, go on, they’ll shut up,” Angie encouraged, glancing at your pathetic figure. “Dell…”

“Dell’ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude,” she whispered, breathing, miraculously, calmer. “T-They've stopped…”

“Of course, good job, Donna,” Angie said excitedly, jumping up and down on the floor.

The lady made a gesture of pain, panting nervously and blinking, as if she didn't even know where she was.

“What…?” she asked disoriented, looking at you and frowning. “(Y/N)?”

“Look what you've done, Donna, you fool!” Angie shouted, running to your side. “Hey, hey, it's all over now, (Y/N)”

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry, I'm sorry…” you repeated over and over again, unable to look the lady in the face, covering yours with your hands as your tears soaked your clothes. “Forgive me, Donna…”

“(Y/N), I…” she murmured, bending down, still breathing heavily. “Amore mio…”

“Don't, please!” you squealed nervously, backing away when Donna reached out a hand towards you, twisting you around to defend yourself from a possible punishment. “Don't hit me anymore…”

“Don't hit you?” Donna asked, shaking her head and struggling with your hands. “(Y/N), please…”

“You're stupid, Donna! You've lost your mind again!” Angie snapped, pointing at her in an unpleasant way. “You scared her!”

“I don't… Gods… no…” the doll maker stammered unable to calm you down. “(Y/N), no… I don't…”

“I promise I won't see her again, I promise,” you sobbed, letting her take your hands away from your face. “I know… you don't have to punish me, I'll do it myself…” you said nervously, looking for a solution to the problem, one you always had with Becca.

Nervous, ignoring the lady's grip, you got up, looking for something in the workshop, something that would make you pay the penance for having made her angry.

“What are you doing? Hey, no, don't do...” she said, approaching nervously when she saw you with scissors in your hand.

“I'll cut my hair, okay? I won't be pretty for anyone this way,” you said with a pleading laugh, grabbing a lock of hair, ready to pay for your mistakes.

“What?! Have you gone crazy?” Donna asked, running to snatch the scissors from you. “(Y/N), please stop... doing that...”

“It's the least I can do to make it up to you...” you sobbed, struggling with her, without success, she was always stronger than you. “It's what she would want...”

“She? What...? Gods, (Y/N)...” the lady sighed, leaving the scissors and grabbing you by the shoulders. “You're talking about your ex, right? Did she do this to you?”

“I deserved it,” you said with a broken voice, with a sore throat. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

“Basta, basta, per favore…” Donna pleaded, breathing nervously again. “I didn't want you to… Gods, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… I've lost my mind and I don't… cazzo… what have I done?” she lamented, putting her hands on her head.

“Screw things up as always, although I must admit that it is her fault for insisting,” Angie said, looking at her hands.

“Oh, cazzo…” Donna hissed, struggling with you to be able to hug you. “Amore mio, please, forgive me, I beg you… it wasn't me… I just… Gods… I'm not okay and… Oh, tesoro, please, I beg you… look at me…”

You obeyed, looking into her eye, at the extinguished, disappeared sparkle of rage.

“I just got jealous and… I lost control…” the lady explained, wiping away your tears while you were unable to utter a single word. “I never wanted to hurt you. I would never hurt you… I'm not like… her…”

“What a way to show it,” Angie said ironically, making you wake up from that nightmare.

“Aren't you going to hit me?” you asked, calming your crying, your fear.

“I would never do such a thing… you have to believe me,” Donna whispered, dragging your body towards hers, falling to the floor, cradling you, feeling her tears on your skin as well. “I'm so sorry, (Y/N), you should never have seen me like this… I'm sorry…”

“Donna…” you sobbed, letting her arms hug you, arms that you no longer feared, but that scared you, too much. “Donna…”

“Listen to me, I didn't mean to tell you those things… it wasn't me… if anyone deserves a slap, it's me,” she whispered as she cradled you, repentant, terribly hurt by her madness. “Come on, hit me.”

“What?” you said, looking up and shaking your head.  “No…”

“Do it, I deserve it,” Donna insisted.

Before you could refuse for the second time, a dull noise echoed in the workshop. Angie had taken that request as her own and had crossed the brunette's face, leaving her speechless.

“Ouch! Angie!” the lady shrieked, with a hand on her wounded cheek.

“She would never do it,” the doll said, amused, managing, after a while of suffering, to get a smile out of you. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” you murmured, letting her affection pass through your skin, her apologies being heard by your ears. Becca never apologized.

“I told you that you shouldn't come down,” Angie said, while the lady lamented with her forehead next to yours. “Donna is sick and sometimes she hears voices that tell her horrible things. She is a jealous fool, but I swear to you by Giovanni Beneviento, my creator, that she loves you, and that she would never hurt you. I give you my word.”

“I…” you whispered, also calming the lady's crying. “You weren't upset about my friend?”

“Yes, but... I'm a stupid jealous thing... you have to forgive me... you have to...”

You cut her off with a kiss.

Maybe together, you could put an end to your demons.

