#but i would like to see them do doubles again

[tinfoil-jones]

Has Stan ever questioned Jerk Ford the reason why he is the only person he isn't a jerk to, since he's an a-hole even to the other members in their family?

"You don't know him like I do."

- Both Stans at the same time.

On Jerk Ford:

Throughout their lives, Stan insisted that just because Ford’s a jerk, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about anyone. He does care! Really! He just has a hard time showing it. No one ever believed him. You could just say that it’s a twin thing when Stan says something along the lines of “You don’t know him like I do” and they’re like well no shit he’s not a jerk to you. But, give Stanley some credit here, he’s more observant than you think he is.

---

Retired tech billionaire "Old Man" Fiddleford Hadron McGucket starts his mornings as he often does; going into his garage/workshop with a cup of coffee so he could re-tune his banjo for a few songs, quietly so as not to wake his wife.

He almost drops his cup of coffee when he see's theres something on his workbench that wasn't there last night.

A multitool.

One he hasn't seen in thirty years, but recognized instantly.

Carefully, he picks it and and inspects it, maybe it's just a replica.

FHM

Engraved in his late fathers handwriting, a loose scrawl that almost looked cursive if it weren't for the letters not being attached.

It's the same multitool. It's in pristine condition.

---

When they were just little boys, they were hiding behind the counter as their Pa was arguing with a customer, who ended up calling Filbrick a word they never heard before. Filbrick kicked the customer out, but it was clear he was more upset than he let off, in fact, he seemed almost sad, something neither twin had ever seen from their Pa. Filbrick then gave them a lecture that they can never repeat the word they just heard the man call him, because it was a very bad word that people used to insult and put down people 'of their faith'. 

A few minutes later, that same customer slipped on a banana peel that ‘came out of nowhere’, and sprained his ankle.

When they were a little older, Caryn was taking the twins out for a walk, when they passed a construction site and the construction workers started whistling at her, and giving her ‘compliments’ that she didn’t seem to like. She ignored it, but her little sons noticed her pace sped up and she almost rushed them away. 

That night, as those workers were double checking the work they’d done for the day, they were baffled to find that the concrete hadn’t set; the concrete had been tampered with, as if someone had poured a bunch of sugar in it while it was mixing. They’d have to redo it all over again, and it’d cost the company extra for the wasted concrete.

When the twins were in high school, Shermie, who had long since moved out but was visiting, was in tears telling their parents that his boss refused to give him the day off on the day his wife was due to give birth to their baby.

A week before the baby was born, his workplace was suddenly so badly infested with termites and roaches, that it would need two weeks to be properly fumigated, so the workers didn’t have to work while the fumigation was going on, and they’d still get paid because they were salary workers. Shermie was there with his wife when she gave birth to their son, and he got to dedicate a few days to just being with his wife and baby.

Their Ma would help out with Shermie's son sometimes, because both parents worked, but she also worked and would have her two younger sons help out with babysitting as well. And although Ford would gripe and complain about 'dealing with a brat all day', Stan had seen more than once that Ford would put the baby to sleep more than once by simply holding him in his arms and lying down with him, and also falling asleep.

In Backupsmore, Fiddleford was being bullied by a professor who looked down on him for being ‘a hick from an inbred, uneducated family’, and he was told to suck it up when he tried reporting her because she was tenured. In the middle of the year, she was unexpectedly replaced by a new, and much nicer, professor, and they were told their original professor was taking ‘an extended leave of absence’. 

She never came back, and it later came to light later on that the dean found a box full of documents and VHS tapes under his desk that hadn’t been there when he left his office the night before. All of which were extensive proof that the professor had been secretly embezzling the schools budget. 

When Ford comes back to their dimension after thirty years in the multiverse, no one who knew him from before is surprised that he’s still a huge indiscriminate jerk, and people who hadn’t personally known him but knew about him because of their yearly holiday that celebrated his disappearance were unpleasantly surprised to find out he was as bad as everyone said he was. And Stan didn’t necessarily disagree, but even after decades apart he could still see right through his twin as if he were made of rude glass.

Dipper's pens are suddenly indestructible to his chewing habit so no more mouthfuls of ink, and Mabel mysteriously never runs out of glitter; lately, it's also been more shimmery and almost... magical?

It doesn't matter where either of them fall asleep, they always end up waking up tucked into their beds, even though they told Grunkle Stan in the beginning of summer that they were too old to be carried and to just leave them wherever they’d crashed. 

Soos had been complaining all summer about his van making weird noises and having really poor mileage. Out of nowhere, Soos’s vehicle starts running like a dream and he’s getting ninety miles to a gallon, when it’s been twenty to the gallon at most as long as he’s had it.

Also, he didn't remember when he'd upgraded the graphics card of his home computer, but he sure is loving the higher FPS when he's playing video games.

