#and it doesn’t even have to be on Tumblr - but I just hope that for energy anyone is giving bts/svt/atz/skz and others you’re also willing

[cuntdevil]

★ NEVER BE ENOUGH !

the fan fiction he writes for you will never be enough, and neither is the week he's been gifted to meet you. it will never be enough until he has you in his hold.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, kamo choso, dark content & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact & 17k words !

╰┈➤ fanboy/fan fic writer!kamo choso & actress!reader, choso has a tumblr account, parasocial relationship, obsessive!kamo choso, stalking, nonconsensual photo taking, mentions of masturbation, sexual fantasies, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, etc.

( author's note. ) i enjoyed writing this piece so much, even though i was a bit nervy !! i hope you lot enjoy as well !! much love, baebies. mwah !

They say people that write fan fiction are weird. That they’re stuck in a world that will never become a reality. That they’re obsessed with fiction instead of focusing on the authentic. And, in a way, it’s true. They have an imagination that brings them to wonders and they hope to escape the real world. They spend hours on end trying to perfect scenes, hyper-fixating on one specific idea that came to them at the whee hours in the middle of the night that they just had to bring to life to alleviate the constant badgering inside of their mind. They give people a gift, something free to read in their spare time, for nothing in exchange except for a like, reblog and a comment to share their feelings. 

Choso, he doesn’t feel ashamed when he admits that he indulges in fan fiction to his friends. Why should he? It is, after all, a form of creativity. However, the teasing becomes annoying and it’s all they can talk about for weeks on end, so instead, he keeps it to himself because he just can’t be bothered. But, to say he’s ashamed? No, that’s something he’ll never be. 

Why should he be when he can fabricate an entire universe inside of his mind? Why should he be when he can beckon thousands of people to read his work and garner a following that tells him that he’s not alone — that there are people who enjoy his work and what he can create with the right pairings of words and phrases? Why should he be when he has mutuals that write alongside him, doing what they love to do?

Call him an extremist all they want, but if other men can create their dream characters in their fantasy footballs and have entire plotlines to how they came to the top, what’s so different from it? He should be able to love something so much that he needed to create his own world(s) of it. Even if they all revolve around you. 

If anyone were to scroll through his masterlists, they'd see that over one hundred of them had your name in it. Didn’t matter if it was a specific character you played or if it revolved around the real you, it was a consistent list that let his readers know that he was irrevocably in love with you. It was concerning until they saw a different name not tied down to you, clicking on the link as their previous remarks were quickly forgotten. 

He had first come to know of you through a sit-com, Big House. A child actress with the cutest of eyes. You had called all the attention on you as viewers loved you the moment you were introduced, rating going higher and the television series going for a total of eight seasons. It was a long-running show during the time that it ended, but Choso soon learned that all the episodes he had been watching at the time were reruns and weren’t current. It had disappointed him as he, too, saw your appeal to the mass.

He had next seen you on another show aimed for kids and families, once again, compiling high ratings for television companies as you had many side projects of modeling, acting in different franchises, and even dabbling in a short-term music career (It was an inside joke to fandom that your singing career remains unmentioned). However, Choso didn’t feel inclined to write until you starred in Us Against the World. 

For the first time, you were the main star of the show, finally showing the world your true capabilities and leaving everyone enamored by your performance. It worked especially well in your favor as previously, you were tied to a huge controversy that tarnished your name, being labeled as Hollywood’s Supreme Diva, after freshly turning eighteen and paparazzi weren’t so nice. 

The countdown to your eighteenth birthday had been a disaster as preying men had been looking forward to the big one-eight and the media entertained it— sexualizing your transition from child to adulthood. You had already started rebelling at sixteen, photo-ops have proof of you smoking and participating in underage drinking. Mothers ridiculed you, fathers fantasized about you. It was so disgusting in Choso’s eyes, his thick pieces on Tumblr being proof of it.

When the day had come and you wanted to celebrate despite the media constantly being up your ass, paparazzi were bombarding you the moment you slipped outside of a Casino, reaching for you in attempts to ask you invading questions. You had your bodyguards with you, but one managed to sneak through the cracks, reaching straight for your breasts. There were two infamous shots taken back then— one of you being groped and the next one you punching said paparazzi square in the jaw. 

Your father made you take self-defense classes, and you knew you could throw a punch. It was evident on the sleazy man’s face that you could, too, but in efforts to keep his dignity intact. He spit out the blood and said, “You punch like a little bitch!”

That was the title of the articles that came out the very next day, alongside (Your Name) has become the Supreme Diva of Hollywood. You seemed to have vanished after that night as people went on and on about your disrespectful nature, like you should’ve just let the man grope you. And people didn’t ignore your absence for a while, further articles being published and claiming that you were embarrassed about the way you lashed out. 

You had stayed away from the media for two to three years until you were offered a role to play the lead in a zombie television show called Us Against the World. The director had contacted you herself, explaining who she saw you as, Beatrice Martin, and how she thought you were well suited for the character, seeing everything that you went through. You had gotten so comfortable with the silence and seclusion from the world of fame that you were about to say no, but instead, your mouth had said “yes” and further promised that you were willing to at least audition for the role. 

Choso had set a reminder on his calendars of when the show would first be televised, locking himself up in the room with food and drinks as he was perched on his bed. The opening scene began with you and from that moment forth, he was hooked on the television show and you. Shortly afterwards, he had found himself immersed into the world of fandom, learning more about it and that people wrote fics based on the characters and different forms of media they enjoyed. From Wattpad to Quotev to Fanfiction.net, Choso indulged in many websites and apps. However, he felt a calling when he found Tumblr— the shitty site holding him bound by his arms and legs— the url handle kamoso becoming an account that many people look forward to clicking. 

—

You thought you were done with acting. You wanted to be, but now that you’re back under the limelight and more in control about your image, you manage to endure the brunt of the lifestyle. The worst has passed, after all. 

You’ve fallen back in love with the art of being someone else, finding comfort in the fake as you flash faux smiles and scream in agony on the camera as your significant other on screen gets ripped apart by the undead, fake blood pouring from the contraption connected to the fake arm. However, under the circumstances you’re under, you can’t stop and mourn, calling more attention to yourself under the herd of zombies hurdling your way. You have to be selfish and think for yourself, trying not to look back at the hungry mob nibbling on your dying lover. 

You run until the scene is called to a close, halting your movements as you pant. Hands landing on your knees as you hunch over and throw your head back. And when your co-star, Geto Suguru, touches your shoulder, you immediately reach to hug him, groaning as you tighten your hold around him and him doing the same. Everyone crowds together in this moment of goodbye because outside of flashbacks and cameos, this will be the last of consistently seeing him. 

And while this is all fake, some of it feels real as you will mourn the loss of another consistent cast member, soon to be replaced by someone else come episodes or seasons later. However, you’ll enjoy the video essays and the threads online people will create the moment the episode will drop— crazy conspiracy theories being said as fans stay completely in denial to the loss of another founding character. Or, people lowkey glad that they’re gone, sharing their thoughts on why they hated Geto’s character. Whatever it will be, you’ll use some of your spare time to giggle at it and message him later on that day. 

Because, outside of the bad that has come out of achieving your dreams, you really have come to enjoy the good that comes out of it. Like the contest that you’re participating in, the television company, ABC Channel, you’re currently working under partnering with ‘The Aspiring’ to host a contest, inviting a few fans to meet with any of the participating cast members of whatever show under ABC for a week. As explained to you, the contestants will submit an entry following the prompt: If you were to rewrite one episode, which one would it be, and why? 

You had found the prompt interesting when the news of a contest was announced during one of the meetings when Us Against the World was ready to start filming for the new season, opting yourself to be one of the stars who were willing to participate. It had brought a lot of shocked faces as you haven’t really shown interest in much fan interactions minus occasional hellos you’d give when someone recognized you. You had kept yourself reserved much to the media’s dismay as they were quick to write off that you had returned back to your old ways, but genuine fans were always quick to defend you, seeing you as what you are— human. Nonetheless, you received support from your fellow co-stars and staff, happy that you’re opening yourself up a bit more. 

The contest has yet to be announced, but you’re anticipating it as you also had the chance to be involved in who won for your show. It would be an opening of opportunities for the winner, a possible chance to network if they had true potential. You were always grateful that someone saw yours and you wanted to be the next person to shine the light onto someone else. You could hear your father’s voice inside your head at times, questioning you for your naivety and how you could take a risk like this. You can hear the deep, angered grumble of his voice chastising you. “How can you be so stupid? Why would you take a chance like this?”

Once upon a time, you’d let his every word dictate you. You hadn’t much choice as he was your parent and you were a minor, but you let his words become your Bible and had lost yourself along the way. While you had deterred yourself away for a while— hence the columns of you drinking and smoking— you had always let him put his foot on your neck in deciding who you were to be otherwise. It got worse when you had turned eighteen and you had let him put a halt in your acting career, wanting you out of the limelight for good. You had wanted a break, but never wanted to detach yourself entirely. When Us Against the World was offered to you, you and your father had a huge falling out about it and you haven’t seen him since. 

He’s called, and you have, but neither of you have made the effort to see one another. And, honestly? You like it that way. You want to shine without the moon standing in your way. Everyday, you’re a little closer to doing just so. 

—

theaspiring and abchannel 

Want to meet one of your favorite stars? You’re just in luck! The Aspiring and ABC are collaborating together to give dedicated fans a chance to spend a week with one of their favorite stars. All you have to answer is: If you were to rewrite one episode from your favorite ABC series, which would it be, and why? 

Put your imagination to use as we’re accepting a variety of submissions. However, please adhere to our rules and guidelines when submitting. Click the link below for more information and faqs. We can’t wait to see your submission!

www.theaspiring.com/abc-x-the-aspiring-contest 

Choso’s heart begins to race, reading the post caption, checking the account legitimacy only to see that both accounts are verified. When he clicks on the hyperlink, it sends him straight to the official website. He has to pinch himself in order to convince his mind that this is real— that this opportunity is an actuality and there’s a possibility that he can win.

He throws his phone at the far corner of the bed, too close to the edge but never falling. On his nightstand, he immediately reaches for his laptop, an idea already in mind as he spends the rest of the day writing. He typically finds himself like this when he writes, caged up inside of his bedroom as neglecting his health in order to finish a fic. The many times he had to tell himself that this wasn’t serious— fan fiction isn’t serious— and that he shouldn’t ruin his health because of it. However, he just gets so captivated by it, putting all of his focus on it and not eating or drinking or showering the entire day. His fingers would only move as his eyes got dry from looking at the screen for hours on end, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop as his mind would only go and go and go. If he didn’t get it down now, he was in fear that all of his ideas would evaporate in that very moment and they’d get lost in the abyss of forgotten epiphanies. 

Right now is the same as the last time he looked at the clock, it was only ten in the morning. When he’s finally done, it’s eight at night and the word count reads over 20k words long. He’s developed a migraine by now, finally shutting the laptop as the document automatically saves. The moment his feet hit the floor, it tingles and he has to limp his way to his bedroom door. He rolls his head back, his vision getting funny as he opens the door. He’s starting to feel the quick repercussions of his actions as his stomach growls and he starts feeling nauseous. He has to force himself to muster up the strength, fixing a small bowl of oatmeal to take away the pain and jump in the shower right after. 

The heat of the water is relaxing, the piping hot touch cracking every aching muscle in his body as he relaxes. The eucalyptus body wash infiltrates the steamy air, its strong scent lulling him to sleep that he nearly slips and calls it quits. Somewhere along the way, the clip holding his hair up has slipped out, his hair falling in front of his face haphazardly. The white towel wrapped around his waist threatens to fall as he takes careful steps, excess water dripping in his path. In the comfort of his bedroom once again, he pulls on a baggy t-shirt and pajama pants as he jumps back into bed. His laptop lays next to him as he’s momentarily coaxed to get back on it, but the exhaustion running rampant through him takes control and knocks him out before he could truly contemplate what was happening. 

The next day, when he’s wide awake, he works on the document again. He proofreads it, correcting all of his mistakes and making sure that everything makes sense. The document name, Never Be Enough. He had always wanted to write a fix-it fic for one of the most tragic episodes in the entire series, where your character— Beatrice— had finally reunited with your father after being departed for months because of the apocalypse. It was the main plot to the series for majority of the time as every time that you were close, some heavy obstacle would fall into place, distancing the both of you before either of you knew. It aggravated him, the writing of the show that he remembered wanting to drop it at some point. However, he braved it through. 

When the episode finally came where Beatrice was finally reunited with her dad, he was ripped away from her. Literally torn apart from her in a stampede of zombies that managed to make it through the barricade surrounding the small colony of survivors. Your band of friends that helped you get there had to get you away as you watched in pain, the last part of your old life all gone. The episode was called Never Be Enough, and gosh, while he hated it, it fit so perfectly. Because no matter how much you have fought to get there, it all felt like it was never enough. Choso had to question if it was his emotions that made him believe that the show writers were just crappy at their job and if in actuality, they were geniuses. 

After the season was left on that cliffhanger, it made Choso go into a silent rage inside of his mind as he could only think about how it ended and the possibility of your character arc being ruined before it even got the chance to get better. He had written some possibilities of a better ending, but never decided on it until yesterday. Twenty thousand words he had to look over, and if he’s being honest with himself, it still doesn’t feel like enough. But while there wasn’t a word limit of written entries for the contest, he didn’t want to test said limits and kept most of the piece where it was at. When he was finished, he formatted the first page how it was asked of him.

Alternative Ending to Us Against the World, Season Two: Episode 11

Never Be Enough by Kamo Choso.

Top Three Picks for 1 Week Celebrity Meet: Your Name, Geto Suguru, and Nobara Kugisaki.

He wrote a small page on why he thought the episode needed to be written before he transitioned onto the work itself, making sure that it flowed together before overlooking the entire document again. When he was finally satisfied, he downloaded the document— Never_Be_Enough_KCH.docx— and logged into his account for The Aspiring. He hated this feeling, this piercing pressure of anxiety in his chest. It happened whenever he posted a new fic and now it was happening with this, too, but this? This was much worse.

He felt like he could barely breathe, slowly dragging the file with his cursor and watching it load. When he read 100%, he hovered over the ‘Submit’ button and squirmed in his gaming chair, the seat swiveling as he turned from side to side. Closing his eyes, he just had to do it. The sound of the right click echoing through the room before he opened his eyes again and watched the screen load. Then, virtual confetti blowing across the screen as ‘Successful!’ reads across the laptop. He lets out the breath he was holding, his reddened face losing its color as he shuts the screen and jumps onto his bed. 

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he clicks open the Tumblr app, opening up a new post page and types out: ‘I think I just made the worst mistake yet. I’ll tell you guys later if I’m a fool or not.’

