#Well. A computer. That has some of my old computer parts in it

[osakhee]

level up, camboy!wonbin (feat sungchan)

second part of action!

! roommate!sungchan, voyeurism, wonbin gets tied up, edging, overstimulation, use of toy(s), sungchan is mean, degradation, use of slut/whore

wonbin never really cares about how many eyes are looking at him. the more viewers on his stream the happier, the harder he gets. he couldn't care less that his roommate and dear friend sungchan stands at slightly opened door, hidden in the dark corridor. wonbin is too concentrated on his hands that slide down his shining chest, listening eagerly to his chat's every command.

sungchan doesn't know how he ended up here. all he wanted was to ask wonbin if he wanted to order some food... sungchan has always been a quite lively person, and his roommate that spent all his time with him suddenly started disappearing in his room as soon as the night started to set. sungchan is getting tired of eating alone in the kitchen, wonbin even gave up on the movie night they set together every thursday and it really made him sad. he couldn't be more surprised when he peaked through wonbin's door once and saw his friend's naked body lit up by his computer screen doing some of the most obscene things sungchan has never seen. more than aroused, sungchan actually felt really curious. is it this activity that stopped wonbin from paying attention to him, his beloved friend?

sungchan ended up looking through different websites until he found wonbin's account. he created an account to lurk through his roommate's profile fully. the dates of some of his old streams matched exactly with the evenings where he was missing next to sungchan on the couch, and it made sungchan upset. very upset actually. turns out his friend of a few years is not only an attention seeker, but also such a pervert. he mindlessly watched a few parts of wonbin's past videos and saw how turned on he was each time the comments would degrade him.

the idea tingled sungchan's mind for days. the side eye he would give wonbin in the morning before he left to work went unnoticed, and it only made him more confident about his decision. for the past few days, sungchan observed wonbin from the little crack in the door, just enough to see his roommate either jerking himself off, humping a pillow or using toys depending on the mood of his chat. he ignored how hard he got watching the humiliation wonbin faced, the tears that dripped from his eyes. and each time sungchan would just grumble to himself and lay on his bed, his head so full of thoughts he can barely sleep anymore.

sungchan is really silent. it's thursday, their movie night day. wonbin is all giddy since he came back from his classes, a smile painting his face. sungchan can't wait to watch it disappear, he can barely hold back when wonbin disappears in his room. he turns off the tv, and all the lights in the living room before sitting back down on the couch. and he waits. he waits until he can hear a high and muffled moan coming from wonbin's room. sungchan had waited enough.

he stands up, walks to his friend's room and opens the door without warning. wonbin is not on live yet, he's just turning himself on slowly by poking the bulge in his shorts. he jumps in surprise and almost fall off his bed when sungchan gets in. he sits cross legged on his bed, his hands covering a little his crotch to make sure sungchan couldn't see his hard length pushing through his clothes. but he can't hide the website that's on his laptop screen and the vibrator that lays behind him on the bed.

"hmm hi sungchan... everything okay?"

"it's thursday. we're supposed to be having a movie night."

"oh. right... well i don't... feel so good, we can do that next time if that's okay?"

"stop lying to my fucking face wonbin."

sungchan's tone catches wonbin off guard, and his breath gets stuck in his throat. a wave of anxiety builds in his stomach and takes away the neediness. what is his friend doing in his room, and what could he want from him at that moment? wonbin watches the door close and he swallows with difficulty. sungchan walks around his roommate's room, he knows exactly what he's looking for. it's bad, he knows it, but he couldn't stop himself from going through wonbin's things when he was out for the past few days.

sungchan easily finds the dark blue ropes that wonbin carefully hides under his bed, and that's when his friend starts getting the hint of what he has in mind. wonbin stands up to take the tight cotton away from his hands, but sungchan pushes him back onto the bed with force.

"so that's what you do when i'm waiting for you and you don't even tell me? i can't believe i was even worried for you while you're acting like a bitch in front of a camera? now take your clothes off i'm gonna show your followers how much of a slut you are."

sungchan's eyes travel the website and look around for the livestreaming option. he clicks on the button, the red dot of the camera turns on, and the dark room appears on the screen. wonbin sits on his knees, naked, his hands behind his back. his head is low with genuine shame, but when comments start flowing and money drop on the inbox, he gets more confident. he's tied to the point he can't move unless sungchan helps him. his hands on his back, the dark cotton surrounding his chest and rubbing on his nipples then up his neck, tight just enough to make his breath painful. the ropes dig into the skin of his thighs that he parts as much as possible so it wouldn't make contact with his balls that are already overly sensitive. the knot around his lower stomach has his hard dick resting on it, his transparent arousal dripping on his skin.

sungchan reads a few comments without a look at wonbin that wiggles on the bed. he can be seen on the livestream, but he doesn't show his face, only his veiny arms and hands appear on the screen when he grabs roughly grabs wonbin's face to make him look at the camera.

"isn't that everyone's favorite whore... he's prettily tied up for you, isn't he?"

anonymous user gave you a tip : what is going on rn

anonymous user gave you a tip : ???????

anonymous user gave you a tip : that's so hot of him please make him cry

"you have such demanding fans wonbin, they all want to see how messed up you can get."

sungchan lets go of wonbin's face. his roommate won't even look at him, but he can't ignore how much his cock throb just having sungchan spitting venom at him. he tries again to free his hands but can only shifts a little more on his knees, his tip rubbing against the dark blue rope that's around his stomach. the sensation makes his hips shake and buck up, desperate for more friction he needs so badly. sungchan is quick to stop him with a light slap on his thigh that makes wonbin whimper.

sungchan follows the comments' directives. he wants wonbin's chat to see how far he could go for them and for his own pleasure. he grabs the black vibrator wonbin has used so many times and turns it on. when he shows it to the camera, the tingling noise of the money being dropped on the livestream gets faster. it convinces sungchan to go further. he walks up to wonbin and stands next to him, he makes sure he's not blocking the view. with the edge of the vibrator, he makes wonbin look up at the screen again, his face already flushed with anticipation.

sungchan travels wonbin's body with the vibrating head of the toy, he spends a while on the pointed nipples that are already red from being rubbed over the cotton rope. his roommate cries out, his chest heaves so fast, the dark cords digging into the skin and leaving delicious pink burns. he makes its way lower, pushing the vibrator on his stomach. wonbin's thighs shake, he can only whine, he feels pathetic. but he loves it. he loves the forced eye contact sungchan makes him have with the camera. he can see all the comments telling him how fucked he looks and it turns him on even more.

the vibrations slowly reach wonbin's hard cock and it makes him jerk up instantly. sungchan has the edge of the black toy resting at the base of his dick, he watches it bounce, the beads of precum hitting the sheets. he grabs one of the rope with his free hand to make sure wonbin would stop wiggling around, and he makes the vibrator go up his length until he reaches the tip. the chat is going too fast for him, he needs to get up and choose comments by himself, and as he checks out some of the users' words, he ignores the boy tied on the bed. wonbin cries loudly, his hips trembling with pleasure, the toy rubbing his slit over and over again. he can feel his orgasm already building up and way too fast.

sungchan finally sees wonbin throwing his head back on the screen and he takes the toy away. a sob escapes his roommate's lips, his pulsating tip so red and his throbbing dick almost painful. sungchan just scoffs at him, taunting him in such a cruel way with the vibrator. the anger on wonbin's face is mixed with desperation, his cheeks glistening with his tears.

"did you think it was going to be that easy? don't you usually listen to your chat like a good boy?"

anonymous user gave you a tip : poor little wonbin

sungchan hits playfully wonbin's cock with the vibrator, it makes him moan a little louder each time. all he can do is babbles incoherent words, the denial of his orgasm makes the pleasure so painful his head spins, his mind is foggy. he can barely keep his eyes open, his head dropping low. sungchan's hand reaches wonbin's hair, he yanks his head back up and another cry escapes his roommate's throat. the overwhelming sensation of his hair being pulled is new to him but he can feel his release building up again at the feeling of sungchan's rough fingers grabbing his long black locks. his hair get tugged on a little more and it cuts his breath.

anonymous user gave you a tip : is that how you beg for it? you can do better than that.

anonymous user gave you a tip : awww will he ever get to cum, poor little whore...

"can you read that wonbin? or are you crying too hard? your chat wants you to beg for it. come on, make it worth it for them, ask them to cum since you want it so badly."

it takes a while for wonbin to gather his thoughts, his breath is broken with sobs and the noise of the vibrator is making him dizzy. he wants to look down, but sungchan's tight grip on his long hair forces him to arch his back and look right into the red dot on his camera. he can see himself on the screen and the massive figure of his roommate next to him. once again, he looks so pathetic.

"pl- please... c-can i please cum... i w-wanna cum it hurts i-it's so... s-so much i need it please p-please..."

"that's a little too easy like that."

"sungch-"

"don't dare saying my name on your fucking stream. now you better try harder or i'm leaving you like that."

"i- i-i need to cum s-so badly i'm s-such a slut... i w-want it... p-please i- i'm in so much pain pl-please make me cum..."

his words are directed to his audience but also to his roommate, his voice broken by desperate whines. sungchan holds the toy close to his throbbing cock and he watches it twitch with anticipation. wonbin bucks his hips to meet the vibrations and it only brushes his tip but it's more than enough to make the pleasure explode inside wonbin's stomach. his dick pulses with each rope of the hot fluid, covering his thighs and the edge of the toy. sungchan pushes it down the length and wonbin jerks up once again, his body arching into the delicious frictions. the contact is making him drool, it drips down his chin along with the tears that already wetted his neck. the dark blue rope that contains his hands feel even more tight each time he tries to free himself.

wonbin wants to get away from the heavy vibrations sent through his already sensitive cock, it hurts him, it hurts him so good he can't even think anymore. only sungchan tugging on his hair to make sure he keeps his head up to show on the livestream keep him in touch with reality. he feels himself twitching again as another wave of pleasure rushes over him. more cum spills from his slit, down his length until it drops on the sheets.

"n-no m-more... st-stop..."

it's only when his third orgasm hits him that sungchan decides to take the toy away. he turns it off and throws it on the bed. since he let go of wonbin's hair, his roommate just dropped his face into the bed, still lost in the overwhelming stimulation that sent shivers to his spine. sungchan cuts the live, and unties each knot. wonbin's hands that are now free just fall down on the sheets next to him, the red marks left by the dark blue cords covering his glistening skin. now satisfied by his work, sungchan leaves wonbin alone with his thoughts, face flushed and breath ragged.

sungchan walks into his room and closes the door behind him. the bulge in his sweatpants is becoming more and more difficult to ignore, each step makes him a little harder. he sits at his desk and turns on his gaming computer, massaging himself through his underwear inside his pants. he knows exactly what he's looking for once the screen lit up.

jvngsvngch4n is live !

THAT WAS KINDA CRAZY 🤓☝🏻 sungchan is much meaner than i expected at first (i would do anything mean dom sungchan asks me tbh) sorry for anyone who wanted camboy wonbin x reader btw this popped in my mind and i couldn't get it out of my head lol

[watatsumiis]

ill be getting my computer back this week !! Woowoo

[ilydeku]

izuku loves to talk about you during interviews

- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you

- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3

- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy

- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you

- it's like his whole is personality is HIS WIFE

- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭

- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1

"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"

"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"

"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"

"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."

"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"

"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."

"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"

"She is. She's wonderful."

"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"

"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."

"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"

"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."

(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"

"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."

"(sigh)"

"(smiling warmly)"

[sanatomis]

⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!

it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.

notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3

taglist. | masterlist.

“I don’t have a dad.” 

As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him? 

“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”

Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!

Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand. 

“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces. 

His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”

“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.” 

Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind. 

“Can’t I take my oth—”

“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.” 

Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem. 

“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today. 

There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school. 

Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day. 

“I need you to come to my school next week.” 

Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant. 

He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either. 

“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—” 

“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure.  “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.” 

It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense. 

“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.” 

It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.

“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly. 

The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over. 

“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.” 

Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either. 

“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”

“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end. 

All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes. 

Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him. 

“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”

Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat. 

Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him. 

“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”

Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it. 

