#a bit of that blind trust is gone

[ifellintothestyx]

Never forget when Shen Qiao cut a man's tendons, basically crippling him in one hand.

He could have cut off the arm or the hand itself to achieve the same effect. No, he cuts the tendons. This is even more chilling when you know that Xuandu Mt. also teaches medicine. Shen Qiao knows the human body so well he can cut out a man's tendons while in combat.

[insertdisc5]

TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!

hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.

some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have

Outer Wilds

If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT

[way more timeloop games under the cut]

Oxenfree

I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!

Hikeback

i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it

The Stanley Parable

Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

12 minutes

ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.

this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.

Zero Escape

it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!

START AGAIN: a prologue

this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)

Ghost Trick

ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it

Elsinore

im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet

The Forgotten City

a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game

Gnosia

Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…

Loop Hero

Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!

You and Me and Her: A Love Story

you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)

Higurashi

knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!

that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: some nsfw

♡ fem reader

Thinking about what a dumb party girl you are and the poor loser who's stuck tutoring you in all the classes you skip.

You were one of those people who believed everyone to be her friend. The type that went shopping a lot and hung at the mall more days than you bothered showing up to class – a bit of an airhead.

He’d call you a bimbo, but you’re not really known to sleep around – something about finding the right guy.

You opened the door with a smile, “Hi, welcome! Come in~” and pulled him inside by his arm. “I just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed – hope you don’t mind!”

You’re in pink from head to toe – a bit excessively, like you’d gone shopping in the little girl’s section, only… you don’t have a little girl’s body… and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.

“Doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.” He answers nonchalantly – as though he isn’t trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where it’s cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.

“Okay then~” You giggle, interlocking your fingers with his before turning around and leading him in.

His eyes go to the crease of your asscheeks as soon as you turn around, looking at where they peek out from under your bootie shorts – plump squeezable fat jiggling on every peppy step you took in your fluffy bunny slippers as you pull him into the private comfort of your room.

“My parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza – or whatever else you might want~”

You were all alone?

He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Don’t you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesn’t it cross your mind at all how you’d have to call the police if he decided he didn’t want to leave at the end of the night?

“Pizza’s good.”

You smile, plopping down on your bed. “Okay then, mister Tutor~” Everything in your room is pink as well. “What do you have in store for me?”

You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. You’re lucky he isn’t a bad guy.

“Where’s your books?”

You look a little puzzled for a moment – as though it was an unprompted question. “Right! Uhm…”

You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.

“Here.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Have you ever even opened them?”

You giggle again. “I’ve written my name on the inside like a good girl~”

He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat – feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.

“Well, it’s a pretty name.”

You look a little disappointed – or maybe it’s just in his head.

In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which he’d guess had never held any book other than a magazine.

He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And it’s odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you – but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious – if he’s showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.

He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesn’t smell like sweat – and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.

The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair – and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.

Then you say, “What?” as though his reaction surprised you. 

He stays silent – blinking once, then twice – mouth dry and out of words.

You slant your head to the side. “Don’t tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.”

You have a look on your face that makes him feel like begging.

Standing up, you stalk him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down on it with a heavy thud – still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him – rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch – making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.

“You really want this?” He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him – eyes wondering over that cute look of shock riddled all over his face.

You gave him a small catlike smile, bit your lip, and batted your coy doe-eyes down at him – running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didn’t want it.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu ♡ HxH – Feitan, Leorio

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[jjkamochoso]

Matchmaking Mina

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Your kind-hearted captain has taken it upon herself to stoke the flames of love between you and Soshiro!

Warnings: none

Captain Mina Ashiro may act aloof, but she wasn’t blind. Anyone in the Third Division could see that you and Soshiro were the perfect match for each other. If neither of you were going to make the first move, it was only right that she, as your trusted leader, guided you in the right direction. Only, of course, after assessing the situation to make sure you two really did like one another.

*Click*

Her phone captured a snapshot of you at lunch one day, laughing at something Kafka had said. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were creased with joy—you looked positively radiant. Mina made her way to Soshiro’s office, eager to begin her investigation.

“Captain,” Soshiro saluted, “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“Just stopping by. Checking on the status of your report from last week.”

“It’s almost done. I’ve been hard at work,” Soshiro grinned, sticking his pointer fingers out.

He’s in a pleasant mood. Let’s see if that changes.

“Good. I also came to show you a new picture of Bakko from the other day.”

It was a plausible excuse; Soshiro was a fan of cats as well and Mina was known for subjecting her friends and subordinates to monologues about how cute Bakko was. The vice captain was now standing by her side, peering over her shoulder at the phone in her hand.

“Here it is—oops! Wrong picture.”

Your picture was the one currently being displayed and from her peripheral vision, she saw Soshiro gulp ever so slightly, his eyes opened a bit wider. She was in no hurry, taking her time to slide her finger over the screen to the “correct” photo.

“Sorry about that. It was a cute photo, though, wasn’t it? Didn’t y/n look nice?”

“Huh? Yeah. I mean, sure,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears a rosy hue.

Now for the real test.

“I’d never seen her laugh so hard, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re around Kafka, right?”

There was an immediate shift of mood in the room, tension filling the open space like a dam had burst. Soshiro had gone from blushing to bloodthirsty in a millisecond and Mina was thankful she’d been blessed with a poker face or else she’d be bursting in laughter at his very apparent jealousy.

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I should finish this report.”

Soshiro saluted her again before sitting at his desk and Mina took her leave.

Well, that was informative.

Now she knew that Soshiro definitely harbored a crush for you and a hatred for Hibino. As she walked down the empty hallway, she let a small smile grace her lips.

She loved love.

Mina did the exact same experiment to you a few days later. As a fellow cat enthusiast, you were very excited at the prospect of seeing new Bakko content, quickly taking a seat next to your captain. This time around, she had managed to take an extremely flattering picture of Soshiro during training. He was standing outside, slightly flushed from the previous physical exertion, with one hand on his hip and the other pushing his hair out of his face.

Maybe if I ever retire I’ll become a photographer.

“…and there’s Bakko-oops. Not this.”

Your mouth was partially agape and she spied how you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the man on the screen. His tight fitting shirt hugged every curve of every muscle. His physique and pose were reminiscent of a model you’d see on a billboard in downtown Tokyo or on a runway in Paris.

“T-that’s a great picture you got of Vice Captain,” you breathed out in awe. “He looks so… hot.”

“If you’re into that sort of look, sure,” she answered.

“I definitely am,” you said dreamily, clearing your throat with embarrassment when you realized you said that out loud. “I mean, yeah. If someone was… hypothetically, like… into that sort of… thing.”

Mission 100% accomplished; they’re very much into each other.

Next up was the hard part of figuring out how to get confessions from the two of you without meddling too much. That’s why she was hoping today’s training, with you being partnered with Kafka, would be enough to stir up those same feelings and visceral reactions you both had while looking at the photos of each other not that long ago. So far, it was working splendidly. Kafka would say or do something ridiculous, causing you to howl with laughter and Soshiro to shoot Kafka a burning glare that could rival the intensity of a wildfire. Meanwhile, Soshiro would take his frustration out on the sparring training dummies, in turn leaving you dumbstruck at the way he moved so majestically and remained the most handsome man on earth, even in a state of sweaty exhaustion. When training was finally over, Mina couldn’t slow the buildup of anticipation deep inside her, eager to see the lovebirds admit their feelings, or at the very least, converse with each other. Neither of those things happened; you and Soshiro didn’t even exchange eye contact before going your separate ways.

Mina frowned. Didn’t she plant the seeds of attraction, water the foundations of a relationship, nurture the-

Looking back, I guess I didn’t do all that much.

“L/n.”

You turned around immediately at the sound of your captain’s voice, saluting as the dark haired woman approached you. You had just finished showering after a grueling day of exercise and were on your way to your room to get some much needed rest

“Come with me, please.”

“Right now?” you asked incredulously, eyes raking over the cat pajamas you were sporting. “Should I change into my uniform really quick?”

“No need,” she replied, “it’ll only be a moment:”

“Alright then.”

You were thoroughly confused but who were you to question your captain? You followed behind her dutifully, like a child following their mother to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk after a nightmare. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as she brought you into Soshiro’s office. He, too, had just showered, but he had changed into a fresh tracksuit, presumably because he never stopped working.

“Captain! What can I do for… you?” Soshiro faltered when he saw you peek out from behind Mina.

“I’m horribly underdressed for whatever’s happening. I sincerely apologize,” you said, bowing your head as to not meet his eyes. You weren’t that far below Soshiro’s rank, being a Platoon Leader, but you didn’t want your superior seeing you in such a state of disarray with your wet hair and casual attire in the office. Soshiro, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Y/n! I didn’t see you back there at first. I like your pajamas, cats are always a good choice.” His fanged smile brought you a sense of comfort,

“Thank you.”

You two would’ve gotten lost in each other’s eyes if it weren’t for Mina reminding you she was still there.

“Let me explain what’s going on. Y/n, Soshiro likes you. Soshiro, y/n likes you.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop from across the base. You and Soshiro broke eye contact at breakneck speed, becoming self conscious and wary.

Mina was confused. Weird. Aren’t they supposed to kiss or something, like how it happens in books?

“I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

Mina practically ran out of Soshiro’s office, getting hit with a whole slew of mixed emotions as she made her way to her own office. Was she wrong for getting involved in her subordinates’ love lives? Did she somehow misread the signals you both were giving off? Was her conclusion incorrect, leading her to be labeled a fool, unfit for a leadership position? She fretted all night thinking about the lack of response you and Soshiro had about the great news. The next morning, as she got ready, she thought of all the ways she could explain her behavior and hoped this situation wouldn’t lead to her getting fired (worst case scenario) or you and Soshiro feeling awkward around each other (bad case scenario). You two worked extremely well together, neutralizing kaiju with just glances and nods, no words needed, and she’d never forgive herself for ruining such a good team.

Mina fiddled with her jacket one last time before lifting her chin up and making the trek to her office to start the day. To her surprise, the door was ajar, you and Soshiro apparently waiting for her arrival.

Goodbye Third Division, hello HR…

“Captain,” you began, “Soshiro and I really appreciate what you were trying to do for us, but-”

“I overstepped my boundary,” she cut in. “I’m ashamed that I let my self control slip and I put my subordinates, the people in my care, in an uncomfortable position. I don’t know if I can ever regain your trust again, but I swear that I-”

“Captain.”

This time it was Soshiro who spoke out of turn. “My deepest apologies for interrupting you, but you don’t need to be sorry. Your intuition was correct—y/n and I do like each other.”

Mins could’ve cried tears of happiness hearing that, especially knowing that her job wasn’t at stake anymore, but her joy was turned to confusion when she noticed you and Soshiro share a glance, making a wordless agreement, and then both reaching into your shirts…?

She watched with curious eyes as a chain entered your grasp, previously hidden from view under your shirt, a small ring hanging down from it. Soshiro did the same, a matching ring gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It was then that the inquisitive, intelligent, intuitive captain made the connection—

“Soshiro and I are married,” you said, sheepishly glancing over at your husband. Now it was Mina’s turn to be deadly silent. However, you could tell she wasn’t upset, she was busy comprehending everything that was revealed to her.

“We didn’t tell anyone,” explained Soshiro, “because we didn’t want it to become an issue at work. In retrospect, we could’ve hidden it a bit better.”

He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “Though Kafka doesn’t ever seem to get the hint.”

“But we know we can trust you with our lives and we should’ve at least told you. I’m sorry for lying to you, Captain Ashiro,” you said, your head hanging low.

That’s when you heard the strangest sound.

Captain Mina Ashiro… was laughing?

“This was an interesting turn of events,” she eventually said, catching her breath. “It turns out I was correct, but not in the way I thought.”

She strutted over to her desk, sitting down and starting the computer. “If that’s all you had to report, then you’re dismissed. It’s time to go to work.”

She looked up one last time, quirking an eyebrow. “Or are you on your honeymoon?”

[annabelle--cane]

cause you see, at almost every major instance, martin does not trust jon. he trusts him to not be actively evil or a cold blooded killer, but he doesn't trust that jon will act in his own best interests. he expects that jon, if left on his own for long enough, will succumb to all of his worst vices and self-destructive impulses and drive himself to obliteration, which is why martin has to plan around him. and he's usually right! jon has consistent problems with moderation, a real propensity to hide anything that scares him or makes him feel ashamed, and a decades old survivor's guilt complex that leads him to feel uniquely culpable and expendable. but... chicken and egg, isn't it a bit? jon has long had all those problems, but it probably didn't help that everyone in his social circle (martin included) took his worst impulses as a given. it probably didn't help that he was indefinitely supposed to weather the dangers of freely giving trust without receiving any of the rewards of being trusted. yes, martin was, in a way, right that jon didn't end up blinding himself and quitting, but we'll never know if jon would have actually gone through with it had martin agreed to his proposition.

[jellicatty]

‧˚꒰ TRAFALGAR LAW FALLING IN LOVE ₊

╰┈➤ contains : trafalgar law x gender neutral reader. fluff. sfw. 908 words.