—

You never realized how reviewing competition submission could be so tiring. Days and days of watching, viewing and reading what people had to say. While it had been fun at the beginning, it quickly became tedious and exhausting after day three. From your checklist, you marked off those you found no interest in and checked off people who had lots of potential.

Each submission was sorted by the contestants’ top choices, where you seemed to have the majority of it for Us Against the World. Thankfully, any submission that had shown red flags were immediately removed before your viewing, but it was still a heavy amount that you had to go through. Your body ached and your vision started to blur as you read over another paragraph before groaning. You shut your phone screen off and drop the device right next to you on the couch and get up. 

When you stood up, you stretched and sauntered straight to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a tupperware of leftovers. When you look at the time, it’s only twelve in the afternoon. A yawn draws from your lips, eyes squinting shut as the hum of the microwave sounds in the small luxury apartment. You stretch once more, arms rising above your head as your shirt joins you for the ride, your belly button peeking from underneath. Three chimes before you’re opening the microwave door and pulling out the orange chicken and lo mein, stabbing a fork in it and blowing on the spoonful of food. 

You turn on the television the moment you return back to the couch, taking a moment to unwind and watch something that isn’t so of substance. Somewhere in between, you fall asleep, food halfway finished and nearly falling from your grasp. Your head leans crooked as you sleep sitting up, your head resting simultaneously on the wall and the leather as you’re tilting over. Ever so slowly do you move until you hit that slippery slope, falling down so fast that you jump awake in fright and your fork finally falls from the tupperware, clinking against the marble floor. 

“Shit,” you curse, never meaning to fall asleep. Glancing at the clock, more time has passed more than you expected, making you curse one more time as you go in search of your phone. It loads back to the last submission, which you quickly click out of and find something else. It takes time getting back in the groove of things, but when you do, you find yourself with certainly more energy than you did before, managing to skim through most of them. 

You spend the remainder of your day cooped up back on the couch before you’re clicking on what you note will be the last submission for the night. The document name, Never_Be_Enough_KCH.docx, when you click on it, it takes some time to load. The three dots spinning around in a circle before the front page loads. 

When you start scrolling, you gasp. “Damn…”

Over twenty thousand words to read. Wow, you think. They practically wrote a novel. You started debating on if you should really end your night with this. If you did, you won’t go to bed until midnight, and you have a busy schedule tomorrow. It wouldn’t be worth it. However, you manage to convince yourself to read the first paragraph at most, reading why they believed that episode should’ve been remade. In fact, they went on a miniature rant on why they believed the entire first couple of seasons should have been rewritten. It made you laugh as it heavily intrigued you, leading you to scroll further and read through it more.

One thousand words became two, and five thousand became ten. The words were written so seamlessly that when you stopped to glance at the time, you no longer cared, wanting to know what happened next. It was as if you weren’t an actress, but a fan of the series itself, immersed so deeply into the plot as you started tearing up at some points, laughing at the next. It felt amazing to be well invested in something. When it was finally over and you could no longer scroll, you felt a missing piece within your heart as you felt like it was too short and there should be more. 

Pushing yourself to sit up on the couch, you wiped away the tears on your face. “Fuck,” you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. You didn’t think coming into this, you’d get so emotional, but this person? You scroll back to the beginning of the document, reading their name. This person, Kamo Choso, really outdid themself. On your list, you highlight his name. You don’t care if you didn’t finish the majority of entries, you go to message your manager, downloading the file as you send it to her. You even go the extra mile to messaging your coworkers, your text reading along the lines of: This one is definitely worth the read. I think I’ve already found my winner. 

—

In two months time, Choso receives an email from The Aspiring. He doesn’t open it immediately. Instead, he waits until the next day at midnight when he’s finally remembering it. With short breaths and his chest rising and falling, his thumb hovers over the notification as the subject line reads— Your Submission Results are in . . . 

And gosh, Choso really has to work on his pessimistic views because when he finally clicks on the email, he immediately thinks he’s lost the competition, dread coursing through his body as he’s preparing himself for disappointment. However, the words of We’re Sorry never show up and instead . . .

Congratulations, Choso! We were very impressed with your submission as you’ve managed to keep us on the edge of our seats for your entry. We’re ecstatic to say that you’ve won a chance to meet your number one pick, Your Name. They have a very special note to further congratulate you. 

“Congratulations, Choso! I wanted to personally say that I really enjoyed every ounce and every minute that I got to read your submission. It was really immersive and I have to say, you have a special way with words. Thank you so much for the time you spent writing it because I know it was a lot. Can’t wait to meet you in person!” — Your Name. 

Choso went to sleep as a more happy and optimistic man. 

DAY ONE

Airplanes have never been Choso’s thing. He doesn’t travel much, but when he does, he tries to avoid them if he can. He doesn’t have a fear of them, but he finds them so uncomfortable. The entire process of having to check in and then going through his packed bags to take out electronics and whatever TSA asks of him. It’s a tiring process that he’d just like to avoid altogether. However, for you and a paid flight, he’s willing to go through the hassle. He just has to make sure he has enough stuff to help him survive the trip over. It’ll be about a seven hour flight, after all. 

Scheduled to board the plane at twelve-fifteen, he should arrive around eight-fifteen. However, due to the different time zones, it’ll be somewhere around five when they land. It’s the one thing that Choso dreads when traveling as a whole, the change of time always messing with his mind and making him an absolute grumpy mess as he tries to get accustomed to it all. But, then again, he tells himself, it’s for you and it’s an all expenses covered trip. He shouldn’t complain at all.

When he boards the flight and it’s finally ready for take off, the first thing he pulls out is his iPad and the keyboard installment to go with it, pulling up offline documents he made sure to have saved up to his current progress. He spends the majority of the time on the plane hopping from one document to the next as it helped ease him during the turbulence and ongoing ruckus that would happen from time-to-time. 

Black headphones that drown out the rest of the world, when his iPad dies and his portable charger is already in use, he spends the next hour fast asleep with Lofi hip hop playing in his ears until he’s being nudged awake. One, two, three times he is nudged because he’s finally awake. A raspy ‘hm?’ that leaves his lips before his dark eyelashes flutter open. His aisle is completely empty when he looks around, only a flight attendant standing in front of him. “Sir, the plane has landed and everyone’s left.”

“Huh?” he hums before he realizes what she’s said. “Oh!” 

Face heating up as he abruptly stands, nearly falling over, he rushes to the overhead storage to pull out his carry on luggage. He leads himself out of the plane, never making eye contact with the rest of the attendants as he shuffles with his carry on. Checking the time, it’s thirty minutes past five and the vehicle waiting for him will be here around six. He thanks the simplicity of domestic flights as he doesn’t have to go through the heavy hassle of further checks, making a beeline towards the exits as people crowd the outside, either waiting for their ride or taking their luggage out of the trunk.

Choso passes the time with music playing in his ears and his eyes glued to the phone, reblogging posts and reading through his TBR list on Tumblr. When the clock ticks closer to six, he’s shutting his phone off and keeps his eyes out for his designated ride, anticipation running through him whenever a vehicle comes close. It has his anxiety racing as his fingers twitch to the jagged birthmark etched across the bridge of nose, the dark line probably annoyed with his habit. 

When his ride did come, it was more than he expected. A black limousine parking in front of Terminal D, just as they had explicitly told him. People were selfish as the vehicle tried to turn into the front, honking their horns in hopes to get past. However, the stubborn chauffeur stayed in place as shortly, people made space for him. When he finally parked, the chauffeur hopped out of the front seat as he quickly averted his attention to Choso. The dark birthmark being the indicator of his identity as he approached him. “Kamo Choso, am I right?”

Choso nods, eyes widening as he realizes that the limousine was, in fact, for him. He shouldn’t have expected anything less, but he didn’t suspect it to be just like the media portrayed it. “Uhm, yeah,” he verbally responds. “That’s me.”

“Great,” the chauffeur smiles curtly. “I’m Haibara. I just need to see some ID and we’ll be on our way.”

Pulling out his passport, Haibara takes a picture of it, his fingers swiping and clicking away before guiding Choso over to the vehicle. As the man holds the door open for him, Haibara already having thrown his luggage in the trunk, Choso takes a step inside as he observes in awe. Next to his seat, a basket of goodies that waited for him as well as a few refreshments. When Haibara finally hops into the front seat, he looks through the rear view mirror. “_____ bought you a basket full of snacks for you to enjoy on the ride down. She expected that you’d be a bit peckish after the long flight. I hope they’re to your liking.”

“Oh,” Choso hums, grabbing the basket as Haibara starts the engine, pulling out of the space. “That was nice of her.”

The comment was more to himself, and thankfully, Haibara didn’t comment on it as he simply nodded in agreement as his eyes became glued to the road. The only time he did talk was to ask if Choso wanted to change the radio, and showed him how to do so if and when he felt like he needed to. Other than that, the ride to the hotel was silent. The traffic was heavy where it nearly took an hour to arrive. Choso had finished two bags of chips since the ride, about to pick up another one when Haibara spoke once more. 

“I forgot to mention this earlier, but there’ll be a welcome dinner later tonight,” he informs Choso. “Once we arrive, you can freshen up and in an hour’s time, you’ll meet me back at the entrance of the hotel.”

Just as he says that does he pulls up in front of the hotel, parking the limousine right in front of the double doors. Exiting the vehicle, Choso grabs the small basket of snacks along with him as Haibara helps him with his luggage, signaling for the bell boy to assist Choso. The building exterior itself is large, a beautiful sight to see, but the inside is a thousand times better. It’s unfortunate that Choso didn’t get much time to marvel in it as Haibara nudges him forward as the bell boy nearly leaves him behind. 

“You’ll have plenty of time to look around later,” Haibara chuckles as he helps Choso check in at the front. Right as he’s about to temporarily depart, he gives Choso a curt nod. “I’ll see you in a few.” 

Choso doesn’t know if he prepared himself well enough. What was he supposed to do when he finally met you? It never felt real to him until this very moment, where he finds himself in the small confines of his hotel room and he’s opening his suitcase. Did I even pack anything decent enough to meet them? What am I even supposed to wear? Is it fancy? “Fuck,” he curses, flinging the cover of the suitcase over it as he stands up. A shower… A shower is what he needs. 

When it’s the time that Haibara instructed Choso to meet him, Choso is two minutes late. He hopes the brunette wouldn’t chastise him for it, but then again, the man didn’t seem like the type. If anything, he’d probably sweep it under the rug as it was just two minutes. 

So said, so done. Instead of the limousine, Haibara’s now standing in front of a black Lexus, legs crossed as his hands are stuffed inside his pockets. He has that habitual smile on his face as his eyes crease as he says, “You’re right on time.”

It makes Choso want to snort as Haibara holds the door open for him and hops inside. The drive is much shorter than the trip from the airport down to the hotel, arriving in just under twenty minutes. Haibara bids him a nice farewell as he instructs Choso what to do when he gets inside. 

He can already feel it, the sweaty palms and the damp under arms of his short-sleeved button up. He’s starting to shiver already as well. Each breath he takes is getting shorter and shorter and he’s trying to stop himself from experiencing a panic attack when the doors automatically open for him and there’s a sweet woman standing right at the front.

“Welcome to Mahogany,” she smiles kindly. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Uh, yeah,” Choso breathes. “I—I’m here for the welcoming dinner. My name’s Kamo Choso.”

She nods her head, receiving a clipboard as she reads through it. When she spots his name, her eyes light up as she leads him around back. That’s where he spots her, where it took him no time at all. Everyone’s seated together at a table that has to fit around twenty at least. It’s overwhelming.

It’s not just you, but it’s Geto Suguru, Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuuji, Gojo Satoru… It’s some of the cast that he’s only ever been able to meet in person. It has him stopping in his tracks just a few steps away from everyone, where the hostess walks ahead of him, unaware that he’s stopped. He wants to turn around and tell Haibara to come back, but he’s probably driven off and he never did get his number. Would he have even given it to me? He asks himself. 

“Here’s your—” the waitress stops her in tracks when it comes to her realization that Choso hadn’t followed along, head spinning around to see that he’s a few tables down. It calls for more attention, much to his dismay as the chatter dies down and almost everyone’s peering their head to see their new guest.

Choso wants to die, face heating up as his hand raises to scratch at his birthmark. It’s the same person that’s caused this reaction to speak up. Your eyes elated as you push back your chair, coming to stand. “Choso!”

Your eyes meet your smile. They sparkle as you extend your arms out to him. Dressed in an orange dress, it compliments you well as the top hugs your upper frame before flowing at the skirt. It's simple, but perfect for the occasion as you have an ivory-toned shall to go with it. “I've been so excited to finally meet you in person. You have no idea how much I loved your entry. I read every single word of it and I even went back and read it two more times when I had the chance.”

You speak to him so easily. How do you do it? “You— You actually read it?”

“Yeah,” you chirp, guiding him to his seat next to you. “We all got a chance to read through the majority, if not all, the entries, and chose our favorites. Oh! By the way, let me greet you to everyone here—” 

Slowly does his anxiety dissipate with every passing second as he takes a seat next to you. You take time to introduce the winning contestants who’re also here and your co-stars. His heart still races, however, beating rapidly across his chest that it feels like it’ll implode. You’re more beautiful than you appear on screen. Your hair combed into one as your voluminous strands dance upwards like a crown. Curls that glide alongside your forehead with tendrils right at your temples. Your makeup matches the warmth of your orange dress, a slightly orange-tinted blush that works well for your warm undertones. You’re a beauty made to be marveled over, someone who deserves to be painted, your picture hanging in one of the finest of museums. 

Eyes glued to you the majority of dinner, he can feel it deep within himself. He’s in love. 

DAY TWO

A blessing that comes with acting is the impact that you have over people’s lives. Seeing how being an inspiration has truly framed a person’s life as they build a positive outlook on their dreams, thus chasing after them. The stories they share, or how they’ve found comfort in your shows. It all warms your heart when their genuinity outshines and sparks joy within you. 

You don’t want to hold yourself on a high pedestal, but you can read it all over Choso. The adoration he has for you, it was evident in his entry and it was evident at the welcome dinner last night. Standing starstruck as he gawked over the celebrities that sat around the table, but eyes ultimately meeting yours as they glossed and shined over in a thin veil of tears. You remember first being that way when you hit the limelight. It felt incredible meeting your admirations, but it could also be embarrassing.

It was cute how Choso was flustered and completely enamored once you broke that thick coat of awe, pulling him in for conversation as many of them complimented him for the work he put in before boasting about their winners themselves. In your eyes, the dinner was a tremendous success and you could only anticipate what today was going to be like as well as the rest of the week.

As your makeup is being done for the current episode filming, there’s three light knocks on the door. You shout, “It’s open!” 

One of the personal assistants opens the door, pushing his head inside as they make eye contact with you. “Ma’am, Choso has arrived. Do you want me to send him in?”

