#anyway i forgot they were making that piece of shit if anyone i know ever watches a second of it i'm cutting them out of my life lmao

[dameferre]

the mere suggestion that they might cast a Black. Man. as fucking snape is enough to have me wondering if the brian thompson hit man is taking new clients

[toxicanonymity]

Some Landlord ! Billy smut would be Perfect, if you have time. Thanks Tox 🥺

murderbait

BILLY LOOMIS x f!READER | 2k words | The Leak WARNINGS: 18+ AU where Billy lives and is acquitted of the murders. He's now your sleazy landlord. Gratuitous slutty descriptions. masturbation in public, detailed PIV fantasy, degradation, praise, banter and bickering, light enemies to lovers dynamic, manhandling, dom Billy vibes, sexual tension, pet names, "protective" Billy. NOTES: Sure, nonnie. I offer this sleaze with love. 🖤🖤

In the middle of the night, you wake up sweaty despite being completely naked and using no covers. Without putting on any clothes, you walk to your kitchen to get a cold cup of water, only to see a stack of filled ice trays next to the sink because you forgot to put them in the freezer. Ugh.

You get a glass of water and stand in front of the fridge with the door open. The air conditioner in your window feels weaker every day. It’s so stuffy in your trailer, you wonder if you’d be better off with the window open. Still naked, you go to the kitchen window and slide it open. No matter how hard you push upward, it won’t click and stay. 

“Piece of shit,” you mutter. But the fresh air does feel good. 

Standing in the window with your arms raised, tits blazing, skin glistening…. something moves in the corner of your eye. There’s a fake security camera mounted on the shed you’re looking at. At least you always assumed it was fake, since the owners are such deadbeats. You give it the middle finger just in case, then use a pitcher to hold the window up. 

You go back to bed for a while longer, then get up and rifle through your unfolded laundry, looking for a swimsuit. You find a bikini that appears to have shrunk, but it has adjustable strings so you put it on anyway. Next door, there’s an extended stay hotel that has a pool. It has a cracked and faded slide, no longer in use, and half the rungs are dangling from the pool ladders. It won’t be the first time you’ve snuck in there. No one seems to care, and no one’s going to be out at this hour anyway. 

The pool water is normally warm by sunset, but in the middle of the night, it’s cooled off enough. A weakly-inflated flamingo pool float sits atop the water, and a couple of pool noodles hug the wall. Half the pool lights are working. There’s no way this would pass an inspection, but sometimes it feels like barely anyone outside the area knows it exists.

You sit on the side of the pool, and as you lower yourself into the water, you look down to see your hard nipples barely contained by the shrunken, unlined triangle top, with some areola showing on one breast. The sight of your own slutty fit turns you on, and you don’t fix it. 

Kicking your legs out in front of you, you imagine Billy joining you. Billy and his dirty wifebeaters and trucker hats and jeans that fit too well. Billy and his slutty fucking selfies that you can’t stop looking at every night. Billy, and that look in his eyes like he could eat you up, if only he were hungry. 

He’d be hungry right now, you bet. You turn to your side and use both feet to grab a pool noodle, letting yourself off the wall as you mount it. Straddling the  pool noodle, you turn toward the wall and rest your forearms on the side and squeeze your thighs together. 

Closing your eyes and resting your head, you fantasize about him. He’s a low-life and a sleaze, and god he makes it hot. The way he moves, it shouldn’t be hot at all, but you’ve been watching him closer ever since he sent those selfies, and when scratches his lower belly, lifting up his tank top, exposing his happy trail, at this point it drives you fucking crazy. Like that’s where you need your forehead. You tilt your hips for more pressure from the foam between your legs. 

There’s not a single thing about him that says he’s a better guy than you thought, but maybe he is. Or more likely, you don’t care. Or, perhaps most likely, you kinda like him bad. 

He’s not the kind of man you’d want in your life, but in your bed? 

It’s so easy to picture his silhouette at the foot of your bed, scratching himself, then lewdly grabbing the massive bulge in his jeans. 

Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking friction with the foam noodle. 

You can see him kneeling onto your mattress, prowling toward you, arms flexing, chains hanging down from his neck, dangling in the air–god if you could feel those hit your skin. You can feel him grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, while he unbuttons his jeans with the other. 

You reach down and slide the pool noodle against your front, grinding your hips. 

He’d probably lean in real close, say something cocky like, “you ready for this?”  Ugh, his voice. With his dick in his hand. “Think ya can take it?”  Yes, yes, please. He drops his thick meat heavily against your mound. Yes, please. God, please, you’d be squirming under him, wrists pinned by his hand, lifting your hips desperately.  “Sure ya can handle this big cock?”

Fuck. It’s so clear, you can practically smell him. Your whole cunt throbs and you’re gushing in your bikini bottoms. “Mm,” you quietly hum as you get closer. 

He’d shove himself into you, you’d arch your back and moan. He’d chuckle darkly, then his free hand would come to your jaw, dwarfing your face as he uses just two fingers and a thumb to squeeze your mouth open. The smell of cigarettes intensifies as his face hovers over yours, then he spits in your mouth. And he stays there, bottomed out, and you’ve never felt so full but you need the friction, you need him to move so bad, you need him to fuck you, you beg him to fuck you, really fuck you. “Yeah? Need me to fuck you?” God, yes. 

“Mm,” your face screws up. You're so wet, and your clit twitches as you rub the front of your swimsuit with the foam cylinder you're straddling.

You can practically hear him say, “Poor baby.” He’s got half a smile, amused and in control. “Yeah I'll give it to ya,” he begins to slowly retreat, pauses with his cock half-withdrawn and lowers his pitch. “Who’s your daddy?”

The tension snaps and your lips part as you see stars. 

Squeezing your thighs tight around the pool noodle, you ride it out, cumming to the thought of his girth stretching you with his gold chains dangling over you, hips beginning to move, jeans sitting loosely around his hips. 

You weren’t planning on doing that, but, there you are, coming down off that high in the motel pool, in your shrunken bikini, skin buzzing, so tired and peaceful you could fall asleep. 

And then metal scrapes against concrete, stirring you from your blissed out state. 

A shadow moves.

His deep voice at a low volume, with that edge of condescension: "All done?”

Your stomach drops. You almost don’t want to look up, but you do. It’s his silhouette, manspreading in a worn-out chair, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. The shadow of his stupid trucker hat hides his face. You let go of the pool noodle and try to subtly push it away, obviously too late. Frozen, heart racing, you’re standing with your chest above water. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.” He stands up and stretches, revealing his happy trail. He twists in another stretch and god, his silhouette - his jeans bulging, clearly aroused. “An' so are you, c’mon.” 

“I’m still cooling off,” you protest. 

“I’ll bet.”  He drops his cigarette into his can of beer and carries it with him as he approaches the pool with his face still in the shadow of his hat. Light reflects off his gold chains. 

You make a fake effort to adjust your top and can’t take your eyes off his jeans. He adjusts himself and stands there giving you a moment. 

Then he loses patience and says, “Alright, sugartits. Let’s go.” 

He squats down and grabs you by the arm. 

“Hey,” you protest as he starts to manhandle you toward the shallow stairs. “Alright, alright. Damn”

When you’re out of the pool, he looks you up and down. You feel like covering yourself up, but you defiantly stand with your hands on your hips. 

“Tryin’ to turn tricks out here?” He slowly steps toward you and his eyes are glued to your chest. “Good place to do it….prolly make a few hooker friends too.” 

“How many of’em have you fucked?” you retort. 

He ignores the question and reaches for your chest. 

Without blocking his hand, you look down and part of your nipple is showing again. He “fixes” your suit, tugging it over and thumbing your nipple while he’s at it. It covers your areola but leaves underboob. 

“There ya go.” 

He puts a toothpick in his mouth and motions for you to lead the way. 

As you exit the pool area dripping wet, you mention, “If you’re gonna spy on me, you could bring me a towel next time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” He mumbles with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. “Just lookin’ out for ya’s all.” 

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

He pulls the tab off his beer can and it replaces the cigarette that had been between his fingers. He throws the can into a bush.

As you reach the trailer park property line, he throws his toothpick into the shrubs and lowers his voice. “Listen sugar, there’s some shady fuckin’ characters over there.” 

You scoff. “Apparently so.” you shoot him a look and can’t help but check him out while you’re at it. A harsh floodlight highlights the freckles on his big, tan shoulders. 

He keeps on, “You tryin’ to get stabbed?” 

“What?”

“Dumb as hell, sneakin’ over there, middle’a the night.” 

Somehow, this makes you feel stupid. Like if he’s calling someone dumb... Damn. 

You walk the rest of the way to your trailer in silence with him following slightly behind you. 

“Lemme guess, ya left it unlocked, too,” he mutters, then opens your door himself. “Fuckin’ murderbait over here,” he grumbles.

He stands with his back to the open door and waits, making your body brush his as you walk in. 

Full body goosebumps. 

He stands there looking at you, and you eye his pants. Slowly, he steps into your personal space, and you back up almost to the nearest wall, but not against it. There, you stop. Letting him close. With his hand on the wall, he effectively traps you, blocking you from going any further into your trailer.

The smell of Newports fills your nostrils. He wets his lips and looks from your eyes to your chest, then  your mouth. 

He brings his nose to your neck and barely grazes you as he takes a long sniff. His nose brushes your cheek, and his lips follow. Just above a whisper, he warns, “Don’t do it again.” 

When you don’t answer, he pulls back and his hand comes to your neck. He’s gentle, not applying any pressure, but the presence of his large, strong hand is enough to feel like a threat. One that makes you more turned on than scared. “Got it?” he asks, looking at your mouth. Can’t be sure if he’s talking about going over there alone or leaving your trailer unlocked, and it doesn’t really matter. His eyes are wild, and it’s like he’s inspecting you, marveling at your face. 

You whisper, “Yes sir,” and await his next move. 

He takes his hand from your neck and cups your cheek to whisper, “Good girl.” 

You could actually melt.

He gives your chest another look and drops his hand, incidentally brushing his wrist against your breast before he pulls up his jeans. He bites the aluminum tab and turns to leave without another word. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to a glock sticking out of the back of his pants. 

He looks back at you and winks before shutting the door behind himself.  

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate your interest and engagement with him so much.

Please take care of yourselves ♥️

[aesthetically-dying101]

Very long but just asking if u wanna do a oneshot in this. What about the reader being a person transmigrating into the Jjk world , but for whatever they change they need to place someone else so like for example to prevent anyone from dying they need to die/or someone else needs too , so the reader tries to save nanami but then nanami dosent know that the reader has more than one life(reader will regress until she changes the fate of everyone) and so he breakdown realising the person whom he cherished gone for him but then she comes back alive but nanami forgot about the reader (he hasn't confessed but he liked the reader, and whom ever she saves they forget about her)

A/N: screaming and throwing up THANK YOU FOR THE ASK, anyways... yeah. took me a second to answer this cause i wanted to make it perfect hhehehehhehee

warnings: death. angst, sadness, pain and emotional torture, BUT, happy ending so don't come at me with pitchforks, also this is LONG, inaccurate description of being a midwife.

You never asked for this.

Hell, you didn’t even know what this was. Some cosmic punishment? Divine irony? Whatever cruel god—or thing—out there had pulled the strings to place you here, in a world where death loomed as naturally as breath, must’ve been laughing their omniscient ass off.

Because you were a joke.

Transmigration? Sure. Sounds exciting. New life, new opportunities, maybe a harem if fate was feeling extra generous. But this wasn’t one of those stories. No, this was a twisted little tragedy dressed up like a second chance. Every change you made to save someone—a person, a moment, a goddamn outcome—came with an unbreakable price.

One life for another.

And here you were, the cosmic accountant in charge of balancing that equation.

But no one told you how much it would hurt.

Nanami Kento’s life hung in the balance, and you couldn’t let it happen.

Not him. Not now. Not ever.

His death was etched into the timeline—clear as blood on pavement, sharp as the edge of a curse’s touch (fuck you Mahito). You’d seen it a dozen times, the vision playing out like a film reel stuck on a loop. The exact moment when his light would go out, when his voice would falter, and the world would swallow him whole. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the truth: if you wanted him to live, you had to die.

Again.

You wanted to scream. To cry. To rage against the stars and demand an explanation, a reprieve, anything but this endless, unbearable cycle. But there was no one to hear you. Just the echo of your own thoughts bouncing back, mocking you.

Because deep down, you knew.

You’d already made your choice.

I’m sorry, Kento.

The words echoed in your mind, a prayer he would never hear.

And then it happened. The shift. The reset.

It always felt like utter shit, like your nerves were being pulled from your body like some weird puppet.

The world trembled, reality folding in on itself like a film reel burning out, and you felt it—the sharp, searing pain of being erased. It was always like this. Your existence, your memories, every fleeting moment you’d shared with the people you saved—gone, wiped clean like you’d never been there at all.

When the world righted itself again, you were already fading. You saw Nanami kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he cradled your face. There was something in his eyes—grief, confusion, disbelief. Like he was trying to hold onto something he couldn’t quite name.

But even as you looked into his eyes, you could see it happening. The forgetting. The cruel, unrelenting hand of fate wiping you from his mind, piece by agonizing piece.

You wanted to scream, to beg the universe for mercy, to cling to the fragile thread of connection between you. But it was too late.

It was always too late.

*-*

Nanami woke up confused.

He hadn't noticed it at first.

The hollow feeling crept in quietly, like a thief slipping through a crack in the door. He chalked it up to exhaustion, a natural byproduct of this cursed life.

Another mission, another brush with death (fuck you Mahito), another day spent wondering why he was still fighting in a world that seemed determined to grind people like him into dust.

But it didn’t go away.

If anything, it grew worse. It gnawed at the edges of his mind, a shadowy presence that whispered something is wrong. He couldn’t place it. Couldn’t name it. But it was there, constant and maddening, like a tune he couldn’t quite recall no matter how hard he tried.

He sat alone in the faculty lounge, the quiet hum of the overhead lights doing little to ease the unease coiling in his chest. His fingers tapped absently against the table as he stared into the void of his coffee mug.

Empty.

Fitting.

“Nanami.”

He looked up to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorframe, his ever-present blindfold pushed slightly upward to reveal one piercing eye. He wore his usual grin, but there was something in his tone that felt off.

Concern, maybe. Or as close to it as Gojo ever got.

“Is this about the mission? You’ve been acting weirder than usual.”

Nanami sighed, his gaze dropping back to his mug. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, no,” Gojo said, striding into the room with that infuriating confidence of his. “You’re not. You’re sulking more than usual, and honestly, that’s saying something.”

“Gojo, I’m not in the mood.”

Gojo paused, leaning against the table, his grin fading just enough to reveal the seriousness beneath. “You sure? Because you don’t look fine. You look... I don’t know. Like you’ve lost something.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

Nanami stiffened, his fingers tightening around the handle of his mug. Lost something. Yes. That was exactly it. But what?

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. What was he supposed to say? That he felt like he was mourning something he couldn’t even remember? That every time he closed his eyes, he felt the weight of a name he couldn’t recall?

“Nanami?” Gojo’s voice softened, just barely. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Nanami admitted, the frustration bleeding into his voice. He set the mug down harder than he intended, the sound echoing in the empty room. “I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. “It’s like there’s a hole in my chest. Like something’s missing, but I can’t remember what. Or who.”

Gojo straightened, the teasing edge vanishing from his expression. “That’s... not nothing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the school’s ventilation system.

“Have you talked to Shoko?” Gojo finally asked.

Nanami shook his head.

“You should,” Gojo said, his tone oddly serious. “Maybe it’s... I don’t know, stress or something. But if it’s bothering you this much—”

“It’s not stress,” Nanami snapped, more forcefully than he intended. He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I just... I don’t think this is something a doctor can fix.”

Gojo studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable behind the blindfold. Then he gave a small nod. “Alright. But if you ever feel like talking about it... You know where to find me.”

Nanami didn’t respond, and Gojo left without another word.