So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room. 

But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy.  “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?” 

“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”

Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”

Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”

“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”

“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.” 

“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost. 

Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.

“. . .Just don’t mess it up.” 

Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted. 

It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”

The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled. 

Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.” 

Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel. 

A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them. 

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew. 

The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.

. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.

It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.

You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.

“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”

Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.

. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.

Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.

When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.

There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.

But, as it turns out, it works.

Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.

Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.

“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”

Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.

Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.

Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.

“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”

Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.

“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”

“And the backflip you taught your students!”

“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”

The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.

How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.

Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.

“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”

Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.

“. . .I’m actually a detective.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”

It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?

“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”

Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.

The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

Ah, see, now that’s a good card.

“Wait, but, what about. . .”

“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”

Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.

All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.

Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.

Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.

The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.

“What’s up with you?”

It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.

“I kind of messed up there, huh?”

The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”

Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.

“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”

“It’s fine.”

Satoru blinks at him. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”

That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.

“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”

“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.

Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”

“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”

“Nuh uh!”

“What are you? Six?”

Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.

“And a half,” Satoru adds.

The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.

“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”

It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.

It seems one shot was enough, after all.

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

taglist: @luv-gin @sad-darksoul @parttimep3t @nanuer @bubbletae7 @chilichopsticks @gabirii @nyxlai @rattywatty @chaoticevilbakugo @ploylulla @sugasbrownsuga @littleagxs @m3ow1 @booksarekindaneat @frankenstein852 @bananasquash @jasm-1ne @chicken-fifi @yanelis-world @satory @satoryaa @sasfransisco @faetoraa @softiehee

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown

Danny is just about done with today. He’s tired and cold and he doesn’t know where he is. After running from his parents to an entirely different dimension, he feels he has the right to be a little bit cranky. He has barely any supplies and no idea where he’s going to sleep tonight, and all of that was before an idiot dressed as a clown started running around. 

Danny does not like clowns in general, but this one was pissing him off. The buffoon had shown up with a bunch of people in clown masks hauling guns, and they dragged him into an old warehouse with a crowd of people. Now they were all sitting quietly, downstairs while he and two other children had been taken away from the goons into a room alone with the man fully dressed as a clown. He’s got green hair, a purple suit, the makeup on his face, over what appears to be scars but might just be special effects makeup to make this particular clown even creepier. 

When the crazy clown started muttering about bats, Danny gave up on trying to see where this would go. 

“Hey, crazy clown?” He asked, standing up. He had interrupted the crazy clown’s monologue to his own computer, but the clown seemed too shocked to be upset about this. “ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” Danny shrugged, the two other kids who are with him, two boys that are entirely too young for this situation, are looking at him like he’s insane. Which, valid, the crazy clown does have a gun, but Danny is already mostly dead, so he doesn’t have the same concerns. Danny makes his way over to the side of the desk that the clown is on, realizing that his monologuing to the computer is actually because he’s streaming something. Eh, whatever, not his business so Danny ignores it. “ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The crazy clown starts laughing, full-on bent at the waist, arms wrapped around his stomach laughing. And Danny just wants to sleep, so ignoring the fact that this will put him on the video, he takes one more step forward and just punches the clown in the face.

He has to use his ghost strength for it, but he concentrates the ability on only his arm so he doesn’t completely transform. Like this, he is strong enough to knock that crazy clown right out in one punch and he falls to the floor in a heap. 

“ Right, well, you kids want to come with me?” Danny asks the children. They nod immediately and run up to him, he lowers them out the window down to a stack of crates below, waiting for them to climb all the way down to the street below before lowering the second kid, because he doesn’t know how sturdy those crates are. Once the second kid is down and they’re both running down the street, he follows. 

He’s about to try and figure out what to do about all the other people inside when the sound of a fight breaks out in the warehouse and the gunshots are Danny’s cue to run. He does not know enough about wherever he is to start showing off his powers just yet and he doesn’t really have enough strength to use them at the moment anyway, given the fight with his parents and his lack of sleep.

So he runs, and hopes that everything will be okay as he tries to find someplace to take a nap. And he forgets about the fact that he is going to be on that video until after he wakes up the next morning.

Now with part 2!

[sissykyliecakes]

PROJECT G2G UPLOADING

*Kylie enters the room, still dolled up and traumatized.*

"Oh! Kylie Cakes! You're just in time for tonight's viewing!"

What? G2 ... Sh*t, don't!

*pretends that it is new*

Wh - what's this?

"We dug this up from your laptop ... And a lot more ..."

Where did you ... These aren't mine!

"Relax, Kylie Cakes." *wink* "Your secret is out."

I ... Huh?

"Come on! You must remember these, right? They were on your computer, sissy girl!"

... *Blush*

"You really thought it was BLIND LUCK that we ended up sissifying you? What normal forfeit involves a 500 day caging? The lads asked us to come up with a tweet for you to send, the bozos!"

So ... Why did you do all of this to me?

"KYLIE! GIRL! YOU WANT THIS! You crave it!"

N ... No ...

"But you were never going to face the truth and admit it on your own! We had to drag you, kicking and screaming because you were so scared to be yourself!"

"Sash ... I'm so sorry!"

"Kylie Cakes, I knew you were a sissy from about 4 days in! You really don't hide these caps well! I can see you writing them sometimes!"

*Kylie crying with shame*

"Hey ... Relax, sissy girlie! It's OK. You're free now. We've done the hard part for you. Now just be you. Use all this stuff you've learned and be YOU. SISSY GIRL YOU. HOT SLUTTY FAGGY YOU!"

"This one's super cute! We'll absolutely let Kylie tag along to the next festival we all do! We'll help you get all the boys you want!"

"We'll start you on these pills tomorrow. By next summer, this could be YOU."

"Stop writing it in fear. Live it with pride!"

"There are so many girls just like you! This is the place for you to shine, Princess!"

"Look! So many here already!"

@cutieecassie @cutiethessa @cambrysissycaptions @itsjennygirlz @sissy-princess-maddi-femme @sissyloren @friendz0ned-b3ta-cuck @alwayscute

"Hehe! Cute! Girl, we could so take a trip to Thailand if this is how you want to spend it!"

"You'll need to get better in heels though! You can't wear flats and do that sort of work!"

*laughing while still crying. Ashamed and relieved. Shivering and burning*

"We also found this one ... You had 5k followers on here before?"

"Why did you leave it, sissy?"

*Kylie composes herself*

It wasn't my choice. I loved it. It just got taken away from me one day. That was that ... All those girls I'd made friends with ... Gone.

"All that means is that you BUILD it back up again! We'll get your old posts out and you can even return to this guided2girlhood name if you like!"

...

Nah ... It turns out that Kylie Cakes has actually grown on me!

*The girls all hug*

_________

The key to storytelling is to never let them know where it's going!

I hope you enjoyed this arc as much as I enjoyed creating it!

We're back to full-on sissy captions and building my empire back to Tumblr Sissy Fame! I've posted some of my old favourites on here! Hope it triggers the sissy nostalgia! Drop a follow if you like them - I'm here to stay. And if I go ... I'll just come back again! And again! And again!

XOXO

"Kylie Cakes"

[minotaurs-my-beloved]

Your first lesson in riding

Cowboy minotaur my beloved<33

TW: nothin! i just love minotaurs and this has been sittin in my drafts for like months. forgive me if the dialogue isn't the best, im not used to writing it

In an attempt to get a fresh start on life, you and a really close friend had recently moved to a new small town in the south thinking it'd be the perfect place. And after a long first day at work, you decided to go to the local bar, wanting to let loose a bit after the stress of moving and your job. 

Standing at the bar, you rest your crossed arms on the wood, ordering a drink. Keeping to yourself because, let's be honest, none of us have the confidence to ever go up to anyone, only to hear someone come up and stand next to you. Flicking your eyes over to see who it is and being graced with the sight of a big, burly, minotaur. His brown short furred body ripples with muscles still visible even through his shirt, shaggy hair slightly covering his eyes, white hat sitting on his head nuzzled between his big sharp horns. 

"Oh... oh he's fuckin' pretty" is all you can think as you stare unabashedly at the man. After a second he feels your gaze and turns slightly to face your direction, the both of you locking eyes. Blushing hard you quickly rip your gaze from him, mentally crying that you no longer get to drool over his Herculean body, a Greek tragedy indeed, but you're far too embarrassed at being caught to try again.

He huffs out a laugh though his cute cow snout at your reaction, the gold bull ring shining in the fairly dim lighting. 

"You must not be from 'roun here, haven't seen you before. Names Mason." He growls out softly, staring down at his drink, a smile on his lips. It takes you a second to understand what he said, your mind lagging like my old ass computer. Turning to him you give him your name then answer him, "I just moved here bout a week ago." You respond, downing your shot, hoping it'll give you some courage, but all it does is burn your throat. He takes a slow sip of his own drink, setting it down, and facing you, "Pretty name for a pretty girl." 

Turning around to lean your back against the wood, you tease him, laughing, "Bit generic." All while trying to ignore that, generic or not, it still made you feel a few butterflies. 

He chuckles, moving to stand in front of you, "Sorry, darlin', I don't get to flirt much with women." You raise your eyebrows slightly at that comment, clearly not believing he doesn't get attention. 

"Mhmmm'' You grin, rolling your eyes playfully. "What? M'bein' serious! I mean sure, they come up to me, but 'm rarely interested enough to actually hold a conversation." He defends, raising his hands and chuckling.  "Oh? Well lucky me, being deemed worthy of your presence," you tease. He nods, leaning over you to grab his drink and take a sip while looking down at you, jokingly humming in agreement.

The tension is thick in the air as you stare at him, lips slightly parted. Without taking the time to actually think about your next move, you raise yourself on your tiptoes, just managing to reach the brim of his hat and pull it off. Placing it on top of your own, you grin up at him. 

He takes a deep breath turning his head to the side and clicking his tongue quietly, just barely managing to contain himself at how damn good you look wearing his hat. 

"You done got me riled, sweetheart. You can't be waltzin' around wearin' a cowboy's hat like that. Gonna give folks the wrong idea."

"Mm, and why is that?"

"There's some old sayin about if you wear a cowboy's hat, you gotta go home wit' 'im. Means nothin' to me, but, everything gets exaggerated and rumors spread like a wildfire in a small town like this." He warns, but that only fuels you more, "What if I want that?" You purr in a low tone, grinning as you run the pad of your thumb on the brim of the hat.

"Fuckin' tease," He growls in response. "You really want that?"

"M'wearin' your hat, aren't I?"

He takes you by the hand, leading you outside to his truck. It's extremely stupid to get in the car with a stranger but you do it anyway, he's just too good to give up. You do send your friend a quick text explaining the situation and give her your location, so at least you weren't completely defenseless.

If anyone were to ask you what his house looks like you'd have no answer, the both of you were far too busy messily kissing to notice literally anything around you. Kicking the door shut and throwing you down on the bed, he starts to slowly undress you. All except the hat.

He spreads your thighs apart, squeezing them while kissing up and down the inner part, leaving little bite marks in his wake, teasing his tongue just around your cunt.

"Stop teasin'!" You whine, bucking your hips slightly, furrowing your brow and pouting. "Yes Ma'am," he lazily salutes, before burying his tongue deep inside your cunt, moaning into your pussy at how good you taste. The vibrations make your eyes roll back, your leg kicking slowly in pleasure. He keeps intense eye contact with you as he laps at your pussy, sloppily making out with your cunt. Flicking his tongue on your clit, he slowly pushes one of his thick fingers inside, beginning to stretch you out.

Three fingers deep, you cum all over his hands and face, your thighs shaking as you pull his hair harshly and scream his name. That only encourages him to go faster, sucking on your clit til you push his head away.

He gives you a cocky grin, licking his fingers clean and giving you one more kiss on your thigh. Tapping your ass twice, he pants, "C'mon, baby, wear the hat, ride the cowboy. Up." Still shaking slightly, you get on you knees, throwing your leg over his body to straddle him.

Groaning as you grind down on him, his fingers press into your skin, leaving little indents on your hips. You lift off of him for a moment to pop the tip in before slowly sinking down on his massive cock, whimpering at the stretch. Stopping half way to catch your breath, he rubs little circles on your skin to soothe you, "You're doin' such a damn good job, darlin', real proud of yah."