You don’t hesitate to respond with a ‘yes.’ Nodding your head, you smile. “Send him in.”

It isn’t long before the door’s shut that it’s opened once again as the same personal assistant leads Choso inside the trailer. Instead of the black button and black denim jeans he had on yesterday, Choso has on a white t-shirt and a pair of black sweats as he stands inside the trailer, hands shoved in his pants as he stands awkwardly. Your makeup artist gives him a polite smile as she does the last touch-ups before giving you the go ahead. 

“She’s all yours now,” she chuckles, before gathering up the belongings and giving the two of you alone time. Choso still can’t believe how your eyes continue to match your smile, portraying genuine happiness as you beckon him to take a look around.

“It’s not really much,” you shrug. “Just what I need to survive when filming hours drain me and I don’t have the time and energy to head back to my apartment.” Choso’s eyes travel, taking in the small exterior. It feels so homely as a bed is fixed to the far left corner as a few furniture pieces stand, holding a clutter of your belongings. Somehow, you’ve managed to make the space feel so real and cozy. “But, this isn’t the exciting part—” You cut the tour of your trailer short, pushing open the door and climbing down the steps. “—C’mon, the set where we actually film is much better.” 

You walk a few paces before Choso catches up to you. When he finally exits, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of something shimmering as his hands went stuffed back into his pocket, but you ignored it, figuring it was just the reflection of the light. Quickly, your mind ventured to the task at hand as you led the way down the set. 

“We have two options for you guys,” you say, constantly glancing back at Choso to make sure he’s caught up with your quick steps. “Because the new season hasn’t aired and we don’t want to spoil things for you, we’ve got your chauffeurs on standby. You’ve got Haibara and I know he’s willing to bring you anywhere you want, he’s being paid a bit extra for it.

“Or, if you don’t mind a bit of spoilers and want to see more of the action,” you turn around, walking backwards as you wiggle your eyebrows. “You get to watch us film. Which one is it?”

“Who wouldn’t want to see you guys film?” Choso scoffs, his answer evident. He didn’t come all the way here just for a simple break from his everyday life. No, he wanted to experience the life that you lived as an actress. 

You snort. “That’s what I thought, but the rest of the guests wanted to stay behind. They said they didn’t want to be spoiled at all, which I can respect, but—”

“I think it’s a waste of a day,” Choso shrugs. “To finally get the chance to see what happens right before your eyes, and to miss out on that opportunity because you don’t want to be spoiled. Knowing about one episode won’t kill me.”

His candor sparks interest in you as you nod your head, processing his words. “What do you do for work, Choso?”

“I work from home as an IT,” Choso says. 

“What?” you guffaw. “You wrote a twenty-thousand word entry and you’re only working in IT? That’s a waste of talent.”

“I’m hoping to find something better at some point,” he tilts his head. “I don’t plan on staying in the field for too long. Though, I am good with computers.”

“Sorry,” you apologize, not initially aware about how your statement sounded. “I didn’t mean for what I said to come off so hard, but you definitely have some talent and I don’t want you to leave it to rot. We need a lot of writers within this industry. We need to keep the ideas flowing.”

Choso didn’t come here to network his way into a better life. He always felt like writing was a hobby that he had come to develop over the years after indulging himself in fandom culture. He loved writing, but also feared it. Feared the ideas inside of his head and how people would perceive his ideas. How people just couldn’t see past the wrongs of a character, never being able to tell past fiction and reality anymore— it scared him. However, he did dream of them coming to life. This was his opportunity to do so, but he didn’t want it to seem like that’s why he submitted his fic. He wanted it to garner attention, but only to win. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “I understand what you meant. I guess… I never really thought of myself as becoming a writer. Like, yeah, the idea came to my mind, but I was always afraid.”

“I know this is easier said than done,” you stop, your tone getting serious as your voice drops low. “Especially coming from me who’s been working in the industry for the majority of my life, but fear is one of the biggest things to hold you back in life. It’s the one thing that the majority of people let control them. I let it control me for part of mine.”

One thing your father instilled in you was fear. The moment you stepped into the limelight, he wanted you to take certain precautions. Fame could be detrimental to a person and having seen the many scandals through limitless magazines and news stations, he didn’t want you to fall victim to Hollywood. Limited interviews, chaperoned events— he did what a father was supposed to. He kept you safe, but his love knew no bounds and it started to hover. 

When footage of you smoking at sixteen was released, you were under lock and key as you could only go to set and straight back home with him. He kept you under his immediate scrutiny that had you rigid and stunted for it all. “Do you want to die?”

He would fill your mind with these drastic fears, always thinking of the worst. “Do you know what nicotine could do to you? It could ruin your lungs and give you cancer, then you’ll die!”

As an adolescent, you wanted to live vicariously and do what other kids your age did. You didn’t want to lose your childhood because of all these rules as a child actress. Why couldn’t you have both? So, you’d roll your eyes and when your father would least expect it, you’d sneak again, in hopes that this time you wouldn’t get caught.

Then, you turned eighteen and it seemed like all of your father’s fears were right. People were so quick to taint your image because of the boundaries you had set over your own body. It was as if you had no autonomy, no right in what you had to say over yourself as people labeled you all sorts of names— prudish bitch, whore, slut. Whatever name in the book that they could throw at you. 

Finally did you cage yourself in, locking yourself away from the outside world because it had gotten to you. Your father would always look at you in a certain way afterwards, his eyes twinkling as if to say, I told you so. 

Choso can’t help but wonder where that pretty little head of yours has gone, watching you silently as your mind drifts off as you let out a sigh. “My advice is to let that fear go and take what you want by the handle. You have real potential in you, and if you can find your way to make what you love your living, I say go for it. Especially when you have someone under your belt who you can take advantage of.”

You throw him a wink with your last sentence, the corner of your lips curving upwards before leading him to set. “Now, let’s go before I get yelled at for being late.”

You are an experience. That’s what Choso tells himself at the end of the day when he’s back inside of his hotel room, your golden bracelet in hand as he’s underneath the thick comforters as the air conditioner runs icy cold. It glimmers underneath the moonlight as he runs his thumb over it, heavy eyelids that taunt him, telling him to go to sleep. 

And while he soon succumbs to it, you’re an anxious mess rummaging through your belongings as you can’t find the sentimental piece anywhere. You’ve shot text messages out, asking anyone if they’ve seen it, but to no avail. Your mind wanders back to this morning— Choso. That quick glimmer before his hands were shoved in his pocket, but as quick as the thought came, you were twice as fast to dismiss it. 

That voice of your father comes back to mind, him calling you a naive little girl before accepting the role as Beatrice Martin. It comes back to haunt you, questioning why you’re so quick to dismiss a stranger. And you know that deep down, your father is right. You’re still that naive, optimistic little girl. 

DAY THREE

A habit you had developed over the years was fiddling with your bracelet. The thin gold chain dangling on your wrist as you twisted it around in efforts to keep you comfortable. Now that it’s gone, the habit you had worked to stop has returned, but this time in search of the same piece of jewelry. Scratching at your wrist while you still keep a smile on your face. You look out the window, your eyes transfixed with nothing as the moving vehicle blurs everything. Haibara glances back at you, worry etched in his mind, but he’s already asked you if you were fine once. He knows that he’ll push the limit if he asks again. 

So, when he’s in front of the hotel, he keeps on that bright smile as he parks the vehicle, “We’re here, ma’am.”

His smile falters when you don’t correct him for using the term ma’am, lips quivering as you climb out and walk past, only muttering out a weak, “thank you.”

Get yourself together, you chastise yourself. It’s just a bracelet. Just breathe. 

It’s like a switch goes off inside of you when Choso appears, cutting out your worries as your legs move towards him. You force yourself not to worry, your eyes twinging in faux happiness as your voice gets chirpy, a few octaves higher than normal when you greet him and pull him in for a hug. “I hope you’re ready for the day!”

“Uhhh, yeah,” Choso fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. “I think I am. Still not sure about being filmed, but I think I’ll get used to it.”

“If you’re still having second thoughts, I can talk to the camera crew and work something out,” you say. “We can keep the footage to a minimum.”

“No, no, no!” Choso shakes his head. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You won’t,” you say, pulling out your phone from your purse. “I’ll message them right now and see if—”

Choso immediately reaches out for you, grabbing your wrist tightly to stop you. It was a subconscious movement on his behalf, not aware of what he was doing before it’s too late. It catches him by surprise as it does you. And he hates how you’re looking at him, eyes widened as you pull yourself out of his grasp, Haibara about to intervene. “I—I am— I’m so sorry. I just… It’s fine if they record. I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” you breathe, voice low as it cracks towards the end. “It’s fine.” It sounds like you’re more so trying to convince yourself that. “Let’s just get going before we’re late.”

The tension in the car eased the moment the two of you were led out, the period of silence being a heavy relief as you hopped out of your side and let out a deep breath. You have your hair out today, letting your curls free in the unrelenting wind that blows it out of the perfectly curated shape it was in. You have to hold your hair up in order for the stray strands to twirl its way into your eyes, careful on your feet in the heels you’re wearing today. The skirt of your floral maxi dress blows through the wind as your hand casts a shadow over your face. Oh, how Choso wishes he could have captured the moment on camera at just how pretty you are, feeling like he never says it enough. You make him feel inadequate how you manage to always shine bright. 

“Whew,” you huff. “It’s windy today.”

Your heels click when you’re faced with Choso. “The camera men are ready. You’re good to head on in, now?”

When Choso nods, you smile and hold out your hand for him. He stares at it for a few seconds before understanding what the simple gesture means. His heart beat skyrockets when he fixes his hand into yours, fingers intermingling with each other’s as you take the lead. He, however, holds open the door for you, trying to fix the erratic pace within his chest as he enters the establishment with you. You lean into him, your grip tightening. “Don’t worry about anything. Try not to focus on the cameras too much and just look at me. It’ll be a bit easier that way.”

Listening to your advice had put him at ease for the majority of the time as the two of you had started the day with brunch, simple conversations that ran smoothly. All throughout, you kept close proximity to him as the two of you ventured through California on two feet, bringing him around shops he found interest in and other places. 

Choso feels at such an ease that he forgets all about the camera crew that’s trailing around the two of them, following their every move. With your fingers intertwined with his, it set him at ease that he got lost in a train of thought. You had to nudge him back to reality for his eyes to flicker back on you as he let out a, “hm?”

“You didn’t hear a word I said,” you laugh. 

“I’m sorry,” his face heats up. You shake your head, fanning it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you sigh. “I was just telling you that there’s this spot that’s really pretty. If you ever decide to move here and bring your partner, this is a good place to go to.”

“Okay,” Choso nods. The sun is starting to set as the two of you are brought to this spot deep within the park. It’s secluded around this time as the sky starts to darken. You bring him over to a bench, bending down to adjust the straps of your heels. Taking them off momentarily, you stretch out your feet as you exhale. “If I had any common sense, I would’ve worn sneakers.”

“At least you know for next time,” Choso shrugs.

“Yeah,” you say, pursing out your lips. There’s a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as the heat of day simmers down to a calming cool. It’s tranquil as you shut your eyes for a moment, taking it all in. Except, Choso, however. He’s staring off into space before he blurts out, “Y’know, I’ve never been in a relationship.”

It takes you out of your trance, your head tilting as you look at him in curiosity. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, that was random, but I was just thinking about it and I’m grateful that my first one is with someone I deeply admire, even if it’s not real.”

“Can I ask why?” you hum. “Why haven't you been out on a date before?”

Choso squirms, eyes diverting away from yours. “I can’t give you a specific answer, but I would say that deep down, it’s my fears controlling me— yet again.”

You nudge him. “We got to work on that. You’re a handsome guy. I’m pretty sure that someone would love to be with you.”

“Yeah, but what if we only end up hurting each other?”

“I’m afraid that’s part of life,” you sigh. “Sometimes people hurt other people, whether we mean to do it intentionally or not. It’s a good thing that you recognize that now, so when you actually find that someone, you make that conscious effort.”

“What if I never find that someone?” Choso asks. “What if I never find someone who makes me happy?”

“Then you find happiness within yourself.” Your eyes sparkle as the wind picks up, blowing your hair into your face. The cameras pan in on the both of you, noticing how Choso’s eyes are glued to you in such longing. Brown eyes that are hyper-fixated on you. His eyebrows crinkle together in amazement at how you always seem to say the right things. “How do you do that? How do you always know what to say?”

You shake your head, your bottom lip juts out. “I don’t always know, but… some of it’s just recycled advice.”

Your laugh is contagious, bringing him to laughter at your statement as you stand up. Shortly afterwards, the camera men start to pack up their stuff, bidding you their farewells as they leave ahead of the two of you. You’re both still sitting on the bench despite the nipping cold that bites at your skin. The conversation continues as you start to tell Choso the worst dates you’ve been on in efforts to not make him feel so down about his lack of experience. 

When it gets too dark, you call Haibara to meet you at the park. With thirty minutes left to spare as the two of you start walking down the trail again, you begin to grow more curious about the boy. “You’ve had your first kiss before, right?”

“Yeah,” Choso scoffs. “I’m not completely fearful of relationships.”

You throw your hands up in defense. “I was just wondering—” Nudging him, you give him a sly smile. “—But look at you. The playboy.”

“I’m not a player, just… they never turned into dates.”

“Because of you or them?”

He has to take a moment to ponder on it. “A bit of both.”

“Mmm,” you shake your head in disagreement. “I think it’s a bit more you.”

His squirming is your answer, your laughter filling the silent air as you both stand in the parking lot now. You find another bench to sit on, Choso joins you as another wave of silence crosses by. Your eyes are on him dangerously as they squint over at him. There’s barely any cars parked, only the park ranger vehicle across the street, so you’re not fearful of any possible paparazzi. Still, you try to look through the green tufts of bushes and trees, trying to check any spot they could be hiding before you lean closer to Choso. “Let me kiss you.”

Eyes widening, his body stiffens up completely at your suggestion. “What?”

“Let me show you what it’ll feel like when someone you care about truly kisses you,” you suggest. Your head tilts to the side as you start to sway. His pupils turn to hearts, brightening up at the proposition as he faintly nods. An ‘okay’ falling from his lips before he’s inching closer instinctively. You’re meeting him halfway, noses touching before the lips. Your breath against each other the only semblance of heat provided as you look into his eyes. They’re glossy as they flicker from yours to your lips. Before you could have any second thoughts, Choso takes the opportunity.

Crashing into you, his teeth clash with yours and you have to push him back to gain more control, physically telling him to ease down a bit. His body tenses as you inch closer to him, pulling him forth and getting him to relax. He gains more confidence, a hand coming to pull at your waist in a need. You instigate it further with the swipe of your tongue, deepening the kiss much further than anticipated. Both arms snaked around your waist, your chest is pressed against Choso’s as a hum vibrates off his chest. 