*-*

Later, Nanami found himself in Shoko’s office, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he got there. She glanced up from her paperwork as he entered, raising an eyebrow.

“Kento,” she said, setting down her pen. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you in here. You’re usually too stubborn to admit when something’s wrong.”

“Maybe something is wrong,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

She gestured for him to sit, her expression softening. “Alright. What’s going on?”

Nanami hesitated. How was he supposed to explain this? How did you put words to something you didn’t understand yourself?

“I feel like...” He paused, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair. “Like there’s something I’ve forgotten. Or someone.”

Shoko tilted her head, her gaze sharp and analytical. “Forgotten how? Like a memory?”

“No,” Nanami said, shaking his head. “It’s... deeper than that. It’s not just a memory. It’s like... like a piece of me is missing. Like a part of my soul is just... gone.”

The words felt ridiculous coming out of his mouth, but they were the only ones that made sense.

Shoko frowned, her fingers drumming lightly against the desk. “That’s... specific. And unsettling.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Have you felt this way before?”

“No,” Nanami said, the frustration seeping into his voice again. “And that’s the problem. It’s not going away. It’s there every second of the day, this... emptiness. Like I’m mourning something I can’t even name.”

Shoko leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “That’s not exactly a common complaint, you know.”

“I figured as much.”

Silence settled over the room, heavy and uncomfortable.

“I can run some tests,” Shoko finally said. “But... if this is what I think it might be—if it’s something supernatural—I don’t know if I’ll be able to help.”

Nanami nodded, though it did little to ease the weight in his chest.

“Thank you,” he said, standing to leave.

“Kento.”

He paused, turning back to look at her.

“You said it feels like someone’s missing,” she said carefully. “If that’s true... maybe you haven’t forgotten them entirely. Maybe some part of you remembers.”

Her words struck a chord, resonating in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Maybe,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

As he walked out of her office, the ache in his chest remained, a hollow, unrelenting reminder of something—or someone—he couldn’t name. It felt like a wound that would never heal, a ghost haunting the edges of his mind.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing the most important part of himself.

*-*

The first thing you realized after your grand sacrifice was this: dying hurts like hell.

The second thing? Waking up hurts worse.

It wasn’t the physical pain—though that wasn’t exactly a picnic, either. No, it was the sharp, bone-deep knowledge that you were alive and he didn’t know you existed. That every shared smile, every subtle glance, every unspoken connection had been wiped from Nanami Kento’s memory, replaced with a hollow nothing.

You hadn’t saved him to be remembered, of course. You weren’t that naive. But knowing he was alive didn’t dull the ache of losing him in every other way.

He’s safe, you reminded yourself bitterly as you sat on the edge of your unfamiliar bed, staring blankly at the floor. Alive and safe and probably eating his bland little breakfast and being unreasonably handsome about it. Mission accomplished, right?

Your fingers dug into your thighs as you leaned forward, elbows on knees, the weight of the whole cursed situation pressing down on your chest.

So why does this feel like the universe took a baseball bat to my heart?

You knew the answer, of course. Because Nanami Kento wasn’t just some guy you decided to save on a whim. He was the man you loved—the man you’d given up everything for. And now? Now he’d never even know your name.

You laughed, but it was hollow, sharp, and bitter enough to leave a metallic taste in your mouth. “Fate’s got a hell of a sense of humor.”

*-*

You didn’t want to see him. You shouldn’t want to see him.

But you did.

Because you were weak, and desperate, and a little masochistic, apparently. So, two days after you’d died to save him, you found yourself lingering outside his apartment building like some sort of creep.

Not your proudest moment.

You leaned against a lamppost across the street, your hood pulled low over your face as you sipped on a lukewarm coffee you didn’t even want. The bitter liquid churned in your stomach, souring with every passing second, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

It was ridiculous. You’d already confirmed that he was alive, that your little act of self-sacrifice hadn’t been in vain. What more did you need?

Closure?

The word popped into your head uninvited, unwelcome, and far too smug for its own good.

“Shut up,” you muttered to yourself, taking another sip of the coffee just to have something to do with your hands.

And then, there he was.

Nanami Kento, stepping out of his building at precisely the time you knew he would. Because of course he was predictable like that. Reliable. Steady. A creature of habit in a world that refused to make sense.

He looked the same as ever: impeccably dressed, tie perfectly knotted, his expression set in that familiar mask of calm focus. There wasn’t a single hair out of place, not a single crack in his polished exterior.

Except for his eyes.

There was something in them—a flicker of something restless, like he’d spent the night wrestling with shadows he couldn’t see.

He feels it too, you thought, your chest tightening.

It was ridiculous. You knew the rules, knew how this worked. He didn’t remember you. He couldn’t. Whatever lingering sense of unease he felt wasn’t about you. It couldn’t be.

And yet...

You watched as he paused on the sidewalk, his gaze flickering briefly toward the sky. His hand brushed against his chest, just over his heart, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine that he was thinking of you.

Stupid.

Your grip on the coffee cup tightened, the cardboard creaking in protest. What were you even doing here? Stalking the man you loved like some lovesick ghost, hoping for what? A glimpse of the life you’d sacrificed yourself to save?

Pathetic, you thought bitterly, pushing off the lamppost.

He started walking, his steps measured and deliberate, his briefcase swinging lightly at his side. You didn’t follow him—you weren’t that far gone—but you couldn’t quite tear your eyes away from his retreating figure.

You’d saved him. That was supposed to be enough.

So why did it feel like you’d lost everything?

You turned on your heel and walked in the opposite direction, your coffee abandoned in a nearby trash can. The ache in your chest was sharp and unrelenting, a constant reminder that you’d traded your happiness for his life.

“Alive and safe,” you muttered under your breath, the words bitter on your tongue. “Good for him.”

You didn’t cry. Not here, not now. You’d done enough crying already, and it wasn’t going to change anything.

But as you walked away from the man who didn’t even know you existed, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything left of you that was worth saving.

It feels like a slow, suffocating kind of emptiness, a vast, hollow pit where your heart used to be, gnawing away at the edges of your soul. There's an unbearable weight in knowing that Nanami is alive, thriving even, and yet you are nothing to him now—just a forgotten ghost, a passing shadow.

The ache is constant, curling around your chest like a vice, tight and unforgiving, until every breath feels like a reminder of your own sacrifice, of how you gave up everything and still ended up with nothing.

It's an endless, gnawing bitterness—part of you yearning for him to remember, to feel something, and another part of you scornfully accepting that he never will.

*-*

Nanami's week continued as if nothing had changed. The world kept turning, the usual grind of missions and meetings pulling him along in its ceaseless flow. But somewhere, beneath the surface of his everyday routine, something felt... off.

He couldn't put his finger on it, not at first. Maybe it was the way his mornings felt slightly more mechanical, like a performance rather than a natural flow. Or how the quiet of his apartment seemed a little more suffocating, a little more... lonely. But he pushed those feelings aside. He was fine.

He was always fine.

But the cracks kept showing, like tiny splinters in a glass that was slowly starting to break.

It started with the mug.

He didn’t know why he even noticed it, but there it was, sitting on his kitchen counter like it belonged to him. Except it didn’t.

It was a chipped, faded thing—nothing fancy, just a simple ceramic mug with a faded print of a cartoon cat wearing glasses. Nothing about it said “Nanami Kento.” He didn’t even like cats. He was sure of it. But here it was, nestled among his other mugs, like it had always been there.

He frowned, his hand hovering over it for a moment before picking it up. It was strangely comforting in its own way, like a forgotten memory trying to claw its way back to the surface.

The feeling was fleeting, and he shoved it down, setting the mug back on the counter and shaking his head.

Just tired. Probably stress from the missions.

*-*

Then there was the stack of birthday cards in his drawer.

Three of them.

Why three?

Well, if he used his common sense, one card for one birthday right? So one for the past three years.

It wasn’t his birthday.

It wasn’t even close to his birthday. So why the hell were there three cards, all with the same, ridiculous design? A cheap, cartoonish glitter pattern with tiny animals dressed up in party hats. He hadn’t even taken the time to read the inside of them—didn't need to. They were empty. All of them.

Who the hell would give him empty birthday cards? Who would keep them?

His fingers tightened around the cards, his mind racing for an explanation that didn’t make him feel like he was losing his grip on reality. But there was nothing. Just these stupid, empty cards.

Maybe... maybe someone thought this was funny? A joke, maybe?

He tossed the cards back into the drawer, but the nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away. They’d been there for... how long? He couldn’t remember. But somehow, they’d never been thrown out.

*-*

The final straw came when he was sitting at his desk, trying to work through a mountain of paperwork, when his gaze drifted to the calendar on the wall.

It was a plain calendar, the kind you could buy anywhere. And yet, there was something strange about it.

A single Saturday was circled in bright red marker.

He blinked, staring at the date, but it didn’t make any sense. The day didn’t mean anything to him. He didn’t have any particular plans for it. He didn’t even remember marking it. So why the hell had he circled it? Why was it so... important?

And written underneath it, in neat handwriting that wasn’t his, were two words:

Confess.

Confess? Confess to who? What was he supposed to confess?

Nanami’s heart stuttered, the sense of confusion deepening into something more unsettling. His fingers hovered over the red circle, almost like he was afraid to touch it. The word confess kept echoing in his mind, but he couldn’t make sense of it.

Why the fuck had he written that??

Confess to who?

And more importantly, what??

His mind reeled. He stood up abruptly, moving to his window, the sunlight streaming in but doing little to ease the tightness in his chest.

What was wrong with him? Why did it feel like there was something he was forgetting? Something that should be right in front of him but wasn’t.

Something was missing.

*-*

By the time he’d gone through his apartment, looking for anything else out of place—anything else that might explain this gnawing sensation—he was more disoriented than ever. His apartment was... normal. Too normal. Too quiet.

And yet, the emptiness was suffocating.

He glanced back at the calendar, his mind racing to make sense of the tiny clues he’d uncovered. His gaze flickered back to the mug again, the stupid birthday cards, and that damn circled date. Something was trying to break through—something about all of it felt familiar, and yet, it also felt like a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

Why do I feel like I’m... forgetting something?

He slammed his fist against the desk in frustration. It wasn’t just stress. It wasn’t just exhaustion.

There was a woman.

He knew there had been.

It was as if a shadow was stretching just out of reach of his memory, a face he should recognize, a voice that should sound so familiar, but when he reached for it, it slipped through his fingers like smoke.

Who the hell are you?

The question whispered in his mind, though he could never quite bring himself to speak it out loud. He wasn’t sure who he was even asking. The woman in his mind? The empty mug? The cards? Or the damn calendar that was still taunting him with its inscrutable message?

Confess.

His eyes traced the word again, the curve of the letters taunting him like some secret he couldn’t uncover, a truth that was just beyond his grasp.

He had no answers.

Only the feeling that something was horribly, terribly wrong, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

And he hated it. Hated that the only thing that was clear was how much he missed something—or someone—he couldn’t even name.

*-*

The dreams came every night.

At first, they were fleeting—a blur of warmth and shadows, the outline of a person he couldn’t quite see, couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up with the lingering sensation of something—or someone—right there, beside him. A warmth that never quite vanished, like a hand that wasn’t his own, brushing against his skin. But as the nights wore on, the dreams grew clearer.

A face remained hidden, obscured by a blur that twisted like smoke, but the feeling, the presence, was unmistakable. He could feel her there—standing just out of sight, her energy a constant pull in the distance. She was with him in a hundred places. In his quiet apartment, where they’d sit together in silence, the only sound the ticking of a clock on the wall. In darkened streets, their hands brushing as they walked side by side, their pace in sync as if they’d done it a thousand times. And sometimes—too many times to be coincidental—she was with him in the chaos of battle, a fierce, unspoken bond in the way they fought together, backs aligned as if they'd shared this moment in a thousand lifetimes.

But there was no voice. No name.

He reached for her—desperately—his hands closing around air, but every time, she slipped away, like sand running through his fingers.

And every time, he woke up feeling more empty. More incomplete.

*-*

That afternoon, Nanami found himself standing in front of Shoko’s office door, the cool metal of the doorknob cold against his fingertips. His hand hovered there for a moment, indecision clawing at him.

What the hell was he even going to say?

He’d spent the last few days wrestling with the confusing, fragmented thoughts that had been consuming him—the dreams, the feelings of familiarity, the overwhelming sense of loss. He hadn’t told anyone about it. Not even Gojo, whose insufferable antics would only make a joke of it. This... this was different. It was deeper. More personal.

So why did he feel so damn foolish?

He knocked, twice, and waited.

Shoko didn’t even look up when she opened the door, just waved him inside. “What’s up, Nanami?”

“I need your help.” The words came out before he could think better of them. There was no room for hesitation now.

Shoko raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue.

“I... I’ve been having dreams,” he started, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “But they’re not just dreams. They feel like... memories.”

Shoko leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing with professional interest. “Memories of what?”

“I don’t know,” Nanami admitted, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “I keep seeing this... woman. She’s there in my dreams. Sometimes, she’s... with me. Sometimes we’re on missions together. Sometimes we’re just—” He paused, searching for the right words. “—just living. Like we’ve been doing it for years. And I know her. Or at least, I think I do. But I can’t remember her face, her voice, anything. She’s just—” He gestured helplessly with his hands. “Gone. But not. She’s there, and then she’s gone.”

Shoko didn’t respond immediately, just stared at him with that clinical detachment of hers. Her gaze flickered down to her desk, then back to him, her fingers tapping idly against the wood. “This sounds like... a curse. A complicated one, at that.”

Nanami clenched his jaw, frustration rising in his chest. “I don’t think it’s a curse.”

Shoko looked at him skeptically. “Then what the hell do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice tight. “But it’s real. These dreams—these moments—I feel them. I feel like I’ve lived them, even though I don’t remember. And every time I wake up, it’s like... like something’s been stolen from me. Something I can’t get back.”

Shoko’s expression softened just a fraction, but she didn’t offer him sympathy. Instead, she stared at him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. “You’ve been through a lot, Nanami. You’re tired. Maybe your mind’s just playing tricks on you.”

But Nanami was shaking his head before she even finished speaking.

“No, Shoko. I know. It’s something more. I know it’s something more than just dreams. It’s like...” He paused, trying to put it into words that wouldn’t make him sound like he was losing his mind. “It’s like... part of me is missing. And every night, in those dreams, I feel whole again, for just a moment.” He exhaled sharply. “And I need to know why. I need to know what’s happening.”

Shoko’s silence stretched for a long moment before she finally spoke, her voice low and serious.

“Okay. I’ll help you. But this is going to get messy, Nanami. You’re asking for answers to something that... well, I’m not sure even I can figure out.”

“I don’t care,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but his resolve hardening in his chest. “I need to know who she is. I need to know what she is.”

Shoko studied him for a moment longer, then finally nodded.

“Fine. We’ll start by looking into it. But don’t get your hopes up. Whatever this is, it’s not going to be easy.”

“Thank you.”

She gave a small, understanding nod. “Don’t thank me yet, Nanami. We’ve got a long way to go.”

But as Nanami left her office, the sinking feeling in his chest didn’t ease.

The dreams were only getting stronger, and with each passing night, the sense that something—someone—was slipping through his fingers became more unbearable.

And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on, chasing the ghost of a woman he couldn’t even remember.

*-*

While Nanami was out there, slowly losing his mind over a woman he couldn’t even remember—ahem, the love of his life, if you wanted to be dramatic about it—you, on the other hand, had begun the process of rebuilding.

And by rebuilding, I mean you’d started a new job at a maternity clinic because, well, why not?

It’s not like you had any better ideas. There was no easy way to wipe your mind clean of the raw emptiness left behind by everything you sacrificed, but you figured that at least keeping yourself busy would keep you from spiraling too far into a pit of self-loathing. Or worse, crawling back to Nanami, hoping for some impossible miracle.

No, that was done. That was over.

You were moving forward.

If you squinted hard enough, you could almost convince yourself that this was an entirely new chapter.