[softlyspun]

Oh, this is fun! As a historical costumer, I have some Thoughts on how corsetry and fit interact, and this is actually a topic that was keeping me from writing a costuming post for the Ginger and Mint girls. Might as well get it out of the way now! So, corsets...

I think the first thing that might not be completely obvious is corsets are sturdy. Even cheap ones from places like Corset Story are much, mush heavier than, say, a t-shirt or dress shirt. For its components:

The Busk

So, when I refer to the busk, I'm taking about the front closure of the corset, this bit right here:

(My cat decided to help.)

This is the bit that's going to give you trouble when you put the corset on, even if it's the correct size. It's a rigid bit of metal, much, much less flexible than the rest of the corset bones, and it's where the closures are attached. Usually those are the little metal clasps that you see here, but sometimes, especially in modern fashion corsets, you get some really whimsical ones, like this thing from Corset Story.

I'm inclined to say the busk isn't generally a point of failure in a corset: those little metal loops are riveted in place.

Next, we have

The Bones

So, when I'm talking about corset bones, I mean these bits:

These are long strips of something stiff but flexible. Historically, whalebone (a misleading name, it's actually baleen) was used, though, you'll also see things like stiff cord or reeds used for the purpose. Modern corsets use plastic or metal. They tend to be about the weight and flexibility of zip ties, maybe slightly stiffer. With time and use, these bones will conform to the shape of the wearer's body. This is sometimes a point of failure, usually when the boning pokes through at either the top or bottom of the corset. This will usually manifest as the tip of a bone poking you. (Almost every time this has happened to me, it's been under the armpit, but it could just as easily jam annoyingly into your waist). I suppose, technically, if it was put under some kind of weird strain, a bone could snap and poke through the middle of the garment.

Last, we have:

The Laces

So, a corset is actually a fantastically adjustable garment. This isn't to say that it isn't possible to wear them too tight, or for a corset to be too small, but in general they're a lot more forgiving than pop culture would have you believe.

At least with the corsets I've worn, the top and the bottom of the corset actually lace separately, and they tie at the middle. I almost always end up loosening the laces almost as far as they'll go when putting a corset on, getting the busk fastened, and then lacing it to the desired tightness.

While it's possible to lace it up on your own, the whole thing is much easier with another pair of hands.

For the points of failure here: the laces themselves can vary wildly. I've personally never had an issue with laces breaking, but it's not impossible that they might fray/weaken against the eyelets, or, if they're under a lot of strain and made from a flimsier material, they might just snap. The eyelets themselves are another potential point of failure: I've found that they can pull out and tear a garment when under strain (Or if you make the mistake of putting a grommeted garment through the wash. RIP, the kirtles I made in college). This is less of an issue when you're looking at historical construction, since historical eyelets are more or less embroidered into the garment, like this:

This is stronger and less likely to pull out, but still has the potential to unravel or wear out.

The final potential point of failure is the fabric of the corset itself. Like I said, these things are sturdy, but they're not indestructible. If the corset was already worn/damaged, and not carefully mended, it's possible for the fabric to tear (possibly dramatically!)

Just for funsies, let's look at how likely the issues are to occur:

The corset is uncomfortably tight, and it's all your character can think about.

Yeah, this is absolutely likely to happen. I think anyone who's done historical reenactment or cosplay has misjudged the fit of a costume at some point. Bonus points if the corset is an integral part of the costume, or if you're at a con or a Faire where you can't easily get out of the stupid thing. It almost always goes along with chaffing from the fabric of whatever you're wearing underneath the corset (and you should be wearing something underneath the corset. They're undergarments, but not next-to-the-skin undergarments)

I actually have my own personal experience with this. At a wedding, a reenactment friend came up to ask why I wasn't dancing. When I mentioned that I was corseted into a formal dress that didn't quite fit, her face went from teasing to sympathetic, and she assured me that I should just sit down.

The corset won't fit, no matter how much your character--or a helper--tries to get it on.

Like I said before, corsets are surprisingly forgiving (just lace it looser), but sometimes a garment is just too small. This is bound to be a point of frustration: even mass-produced fashion corsets can set you back a couple hundred bucks, and it takes a while for them to ship. If it's a custom corset, that's a much, much bigger investment, in time, money, or both. Depending on how much time you have before the event where the corset was being worn, this might require some radical changes to costume/garment plans. Many historical dresses are made to fit over structured undergarments, and won't fit correctly (or possibly at all) without a corset underneath. If it's for a cosplay, this might mean having to frantically throw together a look-alike out of duct tape and hope the morning of the convention.

All that being said, it might be possible to salvage the garment by just adding in a new panel. This was often how maternity corsets were handled in-period. Still, if the character is in a hurry, this is likely to end up being an obvious patch job, especially if they don't have a matching fabric on hand. If the corset is being worn as an undergarment, this might not matter. If it's being worn as a fashionable overgarment, it might cause remarks.

The corset is beginning to break or come undone as it struggles to contain your character.

I suppose it's possible that a less-experienced assistant might tie a bad knot that could come undone, which would honestly be the best case scenario here. The corset would just loosen as the night went on. Otherwise, this is the herald of frustration: this is going to mean either some time-consuming repairs, or buying a new corset.