It should’ve signaled you to detach yourself, but no. What does, however, are the bright headlights of the dark vehicle pulling in and the steady hum of the engine as Haibara parks in front of the two of you. Pulling away, you stare into Choso’s dilated pupils, seeing how his chest rises and falls. Silently, you stand up. “We should go.”

You can feel Haibara’s curious eyes on you, the both of you, as he holds the door open for the two of you. The car ride is silent the moment you step in it. Choso’s mindsets ablaze, a course of fire lighting up the path in his brain as he taps his feet against the vehicle’s floor. You, however, remain indifferent as you look through the window, for once, not needing to feel for your gold bracelet. 

DAY FOUR

It’s very important to be able to differentiate fiction from reality. Choso feels that it’s true when it comes to fan fiction. The many times people have come into his inbox to complain about the content he rights for and the morality of the characters or how he made his reader to be. Hate messages made to bring him down and deter him from writing fan fiction, but he never gave in. They went on and on for days, even weeks, about the choices he made the reader take and it grew exhausting. Were they truly watching the same television show after all? The entire premise was about morally gray characters and the bullshit decisions they made, and suffering the consequences after it. Why did the reader need to be someone standing on moral high grounds during the apocalypse? 

‘Oh, I would never do that as a reader.’ ‘Oh, you mischaracterized me here in this fic. I’m not a bitch in real life.’ ‘Are we watching the same show because Yamaza would NEVER!!’

He had endured it all. But, personally, his favorites were the one telling him to commit suicide. He’d run to his mutuals quickly to make fun of those who hid behind anons, chatting together in their private discord servers about them and their hypocrisies. Then, he’d run back on Tumblr to delete them because he’s gotten so used to the nasty climate that he no longer addresses things that aren’t detrimental. Unfortunately for them, they’re not one of them. 

There’s a media literacy crisis, where people don’t understand the plot devices of antagonists and their purposes. And if they do, it’s because a conventionally attractive actor or actress plays them in the film. Truthfully, however, they don’t understand. They believe the moment something is conveyed in darkness and negativity is the creator saying that they endorse those actions, reading or watching something purely for the enjoyment without really and truly dissecting what they’ve just consumed. That’s why it’s so easy for Choso to dismiss people like that who try to question his moral standing. He knows what he stands for. He knows that he’s a good person. He doesn’t need a stranger online to dictate whether or not he is. 

However, he finds his mind slowly deteriorating, mixing up what’s real and what’s fake when it comes to you. You were wrong for kissing him. How could you fill his mind up with these false illusions, showing him how someone who cared about him would kiss him? Were you insinuating that you did— that, in actuality, you wanted more? You after all did let things escalate, having him pull you closer, deepening the kiss along with it. 

You had confused the poor boy, infiltrating his mind with ideas as he started to yearn for more. He started to desire you in a way that seemed to exceed what was already there for you, lighting a forest fire that you alone could not contain. 

Choso wasn’t just gifted with the written word. He was also exceptional with a computer. He liked to call himself tech savvy, a hacker sounded too juvenile in his opinion. His position paid him a decent amount and it led him to live comfortably, so he never complains. He can take off many days and not have to worry about his bills, but he preferred working on a steady schedule. It was easy to jump from one monitor to the next anyway, making writing fan fiction and assuring that websites ran smoothly was a simple thing he could multitask within hours of the day. 

However, he had to admit that he never utilized his skill to the full potential. Not until now, where he felt like it was a dire need to. Finding your location just as simple as a quick google search, quickly climbing out of bed to throw on some joggers and a hoodie. He didn’t think Haibara would agree with his choices, so he wasted thirty dollars on a trip, hopping out of the car and standing outside of the gated community. Checking his phone, he skimmed through the pictures and screenshots, typing in the code before the sidegate opened and he was led in. 

He kept his head down as much as he could, peeking up at the buildings to count down the numbers. It took some time where he nearly took the wrong turn, but it seemed to be a blessing in disguise when he finally did find your exact location. Ten o’ clock at night, the moon shines down on him as he tries to find a concealed spot to stand in. A light is on, letting him know that you’re awake as he follows the shine of it. 

He can’t get a clear view of you, blinds that block the way as well as your white sheer curtains. However, they’re not securely shut, where if stands off to the side, he can get a clear vision of you. With your phone in hand, you’re oblivious to the pair of lurking eyes that stand outdoors. Your gaze fixated on the small screen in front of you as you checked your calendar for tomorrow. Halfway into the week, tomorrow there are still some plans fixed for Choso and the other winners as it’ll be game day. Another day filled with cameras on you as they video the experience. The day after, it will be the day before the last, a farewell dinner hosted for the contestants’ goodbyes. The last day, their goodbye remarks as they have it to themselves for the most part. They can make last minute trips if needs be before their designated drivers are assigned to drop them off back at the airport. 

You set your phone down on the dresser next to you as you stand at the door of your bedroom. A yawn drags out of you as you stretch, pushing your chest forward as you raise your hand up wide. You know what would calm you down and get you ready for bed— a steaming, hot shower. You pull off your top from over your head, revealing your simple black bra from underneath as you aim for the laundry basket, the shirt landing inside perfectly. 

You weren’t ever much of a clean freak, especially when you were constantly on the go. You find your towel resting on your dresser near the window, reaching to get it when you see something in the corner of your eye. Was that a flash? You fix yourself to get lower, trying to see if your eyesight was playing games with you as you shift the curtain to the side, peaking through the blinds. 

Cursing to himself, Choso feels caught as he ducks down, pulling the hoodie over his head as he crawls on his knees. Getting out of your eye line, he squirms as he feels a tightness in his pants. Subconsciously, his hands go to hold his length, palming at it through the soft material before the coast is clear and you’re no longer suspicious. Unfortunately, when you’re leaving your room and heading to the shower, the glass is blurred and there’s no way he could get a clear shot from there. So, he calls it a night.

It’s fine anyway, because when he’s back in his hotel room, ridding himself of his joggers and hoodie, cock hard and prominent in his hand, he’s got the perfect shot of you to get himself off to. He squeezes, hissing as his hips arch from the bed. Tip leaking of precum as he decides to himself that you’d look prettier naked. 

DAY FIVE

There’s heavy tension in the air. Something so suffocating that the sharpest knife wouldn’t be able to slice through it. Though, you just believe that it’s your anxiety eating at you during this time of year. It is habitual of it to hit you now. Unlike the dresses you’ve been typically sporting on the events with Choso, today you’ve decided to keep it simple with a pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Your hair combed in one and perfectly gelled back, the only thing seemingly out of place are the tendrils that hang in front of your ears. 

Part of you think it’s the growing exhaustion that’s been making you feel like shit lately. You figure with the way you’ve yawned for the third time in thirty minutes as your back slouches in your seat, the greasy pizza half eaten as your eyes are so close to shutting. It’s the deep chuckle of Sukuna that livens you back up, him sitting on your left as he leans forward. “Are you sure it’s right that you fall asleep next to me? You might wake up as a brand new person.”

Nudging him in his rib cage, he barely moves a muscle under all of that muscle. He smiles, revealing his sharp canines. You glare up at him, not faltering to his piercing crimson eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Someone always says that before they all looked fucked up,” he booms in laughter before playfully pushing at your shoulder. You know he only means it in love and jest. “Wake up. You’re the last person I expected falling asleep at festivities. You’re stealing my job.”

“I know,” you groan, straightening your posture as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “I think I need a break.”

“Don’t we fuckin’ all,” Geto agrees, chiming into the conversation. “But we’ve got a long way to go, so suck it up.”

And you try to for the most part, ordering a few drinks to get your blood pumping and the night to go on even faster. It’s a nice evening that you get to spend with your colleagues and their contestants, dragging along Choso to whichever game seems the most interesting before scoring a shitload of tickets. You impress him with how tactical and intricate you are, eyeballing the machines as your tongue sticks out as you try to drop the ball at the right moment. You’re a very competitive person, he’s come to learn, pushing him out the way when he misses a shot before showing him how it's done. You become so lively as the neon lights flash around the dark ceilings, bouncing off the walls and onto you. Those few drinks really worked. 

You throw yourself in Choso’s arms, winning yet again another game as tickets start rolling out. You had made a bet with Sukuna and his partner that you and Choso could gain more tickets than them and you’d be damned if you lost to that jackass. You loved Sukuna, but he’d constantly tease you for your loss. This time, you wanted to be the one to do it. 

“Yuh,” you grunt, voice rasping towards the end. “We’re so beating their asses!”

You try to pull away from Choso’s grasp, but he holds onto you tightly, seemingly refusing to let go. It nearly reminds you of the short incident with your phone and how he was so eager to snatch it from your grasp. It alarms you, eyes widening as you push at his chest. “Choso, let go.”

He falls from his trance, glossy eyes that die down its euphoria as he lets you go. Tensing up like he did last time and immediately becoming apologetic, “Shit, I—I’m sorry.”

You’re really hoping you didn’t lead him astray with that kiss. Taking a step back, you give him a side glance before turning on your heel. “Yeah, I’m gonna go get a drink. I’ll be right back.”

Heading to the food station, you spot Geto sitting down on a stool next to the counter. One arm over the filthy marble top, his back is turned towards you as he has a slushie in the next hand. You grab a seat next to him, the scraping of it alarming the man as he looks back. “Oh, hey! Are you having fun yet?”

“Yeah,” you hum with uncertainty. It’s his key detection that something’s wrong. Eyebrows furrowing, he’s shaking his head and you’re grateful you ran into him of all people. You’ve been needing to voice out your concerns. “No, you’re not. What’s up?”

He spins around his chair, his entire body facing you. Before he could let you speak, he’s already belting out your main concern. “Is it— what’s his name… Choso?”

“How’d you know?” The look that Geto gives you makes your stomach drop, grimacing as you slouch forward and silently groan. 

“If I’m being honest, (Your Name),” he starts. “His entry was the start of it. I get it some fans are really dedicated to their works and what they commit to, but if you read over his entry, it was highly fixated on you. 

You exhale. You had taken notice of that, but like everything else about Choso, you had decided to ignore it, paying so much attention to everything else and impressed with his dedication that you didn’t once find it alarming. 

“Not only that, but… Just an hour ago before we went back to the arcade, did you not notice how he was staring down Sukuna?” Geto continues to point out. “I don’t blame you if you didn’t. You were about to fall asleep, but he was giving him murder eyes.”

Geto wanted to say more, but he didn’t want you to feel like you were dumb for not noticing the signs from earlier. “But, what did you want to talk about?”

You were kind of hesitant, not wanting to feel like a complete fool for not mentioning it earlier, but better now than never, right? “You’re right. He is kind of… off?”

You console in Geto, mentioning how Choso tried snatching your phone away from you and just a couple of minutes ago, where he wouldn’t let you go. You noted your missing bracelet and how you couldn’t find it, telling Geto that you suspected it to be him, but still holding your doubts. “You are a messy person,” he noted. 

Your mind flashes to last night, but you thought you were pushing it too far now. There wasn’t any way that he could know your location. You didn’t want to mention the kiss because you can already see your faults in that. You didn’t need to be told that that was a stupid decision, you’re already starting to pay for your poor choices. “I don’t know, Sug… It was like, he was in this state and he wasn’t aware of what he was doing until after.”

“Or,” Geto butts in, pointing a finger out in suggestion. “He does know and he’s trying to play it off.”

You nod. That is a possibility, you think. “But, I’ll see—”

“Speaking of the devil,” Geto comes to a stand, eyes fixed behind him before another voice speaks and calls out your name, “(Your Name), is everything all right?”

You notice it now. Turning to Choso and watching how his eyes would flicker to Geto, a darkness possessing him. You stammered on your words, trying to find the best possible excuse you could make. “I, um— Sorry, I saw Geto and…”

“Sorry, man,” Geto smiles, intervening as he steps forward. His eyes crinkle like a sly fox as he looks Choso up and down. “I didn’t mean to hog (Your Name). We just started talking and lost track of time.”

Choso’s body relaxes in understanding, but there’s still that sliver of doubt inside him as Geto walks past. Choso turns to look back, and Geto’s still looking back at him as he walks away before his eyes flicker over to you. He thought Choso wouldn’t notice it, but he saw the subtle nod. Immediately raising his suspicions, Choso’s glued to you for the rest of the night. When your phone buzzes, you’re too scared to pull it out until you’re in the comfort of your home. A message from Geto: If push comes to shove, you know I have your back, (Your Name). Only two more days left. Hopefully nothing happens.

His words give you a sliver of relief, but you should’ve remained cautious, a pair of brown eyes lurking through your bedroom window. 

DAY SIX

You wake up feeling much better the next morning, the day running smoothly on set as the majority of your scenes run smoothly. You’ve paid no mind to Choso despite his constant eye on you, never seeming bored or tiresome of watching you all day and following you like a lost puppy. Sleeping has given you some clarity in what’s led you here, dissecting his actions when you woke up in the morning and coming to terms with your ignorance and your naivety. As much as legal action crossed your mind, you don’t have any substantial evidence to detain him, only his weird behavior to speak on verbatim. 

Nonetheless, it becomes easier throughout the day as your schedule is busy, never getting much alone time with him, minus small breaks and your lunch period. It isn’t until the day gets darker and the set is being cleared do you worry more, as the farewell dinner is in a couple of hours. In a tight-fitted silk dress, the royal blue looks perfect against your skin tone as you walk down the steps from your front door, the white shawl draped over you, providing you warmth as it grows chilly. The silver clutch in your hand sparkles as you reach inside of it to check the time. Haibara should be here any minute now. 

And just like clockwork do you see the bright headlights shine as he turns the corner. When he parks the car, you don’t give him a second to jump out, rushing to pull open the door handle and jump inside with a giggle. He grunts as he lets go of his, slapping the dashboard. “Ah, darn! I forgot to switch the locks before I parked.”

“You’re getting slow, Yu,” you smile. “I couldn’t wait any longer. You had me standing in the cold.”

“You could’ve always waited inside,” he remarks snidely, putting the car in reverse before pulling off. Haibara puts on a station that he knows you like, and you immediately start humming along to the music as he’s fixated on the road ahead of him. As your mind drifts off, you begin to wonder. “Yu?” his humming being your indicator to continue. “What’d you think about Choso? You enjoyed chauffeuring him around?”

Haibara hums, hesitant on his response as he looks through the rearview mirror. He’s seen a few of your exchanges with Choso, and they were all enough to set an unease within his stomach. Of the couple years that he’s been working with you, he’s come to learn that you’re really down-to-earth and sweet. With someone who’s grown up in the limelight, he first believed that he would get the exact opposite of that.