Except for the fact that every night, the same dreams haunted you. The ones where Nanami was there, out of reach, just like he always had been—just like he always would be.

But back to the whole maternity clinic situation.

You’d always liked helping people. It was in you—somewhere deep down there was a part of you that got a strange sense of satisfaction from seeing people thrive, seeing them smile, seeing them take their first steps into the future. And yeah, you could technically say you liked the job. You liked it more than you expected, even if the constant parade of new mothers and babies could get overwhelming.

It was a messy, noisy job, full of too much emotion and far too many bodily fluids, but it paid the bills. And after everything you’d been through, the daily grind was starting to feel normal.

Normal.

Isn’t that just a beautiful word?

“Miss, are you okay?”

You blinked and looked down at the tiny baby you were holding. She was staring up at you with wide, curious eyes, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Great. Now the babies are judging me.

“Yeah,” you muttered, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

Thinking about the fact that I’m alive and that’s probably the worst joke the universe has ever played on me.

The baby cooed, her tiny hands reaching out, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. You were a sucker for these little ones. Maybe that’s why you didn’t mind coming into work every day, despite the broken pieces of yourself you still couldn’t quite piece together.

“Just don’t get too attached,” you whispered to the baby, a wry grin on your lips. “I’ve got a serious problem with losing things.”

The door to the nursery opened with a soft squeak, and one of the nurses came in with a new batch of newborns, as if this was some kind of rotating assembly line.

You rolled your eyes. “Great. More to babysit.”

But the nurse—Olivia, you think—flashed you a quick smile. “Someone’s got to do it. You’re the best we’ve got.”

You gave her a sharp, exaggerated nod, but internally, you felt your chest tighten. She was being nice, of course, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that the world had moved on without you.

You had no one. You had no one to go home to, no one to sit with after a long day. Just you, and the hollow ache of everything you’d lost.

The baby in your arms kept cooing, her tiny hands clenching and unclenching, her innocent gaze following your movements with unspoken trust.

Isn’t it funny?

The world had forgotten you. It had forgotten what you had done, what you had given up.

And yet, here was a tiny, helpless being, relying on you.

At least someone still cared.

You sighed, shifting the baby carefully, and then continued with your work. You didn’t have time to dwell on anything else. Not when there were bills to pay, lives to help, and—honestly—no one else to lean on but yourself.

But late at night, when the clinic was quiet, and you were alone in your small apartment, the ache in your chest came flooding back.

And that’s when you let yourself feel the weight of it all—the unbearable emptiness that gnawed at you, the broken pieces that never quite fit together.

*-*

Nanami was fucking close- no, not in that sense you heathens- close to finding who she was.

Or who she had been.

If she was still alive, that is.

The frustration gnawed at him. The hours, the endless search through obscure texts and records, trying to piece together the impossible, the fragments of a life that had slipped through his fingers. There was no name—at least, not one that made sense to him. No face, no voice, only the echo of her in the pit of his chest. Every night, he was haunted by dreams of a woman, someone he knew, but couldn't remember.

It was maddening.

The days felt longer now. Each one bled into the next, a sea of monotony that only made the absence of her sharper. His soul ached with every breath.

Nanami was fucking close—no, not in that sense, you heathens—close to finding out who she was.

Or who she had been.

If she was still alive, that is.

The frustration gnawed at him. The hours, the endless search through obscure texts and records, trying to piece together the impossible, the fragments of a life that had slipped through his fingers. There was no name—at least, not one that made sense to him. No face, no voice, only the echo of her in the pit of his chest. Every night, he was haunted by dreams of a woman, someone he knew, but couldn't remember. It was maddening.

The days felt longer now. Each one bled into the next, a sea of monotony that only made the absence of her sharper. His soul ached with every breath.

Shoko had been the one to find it.

While Nanami had been lost in his own spiral, pacing endlessly in his apartment like a man on the verge of a breakdown, Shoko had been methodical, the scientist in her determined to pull any thread that might lead them to the truth.

The text had been buried deep in the archives. Something so ancient, it felt like it belonged in a legend. The words were cryptic, written in old, faded ink, but it was the one clue they had. One tiny, fragile thread that might pull them out of the dark.

"To save one life, another must be sacrificed. In the space between life and death, memories are traded. The price is steep: to save the one you love, you will lose the memory of them forever. Their existence will be erased from your mind, as though they were never there. But their life will be spared, and you will never know the weight of their absence. You will carry their love without ever remembering them."

Nanami had stared at the text, his heart pounding in his chest. His breath had caught in his throat.

"Sacrificed."

The word hit him like a truck.

Had she been the one to save him? To save them—to save everyone—in that one moment, that single act that had erased her from his memory and allowed him to carry on, to fight, to live?

It was the only explanation that made sense. The only reason why he couldn’t remember her.

"You need to remember."

Shoko’s voice had broken through his spiraling thoughts, a sharp, firm whisper. "You need to stop pretending that you can live without her."

Nanami’s hands had clenched around the paper, his knuckles white with the force of it. He didn’t need anyone to tell him how badly he had failed her. How every step he had taken without knowing the truth had been a step away from her, from the only person who had mattered.

*-*

The ache had only deepened after that.

It was impossible to shake. The idea that she had chosen this. That she had willingly sacrificed herself—not her life, but her very existence—for him. For them.

Nanami had spent nights unable to sleep, his thoughts swirling around that ancient text.

Every night, he dreamed of her. Those moments of tenderness, of quiet exchanges, of gazes that said everything without a word. The fragments of intimacy—so real, so achingly real—only to wake up to the cold emptiness of the morning, where she no longer existed in his mind. But he felt her. She was there, in his heart, and it was killing him.

He had to find her. He had to remember.

That was how Nanami found himself sitting across from Shoko, the flickering candlelight in the corner doing little to soothe his raw nerves. His chest tightened with every passing second, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table in frustration.

“Shoko,” he said, his voice strained. “What if I can’t find her? What if she’s gone for good?”

Shoko looked at him, her expression unreadable, and for the first time, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—pity, maybe, or understanding.

“You will find her,” Shoko replied, her voice quiet but firm. “But you have to remember. You can’t just pretend it’s not eating you alive. You need to go to her. To find her, Kento.”

Nanami clenched his jaw, feeling the words settle deep within him like a brand. Find her.

The idea was both comforting and terrifying. He wanted to find her, more than anything. But what if she didn’t want to be found? What if—

“Shoko,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “What if she hates me for not remembering? For not knowing her? For letting her slip away while I lived my life, as though she never mattered?”

Shoko’s gaze softened, and for a moment, Nanami swore he saw a flicker of her own vulnerability. But then, she reached across the table and placed her hand on his.

“She won’t hate you, Nanami. She loved you enough to sacrifice everything. If she’s alive—if you find her—you’ll remember.”

*-*

That night, Nanami stood before the mirror, his heart pounding. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. The reflection staring back at him was a man who had everything and nothing at the same time.

He felt... hollow.

Like a part of his soul was missing, and no amount of fighting, no amount of missions, no amount of anything could fill the void.

She was gone. And yet, she wasn’t.

Every corner of his mind screamed her name, but when he reached for it, there was only silence.

The ache was unbearable, a constant, gnawing pain that refused to be ignored.

And he knew—he knew—that if he didn’t find her soon, if he didn’t get the chance to say what needed to be said, to apologize for everything he couldn’t remember, that hole in his chest would never heal.

“Please,” he whispered to no one. “I need you. Please. Come back to me.”

*-*

Across the city, in a small, humble maternity clinic, you sat by the window, staring out into the night. Your thoughts drifted—aimless, bitter—pushing away the ache that clung to your ribs, the loneliness that wrapped itself around you like a second skin.

You had tried to move on. You had. But the memory of him... his face... it never left.

And you didn’t know how long you could bear this. The feeling of loving him without him even knowing who you were.

Maybe you weren’t meant to be in his life after all.

Maybe he was better off without you.

But there was a part of you, buried deep within, that refused to believe that.

And so, every night, you waited for the moment when your fate—and his—would finally collide.

But deep down, you couldn’t shake the fear that even then, even when you stood before him, he wouldn’t remember. He wouldn’t know you.

And that was the cruelest thing of all.

*-*

Nanami wasn’t losing his mind.

Or rather, he had been, but not in the way that would’ve required a padded room and a team of specialists. His dreams—those fragmented glimpses of a life he couldn’t remember—had finally given him something tangible.

Her eyes.

Well, yeah, of course she had eyes. Most people had eyes. But hers—they weren’t just a detail anymore. They were vivid now, clear and bright and hers. He could see them in his mind as if they’d been etched into the fabric of his soul.

And with her eyes came the cascade of other memories. Little snippets, pieced together like the most maddening puzzle he’d ever tried to solve.

He remembered why his calendar had that red circle on the Saturday, the word confess written neatly in the corner.

He had been planning something for her.

Not just something—everything.

A date. A bouquet of flowers that he had agonized over choosing because he didn’t know if she liked lilies or tulips more (he’d ended up getting both, just in case). A quiet dinner at a little restaurant he’d scouted out weeks in advance. And then, when the moment was perfect, when the words didn’t threaten to strangle him, he was going to tell her.

Tell her how much she meant to him. Tell her that she had been the only light in his life in far too long. Tell her that maybe—just maybe—she could consider giving a relationship with him a shot.

The memory hit him like a freight train, and he nearly staggered under the weight of it.

Why didn’t I do it?

Because something had happened. Something catastrophic enough to tear her from his life and his mind. The memory was blurry, smeared at the edges, but he knew—he knew—it hadn’t been her choice. Not entirely.

All of it had been taken. Wiped from his mind. Gone.

And now, the universe had dangled this thread in front of him, taunting him with the knowledge of what he’d lost.

“I’ll grovel,” he whispered into the empty room, his voice breaking. “I’ll get on my knees and beg. Just... just let me find her. Let me have this chance, please.”

He didn’t care who he was pleading to—the universe, some higher power, anyone who would listen. He just needed her back.

*-*

The clinic smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender, a bizarre combination that Nanami didn’t have the mental bandwidth to process.

The maternity clinic. A quiet place, where life began anew.

The irony of it wasn’t lost on him.

He’d been searching for weeks, going through every shred of information he could find, following every lead, until it had finally brought him here.

To her.

He didn’t know how, but he knew. His chest tightened the moment he stepped through the doors. The air felt heavier, charged, like he was standing at the edge of something monumental.

But before he could ask the receptionist anything, a heavily pregnant woman standing nearby let out a sharp gasp of discomfort, her hand pressing against her lower back.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” Nanami asked, his instincts kicking in immediately.

She nodded, her face tight with pain. “Yeah, just... give me a second. These Braxton Hicks contractions are no joke.”

“Here.” He offered his arm without hesitation, guiding her to a nearby chair. “Take a seat. I’ll get someone to help.”

As he straightened, his gaze shifted—and froze.

There she was.

Standing just a few feet away, clipboard in hand, her scrubs neatly pressed, looking every bit like she belonged in this chaotic, bustling clinic.

He almost couldn’t breathe.

She was here. She was alive.

The relief hit him like a tidal wave, but it was quickly replaced by something deeper, heavier. An ache that clawed at his chest, screaming at him to close the distance between them, to grab her, to never let her go again.

She hadn’t noticed him yet—too focused on her work, on jotting down notes. But when she finally looked up and saw him, her expression froze.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

You blinked, your lips parting slightly as if to say something, but then your gaze shifted to the woman he’d just helped, and something inside you seemed to harden.

Of course, you jumped to the worst conclusion.

He’s moved on.

Your mind supplied the bitter thought before you could stop it.

Four months.

Four measly months, and here he was, looking like he’d just stepped out of a magazine ad, escorting a pregnant woman like some kind of domestic god (and a good looking one at that)

And the worst part? He looked happy.

Your heart twisted painfully, but you shoved the emotion down. You didn’t have the right to feel this way. You'd made your choice.

“Excuse me,” you said, your voice clipped as you approached them. “Is there something I can help with?”

Nanami turned to you, and the intensity in his gaze nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“You,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I’m looking for you.”

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N” His voice cracked slightly as he said it, the weight of your legal name tumbling from his lips with a reverence that made your chest ache. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Your clipboard slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor, but you didn’t even notice.

Because in that moment, as he stood there, staring at you like you were the last thing keeping him tethered to this earth, a part of you wanted to hope.

But hope was dangerous.

Wasn’t it?

A/N: gosh i love angst, but i love a happy ending. I hope this wasn't too meh, and i hope i didn't completely missunderstand your request anon, i didn't know if you wanted a happy ending or not. Yes the last part i was writing in "she" then went to "you", yes it's on purpose.

Masterlist

:)

[riri0000i]

Choso had always been the easy target. Since kindergarten. He was mentally weak, anti-social, and never responded to any provocation. Girls called him creepy, a freak, while boys raised their hands at him as a "joke". He spent mornings at school trying to not be noticed by people like you, without any success, of course. He had no one to hang out with and the only thing he did outside school was taking care of his siblings and pulling all-nighters in front of the computer, talking to the only people who could understand his loneliness.

A real loser.

" Oops, my bad Choso!" You chimed with a fake guilty face. Your friends were all laughing, some even taking pictures with their smartphones. Choso didn't move an inch from his chair, letting you pour the probably expired milk carton on his head.

" Hey! Don't frame me with this creep too." You said, noticing that a friend of yours was also taking pictures of you.

" It's not like the teacher cares anyway. " She responded. She was right: teachers gained nothing from defending students like Choso. Your school was one of those elite schools, mainly attended by people like you: rich and mean, with disgusting pastimes like making other people's lives miserable. And then there were those like Choso, who had earned the scholarship by studying.

" I know, but today I forgot to put my lashes on." Your answer made your friends laugh again and you joined them. Before class began you looked at Choso, drenched in milk. You met his tired eyes, as soon as he noticed your gaze he looked down. His weakness pissed you off.

“ Pathetic dog.”

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

The chemistry professor was explaining biomolecules, there were maybe five students who were actually listening to him. You were not one of them: you were scrolling on your phone and the few times you looked up you watched how your friends sitting next to Choso tormented him, by kicking at his chair or throwing pieces of paper at him. Nothing new.

" For this topic I would like you to work in pairs by doing a project. I will select the pairs based on your grades." The teacher said before clearing his throat for the umpteenth time.

Shit, this is the worst.

You had seen the scoreboard from the last chemistry test and you were last while Choso... He was first, just like in any other subject. The teacher began to list the pairs and, as you predicted, you ended up with that loser. When Choso heard your name he felt his stomach turn in anxiety, he feared you more than anyone else. To him you were simply cruel. There was no sign, however slight, of kindness in your soul. To make it worse was your pretty face which, at first glance, was impossible to associate with your awful personality. Choso would be lying if he said he didn't find you attractive. Maybe you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.

" Turn in the project by next week." The teacher concluded before the bell rang.

" Can't believe that you have to do this with that creep!" Your friend laughed.

After a sigh: " Fuck it, I hate that teacher. Bet he did it on purpose." You said with a pissed tone. You noticed that Choso was watching you. You got up from your chair with another annoyed sigh and positioned yourself in front of his desk: hands on your hips and a fake smile on your lips, the usual one you used to make before saying a cruel comment.

" I don't want to be seen hanging around with you, much less in my house." You spat.

Choso replied in his insecure, shaky voice: " We can do it at my house... I warn you I have brothers so—

" Okay. See you later."

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

Number not Saved : 602. Apartment building X. Near Y station.

You : I'm taking the train rn.

Choso was nervous. It was his first time having a girl at home. Fortunately his brothers were staying late at school that day. He quickly took a shower, getting rid of the smell of milk that earned him several stares by strangers. Being the loser he was, he asked for advice on Reddit to avoid being overly weird.

Knock Knock.

Choso jumped at the knocks on the door, interrupting his reading “How to Look More Sociable in 3 Steps”. You arrived a little late, not expecting the train to take so long.