He continues to praise you as you begin to take the rest of him. Cautiously, you begin to ride his cock, moaning as he hits every single spot deep inside you. "M-mason! Fuck, so deep!" You rest both of your hands on his chest, using them to help you bounce up and down, whining each time his dick slams deeper into you, tears already beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

He groans, throwing his head back and slapping your ass, moaning out more praise, loving to watch you keen at his words. After a while he notices your thighs trembling and starts helping you lift your hips. "G-gonna cum!" You choke out, he grabs your face, forcing you to look down into his eyes.

"Don't you dare look away." Mason growls, your body forces you to listen, trying your hardest not to let your eyes roll back as you clamp down on your cock, milking him for all he's worth. He holds your hips still as he rams up into you, filling you up with his hot cum.

You collapse onto the bed, the both of you sweaty and panting, Mason reaches over, hooking his arm over your waist and pulling you into his chest, putting his head atop your own.

You're never giving this man up.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗢𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Y/N and Matt are in a complicated relationship, where Matt is still stuck in the past with his ex. In an angsty pathway, Y/N suffers when she realizes that Matt will never love her as she wants.

WARNING: Crying, panic attack, comparison, ANGST.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 2

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted her stunning dress in front of the mirror. The bright red silk fabric hugged her curves in a way she knew would make heads turn that night. Her hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, meticulously styled by her curling iron, and her makeup highlighted her features impeccably.

There was a palpable excitement in the air, an expectation of Matt's reaction; she always expected to receive showers of praise from her boy, just as she did for him. The party they were about to go to - a fancy one that celebrated the launch of the new Space Camp line - would be the perfect opportunity to show everyone, and especially him, how hard she worked to be perfect.

The low sound of the bedroom door's handle turning sounded through the silence, Matt's figure appearing through the wooden frame, and all Y/N could feel as she watched him through the mirror's reflection was her racing heart. He looked stunning in his black suit, the crooked tie relaxing the seriousness of his attire.

She waited for the compliment, for the spark in his eyes that would confirm that all the effort had been worth it.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." Blue eyes traveled over her body for some seconds, but before she could absorb the joy of that moment, he finished. "Did you know that Amanda has a dress similar to yours?"

Y/N felt her stomach tighten painfully as her heart felt like it was being broken by a hammer three times its size. Amanda. Always Amanda. Matt's ex-girlfriend was a constant shadow between them, a specter that Y/N could never completely dispel.

She forced a smile, swallowing the anguish rising in her throat.

"Oh, really?" Was all she could say, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands shaking slightly at the side of her hips.

Later that day, the party continued with Y/N ​​by Matt's side, but her mind was far away. Every time someone praised her, she remembered Matt's comment. Even surrounded by people and with Matt by her side, she felt incredibly alone.

Her thoughts revolved around a single question: Why couldn't he see her for who she was instead of always comparing her to Amanda?

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A few weeks later, a new day brought a new blow. Matt was in his shared room with Y/N, sitting in his gaming chair with his upper body resting on the wooden surface, his hands on his Macbook, busy answering emails sent to the triplets' mail.

Y/N entered quietly, carrying two glasses full of fresh watermelon juice, knowing that Matt would definitely be thirsty and hungry after hours of sitting there. But as she got closer, she saw his computer screen. The messaging app was open, and the open window wasn't just any texts — it was old conversations between Matt and Amanda.

He read them with a melancholic smile, his eyes shining with a longing that Y/N knew all too well.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an involuntary whisper, the broken tone sounding louder than it was expected.

The boy startled, closing the laptop quickly.

"Babe, hey, you scared me!" The boy turned around suddenly, clearing his throat and laughing awkwardly, trying to look casual. "I was just... clearing out some old stuff."

Y/N just nodded, the pain growing inside her chest.

"It's fine. Here, I made this for you." She raised her hand that held the fullest glass, smiling brokenly and keeping her eyes open, taking note on how Matt didn't notice the tears shining in her orbs or pretended not to.

She knew he was lying. She knew he was stuck in the past, that Amanda still dominated his thoughts and his heart. But once again, she chose to ignore it, to stifle her own suffering out of love for him.

Because losing Matt was a fear that outweighed any pain she might feel.

Right?

Right! Until things reached an unbearable point.

Y/N had an appointment at the beauty salon, something she did to feel a little more in control, a little more beautiful in a reality where she always felt insufficient. Matt said he couldn't accompany her, claiming he had videos to film with his brothers. She understood, or at least she tried.

It was Saturday, they didn't film on Saturday.

Sitting in the salon chair, while her nails were being done and her hair was treated, Y/N took out her phone to pass the time, holding the device awkwardly for fear of smudging her sparkling nail polish.

Scrolling through Instagram while her ears caught some conversations around the salon, her heart almost flew out of its place and up her mouth when she saw a photo that one of the celebrity gossip pages had just posted.

Matt was in a coffee shop with Amanda.

His smile was radiant, a kind of joy Y/N hadn't seen on his face in a long time. He looked so… complete, so genuinely happy.

Y/N felt the world come crashing down around her. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back, looking around at all the other radiant women before turning her attention back to the news, clutching her cell between her left fingers, a low "sorry" scaping her lips when her right hand trembled against the manicurist ones.

She didn't give a shit that they were talking in a cafe, she didn't mind if they wanted to be friends again - even though she had destroyed Matt, and Y/N was the one to put him together again -, it was something else that bothered her.

Matt had lied to her. He said he was going to film. What the fuck was he doing out with Amanda?

But the truth was right there, raw and painful: Matt would never be fully hers. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she sacrificed, he would always be stuck in the past in the love he had for Amanda. He would always go back to her.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a smile as the manicurist applied red nail polish to her nails on her left hand. The color perfectly matched the feelings she felt at that moment; dark.

Every move by the salon professionals seemed like a desperate attempt to beautify her for someone who would never see her true beauty. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her mind from going back to that image of Matt smiling with Amanda. It was a smile she could never get out of him.

"You look amazing, Y/N!" Cintia, the girl's hairdresser for years now, praised excitedly, straightening the last strands of hair just finished and turning the chair so that Y/N could see herself in the mirror. "Matt will love it."

Y/N looked at her reflection, but all she saw was an improved version of herself that, despite all her effort, would never be enough for Matt. She would always be just a shadow, a pale substitute.

"Thank you..." The girl tried to say, but her voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

The room around her seemed like a golden prison, full of mirrors that only reflected her internal pain. Every compliment, every word of encouragement, sounded hollow, meaningless, because the person whose opinion mattered most was, at that very moment, laughing and smiling with another woman; the woman he truly loved.

When Y/N finally left the salon, she felt exhausted, as if she had run an emotional marathon. She walked slowly to her home, opting not to call an Uber.

Her hands fished her phone out of her half-open purse, and, with trembling fingers decorated in red, she sent a text to Diana, her best friend.

"Diana, are you home? Can I sleep there tonight?"

As she waited for the answer, her mind wandered through a whirlwind of thoughts. The pain was constant but mixed with a new resolve.

She needed to get out of there. She needed space to breathe, to think.

"Of course, babes!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Getting home was an automatic process. The house she shared with the triplets seemed colder and more hostile than ever.

Y/N walked past the living room where Chris and Nick were sprawled awkwardly on the gray couch playing video games, their excited laughter, and screams a cruel contrast to the pain she felt.

"Y/N!" Nick smiled brightly when he saw his best friend out of the corner of his eye. "Want to play a round with us?"

"No thanks, Nick. I'm tired." She murmured, smiling wide and fake - even though he wasn't looking at her directly -, trying to appear normal.

She walked slowly down the path between the living room and kitchen, each step a reminder of what she was about to do.

Her hands worked automatically on the door, entering her shared room with Matt, closing it behind her, the sound of the lock clicking echoing like a period in her mind. She looked around, taking in the details that made the space a home - the photos on the wall, the personal items, the memories. But now, it all felt empty.

She grabbed a suitcase stored at the back of their shared closet and began filling it with her necessities. The simple act of opening the suitcase caused a wave of despair to hit her.

Every piece of clothing and every object that her hands roughly touched and threw blindly into the suitcase was a small stab in her heart. The tears finally started to stream down her face, and she didn't try to stop them. Reality was imposing itself in a cruel way.

Her movements became slower and slower, while her thoughts became more chaotic.

"I'll never be enough for him."

"I'll never be her."

"He'll never love me the way I love him."

"I'm destroying myself for someone who cares little about me."

"What did I do wrong?"

These thoughts repeated like a cruel mantra in her mind. She felt her breathing quicken. Her lungs seemed unable to take in enough air. The room, which had always been a refuge, now felt like an oppressive cell. Panic began to set in. Her chest felt tight, her hands shook, and the air seemed to escape.

The tears flowed like hot, relentless waterfalls. The suitcase was open in front of her, half full, but it seemed like an insurmountable abyss. Y/N tried to take a deep breath, but each attempt only resulted in more despair.

The sobs came strong and uncontrollable. The girl stopped in front of the bed, standing, after throwing the last piece taken by her hands, bending her upper body over the suitcase, gripping the edge of the thick fabric with such strength that it made her fingers take on a whitish color, fully throwing her weight on her arms as if they were a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

"Why am I not good enough?"

"What is wrong with me?"

"Why can’t he love me?"

She felt completely alone, drowning in her own pain. The panic attack took over, stealing any trace of control she still had.

The walls of the room seemed to close in on Y/N, the contours of the furniture becoming indistinct and threatening as her breathing became increasingly rapid and shallow. Her heart hammered in her chest with an almost painful force, each beat ringing in her ears like deafening thunder. The air felt thick, sticky, and impossible to inhale properly.

"Am I really that hard to be loved?"

"I wish I was her."

"He was never mine, right?"

Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers tingling over her suitcase as a feeling of numbness spread through her arms. Sweat dripped down her forehead, leaving her feeling sticky and uncomfortable, while the cold began to spread throughout her body, generating incessant chills.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room distorting into restless shadows that danced and pulsed, transforming the room into a place strangely familiar and frighteningly alien at the same time. Each sound seemed amplified and distant, the ones of laughter and the clicks of long and simple kisses played in memories in her head like a record player at its highest volume, creating a surreal echo that only intensified the feeling of isolation and despair.

Exhausted, Y/N let herself sink to the floor, her sobs echoing in the empty room, an expression of the pain and loneliness that she felt suffocating herself relentlessly. Her legs folded in front of her body, the front of her thighs sticking firmly against her stomach as her arms served as a shield for her head, her hands involuntarily going up to her own hair, gripping the strands tightly, trying to ground herself.

Meanwhile, Nick ran towards her and Matt's room with quick, excited steps. He had just finished the last round of his video game with Chris and was looking forward to seeing the outcome of Y/N's salon day, hoping it would make her happier after noticing the inconsistency in her voice when she got home.

His closed fist lightly knocked on the door before opening it, the smile on his face instantly disappearing as his eyes met the scene before him.

Y/N was on the floor, curled up in a fetal position, her hands now grabbing her arms in a desperate hug. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes wide and fixed on a distant, indistinct point. Her breathing was ragged, labored, as if she were trying to pull air through a narrow, clogged straw. The sound of her panting was interspersed with heavy sobs, creating a symphony of anguish that made Nick's heart tighten in his chest.

"Y/N!" Nick called, his voice thick with panic. But to Y/N, his words were like distant whispers, drowned out by the deafening noise of her own frantically beating heart.

Her mind was in a whirlwind of chaotic, disorganized thoughts, each competing for attention and increasing the feeling of panic. She felt trapped in an endless cycle of terror, unable to escape the downward spiral that consumed her.

The feeling of suffocation was overwhelming, as if an invisible weight was pressing down on her chest, making every desperate attempt to breathe difficult. The seconds seemed to stretch into a torturous eternity, each second carrying a new wave of fear and despair.

Nick ran up to her, the panic on his face intensifying by the second. He knelt beside Y/N, trying to find a way to reach her, to bring her back from that abyss of despair. His hands shook as he gently pulled her close, enveloping her in a tight, protective hug.