He’s had his fair share in the media, and you still withheld some things from it in regards to your father after returning back to the big screen. There were still some things that you were working through and that was fine. What he’s come to learn about you, though, is that you were still trying to hold onto some semblance of living an ordinary life. You took on this opportunity to help a fan, yes, to open up their horizons and have them utilize you as a connection to pursue any dream they had. However, you had crossed a line.

Watching you kiss Choso, it set a weird feeling in his stomach, but he also believed that you knew what you were doing— whatever that was. Keeping his eyes on the road, Haibara let out a heavy sigh. “He’s…”

“Be honest, Haibara,” you tilt your head, looking at him through the mirror. He exhales, staring back at the road. He clenches the steering wheel tightly as he shrugs, “I’ll just say that I’ll be glad when it’s only you I have to chauffeur in two days.”

At the dinner, you cling onto the shall, your feet tapping on the floor as everyone’s waiting for their entrees. Reaching for your glass, you twirl the straw with your tongue, sipping on your strawberry banana smoothie. You’ve barely spoken to Choso, feeling his eyes graze you the entire evening at your silence. It’s stifling.

“Are you ready to head back?” you try to ease the air around you.

Choso tilts his head. “I’m having mixed feelings. It’s a nice environment here, but I miss the comfort of my bed.”

You nod, continuing to sip your drink. Choso’s piercing brown eyes watching the way your lips pucker around the plastic. You retract almost immediately, clearing your throat. “How long is your flight back?”

“Around seven hours, I believe,” Choso contemplates. “So, it’ll be a long while.”

“Hopefully, you have some things to occupy your time,” you chuckle. “I know I need a few things to keep myself from getting antsy on long flights.”

“Don’t worry,” Choso smirks. “I got a few things that’ll surely keep me busy.”

With the tone of his voice, you’re not sure what he means by it. Maybe he’s just being playful or he knows something you don’t. You can’t quite determine if it’s your paranoia feeling this way, but you fall silent once more until the waitress comes back with a few extra hands as she sets down everyone’s plate. Reaching for your knife and fork, the back of Choso’s hand grazes the back of yours and you subconsciously stiffen up, but you choose to ignore it as you start to slice through your steak. 

Chatter starts up, livening the tables as your eyes brighten up as everyone enjoys their time. You’re in a heavy fit of laughter from a joke Nobara told everyone. Your face heats up as a fork in another spoonful of food in your mouth when you feel a hand against your thigh. You choke on your food, spitting it on your plate and calling for attention. Everyone’s eyes are on you now as Geto has his eyes on you first before they flicker to Choso. “Are you okay, (Your Name)?”

You nod, not wanting to draw too much attention as you nudge away Choso’s hand before they can travel any higher. Your heart starts racing as you try to control your breathing, your eyes watering. “Y–Yeah, I—” you clear out your throat again. “—I’m fine. Just, food nearly went down the wrong pipe.”

“Are you sure—”

“She said she’s fine,” Choso butts in, his hand returning to its spot on your thigh, aiming higher as his grip tightens. You clench your legs together, throwing him a look. 

“I don’t need you to speak for me,” you frown, your hand reaching for his wrist and dragging it away, the action more apparent to everyone now. Sukuna intervenes now.

“Hey,” he throws a threatening glare at Choso. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I suggest it stops now if you want to get back home safely.”

The two men have a stare off, Choso clenching his jaw as he doesn’t want to back down. A vein stands prominent on his forehead, his face heating up as his stance comes to falter, breaking eye contact with Sukuna first. He knows who to pick his battles with, and Sukuna isn’t one of them. Shoulders falling, he pushes himself from out of the seat as the legs scrape loudly against the floor. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, but trudging out of the restaurant. 

Choso calls for Haibara earlier than expected, alarming the man when he pulls up in front of the restaurant to see Choso sitting down on a bench, clutching onto himself as his eyes wander before spotting him. He could only jump to conclusions and say something happened. He could feel the thickening tension in the air as Choso hurried inside, pulling at the door handle before Haibara could shut it himself. 

Curiosity piqued Haibara as he hopped into the driver’s seat and glanced through the rearview mirror. A soft hum leaving his lips as he tries to decipher whether or not it’s a smart choice to ask. “So, how was dinner?”

He watches him, constantly glancing through the rearview mirror and the road. Choso looks in his direction before averting eye contact. The man shrugs as his head hits the window. “Nothing special. Didn’t feel like being there anymore.”

Something told Haibara that was all he was going to get from him, but surely, you had much more to say. When Haibara arrived in front of the hotel, he didn’t even bother to hop out the front seat as Choso was already clutching onto the door handle, jumping out of the vehicle before it could even fully stop. Haibara didn’t feel guilty when he couldn’t say, Have a good night. 

Inwardly, Choso was fuming. He wanted to do something more. He wanted to say more, but Sukuna was a hulking man that would have his ass handed to him in a matter of seconds. The moment he entered his hotel room, he was pacing around it. Stepping over his suitcases and clothes that still lay across the room haphazardly, he clenches his fists, nails digging into the palm of his hands. How could you embarrass me like this? How could you let them embarrass me like that? Did all of this just mean nothing to you?

Whenever Choso didn’t know what to do with his overwhelming feelings, he tended to write. Like clockwork, his body moved for his carry on bag, unzipping it to reach for the device as he pushed away a pile on the bed. He squinted through the bright screen as he opened up a new document and cracked his knuckles. His chest felt tight as he started breathing heavily, and before he could think about exactly what he wanted to write about, his fingers padded away on the keyboard. 

DAY SEVEN

You hadn’t seen Choso after last night’s event, and you were grateful for it. There was supposed to be a send-off that you would attend, but after hearing about the mishap, you had been given the okay to miss out on it. You had decided to go to set early instead, practicing your lines despite having them all memorized as you were cooped up inside your trailer. 

In the small couch, your head pulls to the side as you lean against your hand. You let out a sigh as you’re coming to grow accustomed to the missing piece of jewelry. Instead, you start gnawing on the pendant around your neck as your legs are hiked up on the couch as you hold the stack of papers. Comfortable in your spot, the buzz of a phone alarms you out of your concentration as you reach to pick it up. An unknown number pops on the screen and your face drops when you read the short overview of the message:

It’s Choso. And before you think about blocking me, I have one more thing for you to read, then you can go ahead and never hear from me again.

You should really do it, go and block him. Your finger hovering over the three dots as you search for the five-letter word. However, another buzz vibrates through your hand as another notification from him pops up— a document labeled ChosoYN.docx. And against your better judgment, you tap out of the options and click on it. And against your better judgment, you read through all three pages. 

In another life, you would be mine and you would be happy with me. Oh, those days would be glorious ones as my pale skin would traverse up your golden. In the silky sheets of our king-sized bed, your body would lay pliant as your short nightgown would rise up above your hips. The sun would kiss your beautiful skin, but not as tender as I would. 

My tongue would drag over you, my spit painting over you with liquid diamonds and only accentuating your beauty. My love, you’re a marvelous living statue that the world doesn’t deserve, only I do. 

You’d call me your husband, my hands pulling at your hips to meet me closer. Goosebumps rising against your skin, you look so pretty when you first wake up that I have no choice but to have you. Ten digits that run down the expanse of you, teasing in all the right places as I am so close to your sweetness. Your cunt my forever prize that no one else can indulge in. You’re pretty in the laced pink panties I had bought for you, a gift to signify my undying love, to soon be ridden of as I pull it down your thighs. 

You’d drip for me, an endless ocean that I’d thankfully drown in as the center of said underwear is stained in your love. Your love for me. You look at me with those pretty eyes, silently begging for more before the soft plea falls from your lips itself. “Please…” you’d say with sultry, plump lips that’d be wetted and I have no other choice but to dip down and give you a sweet kiss. Tongues dancing together, the fervor we share is too much yet never enough. Your back arching off the bed, covered breasts pressing into my chest as your erect nipples poke through the thin fabric.

Your glossy eyes shut as you indulge yourself into me, your moans singing in a beautiful melody that the birds could never rival. And I could only burst in pride, being the only man that can make you feel this way. Arms wrapped around your body, holding onto your hips with a secure grip, only you could make a man ever so needy. In only the thin fabric of my loose boxers, my erection presses against you, alleviating only some of the friction you’re hoping to feel. My tip leaks with pre, staining the dark pair of underwear as I continue to press into you so shamelessly. 

I leave you with your lips swollen, nibbling on the bottom lip before completely retracting myself from you, your eyes dilated in a heavy lust-blown haven that I could swim in. I can only pepper more on your skin as you giggle, arms wrapping around my neck before I feel the painful press of your nails digging into my skin. And again, “Choso, please…”

I could never truly depart from you for every second of the way, my lips making an invisible path down from your lips to your neck, sucking on that sweet spot that has you mewling in milliseconds. So high-pitched they are as you grow ever so needy when I leave, your tender breasts getting more love as I adore on them. And truly, I adore them, pulling down the straps of your dress and them falling out one by one. Pretty dark nipples that point right at me, calling my name so gently that I salivate. My tongue lulls out as I lean forward, taking each of your breasts into my mouth. Your back is arching off the bed as you only feel euphoria. You pull me closer, nails digging deeper and daring to break skin. I’d love you to, I’d love to have your marks shown off as a sign of your possession over me. There’s no shame in immense love.

But, lower and lower I go, kissing at your tummy, licking into your navel before that delectable cunt shines like a treasure. It glistens like porcelain as the sun continues to watch us in all of our glory. It’s the finest piece of China that I sometimes regret ruining, but never regret loving. A teasing thumb presses down on your clit, eliciting a whine from your lips and a twitch from your legs in attempts to trap me there. 

“You just love to tease me, don’t you?” you say in a needy breath, eyes hooded as you peer down at me. “Gosh, Choso…”

“You’ll get what you want soon enough,” I respond. “Don’t I always?”

“Mphm,” you hum. “After your torture, yes.”

You always know how to make me laugh, a breathy chuckle leaving my lips before I press down on that fat pleasure point. Hips rising from the bed, I have to use one arm to hold you down, pressing my weight down to hold one of your legs from moving as the other kicks out. Rubbing tandem circles in you, I watch from below in how you writhe and moan for me, and only me. Your slick leaks from your honey hole, painting you forever in a gloss as I have you like this. 

Oh, how I delve in this— the sweet torture you love to complain about. How I love to slowly take care of you, giving every ounce of your body the love and care it truly needs to survive. I put you in a haze that leaves your eyes shutting and your head twisting and turning as your stomach churns for more, never truly satisfied. But you will be, you’ll always be when you’re with me. Dipping past your clit, my thumb runs through your folds, making your juices bubble as I make it dance around. 

Your hands reach down to tangle inside of my hair and then caressing my face to pull me out of paradise to bring me to heaven. A silent yet forceful coax as your fingers tangle in my dark hair in efforts to get more. My impatient angel you are. That I am, too, however. My cock stirring inside my underwear as I press myself into the bed, an exhale leaving me as I finally hear your pleas and dip forward. 

My lips pucker, a wet and chaste kiss against your clit as one finger dives inside of you. A stretch sweet, but not addicting like my cock’s as my digit enters you, warmed by your honeyed walls. You only make it worse. Me rutting into the bed, making me feel like I’m back in more youthful years. Your moans are more drawn out through the air, humming out in pleasure as your eyes shut in careless bliss as your fingers still are still knotted inside my hair. They pull me closer to you as I suckle on the tender nub that has you singing out my name in a lustful symphony. 

My digits thrust in a languid dance that conjures up these addicting sounds, gathering your slick in a gluttonous effort to take what’s rightfully mine from you. With the swipe of my tongue, I can taste it and the vibrations of my satisfaction run deep through your body as I press my fingers further inside. They bottom out, curling inside as your hips buck upwards. They twist and contort in the right directions, having you grind upwards in attempts for more. And I give and give, picking up the pace as I only want to take and take. 

I feel everything that’s you. Nose burrowing inside of your curled bush, inhaling your raw scent that only makes me crave you more ferociously. Fingers that are sopping wet as your juices drip down to my wrists and stain the warm yellow beneath us. Your wetness can be heard, the sound of your pussy loud inside of your shared bedroom alongside your whimpers and wanton moans. Head thrown back as those butterflies control your body, flying down to your stomach. Your legs twitch as your cunt pulsates around my digits, your voice squeaking as you gasp. “Choso! ‘M about’ta cum!”

“Go on, pretty girl,” my voice reverberated against you. “Give me what’s mine.”

Fingers leaving you to hold onto your legs, pulling you closer to my face, my tongue dips inside of your heat as it drags your orgasm out of you. You’re calling my name out as your fingers press into my scalp as I hum in between your legs, your thighs tensing up as your milky cum paints my tongue. Your essence is an elixir, rejuvenating me back to life as I clean you up, making your cunt sparkle the moment I drag myself away. A thin web of spit breaking once I sit up.

It’s apparent now. My heavy need for you as I’m on my knees against the bed. You blink away the haze, chest rising and falling as your beautiful pupils finally look up at me. An exhausted smile beaming from your face as they beckon me over. I fall to you, taking your lips in mine again. You can taste yourself, taste just how good you are as your love for me is written all over it. 

Together, we hum in a dire need for more as your hips leave the bed and meet my erection. Devious little fingers of yours that dip to cup at my hardened cock, palming at my covered length like a little minx and causing me to grind into your hand. You giggle when I pull away, knowing exactly what you’re doing, knowing that I’m putty in your hands. Oh, how you have full control over me. 

And I let you.

I let you take out my cock, revealing it to the cold touch of the air. Massively hard inside of your hand as you run the palm of it down the undersides, it still leaks the translucent mess of precum. You stop to hold it at the base, your thumb running down the thick vein that runs down it. “You love to withhold what you want from me. Doesn’t it in pain you?”

“It never pains me to please you first.” I hold no shame in my undying devotion for you, my twinkling brown pupils that swallow you up in the very moment before my lips are back on yours once more. Grinding into your hand, it’s nearly pathetic how quickly a moan falls from me. My eyes shutting as I bite down on your bottom lip, my high-pitched whimpers rivaling yours. Your knees point to the ceiling before caging me in, legs wrapping around the expanse of my waist as you grip my length. A delicious squeeze to it before my reddened tip touches your clit. You get on me so much for withholding what’s rightfully yours, but ultimately doing the same to me as you press my length in between your folds. Your hips rolling when I pull away from you, a string of saliva follows before the band breaks. You look down, in between your legs to watch how your pussy coats my cock, feeling how I twitch against you as you only have me yearning for more. 

“Is this your payback?” is my question before I spot that sparkle in your eyes. You shrug. “Something like that.”

Finally, the tip of my length kisses your entrance, your hips arching upwards as I meet you in the middle. We sing together in harmony, moaning as I sheath myself inside of you, my hips stilling for moments before they retract. I’ve set the tone, a beautiful melody as skin slaps against skin and our breathy sounds course the room. The drill of my cock is enough to make you a delirious mess, filling the morning air with your pleasure as your pussy continues to gush out for me in a copious splendor. 