╰┈➤ note : he may be a bit ooc here huhu plz forgive me ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

— "You're interesting Y/N- ya"

• There’s only one thing you need in order to impress and catch the attention of Trafalgar Law: be smart. Body shape, body count, and looks do not matter to him. With intelligence alone, it’s easy to capture this man’s eyes.

• Once he’s attracted to you, expect to be showered with teasing remarks. Of course, not too many, just enough to make you flustered for the rest of the day. However, this does not mean he wants to be your significant other. Remember, this is Trafalgar Law we’re talking about. He wants to be sure if this is a feeling he wants to pursue.

• He knows the dangers of the New World and losing someone close all too well. So, I’m guessing he will never make a move (unless provoked by a near-death experience). Only stares from afar, small jokes here and there, and maybe some light touches too. It would be the end for him if you knew he was somehow attracted to you.

• You probably have to be friends before the whole ordeal happens. I can’t see Law falling in love at first sight or immediately after a few days. There has to be some deep trust and chemistry running between you.

— "This can’t be real."

• After some time, if his crush on you still hasn’t gone away, then he might consider thinking about it. Hard. Because there’s no way he, Trafalgar Law, could catch feelings for someone. He knew the day would come when he would eventually find someone and harbor feelings. But he didn’t expect it to be you, someone already dear to him.

• Well, he’s glad it was you. Since Law is a terrifying ex-warlord, supernova pirate, it would be extremely hard for him to have feelings for a civilian. Heck, he wouldn't even let himself, nor his crew, get close enough to a random person. It’s too risky.

• So he has feelings for you. Now what? He would be in full denial mode. He will deny it and will push you away. He’s angry and afraid of the connection blossoming between you two. Having lost so many people, from his own family and country to Corazon, his acknowledgment of his feelings would take a while. If he does stop pretending to be blind to his own emotions, a confession from him will be very unlikely. He’s taking this to his grave and no one can possibly know about it.

• His crew knows. Specifically, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. Bepo would for sure know about it first, then tell the other two about his assumption. Shachi and Penguin would quickly agree and start planning.

"Operation: get Law some game!"

• Law would be so annoyed if they knew because, first of all, only he has to know it. Second, what happens if you knew, huh? That aside, his advances towards you would be so awkward and… peculiar.

• Shachi and Penguin probably saw "Medical pick-up lines for your babe!" and gave it to Law.

• "Erythema is red. Cyanosis is blue. I get apneic when I see you!"

• Oh Law, please don't let them bring out the medical pick-up lines. He would handle the flirting himself but damn, why is it so hard now that he likes you? His smoothness is still there, but eye contact and your smile can easily break his cool.

• Speaking of your smile, Law is enchanted by it! Not only that, but by your eyes too. It doesn’t matter if the color is dark brown or blue, as long as he feels the sincerity and affection behind it, he would be head over heels. Imagine, Law getting flustered at your pretty eyes fluttering (*≧ω≦)

• He would be so soft for you and don’t take advantage of it. Just bring out your best puppy eyes and he will do anything for you (but you will hear a quiet grumble). His weakness is cute things, and if you’re someone with a face leaning on the cutesy side, then congratulations! You have Trafalgar Law wrapped around your finger. Joking, but it would really be such an advantage if you’re cute.

• Plus, he’s overprotective of you. Really, really protective. His possessiveness and protectiveness show whenever you’re in danger. Law would definitely not put you on the front lines when a battle happens. This is for your own safety, and he doesn't care if you hate him for it. He trusts your abilities, but there are enemies out of your league, especially in the New World.

• You nearly dying can push him to suddenly blurt out his feelings. It would be really random and subtle; you won’t even realize it at first. Him too, he would do it unintentionally since his emotions controlled his mouth.

• There are other ways he can confess; he would much prefer it if it was spontaneous though because thinking too much about it makes him nervous. However, he still plans ahead of time what to say to you. It wouldn’t be extravagant. Maybe a few simple words then he’s out. But...

— Words can’t describe what he’s feeling.

• No amount of words can truly convey the overwhelming emotion drowning his torn heart. He takes Y/N's hand in his and slowly moves it to where his heart resides. His heartbeat quickens with each passing second, his breath picking up pace while his eyes search theirs for the familiar beauty that entices him.

— "All of this… it’s because of you."

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[fumekara]

ALL THE THINGS I HAVE DONE (Final part)

SatoSugu x Gn reader 

Plot: Your relationship with the strongest sorcerers in Japan was falling apart after they yelled at you and broke your heart. 

n/a: English is not my first language, there will be a final part of this writing experiment, I am not very satisfied with how it came out. I know this is probably not the ending you were expecting. 

Tw: A lot of angst, fluff, comfort, mention of sex, polyamorous relationship, mention of the death of one's pet, the reader has a cat, in this version Geto is a sorcerer. 

If you are sensitive to mourning for your pets, do not interact with this fic. 

WC: 2K

Click here for part 1 part2

You woke up blinded by the sunlight filtering through your bedroom window. Your eyes were swollen and sore from crying the night before. You felt a lack at the side of your bed and realized that Satoru and Suguru were not with you. Still groggy from waking up, you sat up and turned your attention to the bedside table to your left to check what time it was. You noticed, however, a glass of water, a muffin and a note with a message written on it that you were sure were not there the night before. You take the note in your hand and immediately recognise Suguru's handwriting. 

We went out on an errand, we'll be back soon'.

Sighing, you brought the note to your face, as if trying to get something from it, like the warmth of the people who had cradled you and held you in their arms yesterday. 

You didn't know where they might have gone, but you wanted to be with them, wanting to understand at all costs what would become of you from now on. 

You had met the boys through Shoko, who was a close friend of yours in university days and had introduced you to her friends when you had all gone out together to celebrate your graduation. Although you were a bit shy at first and talked only to Shoko when you were sitting at a karaoke table, you managed to have a rather pleasant conversation with the two boys. 

As time went by, you became more and more friendly with each other and went out more and more often with Gojo and Geto, even when Shoko wasn't with you, you enjoyed their company, you liked the fact that Gojo and Geto were so different, but still managed to find their stability in being together. They soon grew fond of you and began to be more open with you, their trust in you had strengthened and they showed genuine happiness in being with you. As a result, you could not help but have feelings for them, which gradually grew as your friendship continued. 

You had become friends and remained friends even when Gojo and Geto got together. You knew it would happen sooner or later from the way they treated each other, plus you knew their history, since they had confided in you, during one of the evenings spent together watching movies, that they had been through a lot of bad times together. You were happy for them, really, but a part of you was unhappy that you could not be part of that unbreakable bond. 

At the time you were living together, after graduation you had decided to look for a flat in Tokyo to start your career, and since they had a spare room at home, they offered to put you up. 

You were sure you would only inconvenience the couple and didn't know what your life would be like knowing you were living under the same roof as them. You hadn't told anyone about your feelings for them, not even Shoko. They assured you that they would be happier to have you as a roommate and that you could never be a nuisance, since you were a close friend of theirs, and that they would never allow you to live in a dingy cheap flat until you finally settled down with your job. 

And so you did, you went to live with them and were relieved that they both agreed to let you take Nuko with you. Moreover, living with them was great from day one. When you got up in the morning, you would find Suguru in the kitchen preparing breakfast and greeting you with a 'Good morning love', showing you his beautiful smile as always. Gojo, who to tease you would put some items on the shelves and top shelves and then laugh when you got nervous with him because you couldn't reach them, and every time he would muss your hair with his hand when he returned it to you doing his usual cheeky grin. Sometimes you would fall asleep on the sofa with your legs tangled during movie nights, sometimes both of you and sometimes you would spend evenings sitting on the sofa late into the night talking about silly things, deep thoughts about the most existential questions or the doubts and fears that tormented you. 

Even when you managed to settle down in Tokyo and in your job you stayed living with them and they were fine with that.

Everything changed the day they asked you to become part of their relationship. They had both grown fond of you and, although at first you thought they had asked you in order to offer you a friendship with benefits, you realized that the more time passed, the more your triangular relationship turned into something absolutely wonderful. The months spent with them made you feel happy and fulfilled and you felt complete. 

But now what was left, what would become of you from now on?.

________

At noon it began to rain and meanwhile you were preparing lunch while waiting for Satoru and Suguru to return. As you boiled the rice, you turned your head towards the bowl still full from the day before yesterday that lay in the corner of the kitchen floor and once belonged to Nuko. You sighed sadly and went back to work, deciding to chop some vegetables. 

Suddenly you heard the sound of keys turning the lock of the front door: they were back. 

"Hey, Y/N, where are you?" you heard Satoru call out to you. "I'm in the kitchen," you replied, continuing to cut. 

Hearing their footsteps heading towards the kitchen, you decided to turn around and not look back. "I'm making saffron rice for lunch," you said not knowing what to do in that situation. 

You turned your head slightly for a moment and then returned to what you were doing. You saw them on the threshold of the kitchen door, both slightly wet and Satoru was holding something in his hand, although you saw it in passing without realizing what it was. 

You could feel their gazes on you and you were sure they wanted to talk about what had happened in the last two days and that perhaps it would lead to you breaking up. 

"Y/N can you come here for a moment?" asked Satoru in an extremely quiet and gentle way. "I'm cutting Toru here," you replied, hoping that would be enough to avoid talking to them until you heard them approaching further. "Y/N, please look," Suguru added in the same tone.

You heaved a sigh surrendering to what now seemed inevitable and turned toward them. 

What you saw left you speechless. 

Satoru was holding what appeared to be a kitten only a few months old lying in the sorcerer's arms. Both men looked at you with an expression of regret. 

You stood for a moment confused by the scene before you. You tried with all your might to say something, but nothing sensible came out of your mouth except a series of quivering babble. "Come here," Suguru told you softly, extending his hand for you to come closer. 

You slowly approached them to get a better look, and Satoru gave you the kitten so you could hold it. You heard him meowing and that seemed to awaken you from your trance-like state, and staring at him better you saw that he had Nuko's gray fur. You were so astonished that you did not notice that both men's eyes had glazed over with tears at your reaction to their gift.

"I don't understand...," you said in a trembling voice, "why you...I...I don't...." Unable to finish the sentence, you looked up at them feeling the tears flow down your cheeks. 

At this point they hugged you and exactly like you let the tears flow.

"Y/N we are so sorry, for everything, I mean it, forgive us," Gojo said rubbing his forehead with yours as he sobbed undaunted like you had never seen from him. "We didn't mean to say those things to you, you didn't deserve it and we were so stupid to let us talk to you like that, sorry, please forgive us, sorry." You looked into his eyes before he planted a series of kisses on your face wet with your tears. 

Suguru took your face in his large hands so that you could see him face to face, and you saw him completely destroyed by the situation you had put yourselves in. "We love you Y/N," he said, "We really love you and we are sorry to have made you feel so long." . Before you could say anything, he softly kissed your lips, letting you both drift away from the intensity of the emotions you were feeling at that moment. He pulled away from you as if to get some air, before returning to kiss your face as Satoru had done. 

"We don't want to lose you Y/N, you are the most precious thing we have."

Satoru turned your head and kissed you at the corners of your lips as he wiped away your tears in an attempt to comfort you and then went back to talking. "I know this won't be enough to make us forgive each other, but know that we have talked about it and we both agree that we are both in love with you and don't want to lose you and that we will do everything to get your forgiveness and make you feel loved as you deserve. Even if it takes a lifetime, we will make sure that neither of us will come back to make you feel as bad as we do these days. We want to love you as we love you right now." 

"Don't feel obligated after this Y/N, but..." both of them left you some space "please forgive us for everything. Give us a chance to let you know how sorry we are."

You continued to cry as Suguru rubbed a hand on your back to make you calm down and Satoru took the kitten from your hands and then placed it on the ground so as not to overwhelm you. 

"You... that's why you went out this morning," you sniffed, "but how?" and leaned down to pet the kitten who purred at your attention.

"Mrs. Momaru had mentioned to us some time ago that her cat had had kittens, and we went to her to ask if there were any left," Satoru told you as they both snuggled with you. You knew Mrs. Momaru; she was your neighbor, an elderly lady with a heart of gold. 

"We're sorry about what happened to Nuko, we were hoping she could lift your spirits," Suguru told you uncertainly, "I know she won't be able to replace him, but...." 

"I love her," you interrupted him and turned toward them. Now that you had calmed down, you were ready to say how you felt, "I love you guys and I want to be with you, but it will take time before I can forgive you completely," you said and they took your hands gently. 

"We understand Y/N," Suguru whispered, kissing your hand. 

"We will make sure you never feel this way again, we promise," Satoru said, as they wrapped you again in a loving, desperate embrace and for the first time in a long time you felt at peace. 

It might have taken time to forgive them, but there was still hope between you. 

Taglist: @qualitygiantshoepsychic @dark1paradise @mel1mak @tatahungry @aish777

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (ii)

SUMMARY: When Soldier Boy doesn’t return from Nicaragua, Vought creates a bullshit lie, talking him up as a hero who died in a devastating, world-saving accident. You’re handed down the mantle of leader as Payback, and spend your time trying to live up to how Ben had lead them, while also attempting to figure out what truly happened to him.