Wendy is beside herself distressed and crying to Stan, Soos, and the Mystery Twins that her house had roof leak when a surprise summer rainstorm hit, and her favourite framed photograph of herself with her late mother was water damaged beyond repair, and is nearly unrecognizable.

The next day she asks her father when he’d made a copy of her photograph, and he replies that he has no idea what she’s talking about. She then takes a closer look at the newly framed picture she'd found on her desk that had been placed right next to her damaged one- did someone paint this…?

People assume that Ford only cares about his twin brother and no one else, because he's the only person he's never been a jerk to. But Stanley knows that isn't true; Ford loves just as strongly as he does, he just has a hard time letting people know.

As for Ford not being a jerk to him? Why would Ford bother, when Stan can see right through him? His twin is the only person who can see him, really see him.

---

Hours after Fiddleford had stormed out of the cabin with his bags in tow, Stanley looks over disheartened when he see's Stanford calmly place the multitool onto his own workbench.

"There were other ways to make him leave, Ford."

"I needed to make sure he wouldn't come back. That was too close of a call."

Ford had intended to give it back when the project was over, too bad it was on his belt when he was pushed into the multiverse.

[thanosscross]

Double, Double, Combo- Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader + Twin! Ji-Yong: part 2

Summary: After finally being cleared to perform again, you were determined to show the boys that nobody could perform like you did. Ending with you and your brother's groups celebrating a good tour so far, causing feelings to be brought to the surface between you and your brother's best friend

Warnings: Reader getting drunk <3, other than that none lovelies!

Translations!:

Oppa: Older Brother

Yeo-Dongsaeng: Younger sister

Umma: Mother/mom

Aein: Sweetheart

As always if I've mistranslated something, or missused a word, please let me know! As I am very rusty in Korean, I am learning though! <33

Watching the boys perform your set, you were in awe, mainly over how into it the boys were, each of them hitting every mark for the choreography, doing better than they would have with their own. Whenever you were finally cleared to return back to work, you were determined to show them up, wanting to prove to them and your fans, nobody could do your concerts like you do.

"Yeo-Dongsaeng!" Ji-Yong shouted, marching his way up to the stage as you panted loudly, trying your best to catch your breath before he made it to you. "Yes? Can I help you?" You asked, tilting your head slightly, knowing exactly what he was going to bring up "What changes are you making? And why did you tell YG to not tell me what they are?" He asked sternly, not liking the idea of you having full control over something, it wasn't that he didn't trust you, he did, he just didn't trust your free-will decisions. "It's fine! It's fine! Dae-Sung, and the girls are helping!" You smiled, trying to assure your brother that you had everything under control. Ji-Yong just huffed, whining softly "Just tell me!" He groaned, letting his head fall back as you just shook your head "Nope! You'll see tomorrow night at the show" You smiled, knowing your specific moves you had changed, were perfectly timed to Ji-Yong being off stage during a costume change.

Whenever the time would come for your section of the show, you'd be a nervous wreck, standing on your mark as you started to lowly sing into the microphone. Your album you and group had just released meant a lot to you, after constantly being seen as 'the baby of k-pop' you were determined to show the industry that you were a grown woman now. Swinging your hips to the music, you held your note, following the backtrack in your earpiece as you moved your hands down your torso, biting your lip as you smiled. As you smirked, you slowly slid to your knees, almost moaning the ending lyrics of your song as the music faded out. Your back-up dancers and the girls made their way to their next mark as you panted softly, glancing to the camera that filmed your performance and broadcasted to the big screen, smirking as you bit your bottom lip, bouncing back up to your feet to make your way over to your spot. Noticing as Seung Hyun stood off to the side of the stage, watching in shock before giving you a soft, sly smirk, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks.

You laughed softly as you heard the arena screaming loudly, knowing your brother would hear it, at least YG would be happy about the positive feedback to your last minute change in choreography. You'd have fun the rest of the show, your body getting the much-needed rest it lacked, allowing you to put your all into the performance, while not completely draining your body of every ounce of energy. Rushing off stage, you smiled brightly, turning around to face your group members, squealing loudly as you celebrated the successful show. "What. Was. That?" Ji-Yong asked, his tone was stern, giving you a harsh, protective glare "That was your sister making history, that boy groups aren't the only mature ones in K-pop" You huffed, turning your back to your brother, who just turned you back around by your shoulder "That was you doing something that Umma won't be happy about" He rephrased your statement, causing you to giggle softly "Umma saw it first, said I look beautiful" You smirked, watching as he stared in shock "You can do that and Umma doesn't get upset, but I have to hide tattoos!?" Ji-Yong laughed, you relaxed a little bit hearing him start to joke around, showing he wasn't too upset about your dance moves.