" Come in..." He said, opening the door for you. You didn’t even say hello, you just sighed, as if you were forced to do the hardest work job on earth. As you looked around (It was the first time you had seen such a small apartment) Choso couldn’t look away from your body. You were so cute in that little outfit. It was the first time he had seen you without your uniform outside school. He would never admit it but Choso stalkled your instagram account several times (resulting in messy erections every time you posted bikini photos). The miniskirt you were wearing was surely going to distract him. He felt something twitching in his pants. Face instantly pink in embarrassment.

Oh. Oh no. No. God, no.

“ Are we doing this stupid project or what?” You asked, breaking the silence. Lucky him, he was wearing loose clothes. You didn’t notice anything.

“ Oh. Yeah… Follow me.” He responded quietly, his body tensing up. You noticed how Choso loses some of his loser appearance without the school uniform. He wore black sweatpants, a baggy sweater and his usual glasses. If he was one of your friends you might have complimented his look.

" Uhh.. You can sit on the bed… Or on the chair, you decide." He said in his usual passive tone. You huffed, sitting on his bed. It smelled like him. You were quite disappointed by the normality of his room (yes, you were expecting an otaku room: full of action figures, bodypillows and posters).

That miniskirt…I bet she did it on purpose. The sight of a pretty girl like you on his bed made Choso’s mouth go dry. He hated you but at the same time it was impossible to not admire your beauty.

" Hope you don't expect me to do anything about that project, do you, Choso?" You said with a smile on your lips. Obviously, Choso knew he would do most, if not all, of the work. He nodded, muttering something to himself. Before you could add any mean comment Choso sat down and started typing on his keyboard. Your initial idea was to find something weird, or childish, in his room and bully him but it was all so… Normal. With the excuse of going to the bathroom you explored the house.

Oh. One of his brothers is Itadori Yuuji? You looked at one of the photos hanging in the hallway. Although he didn't attend your school, Itadori Yuuji was quite popular. And he was popular for good reasons: athletic, generous and nice. You returned to Choso's room, who seemed focused on his work. You looked at him. It annoyed you to admit it but—he had a nice face. Cute, if you had to be honest. But he was unable to maintain a good self-image: he stuttered and couldn't keep eye contact, dark circles partly hidden by the nerdy glasses he wore, hair loose and messy and his posture screamed "I'm weak.”

Ugh. How can Choso be related to Itadori?

After a while: " I'm getting bored." You said as you approached Choso. His heart missed a beat, the last time you had said those words one of your friends put out a cigarette on Choso's palm just to entertain you.

" Uh, umm.. I doubt there's anything fun here..."

" Don't you have any games on your computer?" Choso was taken aback by your question.

" …Y-Yes?" He answered but Choso was sure you had other intentions, like finding another way to bully him. Standing up, you placed yourself beside him, leaning against his chair. Choso could smell a sugary scent from your clothes and hair, it was intoxicating. You watched how his long fingers trembled.

Oh, his hands are so big.

" Uh, uhmm y-you can sit here… I'll get another chair— Before Choso could add another word you sat on his lap. His body froze in surprise. Your ass on his crotch. You rested your back on his muscular chest, waiting for him to start playing. How was he supposed to respond to this?

" Oh, I like this game." You commented as if nothing was wrong.

“ R-Really..? I’ll p,play it then…”

He’s already hard.

To hold the controller Choso had to practically hug you. The way he would struggle to stay still and whisper an "I'm sorry" every time he accidentally touched you was so funny to you. But it was even more fun to rub your warm pussy against his erected sex, feeling his hot breath against the skin of your neck.

“ D-Don’t … P-Please, don’t move like that..” He nervously gulped. Because of that miniskirt Choso could sense the slightest movement you made against his body and thanks to that miniskirt you could feel how Choso's erection throbbed against your panties.

“ Like what?” You teased, shifting your weight again. Choso's body was trembling. You could feel his heartbeat racing. He was squeezing the controller to maintain his calm, feeling his inside burning at the softness of your body against his crotch. The miniskirt you were wearing was not helping at all, allowing Choso the sight of your lacy pink panties. It made his head dizzy and his erection harder, almost painful. How can a girl like you be so naughty?

" I.. S-Stop teasing me." He finally spoke up, trying to sound angry. His voice shaky and weak. You smiled and finally turned your body, now face-to-face with him. The movement resulted in another rubbing against his cock, now covered with a layer of sticky precum. Choso's face was red with embarrassment, his eyes glossy and he tried his best to hold back little moans by biting his lip. He was a mess.

" Choso~" Having you in front of him was wayy worse. You were so pretty and so close , your soft tits pressed against his sweaty chest. On your face that mischievous, almost cruel, smile. Your cheeks pink and your breath left shivers on his skin. His tip poked your wet cunt. You could feel he was big.

Maybe eight inches? It’s always the quiet ones.

" I, I can't take it anymore, p-please..." He whined like a little puppy. You gently moved a few strands of hair behind his ear and took off his glasses, throwing them on the floor. Shit, he was really handsome like that. You kissed him. Choso’s first kiss. Your lips soft and hot, leaving trails of a cherry gloss on his. He moaned inside your mouth, unable to follow your lewd rhythm. Your scent, your taste and your touch were making him obsessed, resulting in a messy and incoherent kiss.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is too much. He reached his limit. The same second you tried to reach the tip of his cock with your fingers he came, sobbing your name and leaving a cum stain on his pants.

“ I,I’m s—sorry…” His voice breathless, dick still twitching in pleasure. He continued to apologize with teary eyes, without knowing how erotic that scene was to you.

I want to fuck him.

[wonderful-writers-au]

Why Can't You Stop Part 2 (NSFW)

Sociopath!Ethan Landry X Innocent!F!reader

W/C - 1.5 K

Summary - You've started to notice some recent chnges in Ethans behavior towards you and he can't help but watch you from afar.

Warnings - Making out, kinda foreplay but like nothing happens, fluff, kinda smut, angst, stalking, perv ethan, inno but kinda bimbo y/n, blood and gore, underage drinking, mentions of stalking

A/N - I'm open to requests guys!

*first part

*last partt (COMING SOON)

You couldn't deny it, ever since that moment on your porch with Ethan, everything has been awkward, well for you anyways. Ethan hasn't said a word and it's been three weeks since everything happened. You wanted him to talk to you about it.

"Y/N, what's up? you've been awfully quiet today." Tara notes, everyone at the dinner table then looks at you, all the conversation in the dining room coming to a complete stop. You hated how he was just sitting there and having a conversation with anyone but you.

"Nothing, it's just...there's someone on this table who won't even fucking talk to me, and I don't know what the hell I did!" You half yell. Ethan's eyes go wide in shock as he squirms in his chair. You get up and sigh. "I'm tired, I'm going home, bye guys."

"Oh, bye..." Mindy trails off, as you start to leave and start to close the door, someone's doc martins stop the door from fully closing. "Ethan, please, just leave me be." You say and he chuckles.

"You know I could never do that." He says in a dark tone as he starts to walk with you. "Look, about me not taking to you...you're a distraction Y/N, a big one and there's some big shit going on and I can't date you, it'll get in the way of everything."

"You could've told me that two or possibly one week ago, but now! I thought I did something wrong! I thought I fucked up and you hated me! But no, it's because your too worried about some big thing you have going on!" You rant, you didn't even care how selfish that sounded to yourself. He should've told you.

"Look, I know, but let me walk you home." He asks and you nod. You were terrified of New York streets at night, all the alley ways and homeless people who your parents taught you that they'll kidnap you if you're walking on the streets alone at night. Horrible plan really, now your terrified of them in general.

The rest of the walk to your little apartment is silent, until you get to the door. "Shit, I forgot my keys and Chad is staying over at Sam's, can I chill here?" Ethan asks. You slightly grimace at the idea of him staying over. You don't want him to kiss you and never talk to you for ages again. You nod your head and open the door.

Why couldn't Ethan just stay over at Sam's as well? "I was probably just going to watch a movie, if you wanted to join, you could...if you wanted too." You say to Ethan as you shift on your feet, the tension thickening in the air.

"Yeah, sure! Thanks for the offer." Ethan smiles and you smile awkwardly. As you both get settled in on the couch, you play a random movie as you both are on the other ends of the couch, furthest away from each other. "Look, Y/N, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ghosted you and I certainly should've talked to you."

You sigh a little and he moves closer to you on the couch and grabs your hand. He slowly starts to caress the back of your head with his thumb lightly. "You really should've." You squeak. He pouts a little and then shifts his position so he's facing you directly. He then moves his hand up to your cheek, watching you carefully. Unwantedly, butterflies flutter in your stomach making you regret everything about this decision. His face slowly leans in and closes the gap of space between you both and his lips meet yours.

You kiss him back and let the pleasure take over you. He cups the back of your neck, and he slides his tongue across your bottom lip, slowly but surely, earning a light moan from you. You were going insane, he touches you, treats you like a precious piece of stone and then degrades you when he feels like it. And some reason why, you lusted for it, every bit of attention he could give you wanted. As he lightly pulls of his shirt and then starts to unbutton yours, you grab his neck and kiss his jawline.

As your shirt is fully of your body, Tara slams the door open with Chad, Mindy and Anika and she screams "Party time Y/N! Shit- Sorry did I interrupt something?" You and Ethan scurry off each other and just like that, his other side hides away again. You weren't ready for the next moments of the day.

You got ready in your room with Tara and Mindy, Anika was getting snacks in your kitchen. "So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Mindy says. "Yeah, Ethan's boner." Tara laughs and I stare at her wide eyed. Mindy laughs a little. "When? When did this start? We need details"

"I don't know, a couple weeks ago he came to my apartment and we kissed." You shrug. Mindy looks shocked and Tara looks confused. "Wait- virgin, shy, would never kiss a girl, Ethan?" Mindy asks and I nod. "But he wasn't like that, he was brave, endearing and kind of psychotic."

"That's crazy." Anika says, walking in with a bowl of chips. "No, cause like he doesn't seem like that kind of guy." You smile a little and nod. "He really doesn't." You smile.

You all arrive to the party, everything becoming a blur as a red cup gets placed in your hands and quickly gets switched out for a new one once you've finished.

After a while, you start to notice a blonde guy in the corner, taking a slow interest in you, staring at you, biting his lip when he looks at you and he slowly starts to walk his way over. "Hey, wanna dance?" The guy asks, you shake your head, having a slight feeling that you know how this is going to pan out.

"No thank you, I'm just going to stand here and wait for my boyfriend." You lie, it wasn't a full lie, you were waiting for Ethan, and you wanted to talk to him about what you guys were. Someone's hands crawl around your waist and a pair of lips attach to your neck.

"Hey babyy." Ethan slurs from behind you, "Please don't give my girlfriend anymore trouble bro, or tomorrow morning there'll be an ice pack on your face." The guy puts his hands up in the air defenselessly and walks away. You giggle lightly and turn around and you wrap your arms around Ethan's neck. Your lips meet with Ethan's and you couldn't contain yourself to a slight moan as the alcohol or your reaction to all this fizzles in the pit of your stomach.

You smile as you pull away and smirk, "Want to ditch and go back to my place?" He asks and you shake your head. "Nope, I'm here for Tara and the girls, I am here for them." "Then, meet me up in the first bedroom in ten minutes, there will be a great surprise for you." He winks as he pulls away from you and walks up the stairs.

After about ten minutes of finishing two drinks, you start to walk up the stairs, you also start to realize that you haven't seen the blonde guy ever since that thing between him and Ethan. You open the door to the first bathroom and your eyes open wide in shock.

The blonde was there, you close the door as blood was everywhere, his body was teared apart, and he was eating his own eyes as trails of blood flowed down his face and you can't help but scream. There ghost face was in all his glory and as the mask was removed, you gasp.

The curly haired boy you had just kissed was behind the mask. "E-Ethan, why?" You ask, terrified of all the possibilities of what could happen to you. The knife was still in his hands, and it was same one from that night on the porch, people died that night as well from an infamous ghost face killer.

"Well, baby, let me start from the start." He half slurs. He walks around you and starts playing with strands of your hair. You flinch at him touching you. "When I saw you for the first time, I knew you were the one for me baby, I started watching you, stealing things of yours, then my, what you call them, my co-workers were going on about killing you and we just couldn't have that, you mean way too much to me."

He then places kisses on your neck and traces the knife across your cheek, blood spreading from the blonde that was in front of you. "So, I killed them, it wasn't a part of the plan, baby. But I knew you'd be safe. You're just so trusting and it's sad to see people hit on you and you just fucking stand there, so I killed all of them, it really helped me get rid of my anger."

You sob as you see the dead person in front of you. "Why would you kill people for me?" You ask and Ethan chuckles. "Because...baby...you're like a drug."

🎯 = @idky5 @acornacreacure @nowitsmissing @1950schick

[its-time-to-write]

perhaps some angst?? reader and jamie break up but fluff at the end because he wins her back 🥹

I’m sorry this took me so long 😭 Not always the best at writing angst. Thanks for requesting!

can’t really say i’m enjoying it now

“What the fuck, Jamie,” you say. “What the actual fuck.”

You’re in Richmond’s boot room after training. You’d been upstairs with Rebecca which is a bit of why you’re even in this mess. 

After all, she’s the one who told you he’d changed.

She’s the one who told him to just go for it.

She’s the one who showed you the interview clip.

You might be on the offensive, but Jamie’s on the defensive.

“I don’t get why you’re so fuckin upset, babe,” he shrugs, attempting nonchalance. His eyes, however, are just as fiery as yours. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not that big-not that big a deal? Then what is a big deal, Jamie? And don’t ‘babe’ me, you are in absolutely no place to pull that shit after that shit you pulled.”

In another circumstance, that turn of phrase would have made Jamie laugh. Would have made him comment on your command of the English language.

Would have made him kiss you.

Now however, he just throws his hands in the air and says, “It was just an interview. Those are things you say in an interview. ‘Case you forgot, I’m a fucking famous footballer.”

“How can I forget?” you shoot back, arms crossed, “it’s all you ever fucking talk about.”

“At least I’m not a self-absorbed grad student who thinks she’s all that because she ‘makes her own money,’ and ‘has a real job.’” Here Jamie mocks your voice, high pitched and whiny.

All you can see is red. “Damnit Jamie, that is a far cry from telling the entire world about how grateful I am that you decided to date me, and then bragging about how fucking out-of-my-league you are. I’m not some goddamn charity case! And then you had the audacity to make jokes about our private life on live television. Live television, Jamie. Do you know how many people saw that? And are going to see that? It’s not just a joke about yourself anymore. It involves me too.” 

Jamie looks at you, eyes narrowed. He knows he should back down, but he won’t. It’s not in his nature to surrender a fight. “It’s not like anyone’s going to fuckin care, anyway. You’re not even famous, so who gives a shit?”

That catches you off guard. You weren’t famous, that was true, but there were a few more results in a google search of your name these days. Because of Jamie. Some were kind, some were not. 

You knew you had been prickly about it, because you wanted people to know you for you, not as some footballer’s girlfriend. You wanted to be known for your graduate research, for helping people, for something that mattered. 

You had been lashing out as a result, flexing your presumed intelligence in a less-than-graceful manner.

You had seen Jamie bottle up every retort, but now it was all coming out.

He was wrong, but so were you. You know you should back down, but you won’t. It’s not in your nature.

You whisper, “I give a shit, Jamie Tartt. I do. It’s my name but it doesn’t even belong to me anymore. It’s always tied to yours and I can’t get it back.”

You glare at each other in silent anger. The air feels so thick that you could reach out and put a piece in your pocket. There are hot, angry tears in your eyes, and Jamie’s face is red, eyebrows knit together. Your arms are in fists at your sides, and Jamie’s are tightly crossed. Each of you sending the message, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

Finally Jamie speaks up. “You want your fucking name back?” he asks, far too calmly. “You can have it. We’re done.”