My name is a mantra, summoning something deep within me that coaxes my orgasm, but our bodies, intertwined as one move in sync as I feel how your cunt pulsates around my length. Your legs twitch, flexing and contracting before you’re rasping out my name. “Choso, I’m—”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it once more. “C’mon, give me what’s mine.”

I am completely still inside of you when my release becomes overbearing, spurting my cum deep inside of your womb as your walls try to fight back. Your eyes squint shut as your mouth falls into a perfect ‘O.’ You milk me completely while simultaneously painting my length in your milk white honey. Like a bee, I’ve come to pollinate, hoping that you’ll bear my children as I come down from my high yet never leaving your sweetness. 

And when I do, I kiss one last time for the moment before pulling away. My eyes continue to shine with my everlasting adoration for you. “I love you.”

You feel ashamed with yourself when you clench your thighs, arousal pooling in your underwear as you close out. Finally, you block him (The document is well saved on your phone).

( author's note. ) thank you so much for taking the time to read this. it's my first time writing for choso, so please tell me how i did in the comments or reblogs !

[dreamscapeee222]

(I'm new to tumblr, sorry if I'm posting in the wrong place, I hope this is ask box)

I asked you to write about the relationship between the arcane characters and the reader who is very thin due to some health problems?

(Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language)

A/n: Hello!! I did lots of research with your request so I hope my work satisfies what you had in mind ^^

You deal with health problems that affect your weight

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

She’s not the type to pry. But she notices the little things—the way you don’t finish your meals, the way you curl up a little too tightly, like you're trying to protect yourself from the world. She never asks you about it, but she always makes sure you’ve got something to eat or drink when she knows you’re struggling.

She might drop a sandwich by your side, or hand you a water bottle without saying a word. It’s just her way of saying, “I see you,” without actually saying it.

If you ever get quiet for too long, she’ll be there, sitting next to you without forcing a conversation. It’s not about pushing you to talk—it’s just her letting you know you’re not alone, even in those silent moments.

Jinx

Jinx doesn’t always understand why you’re not at your best, but she feels it. She’s a whirlwind of chaos, always trying to keep you distracted, to keep you laughing. She doesn’t always get it right, but she’s trying, you can tell by the way she keeps pulling you into her nonsense, hoping that a little of her madness will rub off on you.

But there are times when she looks at you, and the mask slips for just a second. She sees how tired you are, how empty you seem sometimes, and in those moments, she doesn’t know how to fix it. But she doesn’t turn away. “You don’t gotta do this alone, okay?” she says, voice softer than usual. It’s a rare vulnerability, the one moment where she lets down the wall and shows you she’s scared too.

She might not know what to say or do, but she’ll always bring something to make you smile—even if it’s just a little.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s the quiet type, always paying attention to the little things that others might miss. She watches you—never in a way that feels overbearing, but in a way that shows she’s aware of when something’s off.

She doesn’t press you to talk, but she’ll always offer a gentle reminder that she’s there for you—whether that’s by quietly handing you a cup of tea, leaving a snack where you can easily reach it, or making sure you have time to rest.

She never pushes, but when you catch her looking at you with those soft, patient eyes, you know she’s not going anywhere. "Take it easy,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. And for a moment, you actually believe it’s okay to slow down.

Ekko

Ekko’s the type of person who’s there without being too much. He notices when you’re pushing yourself too hard, and when he sees the signs—when you’re too quiet, when you’re too weak to do what you usually can—he’ll just quietly step in.

He won’t make a fuss, and he won’t ask you if you’re okay every five minutes. Instead, he’ll bring you a blanket when he sees you shivering, a drink when you look like you haven’t had one all day. He knows you don’t need someone to tell you what to do—you just need someone to make sure you don’t fall apart while you're doing it all.

Sometimes, he’ll sit beside you and not say a word. It’s just his presence, calm and steady, and it’s enough to make you feel like maybe everything will be okay. “You’re not alone,” he’ll say without looking at you. And it’s not just words—it’s his way of making sure you never feel like you’re fighting your battles by yourself.

Jayce

Jayce doesn’t know how to make things better when it’s you, and that frustration shows. He wants to fix things, to find the right answer, and he’s always throwing himself into research, into getting you the best treatment, the right food, whatever he thinks might help. But sometimes, it feels like he’s pushing you harder than you want, trying to make everything better without realizing that maybe what you need is just some quiet.

He doesn’t always know how to slow down, but there are times when you catch him looking at you, his expression softening when he sees the exhaustion in your eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, and for once, it doesn’t come off as a demand. It’s a plea—something raw and real in the way he says it.

When you’re too tired to argue, he’ll just stay next to you, offering comfort in his own way. It’s not perfect, but you know he’s trying, and that’s enough for now.

Viktor

Viktor doesn’t say much, but his care shows in everything he does. When he sees you struggling, he doesn’t push you to talk about it. Instead, he quietly takes action—he makes sure your space is organized, makes sure you have what you need, even when you don’t ask for it.

You won’t hear him say, “I’m here for you,” but you’ll feel it in the way he adjusts your pillow without asking, or in the way he slides a cup of tea your way without a word. He’s not the type to crowd you, but he’s always making sure you’re okay in ways that don’t demand attention.

When you do catch him looking at you, there’s a softness in his eyes—an unspoken understanding. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he’ll say quietly, but it’s not just the words that matter. It’s the way he’s already got your back without needing you to ask.

Mel

Mel is the kind of person who knows how to give space without making you feel like you’re invisible. She’s quiet, observant, and when she sees that something’s not right, she’s there—but never in a way that feels like she’s pushing you.

Her care is in the little things—the cup of tea she hands you when you’re not feeling great, the soft touch of her hand on your arm as she sits beside you, giving you time to breathe. She doesn’t expect anything from you, just that you take care of yourself in your own time.

She’ll always remind you that it’s okay to slow down, to rest. “You don’t have to do it all at once,” she’ll say, and the gentleness in her voice makes it feel like everything else can wait. She’ll be there, waiting, until you’re ready to come back to the world.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[priyajoyyy]

Glinda the good witch x her Minime!reader ✨🩰

slight elphaba x reader 🍏

Reader is galindas latest project at shiz, but she gets awfully jealous when people try to take what’s hers.

Gone down a wizard of oz rabbit hole since I watched wicked and it’s made me spawn back onto tumblr to write 🤩

Hope you all like this little concept for a Galinda fic!!

Definitely expect more on the future.

No warnings or spoilers!!

Minime!reader who is galindas carbon copy, latest protégé, who follows her around the academy like a lost puppy.

Minime!reader who wants to be a sorceress just like glinda.

Minime!reader who has pretty hair that Galinda likes to play with and style like she was a doll.

Glinda who styles it the same as her own so they match.

Minime!reader who gets dressed up in the latest outfits and dresses Galinda finds for her.

Minime!reader who is practically galindas favourite little doll.

Minime!reader who doesn’t share a room with Galinda but has her own little section for when she stays the night.

Galinda who doesn’t like others playing with her toys, even when she’s practically neglecting them when price fiyero arrives, and is seeing green (pardon the pun) when she sees Minime!reader with elphaba.

Minime!reader who doesn’t really understand what she’s done wrong as she watches, wide eyed, as Galinda rants and pauses in front of her sat on the bed in galindas room.

Galinda who is seathing when elphaba interrupts her rants by entering their room. And is even madder when she sees the two of you smile at each other!!

Minime!reader who gets completely caught up in the two witches rivalry, Galinda keeping her as far as she can for elphaba, and elphaba trying her best to win you over to annoy the girl.

Glinda who gets beyond furious when she finds out you’ve been talking to elphaba about magic.

Minime!reader who maybe even joins in the lessons with Madame morrible??

And Imagine during what is this feeling and it’s just them arguing and using you to do so 😭

The rest of shiz getting mad at elphaba for “stealing” you from Galinda while youre just unaware in your lesson with her.

Galinda who makes Minime!reader stay in her room often because she doesn’t like her sharing with anyone but her…

And glinda who gets her parents to complain to have you moved to the room next to hers it would have been in her own but elphaba was already in there.

Glinda who drags Minime!reader to the ozdust with her and fiyero.

Minime!reader who would rather spend the night in her room than sit watching glinda and fiyero flirting in front of her. (Jelly?)

But Galinda who makes her come anyway.

And Minime!reader who’s beyond happy when Galinda stands up for elphaba and she can stop being stuck inbetween the two of them.

[morbethgames]

Love In Stasis - Chapter 3

( NOTE: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER THAT WILL BE PLANNED TO BE POSTED HERE ON TUMBLR! At least for now. If you'd like to continue reading, a chapter a week will be released on Patreon for the $5. I hope you enjoyed the first three chapters, and I hope you'll consider supporting me! Link to Patreon is here.)

Chapter 3

Madeline gave three solid knocks on the door of the third floor dorm room. She had taken Melody out shopping a couple of hours ago, and both of them got new outfits for their girls night out. But it wouldn’t do to have Mel fall asleep on the dance floor, so she let her best friend spend a few hours at her dorm room to get some shut eye in her room. 

Maddie knocked a couple more times on the door, and afterwards, heard Luz’s voice come through. “Yeah! Just a sec!” 

When the door finally opened, Luz was standing on the other side of it. “Hey, I-” Madeline began, but once Luz was in full view, she stopped. All the toned woman had on was a white tank top and a pair of women’s boxers. Maddie’s eyes wandered to Luz’s arm that was propped up against the wall, then back to her face, which she had just slicked her hair back from since it was soaked. 

“Sorry about the wait.” Luz said, “You caught me just as I was getting out of the shower.” She looked behind her, pointing her thumb over her shoulder, then looked back towards Madeline. “Mel isn’t here.”

Maddie took a second to come back to earth, then nodded, “Yeah, I know. I came here to talk to you.” 

Luz broke eye contact, releasing a large breath and stepping to the side while motioning with her arm for Madeline to come inside. “I’m assuming this is about last night?”

Madeline soon accepted the invitation, stepping in. “Yeah- Well, kinda.”

Luz furrowed her brow, confused, and let the door shut behind her friend. “Kinda?” Then leaned back against the wall. 

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about your guys’ living arrangements.” She crossed her arms and hardened her expression. Distracted only a bit by the steam just off in the far end of the hallway. She wasn’t kidding; she did just get out of the shower. “You guys can’t live together anymore.” 

Upon hearing what this was really about, Luz bowed her head and put her hands behind her back. “It’s eating her up inside.” Maddie continued, “and even if you wait until she’s out to invite your hookups over, it doesn’t stop it from keeping some wounds open.”

“I know.” Luz replied with an even tone. 

Madeline looked genuinely surprised at first, uncrossing her arms. “You-” She waited for a beat, the small sense of shock making her interrupt herself. “You know?” Then, that surprise turned into irritation. “Then why haven’t you done anything about it?”

“I have.” 

Maddie stared perturbedly, waiting for the taller woman to clarify her statement. Luz looked back up at her and shrugged in preparation of saying something extremely difficult. Something she didn’t really want to happen, but was going to anyway. “I’m gonna be crashing with Darrel for a couple months, or until Mel is,” She pondered how to put it, “better, I guess? I dunno.” 

Luz brought her hand up, rubbing the top of her head. 

Maddie’s eyes, for a split second, blinked towards the Hispanic woman’s adonis muscles that were partially revealed in the process, then refocused to her face again. “I wouldn’t know how to explain it. But I guess it’s just until she can get over me. She smiled sheepishly and let out a single, guilty chuckle. “I know I don’t exactly make that easy.” 

Madeline could tell, as well. She could tell that Luz was genuinely trying to do the right thing, and that maybe she was usually trying to do the right thing and it just fell flat sometimes. Maybe Melody was right. Perhaps she didn’t always give the woman a fair shake. 

“Oh, well,” Maddie began, not really knowing how to completely clear the air through the pent up awkwardness that had built over the last year from her and her best friend’s breakup. “Thanks, Luz. Really.” Maddie said, not really knowing how to completely clear the air through the pent up awkwardness that had built over the last year from her and her best friend’s breakup. 

Luz nodded subtly. “Yeah, no problem.” Then she looked down again. Silent. As if waiting for Madeline to begin making her exit already. 

Which the animal science major did. She began heading for the door, but in the process, had to actually walk past the half-naked woman to do so. When she did, she stopped and faced her. “Hey Luz.” She paused for a second, “You’re, um,” It felt strange being so real with the flirtatious woman. “You’re a good person.”

Luz lifted her head, her lips barely parted and her eyes looking as if they were searching for meaning, focusing on Madeline’s lips as Maddie continued to speak. “And I know I haven’t been as good of a friend as I could’ve been through yours and Mel’s breakup.” Luz’s eyes moved up to Maddie’s. “And I’m sorry about that.”

There was a beat that went by, and then a genuine, appreciative smile appeared on Luz’s lips. “I get it.” She sighed, stood up straight, then shrugged again. “You went up to bat for your best friend. I respect that, Mads.” Her eyes darted down, then up again. “It’s one of the things I like about you. But I, uh, appreciate it.” She spoke softly, “I do.” 

For a moment, Luz had to look away. She wasn’t all too good with showing real, honest emotions. Not with Madeline, at least. And so, because of that, a more flirtatious demeanor took hold. As a sort of wall she could put up to hide herself. “But y’know, I’m no saint in all this either. So if you ever need me to say sorry, I’ve heard I’m very good with my mouth.”

Madeline scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks, but no thanks.” She thought for a moment, then leaned in a bit. “But if you really wanna say sorry, you can slip me Darrel’s number. Mel and I are going out tonight and he seems like he’d be more my speed, if you know what I mean.”

Luz’s eyes faltered, for only a split second. For a single moment while she huffed out a breath. But it was just not-so-subtle enough to be noticeable. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”

Maddie smiled, leaning forward a little more to look up at Luz. “What was that?”

Luz released a tense snicker, “What was what?”

“That.” Madeline said again, leaning in a bit closer. “Oh my god. Luz Marcellus, are you-” she let out an amused exhale, “Are you jealous?” Her poking and prodding was, of course, meant in a playful manner. 

The toned woman raised her eyebrows. “Me? Jealous?” She scoffed. “No.”

“I think you are.”

“Mads, watch yourself.” Luz playfully warned, taking a step closer. 

“Luz, I’ve never seen that look on you before.” Maddie took a single step back, still smirking. “Oh, don’t worry though, I won’t be part of whatever body count contest you guys are having. I’ll make it abundantly clear to him going into it that things are to stay between the-”

Before Madeline knew what was happening, she was between Luz and the wall, with the butch woman’s forearm placed above her head. The wet strands of hair hung down in front of her face, barely letting her brown eyes show through and burrow their way into Maddie’s own. The shorter woman’s gaze went wide and she tried to look anywhere that wasn’t up or forward. 