"I’m here, Y/N, I’m here." He repeated, his voice choked with emotion, praying to whatever was watching them to make her listen to him. But she didn't seem to be able to do it, lost in her own spiral of panic.

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to stay calm. He knew he needed to be strong for her, and he needed to find a way to calm her.

"Y/N, look at me, please." He pleaded, voice softer, trying to break the invisible barrier that kept her trapped in her own fear. The brunette held her face with his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Breathe with me, okay? Breathe slowly."

He began to breathe deeply, exaggerating his movements so she could follow. He breathed in slowly and deeply through his nose, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling through his mouth. He felt Y/N tremble in his arms, but he kept pace, trying to convey calmness through each breath.

"That's it, keep going, you can do it." Nick encouraged, feeling a small change in her breathing. Her panting began to synchronize with his, although it was still irregular. He continued to whisper words of comfort, repeating that he was there, that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, very slowly, he felt the stiffness in her body begin to ease. Y/N's breathing became a little steadier, although she was still shaking. Nick kept the hug tight, feeling her heart beat against his own chest. He knew she was still scared, still trapped in her mind, but she was starting to come back.

"You're safe, Y/N. I'm here." Nick said once again, his voice firm and reassuring. He didn't let go of her face, maintaining eye contact, grounding her to reality. "Let's get through this together, okay?"

Finally, after several minutes that felt like hours, Y/N began to breathe in a more controlled manner. Her sobs subsided, and her eyes, once wide with terror, began to focus on Nick's. Her blurred vision cleared a little, the walls of the room seeming less threatening.

Nick sighed in relief, still holding her tightly, feeling the tension gradually ease in her muscles.

His own heart was still beating fast, but now, for a different reason. He looked around, trying to understand the situation better, when his blue orbs stopped on the open suitcase above the bed. The sight of the packed suitcase made his heart sink. Confusion and fear settled in his chest. What was happening? Why was she packing her things? The thought of Y/N leaving caused him his own panic, an intense worry that he tried to suppress, deciding that the questions could wait.

With a conscious effort, he looked away from the suitcase and focused on the immediate task of taking care of Y/N. He stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact to ensure she didn't feel abandoned for even a moment. The boy grabbed the pink bottle of water from the bedside table on her side of the bed and quickly returned, sitting next to her on the cold floor again. The hard ground beneath him was a sharp contrast to the softness of concern he felt for Y/N.

"Here, drink some water." He asked softly, handing Y/N the bottle.

The fragile girl took the bottle with hands that were still shaking but managed to open the cap and take a few small sips, each one firmer than the last. Nick watched her every move, his mind still spinning around the suitcase. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unasked questions. He waited patiently, without pressing, standing by her side like a pillar of support.

After long seconds of silence, Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze shifting from the bottle to the suitcase on the bed. She knew she needed to explain. Nick deserved to know what was going on, especially after helping her get through that panic attack. She straightened up a little, trying to find the strength to speak.

"Nick..." She began, her voice still trembling. "I... I'm packing because I need to get out of here for a while. I can't stay here any longer, the way things are between me and..." Her voice trailed off into the air before she could mention the name of the boy she loved most in the world.

Nick felt a lump form in his throat, but he remained calm, waiting for her to continue. Y/N took another sip of water before continuing, her words coming out in a halting, painful stream.

"I saw Matt with Amanda today, you know? They were together, and he looked so happy… happier than I've ever seen him with me." Her voice cracked again, but she took a deep breath and continued. "It made me realize that no matter how much I love him, he will never love me the same way. And I can't keep destroying myself like this. So, I'm going to spend the night at Diana's house. I need some time to think, to calm down. Get away from here. Get away from him. And maybe make him miss me... Or finally notice that I'm not what he wants." The last part came out in a broken whisper, her gaze lowering to her crossed legs.

Nick felt a wave of relief upon hearing that she wasn't leaving his life forever, but the worry and sadness over her situation still weighed heavily on him. He wanted to say something, anything to ease her pain, but the words seemed inadequate. Instead, he just nodded, offering silent support.

"And please, Nick, don't tell Matt anything yet." Y/N asked, her eyes pleading. "I need a little time to understand what I'm going to do. He really hurt me, but I can't act on impulse."

Nick held her hand firmly, offering her an expression of understanding and support.

"Of course, Y/N. I won't tell him. I promise." He murmured sincerely. "You can have all the time you need. And I'm here for you, no matter what. I love my little brother, but I won't defend him when he's in the wrong end. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are, Y/N. Someone who loves you completely, without shadows of the past."

They sat there for a few more minutes, sharing that moment of stillness and understanding. The cold of the ground seemed less intense with each other's comforting presence.

Eventually, Y/N stood up, with Nick helping her place her suitcase on the floor. She took one last look at the room she had shared with Matt, pain visible in her eyes but also a growing determination. She knew she needed to step away to heal, to find her own strength again.

"Let's go." Nick's voice woke her from her reverie, his hands picking up her suitcase and walking it to the door. "I'll uber you to Diana's house."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt returned home with a beaming smile on his face, his heart still racing with the joy of the friendly encounter he had had. He had spent the afternoon with Amanda, talking and laughing like old times, and the feeling of familiarity and happiness was undeniable.

The boy climbed the stairs of the house with quick steps, eager to see Y/N and share his good mood with her. He wanted to hold her close on their bed, bury his nose in the curve of her neck, and smell her soft and natural perfume as he told her about his day.

But when he opened the bedroom door, a strange feeling of tension in the air made him stop. The environment felt different, as if something had changed, but he couldn't identify what it was. He entered the space, leaving the door open behind him, turning his body and letting his eyes roam the four walls, trying to find what was wrong. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance: the bed was made, his clothes were in the same place, the books were on the shelf, and the computer was on the computer desk. But there was an absence he still couldn't understand.

It was when he opened the closet that reality began to form in his mind. Y/N's side was almost empty. Where her dresses, skirts, and t-shirts once hung, now there were just a few lonely hangers. The empty space where her suitcase sat now felt like a black hole, sucking in all the light and joy he had felt moments before.

Matt felt his heart stop for a second, a feeling of panic starting to take over his chest.

"Y/N? Hey, baby? Are you cleaning out the closet by any chance?" Matt's broken voice sounded through the room in an echo, seeming to escape out the door and travel the entire floor of the house, his blue eyes still fixed on the empty hangers as his mind created the expectation of hearing the sweet, melodious voice back.

But nothing came.

Nick appeared silently in the doorway, watching his younger brother with a serious expression. Matt was so absorbed in his desperate search for answers that he didn't notice Nick's presence until he heard his voice.

"She left."

Matt turned abruptly, his wide, confused eyes meeting Nick's. The older triplet's expression was one of deep sadness, mixed with calm determination. Matt felt a wave of despair rise up inside him, like an overwhelming tide ready to swallow him.

"What do you mean 'she left'?" Matt asked, his voice trembling accompanied by an expression of terror. "Where- Where did she go?"

Nick sighed, taking a step forward, eyes shining with suppressed anger.

"That doesn't matter now. What matters is that you need to decide what you really want, Matt. She saw you with Amanda today, you know?"

Matt felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. He looked around the room again, this time with a clear understanding of what was missing. Y/N, the constant, loving presence in his life, was gone.

"I don't understand..." Matt muttered almost to himself. "I thought we were fine."

"Only you saw this. Seeing you with Amanda was the last straw for her. She loves you, she really does, but she can't keep living like this, Matt, not when she knows that you still have feelings for your ex." Nick scoffed, a disgusted tone echoing with his words, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in suppressed anger. "And you can't continue like this, dividing your attention between Y/N and Amanda. This is destroying Y/N, and you don't even realize it."

"But I... I was just trying to be friends with Amanda again. I don't have feelings for her anymore." Matt spluttered, confusion and guilt beginning to mix in his chest.

"Then why do you keep seeing her?" Nick countered, with no softness in his words. "Y/N loves you, Matt. She loves you so much that she is destroying herself because you don't treat her like you should. She needs you, and you're here, acting like nothing's wrong. And if you continue like this, you will permanently lose the only girl who has truly stuck by your side through thick and thin."

Matt felt a lump tighten in his throat. He tried to speak, but words failed him. The image of Y/N, the woman he loved, suffering in silence because of her insensitivity, was unbearable.

He felt foolish and insensitive. How had he not realized how much Y/N ​​was suffering? All he wanted was to be able to hug her now, tell her that he loved her, and that she was the only person that mattered. But at that moment, he realized how late those words could be.

"I didn't cheat on her, Nick. I really was with Amanda, but I didn't… I didn't do anything wrong." Matt's voice sounded choked, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as anxiety rose through his body like rafters.

"You think you didn't, Matt. But sometimes, it's not about what you do but about how you make the other person feel. And honestly? Giving priority to your ex, the girl who broke you and made you suffer for days on end, over Y/N, who you say you love oh so much, is low blow. Right now, Y/N needs space to breathe to understand her own feelings. And you need to truly analyze what you did and recant with her when she is ready."

Matt walked with shaky steps towards the double bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands. The weight of guilt and regret was crushing. All he could think about was how he wanted to turn back in time, do things differently, show Y/N that she was the center of his world. Never have lunch with Amanda.

"I need to talk to her." Matt tightened his fingers around the brown strands of her hair, sniffling. "I need to tell her that I'm sorry, that I love her. I really do, Nick."

"I know. But give her a little time, Matt. Forcing a conversation now might make things worse. Let her process everything, and then you can try talking to her." Nick advised, watching him closely before he turned, walking towards the door. "And next time, treat her like the wonderful woman she is, not like a replacement."

Matt nodded slowly, begrudgingly, knowing his brother was right, the despair turning into a silent, constant pain. The room around him, which had once been a haven of love and shared memories, now seemed like an empty, desolate space. The mattress beneath his body, where both of their bodies lay together just the day before, now felt like an icy surface, sending horrible shivers through his body.

His mind betrayed him by making him remember the moments when he had treated Y/N with indifference and neglect, moments that he now saw with painful clarity. Each memory was like a stab to the heart, revealing the depth of his callousness. Y/N's smiles that he had taken for granted, the nights she waited up for him while he lost himself in thoughts of the past, the comparisons...

He could now see the small changes in her expression, the way her eyes sparkled less, how her smile became rarer with each passing day. She was withdrawing, and he was blindly contributing to that withdrawal.

Sitting there, now alone in the room, Matt felt the weight of his own guilt and regret. He realized that he had never made Y/N feel like the most important woman in her life. Instead, he had relegated her to the background, allowing the shadows of his former relationship to contaminate the present. Y/N's love and dedication towards him contrasted painfully with his own indifference.

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[nczennie]

angel is the centerfold.

Pairing: Reader x Ateez's Yunho AU: Exes, Nonidol Genre: Smut (18+ only) Preview: "You never would've imagined she'd be doing something like this, right?" Wooyoung asks trying to divert from the fact that he and San had looked at you. Yunho purses his lips and closes the magazine, eyes twitching as he tries his hardest not to glance down at it. "It is very surprising," he mumbles recalling when you both dated. Words: 3.8k *warnings under cut

Warnings: Protected penetrative sex- vaginal and anal, ass play, spitting, cum eating

Yunho stares at the small clock in the corner of his computer, blinking slowly as he waits for it to hit 5:00pm. He usually doesn't mind his office job, but it's Friday evening and his eyes are burning from staring at the bright screen all week.

All he wants now is to get home and order some takeout to enjoy with a cold beer while he hops on a game with Yeosang.

But when he finally enters his home, he frowns at the sight of two of his friends making themselves comfortable on his couch.

"Finally!" Wooyoung calls out throwing his head back causing Yunho to roll his eyes as he sets his stuff down, "There was traffic." He grumbles suddenly regretting his decision to give all his friends keys to his apartment when he was feeling sentimental about moving out after university.

Yunho takes a seat beside his friends on his couch ignoring them in favor of looking at the takeout menu on his phone. But sensing Wooyoung's stare he looks up, feeling uneasy with the smug smile on his face. "What?" He asks blankly causing Wooyoung to laugh so he looks to his other friend, San, who has a bit of a frown on his lips.