WORD COUNT: 2945

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Vought’s corrupt behaviour, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, death, gore, vomit, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, sexual content, smut; descriptions of sex.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Ben didn’t come home from Nicaragua.

Blown to pieces by some Russian laser weapon (what the fuck?), the.. chunky remnants of his body were taken away in a helicopter. Presumably to be experimented on.

It made you sick. Ben might’ve been an asshole, a deep rooted cunt, but he didn’t deserve to have his corpse be defiled like that. Maybe you’d just gone soft for him, that’s all. Maybe his hushed, sweet words and gentle touches, in his last few days, had softened your heart.

But you spent nights grieving your loss, hyperventilating in your room as you felt his fingers tracing your hips again. If you closed your eyes tight enough, you could see him.

You’d never planned for Ben to die. Hell, he hadn’t even planned to do. He was supposed to be ageless; a man who didn’t die. Vought would hide him away when it became suspicious, and he’d live peacefully… as peaceful as he could get, anyway. That was what was supposed to happen.

But his guts were strewn across the base camp in Nicaragua, and you’d never see him again.

It only took Vought three months to create a bullshit cover story.

After all, they couldn’t tell America their beloved Soldier Boy was actually at the site of a cocaine smuggling operation when he was blown to bits. No, that’d taint his image that Vought had spent literal decades moulding. He needed to die a hero. A man that would live gloriously in textbooks and stories.

A nuclear reactor meltdown is what they came up with.

Fucking bullshit, really.

The man was practically immortal (which did raise the question of, how the hell did the Russians kill him in the first place?). Some radiation wasn’t going to take him out. You’d watched him take two full magazines from an assault rifle, and get back to his feet like nothing happened.

And now he was dead. You didn’t know how. You wished more than ever that he’d let you accompany Payback on this godforsaken mission. Because you were utterly clueless as to what had gone down, and no one was answering your questions, tearing up whenever you mentioned the place.

You wanted — needed — to know how this was possible.

You knew Ben, better than anyone else on the team, even Crimson, who stood up on stage, talking about how good of a man Ben was.

Ben was a good man — to those he thought deserved to see that side of him. He was reserved and harsh and rude. And, yes, he was naturally an asshole. But, there was a part of him capable of respect and kindness and love. It was just stuffed deep within.

You’d been drawing it, slowly and carefully. You’d dug your hand in and grasped onto it, worming that side of him out of his heart with every night you’d spent cuddled into his chest. And he’d been warming. His touches had been gentler, his words softer, his eyes more admiring. You’d made him that. You were the only one he’d deemed worthy of his love and trust and respect.

Crimson had never seen that side of him. She’d never even come close to opening him up, seeing who he truly was.

As she talked fake stories of their blinding romance, about how he was such an incredible boyfriend, you just rolled your eyes in the audience. The only time Ben spent with Crimson outside of the public eye was when he was balls deep inside of her. And, even then, he liked to say she was a terrible fuck.

He also liked to say you were a good fuck. It was his favourite compliment; as funny was that was. As he railed you against his mattress, his hands keeping you firmly where he wanted you, he muttered praises.

That was different to the Ben the other women got. He’d degrade them: call them every name under the sun as he practically broke their pelvises. With you, sure, he was rough, but he complimented you; whispering and grunting softly, making sure you felt pretty and loved as he violently fucked you into unconsciousness.

And he always made sure you were okay afterwards. Ben giving aftercare was not something you’d expected, but he was damn good at making you feel safe and secure. He was a man of many talents.

The country was honouring him, as you begged for any kind of rational answer from Payback, from Edgar, from Vought. You were close to falling to your knees and pleading. But they didn’t care. Too busy basking in the boost of popularity that came from Ben’s death.

So, they upped their game.

And, when Vought erected a statue of Ben outside of Vought Tower, you threw up in the bathroom. The night you were named the new leader of Payback, you threw up again.

Apparently, it’s what Ben wanted. Which was bullshit. He wanted you in his kitchen with a dinner plate (lovingly, he’d told you that night. How could something like that be a compliment? You didn’t know, but it was Ben, so you guessed it was possible). But, you couldn’t fight it. So, nearly exactly three months after the last night you saw him, you took his place.

It felt wrong, and disrespectful, and you were lost and out of place. You had no knowledge on how to lead a team of asshole supes, that didn’t respect you or really like you that much.

Ben did this so easily. He lead Payback like a natural born leader. You lead like a baby giraffe learning to walk.

But you did it anyway.

“Soldier Boy was a national icon.” You held the microphone with shaking hands, willing them to stop, staring out at the gathering of civilians. It was wrong; America was mourning a death they’d all been lied to about. You swallowed your bile and pushed on. “And I am honoured to be taking his place as the leader of our brave and dedicated superhero team, Payback. I will be leading in his image, and his honour, and I hope that my work would make him proud.”

It was all bullshit.

You hadn’t written a word of this shit.

Edgar had shoved it into your hands and pointed you onto the stage. No warning. No cooperation. No opinion. Just… here you go, now go put on a show.

But, the audience was eating it up, and Edgar and your PA were giving you a thumbs up from backstage. They liked your performance. Ben, however, would be gagging in his mouth hearing this. He’d probably mock you, and claim you’d be better off just blowing his dick. He’d be right. Every word that was coming out of your mouth was corporate propaganda.

Your hands curled tighter around the microphones, knuckles whitening. You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be home, as far away from Vought and these grieving people as fast as possible. “Soldier Boy was a respected, beloved hero, within your hearts, and Vought’s.” God, what cliche, sappy horseshit. “He was a good man, who lost his life saving millions.” You held back your scoff. “Vought will forever live in his shadow. We ask that you give us time and space to grieve our loss. Thank you.”

The audience applauded, loud and roaring, as you walked off stage.

The rage bubbling up in your chest was ready to burst, overflowing. This was all fucking sickening. No one was telling you anything. And they expected you to get on stage and do these speeches? To sit, cry and look pretty as you grieved the mighty Soldier Boy?

Fuck that. You were going to get answers.

There was some dark shit happening behind the scenes, and it had Vought’s grubby handprints all over it. The cover story. Payback’s silence. Edgar’s lack of care. None of it was adding up.

The moment the audience could no longer see it, your mouth curled to a scowl, heels clicking as you stormed up to Edgar. You were going to get answers, even if you had to physically get them. You’d find out what happened to Ben in Nicaragua, even if it cost you your head.

Stan Edgar, despite knowing he was now on the receiving end of your anger, stood tall. Cocky bastard. You could kill him with ease. But, of course, he didn’t care. There was only one person you’d ever seen Edgar cower from — Ben. To be fair with the guy, though, anyone would cower if Soldier Boy was screaming at you, inches from your face.

“What is going on?” Despite your rage, you kept your voice to a low hiss, not wanting to attract attention to your anger and frustration. “Can someone fucking explain to me, what is happening?” He began to walk away, and you followed. your words still flying out. “Why am I taking Ben’s place? How did he even die? You were in Nicaragua — what happened? Why did it take you so long to come up with that shitty reactor meltdown story?”

He turned to face you. You abruptly stopped, almost smashing into his chest with the suddenness of it, taking a stumbling step backwards. “I understand you’re upset.” You rolled your eyes at his professional tone, hands linked behind his back. Typical. “But I cannot answer those questions.”

“No, I deserve to know” You demanded. It was a losing battle, and you already knew that, but it doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try your hardest. “What. Happened?”

You weren’t getting an answer from Edgar. And that became clear when he turned his back to you, engaging in a conversation with his secretary, and leaving you in the dust. Glaring at the back of his head, you muttered obscenities.

If you weren’t getting it from Edgar’s lips, you’d get it another way.

Namely, breaking into his office that evening.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Now, you weren’t a seasoned criminal, but Ben had taught you a thing or two. He was, very much, a criminal, and knew things you were never too curious to ask about. Like picking locks. Which was the most normal of his odd knowledge. (The fact that man has known the recipe to make a bomb was… terrifying.)

Picking a lock wasn’t in your expertise, but you remembered enough from what he’d shown you. Enough to kneel down in front of Edgar’s office door, and use a bobby pin to turn the lock until it clicked.

You grinned, internally thanking Ben for his… strange teaching techniques. Glancing down the hallway, both ways, you ensured it was empty; that no one was about to see you going against every rule in the book. Once it was cleared, you slipped inside the door with practiced ease, and shut the door behind you.

The sun was setting over the horizon — the golden hour hue lighting up the room enough for you to make your way over to Edgar’s shelves. You were determined to find something. Anything.

Something was going on. Something sketchier than Vought’s usual dirty work. And you were going to figure it out.

Your index finger skimmed the folders, peeking at the names. Until you found Ben’s — a cream folder with ‘SOLDIER BOY’ written across the front. Pulling it out, your eyes locked onto the bright red ‘DECEASED’ stamped under his name, your heart squeezing.

Swallowing thickly, uncertain, you flipped it open. Reasons over the contents, your eyes narrowed in concentration and then narrowed further in frustration.

It was nothing you didn’t already know. His past. The human trial experiment. Comp V. Ben had already told you all of this.

You glared at the deceased marker on the front of it, and then slid the folder back into the right spot. Alphabetical order, you noticed. You continued flicking through the files, trying to find something that could be labelled as suspicious.

Your ears perked at the sound of sudden buzzing from across the room. Like a dog to a squeaky toy, you rushed over, watching a piece of paper print out of the fax machine.

You snatched it up the moment it came out.

BCL-RED was the title word.

What the fuck was that?

You’d never heard of it before. It had to be an acronym, but your mind came up blank, as you racked it for any familiarity. Cursing internally, you scowled — damn fucking code words.

Before you could read ahead, a voice floated into the office from outside.

“Shit.” You hissed under your breath, suddenly very panicked. Returning the paper to the machine, you dashed for the door, poking your head out just enough to peek down the hall. You spotted Edgar just a ways down, facing away from you, talking to Black Noir. Quickly and silently, with expertise learnt on the field, you crept out of the office, taking off down the hallway in the opposite direction.

All the way back to your room, you muttered the words to yourself.

BCL-RED.

… BCL-RED.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

It wasn’t in any folders documents anywhere. Not even your PA knew what a BCL-RED was.

You felt like a dog chasing its tail. Going in circles, trying to find any clues as to what happened to Ben. Every day your suspicions rose. Something wasn’t right. Edgar was having hushed conversations. Payback was having meetings that excluded you.

Your trail lead you to Grace Mallory.

The young woman handed you a cup of coffee, hands scarred and calloused from her days at war. Quietly, you thanked her, sat comfortably on her sofa, cradling the coffee. “I have to respect your strength. Putting up with Soldier Boy every day.”

You cracked a smile, sipping the steaming coffee. “He was a… acquired taste.” Your laugh was breathy and quiet, thinking back to Ben and his unique personality. “What happened in Nicaragua?”

Grace sighed as she settled back. She was pretty. No doubt Ben tried to get in her pants while he was there. “It happened quickly.” Your brows furrowed, sitting forward, elbows on your knees. “We were ambushed. Your team couldn’t find their guns from their asses.”

“Sounds about right.” You murmured. “I told Ben he needed me out there. The stubborn dick wouldn’t listen. Looks like it bit him in the ass, eh?”

“Big time.” Grace agreed. “There was an explosion. It knocked me out.” You listened attentively, frequently sipping the coffee. “When I came to… your team were in ruins. Half of ‘em were dead, the other half injured.”

You chewed your lips for a few beats. “Black Noir still hasn’t recovered. Doctors said he’ll never be able to talk again.”

Solemn, she nodded. “Not surprised. His face was more hole than it was skin.” You grimaced at the imagery. “Crimson Countess told me Soldier Boy was dead. He’d been killed by some… laser, his body taken by a helicopter.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

You sat back. “Huh.” You murmured. “She’s lying.” You decided. The story wasn’t right. Sure, it was feasible, under different circumstances. But, in battle? When Ben was on his A-game? No way.

Grace looked confused. After all, why would Crimson lie about something like that?

You didn’t know.

But you were going to fucking find out.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

That night, you didn’t return to your room. Instead, you slipped into Ben’s in the dead of night. It hadn’t been touched since he left for Nicaragua. Since he’d railed you against the mattress and left you bed-bound for two days.

The air was musty, with dust covering each surface. Crawling onto the bed, you tugged open the curtains, letting sunlight in for the first time in months.

Every surface was covered in dust. And there were still drugs laid about. Half snorted lines of cocaine on the coffee table. Empty pill bottles decorating the floor. An ash tray that reeked of marijuana. God, this man had been like a teenage boy.

Flicking on the light, you gathered your bravery, and spent a few hours cleaning his room up. You didn’t know why. Maybe you wanted to feel closer to him. Feel like you were doing something for him. Ben hated it when things were messy. And he loved it when you cleaned up after him. You hated feeding into that old, sexist mindset he had.

But, god, you’d do anything right now to hear him demand you fetch him a drink.

After you cleaned his room, you stripped his sheets, gagging at the old stain. Definitely your cum. And his. Gross. You stuffed it into a basket, kicking it away from you.

Okay… remember to not touch that again without gloves.

As you finished the last, final touches, a glint of metal on his bedside table caught your attention. Curious, you padded over, expecting a pistol.