Whenever you all made it back to your shared hotel suite, you were all quick to let loose, knowing you had a three day break in-between shows, you were all going to enjoy it, with alcohol. While You and Ji-Yong were extremely similar, whenever you both were drunk? You were complete opposites. Ji-Yong ended up turning into the princess of the group, not wanting to move unless necessary, constantly fanning his face like he was royalty, or constantly gossiping your secrets, unless you had gotten to him first to stop him; You were outgoing, loud, and confrontational, always wanting to have the best time possible. As you danced around the suite with your bandmate, you weren't aware of your brother's gossiping to the group of guys a few feet away. "Y/n likes Seung Hyun, but DO NOT tell him, cause she lovesss him" He slurred, smiling softly as Seung Hyun blushed brightly, all eight of you were either tipsy, or drunk, there was no in between. Skipping over to the boys, right as your brother finished his sentence "Oppppa! What'd you say?" You accused, glaring at your brother as he was quick to cover his face laughing "Ji-Yong! What'd you say!" You repeated yourself, feeling your frustrations start to grow as he stood up "I told them you like Seung Hyun" He stated, before grabbing your hand gently "Listen to me, Yeo-Donsaeng! You two are meant for each other! You're perfect together!" He argued, you just huffed "No! You listen to me!" You shot back, poking his chest "Okay...I'm listening.." Ji-Yong replied, tilting his head, the others sitting and watching the two of you, it was already entertaining to watch you both argue, but it was even funnier watching you both argue while drunk. "What are you listening to? I wanna hear! Please!" You gasped, clearly too drunk to remember what the hell you were just talking about, jumping over to stand next to him as you looked around curiously, Seung Hyun couldn't hold back his laugh as he heard you. You just continued bouncing in your spot, looking at Ji-Yong expectantly "I'm listening to you!" He laughed loudly, holding your shoulders gently as he calmed your jumping "Oh! Ohh~" You stated, piecing together what was going on, your expression going from excited to frustrated again. "I like Seung Hyun! I don’t like you right now, Ji! So stop spilling my business to everybody!" You argued, poking your brother's cheek as he tried to keep his balance, the alcohol starting to hit you both. "Seee! I told you, Seung Hyun!" Ji-Yong slurred, turning to his tipsy friend, watching as he just chuckled and shook his head "Stop! You're telling my business, oppa!" You whined loudly, smacking your brother's chest quickly, he just huffed, grabbing your wrists as gently as he could "I'm not! I just want to see my yeo-dongsaeng happy!" He replied, almost like he was begging you to get with Seung Hyun already, you just huffed "I'd be happier if you stopped" Smiling playfully at him, your pout returned quickly as Ji-Yong just quickly shook his head "Rude, I oughta...I'm calling Umma!" You shouted, rushing to your phone as your bandmate snatched it first, giggling, Seung Hyun and Tae-Yang quickly restraining you and your brother. "I think, you two should go to bed" Tae-Yang laughed softly, watching as you went limp in Seung Hyun's arms, trying to make it harder for him to carry you. Seung Hyun just lifted you up, effortlessly carrying you while following behind his two other friends "Wait! I wanna sleep in Ji's room!" You protested as the boys forced you to part ways, your statement causing Seung Hyun to turn around quickly, rushing to catch back up with Tae-Yang and your brother.

As you laid in the hotel room bed, you huffed, everybody was either laying down or asleep now, and your brother was taking all of the blankets, leaving you to freeze. "Ji..Ji" you whispered, trying to shake him, or at least take some blankets back, he just stayed in his spot, sleeping peacefully. You sat up, determined to find another blanket or something, you were NOT cuddling with your brother in order to share the blanket, he'd probably try and smother you anyways. Standing up, you turned around to see your options, your bandmates had all made make-shift beds in the floor, and your brother's bandmates were fast asleep in their beds, making it seem like a real sleepover. As you tiredly made your way out of the bedroom area of the suite, you went into your room, snatching your blanket off of the bed, before going right back to the other room. You crawled into what you thought was the giant bed that you and your twin were currently sharing, instead never noticing the tall, older bandmember fast asleep with his back turned to you.