For a moment, all you can hear is roaring in your ears. Then- “Fuck you. Fine. You think I’m a self-righteous bitch? At least I know who I am, and I’m working on it instead of pretending to be something I’m not. Have a nice life, Jamie,” you reply, icy voice cooling the fire in your veins. You turn sharply on your heel and walk out of the boot room. You don’t slam the door. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Jamie kicks a bench and lets out a single, “Fuck!”

—

That was three months ago. You booked the first flight you could find back to your parents’ house before you even told them you were coming home for a visit. They were overjoyed to have you, despite the circumstances of your return. 

You managed to keep it together right until the moment you saw your dad’s face at baggage claim, and then you felt everything fall apart. He hugged you as though it was the only thing keeping you from shattering into a million pieces, and you just sobbed.

You spend a month on their couch, slogging through schoolwork and binge-watching tv. Your mom walks with you every morning, claiming she needs someone to keep her from cutting corners. In reality, the fresh air is good for you. She lets you walk in silence, and squeezes your hand the exact moment before a tear falls from your eye.

“He’s just a young man,” she says, “They do dumb things. He’ll learn. I’m sorry he had to learn through you, but you won’t feel this way forever.” 

You tell her once this feels like taking his side. She laughs and says, “Having grace for someone is not the same as taking their side. And anyway, which one of you have I let live in my house for the past three weeks?”

Your dad is less forgiving. You hear your mom talking him out of buying a plane ticket to London. “Violence is not the answer for this,” she says.

You can’t hear your dad’s reply, but it’s something along the lines of “Just wanted to talk to him.”

Your mom laughs. Your dad is downright frightening when he wants to be, violence or no. You catch a snip of “Poor boy, his father- can’t be expected- not excusing-” before you put in some earbuds and slip off to sleep.

Your mom is on your side. She just has the unnerving tendency to understand both sides of an argument. You’re grateful that she doesn’t make any snide comments about Jamie like your sister does, because there’s a part of you that just hurts because that part still loves him, and it feels like slander on his name is slander on yours. 

You try not to note that your name is still inextricably intertwined with his.

— 

Back in Richmond, Jamie is throwing himself fully into football. He doesn’t talk or joke so much anymore, just silently goes through training. He plays better, if anything. He kicks the ball with such precision during matches that the game is won if he’s even remotely near the goal. He is vicious, unforgiving, vengeful toward himself. The team leaves him alone, except Roy and Ted.

Roy still takes him for training every morning and Ted comes over to Jamie’s house with lunch every weekend.

Jamie is still silent.

—

You spend the next two months in Richmond, trying to make new memories in the places that only remind you of Jamie. It’s almost impossible, because all you can think about is his smile, and how his sharp canines glinted in the light. How his hands would catch your waist and thumbs would draw circles on your hipbones. How he could bring you to tears of laughter in a single sentence or well-timed look.

You’re almost at a point of forgiveness when you see a tabloid. You don’t even register the picture because all you can focus on is the bolded name in the headline. It’s Jamie’s name.

You’re sure it’s about some girl he’s with, because what else would be in a tabloid? You roll your eyes and scoff. Typical. Leave it to him to bounce back. You suppose long-term relationships mean nothing to him.

After that, you stay in your flat. You only leave during times you know are impossible to bump into him. 

Things start to get better. If Jamie’s moved on, so can you. You begin going on runs again. You stop by Mae’s now and again to chat with the regulars. She slips you free chips with a wink and a pat on the hand.

You still think about Jamie. He’s on your mind and you wonder if you’re on his. You remember the tabloid and shake your head.

You’re one semester away from graduating, and your research has started to mean something. You google your name once and see your name in a singular footnote in a research paper you helped write. It’s the first result. You smile. 

—

You are so close to having your first Jamie-free day. He hasn’t been the first thing on your mind for two days. You don’t have that feeling of falling, or of guilt. It is a beautiful Thursday morning, so you get up, put on your jogging clothes, then head out the door for a run. It’s a little cloudy but you swear that’s the best weather to exercise in. Less sweaty. You are three months out from your breakup and you are beginning to feel joy again. You turn a corner, thinking about a nice coffee, when you ram straight into something warm and solid. You lose your balance, but strong arms reach out to catch you.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” you cry. “I should have looked where I was-”

Words escape you as you look up into the blue eyes of your rescuer. 

“Hi,” he breathes. “I’ve missed you.”

You’re trapped in his gaze for a minute before-

“Ow!”

You’ve stomped on Jamie’s foot. 

“What was that for?” he asks indignantly. 

“Oh I don’t know,” you reply, “maybe for being a complete asshole? It also could be for snogging whatever model you were with in that tabloid? Real stellar move, showing that much remorse. I’m glad it didn’t take long to get over me. Guess the phrase ‘long-term relationship’ means something different to footballers than it does to us little people.”

Jamie opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. 

“Look, you’re right, I’m a fuckin’ arsehole, but what are you talking about? What model?”

You’re a little thrown off by his admission to being an asshole. “What do you mean, ‘what am I talking about?’ I saw your name show up in some headline and you’re only ever in there for some girl, and I get it, it’s fine that you’ve moved on, it just feels really fucking quick.”

Jamie has the audacity to chuckle. “It weren’t about some model. It was about you.”

You go cold. This can’t be happening again. Jamie Tartt, spilling his guts in some sleazy interview, painting you in the worst light.

He sees the look of absolute horror on your face so he hurries on, “Look. You were right. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did. But I did, and I can’t take it back. So I’m doing me best to make it right. It were about a tv interview where they asked about you, and I said we’d broken up. Told them I was a complete prick about everything and I let you slip through my fingers.” For the first time, you take a good look at Jamie’s face. He looks truly awful. Hair floppy (and not in a good way), bloodshot eyes, dark circles. 

He continues, “I know I shouldn’t have been a prick about being famous. It’s just, I get in me fuckin’ head about shit like this. Did the same thing with Keeley. Got scared of something real and knew I’d fuck it up eventually, so I thought I might as well get it over with. And anyway, you’re way out of my league. Figured I might as well let you go before you figured it out. I’ve been- I’ve been getting better. Less dick-like. You can ask anyone, Roy, Coach, whoever. I’m really trying, here. And I know I fucked things between us, and you don’t have to forgive me, but I’m just trying to be better for me and whoever fucking has to put up with me next.” 

You have no words. All you can do is stare at him. You hear your mom’s voice saying, “He’s just a young man. He’ll figure himself out.”

You hear Keeley saying, “he’s grown so much, really, he almost isn’t even the same person anymore.”

You hear Rebecca, as you sat in her office right before Jamie asked you out, telling you, “He’s a shockingly fast learner. Only has to be told something once, and it’s in his head forever. Give him a chance.”

You open your mouth and what comes out is: “I’m sorry too.”

Jamie looks just as shocked that you said that as you are, but you keep going. “My mom talked to me a lot about- about deciding what you can forgive. And I guess, I know I wasn’t blameless. I pushed you away on purpose, and I was aware of every single word that I said that hurt you. She also talked about ‘age-appropriate mistakes.’ She said both you and I made them, and that doesn’t mean I should take you back but that I should at least consider forgiveness. It’s easy to forget that we’re really young, you know? We both have a lot of responsibility, and I forget that it’s ok if we make mistakes. And you being you, your mistakes are more public. I- I needed to figure out if I could deal with it or not. I’m still not sure if I can. I don’t want my life to be on display.”

Jamie nods, expression intent. You take a breath and then continue. “But I guess that I need to figure out which I want more. Privacy, or you. I mean, if that’s even something you want.”

Jamie’s eyes have never left your face. He says, “Always knew I liked your mum,” and then he’s pushing a strand of hair our of your eyes, hesitantly, giving you time to pull away.  

You don’t.

You let him run his fingers through your hair.

You let him kiss you, softly.

You let him back into your life.

I missed you, he had said.

You pull back, smiling. “By the way, I missed you too.”

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - First Meeting 2/4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 and end

Part 2, sequel of this. This Hero and Villain have now their own tag and masterlist.

*

Hero woke up and they didn’t like that very much.

The ground was hard under their head, and they winced. Their fingers unwillingly clenched and grasped some gravel.

Wait a minute. That meant they weren’t in a room. Not theirs, anyways. Come to think of it, where were they and what happened ? Their head hurt. They touched their forehead gently. There was no blood, and it looked like it was in its usual shape. Still, it hurt.

Maybe the next step was standing up, come to think of it. So they did. Stretching up, they clasped their tongue, trying to focus. It had been a while since they had felt this sluggish. They were in a little street. Okay. That was an important piece of information. So, they were going back from their last job (stopping a robbery, nothing serious) when – when – they forgot.

How could have they forgotten ?

They stayed still. Apart from them, there was no one in the street. Everything was quiet. And, possibly, very wrong. Something was missing. Hero was quite sure that it wasn’t a street before, but a dead end. What was blocking the way before was a two-storeyed building, full of people. Now it was... gone. It hadn’t been demolished or anything. There weren’t ruins or even rubble around. There just wasn’t a trace of it, as if it never existed. It was the right street though, and if they struggled very hard to remember, they were inside just before. There were just fragments of memories. A thief sulking in a corner, their hands tied up behind their back. A smile from an old lady. A warm cup of tea into their hands and the odor of the mint.

The next minutes were used to frantically search for the people who lived there, anyone. After a lot of swearing and some tears, they had to renounce. They sat on the ground, vaguely entertaining the idea of curling up and never getting up ever, when their phone rang.

“Are you okay ?” asked Other Hero. “There was an attack from Supervillain in your area.”

“Yes. Just where I was, in fact.”

“Oh shit ! How did you survive ?”

“I think my powers protected me. But a whole building is gone and I – I don’t understand what happened.”

“ It’s your first time with this guy, uh ? You’d better sit down, buddy, I’m gonna break it to you.”

Other Hero had that tone she always had when they passed their regular tests, just before obtaining the highest grades. Hero listened.

“His power is very simple, actually,” she declared. As you saw – or rather as you didn’t see - he can make things disappear. He only has to look at the zone, and everything is gone.”

“A whole building ? What about the people ?”

“I’m sorry, have I stuttered ? Gone.”

A drop of sweat slowly trickled down Hero’s forehead.

“I don’t see how I could fight that”, they finally said. Is there a way ? Has he got a weakness ?”

“Oh, you can’t. With your powers, that is. It’s best if you don’t try. At least you’re protected, but you haven’t got what it takes to bring him down.”

“You do.”

“Of course, but I’ve got my area to protect, you know. Tell you what though, I’ll call the agency and ask them if they can send you backup.”

“Thanks, but -”

They didn’t have the time to finish their sentence. Other Hero had hung up. Having backup was good, but with this kind of threat it couldn’t hurt to have a plan B.

The warehouse they had visited a couple of weeks ago was not far, and still standing. With a bit of luck, it was still Villain’s lair. Hero hadn’t come back since. It wasn’t as if this villain seemed like a serious threat anyway. Even the place itself wasn’t that threatening, past the first impression. So they opened the door without much thought, and because they were still dizzy, they walked on a button without noticing. They only had time to gasp and protect their head with their arms when a huge cage just fell right on them.

There was a series of clicks, and when they opened their eyes again, they were surrounded by heavy metal bars. Spotlights illuminated their trap one by one while a booming laugh resonated in the room:

“You’re mine now ! Miiiiine !”

A dark shape appeared at the end of the corridor. The spotlights were strong, but they couldn’t lighten it up. Light seemed to avoid the black silhouette.

“I knew you’ve come back to taunt me, nemesis, but that was your downfall ! See what I could do in your absence ! Tell me, prisoner, am I harmless now ?”

Hero didn’t answer. They were still staring at the darkness. Villain had to clear their throat to get their attention.

“I said ! Am ! I ! Harmless ?”

“Uh ? Oh, uh, yes. I mean, no – I mean – what was the question again ?”

A grunt of frustration came out of the silhouette:

“You are into my claws ! How can you not pay attention to every one of my words ? I am the master of your life – nay, the master of your very fate ! Be awed !”

“I kinda am.”

The shape stopped its walk:

“You – you are ?”

“Yes. Do you control shadows ?”

“Only mine, but as it is the best, I do not care what others could offer me.”

“ And yet you could darken this whole warehouse”, whispered Hero. “And all the buildings you go to. I suppose you can make it as big as you wish. That’s impressive.”

“Extremely. I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses. Imprisonment quickly taught you some manners.”

“Actually, I didn’t come to fight you. I came for two things. A warning, first.”

“Ah, it is to laugh ! They’re nothing but a pitiful prisoner, a mere prey at my mercy, but still they try to rebel ! Such audacity.”

“Supervillain is here.”

“You have to be more precise.”

“The one who can make everything disappear.”

“...shit. I mean, curses !”

“And he’s here to stay if I don’t do anything to stop him.”

“So you want to beg for your freedom ? What if all of that was an outrageous lie to deceive me as a way to mock me once more? ”

“That’s the thing, Villain. Even if I were free, I couldn’t defeat him. I’m not powerful enough. That’s the second thing I wanted to tell you. I need your help.”

“ Excuse me ?”

“Supervillain needs to see to use his power. But if the whole area is in your shadow, he’ll be helpless.”

“A poor plan, if I might say so. I only need to cover his eyes to blind him.”

“If you succeed to find him first, that is.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem. If memory serves, he had an awfully tacky magenta suit, even flashier than your orange jacket. But wait ! Why should I listen to you ? Why should I expose myself to the cruel outside and the crueler sun ?”

“Your warehouse might be on his way. And that’s the kind of act that can grant you a pardon from the agency.”

The silhouette recoiled:

“I neither need nor want a pardon. I am a devious malevolent being of pure darkness and I intend to stay that way.”

Hero wiped his forehead. They were getting tired.

“Okay, fine. We’re running out of time. What do you want ?”

“For starters, I want you to kneel.”

Hero tilted their head, confused:

“Why ?”

“You know. To acknowledge my superiority and your defeat, all of that good stuff.”

“Oh. Okay, if you want.”

Hero politely obeyed while the laugh resonated once more:

“Yes...yes ! Muahaha I am the unflinching and unbowed victor of our perilous fight !”

“Uh-uh, sure. If there something else ? I think that we’re running out of time here.”

“Pledge your allegiance to me.”

“What ? But I’m a hero. I can’t.”

“Then I won’t help.”

Hero actually felt a twinge of remorse. That was a promise they were going to break, but then again, it was going to be made under duress.

“What would you make me do ?”

A moment of silence ensued.

“I don’t actually know”, admitted Villain. “It would be my first time someone would submit to me, I don’t go outside much. The very thought of another soul touching my tools and my creations makes even my dark soul shudder.”

“I could go shopping for you. This way you won’t have to scare citizens.”

“Using your own money to trade for the goods I decide you to get to sustain my mortal body ?” asked the voice which was suddenly a lot more cheerful.

“You really don’t like to go outside, uh ?”

“Hush, prisoner. It is decided, then. I shall fight this obnoxious magenta menace who…!”

Despite the heavy doors, a piercing scream from outside made them both start. Hero jumped on their feet.

“...And the sooner, the better.”

*

Sequel here

Back to These Two Dorks masterlist.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Summary: As our girls are roadtripping back home during a break Dani decides to take Sammi on a little hike to a lookout. Written for the ever so talented @ofthecaravel

Pairings: Sammi Kiszka X Dani Wagner **girl van fleet!! 💕

Warnings: a little smooching, some swearing, that’s about it!

Word count: 1.7k

“Who’s your hall pass?” Sammi questioned as she and Dani made their way up the steep hillside trail covered in rocks and leaves crushed into tiny pieces from the hundreds of feet that had come stepping here before them.

“Dunno” Dani responded, focused more on finding this turn off from the trail to the look out so that they could check it out and get back to the car before the others came looking for them rather than answering her friends silly questions.

“Come on” Sammi pushed, kicking a rock over in Dani’s direction with her flip flop. “You can’t tell me there aren’t any girls you find attractive”.

You… Dani quickly thought to herself. Of course she found Sammi attractive, a lot of people did boys and girls alike, but instead of admitting it Dani just blurted out “fine, Sabrina Carpenter”.