Instead, you found a chain.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Delicately, you placed the necklace in the palm of your hand, brushing your thumb over the metal surface.

His WW2 dog tags.

Swallowing thickly, you blinked back your emotion. Why the fuck were even so sad? You weren’t even dating the man. Sure, you’d been his friend for years. You’d been protecting him. He’d been protecting you. You’d been his right-hand man practically.

But, still!

With a lump in your throat, you carefully placed the dog tags over your head. The dog tags were cold against your chest. You tucked them under your shirt, inhaling shakily.

With one last look around the room, you turned around and walked out, with a basket of laundry balanced on your hip.

You weren’t going to rest until you found out the truth. That was for sure.

A/N: sorry for the lack of soldier boy in this chap :( he makes his grand return next chapter !!! in all his sexist glory lmao. he’s so fun to write, tho i do feel like a horrible person writing some of the shit he says. definitely fun to explore this universe and all its fucked up possibilities. thank you guys for the support on chap one :’) <3 next chap will also be longer promise

banners in use by @cafekitsune

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity @mostlymarvelgirl @aaronhotchnerlover @delaynew @let-me-luve-you @yvonneeeee @livsh20 @thej2report @lostin-jensenseyes

[bbystark]

chimichanga tuesday

deadpool x stark!reader

summary: reader finds herself slightly jealous over Vanessa and Wade's previous relationship. based on this request

a/n: mdni. requests are open! i did not proofread whoops but enjoy! requests are open btw ;)

When Wade first brought up the idea of bringing you to his Chimichanga Tuesdays at Blind Al’s, you were over the moon. This was a big step for you guys and the relationship you had yet to put a title on. He had excitedly started listing the names of everyone that would be there, Colossus, Negasonic “whateverthefuck”, Blind Al, Vanessa- a wave of nausea went through you when he said her name. You weren’t the jealous type, you really weren’t, but the dude put himself through death-defying torture to live for this woman. It was hard not to feel threatened. Besides, who the fuck stays friends with an ex? It blew your mind. 

You knew about their entire history, Wade had told you a few months into hooking up. He didn’t seem to have any secrecy surrounding it, even going as far as to delve into their very active sex life (you had to tell him to shut up when he got to “a pegging christmas”). However, your own fear of his answers kept you from asking the most important one: did he still love her? Would he leave you if she decided she wanted him back? You felt so stupid. You were a Stark for God's sake, your ego should be untouchable. But alas, you actually strongly liked Wade. You were starting to head into that place where just thinking about him brought a stupid love-sick smile to your face. 

So yeah. You were a little jealous of Vannessa, and tonight was Chimichanga Tuesday. You were fucked. Both metaphorically and literally, being on your third Dirty Shirley within the hour. You were waiting for Wade to pick you up from your apartment, growing more and more nervous as time went on. You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the front door rattle, Wade bursting in with a stapler in hand. “Hey hot stuff! Sorry about the blood. Was running late to see your tight little ass and had to staple the toupee on the bus. Bumpy ride.” He makes his way over to you, tossing the stapler to the side and pulling you into a hug. “Hi Wade.” You melt into him. “When are you going to let me buy you lace glue for that thing?” You poke at a staple and he winces, grabbing your wrist gently. 

“Hey, the staples are very economically friendly. Not everyone has a disgustingly handsome father to inherit billions from.” He smiles at you, glancing around your apartment and seeing the large bottle of vodka sitting in the middle of your kitchen island. “Woah thirsty girl! You getting the party started already?” 

You suddenly feel ashamed, like a teen who got caught with a beer. “I’ve only had one.” He gives you a look. “Okay three!” He turns to the side and rolls his eyes to his imaginary audience. “We’re lucky she didn’t bring out the tequila. She gets real mean.” You shove him a little bit. “That was one time! It’s not that hard to say excuse me.” “Oh, I’m not mad sugarcakes. Watching you threaten to disembowel someone twice your size really got little Deadpool going. I am slightly concerned though. Broody and depressed alcoholics run in your family. What’s going on in that brain?” 

You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find a response. You consider lying, but suddenly you feel a little light and stupid thanks to your last drink and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

“Do you still love Vannessa?” 

Wade freezes, a little shocked by the question. He’s silent for longer than he’s ever been and you’re scared you’ve gone too far. You’re about to apologize and take your words back  when he puts his finger over your lips and says “Give me two seconds for a dramatic flashback and careful introspection that will eventually lead to important character development.” You give him a strange look and he sighs. “Trust me, it’s very important to our plot.” 

Wade thinks really hard. He still loves Vannessa in his own fucked up way but he wasn’t in love with her anymore. He knew she still loved him too, but in the same way an owner can’t hate a pet that constantly bites them. Except Wade was a pet who got cancer and abandoned her, not to mention put her life on the line on multiple occasions (although to his credit, he did save her and the entire timeline). But to put it simply, somehow the two most fucked up people had the healthiest breakup ever. 

Even given the chance, Wade knows he wouldn’t go back to Vannessa because it could never be the same. Wade used to painfully long for his past before seeing a motivational poster that said “keep chugging along” with a creepy looking animated train. Then it really clicked for him. Vannessa wasn’t his happy ending, even though she had given him many in the past. If he had chosen to stay with her instead of being a lab rat for Francis St. Fuck, she would have been. But is dying of cancer and leaving the woman you love alone for the rest of her life a happy ending? He realized that if he kept looking to the past, he would forget that he had created his own weird little family, even if it wasn’t what he originally planned. He would also forget that he has a smoking hot girl in front of him that he’s quickly growing more attached to. 

Wade has been quiet and staring directly at a wall for a long time, and it’s starting to really freak you out. “Wade..?” You try gently. He snaps out of it, shaking his head and laughing a little. “Jeez these flashbacks just keep getting longer and longer, like hello that’s what sequels are for.” You stay silent, looking at him expectantly. “Oh right!” He moves closer to you, taking your hands in his.

“Yes. Yes I do still love Vannessa.” your heart drops, and you quickly pull your hands from his. 

“What the fuck Wade?” 

“No! Wait let me finish, I do still love her, but not like I did. She used to be my everything, the only reason I lived and then later, the reason I tried killing myself but that’s beside the point- what I’m trying to say is that she’s my past. And I get us still being friends is like, totally not the norm but I promise there’s nothing there anymore. I just, care about her I guess. But I don’t want to keep letting my past get in the way of things that are happening now.” He looks you in the eye for the last part, and you almost tear up at the sight of The Wade Wilson being serious for once, and to you of all people. You take a few seconds before replying. 

“I know she’s a huge part of your very unconventional life, and I don’t want to get all psycho and say that I don’t want you to see her because really, I truly don’t mind. Just kind of had a jealous monster take over for a second. I’m sorry.” You give him a shy smile. 

“Hey, I’m just surprised you still haven’t realized you’re fucking an avacado’s abortion. That’s a win in my book.” You both laugh and you take his face in your hands gently, smiling. You don’t really have much to say, you still feel silly, even more so that he’s essentially calmed all your insecurities. So you just stare at him, the drinks in your system letting your fingers dance across his face, just taking all of him in. Wade can’t handle it. 

“I think I like you.” He blurts out. He cringes, he can’t believe he just confessed like a middle schooler. “Bad Deadpool.” he whispers to himself. 

You laugh and then bring his face to yours for a clumsy kiss. “I think I like you too. Avocado abortion face and all.” You kiss him again, slower this time, trying to avoid the staples poking out of his scalp when you place your hand on his neck. He pulls away slowly, eyes still closed. “Good Deadpool.”

[russo-woso]

Kim Little angsty but happy end 🙏🫶🏻

Calm down || Kim Little x reader

Warning argument

Summary Kim brings her anger back home after a violent match

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I don’t get it. We played shit, I played shit. And you, you getting a red did not help. It was pointless Y/N, Leah had it covered anyway, you shouldn’t have done a tackle like that. You were stupid.” Kim shouted, throwing her bags on the floor as you walked inside.

I’m guessing everyone wants a bit of backstory, huh?

Arsenal had just played Chelsea at a packed out Stamford Bridge.

The game had been rough to start with. Arsenal conceded early on in the game but somehow managed to equalise minutes later.

The game continued and Arsenal became sloppier and sloppier.

No big game changers occurred until the 80th minute.

Aggie Beever-Jones had a ball played through to her, you and Leah the only ones in front.

Using your initiative, you slide tackled into her, the edge of your boots touching the ball, but as soon as the ref blew her whistle and reached for her pocket, you knew you were done.

You fought back, telling her you got the ball but she was too stubborn.

You left the pitch in tears, too angry to notice the disapproval and anger on Kim’s face.

“I got the ball, Kim, I swear! I got the ball, the ref was too blind to see it.” You shouted back, Kim’s face red with anger.

“You wouldn’t have gotten a red if you did.”

“I’m leaving. I’ll spend the night with Katie and Caitlin. You’re taking the refs side instead of your own wife. Night, Kim.”

Without another word, you stormed out the house, jumping in the car and speeding to Katie and Caitlin’s house.

They welcomed you in with open arms, understanding why you had come to their house.

You had gone up to the spare bedroom immediately, not wanting them to see the tears in your eyes.

Your phone was buzzing with messages from Kim, begging you to come home. You ignored every single one though.

Which lead to Kim making her way to Katie and Caitlin’s house.

Kim managed to watch the replay of the foul, noticing how your foot did in fact clearly get a touch of the ball first.

She stopped at the shop on the way there, buying your favourite flowers and chocolates.

“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” Katie shouted from downstairs.

You made your way down the stairs, seeing Kim’s face in the door.

“What do you want?” You asked, still mad at her.

Kim brought the chocolates and flowers out from behind her back.

“I’m sorry, love. I should have believed you, I don’t know why I didn’t trust you. Please come home.”

“Kim…”

“I know, I’m sorry I shouted, I’m sorry I got angry. I promise, I’ll never get angry about a game again.” Kim said, guilt in her voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, please can we go home. It’s freezing out here.” Kim joked, beginning to laugh but was cut off with your lips on hers.

“Come on then.” You laughed, dragging her to the car.

“Y/N?” Katie asked, walking into the hallway to see the door wide open but you no where to be seen. “Y/N? Kim? Well, they made up quickly.”

[married-to-google-translater]

can i ask yandere gojo (and other if you want) with a female reader who escaped and disguised as a man for be hiding of gojo

(She will cut her hair and other méthod for prétend to be a guy..)

Yandere Mahito

Mahito "lived" with you.

(He had broken into your home without permission and refused to leave.)

Because of this, Mahito noticed REALLY quickly when you were gone.

He would start looking for you right away.

However, it wouldn't be that easy.

It would take time, but Mahito would find you.

He wouldn't be blind and notice how much your appearance had changed.

You would make Mahito excited.

However, that was probably the last thing you wanted in this situation.

Mahito wanted to hear EVERYTHING.

He wanted to learn how you were able to change your body so radically.

Would you like the body better this way?

Mahito would have no problem making the changes permanent.

He doesn't realize that he himself is the problem and not your appearance.

Mahito wouldn't trust you anymore after this.

You'd be trapped in the drain.

If you tried to escape again it would be r.i.p your leg.

Yandere Satoru Gojo

You were never a jujutsu scorer.

This would be the only reason Gojo would have a bit of a hard time locating you.

You may not have known it, but this would be something you could use to your advantage.

Actually, this would be the only reason why your little escape company will succeed.

All of this would happen in the early stages of a "relationship".

Gojo wouldn't have kidnapped you yet…

However, the red flags would be clearly visible.

Gojo wouldn't be happy about your little disappearing trick.

He would definitely look for you tirelessly.

Gojo would turn all of Japan around if he had to.

It was only a matter of time before you got caught.

Gojo wouldn't have time to pay attention to your radical change.

He was in a hurry to marry you.

After that, you could never escape him.

Once Gojo had calmed down, he would find your change in appearance amusing.

You are so cute when you think you can escape him ;3

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP │03

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

➪ WC; 1.9k

✎ series masterlist

3. ANGER

▔▔▔▔▔▔

It had been a little over a week since Jungkook broke up with you and moved out of what you thought was your forever home with him. You didn’t know what you were doing or how you were still getting through the days, but what you did know was that you weren’t coping at all.

It felt as if you were standing in the middle of a maze, each of your emotions spread out in different directions and you didn’t know where to go. Your mind was smogged, and the emotions trapped within you were suffocating.

But a big part of you was angry. You were angry at yourself.

For ten years, you had poured every bit of yourself into the relationship. You had believed in its longevity, in the idea that you would grow old together, that your love was the kind that could weather any storm.

But now, as you stared blankly at the wall, you wondered how you could’ve been so blind. The signs were there, yet you stayed oblivious to them.

The anger felt hot and bitter, like bile rising in your throat, suffocating you in its intensity.

You couldn’t stop replaying every moment of your relationship in your mind, every fight, every make-up, every quiet evening spent together, trying to pinpoint where things had gone wrong, and how you hadn’t seen this coming.

But it wasn’t just the loss that stung.

It was the overwhelming sense of failure. You had invested a decade of your life into this relationship, built your dreams and your future around it, and now, it felt like all of it had crumbled into a pile of ashes.