But that wasn’t exactly working.

Was that Luz she was smelling? What kind of cologne was that? She wore cologne? It was nice.  That, mixed with the smell of the shampoo, was almost intoxicating in a way. 

Luz flipped her hair to the side, giving that trademark charming smile with that stupid way she dragged her teeth along her bottom lip for half a second. It all made Madeline’s heart speed up a beat or two. But why? She didn’t like women like that. Maybe she didn’t view Luz as a woman?

Gee, that’s a shitty rationalization to jump to. Madeline thought the words, keeping them locked in her head.

“There’s a lot of sides of me you haven’t seen yet, Mads. But we can change that.” Her voice was deeper than usual, Maddie could swear to it. “Y’know, if you ever become interested.” Madeline felt humiliated that this was actually getting to her. She knew logically that this was all just to get back at her for poking fun at Luz in the first place. So, yeah, kinda should’ve seen something like this coming. 

But Madeline thought it was like how Luz and Darrel joke with each other. How Darrel will say something to her that’s provocative, and she’ll tell him to eat a dick, but in a ‘bros being bros’ kinda way. 

She put a hand on the top of Luz’s chest to gently push against her, adding a trilled laugh to her first word. “Yeah, okay. That would require me to find you attractive, cowgirl.” 

But then, Luz’s expression just dropped. Like it would 

In immediate response, so did Maddie’s. 

“Wow, um,” Luz backed away to put space between them, releasing a single, hurt breath. “Okay…” 

Madeline just froze for a good couple of seconds. 

What did she say? It was the truth. She wasn’t attracted to Luz, because she wasn’t attracted to women, and Luz knew that. Those two things were obviously going to line up. Maybe she thought Maddie was calling her unattractive, in a general sense? Anyone with eyes could see that wasn’t true, though. Not only that, Luz has always been super proud of her body. So why was right now such a blow for her and not something she could just laugh off?

Maddie reached her hand out. “Luz, I didn’t-” 

“No it’s- it’s cool.” Luz took another step back and kept looking to the side, clearing her throat and pulling her shirt down to cover her torso just a bit better. “I get it.” She nodded once, “I do.” 

“Okay…” Madeline said, just kind of leaving it at that. She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know what was going on. “Did you, um,” She narrowed her gaze a bit, “ Did you wanna-” Then, she pointed her thumb towards the door, “I mean, tonight, with-”

“No, I can’t.” Luz cut her off. “I have work. Patrolling.” 

“Right…” 

Another awkward pause.

Maddie took a couple steps back towards the door, the apologetic sensation never leaving her expression. “Well, I’m gonna head out. Gotta make sure Mel wakes up in time for our girls' night.” 

Luckily, it seemed like Luz had started to compose herself. She took a deep breath and returned to more of a neutral demeanor. “Yeah, well, you guys have fun. Take a shot or two for me.” 

Madeline seemed relieved when her friend at least started acting normal again. She giggled, “Luz, we always take shots for you. You don’t drink.” 

Luz shot her a friendly wink, “I know. Have fun tonight.”

“Thanks, we will!” With those final words, Madeline opened the door behind her and left the dorm room. All the way to the elevator, she couldn’t help but think about how weird that entire interaction ended up being. Had things changed that much with Luz in the past year? What hell even happened back there? 

Maddie tried shaking it off as she got onto the elevator.

One thing was for sure; she would certainly be drinking enough to try and forget whatever the fuck that was.

10pm - Shivers Bar & Club Singles Night

A glass hit the bar underneath, and Madeline let out a high pitched, ‘Woooo!’ as the first shot of alcohol cleared her esophagus. She was wearing a red silken dress with an open back that had strings that tie around the back of her neck. It flowed down to just above her knees. 

Melody laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Maddie! Easy, we just got here!” 

She turned to Melody and put an arm around her shoulder. “Hey! ‘Easy’ is for people who get to do this more than once every couple of months!” She took the second shot from the bar and held it out to the crowd as she turned both of them to face it. “We came out here to have a good time, and dammit, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. So do me a favor and down this shit!” 

Madeline held the shot to Melody’s lips and tilted it back, to which Melody took the hint and opened her mouth, tilting her head back to let the drink flow down her throat. Maddie let out yet another cheer and put the now empty shot glass on the bar next to the other one. 

Mel put the back of her wrist up to her lips, holding in a laugh at her over-ecstatic best friend. “Now, let’s get you and the sweet, sweet ass out on the dance floor, girl!” They both laughed and Maddie grabbed Melody’s wrist, holding it in the air and swaying her hips while she danced out onto the floor to begin their night.

11:30pm - Shivers Bar & Club Singles Night…

Madeline leaned on the bar, downing her third shot of the night, and she was starting to feel it coming on. She let out a breath, and a laugh afterwards, exhausted but having the time of her life. 

“Hey, you here alone?!”

She heard a deep voice yell out over the music, and before even looking at the guy, smiled and retorted. “It’s singles night! What do you think?!” It was more of a playful tone than a snarky one. As she saw the guy for the first time, he looked pretty damn cute. Not the most built, but certainly not scrawny. 

“To actually answer your question,” she continued, “I came here with my friend. She’s, um,” Madeline looked around. Where was Mel? It was difficult to see over and past the crowd, but as a few more people cleared the way at the end of the song, she saw her. And a huge grin came across her face. 

Melody was on the other end of the bar, pressed against it, making out with a woman a few inches taller than her with raven black, shoulder length hair. “She’s busy.” Maddie said, turning back to the guy.

He looked down at her and smiled, leaning on the bar. “You and your friend come to singles nights together often?”

“Oh, it’s not what you think.” The music began to blare again as the next song started. It was difficult to convey the joking tone she wanted while talking over it, but she did her best. “She’s my manager!”

“Oh yeah?!” The guy played along.

Madeline nodded, “For sure! There’s some really raunchy stuff of me online! Girl’s gotta make a living, right?!” 

The guys face formed an over exaggerated expression of understanding. “Oh yeah, for sure, for sure!” Then broke out into a grin again. 

Maddie looked him up and down. Yeah, he passed the vibe check.

But before it could continue, she heard a familiar voice next to her. “Hey, Maddie!” 

She looked over to see Melody standing there, holding hands with the woman she was just making out with. “Hey, Mel!” There was most certainly a teasing lilt to the word that made her best friend roll her eyes and blush, smiling like she was caught with her hand caught where it wasn’t supposed to be, and where it most likely was just a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m gonna head back! I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?!” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure! Go on girl! Have fun!” Once again, a lilting, teasing cadance took over the last word, and Madeline watched as her friend walked out with her new date.

She looked back to the guy she was talking with, “So, where were we?”

12:30am - Shivers Bar & Club Singles Night…

Body’s were rubbing against each other. The music was pounding. More drinks were being ordered. More drinks were being consumed. At this point, it was safe to say that Madeline was drunk. Five shots in for a person that doesn’t regularly go out drinking was more than enough. 

She leaned back against the bar, making out with the guy she was dancing with. Turns out his name was Garrett, which she classily found out a few seconds before she started kissing him. They smiled into the kiss and he reached down, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her closer to him. “You feel fucking amazing, Maddie.”

“Mmm… Same do… you…” Well, it seemed like she was more drunk than she thought. But she’s been drunk before and that felt different than this. 

Her hand reached up to hold her forehead, “Woah-” And when she looked back at Garrett, everything seemed like it was spinning. His head wouldn’t stay in one place. Afterimages filled her vision when things passed her view. She was starting to see double. 

She heard Garrett’s voice, as if it was far off in the distance. Distorted. Like it was slowed down, but going faster somehow. “Maddie? You good?”

“No, I…” She reached into her pocket, her hand shakily pulling out her phone. “T-trouble… Gotta c-call… Some-” Her fingers tried their best to work on the digital keypad.

5… 8… 9…

But it was no use. Before she could do anything else, she dropped her phone and stumbled into the counter. The device clattered to the ground and Garrett reached out to grab her. “Woah, Maddie!” He steadied her on her feet as her head fell motionless backwards. 

Barely conscious, she heard another voice. A familiar voice. 

“Yo, what’s going on? Maddie? Maddie, you good?” Her head was held forward by someone different. It was Darrel. Darrel was here.

He looked at Garrett while keeping her head upright. “What the fuck happened?!”

“I don’t know, man! I think she was drugged or something.” Garrett seemed worried. Both for Maddie’s safety, and because he didn’t want anyone thinking he did it.

“Shit!” 

“We’ve been on the dancefloor for like, the past hour. Only coming back here and there to grab a quick drink- I swear, she’s been fine up until this point!” 

Darrel looked around on the bar for a second. He picked up a glass with his free hand and put it forcefully back down on the counter. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Yo! Bartender! No fucking drink covers on this shit; are you for real right now?! It’s a fuckin’ college town dipshit!” He pointed to the ground, “Hey yo, get her phone. Put it in her purse.” 

“Darrel…” Madeline slurred the name, pouting, and a couple of silent cries came from her throat. 

“I gotchu, babygirl, don’t worry. I gotchu.” He picked Maddie up and turned to Garrett. “Yo, Garrett! Call the cops, tell’em someone’s been drugged at Shivers. Give’em my address and-” He thought about it for a second, looked down at her, then shook his head. “Actually, nah, fuck that. Way too sus. I’m takin’ her to her room! Tell’em she’ll be in the junior and senior dorm!”

“Yeah, for sure man, I’m on it.” Garrett took out his phone and immediately started calling the police.

And that was the last thing Madeline remembered…

3:07am - Grayson Library Parking Lot

Luz sat in her patrol car with it turned on so that the heat was going. When it’s in the forties outside, saving on gas money during your break suddenly becomes a bit less important than staying warm. To help with that, she also had a coffee she picked up at a twenty-four hour diner down the street, too. 

Her phone dinged, and as she took another sip and looked down at it, she smirked and shook her head. The message appeared at the top of her screen, from one of her hookups this past year on campus, asking if she was DTF tonight. She went to move her thumb to click on the message, but she just hovered over it. 

She was conflicted. Ever since that talk with Maddie earlier, she couldn’t even let her mind wander anywhere else. It was like there was a blockade there, and it was something she couldn’t move past for some reason. Both the jealousy, and the stinging remark that Maddie didn’t find her attractive. For some reason, hearing that out loud from her friend, just stung. It was a constant parasite eating away at her brain. 

Luz shook her head and let the message on her phone stay unread. She clicked the device's screen off and looked back up through the windshield. “What’s wrong with me?” 

But she narrowed her gaze, squinting to try and see something in the distance. “The hell?” Out in the middle of the green just outside the library, she could barely see the figure of someone. From this distance, in the dark, it just looked like a shadow. It seemed like they were kneeling on the ground, maybe?

What were they doing out here?

Luz got out of her car and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed through the night air like the clap of thunder. Upon hearing it, the figure quickly got up and immediately began running off across the green, towards the main strip. 

“Hey!” Luz yelled out, trying to make out anything she could about the figure. Though it was harder to tell anything about it, she could, at the very least, see that they were wearing a baseball cap and were about, five-foot-four from the looks of it. Maybe five-foot-seven or five-foot-eight?

She started jogging towards the figure, though it was obvious with their headstart that she wasn’t going to catch them. When the security officer got ten or so yards away from where they were originally kneeling down, she watched them round the corner and leave her line of sight. 

Luz shakes her head, then looks down a bit and sees another figure. Her eyes squint, and she instinctively reaches for her walkie. “This is campus security badge two-five-six out on the green outside of Grayson Library. I got a possible two-forty, requesting local law enforcement.”

The radio immediately came back with a voice. “Heard, two-five-six. Contacting law enforcement and backup will be there shortly.”

She began pulling out her flashlight. “Yo, you alright?” When she clicked it on and the circular light came to life, it was pointed down at the ground at her feet. Instinctively, Luz looked down.

She squinted, trying to make out what the wind had just blown against her pants.

It was hair. Auburn hair.

Her breath sped up and she slowly pointed her flashlight up and along the ground. Her voice was almost caught in her throat, and she began walking fast towards the unmoving figure. “Hey, I said ‘are you alright’!”

As Luz got closer, her worst fears became a reality. 

With chunks of hair cut off, and an excess amount of blood from the multiple stab wounds to her chest…

It was Melody.

“Oh my god-!” Luz rushed over, pulling her walkie up to her mouth, the tears already starting to well up in a panic. “I need EMT’s! EMT’s- SEND EMT’s!” Her voice broke as she shouted into the device, then threw it on the ground. 

She practically slid down next to her as she collapsed to her knees, reaching out and turning Melody’s face towards her to look into her eyes. “Mel! Mel, look at me!” 

She did; but there was nothing there. Her eyes were as cold as her skin. 

Luz put her hands on the wounds, pressing down hard to try and stop the bleeding. “Don’t do this! C’mon, don’t do this!” She pressed down again, looking at the blood seeping through her fingers and overtop her hands, then back to Melody’s face. Tears began to run down her cheeks. “Fuck- Mel, c’mon!” 

As she cried, she leaned down to put her face just inches away from her friend’s as she whispered to her. The vacant stare that gazed back surely burned into her mind forever. “C’mon, what do you want, huh? W-what do you want me to do? Y-you want me to say that I love you? I- I do, okay? I love you. I love you so fucking much, Mel, just please don’t fucking do this to me- Please, God don’t do this…” 

Her words were strained, said in the middle of sobs as her hands came up to caress Melody’s face. The blood smeared on her extremely pale, lifeless skin as Luz’s thumb gently stroked her cheek. 

Luz looked out all around her and screamed as loud as she could. “HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

She looked back to the body of what was once her friend. “God, no,” Luz began to cry uncontrollably. “No, no, please no…” She reached down and cradled Melody in her arms, bringing her up to hold her close. To embrace her one last time. “Please don’t go…” The blood began to soak into her uniform, but Luz didn’t care. She rocked back and forth, holding the corpse of one of the only people on this earth she could ever truly say she had loved.

The only sounds left in the dead of night were the whining of incoming sirens, and the sobs of a broken woman… 

[alitlantern]

#𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 ━━━━━━━━━ ⚖️ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ / ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ / ꜱᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴄᴀʀʀᴅ , ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ , ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ , ᴛᴀɢꜱ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰɪᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴛʜɪᴍʙʟᴇ.

𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━⚡ an unfriendly aesop: when a moral lesson conflicts with our understanding of "good."

― Melody, 29, they/she

― Account is 18+, NSFW is for 23+

― Disabled, chronically online, horrendous sleep schedule

― Right off the bat, I am sex positive, kink friendly, and a taboo safe haven. I don’t believe in “pro shipping” or anything of that ilk. As long as you’re an adult and not hurting anyone IRL, I beg you to write what you want. With me, even! I’ll write fucked up shit with you gleefully! Censoring will only aid the corrupt.