”S-Sabrina who?!” Sammi scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest in a pout. She was supposed to say me.

“She’s a… nevermind” Dani abandoned her explanation when she looked back and saw the annoyed look on Sammi’s face. “Hey, I think this is it!” Just a foot away from them was a rotted sign barely standing on two wooden posts next to an overgrown pathway further into the brush that surrounded them.

“Guess this isn’t a very popular place” Dani commented as she pushed some low hanging branches out of the way to try and get a better look.

“Either that or someone was murdered down there and no one wants to go anymore” Sammi added, debating on giving up and going back. She wasn’t even really interested in the look out anyways, she was just tired of sitting in the cramped up backseat of the car, and wanted to walk with her friend for a while. It's not like she was really dressed for a hike through the woods on the side of the highway in her tiny shorts and tank top. She didn’t even have a bra on, not that she ever really wore one, and her under boobs were starting to get sticky with sweat.

“Why do you have to make everything so morbid? Come on, it shouldn’t be much further”.

Sammi rolled her eyes but followed Dani into the creepy opening in the trees. Hopefully if anyone did jump out of the bushes and try to attack Dani would protect them both.

After just a couple more minutes of walking, the trail did finally break way to a small stony clearing, a ledge that dropped off into a valley below. “Careful where you step”. Dani reached out and offered her hand, guiding Sammi closer to the edge safely so she could get a better look, her boots a much better footwear choice to find stable ground to stand on. “I can’t believe there’s not a guard rail or anything. No wonder this place is practically closed off”.

“So someone did die here” Sammi squawked, clinging onto Dani as she peered over and down the nearly thirty foot drop to the bottom. “I told you”.

“Oh right, I forgot Sammi knows everything” Dani sighed, taking a step back so they were at a more comfortable distance.

“I do not” Sammi argued, furrowing her perfectly manicured brows.

Dani wasn’t sure why she was bringing this up now, it didn’t make sense to start something right before getting back into a car with someone for the rest of a nearly nine hour road trip up the Midwest. Or better yet when standing near the edge of a cliff, but she spoke what was on her mind anyways. “Sometimes you kind of act like you do”.

Sammi’s shoulders dropped, her heart sinking in her chest a little at the thought of her best friend being upset with her. Am I annoying? Is that why she doesn’t like me like that? The twins always said she was annoying, but that’s because she was the youngest sibling and it was her birthright to bother the shit out of her older sisters. Dani though… that was another story.

“Is that a problem?” She meekly questioned, ashamed to even have to ask.

“No! It’s not!” Dani tried to quickly take it back, already feeling like a total bitch for having said something. It wasn’t even that big of a deal but somehow she had managed to make herself look bad and hurt her friends feelings at the same time. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything, okay?”

Dani reached forward and wrapped her arms around Sammi’s shoulders, their skin sticky with the late August humidity practically making them glue together.

“I really don’t, you know?” Sammi spoke up, fighting the urge to nuzzle her face into Dani’s chest. “I don’t know everything” she continued when Dani looked down at her in question, “I don’t even know the most important thing”.

“What’s that?” Dani moved to tuck a strand of Sammi’s hair that had blown with the slight breeze from the valley and tuck it behind her ear.

“I don’t know how you really feel about me”.

There it was. Out in the open finally after years of being together, forming a band together and touring the world, but never quite actually being together the way Sammi wanted to. Maybe now she could change things?

“How I really feel about you? Is that even a question?” Dani giggled, her hands sliding down the back of Sammi’s tank top to come to rest at her hips instead.

Sammi pouted her lips, this wasn’t a laughing matter to her. “Yes. It is. I need to know if you like me or not”.

“Does this answer your question?” Dani placed a finger under her chin, tilting it slightly upwards as she leaned down and connected their lips. Sammi tasted like lipgloss and the sour skittles she wouldn’t share after the last rest stop they visited, but Dani didn’t mind anymore because now she was getting a little taste of her very own.

Excitement brimmed from Sammi’s eyes when Dani pulled away, “So you do like me?”

“I always did, silly” Danni smiled, her own cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of rose.

Sammi smiled coyly back, “And you think I’m pretty?”

“Of course I do! Who doesn’t think you’re pretty? I’d like to have a few words with them”.

“Prettier than Selena Carper?”

“Sabrina Carpenter?” Dani snorted, “yes, you’re prettier than her too”.

“Well you could’ve said something sooner, would have saved us this hike up here”.

“I was going to say something sooner” Dani revealed, “I was going to say something a month ago, and then last week, and then this morning before we started this trip, but I could never bring myself to gather the courage. So when I saw there was a look out up here I knew I needed to bring you and get over my fears”.

Sammi wrapped her hands around Dani’s neck and pulled herself up into another quick but heartfelt kiss. “Well I’m glad you beat your fears, but I’m still scared of heights. Let’s get out of here”.

Dani held Sammi’s hand firmly in her grip as they made their way back through the brush, trying not to get tangled or hitched on any of the branches they passed. Usually going downhill would be a lot easier, but in this case Sammi found it difficult to keep up.

“How far from the car are we? If it’s much further then I think you might have to carr-” Sammi was suddenly cut off when one of her flip flops broke, the toe post tearing from the sole and sending Sammi down to the dirt.

“Are you alright!” Dani quickly bent down to help pick her up, seeing first the gash torn through her knee and then the sad mangled sandal realizing it was the cause of the fall.

“Yeah I’m fine” Sammi replied, standing up and leaning on a tree so she could inspect the damage. “It’s totally broken, what am I gonna do?”

“Here let me see, I might be able to fix it for now”. Dani reached up and pulled her hair loose from the pony tail she’d had it in, then took the sandal and held it between her knees. She pushed the toe post back through the hole and wrapped the black elastic around it a few times before handing it back.

Sammi tried it on, definitely wouldn’t be a permanent solution but it would have to do for now. “Thanks, though I was looking forward to you actually having to carry me back”.

“You wish” Dani teased, “that’s what you get for wearing those fuckass flip flops all the time”.

“Hey! These are my favorite flops! You bought them for me…”

Dani gave them a double take, then she remembered. It was when they were in Mexico, Sammi wanted to go down to the beach but all she had packed for the trip was a pair of boots. Dani stopped at a gift shop and bought the only pair that was in her size and she’d been wearing them ever since.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to buy you a new pair then. What else are girlfriends for?”

Sammi’s eyes widened at the word, girlfriends, it felt good to finally be able to call her that, and even better to be able to take her hand again as they finished the rest of the hike.

“Hey! Did you two find the lookout?” Joselyn hollered when they finally re-emerged..

As soon as Joselyn and Janie got one good look at them though, Sammi with her scuffed up knees and Dani with her hair now a curly frizzy mess, they knew something was up.

“What did you guys fuck in the trees or somethin’”? Janie yelled next, making the younger two's faces burn bright red.

“No! I fell!” Sammi exclaimed, taking off her broken flip flop and launching it in her sister's direction.

“Right, and Dani was there to pick you up!” She continued, running around to the drivers side and jumping in before Sammi could reach her.

“Come on ladies!” Joselyn asserted her dominance as the eldest to get them to calm down. “We’ve wasted enough time already, time to hit the road!”

There were a few grumbles as they all climbed back into the car headed home, but silence ultimately fell when the car started back up and the tires scraped against the gravel to pull back onto the highway.

“So,” Joselyn began once they were a few minutes out, “are you two sharing lipgloss now or did Dani finally make her move?”

[dunedragon]

The part of me that wants those boys happy fears the what if concept and understands your response. The part of me that loves angst is like OH BOY I LOVE PAIN.

Anyway... netcafe?? ooooooooh

I love all kinds of horror and dread and angst, I eat it up! But I realized this one went a bit too hard for the type of fandom this is so it's just sat unfinished in my drafts.

The netcafe one is plotted now and hopefully I can drum up the motivation to write it, esp since I really want to explore a Netto POV chapter for RUTH :D I think it would be fun to write once I get over the hurdle of starting.

However, here have the incomplete and completely unedited chapter "What Could Have Been" under the cut:

“Saito? Iggy? Hello? Anyone there?” Saito groaned, fingers digging into the grass and dirt beneath him as he woke. The air was thick with the smell of pine and dirt, and he slowly sat up as the wind rushed through his hair. Wind. Dirt. Trees. He looked at his hands. Flesh and bone. His clothes were damp as the morning sun filtered through the trees. He pressed his fingers to his face as his heart slowly descended with horror. The chip flip… “Saito? Is that you?” His PET sat in the grass beside him. He snatched it up, and was greeted to the soft smile of his brother. “You did it.” He said, tears welling in his eyes. “It’s your turn now. Go have fun, okay? For me? I’ll support you from h-here.” Saito’s vision blurred. “N-no this isn’t— I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Netto— Mega, burst into tears and Saito clutched the PET to his chest. Hidden in the secluded embrace of the morning fog, they cried.

————

“Saito! Wake up, you’re going to be late!” Saito woke with a jolt, pieces of paper falling from his face as he looked around. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again in the cramped dorm room of his university. He looked down at the fallen sheets of his assignment as they mixed in with the diagrams of his personal projects. Outside the window, the morning sun filtered through the fog and trees, just like it had that day on Torishima 6 years ago. Saito leaned back in his chair and let out a yawn as he stretched. “Mngh, What time is it?” “8:20.” Mega replied. “Class starts in ten minutes.” Shit. He leapt from his chair and gathered the scattered pieces of his project and shoved them into his backpack. “Oh jeez, oh jeez!” “I woulda woken you earlier,” Mega (said), “but you were up till 3 in the morning working on your assignment, I thought you’d like the extra 30 minutes to sleep in!” “Extra—?! Mega it takes me ten minutes just to walk across campus!” “Walk quickly.” Saito let out a groan, making sure Mega could hear his disapproval as he threw on a fresh shirt from the closet. Good enough. He snatched the PET off his desk and rushed out the door.

——

Two hours later, Saito’s stomach clawed for attention. He had forgotten to grab something to eat on his way out. As class was released, he dropped his Petbook into his backpack and weighed his options. “Hm… do you think I should go to The Lounge or head back to the dorm?” He asked out loud. “Probably your dorm.” Mega replied. “You forgot to take your medication and left one of the pages of your assignment on your desk. Though if you’re hoping to finish off that sandwich, I’m pretty sure Kodek ate it.” Saito balked. “What!? I told him to stop eating my food! Did you tell him I was saving that?” Mega shrugged. “Would it matter? He hates me.” Saito let out a long groan and drop his head onto his desk. “Hey, Dad offered to help you get your own apartment nearby, but nooo!” Mega drawled. “You wanted to “live life to the fullest” and get the “college experience!" It’s okay to take shortcuts, you know!” “I didn’t think it would involve… that.” Saito mumbled. “You mean the worst roommate ever?” Mega scoffed. Saito raised his head off the desk with an awkward shrug. “I wouldn’t say that… he’s just…” “—Terrible.” “Mega!” “What? You aren’t going to say it, so I will!” “We’ve talked about this!” Saito pleaded. “Please, just try to get along with him!” “Never.” With the class slowly filtering out the doors, their conversation was becoming more audible by the second. Saito dropped it, grabbing his backpack off the floor, and made his way to the exit. Once outside into the open air, he yawned once again. His sleep addled brain couldn’t hold a cohesive thought together, and he found himself once again missing the old hum of data and rigid routines. “Let’s head back and I’ll order you a pizza," Mega chirped once clear of the crowd. "Once you’ve eaten and grabbed your papers you need to head back to administration to sign off on next year’s Net Navi registration. After that, you should have enough time to —Oh, take a left up here.” Saito took the abrupt turn between two buildings. “That’s not the way to the dorms.” “I know, I decided we’re going to The Lounge for food instead.” Saito yawned. “Mm, okay.” “Netto! Wait!” Saito turned around to find a shorter girl with a blonde ponytail racing down the alley toward him. “Who is that?” Mega whispered. “Midee Nakamura, from my mechanical engineering class?” He whispered back. “The one you’re always playing games in?” “What can I say, it’s my free period.” Mega retorted. They both fell into silence as Midee caught up and paused to catch her breath. “Phew! Sorry, I’ve been trying to track you down all day.” “Me? Why?” Saito asked.

[curiositymemes]

MISTER MAGIC SENTENCE STARTERS : PART TWO.

taken from the 2023 novel by kiersten white. trigger warnings for unreality, trauma, religion, and cults. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“what do we say about crying?”

“you had a lot of nightmares.”

“at least i don’t snore?”

“i wouldn’t mess with her / him / them.”

“that was really kind. thank you.”

“it’s just what i was supposed to do all along.”

“why do you have it?”

“don’t you remember— no, i guess you don’t.”

“please take this as kindly as possible, but what the hell does that mean?”

“i forgot what a dork you can be.”

“only you could make me do this. you’re as pushy as ever.”

“is this what prom was like?”

“i hate missing free food.”

“we just have to wait a little longer. you’ll see.”

“we could go be beautiful somewhere else, instead.”

“or your ass is mine.”

“what is she / is he / are they doing here? i can’t deal with her / him / them, not right now. not ever.” 

“you know how important tonight is to me.” 

“i’ve worked a long time for this.”

“take me with you. i can’t do this alone.”

“wasn’t it the best?”

“i’ve lived here my whole life.”

“angels were everywhere, if you knew how to recognize them. if you knew how to make a deal.”

“suffer the children, you know.”

“not everything needs a reboot.”

“go home and cry joylessly into your still-in-the-box transformers.” 

“someone’s got to compensate for my terrible influence in his life / her life / your life / their lives.”

“lol delaware isn’t a real place.”

“what is all this talk of killing and death?”

“you’re here now, and you’re going to fix it. you’re going to make it right. you owe us that much, don’t you?”

“i don’t like to think about what happened; the pieces don’t make sense.”

“guess i was wrong about not needing to sneak in our own booze. luckily, i’m always prepared.”

“please don’t tease me.” / “i would never.” 

“everyone will stare.” / “they’re all staring anyway.”

“you! you broke everything!”

“what was that?”

“we won’t let them / him / her do this to you.”

“whatever else she is / he is / they are, name’s a loyal friend.”

“you need this. don’t let them know you have it.”

“you deserve— you all deserve to know.”

“can we get out of here?”

“come on. we’re going to make a bonfire.”

“i woke up in the middle of the night and it was glowing.”

“how do you know how to do this?”

“i can build a fire, administer basic first aid, and bullshit my way into making older people think i’m trustworthy.”

“he / she / they / you didn’t protect me from that.” 

“i’ve never not been a mom / dad / parent.”

“that’s the only time i ever got to be a kid.”

“don’t be a little shit.”

“you never forget the lesson that they would rather destroy you than let you inconvenience them.”

“it’s hard, and you’re doing it anyway.”

“fucktrumpet! shitgibbon! cockwomble!”

“be serious for once!”

“i need to know what happened to her / him / them / you / us.”

“anyone who was looking for you, anyone who took the trouble to find you: they’re not your friend.”

“you have to get out of there. now.”

“you can’t get better until you’ve hit rock bottom. you know that.”

“what if forgetting is a gift?” 

“i wish i could forget it.” 

“we missed you, name.”

“you didn’t give up, even when it got hard and a little scary. sometimes things are a little hard and scary. that’s when we need each other the most.”

“i am losing my mind.”

“i missed you the most.”

“i want it back.”

“i can’t force you to do it. but i need you to do this for me. for us.” 

“weird vibe in here, you guys.”

“please, come with me. nothing here is good for you.”

“i know that sounds sad but it wasn’t.”

“don’t look at me like i’m the one who’s being a bitch.” 

“what the hell? how is that possible?”

“tell me whether i saw what i think i saw.”

“how long have you been down here?”

“we don’t say that.” / “why not? they’re just words.”

“so really, all words are magic. something from nothing.”

“you were always good at words, weren’t you? good at making the others do what you wanted.”

“i’m tired of talking.”

“nothing is more powerful than imagination.”