You were angry that you hadn’t confronted him about all the signs earlier, angry that you had allowed yourself to become so dependent on him. And most of all, you were angry that you couldn’t stop yourself from loving him even now.

The days that passed without him, your anger only grew more complex, folding in on itself, becoming more about your perceived flaws and inadequacies.

You began to blame yourself for everything — for not being enough, for not doing enough, for not saying the right things. Every memory became a weapon you used against yourself, cutting deeper and deeper into your self-worth.

You had given so much of yourself to the relationship that now, without it, you felt hollow, like a shell of the person you used to be.

You started questioning everything: your choices, your priorities, your value as a person.

You were haunted by the idea that you had wasted ten years of your life, that you had somehow failed at something you should have been able to hold onto.

This anger at yourself was not just for losing him, but for losing yourself in the process.

At night, when you were alone with your thoughts, the anger turned inward in a more destructive way. You couldn’t help but wonder if she had been too blind, too trusting, too naive.

Had you ignored the red flags? Had you clung too tightly to a relationship that was doomed to fail? The self-doubt nagged at you, and you couldn’t escape the feeling that this breakup was entirely your fault.

You were mad at yourself for not having the courage to question him for all those times he hadn’t been acting himself. Those times where he would push you away. Or those times where he simply didn’t have time for you anymore.

You were mad at yourself for not demanding more respect, and for not standing up for yourself.

You felt weak for allowing yourself to be hurt, and even weaker for still caring about him despite everything. The anger made you want to lash out, but there was no one to lash out at except yourself.

And yet, beneath the anger, there was a deep well of sadness, of grief for what could have been, for the future you both had planned together.

But you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that yet.

The anger was easier to deal with, more straightforward. It gave you a focus, something to hold onto, even if it was destructive. It kept the overwhelming pain at bay, at least for a while.

In the quiet moments, when the anger subsided just a little, you were left with the terrifying realisation that you didn’t know who you were without him.

The life you had known, the identity you had built around being with him, was gone. And that was perhaps the most frightening thing of all.

You were angry because you didn’t know how to start over, how to rebuild your life from the ground up without him.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone buzzed on the nightstand beside your bed. You sniffled and wiped away the tears that had spilled onto your cheeks.

Your hand trembled as you reached for the phone, hoping against hope that it was a message from him, that he had changed his mind, that he still loved you.

But it wasn’t him. It was Taehee, your best friend.

You hoped it wasn’t another sympathetic message. You weren’t ready for more pity, or any more reminders that everyone knew your life had just fallen apart.

You unlocked the phone and stared at the screen, and your heart pounded at the first text she had sent.

▍HeeHee🩷: listen I know my vision is not the greatest even with my thick ass glasses on, BUT TELL ME THIS IS NOT WHO I THINK IT IS?!

▍HeeHee🩷: *image*

You tapped on the image, and it filled the screen.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you took it in: it was a picture of two hands, intertwined.

One was unmistakably masculine, with strong, familiar fingers. The other was delicate, adorned with a diamond ring that sparkled with a brilliance that seemed almost cruel in the moment.

It wasn’t just any ring; it was the kind of ring you had often daydreamed about — simple yet elegant, the kind that cost more than you could ever afford.

Your eyes widened as you recognised the hands, especially the man’s hand.

Could it be?

Your heart plummeted, a cold dread settling in your chest as you stared at the photo. You knew those hands — you had held them countless times, felt their warmth against your own.

Jungkook.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you gasping, trying to comprehend what this meant.

How?

How could he have moved on so quickly? And with someone else?

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it, but all you felt was a suffocating sense of betrayal.

Your hand flew to clamp your mouth as you tried to control your sobs. The pain in your chest intensified as you stared at the ring on the other woman’s finger.

It wasn’t just the possibility that he had moved on that hurt — it was the realisation that everything you thought you knew about him, about your relationship, was a lie.

How could he have been planning this while still with you? Or had he checked out long before the breakup, leaving you clinging to a ghost?

Your phone kept buzzing, and you knew Taehee was trying to reach out to you to make sure you were okay.

But you weren’t. Of course you weren’t.

The man you’ve been together with for ten years walked out of your life a week ago and was now engaged to another woman.

How could you be okay?

But then, just as quickly, the sadness was replaced by a fierce, burning anger. You weren’t sad anymore; you were furious.

How could he move on so quickly?

How could he do this to you, and have the nerve to say that he still wanted to remain as friends?

After everything you both had been through, after everything you had sacrificed, he was already with someone else, already putting a ring on another woman’s finger.

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, your breaths coming faster as the anger took over. The tears dried on your cheeks, replaced by a tight, painful knot in your throat.

Your fingers tightened around the phone, your knuckles turning white. You didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or cry or throw the phone across the room.

It hadn’t even been a full week, and here he was, putting a ring on another woman when it should’ve been you.

You stared at the photo again, and your jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt.

The girl’s hand, it looked paler and slimmer than yours — the kind of skin tone you wished you had to be more appealing though Jungkook said he loved you and everything about you no matter what.

You felt a pang of jealousy. But it was quickly swallowed by the rage.

You didn’t know who you were angrier at — him for moving on so easily, or yourself for still being stuck in this emotional hell.

But it would make sense to be more angry at yourself. You had let this happen. You had been too trusting, too forgiving, too in love to see the signs. Now, you were left picking up the pieces of a life you thought you would have forever.

You closed the message and tossed the phone onto the bed. You stood up and began to pace the room, trying to calm yourself down, but it was no use.

Every time you would close your eyes, you saw his face, picturing him smiling and happy with another woman in the future you had both planned, and it drove you mad. The anger was suffocating, consuming your every thought, leaving no room for anything else.

How could he do this to you? you thought over and over again, your mind a broken record of anger and pain.

You wanted to confront him, scream at him, bang on his chest to revive the love he once had for you. But you knew you couldn’t do that. You didn’t have the courage to.

Eventually, the storm of emotions became too much to bear. You collapsed back onto the bed as you began to breathe heavily. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal — they all merged into one overwhelming tide, and you felt yourself beginning to crumble.

The tears that you swore evaporated from you began to break free, and they came streaming down your face in an uncontrollable flood.

You laid down on your side and curled up into a tight ball as you wept.

You cried for the loss of the life you had visioned with him, for the years you had spent together that now seemed wasted, for the love you had given that he had so easily discarded.

You cried for the girl in the photo who had taken your place and for the girl you used to be before all of this — before you became a heartbroken shell of yourself.

You cried until there were no more tears left, until your body was exhausted and your mind was numb.

And when the tears finally stopped, you lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, your heart aching in a way you didn’t think it ever could.

You were empty, drained of all emotion, but beneath the emptiness, there was still that faint ember of anger, smoldering quietly in the depths of your soul.

You weren’t sure how you would move on from this, or how you would ever trust or love again.

You were lost in the sea with no sense of direction.

You just didn't know what to do.

NEXT ➜

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ CHEMTRAILS OVER THE COUNTRY CLUB ♡·˚

— [♡] ; When you're facing the fallout of a forbidden romance with Toji, he comes back to pick up the pieces ｡°. fushiguro toji

tags: dad's best friend, fem!reader, forbidden romance, angst, healing, second chances, age gap, a bit ooc toji but not too much!

wc. 5.3k

Toji Fushiguro was back in town after three long years. You could still remember the day he left, a cool spring morning, the sun just breaking through the clouds as your father embraced him, clapping his back like old times. You were younger then, eyes wide with admiration, secretly hoping he would look at you differently one day. But he never did. Not until now.

When Toji first returned, you felt a pull in your chest, a desire you couldn’t shake off. He was different—broader, rougher around the edges, yet those same eyes lingered on you a little longer now. It didn’t take long for the first stolen kiss. It was late, just outside your father’s house, and you could barely breathe as his hands cupped your face, his lips crashing into yours like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Every touch since had been electric—secret, urgent, dripping with the tension of everything that could go wrong.

But it had to stay hidden. Your father trusted Toji like a brother, had been talking about his return for weeks, thrilled to finally have his best friend back. And all the while, you and Toji exchanged knowing looks, hands brushing in the hallway when no one was watching, a shared understanding that this thing between you was becoming impossible to ignore.

It all came to a head the night of the party. The house was packed with family and friends, laughter ringing out, music playing in the background. You had spent the evening avoiding Toji, knowing that even a glance would betray what was going on between you. But as the night wore on, you found yourself outside in the quiet, leaning against the railing of the porch. That’s when Toji came out, his eyes dark and full of the same need you felt.

"We shouldn’t," he whispered, but his lips found yours anyway, desperate and hungry. His hand trailed down your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you, only the heat of his body and the thrill of the risk.

But neither of you had heard your father step out behind you.

"What the hell is going on here?"

His voice was ice, and you froze, the blood draining from your face as you pushed Toji away. But it was too late.

Your father’s face twisted in rage as he charged at Toji, fists swinging with an anger you had never seen before. Toji didn’t fight back. He didn’t even raise his hands to defend himself, just took the blows as if he deserved every single one. His jaw was clenched, eyes flicking toward you even as your father’s fist collided with his face again.

"Stop it!" you screamed, tears spilling down your cheeks. "Dad, stop!"

But your father wasn’t listening, his anger blinded by betrayal. You were trembling, unable to breathe as you watched Toji take hit after hit, blood streaking down his face. He never struck back, only stood there, shoulders tense with guilt, eyes filled with something between regret and longing.

"Get out of here," your father finally spat, stepping back, his chest heaving as he pointed toward the street. "Get the hell out of here, and don’t come near my daughter again."

Toji glanced at you one last time, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. He just turned and walked away, blood dripping onto the pavement, his broad back disappearing into the night.

You stood there, sobbing, fury bubbling up inside you. "How could you do that?" you shouted at your father, voice breaking. "You don’t get to decide who I care about!"

"Care about?" he barked back. "That man—he's been seducing you behind my back!"

You shook your head, tears falling harder now. "I wanted it. You don’t understand, Dad. I—"

"I don’t want to hear it." He cut you off, his voice hard but broken. "He’s gone, and that’s the end of it."

But it wasn’t the end for you. It couldn’t be. Not with the way Toji had made you feel, not with the way you had needed him. The night stretched on, the echoes of your father’s anger fading as you stared down the street, hoping that somehow, Toji would come back.

But deep down, you knew he wouldn’t.

The house felt hollow after that night. The laughter and noise from the party had long since faded, leaving only a tense, uncomfortable quiet that weighed on you like a suffocating blanket. You had locked yourself in your room, the door shut so tightly that even the world outside felt distant. The darkness of the room was soothing in its isolation, a retreat from everything that had shattered in a single moment.

You couldn’t face your father. Not after the fight, not after what he had done to Toji. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Toji walking away, blood dripping from his lip, his eyes so full of guilt that it tore something deep inside you. And your father’s voice, still ringing in your ears—his anger, his betrayal. How could he understand?

Days passed, and you barely noticed. You hadn’t left your room, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t even showered. The world outside had become a distant memory, reduced to the muffled sounds of your father moving through the house or the occasional knock on your door that you ignored.

"Please," his voice would come through the door, softer than you’d ever heard it. "Just come out and eat something."

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The ache in your chest was too much, a heavy emptiness that spread through your limbs, making it hard to move, hard to breathe. The bed had become your only refuge, the sheets tangled around you as you curled into yourself, trying to find warmth in the coldness of everything that had happened.

You missed him. More than you could admit, more than you thought possible. The memory of his touch lingered on your skin, the way his lips had felt against yours, the way his hands had held you like you were something precious, something he needed. But it was gone now. All of it. And all because your father couldn’t understand.

A soft knock came at the door again. You ignored it, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

"I’m sorry," your father’s voice came through, barely audible. "I shouldn’t have done what I did. Please, just talk to me."

But you stayed silent, tears slipping down your cheeks as you buried your face in the pillow. Talking wouldn’t change anything. Nothing could change what had already been broken.

You heard him sigh on the other side of the door before the sound of his footsteps retreated, leaving you alone again in the quiet. The loneliness felt like it was sinking into your bones, but you welcomed it. It was better than facing the reality outside that door, better than pretending everything could go back to normal.

Time passed in a blur, and the exhaustion that clung to you was overwhelming. You didn’t care that you hadn’t eaten in days, that your hair was a tangled mess, or that the air in your room had grown stale. None of it mattered anymore. Not without Toji.

The days bled into each other, the walls of your room feeling like they were closing in. Your body ached from lying in bed for so long, but the weight of everything made it impossible to move. The darkness had become your constant companion, the silence your only comfort. Each breath felt like an effort, as if you were trapped under the heaviness of your own thoughts.

Your nails, once long and neatly kept, were bitten down to jagged edges. You hadn’t even realized you were doing it at first, but now the skin around them was raw and red, angry welts forming from the constant gnawing. Each bite was a small release, a way to keep your mind from spiraling further into the pit of despair that had taken root inside you. The pain was grounding, but it didn’t last. Nothing did.

You barely noticed the footsteps outside your door anymore, the occasional knocks blending into the background noise of your misery. Your father had stopped trying to get you to come out days ago, though you could still hear him sometimes, pacing outside your room or talking quietly to himself. His presence was more of a ghostly figure now, a reminder of the fracture between you that neither of you seemed capable of mending.