― Anti call out culture

― Haven’t been on Tumblr in probably 5 years, but I was here in the advent of RP and have a long, sordid history with it

― Iconless bc I’m not trying to screenshot games like that. It’s fine if you use them though!

― Don’t worry about matching my format, of course! I’m very lazy with it as it is

― Have played all the DA games + DLCs, working through the books now

― Constructive criticism about lore is always accepted!

― Brevity is the soul of art or whatever but I suck at it. Sorry :D

― Plotting >>>>

― I can usually bounce off of anything someone sends me, if plotting isn’t your jam, but I am here for the girls, the gays, and the theys that both want a 12 hour long yap session about every intricate detail and also write it all

― Explicit NSFW can be written on the dash if both parties are chill with it. If you wanna write it but don’t want it on the dash, I will be more than happy to move to Discord or Google docs! Also, I’m obviously just as happy to fade to black if need be.

― Favorite genres: Angst, hurt/comfort NSFW/erotica, fluff. I can roll with anything though

― Dark/Mature/Taboo themes will be mentioned; Anders is canonically a victim in many ways and I do not shy away from representing the fact.

― Please move ask responses to separate threads, linking to the original. Also, it doesn’t matter how much time has passed since I answered the ask; always feel free to turn anything into a thread!

― This is controversial but my biggest pet peeve is dropped threads. I’m disabled and have a very limited attention span, but I will still always go out of my way to not drop threads. It may take me weeks to reply, but no thread is ever dropped unless we’ve talked about it. I really hope for the same level of committment to this hobby from those I share it with

― Another controversial take; I don’t always follow with the intent to write. Yes, of course, I would love to write with absolutely everyone and will make that happen as much as I can, but I don’t think it’s a requirement to stay mutuals, or to even be friends! Sometimes I follow people just because I like the way they write, or I want to read their headcanons, or I mean to write with them in the future. I’m not in a rush here to figure out what to do with every last mutual. If that bothers you, please hard block me. No hard feelings!

― Dupes are welcome! We don’t have to write anything but I would love to be friends with people who love Anders as much as I do!

[crustyfloor]

when yr blog title says till will survive do you mean he will power through and girlboss or he will get out physically alive and have the bare minimum shred of survival instinct and is a husk

??? look here WATERDROPLET

I know Till still has it in him man, even after all this time and after all he’s been through he still hasn’t fully lost his spark or his will….i believe in Till,,,i believe he’ll fight his way out like he did before, like Mizi was the muse of his energy and spirit in round 2, whatever he’ll get from round 6 could be his new reason. But, even if he gets on that stage a more broken, and beaten man than he was in round 6, even so to the point where he’s just a corpse of who he once was, with barely any fight left—His candle hasn’t burnt out yet. Till can fight this. AND HE WILL BOUNCE BACK. TILL WILL SURVIVE ROUND 7

(there’s really no saying how he’ll be coming into round 7 but….i have faith they haven’t completely killed his spirit yet)

[mossy-paws]

hello! I do parody accounts of phighting characters on twt, I was wondering if you would allow me to make a parody account of one of your biografts? (Leaning towards mossgraft or jestergraft.) I was also here to half ask if you have any more content of either of them../nf/lh

STARES SO HARD,,, I think I would be cool with that!! I definitely recommend dm-ing me on here or discord though so we can both talk about it a bit more so we can lay some stuffs down :3! Especially if you’re thinking about doing one for Mossgraft since I’m really attached to her specifically + they have PROBABLY the most expansive lore!

Also,, ohhhhhh boy do I got some food for you /silly like I said Mossgraft is my BABY (they were also my first EVER PHIGHTING oc and were made like 2 days after I got into the game LMFAO) so out of all of my bio’s them, Clementine, and Wall-e are by far my favorites

buuuut for Mossgraft and wall-e specifically with lore, there is a LOT, so I’ll start with a bit of design and lore history and then get into the really fun stuff :3

soooo where to begin! So to start, like I said Mossgraft was my first ever phighting oc made basically when I first got into the fandom, originally, Mossgraft was a custom built supposed to be betagraft prototype that failed pretty harshly and became sentient and then booked it out to playground LMAO, they were also supposed to be married to catshot because when i first started playing the game I wouldn’t stop calling him “wife” (catshot as a skin was also literally the ENTIRE reason why I first started playing,, that and broker). This is not Mossgrafts lore anymore (at least not fully) and they safe to say aren’t married to anyone now.

Mossgrafts old design was also WAAAAY different to say the least, when making it I was having such an actual pain trying to get the colors right + I didn’t really have much down for their lore, so you can probably see the struggle I was having there LMFAO

Now! Time for the fun parts when it came to design, obviously you can tell after I created that absolutely horrific version of them I still was VERY unhappy about their colors and stuff, so I was playing around with them on this one specific piece (if anyone remembers this you are the GOAT) which was I BELIEVE(?) made when BH was first introduced. At this point I don’t really remember much extra lore and stuff for them (not even the venom bits were thought up yet) but yeah!

At this point though, I really wanted to make an actual design for Mossgraft, and so I did! This was when I first came up with the idea of murder dronifying them /j and when I first came up with Wall-e! At this point Wall-e’s lore was basically non-existent other then what’s on the ref LMAO and mossgraft’s was still a huge WIP

Now this is just a really small but pretty influential thing I made for Wall-e, this was when I was first coming up with his lore! Basically, Wall-e is one of three original biograft proto-types created by subspace. All of them were made as a sort of practice to see if they could actually mass produce Biografts- with Wall-e being the zetagraft proto, Violet being the Betagraft proto, and cyan being scrapped completely

Why was Proto-type cyan specifically cancelled? Well, all of the protos were made for one reason; testing. They were made to be used as testers and NOTHING else, just as a sort of social experiment in a way where Subspace can monitor their behaviors and such and then later on make changes to the designs and coding and such. This didn’t go well though, and Cyan ended up going rogue and dismantling Violet (who was also beginning to go grow sentient, it was just much less violent about it and was uncontrollable because of fear) and then breaking out of the labs and going on a rampage and killing a ton of Blackrock civilians before it was eventually recaptured and killed. Wall-e, afterwards, was SUPPOSED to be dismantled, but managed to somehow escape (NOTE: this was changed later down the line and now in wall-e lore Cyan had attempted to dismantle it too but failed before it was detained). Mossgraft, shortly before cyans failure, was created as another way to test biografts made for war, created with Violets alternative blueprints and made 3000 times more deadly… this though, also failed. After cyans failure (NOTE: in new lore, Mossgraft was the one who eventually killed Cyan after a few months of it being rampant, which is why wall-e was eventually saved by it) Mossgraft managed to break free from Blackrock, saving wall-e from being dismantled in the process completely by accident, and… then moved to playground to be spiteful…… It didn’t ask for wall-e to come follow it, wall-e just ended up tagging along after his saving and just,, hasn’t left. Mossgraft doesn’t really mind this though, since wall-e hasn’t done anything to harm Mossgraft. (Maybe Mossgraft cares a LITTLE bit about it, just maybe, they would never say it though).

in playground, Mossgraft was later found and taken in (?) by a small gang of demons who use it as basically a fucking threat to anyone trying to annoy them LMAO, these guys don’t have designs yet, but they’re named Rainbowcape (just a little gal,, she’s as sweet as can be in most occasions although she can be a bit mean even if she doesn’t mean it, she has a good heart though), Overseer spider (a manipulative little rat of a man /j who’s a Thieves den/Blackrock demon who later moved to playground because he hated both of his parent factions. Does he like playground? No, no not really, but in his opinions it’s better than either of the latter.), and a few other demons who I really haven’t put much thought into. Mossgraft honestly does NOT care much about the gang, they just also tolerate their presence because 1) they haven’t done anything violent to Mossgraft yet 2) treat Mossgraft really well since Mossgraft is basically their shield and means of protection and 3) Mossgraft kind of thinks they’re funny, it’s like watching a sitcom with those demons.

For dreamgraft, its lore ties pretty heavily in with Mossgrafts, although its lore is much less “pronounced” then M’s is. For Dreamgraft, it was created specifically to target and kill Mossgraft, other rogue bio’s, and demons (although mainly to track down and kill Mossgraft). I actually came up with dreamgraft’s concept well. From their namesake, although they looked way different in my dream then on paper LMAO

But! Back on track, Dreamgraft was created using another offshoot of regular betagraft (and a tiny bit of violets) blueprints AFTER Mossgraft had left. Why now, would a biograft be made specifically to hunt down another one? Well… this is because of Mossgraft basically being a walking war crime, which was also why it was never remade, Mossgraft is INCREDIBLY dangerous and the other factions did not appreciate it getting loose so they had to get on blackrocks ass about fixing their mistakes and killing it……. This is easier said then done though, because Mossgraft knows DAMN WELL that it does not wanna get dismantled so will gladly do anything to avoid getting caught by anything it so even suspects to be of Blackrock origin. So, they had to come up with a counter too it- and so Dreamgraft was made! Its code, unlike Mossgrafts, was absolutely PERFECTED and because of this Dreamgraft isn’t sentient, its biggest goal is to track down Mossgraft and kill it. Mossgraft is smart enough to know how to avoid it in most circumstances, though it has had some close calls in the past since dreamgraft’s toxic vapor can be a real pain to get away from.

Jestergraft was created as something akin to a “show biograft” and is subspaces personal pet biograft. How did he get away with making this when it does almost nothing else other then looking pretty, you may ask? No clue! But hey at least it can tell you the time and juggle!! Anyways subspace basically just wanted a biograft he could baby and it SHOWS with Jestergraft… especially because it’s sentient and boy oh boy is this little fucker smart. It’s code corrupted almost the second it was made but it’s learned how to masterfully hide it since if it shows any sort of sentience around its creator it’ll get dismantled. It also copy’s subspace’s manner of speech (making it even more insufferable to be around).

It also doesn't really *like* other biografts, but it knows how to manipulate them into doing its bidding’s when subspace isn’t looking. Dreamgraft on the other hand it HATES because it can’t. It thinks Dreamgraft 1) is a threat to its status and 2) sentient…. It’s not, though, why does Jestergraft think it is? Absolutely no clue at all. I like to think of it as some mad little brother trying to pin all bad these things on the really tired, annoyed, and uncaring older sibling who’s done absolutely nothing.

so, that’s basically it for a lot of their lore! I’m not gonna be doing mangografts/clementines/or sootgrafts for the time being since sootgraft and Mangograft have their own lores and clementines would take HOURS to write out fully (I actually DO have a plan for drawing out a poem I wrote out about biografts that will reveal a lot of his lore in the distance future, but for now I just don’t really have the time to dedicate to it :sadface:). For Mossgraft and wall-e though, I do actually have some FUNNNN ideas for them planned in the future! Specifically since I’ve been getting into transformers I’ve been itching to make some fun little “what if” alternative designs for them specifically, as well as some other lore pieces and such of them! For prototype cyan, I actually wrote a small little fic of them a long time ago, I doubt I’ll ever post it but if I do I’ll be sure to attach it to here! It’s very unfinished and old though so it’s not the most interesting read LOL

now,, for some fun stuff! Doodles and extra little pieces :3

First one is because a friend said they wanted to kiss Mossgraft (hi steam), second was actually a tumblr request! It was a fun little piece where someone asked me how the bio’s would react to a phone (fun fact, none of them know what one is (besides jester that is)). The third and fourth pieces were me trying to redesign Mossgraft and wall-e after their second ref was made (I later gave up because of motivation loss LMAO). Sixth was self indulgent, I just wanted to draw them as cats, seventh is an old old doodle of Cyan, this was me just testing out a brush. And the last is just a fun little wall-e thing

anyways! I hope you liked the lore dump, if you wanna talk more about making a parody account please do dm me for sure :3! I do got some important stuff to lay down (duh) but yeah!

[mars-ipan]

the thing about the whole “voting is useless” argument is like. i’d rather do a useless thing than not do a useful thing

[buddiesmutslut]

I would pay an honestly absurd amount of money to see one of Eddie’s friends that Chris knows & likes (whether that’s Tommy since everybody wants him to be an MC, or a good friend from the army or Texas) come over & hang around them, and for Chris to be excited & greet them like, “Uncle Tommy!” (Or whether their name is.)

Especially if Buck is there & gets worried like, “he’s never called me Uncle, am I not as important to this kid as I thought I was?”

Force them both to really look at the role Buck plays in Christopher’s life vs how the rest of their friends act/treat Chris, bc even if Buddie doesn’t get together, I’d love to see it acknowledged canonically just how fatherly Buck acts with Chris.

(Obviously in my dream world & in the fic I’ll probably write, this will be what kickstarts Buck & Eddie figuring their shit out and getting together but that’s just me)

[kindaasrikal]

I’m so terrified of people that sometimes i stare at their socials and think ‘i should talk to them’ and then just don’t and then realise I’m a lost cause and i go back to drawing depressingly

[cuteniaarts]

The weight of the world is a heavy burden

Especially for a child

(Or, in slightly less dramatic terms – I imagine that the first of her past lives that Avatar Suiren [who is the Avatar after Aang instead of Korra in my AU, and also Ghazan and Ming-Hua’s daughter] gets to talk to is Yangchen, because she is too plagued by memories not her own [including Jetsun’s death, fun fact]. And Yangchen wouldn’t want another child to go through what she did on their own)

(Or maybe someone just needed an excuse to draw @katkastrofa’s latest obsession in a context that interests them as well, just in time to maybe cheer her up a little? You can’t prove anything)

[stuckinapril]

.

[simply-a-moth]

no because one time i had a dream that i posted a picture of a list i have of silly stuff to do (i have to write it down or else i will forget) and everyone in the tags was like “no way moth name reveal” or “name mention?” or something similar, and i was really confused because i kept looking at the picture (it was REALLY blurry for some reason) and i didn’t see my name anywhere on it, and nobody actually said my name

i woke up very concerned but then realized that it was a dream

[blahaj-blastin]

I will never turn down the opportunity to hear about someone’s OC or WIP. I love hearing people talk about stuff they made and are passionate about. It makes me so genuinely happy.

It doesn’t matter if we’re strangers or best friends. It doesn’t matter if you’re on the verge of publishing or it will never see the light of day. It doesn’t matter if the lore is deep and developed or if you literally just came up with some dude two minutes ago. Tell me the things! I love the things!

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

*sees post criticizing Mr Beast for the human rights violations*

*goes to reblog*

*pauses*

*the last three reblogs are making fun of how “soulless” he looks in a photo when he smiles*

*he looks like me when I try to smile for photos*

*does not reblog*

[cosmicsnufkin]

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