“we all chose what to remember. or what to forget.”

“maybe it’s a deepfake.”

“fuck me. fuck me, fuck me. fuck all of us.”

“i’m sorry. i’m really, really sorry. i didn’t know.”

“i’ll see what they want.”

“name. fuckface. fuckface junior.”

“dunno what i did, dunno how to fix it, don’t really care.” 

“i’m going with you. we do this together.”

“you all realize this is insane, right? this is how we die.”

“at least i’ll go out doing what i love: being an absolute fuckwit making the worst possible choice.” / “no. being an absolute fuckwit making the worst possible choice in the best possible company.”

“is that how it was always supposed to feel?”

“i’m ready to break things.”

“i never would have left you.”

“i won’t let anything happen to you.”

“give me my fucking friends back.”

“tell me how to get you out of here. tell me how to fix it.”

“i believe in you. you protected us all back then, when we didn’t even know you were doing it. let us help you now.”

“we have to buy her / him / them / you time.”

“we should do what we do best.”

“it’s all still here.”

“let’s summon a demon!”

“this is so trippy! and stupid. i think it’s mold.”

“it’s not better in here, name. i know it feels like it could be, but it’s not. it never was.”

“you haven’t forgotten who you were, but you’re even better at it.”

“name is fucking with people who don’t have his / her / their best interests at heart.”

“that’s gotta be driving them insane to watch.”

“i’m nothing without it. i’ve never been anything without it.”

“you’ve always been enough by yourself. no one has ever been as loyal and smart and funny and fierce and deeply, deeply annoying as you.”

“i want to be a person. whole. happy with just myself. but how do we do that?” / “therapy.”

“in today’s session, i’d like to revisit the period of your childhood that was controlled by a minor deity in a pocket universe.”

“you’re all so stupid.”

“i love you, and i’m so proud of you.”

“you came back for us after all, name. i always knew you would.” / “really?” / “no. but i love being wrong. i’m really good at it.”

“he’s / she’s / they’re gone. you’ve always been good enough. you can do this alone.”

“i would have loved you so well.”

“you stayed.” / “i stayed.”

“go on. i believe in you.”

“you know what that’s like, if you let yourself remember.” 

“it’s not perfect, but it doesn’t need to be.”

[taysanimaladventures]

Just gonna. Bitch a bit lol. I'm sorry I don't have anything positive to share on here anymore. But I think prospective keepers need to know the shit that happens in this field.

Trigger warnings for animal neglect and death.

I was let go from a job. When I was working part time at my local zoo they underpaid me severely. I needed to take part time because my grandma was dying. I lived with my husband but the pay was so bad and hours were limited to 16 a week so I was forced to get a second job.

I quit the zoo last year which is a whole story in itself, but we are keeping it simple here. I think once I am a but cozy I will share that story and all the other stories at some point. Anyways I stuck with this second job for the past year while processing my grandmother's illness and eventual death to at least earn some income. However after my grandma passed I decided for certain I wanted to leave the industry. I learned the hard way that changing careers is not easy so I was sticking with them only for cash during this frustrating job search.

This second job was taking care of ambassador animals for an educational program. Nothing fancy, just a collection of small mammals, reptiles, amphibians, inverts, and an owl. My boss acted like she worshipped the ground I walked on because I busted my ass trying to help them rebuild their animal collection after their old one was lost to a wildfire.

I did a lot for them. A lot. I found reliable breeders to purchase from, set up the entire animal care work room, wrote care sheets for every single animal, created schedules, deep cleaned, did research and gave advice, and more. All of this while juggling a nasty sleep issue, depression and anxiety from my grandma's situation, and mental health issues up the wazoo from changing around medication.

Now while I bust my balls for my animals, over the years and years of exposure to terrible situations I have not been the most..... palatable person. I had a breakdown when my boss brought in a new bearded dragon and made little effort to quarantine it. I was irritated after the 4th time I come back from the weekend to empty water dishes and dirtier-than-normal cages. I got huffy with the people who take animals for making stupid mistakes, such as leaving a lamp on the edge of a snake enclosure causing it to melt. I had repeatedly requested my boss re-train staff so mistakes were minimal. She always said she would but I never saw a change. She even admitted to me she noticed staff were in deep conversation while handling animals which is probably why the mistakes were happening. And she wonders why I got pissed off at them??

My patience eventually ran dry after like 4 months of this shit and my boss -appeared- to be understanding that I have extensive trauma and I act the way I do because of it. It's not like I ever called anyone a mean name or bullied them, like I was the victim of way too many times when I first started out. I was outwardly unhappy, did not want to converse with anyone, and had a tone and was short sometimes. People still walked on eggshells around me. And you know what? I didn't give a shit and I still don't. I was a lone wolf in my duties and I wasn't required to converse with anyone except my boss. Plus no one here matters except for the animals. When you are careless with my animals, I am going to be pissed off.

But apparently my (now former) boss showed what really matters to her. She gave the keeper who forgot to refill water bowls a million chances to do better and never let her go. That keeper was the reason I even wrote those care sheets. But me? I'm grumpy and I challenge the status quo. Got to go. After blowing smoke up my ass for two years, saying I'm amazing and valuable and I can share anything with her and giving me a stupid piece of tape with stars on it for handling a sick animal.

I snapped from the stress.You should take a break. Ok, I'll take a fucking break! And then, a few days after my grandma's funeral which she knew about, I get an email: Oh so you can't come back this isn't working out anymore.

Sorry, what?

So I am here to shame the other shit this job did. Of course I spoke up, but it did not change anything.

-Two male rats kept in this cage. They were separated because they were fighting. They now live in two of these cages. I asked for a bigger cage. Blown off. I asked if the DIY guy could fuse the cages. "There's no point if we are getting a bigger cage." A year later, still the same cages. Btw they have diarrhea often.

-Rescued bearded dragon was brought in underweight. Boss said feed her insects every day (she was at least a year old, young but not a baby). Beardie starts getting chunkier and chunkier. I say hey we need to cut back in the notes. Ignored for a few weeks. She is morbidly obese. Only then the boss says cut back. She is also dead now and I only know this since I checked records while on "break." Wanna bet that was the morbid obesity?

-Another bearded dragon not feeling well. Eyes closed, black bearding. I'm hollering for him to be seen. "Oh it may just be because it's cooling down." Eventually sees the vet, the fucking quack says he's trying to brumate. I've never owned beardies but I called bs. Nothing was done except blasting more heat on him. Nothing changes. A week later, he vomits blood and dies. It was kidney failure.

-Leopard gecko not eating and slowly losing weight. In the notes several times over the course of a few months, "he is not eating and losing weight." I guess it was my bad for putting it in the notes I assumed were getting read instead of verbally telling my boss. Got ignored until I verbally told her. Gecko needed to be put down.

-Rabbit taken to programs way too often. He comes back and looks worn the fuck out. I bring this concern up to boss. "Yeah, we need to get a third rabbit." But otherwise nothing changes.

-Accepts a hermann's tortoise in a glass enclosure that nonstop runs into the glass, promises a tortoise table but here we are again a year later.

-Says yes to a frilled lizard from the quack of a vet as an apology for what happened with the beardie. Takes the vets word that his enclosure (a horizontal, not vertical enclosure with newspaper only and a red lamp and heat pad) is correct and it's "just like caring for a bearded dragon." The poor thing stops eating and the skin of her frills is dead from being unable to shed. Their solution is force feeding her. Fed up with leadership, I research the species and learned that everything we did was wrong. I set up proper lighting and substrate for her (can't do much about a vertical enclosure). She bounces back.

-"This animal doesn't look good, it shouldn't be taken to programs." "Okay" -2 days later they are back at programs- "Sorry we needed it."

I get that I was not necessarily a great person in this story, but I truly feel justified because this was such bullshit to deal with and now I am truly free of this hellish industry. I am unemployed and it's uncomfortable but it's better than dealing with this bullshit.

To my husband, friends, and family helping me get through this: thank you.

To Stephanie: fuck you.

[royallygray]

incoherent as shit rant below, proceed with caution:

in the past 30 minutes I've become really fucking unhinged and like I'm releasing the darkness inside slightly more because I'm making statistically more jokes about techno dying which was and is a very traumatic thing for me and its definitely something when you literally do not properly express to other people that you are grieving so hard that your soul desperately hurts because you have one (1) person who is nearly as obsessed with dsmp as you were and you weren't close to them and it'd be weird to absolutely sob together because oh my god like

y'all this was supposed to be a post explaining why I should eat because I'm having more unhinged thoughts but genuinely we should also at some point address how Techno's death absolutely destroyed people

like

There are so many layers to it. Firstly, it's a content creator that you don't know in real life, so there's the weird parasocial thing going on there that isn't *that* socially acceptable but whatever.

Secondly, it was 2022 and we were like. *just* getting out of Covid restrictions

Thirdly, it was during the summer, where I had little to no contact with friends because I just fucking forgot they existed

and like I had friends that USED to be into dsmp but like. no one that had fallen so fucking hard. I feel so fucking hard. and the only one that had fallen half as hard as me I wasn't close with.

Also recently they've told me that they go by they/them which is the least surprising thing ever

honest to God it was surprising when they told me that their pronouns were she/her

Anyways.

holy shit okay I can't think anymore genuinely

this is

I don't expect anyone to see this other than Mysterious and Peri and honestly yeah

Um

like I have more to say about the god awful effects of Techno's death on me especially as someone who was a minor when it happened like ong it's so bad

just holy shit

but my brain gets more ADHD the more I like try to focus

it's like those movies or something where you try to focus on something but it turns into a bunch of puzzle pieces and then those puzzle pieces aren't actually a part of the puzzle but instead an association that are actually a whole NEW puzzle and you can attaxj that puzzle

I should delete this post

it's okay

is it

is it really

I'm fucking crazy holy hell I need food

okay. so

mission: get off bed

I had the thought this morning of doing a grwm but like on Tumblr through text right

and it was just "pants. where the fuck are pants. where the fucking hell are pants. ooh new pants. there's a tag. where the fuck is scissors. where are scissors. where are scissors" bro I spent about five minutes that I did Not have looking for those scissors

and then I was like "where bra. where the fuck is my bra- no not that one I want the other one because it's BETTER"

id be such a good grwm artist person

like

what do you mean you wouldn't watch that

I should be a comedian

Jesus christ

I actually sound high

not like I've ever--

actually I have

I have been around someone who was high

Jesus christ

also I'm gay as shit

I'm a chicken

bawk bawk

anyways I had to fucking tell this person that "no, edibles are not just gummies, they're literally cannabis. they're literally hard drugs"

in her defense she was getting over a bad breakup but eh like Jesus how did you

girly do your research

like I didn't know that edibles were made of cannabis but I knew they were literal drugs

anyways good on her for stopping when I told her

she was literally terrifying I was terrified for her she was not ducking okay like oh my god

anyways I gotta like. stop. doing whatever this is

so I'm gonna end this post

hi to anyone who made it to the end of this

say chicken waffles in the commentsif you made it this far

[localgardenweed]

Ok I was originally gonna write how I wanna go back to Eddsworld and do stuff for it again but felt out of the loop with the modern fandom and shit but ended up being a rant about how I hate Beyond so like gonna write this again but keeping part of the rant cause i need to share how much i cant stand Beyond again

So like I wanna come back to Eddsworld cause as much as it was a dumpster fire for me it was my first real fandom I was apart of online so it holds a place in my heart. I mean probably technically whatever I did on Framecast was my first ever online fandom space but shhhh that dont count i was but a wondering traveler looking for my place in the world. It actually got me into Eddsworld someone made a animation to Youth by Daughter and had me hooked. But still was very important to me and my art development.

Its so crazy to me cause i was into Eddsworld HARD in the 2016-2020 era where alot of the ig modern fandom was born i watched cities fall and crumble I was deep in the amino trenches, Pork Sodaing and seeing so much historical fandom events happen before your eyes. I was watching everyone consume every piece of Prince of Mints and Moho art I was a sucker for them which probably wasn’t okay for like a 5th grader but i definitely turned out all right /j.

I left for a little bit on and off cause Hetalia was choking me and like keeping me prisoner but like it still had a place in my heart for it but like ya know i still was there but idk now I just dont find the same spark anymore from the first go around. Something changed and maybe cause i just had my tastes change and maybe cause my ex-best friend was making fun of my oc all the time but i made him when i was like 11 and figuring out identities and ways to express yourself without sticking to the gender norms and dealing with alot of stuff at the time i finally caved and just didn’t feel the same any anymore about the show.

Cause I loved that fandom more than anything but, I don’t know I just don’t know how to get back that spark and go frolic in the fields with my TomTordOc love triangle of my 5th grader dreams and just be cringe and free and feel joy again but I just cant enjoy the material anymore like THEY ARE MASSACRING MY BOYS WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO THEMM

It doesn’t hit the same and i know i dont need to consume Beyond i doubt anyone actually does at this point but i cant stand beside while they murder everything i loved about the Classic and Legacy eras.

Also just, I think I hit a road block with it too like, I got stuck on where to do and what to do with Eddsworld like. I make aus i made ocs i made a ask blog i made animatics, now what? And like idk i felt weird and like stuck in the mud with them. Also just had the friend falling out who was also the co-creator of the ask blog so now i dont know how to pick it back up all by myself again but them again i really was just doing it by myself all the time anyway so i just have to figure out how to get back into the swing of things

I have some ideas for aus and maybe just finally be free and bring my oc back from the grave for realsies and make you all consume it but, I don’t know. Im scared to come back cause also weirdly alot of the new fans are younger than me or the older fans are older than me so its kinda awkward, also im just awkward im scared to talk to people online, there is and were some people i desperately wanted to be friends with both in and out of Eddsworld but im too scared and either just watch from afar or abuse the Anonymous function in ask boxes. 

If i cave enough i might come back to Eddsworld to at least finish my lore for the ask blog cause IM SORRY I LEFT YALL HANGING I HAD SCHOOL AND THEN JUST FORGOT ABOUT IT but forever haunted by the people who like every single post and then i get excited cause i see like 99+ notes waiting for me and i think one of my new posts blew up but no its just the ew boys who screw around likes and reblog and the occasional comment

One day ill return to my rightful birthplace and one day I shall be free and one with nature and draw as much as I want for it and as many ocs i want without someone telling me its cringe or make more for the ask blog or hell start doing animation and animatics again

Ok here is the Beyond rant now if you wanna read it

I feel the difference between Beyond and Legacy is that, Beyond is trying to horriblycopy their older brothers Classic and Legacy and almost dumb it down a bit with more childish humor, and Legacy takes inspiration from Classic: It’s different but a natural difference/evolution. Or the fact a whole new guy was writing it all with a slightly different style so he wrote what he knew idk maybe a bit of a factor idk

Also i cant stand the Tord bait sorry I cant, especially when they used to like get annoyed by the fandom by asking and then just realized he was a cash cow so like now we get Tord merch and the hints and Tori and the skit with the cavemen like OMG TORD- and he got crushed by a rock thanks gang, cause like dude I think as much as we love Tord like maybe this go around respect Larson’s choice to like not use him in the series anymore and take him out but like ig that doesn’t apply to merch so yeah lets do one more go around bring out the red one. Or idk maybe they contacted him and was like “yo dude can we like use him for merch” but i dont think that happened. I think it was just better to leave him absent from the show and be like “yeah no Tord guys, no Tord” and we could have all had our thumbs up and be like “Ok Eddsworld Beyond we are okay with that”. Like I know Red October was for charity but idk it still felt weird to use Tord, like could this really not have just been the main 3 or like bring in some deep cut old characters or side characters did we really need Tord here.

[lance-space-mommy]

A Bar So Low, It Was a Tripping Hazard in Hell

Izuku Centric! BKDK endgame

He cheated on me. I know when. I know who. I know where. I know how. I know who he cheated on me with. I have video proof and pictures. I have screenshots of texts.

I’m not dumb. He thinks I’m dumb. He’s been avoiding me. He knows I know of that I have a hunch of what he’s doing. He’s going to get defensive and call me crazy.