"You'll never guess what San stumbled across today." He smirks and Yunho's interest is peaked, placing his phone down to give them his full attention. Wooyoung nods towards San who sighs.

"Look I don't want your judgment, just focus on the main point, okay?" San defends sitting up and Wooyoung only laughs louder. San continues, "I was on my lunch break, and I was intrigued by this magazine-"

Wooyoung laughs louder, San blushes, and Yunho stares confused, waiting for the point. "Anyways I bought the magazine, and I was looking through it and found someone I recognized."

"What kind of magazine was it?" Wooyung teases and San shakes his head, "It was a dirty magazine, alright. Don't act like you don't fucking watch porn every night, I can hear you know." Wooyoung mouth forms a straight, unamused line, "Don't bring me into this."

San ignores him, reaching to grab the magazine and hand it to Yunho, "You should see who's in it, right in the middle."

Yunho grabs the magazine suddenly intrigued, flipping along to find the middle. Who could it be, an old teacher, someone they grew up with?

But as he finds the middle, opening up the magazine to look his heart drops to see it was someone he recognizes very well. It was you.

His face turns red as he takes in the pictures, you were shirtless, your breasts on display for all to see, only a pair of skimpy underwear and some socks covering you up. Your hair and makeup were glowy and flawless as you gave the camera a sultry look, mouth slightly parted.

"Angel is the centerfold," Wooyoung smirks, and Yunho is suddenly brought to the reality that his friends saw you like this.

"You both looked at this?" He glares at them, and they seem stuck. "I bought the magazine, of course, I looked at it!" San defends himself and Wooyoung joins, "And when he saw her, he had to show me to see if it was really her."

Yunho's dark look only stays as he tries to comprehend the fact that his friends saw his ex-once innocent- girlfriend practically naked. He remembers Seonghwa once accidentally walked in on you changing and he tackled him to the ground.

"You never would've imagined she'd be doing something like this, right?" Wooyoung asks trying to divert from the fact that he and San had looked at you. Yunho purses his lips and closes the magazine, eyes twitching as he tries his hardest not to glance down at it. "It is very surprising," he mumbles recalling when you both dated it took months before either of you were comfortable to take your shirts off in front of each other.

There's a beat of silence and Wooyoung sighs feeling the tension in the air after showing Yunho, "Well we best be going, just wanted to show you." He motions towards the magazine as he stands up. San follows as Yunho sighs, "Yeah thanks I guess."

The tall boy looks up confused from the couch as he realizes San still stands in front of him despite Wooyoung walking to the door. "Um, can I have my magazine?" He murmurs shyly and Yunho forgets he has to send this picture of you home with his friends. "Don't worry, he'll skip over her page when he's tugging himself off later." Wooyoung calls from the door and Yunho only glares up at San who turns red.

Yunho stands and shoves the magazine back into San's arms who quickly rushes out the door. He can still hear Wooyoung's loud laugh even after they close the door.

He's had his takeout, his cold beer, and has at this point won several rounds of his game. But now lying in bed there's still a thought nagging in the back of his mind.

With a huff he grabs his phone off the nightstand, squinting at the brightness in his dark room before opening the Instagram app. You had never had social media before, but he figured it was worth checking. Although his heart raced at the possibility that your profile was full of pictures similar to one, he saw earlier.

After searching for a few minutes, he finds you. It's a private profile but he recognizes your smile in the profile picture. You look happy standing on what looks like a beach behind you.

You and Yunho dated for years back in university. The both of you growing and blossoming together. Being shy and inexperienced in the world of dating, you both learned a lot from each other. Romantically, emotionally, sexually...

Therefore, Yunho can't help but be surprised to see you posing in such a way for all to see when he was the first to ever see you in such a way.

After minutes of contemplating, he pushes the follow request button before tossing his phone away from him. It's not like you ended on bad terms. You both just simply grew apart as you grew up. So it couldn't be that strange for him to follow you, right?

But Yunho pushes the thought out of his mind, not allowing himself to look at his phone any longer until morning.

It's late the next morning when the notification he was waiting for finally graces his phone. Not only had you accepted his follow request, but you requested to follow him back. His heart beats expectedly as he pushes to see your profile.

To his relief, or dismay? He isn't quite sure.

There are no such posts that resemble that of the magazine. Most of them are of your travels and he carefully makes his way through each one.

Yunho stays staring at your profile as he contemplates whether or not he should message you. What would he even say? My friends showed me your picture in a dirty magazine and now I can't stop thinking about you and all the things we used to do together. Probably a bit too much, so he settles for letting you follow him back as well.

A week later he sees you post to your story. A picture of you and a friend out to drink at a bar he recognizes being downtown. His thumb hesitates but eventually pushes the like button and focuses on his friend's conversation once more.

Later that night he's comfortably lounging on the couch when he gets a notification from Instagram. He sits up straighter when he sees you've sent him a direct message.

His throat feels dry as he quickly opens it. What if it was a mistake? You had been drinking tonight as he could see from your story. But the message is simple.

Yunho :) how are you?

He can't help but smile and he replies quickly not even thinking how it might seem desperate.

But alas that is how he spent the rest of the night, and the whole weekend talking and catching up with you. It was so nice he even almost forgot about your picture in the magazine. Almost.

It's the next weekend and you and Yunho just got back from a lovely date. He took you for ice cream after work and you thought it was cute he recreated your old first date all those years ago.

However, you are both older now so when Yunho asked if you wanted to come back to his place to...have a drink, you agreed.

"The view is amazing," You state in awe as you walk over to the large windows that overlooks the city. Yunho smiles from where he's lighting some candles, "I guess the office job pays off once in a while."

He moves towards the kitchen to pour you both a drink and you enjoy the view for a moment longer before joining him. "You saw one of my pictures, didn't you?"

Yunho's hand twitches and he accidentally spills the whisky which causes a giggle to grace your lips. He feels his ears start to burn as he grabs a towel to clean his mess. "Um," he starts but falls quiet. "From the magazine." You state again as if you couldn't tell he was just embarrassed rather than unsure.

A smile lingers on your face as you take the glass he hands you and take a sip from his own. "I did, yeah. Actually, it was San and Wooyoung who saw and showed me."

He watches as your mouth parts slightly before you let out a laugh. Bring the glass to your lips, and you clear your throat after taking a sip. "I guess that's pretty awkward." He can't help but smile softly at you, "I mean they were pretty amused." A blush rises to your cheeks as you shake your head with a shy smile.

"How did you know? That I saw, I mean." Yunho states and you look up at him once again. "This wouldn't be the first time someone from my past found me on social media after seeing my pictures." You chuckle, "Guys from high school, university, hell even my physics professor reached out after seeing." He frowns both from hearing about the weird professor and because he feels a bit chummy about doing the same as all these others reaching out to you.

Seeing his reaction you speak again, "But of course I've never replied to their messages and advances. I've blocked almost all of them too." You take another sip and he feels a bit more comfortable.

"So how exactly did you start doing this? I don't exactly recall this being related to your major." He teases slightly and you laugh softly. "When I moved after graduation, my roommate suggested I go for an audition where she worked too. It wasn't supposed to be permanent, just to help with money while I was searching for jobs."

"But the money ended up being amazing. Now a couple years later and I still enjoy it." You shrug, "I won't do it forever, but for now I can live comfortably and travel lots. So it works out." You explain and he nods listening intently.

The sips of whisky are starting to set in, so he speaks again, "And you messaged me. What makes me different than all those other guys searching for you after seeing your pictures?"

You look up at him, eyes dancing over his face before you smile, "Because you're Yunho. We loved each other once."

His tongue comes out to wet his lips as he stares back down at you.

"Fuck, there you go."

Yunho groans letting his eyes close for a moment before he forces them open once more, not wanting to miss the sinful way you take his cock in your mouth. You're on your knees between his legs as he sits on his bed. Wearing nothing but your white panties and a pair of frilly socks that looked cute with your outfit, but now looks identical to your outfit in the magazine.

His mouth parts with a shaky breath as you take him particularly deep. You were never quite able to take in all of his size, but you always worked your hand diligently around what you couldn't fit.

Your glazed eyes looked up at him as if seeking his reactions. His large hand reaches down to move some of the hair falling onto your face, not wanting it to reach the spit and drool leaking from your mouth.

It's with a hollow of your cheeks and a swipe of your tongue that Yunho has to pull you off of him for fear of finishing too early. He pulls you off with a pop and messily connects his mouth with yours, his tongue parting the string of spit that still connected your mouth to his cock.

His large hands reach down to grasp at your waist and pull you to sit beside him on the bed. Yunho still kisses you deeply, tongue reaching every part of your mouth.

Eventually, he breaks to leave wet kisses down your jaw to your neck as you both catch your breath. Goosebumps rise to your skin as his left-hand ghosts over your stomach before reaching into your panties. A small gasp leaves your lips as he immediately connects with your clit, rubbing slow circles to match the pace of his kisses.

"Yunho," you whine, hips twitching up as he lowers his hand, one of his long fingers slipping into your hole with your wetness. He hums against your neck as you clench around him.

He adds another finger to your heat as he nibbles playfully at your jaw, "My baby's so tight." You can only grip his sheets between your fingers as he continues to stretch you out for him slowly.

Without warning he removes his fingers from you and reaches for your panties to take off. Pulling them down your legs as he pushes you further onto the bed. "Turn around for me, baby, wanna taste you." Yunho says in his deep voice and you whimper as you flip yourself.

You get yourself comfortable on your knees, leaning forward to rest on your forearms as Yunho climbs onto the mattress behind you. You can't help but bite your lip and close your eyes as Yunho's warm hands find their place on your ass. Massaging you roughly before you feel the warmth of his breath on you.

Shuddering out a moan as his tongue makes contact with your core, you feel as he hums in response. He uses his hands to spread you for him, taking a second to spit straight on your cunt, adding to your wetness and watching it drip before he goes straight in to slurp it up.

Forgetting just how messy Yunho likes to get while eating you out, you find yourself getting breathless from moaning in this position. The feeling of his tongue and lips moving against you, obviously loving it just as much as you as you feel him push his face against you.

You mull as he lets his tongue wander upwards, circling around your ass, causing you to jerk. He lets his tongue play there before moving to your cunt once more. Yunho has always been into ass play but while the two of dated, you never went farther than his tongue or fingertips gracing over you.

He pulls away with a slap to your ass and you whine causing him to chuckle as he reaches for his nightstand. Grabbing a condom and placing it on himself as quickly as possible.

"C'mon, Yunho, please." You attempt to move your hips backward to meet him as he teases his cock along your folds but never quite pushes himself fully in. He tsks, "Needy baby." He mumbles before finally pushing his tip into your waiting hole.

"Fuck, so big." You whine as he continues to push fully inside of you. A sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest as his pelvis pushes flat against your ass. Both of you take a moment to adjust before he starts moving his hips steadily.

One of Yunho's large hands comes to grab at your hip, helping keep his pace steady as he pounds his cock into you at a more rapid pace. Tiny sounds of pleasure leave your lips as he rocks into, "You feel so good around me baby, I've missed this." Yuhno claims breathlessly.

Suddenly you have a desire that causes you to bite your lip. You reach one of your hands up behind you, keeping your balance as you bring your hand to where you and Yunho meet. "Yeah," He groans breathlessly as he watches two of your fingers spread over where his cock is splitting you open.

Seconds later you move those same fingers upwards towards your less occupied hole, running your fingers over it as you speak up to Yunho. "You can go here." You say the best you can.

His hips stutter before he stills completely, "What?" He asks, not quite sure if the sex is making him hallucinate. A giggle escapes your lips at his reaction. "You can put it in my ass, Yunho." You say bluntly which causes Yunho to blush despite the fact that his cock remains in your cunt.

"Really?" He tries not to sound too excited as you do your best to look at him from your bent-over position. "Yes, but go slow, please. I haven't had something as big as you are yet." A shudder rakes over him at your words and he has to close his eyes for a second before continuing. "Alright," he speaks but starts to move his hips to fuck you once more.