The corset bursts open, unable to contain the pressure behind it.

This one's pure fantasy (not that there's anything wrong with that!) The possible ways I can see this working:

The rivets along the busk pull out, letting the corset fall open in the front.

The laces tear, sending shreds of ribbon everywhere, and the garment opening in the back.

The fabric itself tears, probably along one of the sides, in between the bones.

The corset is too restrictive to take off, and your character needs help getting out of it.

This has so, so much potential for a sweet, intimate moment. At the end of a day, feet and head both aching, I've found that I usually just want my beautiful outfit off. And there's always that point of exhaustion, realizing that the busk isn't going to cooperate and let you get out without unlacing the stupid thing, but that the laces are either tied too tight for you to undo yourself, or the knot is just out of reach. Turning to your equally exhausted assistant, and just quietly asking for help. The sigh of relief when the corset finally falls away. The red marks on your skin, where the fabric was pressed too-close for hours. The overall soreness of being through a busy day in costume, and the satisfaction of having had a great event. A vow to take things easy tomorrow, to let your body rest and recover.

Anyway, those are my thoughts on corsets and historical costumes as they relate to this kind of kinky fun!

corset prompts if u can!!! like being too big for a corset and just either not fitting or burstin it if thats ok !!

A time and a place:

On the way to an event that your character needs/wants to look extra nice for.

At an event, presumably with plenty of people your character wants to look good in front of.

On the way home from an event that your character may or may not have gotten a little too wild at.

At home, while getting dressed.

At a store, while trying things on.

The issue:

The corset is uncomfortably tight, and it's all your character can think about.

The corset won't fit, no matter how much your character--or a helper--tries to get it on.

The corset is beginning to break or come undone as it struggles to contain your character.

The corset bursts open, unable to contain the pressure behind it.

The corset is too restrictive to take off, and your character needs help getting out of it.

The cause:

No fault on your character's part; the corset was simply too small for their body.

Too much eating/drinking.

The corset used to fit, but your character has gained weight since they last wore it.

Bloating, be it from nerves, bubbly drinks, something they ate earlier, what have you.

Too much movement, gradually wearing on the too-tight corset and/or your character.

[p3terpaan]

peter pan psa tbh

[afterlife-2004]

Reminds me of “The World Was Wide Enough”, a song from the musical, Hamilton!

[emdotcom]

I changed my mind. Hater behavior is undeserved, when it comes to works, & idgaf about holding creators accountable when their games are mid, anymore.

[sysig]

It clearly wasn’t important to you (Patreon)

[enigma-absolute]

Today marks 10 years since I first really stepped into the Eddsworld fandom and went through an event with it.

But it also happened to be first anniversary of its creator's passing. This year marks the 10th.

I figured 13 year old me wouldn't want to feel alone in that moment, so I made this to join her and go through the flow together.

Without Edd and Eddsworld, I don't think I would've had that accessible foundation, can-do mindset and enthusiastic influence, admiration and desire to animate and make stories of my own. I was a year too late when I first entered into the fandom and heard about it, but these past 10 years taught me it's never too late to make an impact and tell your tales - no matter how long they'll take.

Thank you Edd Gould. For everything.

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

Sometimes I think I must consume media wrong because I don't remember The Lottery by Shirley Jackson fucking me up

Like sure I read it and was like 'wait hang on, what- oh dear.' but I didn't have the 'Dude That Was So Fucked Up I Am Fundamentally Changed As A Person' experience everyone else apparently had

And that ain't a flex btw this ain't a "oh I can read the most fucked up stuff and feel NOTHING" kinda bullshit I just. Wasn't that deeply affected lmao

[puppy-the-mask]

So I've been cooking up some alternate outfit ideas for my Lmk sona and this is what they'd look like if they were with the Demon Bull Family! The idea is basically they'd be something of a court musician but it's mainly just a title.

Edit: Added the version without her armor <3

I don't have a concrete story but the initial idea was that cas was friends with swk in the brotherhood days and stuck with dbk after everyone else got sealed away and the whole consumption incident went down since she had nowhere else to go (and conveniently was the only lady around that he could ask for relationship advice when courting Iron Fan). They didn't expect Cas to live this long, only really expecting to have her around through her natural lifespan but they noticed she wasn't aging so now she gets to be their babysitter for date nights! Through the years she's been something of an aunt/sister figure and has become fiercely loyal to the family despite having no desire to take over the world. Redson built her electric bass and the armor she wears over her gems, the Bass has 2 extra buttons on it- the fire button spews fire out of the pipes and the Bull button unsheathes her sword from the neck of the instrument since she can't exactly walk around with a sword on her hip so easy these days. She travels with a heavy metal band across the continent- i like to imagine her intro episode has the crew excited about a big band coming to the city and while they wait they run into redson and annoy him cause he's bragging about getting exclusive vip passes to the show. The crew would expect someone mean from the music and the from the rest of the family but Cas is super welcoming and nice when the crew sneak backstage to bother redson some more XD