You stared at your hands, the torn nails a stark reminder of how far you had fallen. Each broken piece felt like a reflection of what was happening inside you—destroyed, unraveled, unable to be fixed. The thought of Toji walking away, bloodied and silent, haunted you. He hadn’t looked back, hadn’t fought for you. And that was what hurt the most.

Another knock on the door. You didn’t respond, just like you hadn’t for the past few days. But this time, there was something different in the air, a tension you hadn’t felt before.

"Someone’s here to see you," your father’s voice came, hoarse, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

You stayed quiet, too drained to even muster the energy to refuse.

There was a brief silence, then a heavier knock. "It’s me."

Toji’s voice cut through the fog in your mind like a blade, sharp and unexpected. Your heart lurched, the pain in your chest flaring up all over again. You thought you had wanted to hear from him, to see him, but now, with him just on the other side of the door, it felt like too much. It felt like opening a wound you hadn’t even begun to heal.

But still, you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

"Please, just… just talk to me," Toji said, his voice low, almost pleading. "Your dad… he’s worried about you. Hell, I’m worried about you."

The tears were already forming in your eyes, the overwhelming emotion making it hard to breathe. You bit down on your already torn nails again, feeling the sting of the raw skin as the tears slipped down your face. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to stay away. That’s what you had resigned yourself to—his absence.

"Come on," he pressed gently. "At least let me in for a minute."

You didn’t want to let him in. You didn’t want to face him, to confront the mess that had been made, the shattered pieces of what you thought might have been something real. But the sound of his voice was too much, too familiar. Your hand moved on its own, reaching for the door handle, your body trembling as you slowly twisted it open.

Toji stood there, tall and silent, his eyes soft with concern as he looked down at you. His hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes casual, like he had just come from his own place, but it was the weariness in his face that hit you the hardest. He looked just as broken as you felt.

Your father stood a few steps behind him, watching with an anxious expression, but he didn’t say anything. He just gave a small nod to Toji before walking away, leaving the two of you in the tense silence of the hallway.

Toji took a step forward, his gaze flicking down to your hands. His expression tightened when he saw the state of your nails, the angry red skin that lined your fingertips. "You’ve been…"

You pulled your hands back instinctively, hiding them behind your back. "I’m fine," you whispered, but your voice cracked, betraying the lie.

Toji’s face softened even more, and without saying anything, he stepped into your room, closing the door behind him. The room felt even smaller now with him in it, his presence overwhelming in a way that made your heart race. But it wasn’t just that—it was the way he was looking at you, as if you were fragile, as if you might break at any moment.

"You don’t look fine," he murmured, his voice deep and quiet. He reached out, his hand gently brushing the side of your face, his thumb grazing the corner of your lip in a gesture that was achingly tender.

Your breath hitched, the tears coming harder now. "Why did you come?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Because I couldn’t stay away," he said, his voice full of the guilt that had been hanging between the two of you. "And because you need to hear this from me—I’m sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you."

Toji stood in the dim light of your room, taking in the state of everything. It wasn’t just you that had fallen apart; your surroundings mirrored the chaos inside you. Clothes were scattered on the floor, books and papers tossed haphazardly across your desk, and your bed was a mess of tangled sheets. It looked like a battlefield of emotion, each item a casualty of the war waging inside your heart.

He swallowed hard, his chest tight as he looked at you. You were curled up in the corner of your bed, still clutching your hands as if hiding the raw, bitten skin would make the hurt go away. Your eyes, red and tired, avoided his, staring blankly at the floor.

Toji sighed softly, stepping closer. He wanted to fix this, to fix you, but he knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as cleaning a room or brushing your hair. This was deeper, more painful. But he could start with the small things, with the things he could control.

"Let me help," he said quietly, his voice a low rumble in the quiet of the room.

You didn’t respond at first, your body still tense, shoulders curled inward as if you were trying to shield yourself from the world. But after a moment, you gave a small nod, the smallest sign of trust. Toji took it, knowing it was more than he deserved.

He crouched down in front of you, carefully taking your hands in his. His touch was gentle, his fingers brushing over the raw, irritated skin around your nails. "You shouldn’t have done this to yourself," he murmured, his voice soft, almost scolding, but filled with concern.

You glanced at your hands, shame flickering in your eyes, but Toji shook his head. "It's alright," he reassured, giving your hand a small squeeze before letting go. "Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?"

Toji stood and started moving around the room. It wasn’t in his nature to fuss over anyone, but for you, he did. He picked up the clothes scattered on the floor, folding them with rough, but careful hands. He straightened the books on your desk, pushed your chair back into place, and even tossed a few forgotten wrappers into the trash. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference. Slowly, your room began to look less like a disaster and more like a place where you could start healing.

You watched him the entire time, your gaze softening as he worked. There was something almost surreal about watching Toji—someone so strong and untouchable—doing something as simple as folding your clothes. It was comforting, in a way, seeing him take care of the little things when you couldn’t find the strength to.

Once the room was back in some semblance of order, Toji turned back to you, his eyes landing on your hair. It was tangled, knotted from days of neglect, falling in disarray around your shoulders.

"You need to brush that out," he said, a hint of his usual gruffness returning.

When you didn’t move, still staring down at the sheets, Toji hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, grabbing the brush that sat on your nightstand. He wasn’t exactly the type to play hairdresser, but he could see how much you were struggling, how much you needed someone to take care of you, even in the smallest ways.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, positioning himself behind you, the brush in his hand. "Hold still," he muttered, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing this.

You sat frozen for a moment, unsure, but as the brush began moving through your hair, gently tugging at the tangles, you found yourself relaxing. Toji’s movements were slow and careful, as if he was afraid to hurt you. He worked through the knots with surprising patience, never once pulling too hard.

The rhythm of the brush moving through your hair became soothing, a small distraction from the storm inside your mind. Toji was silent the entire time, but his presence was comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. It was as if he knew that words weren’t what you needed right now, that just being there, helping you in these small ways, was enough.

After a while, your hair was smooth again, the tangles gone. Toji set the brush aside, his hand lingering for a moment as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so unlike him, that it made your heart ache.

"You look better," he said quietly, his voice low and rough. "More like yourself."

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his for the first time in what felt like days. There was something in his gaze, something soft and unspoken, that made the weight in your chest lift just a little.

Toji stood up, stepping back from the bed and taking a deep breath. "Come on," he said, his voice returning to its usual firmness. "Your dad’s been worried sick about you. Let’s go talk to him."

You hesitated, the thought of facing your father making your stomach twist. You weren’t sure you were ready to deal with everything that had happened, but Toji’s steady presence made it feel a little less daunting. He wouldn’t leave you to face it alone.

Toji walked over to the door, pausing as he looked back at you. "You don’t have to say much," he said, his tone softer again. "Just… let him see you. Let him know you’re okay."

You took a deep breath, pushing yourself up from the bed. Your legs were shaky, weak from days of inactivity, but you managed to stand. Toji stayed close, his presence solid, grounding you as you moved toward the door.

With one last glance around the now-neat room, you followed him out, the weight on your shoulders just a little lighter. You weren’t sure what would happen next, but with Toji by your side, it felt like maybe, just maybe, you could start to put yourself back together.

The walk down the hallway felt longer than it ever had before. The quiet hum of the house seemed heavier, as if the very air was weighed down by the tension that had built up since that awful night. Each step you took felt unsteady, not just from the days you’d spent locked in your room but from the weight of what awaited you at the end.

Toji walked beside you, his hand hovering near your lower back, close enough to feel his presence, but not quite touching. He was giving you space, but you knew he was there—steady, solid, ready to intervene if things got too rough.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you saw your father sitting at the dining table. He was hunched over, his hands clasped tightly together in front of him, his knuckles white. His eyes were red and tired, deep circles etched beneath them. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and you realized, with a sharp pang of guilt, that he probably hadn’t.

The moment he saw you, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His eyes widened in a mix of surprise and relief, but there was something else there too—something darker, deeper, that made your stomach twist.

“Thank God,” he breathed, his voice strained, almost breaking. He took a step forward, but then hesitated, his eyes flicking to Toji before returning to you. “I didn’t… I didn’t know if you’d come out.”

You stood there, frozen, not sure what to say or how to feel. Part of you wanted to rush into his arms, to let him hold you and tell you everything would be okay. But another part, the part that had festered in your room for days, was still so angry—at him, at the situation, at everything. He had been the one to drive Toji away, to shatter everything, and you weren’t sure if you could forgive that just yet.

Toji, sensing your hesitation, cleared his throat softly. “She’s alright,” he said, his voice low but firm, cutting through the silence like a blade. “She just needed some time.”

Your father’s eyes flickered between the two of you, the tension thickening in the room. He was still trying to process everything, still grappling with the reality of what had happened between you and Toji.

“I’m sorry,” your father said suddenly, his voice cracking with emotion. He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but… seeing the two of you like that…” He trailed off, his gaze shifting to Toji with a mix of resentment and guilt. “I just—he’s my best friend. I never expected…”

Toji stepped forward, his expression hardening. "I didn’t handle it right either," he admitted, his deep voice unwavering, but with a hint of regret. "It’s on me too. I should’ve—” He paused, glancing at you before continuing, “I should’ve thought about what this would do to her. To you."

Your father let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. He looked older than you remembered, worn down by the weight of what had transpired. “I was scared,” he confessed, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t know how to handle it. Seeing my daughter and my best friend... it just felt like everything was falling apart.”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. The anger that had once burned inside of you was still there, but it was softer now, dulled by the exhaustion of the past few days. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. “But it wasn’t just Toji’s fault. I wanted it too. I—”

Your father raised a hand, cutting you off. “I know,” he said, his voice strained with emotion. “I know it wasn’t just him. I just… I can’t help but feel like I failed you somehow. Like I should have protected you from all of this.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected him to blame himself. It made the knot in your chest tighten, the ache in your heart grow sharper.

Toji, standing beside you, crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he was holding himself back, trying not to escalate things.

“I don’t need protecting,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I’m not a child anymore. I’m... I’m sorry that this hurt you, Dad. But it’s my life. My choice.”

Your father’s eyes softened, his anger seeming to melt away as he took in your words. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It was clear that he was struggling, that part of him wanted to argue, to fight, but another part—the part that loved you—was beginning to understand.

“I just want you to be safe,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to be happy.”

Toji glanced at you, his eyes dark and unreadable, but there was something in his expression that told you he felt the same way. He hadn’t wanted this to end in chaos, in broken families and shattered trust. But it had happened, and now the pieces had to be put back together.

“I know,” you replied, your voice gentle but firm. “But I need to make my own choices, even if they’re not the ones you would have wanted for me.”

Your father nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I just… don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you promised, stepping closer to him. “But I need you to trust me.”

The silence stretched between you all, heavy but no longer suffocating. It was a fragile peace, but it was a start. Your father exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping as he accepted the reality of the situation.

Toji shifted beside you, finally speaking up. “I’ll leave, if that’s what she wants,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “If it’s better for her.”

Your father looked between the two of you, his jaw tight. He was torn—torn between his desire to protect you and the knowledge that you had already made your choice.

But when he finally spoke, it wasn’t anger or rejection that filled his words. It was resignation. “I don’t want to lose either of you,” he muttered, rubbing his hand across his face again. “But this... this isn’t easy for me.”

Toji nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “We’ll figure it out.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a sense of unity in the room. It wasn’t perfect, and there was still so much left unsaid, but it was a step forward. You felt a strange sense of relief, like the weight that had been pressing down on your chest for days was finally starting to lift.

“Alright,” your father said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”

It had been a few days since that tense confrontation, and though things weren’t exactly back to normal, the weight between you, your father, and Toji had begun to lift. The house felt quieter, more at ease. You had started to heal, both physically and emotionally, though the scars from the fight still lingered.

This evening, though, there was something different. You stood in front of your mirror, brushing the last few knots from your hair as you prepared to leave the house for the first time in days. The thought of spending time outside, with Toji, no less, brought a flutter of nervous excitement to your chest, something you hadn’t felt in a while.

Your father stood in the doorway of your room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He didn’t say much as he watched you, but you could feel his presence. He had been quiet ever since that night, his protective instinct still there, but softened by his understanding that things had changed. That you were making your own choices now.

“You sure about this?” he asked after a few moments of silence, his voice low and careful, as if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

You turned to face him, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “Yeah,” you said softly, smoothing down the fabric of your shirt. “I think I am.”

Your father’s brow furrowed, and he sighed, stepping into the room. “I know you’ve made your decision, but…” He hesitated, glancing toward the hallway where you knew Toji was waiting downstairs, likely awkwardly shifting on the couch, unsure of his place in this delicate balance. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will,” you assured him, turning to fully face him now. “I know things aren’t… perfect yet. But I’m trying to move forward. I think we both are.”

Your father nodded, running a hand through his hair in that familiar way he always did when he was anxious. “He’s waiting downstairs,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s still weird, you know. Seeing him here, after everything.”

You smiled faintly, stepping closer to your dad and wrapping your arms around him. He stiffened at first, but then relaxed, his arms coming up to hold you gently. “Thank you,” you whispered, pressing your cheek against his chest. “For giving us a chance.”