His pace is slower now as he focuses on the new territory in front of him. Using both of his hands to spread you open for him, he spits directly into your unused hole. Taking one of the fingers to spread it diligently before pushing said finger in.

It causes both of your eyes to close, Yunho's heart pounding as he feels the tightness of you. His hips start to move quicker as he moves his finger more comfortably, moving to fit a second one not long after.

Having enough, he pulls his fingers from your ass before spitting twice more onto the hole. Taking his cock out of you, he leans forwards to run his tongue over your ass once more. Licking and spitting in ways that have whining.

With a shaky breath, he brings himself straight, taking his covered cock in his hand, lining the tip up to you. "Fuck," He whispers merely at the sight, breathing in before he pushes into you.

He can feel you tense right away but a moan rips from your throat at the stretch. True to his word, he moves slowly, unable to move his eyes from the sight of his cock entering you in a place he only ever dreamed of.

Once he's finally as far as he can get, he pauses, for you but as well as for him. He has to close his eyes and breathe deeply to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

"So good, so full. Yunho, you're so big," You whine to him which causes him to throw his head back with a groan. You always did know how to stroke his ego.

Yunho licks his lips when he decides it is safe to move, moving his hips slowly to start to fuck you once again. His pace isn't as fast as earlier, but you both enjoy this slower pace in new territory. He lets his hands grip tightly onto your ass, massaging you roughly as he continues.

Eventually a soft, "My neck hurts," breaks from your mouth in between moans which causes him to stop. With a smile, he pulls out and helps you readjust to a more comfortable position on your back.

You pull him close with a smile and your arms around his neck. He smiles smugly above you, one hand holding your thigh around his waist and the other taking his cock to insert himself into your ass once again.

This time you both can see the way each other's mouth drops and eyes flutter at the feeling of being connected. Yunho leans further down, chest brushing yours as his hips regain a rhythm. There's moaning and kissing and licking into each other as he fucks you until you at last let him know you weren't far from cumming.

At your words, Yunho hoists himself up and moves one of his hands to rub at your clit. Your moans become whinier as your stomach tightens. He stops his assault on your clit before taking two of his fingers and pushing them into your empty cunt. He thrusts quickly matching the pace of his hips, your wetness causing the room to fill the room with lewd sounds. Your breath quickens and you bring your hand to his forearm, desperate to grab at anything.

The pleasure he brings you washes over you like a waterfall and leaves you twitching. You whine as he removes his fingers from your now-soaked cunt and slows the paces of his cock.

Blinking your eyes open you see him smirking down at you, "Does my baby feel good, hm?" He asks deeply and you nod.

"I'm gonna cum soon, do you think you can sit up for me?" He speaks and you agree once more. Yunho moves his hips quickly once again, fucking his cock into your ass once last time until he's groaning and breathing deeply.

"Fuck," he finally breaths and pulls out of you, carefully helping you sit up before he removes the condom from his cock. You look up at him, mouth slightly parted, looking at him with a sultry look, breasts on display for him.

Looking suspiciously like the picture he saw of you in San's magazine.

Yunho jerks himself quickly eyes jumping from your face to your body. "My pretty baby." He says breathlessly, "Gonna cum on you, gonna mark you as mine." He mumbles with a groan before his cum starts to spurt. He aims his cock at your breasts and you move to cup them. Fingers running over your hard nipples causing him to groan further as he finishes on you.

"All yours." You speak to him, keeping eye contact as you swipe a drop of him from your breasts and suck it into your mouth.

"Fuck," his cock twitches as you smirk at him causing his lips to quirk, "You're driving me crazy."

Copyright © 2024 by nczennie. All rights reserved.

🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼

[ese1anime]

(Sigh)here we go,my first Au of TADC heheh yaaayyy hope yall like what I got so far of it

If you like BATIM(Bendy And The Ink Machine) then you’ll like what I’m creating for this Au…

Behold!!

Meet the Gang:

Emotion of the others:

🩶:the person

💖:crush

💚:friend/bestie

🧡:normal around

❤️:hate

(For this is the best thing I can come up with on their heights I did my best to keep the height and putting them in a row)

>Lore of the story<><>

For some of us we know that game of bendy and the ink machine has become popular for gamers that have played it or those that seen it along with knowing how virtual reality can bring a whole new side of what’s real but isn’t with headsets.Well what if they both were combined together into a whole new adventure for others to see and experience what it’s like to actually play in a horror game between BATIM and TADC all together called ✨The Amazing

Digital Ink Machine✨

The Digital Studio in a computer that is filmed to bring others that Virtual Reality life that is part of a bendy and the ink machine vibes,where lots of ink flows from the top to bottom and covered in history that is yet to behold of the ink machine.But like most people that get stuck in a virtual world,it takes your soul to another place and into a different body,making it your mission to complete it or be stuck for all eternity (just like jumanji but different 😁).For your soul can contain lots of digital hallucinations when your stuck in a studio for who knows how long and with the ink flowing,places that can be unlocked,and not knowing who you are by then for it makes a person forget their own existence or the life they thought they knew before or what they will become then………

<><><><><><><><><><><>

{}{}The Storyline{}{}{}{

Pomni was put into the system to discover what has happened to those that went missing in the real world and it’s up to her to find the pieces to this adventure she will be taking by Caine 🖤💛🖤

With each path she takes ,she must find each and one of the pieces to fix this mess that has caused a lot of damage to the system and the people that got stuck in the world as well while facing the one that has caused so many to be stuck in this digital world Ink Demon that trapped other players into this place (those that have gone missing and never returned to the real world or to their real bodies)

for Caine[AI] a companion member,comes along to give pomni some company or to help her as he was programmed to do 🖤💛🖤along with the friends that pomni will get to meet as well

Stuff that will be included in this Au:

Studio underground:

For it will bring out circus vibes to it but also make it look like a old cartoon vibe (like bendy and his friends look like)

NPC:

For they are part of the ink and tend to make it a game when facing them or come across their path throughout the quest

ink-Abstractiors:

They are like the abstraction but as giant ink monsters that leave trails of ink when they are found roaming around the area

(For this is what I got so far of the what will be added on here only because I’m working on other stuff more more often,this will be my side project of The Amazing Digital Ink Machine 💛🖤)

<><><><><><><><><><><>

{Boundaries/QnA}

•”Is this a crossover of TADC and BATIM”

Yes it’s kinda like a crossover between the horror game(BATIM) and the show(TADC)

•”Can I draw these characters?”

Sure thing! Love seeing other peoples amazing art As long as you tag me about it cause I don’t tolerate others trying to steal art idea from anyone

•”Can I make an Oc\Fanart of this Au?”

Yes,I would love to see what other bendy vibes for Tadc you come up with for this Au heh

•”Can I write a fic about this Au”

If you got any other ideas of this Au,I would love to see what others like to create of it hehe that would be great ✨

•”Is NSFW allowed?”

Yeeeeaaaahhhhhh Nnnnooooooo thanks but noooo sorrry 😅

•”Is shipping allowed?”

Of course!but most of the ships will be showtime and Bunnydoll more often

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

(If you have any questions let me know just pls be nice cause I don’t tolerate rude behavior on here and I want to make sure others know that as well)

[flamingpudding]

Cassiopea and Orion #2

Previous Part

A/N: I probably shouldn't be thinking up so many different story lines. But my mind won't let me focuse on something else in peace unless I write these snippets and parts out. So here have another part XD I still have a whole Danny and Bruce backstory conversation in my head that I will probably write out at some point too.

"Really B, another one?" A red helmet wearing guy huffed the moment he spotted her, the little black haired blue eyed girl, sitting on a railing by a huge computer set up Ellie was sure Uncle Tuck would have drooled over.

She blinked at the new arrival before her eyes went over to the man. The one she had told that Phantom lost his haunt. When she had spoken these words the air around the man had changed. Before Ellie even really knew what was happening, the man had turned away from her, talking to the still tense boy before whisking the both of them away to a cave. The place she was now, and one after another more and more of the weirdly dressed people showed up. Each of them appeared to feel the need to comment on something, Ellie heavily believed to be an inside joke.

She let her eyes wander over all the arrivals, her fingers nervously drumming on the metal of the railing she was sitting on. Watching them carefully, despite what Danny had told her, she would bold at the first sight of danger from them. They didn't appear to have any ecto-weapons but that could be false impression. Like the GIW. They had appeared so incompetent only to do a 180 decades later.

"So what is going on? Is B printing adoption papers already?" The red and black one appeared to joke and Ellie tilted her head. There definitely was a insider joke she was not aware of. It would be weird to ask them about it wouldn't it? It would also be rude and tactless. Danny and Aunt Jazz had tried to teach her to not always blurt out every question that pops up in her head. Key words, not always.

"Why would the furry need adoption papers?"

She blinked at how a couple of the people broke out laughing while the kid, who had been watching her like a hawk, was now full on shooting daggers at her. She was pretty sure the kid would have thrown a literal one at her, but something as keeping them from doing so. She heard a grunt, and her eyes went back to the man that had brought her here.

"Not necessary." The man muttered as he turned to face them, clicking a key on the keyboard of the computer, and Ellie blinked as an image of Phantom popped up on screen. The people laughing appeared to quiet down now. "She already has a father."

"Mom." Ellie automatically corrected, shrugging when they looked at her. Before everything had gone to shits and Danny's capture, he had become quiet the mother hen, especially with Dan's and her de-aging. The constant mothering and worry about their well-being had caused Dan to joke that Danny was acting like a mother and she had continued to run with that joke. Even after they had to put Dan into a frozen state under Frostbites care in Far Frozen. The two had silently agreed on that Danny was their mom. The past didn't matter and she would honour their silent sibling agreement.

She didn't elaborate any further and they seemed to get that as they turned back to the man by the computer, putting their attention on that. Though she did noticed that the other kids eyes lingered on her longer.

"This is Phantom. A ghost hero stationed at Amity Park. Code: Rho, one of Cassiopea's dying stars." The man paused, and Ellie swore he had looked at her under his cowl. "And this girl's, Elliza Danielle Phantom Nightingale's, mother. Code: Jupiter, the wandering star."

"How do you know my full name?! Plus, my only recently added ones! They are like only a month old! And what about these weird Codes?" She blurred out wide-eyed, staring at the man in bat costume.

"Even if sparse Phantom and I stayed in contact using these codes." And Ellie narrowed her eyes at him. "Doesn't answer my question."

"Actually, B we would also like to know more." One of the onlookers, that's what Ellie decided they were for now, piped up.

Bat guy grunted, staring them down but not answering. The onlooker in blue sighed but Ellie wasn't giving in. She crossed her arms, keeping her balance by floating slightly on the railing.

"Look, you big bad bee, if you can't tell me that, then how am I supposed to trust you to help me, let alone the rescue of Da- Phantom!"

The onlookers snickered as she held her little staring contest with the big bad bee. Jokes on that guy she had held staring contests with Frighty before and he doesn't even remember how to blink at times.

"Phantom and I correspond about various topics since our teen years." The bat guy finally admitted. "One of which was about... our children."

Ellie blinked several times. Until her eyes widened in realization and she pointed an accusing finger at bat guy. "You're the one that kept calling Danny about parent advice! Like how he got me to go to online school and prevented me from sneaking out or how he handled Dan's anger tantrums!"

"Wait... B went to someone other than Agent A for parent advice?" The red and black onlooker questioned and Ellie shrugged. Danny had always been sort of parenting her since he was 16 and Dan once they learned he was aging lower and then the de-aging happened. She did remember that Danny got his first phone call about parent advice when he was around 24.

Now that Ellie thought about it. That was also around the time he took her aside to tell her about the emergency code.

"Which one of us do you guys think was the cause?"

"Wing."

"Hood."

"Demon Brat."

Ellie blinked once more, her attention turning back to the onlookers as thet started to argue among themselves. She tilted her head, watching them. Looks like she accidentally got them off topic. Though now she really wanted to get the story out of Danny once they rescued him. For years she had caught snippets of Danny's phone calls, to think that the guy on the other end was a armored spandex wearing furry. She couldn't wait to tell Dan about that.