I’ve been letting this brew inside me for too long. At first, I was devastated. Then I felt a burning anger consume me. I was stuck in a cycle of sorrow and anger. Of course, I was grieving the loss of my relationship before it even ended.

I was waiting to dump him on my birthday. I don’t expect him to give me a gift or even remember. He’s always been a piece of shit. I just ignored it for my own sake.

My name is Izuku Midoriya I’m dumping my cheating boyfriend.

It’s not hard to find reasons to dump the bastard. The only reason why we started dating was because I was heartbroken and decided that trying to move on wasn’t a bad idea. It clearly was a horrible idea because I got cheated on.

His name was Seiki Kagurazaka and he was a second-year student at U.A. High. I got close with the majority of his friends which helped me in the long run. They ended up liking me more than him and outed him to me as a cheater. I was often busy with hero work while they were hanging out so I wouldn’t have known if they hadn’t told me.

We only were a month into our relationship when the person I originally had a crush on broke up with their boyfriend. I cursed to myself but was determined to move on considering he had to recover from the breakup anyway.

I was in love with Katsuki Bakugo. No shocker there. It’s impossible for my attention to be focused on anyone other than him. Unfortunately, when he started dating Kirishima, it hurt to even look at them. I was beyond happy and supportive, but I couldn’t help but feel my heart break.

Now here I am, standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at my soon-to-be ex in disbelief.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s important okay?”

“Really? I can’t believe you right now.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like our plans haven’t worked out before?”

“Oh my god. You actually forgot. We were supposed to go to my place to celebrate my birthday, asshole!”

Kagurazaka paled and the sight of his mortified expression brought me extreme joy. Usually, I’d be angry or upset, but I’ve never been more at peace. I was about to make the entire school see Kagurazaka was nothing more than a mindless fuckboy.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t remind me!”

That genuinely surprised me. I knew he’d get defensive, but this was a new level of stupidity. How I ever accepted his confession is beyond me.

Meanwhile, behind me, I heard the voices of my classmates. I knew Mina, Kaminari, Uraraka, Hagakure, and Ojiro were behind me. In my peripheral vision, I can see the spikey blond hair that belonged to Bakugo.

Behind Kagurazaka was the group of his friends that would drop him after we broke up. They were the ones who supported me after sharing the news that he was cheating on me.

Suddenly, I didn’t want my failed relationship on display for the school to see. I grabbed Kagurazaka by the ear and tugged him into a more private area of the school. I know some people would respect me wanting privacy, but I couldn’t blame those who followed.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Izuku! What the hell?”

I couldn’t help but let out an exasperated huff, letting go of Kagurazaka. This was it.

“You know what makes me crazy? I’m sorry, can I say this? You know what makes me nuts?” I didn’t wait for a response. “The fact that we could be together—Here together. Sharing our night. Spending our time. And you are gonna choose someone else to be with-.”

“No. That’s not—I’m not choosing-!”Kagurazaka went to interject, his defensiveness rearing its head again.

I shut that down quickly.

“No, you are!”

“No!”

“Yes, Seiki, that's exactly what you’re doing!” I can’t help but shout at him. He really thinks he’s going to win this. “You could be here with me Or be there with them. As usual, guess which you pick.”

“No Izuku, I have to go-!” snapped Kagurazaka in a way that said a thousand words.

Fuck those homewrecking bitches and his fuckboy guy-friends that probably supported his cheating.

Without missing a beat, I snarkily fire back at him. “No, Seiki, you do not have to go to another party with the same twenty jerks you already know! You could stay with your boyfriend on his fucking birthday!”

I got to know his friends and became really good friends with them, yet he had no shame in cheating on me in front of them. It was beyond embarrassing for everyone to see that I wasn't worth it for him!

This was more than him cheating. This was him cheating after not putting any effort into our relationship from the beginning. He wasted my time and energy. We were both training to become heroes. And sure, I am farther ahead than he may ever be, but couldn't he be proud of me? Or even pretend to be?

“And you could, God forbid, even see my interviews!”

Seeing his stupid face with no guilt written on it filled me with a rage I didn't know I could feel. I will resent Kagurazaka till the day I die. He clearly doesn't feel guilty about cheating and still refuses to admit it.

“And I know in your soul it must drive you crazy! That you won't get to play with your little girlfriends!”

The words I dreaded hearing suddenly met my ears. Kagurazaka now knows that I know he cheated. Kagurazaka knows that I know he'd skip out on dates to go to parties and hook up with whatever girl threw herself on him. He had nowhere to turn, so he'd suddenly project on me.

"You're crazy-!"

I feel his hands try and snatch my wrists to silence me. And in that split second any composure I had left was out the window. All restraints were forgotten and our relationship was officially done.

I shove him away hard enough for him to nearly fall over. Without worrying about who heard anymore, I shouted at him. "No I'm not, no I'm not!"

Kagurazaka's eyes widened, officially backing down. The line had been crossed and there was nothing he could do to mend what he's ruined. I no longer loved him.

There would be no more stolen kisses in the halls or in our dorms. There won't be any more secret hugs whenever we feel the urge to touch. There will never be fingers grazing as we walk through the halls side by side. My eyes will never meet his again after this. My voice will never be directed towards him after this. I'll be nothing more than a memory.

"And the point is, Seiki, that you can't spend a single day that's not about you and you and nothing but you! Marvelous, powerful, you!"

I can feel I'm using my whole body to exaggerate my screaming. Everything I was feeling was pouring out of my mouth. Feelings and thoughts I'd been bottling up about him were now being thrown right into his face.

"Isn't he wonderful? Just seventeen! The savior of Japan! You and you and nothing but you! Miles and piles of you! Pushing through windows and bursting through walls! En route to the sky! And l-"

I couldn't do it anymore and the tears started falling. I didn't want him to see me crying, but I felt so defeated that I couldn't help but break down at the thought of him cheating. We never did anything more than the occasional makeout, but he could sleep with multiple girls he just met?

He didn't even try to come up with a dumb excuse or apologize. He didn't beg for me to stay or say that it was an accident or a one-time thing. I wanted to believe he felt some guilt or shame, but deep down I knew he’d only be upset that I found out.

Even now, as I was crying before him he didn't even move to comfort me. He didn’t say a word to try and fix what he broke. I decided if this was the end, I'd leave nothing untouched.

"I swear to God. I'II never understand. How you can stand there straight and tall... and see I'm crying...and not do anything at all." I know I sounded pathetic and heartbroken, but the regret that finally appeared on Kagurazaka's face made it worth it.

As I saw his hand budge to reach out to me, I shook my head and turned away from him. There was a group shamelessly watching and I could tell the wish they fled the scene before I could see their faces.

Thankfully it wasn't random people and was made up of Kagurazaka's friends and my friends. It made the situation a lot less messy for me. Still, one of Kagurazaka's friends, more specifically the first girl who told me he was cheating, reached out to me.

"Izuku."

I raised my hand to signal I didn't want to be here, let alone talk at the moment. I dismiss myself and walk away.

"Izuku."

I wanted to scream, but the voice belonged to someone I could never be hostile to. All I do is turn to face Bakugo and shake my head.

"I'll see you tomorrow Kacchan."

I push open the double doors at the end of the hall and leave. I'll tell Aizawa I got sick and was heading home instead of my dorm. He already accepted my request to spend my birthday with my mother.

My birthday was spent in the arms of my mother. I ended up spending Sunday at home as well. I didn't want to answer the questions I know my classmates would have or see the looks of pity yet.

When I got back, no one asked any questions and there weren't any looks of pity. Apparently, Bakugo got house arrest for beating up Kagurazaka. Uraraka and Kagurazaka's ex-friends explained what happened to class 1-A. So, by the time I got back, all I got was support.

I was happy to hear I’d be able to rant about him to many of my friends whenever I found the strength to talk about it. It seemed that I also had plenty of second-years to talk to about it as well. Sure they saw him cheating, but I had embarrassing stories of him to share.

It seems Bakugo could sense I'd be coming back because he was waiting in my room when I walked in. All I could do was smile. And suddenly I can't imagine how I could ever bring myself to distance myself from him.

"Thank you, Kacchan."

"He's lucky I didn't kill him for doing that to you."

As long as it took me to move on, it pissed me off that all it took was one sentence for all those feelings to come back full force. Trying to ignore the rush that was making me dizzy, I stepped closer and plopped down on my bed.

"Yeah, I think he'll probably avoid me like the plague now."

I really hope he wouldn’t dare walk through the first-year hall. Then again, Kagurazaka was a piece of shit. He had no shame so I wouldn’t be surprised if he suddenly started dating another first-year by the end of next week.

"Yeah, you screaming at him was pretty badass. Definitely destroyed his ego with how you tore into him," snickered Bakugo, his smirk as devilish as ever.

"Thanks."

"Here. Take it."

Suddenly a small box is placed on my lap. I soon realized that this was a birthday gift considering I wasn't around for my birthday.

"Oh! Kacchan!"

Soon I was a crying mess all over again. After having my ex-boyfriend forget my birthday, this really got my emotions all over the place.

"Hey! Why are you crying?"

"I'm so happy." I pathetically cry out.

I open the box after a smack to the back of my head and a quick breather. Looking inside is a golden All Might charm bracelet. There were at least six limited-edition charms in addition to the limited-edition All Might bracelet the charms go onto.

Bakugo was most definitely collecting these charms for close to a year at this point. That information sent the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive.

I may have just gotten out of a relationship and this may make me a bad person, but I couldn't resist launching myself onto Bakugo. It seemed that Bakugo didn't mind being a bad person as well when he supported my weight and kissed me back.

The end!

This was completely inspired by the musical The Last Five Years and more specifically the song See I'm Smiling by Anna Kendrick! God the feminine rage in that gives me goosebumps everything.

[chesthighwater]

sidenote i just finished return of the obra dinn and am feeling a little insane. random bits from my playthrough (AND SPOILERS) under the cut.

no seriously you all know i'm very pro-spoilers that is my ideology but this is one of the rare pieces of media where even i say "yeah no you have to go in blind". so. if you think you might want to play it, go do that now.

OKAY ANYWAY

maba was one of the very first people i identified (after the captain-abigail-hoscut tutorial trio) via his tattoos [so i also avoided the whole "where's my frenchman" misdirection that got a lot of people] and so i developed a sort of camaraderie towards him for no reason. like, i'd walk into some absolute carnage, no idea who anyone is, trying to find my footing, and then i'd see him and be like "HEY THERE'S MABA! THERE'S MY GUY!". a friendly face in a sea of strangers. thank you maba my early game anchor.

brennan took me way longer than he should have- i had him pinned as someone else via accent due to a misattributed voiceline- but like everyone else i too felt very smart when i noticed his shot in the execution scene. good call on the game's part for not tackling the uh Philosophical Implications of firing squads.

THE MIDSHIPMEN. GOD. thomas is my favourite, obviously. regarding peter's death, i initially just assumed he missed/misjudged the powder throw due to being in an adrenaline fight or flight "OH GOD OH GOD GET IT OFF ME" situation. like, he was hoping to aim it lower, or elsewhere in hopes of injuring the kraken and getting it to let go, and just missed. if you've ever been in a near death Must React Fast situation you know it's not exactly rational thinking and precise flawless action you just do the thing. but then i read a theory that he lit the powder before he was grabbed, and then he forgot about it (on account of actively being grabbed), and by the time thomas noticed the lit powder it was too late. i quite like that interpretation. anyway, why is no one making them gay? must i do everything myself?

oh also! thank fuck for the glossary because i am Not an age of sail person. i think i have like... below average knowledge of ships. i stepped onto the deck like "hmm what the fuck is a bostun". why did anyone hire me for this investigation. i'd have to spend significantly more time googling if i didn't have the option to flip through the book every time i realise i don't know what a purser is. i'd really love to play this game with someone who actually knows their shit, it would be fascinating hearing how someone well-versed in the subject interprets the little details.

of course i also went through the initial "how the fuck am i supposed to figure any of this out" hitch, but once i got the right gameflow down it was a BREEZE. so incredibly fun. what i did was essentially decide on someone i want to figure out, bookmark all their memories, and just go through them in order observing that person, who they're with and what they're doing... those mini personal investigations were the most fun part for me.

immediate post-game heartache, by the way. as soon as i finished i thought "man, i wish this game was procedurally generated so i could replay it" IMMEDIATELY followed by "no, with the amount of attention to detail? impossible. this is a piece of art. handcrafted. an Experience. man i wish i could go back in time so i can replay it"

i had time to flip through some of the localisations as well and they were shockingly good (with only very minor inaccuracies that i noticed), and i know for a fact that that was no easy task. even beyond that, any gripes i have with this game are EXTREMELY minor. nitpicky. i'm not even gonna say them they're that insignificant. it's just an excellent game.

also i never noticed the mermaids have Three Pairs Of Boobs until i read the wiki

anyway. people i accidentally guessed correctly: peters brothers, two of the four chinese topmen (actually figured out the shoes trick for the other two!), george shirley. people i identified wrongly for way too long: brennan, martin, olus wiater, nicholas botterel (?sp). most fun had: when reconstructing an individual person's journey through all the memories they appear in. figuring out where they went and when and how and why they got there.

in conclusion talk to me about this game if you also played it okay i love you bye

[hauntedotherworld]

yesterday and last night were the fucking worst

i got shouted at called a liar, screamed at , in my face refusing to leave or stop

that PIECE OF SHIT MY BRother

he was outside my bedroom door, burst in the room said ‘who were you talking to’ in a way like hes amused

i said no - one , and i swore to god later that i wasnt talling ti anyone or anything i genuinly wasnt i was watching youtube with my earphones in.

he said yes you were stop lying

and we ended uo having a huge arguement where he kept calling me a liar and gaslighter (he is the FUCKIN gaslighter) accusing me nonstop, forcefully making me show him my phone, all my apps, all my recent calls and messages to ‘prove’ it and angrily saying i was and he DEFINTLEY heard it and im a fkn liar over and over saying to me’ youre calling me crazy’ BECAUSE I WAS SAYING I WASNT SPEAKING AT ALL, WHICH IS THE TRUTH. i have no reason to lie about that, who tf wiuld i be talking to?! and even if i was why does he give a fuck?!? im not allowed to speak? what if i was?

but i wasnt i swore on everything i showed him all my calls, messages he still wouldnt believe me and was right up in my face screaming im a liar for like an hour i was shaking from anxiety because that cunt was interrogating me and insulting me and refusing to leave my room. he wouldnt stop and demanding to know what i was watching etc etc saying im so secretive all the time and im up to sometjing and as an excuse he was like u used to talk to grown men bla bla when i was fucking younger

this pueve of shit. i didnt want an arguement he ALWAYS COMES LOOKING FOR ONE FROM ME MY MOTHER OR MY DAD. he yelled and screamed and smashed stuff to my mother the other day too i forgot why for no legit reason (but theres no legit reason to do that anyway,still)

he always looks for an arguement he is extremely aggresive pushy he has NO RESPECT FOR BOUNDARIES THEY DONT EXIST FOR HIM

fucking asshole i despise him i have never hated someone more he has fucked up my life

i cut, got a new razor a few weeks ago, its really sharp so some were deep.. i was seriously gonna k*ll myself lastmight, stayed up till 2 in the morning , took 5 of my (prescribed) pills but youre not supposed to take even 2 at the same time

i was tweaking tf out it gave me involuntry movements, RVERYTHING FELT LIKE A DREAM ISTG i couldnt type at all it was gibberish because i eas fully out of it

weirdest experience ever but i had to because i was freaking out from everything

and my dad just defends him basically he says hes an asshole but then says im overreacting and its not a problem cuz hes not always like that

HA! on a daily basis he screams and goes crazy on me my mother or dad over the stupidest thing hes a manchild

i wanna die so bad. i cant take anymore these fucking people

the police, social services know theyre the problem

im not fucking crazy they can convince me of that as much as they want