He let out a shaky breath, patting your back gently. “Just… don’t let him screw this up.”

You laughed softly, pulling back to look at him. “I won’t let him,” you said, your voice more confident now. “And if he does, you’ll be the first to know.”

With a final nod from your father, you grabbed your bag and headed down the hallway, your heart racing as you neared the stairs. You could already feel the tension in the air, the awkwardness that had settled between Toji and your father still palpable, even if neither of them acknowledged it outright.

As you descended the stairs, you spotted Toji sitting on the edge of the couch, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he stared at the floor. He looked uncomfortable in a way that was rare for him—like he wasn’t sure if he should be here, or if he was overstepping his bounds just by waiting for you.

When he saw you, though, his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You ready?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, as if he was trying not to disturb the fragile peace that had settled in the house.

You nodded, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you at the sight of him. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Toji stood, towering over you like he always did, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He was still rough around the edges, still the man who could take down anyone in a fight without blinking, but there was something more vulnerable about him now. Something you knew he had only begun to show because of you.

As the two of you made your way toward the door, you could feel your father’s eyes on you from the kitchen. You glanced back, catching his gaze. He didn’t say anything, but there was a look in his eyes that spoke volumes—concern, yes, but also acceptance. He was still uneasy about all of this, but he was trying.

Toji hesitated at the door, his hand resting on the knob as if waiting for some unspoken permission. Your father’s presence loomed in the background, a silent reminder of the tension that still simmered beneath the surface.

“Take care of her,” your father said finally, his voice low but firm.

Toji turned to face him, his expression serious as he gave a small nod. “I will.”

There was a beat of silence, and then your father spoke again, softer this time. “And take care of yourself too.”

Toji’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, but he nodded again, understanding the weight of those words. It wasn’t just about you anymore—it was about him too, about making sure this fragile new beginning didn’t shatter before it even had a chance to grow.

Without another word, Toji opened the door, and you both stepped out into the cool evening air. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the street, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you could breathe again.

As the door closed behind you, you glanced up at Toji, who was still tense but trying to relax. “You okay?” you asked softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

He looked down at you, his expression softening as his fingers intertwined with yours. “Yeah,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m okay.”

And for the first time in days, you believed him.

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐍

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: one too many times luffy has allowed himself to hit the sea, sinking beneath her waves, completely at ease with the trusted fact that you would save him. this time, though, you've had enough.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy x mermaid!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.9k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: continuation of this fic, a liiiiitle bit of angst, fluff, feminine terms used, requested

Your chest heaved as you glared through slitted eyes, targeting your limp and drenched captain who lay beside you. Your tail scraped uncomfortably against the wood of the deck, water dripping off your nose, cheeks, and shoulders.

"Why," you seethed, "On this wide blue sea did you even conceive that jumping after the bitch was a good plan?"

He sputtered up some water, laughing dopily as his eyes met yours. "I thought I could catch 'im. 'Sides, you saved me, didn't ya?"

Fists coiling on the ground, you gritted your teeth and thought to lash out your nails at him. "I am not your lifeguard, Luffy. Did you even consider that it hurts me when you put yourself in danger like that?" You thought back to the battle, growing blind to the awkward presence of the crew. "I was stuck fighting two of those pirates! What if I hadn't made it in time?"

"But... you did," he shrugged, not understanding one bit. He trusted you, and why shouldn't he? You're his mermaid, his favorite mermaid in the whole world ("You only know one mermaid, Luffy." "And I don't wanna know another!")

Ticking your teeth, you couldn’t stand to just lay there any longer. "Zoro, take me away."

After huffing to himself, Zoro lowered himself at your side, hooking your arms round his neck and scooping you up into his broad arms. Luffy's eyes narrowed, but he remained unable to lift his head more than a few inches, forced to watch his first mate carry you to your room.

He cast a look around, befuddled. "What did I do wrong?"

Nami sighed with a shake of her head. "Idiot."

All afternoon he replayed what had happened, muttering to himself all that could have gone wrong, anything to pinpoint why you were so worried. Did you not trust yourself? Or perhaps... no... it couldn't be that.

Luffy searched you out, brows met in a stiff crease. You sat perched atop the barrel dragged up against the window of the girl's cabin, soft melodies slipping from your lips, your legs wrapped up in your arms. Luffy could listen to you all day long and never tire of the beautiful tones of your voice.

You caught him leaning on the doorframe, snapping your mouth shut mid-song. Pressing your cheek to your knees, you turned away from him. "Go away."

Instead, Luffy came closer, taking a seat on your bed with crossed legs. "Why're you still mad at me?"

"Because," you hissed, trailing off less convicted, "you scared me today."

He blinked, shifting around. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me anymore. I wanted to talk to you all afternoon but you'd locked the door."

Finally lifting your head, eyes softening, you relented, "I'm not mad anymore. Just please don't do that again, not on purpose."

Soft smile splitting his face, he nodded firmly. "Promise." He scooted over to allow you room next to him, leaning back on his palms as you lay on your side and propped your head on his knee. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"Will you ever go back?" His question had you rolling over to stare up at him. "To your home. The reef."

"Oh." Throat dry, you couldn't draw your gaze away from his, forced to face his curiously tilted head. "I suppose so. Someday. I am a princess after all. It'd be... wrong to abandon my kingdom."

"Right." Luffy nodded, eyes unfocused. "And... what if you didn't?"

It was a question you'd been wondering about a lot lately, particularly when you spent time with Luffy. "My parents would choose a new heir. One of the young warriors probably... But I couldn't ask that of them. Besides, being the queen of my reef is my destiny. What would I do instead?"

Luffy fought internally, words prying their way up, up, up, and out, until he snapped his head away and stared at the wall. "You could go back and be queen there... or you could stay, and be queen here, with me."

Internally, you were screaming. Eyes wide, you slowly rose to sit beside him, a hungry look on your face. Your lips parted in surprise, revealing the two shiny fangs Luffy often found himself mesmerized by, wondering what they would feel like if he...

"Your queen?" You asked breathlessly. "You'd want me to be Queen of the Pirates?"

He nodded, halfway into a soft reply when you flung yourself at him, nosing at his neck and clutching at his sides till he was giggling beneath you. "That--That tickles!"

Laughing along with him, you grazed a fang over his chin, looming over him with eyes alit by unfurling joy. "The reef can find a new queen."

Luffy beamed up at you, his hands finding your waist, laughter rolling off his tongue even as you swiftly narrowed your expression. "So long as you don't scare me like that again! I'll only save you if you need it!"

He hissed out one last giggle through his teeth before tugging you down into a tight embrace. "Okay, okay. I promised, all right?"

Curling around him, you nearly jittered from the mere happiness swirling inside you. "All right."

Your parents would fight this, for certain. Their princess, their heir running off with a pirate was one thing, but claiming to never return for her birthright was entirely different. Something entirely more scandalous.

And you really couldn't care less. Let them try to take you away, you thought, feeling Luffy's heartbeat beneath your palm. You were a daughter of the sea, and he felt strangely like sunlight incarnate.

A king and his queen, to be known 'round the seas.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s

[maviscat123]

Anatomy II

By: JohnBoy

Someone was pounding on the door...

Big Jim Reese woke up with a snort; he'd been having a late afternoon nap on the cot in his office. His "office" was actually a small trailer, parked amongst some trees near the back of the construction site.

Jim sat up groggily -- he coughed and slowly ran a large, beefy hand over the stubble on his shaved head. The pounding came again, more urgent this time.

"Hey, Mr. Reese! You in there?" It sounded like a young guy.

"Yeah, yeah," he spoke in his deep baritone, "hold on a sec." The huge black man got up and opened the door.

It was Ken, the son of the crane-operator. He was tall and rather well-built, about 20 or so, sandy blond and blue-eyed, and with a tuft of bristly beard on the end of his chin.

Jim had noticed (on the four or five other occasions that he'd met him) that he always acted a bit shy and nervous around him. Probably, he guessed, because he was intimidated by his size: Jim was a half-foot taller than him, and probably out- weighed the kid by at least 130 pounds (a good deal of it was solid muscle, too).

"Hey Kenny, what're you doin' here?"

"Is-- is my Dad here?"

"Nope, he's gone home already." Jim yawned; he thought the young man looked even more nervous than usual. "Uh, everything okay?"

Ken glanced over his shoulder. "The cops are after me, man."

"What?" Jim looked towards the street; he could see a police cruiser pulling up in front of the site. He'd heard that this boy had been in trouble with the law in the past: B&E, some minor theft...

"I need a place to hide. Please, you gotta let me in!"

Jim sighed. He wanted nothing to do with this kid's problems. But an idea was starting to form in his head... and before he even realized it, he said, "Okay, get in." Ken was peeking out through the blinds, watching the cop. Jim had not asked him what kind of trouble he was in this time, and the kid hadn't told him...

"What's he doing?" Jim asked.

"He's just talking to one of the workers. Wait-- shit, the guy's pointing this way!"

Kenny looked around the trailer. "Fuck, if I get caught this time, I'm going to jail for sure. You can't let him find me!"

"If he wants to look in here, I don't think I can really stop him."

"But... there's no place to hide in here! What am I gonna do?"

"Well," he said slowly, trying to sound nonchalant, "I got a suggestion."

"What??"

"How much you weigh, Kenny?"

"Wha--? Uh, about 190, I guess. Why?"

Jim tugged thoughtfully at his wiry, dark goatee. This young man was a fair bit bigger than the doctor had been. He wondered, could he do it?

"You can hide... in here." Jim pointed to his stomach.

"Huh?"

"I could swallow you."

Ken just stared at him.

Jim went on, "Just for awhile. I could swallow you whole and hide you inside my belly, just 'til the cop leaves. Don't worry, you'll be safe. If he comes up here lookin' for you, well... there's no way he'd find ya. Then when he's gone, I'll let you out."

Ken continued to stare at him.

"Well? What do you think?"

"Oh come on... this is a joke, right?"

"No, I mean it. I'm serious."

"You're crazy, Mr. Reese. You can't swallow a whole person. It's-- it's frickin' impossible!!"

"Well, yeah, for most people. But I'm different; there's somethin' special about my anatomy that lets me do it. Big mouth, big throat, big stomach... just ask my doctor. Trust me, I can do it." Jim knew this might not be completely true... after all, when he'd done it before (three days earlier), Doctor Moffat had given him some kind of injection as well. Whether he could do it now, without the drug, remained to be seen.

Ken still seemed unconvinced. He looked out the window again, anxiously.

"Well, we're runnin' outta time, son," Jim said, "Do you wanna try it or not?"

"But... you'll let me back out, right?"

"Yeah, sure, of course I will."

The kid shrugged. "What the hell, I guess I got no choice. Okay."

"Damn right!" Jim tried to suppress his excitement. Ever since the doctor's appointment, he'd been thinking of little else but swallowing someone again -- and now he had his chance!! Of course he intended to release the boy afterwards...

but he thought, maybe he could try to keep him inside for awhile? Say, ten minutes or so? Would he survive in there that long??

"Er, what should I do...?"

The big man went to the tiny fridge and pulled out a stick of butter. "Take off all yer clothes and rub this on you."

Ken's face screwed up. "What are you gonna do, fry me up first?"

"It's to make you slide down easy. Come on. And take that earring off, too." Jim looked through the blinds. "You better hurry up, son. I think the cop is comin' this way," he lied.

Kenny started to undress. Jim took off his own shirt, undid the button on his jeans, and unzipped his fly part-way. He saw Ken looking at him as he did this, and said, "Gotta make room for ya." He patted his belly. "You're a big boy."

The young man was completely nude now. After hesitating for a moment, he picked up the stick of butter and began to rub it over his chest. "It's cold!"

"Don't worry, you'll get nice and warmed up once you're inside me." Jim realized that he was starting to salivate. His stomach began to grumble and groan in anticipation, and he wondered if Kenny could hear it...

After the boy had buttered himself up, Jim ordered him to lie down on the cot, on his back. He dropped to his knees heavily at the foot of the cot and grabbed him firmly by the ankles, lifting his feet up. He hoped the hunger in his face wasn't too obvious. Now Jim could see a hint of fear in Ken's expression, and realized he'd have to work fast and get it done with before he changed his mind. (And just in case the policeman came around, too!)

He said in a reassuring tone, "It's okay, kid. I promise it won't hurt a bit. I've done this before." He grinned. Then he crouched down and opened his mouth very, very wide...

"Shit, man," Ken mumbled.

With a grunt, Jim quickly thrust both feet into his mouth and part-way down his throat -- Ken giggled despite his fear, squirming around as if he was being tickled. Jim grasped his legs more tightly and pushed again, taking him in almost to the knees with a thick, slurping sound.

"Holy cow, I can't believe you're doing that!" the boy said in amazement. "Hey, wait, I just thought of something... will I even be able to breathe in there?"

Jim tried to nod (which wasn't easy), and gulped again, taking his legs in even further. He couldn't believe how fantastic this felt... the kid was delicious! He'd be moaning with pleasure if his throat hadn't been so full. He wished he could slow down and enjoy every inch of Kenny's smooth, firm, sweet flesh as it slipped inside him, but there wasn't enough time -- besides, he was too ravenous!