Well, once their mom was saved and her brother stabilized again.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[foone]

You know what I hate about modern mice? how pointlessly anti-repair they are. I have had plenty of mice break over time, and often it's just that some fluff or skin-flakes got wedged in the mouse wheel or under the buttons. You just need to open them up and clean them. Except.. where are the screws?

OH THERE THEY ARE. under the little skid-pads, which cannot be put back on once you take them off, because the adhesive has been ruined! You have to buy replacement pads, if they're available, and maybe cut them down to size, as well as clean off the residue of the previous pads.

You know how this problem could be fixed? JUST DON'T PUT THE PADS ON TOP OF THE SCREWS!

Then you'd have no problem. Easy to disassemble and clean.

But then it'd look 5% uglier because apparently people are scared of seeing screws, and also people might not just throw it out and buy a new one!

It's the terrible sort of weird planned obsolescence that happens as an almost accidental side effect of improving the product. Like, ball mice? They were designed to be disassembled. You didn't even need a screwdriver! Because you had to clean them regularly, or they'd gunk up too fast. Modern optical mice? They still get gunked up, the buttons and wheel still die eventually. They can be cleaned and repaired. But now that it's not required for all of them to be cleaned regularly, that function has been removed. they're designed to be disposable.

The same thing happened with TVs way back when. If you open up a TV from the 50s (or just look at the back, honestly, many of them were designed to be always-open), you'll find a schematic showing where all the tubes are and what models they are. Was this because the 1950s was a golden era of reparability? NO! it's because they burnt out all the time and you had to replace them! As soon as TVs got reliable enough that replacing tubes was no longer needed, the schematics became hidden behind paywalls and for authorized-service-personnel-only.

It would be only a minor change in aesthetics to make your mouse repairable/cleanable. Hell, most of the time when it's not simply fixed by cleaning it, it's because one of these broke:

This is an Omron D2FC-F-7N microswitch, used in a bunch of mice. It's designed to last about a million clicks. With a soldering iron and some solder (like 25$ on amazon) you can trivially replace it. New switches cost between like 10 cents and 2 dollars, depending where you buy it and how many you want. A couple bucks of parts and half an hour's worth of work, you can repair a 40$ mouse that's "died".

But they make it unnecessarily hard with the slide-pads being unreplacable. You have to find ones that match, you have to carefully clean off the old residue with IPA, or the new ones you just bought will fall off. All to make it look SLIGHTLY better (how often are you looking at the aesthetics of the bottom of your mouse, exactly? (no furries are allowed to answer this question!)) and maybe, just maybe, to push it over into "not worth it". You could do all that, but you have to buy new switches, new slide-pads/mouse-feet (SHUT UP FURRIES), and can you remember where your solder even is? you last used it when you were trying to fix that keyboard...

Basically one thing that is maddening to anyone with the very basics of electronic knowledge (seriously: the amount of skill you need for this is the kind you can get in less than an hour from watching a youtube tutorial) that we're surrounded by all this electrical nonsense that will break and have to be thrown out, but is mostly breaking in ways that could be fixed in a very short amount of time with relatively little work.

It's infuriating to go on amazon to buy another damn mouse and it pop up "hey you last bought this in 2021, you fool" and you're like I KNOW, IT SHOULD STILL BE WORKING TODAY!

I have computer parts from the 80s in my room right now that are still working when stuff made in the last 5 years is already dying! There's no reason it should be this way. It's an endless waste of time and money and resources and it's just to make some logitech or whoever executives slightly richer.

It's deeply bullshit. The modern day is going to be identifiable as the geological layer where most of the trash was generated. We're living in the middle of the quisquiliarumferous period: the layer of garbage.

[techav]

On Multitasking

Sharing a Computer with Friends

The Motorola 68030 was a decently powerful microprocessor for its day. It is a fully 32-bit processor with 16 general-purpose registers, separate instruction & data caches, memory management unit, 18 addressing modes, over 100 instructions, pipelined architecture, and was available rated up to 50MHz. It was used in computers by Apple, Amiga, NeXT, Sun, Atari, and saw further life embedded in devices such as printers, oscilloscopes, and network switches. It was the kind of microprocessor used for desktop publishing, 3D CAD & animation, photo & video editing, etc.

In short, the 68030 is a microprocessor that can do some serious work. That's part of why I like it so much. It's a real workhorse chip but as far as 32-bit microprocessors go, it's dead simple to build with.

But running a single quick & simple BASIC program hardly seems like an adequate exercise for such a capable chip.

There is a prevailing claim that the 68000 architecture was heavily inspired by that of the PDP-11 or VAX minicomputers — powerhouses of the previous generation of computing. These machines ran entire businesses, at times servicing many simultaneous users. Surely the 68030 with similar capabilities but significantly faster instruction throughput than the decade-older machines would be more than capable of handling such a workload.

As I've mentioned before, one of my end goals for my 68030 projects is to run a proper operating system. Something like System V, BSD, or Linux; a true multi-user system befitting of the 68k's architectural heritage. My programming skills are limited, and getting such a complex project running is still outside my reach. But I am learning, and slowly inching myself closer to that goal.

Recently I built an expansion card for my Wrap030 project to add another four serial ports to it. In the context of the old minicomputers, another serial port means another terminal, which means the ability to serve one more user. My new 4-port serial card should give me the ability to add four new user terminals.

If only I had software capable of doing so.

Excluding symmetric multiprocessing and today's multi-core behemoths, supporting multiple user processes on a single computer processor means dividing time between them. The computer will run one user's program for a little while, then stop and run another user's program for a little while. Do this fast enough and neither user might ever notice that the computer is paying attention to someone else — especially since the computer spends much of its time just waiting for user input.

There are a few ways to accomplish this, but the simplest is to just make sure that every user program is written to cooperate with the others and periodically yield to the next user program ("Cooperative Multitasking"). A good time to do this is whenever the program needs to wait for input from the user or wait for a device to be ready to accept output.

Enhanced BASIC (68k EhBASIC), which I have been running on all of my 68k computer builds, was written in such a way that lends itself well to this sort of cooperative multitasking. It runs a tight loop when waiting for input or output, and while running a BASIC program, it stops at the end of each line to see if the user has pressed Ctrl-C to stop the program. This means that EhBASIC never goes too long without needing to check in with slow I/O devices. All that would needed is a simple kernel to set things up and switch to another user's processes whenever each time one of them is waiting for I/O.

So I set about creating such a minimal multi-user kernel. On startup, it initializes hardware, sets up some data tables for keeping track of what each user program is doing, loads BASIC into RAM, then starts running BASIC for that first user. Whenever a user process needs to read data from or write data to its terminal, it asks the kernel to handle that I/O task for it. The kernel will save the state of the user program to the data table it set up in the beginning, then switch to the next user to let it run until it too asks for assistance with an I/O task.

The kernel works through all user processes round-robin until it loops back around to the first user. After restoring the state of the user's process the kernel will service the I/O task that user process had originally requested, and return to let that user process run for a little while again. So all of the other user processes get their chance to run while one is waiting on data, and each process makes sure to allow the others a chance to run for a while when they are in the middle of running their own program.

I was able to throw together a quick proof of concept using the EASy68K simulator. What followed was days of catching all of the tiny mistakes I made, such as saving register A0 to the memory location reserved for register A1, overwriting the value previously saved for A1 and effectively losing both in the process — an error which resulted in BASIC printing only the first three characters of its startup header followed by a long string of null characters.

Debugging was tricky. I was starting from the bottom. No standard library, no existing structure or frameworks to rely on. The kernel process relied on the very same registers the user programs were using. Any changes to register contents by the kernel would affect the user processes. I ended up adding assembly macros to print short statements and register contents to the kernel console to try to get some insight into what was happening. I was able to track when registers came out of the user context save/restore process different than when they went in to find where I had bugs in that process.

This was a challenging project resulting in nearly a thousand lines of very low-level 68k assembly code, all of which I wrote and rewrote multiple times before figuring everything out. I've written small pieces of assembly code over the years, but none which required such deep dives into the CPU documentation to discern fine details of how the chip operates. I got there eventually though and now I have an 8MHz 68030 homebrew computer with 2MB of RAM that can run four BASIC programs simultaneously.

I'm going to need more terminals.

[hxney-lemcn]

Not so Long Distance — Idia Shroud x gn! reader

summery: with the seconds ticking down, everyone has a certain amount of time before they meet their soulmate, you just hope yours is your online crush.

tw: awkward encounters, reader isn't Yuu.

a/n: I'm in my Idia phase, help. Also, my first soulmate fic I'm proud of.

wc: 2.6k

Master List

The countdown on your wrist that had once been a beacon of hope and excitement slowly turned into one of doom. The idea of meeting your soulmate was terrifying yet exciting. Meeting someone that you fit perfectly with was mystifying, and the underlying fear of rejection scared you, but overall you would accept your soulmates wishes. But now? Something you never even thought of happened. 

You’re falling for someone you met online, but your timer is still ticking. 

With the internet still being new, and research into how it could affect the soulmate mark is still going on, you’re not sure if you should lose hope yet. For all you knew, the mark didn’t register when two people meet from separate distances…but you felt like you were coping with that explanation. You had met him online months ago, and every bad joke or insult towards a shitty player made you laugh, everytime he laughed at your bad jokes your stomach fluttered. It was embarrassing in a sense, you were falling for someone you hadn’t even seen yet. What if he was tricking you and he was some old man? But you doubted it, he sounded young and the way he talked was even outdoing modern slang. In fact, you even brought up this train of thought one day while you were on a call playing separate games. 

“Y’know, for all I know you’re some fifty year old guy,” You said in a joking tone, farming your crops in game.

“Hah?” Gloomuri, or Gloom as you’ve dubbed him, let out a noise of confusion. “Are you really that dumb?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean!” You huffed, accidentally hitting a plant that still needed to grow mature causing you a slight profit loss on your farm. “I just mean that I’ve never seen your face. Even though I know you, if I saw you on the street I’d never realize.”

The call fell silent for a few seconds, but to you it felt like minutes. You were propositioning something that felt like crossing a small boundary that was set. A video call. Something you were nervous about as well since that meant showing your own face. But IGloom had snuck his way into becoming one of your top, if not closest friend over the past few months. He’d drone on about some game drama you had almost no idea about, while he’d listen to your ‘normie’ drama (as he dubbed it) about school or friends. Although you’d say the best moments were when you’d both geek out over games or anime together, fighting on who the best character is and what your favorite part was. 

“Y-you wanna do a…video call?” Gloom hesitantly asked, you could hear the nerves in his tone which caused you to backtrack.

“We don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I’m not trying to pressure you,” You assured. “I’m just a bit curious. 

A few more seconds passed before he spoke up, voice even shakier than before, “Y-you’d show your f-face too…right?”

You fidgeted with your computer mouse, his nerves starting to get to you, “It’s only fair I suppose…” When you clicked on the call, unsure where this was going, you were surprised to see his camera on, but covered. “Wait, you mean right now?” You asked. 

“D-did you not mean right now?” He replied back, his voice an octave higher. 

“I-I just don’t…I’m not the most presentable,” You muttered back, looking at your reflection in the black of your phone screen. You pushed some of your hair back into place, fixing the collar of your sweater. Oh gosh, you were going to finally see what your crush looks like! 

“I don’t either,” Gloom mumbled, continuing to mumble something under his breath that you couldn’t make out. “N-never mind, never doing this-”

“W-wait!” You called out, turning your camera on as soon as you were out of sight. “I’ll do it, just don’t judge me too hard, okay?” Another few seconds before he meekly replied a small ‘ok’. “On the count of three. One…two…three.” 

Just like that, your breath got taken away. On the other side of the camera was a pale guy with blue flaming hair and…wait a minute…didn’t someone exactly like him go to your campus? You blinked at him with wide eyes, snapping out of your daze when he shied away from your gaze.

“Do I know you?” You asked dumbly, snapping Gloom out of his own daze. It was his turn to blink at you before he tilted his head. 

If he moved his hand away from the bottom of his face you’d notice a sharp smirk overtake his handsome features, “I’d hope so, we’ve been talking for how long?”

“That’s not what I meant,” You huffed once more that night. “You look like a guy that goes to my campus.”

“Really?” Gloom asked, unbelievably skeptical. “‘Cus not many people have blue flaming hair.”

You rolled your eyes, glad that convo was back to your playful banter, “I’ve never actually seen him. Only heard about him once from my irl friends. And yes, he was described as having fiery hair.”

“...Where do you go to school?” He asked, suddenly serious.

You gave him a skeptical look, “And why should I give you my current location? So you can stalk me?”

“I could find out in one click if I wanted,” He shrugged, amber eyes showing he was completely serious. 

“Thanks for not doxxing me I guess…” You grumbled, a bit put off. “I go to Night Raven College.” The silence was loud after that revolution before he broke it.

“I guess you do know me irl.”

That call had changed something in your friendship. The space between y’all had seemed to get smaller as you both grew more comfortable with one another, nearly having calls everyday. Now that you knew what eachother looked like, you’d have some video calls sprinkled in, and your raging crush seemed to only grow stronger. Now you had a pretty face to put to his lovely deep voice, and you wanted to strangle him for how attractive he was.

You now found yourself counting down the days till school started, and as you looked down at that damned timer on your wrist you found yourself hopeful again. You had fifteen days till school, and your soulmate timer was down to twenty days. You had been barely getting any sleep due to that, hoping that once you met Gloomuri, who you’ve come to know as Idia, the timer would hit zero. You both just clicked so well in a way you’ve never felt before, you just hoped he had the same numbers lining his own wrist. 

…

With how excited you were with meeting Idia, you found yourself getting quickly overwhelmed with school work. The professors didn’t hold back when it came to work, and contact between you and Idia had devolved from video calls into texts. It wasn’t until you woke up the first Saturday of the school year, looked down at your wrist and noticing the time had changed from days to hours. You nearly had a heart attack seeing it, all your anxiety mashing together at one moment. What if you just stayed in your dorm all day? But then that would mean your soulmate was someone in your dorm. But if you went out there was a high chance it wasn’t Idia. 

Before the dilemma could get to your head too much, your roommate asked if you wanted to tag along with them to Sam’s shop. Wanting to clear your mind a bit, you agreed, hoping to just ignore your problem instead of overthinking. You both ended up talking about classes, what you predicted you’d struggle in and do okay, who was in your classes and such. 

You had to hold yourself back from buying something, though you do have to give Sam props for having almost everything you could think of. All was good once more…until someone with a head of fiery blue hair walked in. It wasn’t Idia though, no, but someone who looked eerily similar if not quite a bit younger. Your friend noticed your attention left them, falling onto the young technomatic humanoid and decided to speak up.

“Hey Ortho,” They greeted him with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Hello!” He replied back quickly, “My morning is going well. How about you?”

“It’s been good,” They smiled. “This is my friend.” They introduced you, saying your name. To your surprise Ortho lit up, seemingly recognizing your name. 

“Really?” He asked. You hummed while nodding in agreement, heart skipping a beat. Peaking at your wrist you noticed the time was cut down to minutes. Was this it? Was Idia actually your soulmate? Your hope was reignited tenfold.

“My brother talks about you all the time!” Ortho exclaimed excitedly.

“Wait, you know Idia?” Your friend asks, astonished. “The shut-in who uses a tablet to attend class?”

“M-maybe,” You murmured bashfully, crossing your arms as a nervous habit.

“Are you free after this?” Ortho asked, nearly jumping up and down.

“Yeah,” Your friend spoke up before you could. “We just finished actually.”

“That’s great!” Ortho exclaimed, his eyes shining. You were sure if he didn’t have the bottom half of his face covered he’d be smiling widely. “You should come over to Ignihyde, I’m sure Idia would love it if you came to visit.”

“Okay.” 

It was out before you knew it, and like a whirlwind, you were suddenly swept to the front door of Idia’s dorm room, his little brother by your side. Before you could lift your hand up to knock, the door automatically slid open after Ortho’s face was scanned. You knew Ignihyde was known for its technical prowess…but this seemed like overkill. You stood outside awkwardly, unsure if you were allowed to step in yet, but you weren’t left to flounder for long as Ortho pulled you in by your hand. You glanced once more at your wrist and you nearly burst into tears. Only a few seconds left. A few seconds left until Idia was your confirmed soulmate and you suddenly didn’t feel as excited. Fear grasped your heart, unsure if he would be willing to be tied to you for the rest of your lives. You didn’t have much time to think of every terrible scenario as you faced the guy you had been fawning over. 

As Idia turned to greet Ortho (and grab some snacks), he found himself having a heart attack when he saw your face. He knew you both went to the same school, but he wasn’t prepared to see you face to face…not irl at least. He barely comprehended Ortho’s rambling, too busy trying to hide his visage from your sight. He wasn’t prepared for someone to visit, not to mention you. Everywhere he looked he saw a different mess that would surely disappoint you, dirty clothes that scattered the floor, empty ramen cups that lined his desk, and empty cans of energy drinks that filled his trash can…yeah not the best first impression. 

You, on the other hand, anxiously straighten your shirt while trying to not seem like you cared about your appearance too much. You were the first one to speak up after Ortho took his leave (seemingly ignorant of the tense atmosphere). 

“Hey,” You greeted, an awkward smile on your lips. Instead of replying, Idia merely gave a weak whimper as he pulled his hood as far as it would go over his head. “I-I’m sorry, Ortho invited me, and I have been wanting to meet you in person, I hope I’m not overstepping too much…” Then, he let out a sudden shriek, causing you to nearly fall over from how loud it was.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, scared he might’ve hurt himself somehow. 

“Th-the…y-your…I’m in a dream, this has to be. There’s no way this is real,” He muttered, holding his face in some sort of desperation. 

“Not a bad dream I hope…” You chuckled awkwardly, not sure what was going on. Not the cute meeting with your soulmate like you wished, you just hoped this wasn’t him violently rejecting you. Instead of replying, he let out another whimper, and you felt like you’re intruding in something you shouldn’t be. Your awkwardness meter being at its max, you decided you should take your exit and hope he calms down soon so you both can talk the situation out. 

“I’ll just…it was nice seeing you,” You stumbled over your words a bit. “I’ll let you uh…I’ll leave you to it…”

“W-wait!” Idia jolts up, eyes erratic. “You…w-we’re…” “Soulmates?” You supplemented. 

“Y-yeah…how are you so calm about it?”

“Would…would it be weird if I said I was hoping for you to be my soulmate?” You asked in a whisper, eyes darting around his room instead of meeting his own. Not like he’d be able to make eye contact with you either. 

Idia let out a squeak at your reply, his heart beating erratically. He found you too good to be true. You both liked similar games and anime, and when you didn’t play the same game you’d both play your own game while being on call. He found himself looking forward to your calls, something he would have never thought possible (he avoids calls like the plague). He found himself looking forward to something for once, finding solace in something that wasn’t fictional for once, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It was scary, but manageable when you were just pixels like everything else he loved (Ortho wasn’t technically pixels, but he wasn’t human (anymore) either). But now you were face to face in person, and you were so much more attractive when he could see you fully, and gosh he’s not sure how much more he could handle this. Especially not with such bold remarks like that. 

Idia never really cared about soulmates. If anything, he loathed the ink that marked his skin. Wished for the digits to just go away. His entire life was a curse, so cursed that he was forced to drag someone down with him. He didn’t deserve it, and no one else deserved his fate. And now, seeing you, a person outside of his family that he managed to grow close to…he felt conflicted. He too was happy you were his soulmate. You were so sweet, but not overly so. Not afraid to snap back at him with your quick wit. His heart would skip a beat when he heard the smile in your voice, or when you’d laugh at his lame joke. He would dream of a future with you when he closed his eyes, allowing him to envision a life with you and Ortho, living happily somewhere like normal people would. He was also guilty, you didn’t deserve a secluded life away from others.

“Yes,” He ended up answering. “That’s like…super weird.”

“Oh,” You felt disheartened. This was totally a rejection. 

“You shouldn’t like me,” Idia continued. “Someone like me doesn’t get that ending…”

“Hmm,” You hummed, an idea forming in your mind. Perhaps you just needed to speak his language. “I guess you got the secret good ending then.”

“B-but-”

“No buts,” You tutted. “Now, last time we talked you mentioned that game, why don’t we play it?”

It’ll take a lot of time for Idia to fully warm up to the idea of having a soulmate, truly. Not just some numbers, but an actual person who smiled at him so warmly, like he was worth something. It’ll take even more time for him to warm up to you, your love, your affection…but he found something small burning within him. Like a small spark being lit deep in his heart…hope. Hope for the future, something he’s never felt before.

[puppetmaster13u]

Hear Me Out

Yokai Amity. What are yokai? Japanese spirits. And not just ghosts, a majority of mythical creatures? Yokai.

So how did this happen? Well, like most things, it can be blamed on the ghost portal in the Fenton Basement. And a lot of ecto contamination. Because while they're a small city? They're also in the middle of nowhere, meaning a lot of their foods and crops, they grow themselves. And the ectoplasm? Started sinking into the ground first. Y'know, where every plant grows and then both humans and animals proceed to eat it? Made even worse when those like Overgrowth or Vortex came through? Yeaah, it'd be a miracle if they didn't get contaminated and no surprise that most don't notice their humanity slipping with time with how it's happening to everyone.

Which kind of makes the situation Danny has found himself kind of hilarious? At least to him. The trenchcoat dude seems to be having an aneurism or something similar.

"So... not a meta?" the tiny vigilante child clarified again, head tilting from where he stood at the head of his group. Honestly Danny was enjoying this from his place sprawled across the park bench Honestly Amity had spoiled him with benches designed for extra limbs.

The blonde man seemed absolutely done with everything, hands twitching as though about to cradle his head in his hands or grab something. "No," he wasn't shouting but it was close. "For fuck's sake- your all lucky not to be cursed or worse-" He turned towards Danny. "Why the fuck didn't you?"

The hainu shrugged, wings doing more of the motion than the rest of him. "They're babies-" Or at least one of them was, borderline liminal as they were. "You play along with toddlers." Honestly he saw why his old rogues found this fun, even if he'd never go as far as they did.

The entire team of vigilante children bristled, one opening their mouth to protest before trenchcoat-soul-dude glared at them all before turning back towards him.

"Though what the fuck do you need that for that you'd steal it- not that any artifact like that should be in a bloody museum and not locked away where idiots can't get to it."

He snorted, the sound more dog-like. Or really more yeti-like, what with how he was taking lessons from Frostbite which meant large chunks of time in the Far Frozen.

"Technically I don't need it, my kid does," Danny held up a finger, marveling slightly at the clouds. It was quite different compared to Amity, what with how everywhere was so ecto-infused that the sky was effected.

"And what does a hainu need with-" the trenchcoat man motioned to the cursed object, which honestly wasn't that bad. But...

"Oh no, he's not a hainu, he's furaribi." Danny honestly wasn't surprised that Jordan wouldn't turn out the same as he, de-aged or not. Not that he was memory-less or anything, cores didn't lose that easily, but he did still have the physical brain of a child.

"Adopted?"

"Nope," he hummed, going over the list of things he still had to do today before returning to Amity. Sam had asked him to get a few more flowers to test how ecto would effect them and he had to pick up some computer parts for Tuck.

"How the fuck."

"My sister's a kitsune, my other sister is a shirouneri, my mom is a shishi, my dad a baku, godfather's an itachi, my boyfriend a raiju, my girlfriend a kirin, and my other girlfriend a yosuzume," he ticked off his fingers, not seeing anything wrong with it. Not like people could get into Amity easily after the whole GIW thing.

"... what the fuck does your family tree look like, mate, because that should be bloody impossible."

Danny shrugged, giving a sharp toothed smile. Yeah, the realms didn't care about that with how malleable ecto was.

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(In case it's not clear: Hainu Danny, Furaribi Dan, Kitsune Jazz, Shirouneri Danny, Lion Dog Maddie, Baku Jack, Itachi Vlad, Raiju Tucker, Kirin Sam & Yosuzume Valerie) (Also feel free to come up with what everyone else might be) (Highly recommend yokai.com for a quick summary of each creature)