Ken's face turned pale as he watched the huge man's mouth working to take him in, gobbling him up, the lips stretching around his hips and ass now. "Goddamn..." he whispered.

Jim's eyes were starting to roll over white with the effort. He continued to swallow, while at the same time holding Ken by his upper arms and shoving him in. Then he guided his hands into his mouth, gaping even wider to engulf the boy's muscular torso and arms. He could feel his legs starting to fold up inside his belly.

"Uhh, Mr. Reese?"

He ignored him. He couldn't believe the power of his throat muscles; it seemed they were working on auto-pilot, flexing and gulping almost on their own, practically sucking the kid down his gullet... it felt so natural. He realized there was no question now as to whether or not he needed drugs to do this.

But the most difficult part was coming: Kenny's wide shoulders...

Ken seemed to be having a bit of trouble breathing with the pressure on his chest. His eyes were starting to bug out, and there was an incredulous expression on his face; Jim imagined that he must've looked quite bizarre right now, with his mouth stetched out to grotesque proportions.

This was starting to get harder, and the sensation of fullness was unbelievable. Perhaps the boy was too big? Had he bitten off more than he could chew, so to speak?

The young man blurted, "I-- I'm not sure about this anymore. Wait..." He began to struggle feebly, but his arms were pinned to his sides, inside Jim's throat.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the trailer door. A voice called out, "Anyone in there?"

Jim's heart lunged. Shit, it was the cop! He looked Ken in the face, wondering what his reaction would be. Would he scream for help??

A moment of silence passed... then Ken seemed to make his decision: "Uh," he cleared his throat, and tried to talk in a deeper voice, "Yes, officer? I mean, who is it?"

Jim would've smiled if he could. He continued to swallow -- but now it felt like the kid was almost stuck!

"Jim Reese? I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

"Uhh... okay, er, gimme a minute," Ken said.

Jim reached out, clamped onto Ken's shoulders and began forcefully shoving him in with all his strength, swallowing hard.

The door handle rattled. "Please open up, it's the police."

"Just-- just let me get some pants on! Oh, Christ..." Kenny gasped.

Now only his head still protruded from the man's mouth. Jim pushed on the crown of his head with both hands, and he continued to slide in... he could feel the kid's little beard scraping against the roof of his mouth.

In a muffled voice, he heard him say, "Jeez, it smells like hamburgers in here..."

And then he closed his mouth completely over him and gulped hugely. He felt the boy going all the way down, filling his gut...

The cop was knocking again, impatiently. "Sir, will you open the door??"

Jim was gasping for air. "Yeah, yeah," he managed to say. He could feel Ken squirming around inside him -- it seemed like he was trying to turn around. He gulped down several large mouthfuls of air so the kid could breathe. Then he got up with a loud grunt, steadying himself against the wall. The weight in his gut was incredible; he was having some difficulty just standing up!

He quickly kicked Ken's clothes and shoes under the cot, then unlocked the door.

The police officer looking up at him was on the short side, but quite burly. He had a thick, brown, brush-like moustache and a buzzcut. He was carrying his cap under one arm.

Almost immediately, his eyes went to Jim's enormous, round globe of a belly, and his jaw dropped slightly. But then he tried to compose himself and looked Jim in the face, saying in a firm voice, "Is there a problem?"

"Uh, no-- sorry I took so long, officer. I was... I had to put some clothes on." Jim tried to laugh.

The cop looked at him suspiciously. "I thought I heard someone else in here."

"Nope, just me. I was having a little snooze."

"Well... I'm Officer Banks. May I come in? I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Oh, sure." Jim backed up to allow the guy to enter.

"So you're the foreman on this site, Mr. Reese?" The cop couldn't seem to help himself; he kept glancing down at Jim's gut. Jim was nervous... for some reason, Ken was struggling a bit inside him, and he hoped it wouldn't be visible from the outside. Was the boy uncomfortable?

"Yes."

The policeman looked slowly around the interior of the trailer. He said, "You know a young man named Kenneth Delaney?"

"Yeah, I think so. He's one of the employees' kids."

"Have you seen him today?"

Jim's stomach gurgled audibly. "Ah, no. Haven't seen him."

"You sure? One of your workmen seems to think he came up here. He's in a bit of trouble, I'm afraid."

"Sorry, I was sleeping. I didn't see anyone." From Jim's belly came a small moan; Jim thumped a hand to his gut and uttered a short, loud burp. "Ooof... 'scuse me, officer!"

Banks couldn't seem to contain himself any longer -- chuckling, he poked Jim in the belly and said, "I'm sorry, but... man! That is some huge gut you've got there, buddy." He shook his head. "You got a horse in there, or what?"

"Aw, no, it's just fat. And... I had a big lunch today, too." Jim smiled broadly.

"Never seen anything like that. Damn! Sorry, I hope I haven't embarassed you."

"That's alright, I know I could stand to lose 'bout 200 pounds. So, umm... what's the boy done?"

"I can't really tell you that." The cop took another quick look around the trailer. "Well, you just keep an eye out for him, okay?"

"Okay, sure thing."

"Thanks for your time. You take care, sir." He left.

Jim could feel a massive belch building up, trying to escape. He sat down on the cot with a groan. Ken was wriggling around more now, and he could hear him trying to say something -- obviously, he wanted to be released.

Now that the policeman was gone Jim could relax, and really savour the experience of having a whole, live person inside his stomach. It felt great, even better than with the doctor... he'd never had such an enjoyable and satisfying meal in his life!

And now he was starting to realize something else: he didn't want to let the boy back out after all. He knew he had to; he'd surely suffocate in there before long and besides, he thought he could feel his digestive juices starting to flow. Just awhile longer, he thought...

The kid moaned again from inside his gut. His struggles seemed to be weakening.

Mm-mmm... he'd sure been a tasty morsel. He felt so full... and yet he thought that he could probably take someone even a little bigger than Kenny, next time. Jim rubbed his belly, opened his mouth wide and heaved out a huge, long, thun- derous belch. He was about to gulp down some fresh air for the boy, but then stopped himself.

With a sigh, he stretched out onto his back instead. I guess this was my plan all along, he thought to himself. Wasn't it? He didn't know if he could actually digest such an incredible amount of food...

but he supposed there was only one way to find out.

[angelicsoka]

YOU’RE SOMEBODY ELSE, t. zegras & h. brothers

part two <3

word count | 1.4k

pairings | trevor zegras x fem!hughes!reader, platonic!luke hughes x sister!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x sister!reader, platonic!jack hughes x sister!reader, 

summary | the youngest hughes sibling is slowly becoming someone she can’t recognize

warnings | mentions of self-harm, suicidal ideation, and depression. ANGST. not proofread. this is not a very happy fic, based on the song you’re somebody else by flora cash. no use of "y/n". lowercase intended. uses of the nicknames for reader include: miss sunshine, bub, & kid

a/n | i’m surprised with how my other post turned out, i definitely was not expecting that lol. here's another sad fic, based on another sad song. i wrote this at 1 am when i couldn’t sleep, so i apologize if this sucks. 

you held the balance of the time

that only blindly i could read you

but i could read you

it's like you told me

go forward slowly

it's not a race to the end

she was their sunshine. the youngest hughes sibling and luke’s twin sister was an open book. she wore her heart on her sleeve, and was the sweetest soul around. she had her brothers  wrapped around her finger, and it didn’t take long for trevor zegras to fall for her enchanting smile. he made her happy, something only her family had ever truly achieved. quinn remembered the moment she ran into his room, threw herself on his bed as she squealed: “quinny, i think i’m in love!”

quinn held a soft smile on his face as she went on and on about the date trevor had taken her on. she had trusted him to hold this secret until the couple was ready to tell the two other hughes brothers, who would more than likely overreact. “well, bub, i’m happy for you, but if he hurts you, you tell me and i’ll break his face.” quinn promised, laughing when she hit his shoulder in retaliation. 

“please, as if!” she laughed, getting up to hug quinn. “thanks, quinny. i love you.”

“i love you too, kid.” quinn watched as she practically bounced out of his room. she was so clearly in love, blinded by it even. maybe that's where everything went wrong. maybe they moved too fast, maybe she needed to learn to truly love herself before she could truly love him.

you were the better part

of every bit of beating heart that i had

whatever i had

i finally sat alone

pitch black flesh and bone

couldn't believe that you were gone

trevor zegras loved her, he loved her more than he thought he would ever be able to love someone. and it wasn’t that she didn't love him, it was that she didn't love herself. she made trevor a better person, made him want to do right by others. if she had taken the time to take care of herself like she had taken care of everyone else, maybe they could’ve made it. maybe, he had loved her too much. maybe, they were doomed from the start.

now, trevor was alone, unsure of what to do. she had left him, claiming that she wasn’t ready. that she loved him, but she could never love him like how he loved her. that she didn’t know how to love herself, so how could she love him? still, trevor blamed himself. he was angry that he couldn’t have shown her how much good she brought to this cruel world. he spent too many nights stuck in thought about her, about how things could’ve been different.

she spent too many nights stuck in thought about how the world would be better without her. about how things would be better for everyone if she was gone.

well, you look like yourself

but you're somebody else

only it ain't on the surface

well, you talk like yourself

no, i hear someone else though

now you're making me nervous

change is inevitable. it is bound to happen, yet the youngest hughes sibling feared change. she felt herself becoming a person she could no longer recognize, it was like her body was a house that had been intruded by unwelcome visitors. she looked the same, yet she had changed so much. 

she never told her brothers the real reason she had broken up with trevor, instead she simply told them they had grown apart. however, one look at trevor zegras told them it was more than just that. it was after that they began to notice the subtle changes in her: the joyous laughs that use to fill the lake house were much more quiet and less frequent, and her smile never quite met her eyes.

it was after luke caught a glimpse of the scars that littered his twin’s thighs and stomach that they knew it was serious. luke tried to talk to her, to figure out what was going on but she would find anyway to divert the conversation, to get away from the inevitable change.

luke led his twin into the basement where quinn and jack were waiting. he had promised a movie night, just him and his sister and god, did he feel guilty about what he was about to do. he quickly shut the door, blocking her only way out. the look on her face made him want to break down. the once bright, bubbly girl looked nervous and so very tired. tired like she knew she couldn’t keep going like this without telling someone.

she took one look at her older brothers before breaking down in sobs. luke was quick to embrace her, jack and quinn on their feet in an instant. the words tumbled out, the need to tell someone being so unbearably overwhelming.

“i can’t do it anymore. i can’t keep living like this. i can’t look in a fucking mirror because i hate myself! i hate how i look, the way i talk and laugh! that’s why i do this to myself because i fucking deserve it!” she rolled up her sleeve, revealing the healing scars.

 “there’s this fucking war going on in my head and i’m losing. i can’t keep going, i don’t wanna keep going! i wish that i could go back to when i was a kid, to when i wasn’t so fucked in the head.” the words just kept coming, as well as the tears. she couldn’t see it, but her brothers were in shambles at this revelation. the fact that their sister hated herself so much she would physically hurt herself, that she couldn’t see how much she meant to them. “maybe i’m just better off dead.”

“don’t say that, don’t you ever fucking say that or even think that.” luke pulled back, looking to his sister. 

“bub, why didn’t you tell us you felt this way?” quinn questioned, watching as she took the tissue jack offered her. she sat on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. jack sat beside her, looking at her with teary eyes. luke was on her other side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. quinn sat in front of her, a broken look on his face; he was the oldest of them all, he was supposed to protect them. why couldn’t he have protected her from this?

“i didn’t want to be a burden.” she sniffled, avoiding eye contact. jack scoffed beside her, pulling her gaze to him. 

“you? a burden? miss sunshine, you could never be a burden. your feelings are not a burden.” she felt relieved, glad that she would not have to carry this weight alone. tears began to cascade down her face as she allowed jack to hug her. she cried as her twin and oldest brother joined.

“you are so loved, miss sunshine. so fucking loved.” quinn kissed her forehead, a smile creeping on to her face. 

“thank you.” she rasped out, drying her eyes. she fell silent for a moment, deep in thought. “i was promised a movie night…” she trailed off, a smile adorning her face. this time it reached her eyes. “but first, i have someone i need to talk to.”

she stood up, walking to the basement bathroom. she closed the door behind her, taking a seat on the lid of the toilet. she dialed a number on her phone, hesitating slightly before she hit the call button. it rang a couple times before he picked up. “hey, z, you busy?”

“are you alright?”

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. just really needed to hear your voice.” she smiled, even though he couldn’t see it.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned, concern clear in his voice.

“yeah, i'll explain everything when you get here next week, i just needed to hear your voice.” she heard distant voices on his end, followed by rustling as he pulled the phone away from his ear. 

“i’m sorry, but i gotta go.” he sounded upset, still clearly very concerned about her.

“that's okay, z. uh, before you go, i’m sorry... about everything.”

“its okay, it'll all be okay.” more distant voices could be heard, “i gotta go, i love you.” he ended the call, probably not realizing what he had said. it was in that moment, she knew everything would be alright.

i saw the part of you

that only when you're older, 

you will see too

you will see too