As Seung Hyun felt someone lay down next to him, he slowly turned his head to try and see who, relaxing whenever he saw the soft f/c of your nightshirt. "Y/n, Aein, you're in the wrong bed" He chuckled, turning around slowly to fully face you. At this point, you weren't concerned with any of it, the tiredness and remaining bits of alcohol in your system made you worried about one thing, warmth. Whenever Seung Hyun turned, you could practically feel his body heat radiating off of him, causing you to quickly scoot closer, pressing your body against his as you wrapped your arms around him tightly "J-Ji took the blankets, it's cold in here" You whispered, trying to find the best position to lay in to warm up the fastest, Seung Hyun just laughed softly, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. "Stop wiggling like a worm, and come here" He laughed, watching as you pulled his blanket up to your cheeks "I can't help it, you're really fucking warm" You giggled blushing as Seung Hyun pulled you even closer, your head and chest now laying on his, you suddenly became very sober and very aware of the closeness with your crush, his heartbeat racing, how amazingly warm he somehow was, how soft his hair felt whenever it brushed against your face anytime he'd let his head fall while laughing. "Ladies say it's because T.O.P is just too hot" He chuckled playfully, you covered your mouth, trying your best to quiet your laughs "You're adorable, truly, you are" You managed to get out through your giggles, Seung Hyun just shaking his head, keeping his arm wrapped around you tightly "Are you feeling any warmer?" He whispered after a moment, frowning whenever you didn't reply, as he glanced down, his heart fluttered. You were sleeping peacefully with your head rested on his chest, your hand gently placed over his side as you held his hand loosely, Seung Hyun could feel his heart racing even more after that, almost like it was going to explode.

Waking up the next morning, you were met with your bandmates, brother, and his bandmates surrounding you and Seung Hyun excitedly “you two are so cuteee!” Dae-Sung smiled excitedly, hugging your brother in excitement “leave me aloneee!” Seung Hyun groaned tiredly, rolling to face away from all of the others, after a moment, he turned back around pulling the blankets over your heads “this is better, I can see you this way” he smiled, you were in awe with everything, his voice whenever he first woke up, his messy hair, his cute sleepy smile. “Thanks for keeping me warm last night, I really thought I was going to freeze to death at one point” you giggled softly, hugging him gently before gasping “they have a coffee bar downstairs..wanna go with me?” You smiled softly, watching as his eyes lit up “why did nobody tell me about that?!” He gasped, throwing the blankets off of you both, jumping to his feet before offering his hand to you. “We’re going to go get coffee!” You smiled excitedly, waving to your brother before rushing off with Seung Hyun. The both of you rushed down the hotel stairs, giggling like children as you made it to the breakfast area of the hotel, a counter covered in nothing but different coffees, syrups, sugars, flavoring.

As you both sat at one of the small tables, you giggled watching as Seung Hyun finished yet another cup of coffee that you had made for him “see! It's good! And you said my coffee looks like it’d give you a cavity!” You giggled, he just smiled at you softly shaking his head “it probably will! But it tastes good” He protested laughing softly, you just rolled your eyes, knowing he secretly loved the drink, lifting your cup to your lips taking a sip, you noticed Seung Hyun watching from over the rim of your mug. Placing the cup down you raised your eyebrow at him “can I help you?” You asked playfully, reaching to wipe your mouth before Seung Hyun grabbed your wrist gently, grimacing at the thought of you wiping the foam from your coffee off of your mouth with your hand, something you did often “that’s not very sanitary, Aein” he laughed before standing up, leaning over the table to press his lips against yours, your cheeks immediately heating up with a bright blush. Kissing him back softly, Seung Hyun’s hand slowly found its way to cup your cheek, you felt your stomach flip and your skin tingle as you slowly pulled away from him, offering him a sweet smile “what has gotten into you, Sir?” You asked teasingly, he laughed softly, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke “Well, technically speaking, three cups of coffee, emotionally? I have fallen for you hard, Kwon Y/n, harder than I have any women, and it’s confusing, but I want to be confused with you?” he explained, almost like he was questioning his words as he spoke, you smiled, swearing you could hear your own heartbeat racing as you rested a hand on his cheek “Well..I mean..I think it’s kind of obvious from my rant last night, I feel the same” you sheepishly admitted, remembering your ‘argument’ with your twin brother in front of everybody. “So we’re doing this?” Seung Hyun asked, taking your hand in his, trying to contain his excitement that was mixed with nervousness “I guess we are” you smiled shyly, bringing him closer to place your lips on his again, Seung Hyun could feel his body relax, hearing your confirmation and your lips against his. Almost like it was planned, the others walked in, looking at you both in shock “Oh My..god” Ji-Yong whispered watching as you quickly pulled away, hiding your face, unsure of his reaction. Ji-Yong was always trying to get you two together, so he should be excited..right?

—

You like lovelies? I tried adding a little more length this this part <3 I never really noticed how short they were until the other day scrolling through on my phone (I usually write on my laptop) so please let me know how you like it! And if you prefer longer fics like this or the shorter ones <33 excited to hear from you lovelies!! <333

—

Taglist!!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou-0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

@goodnight-n-go-home

@skzdreamz

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@sunhyeswife

@ilovethe141

@saraaisfree

@cheese10001

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

ANGST SHADOWXREADER IDE BC I CRAVE FOR ANGST LIKE A B★TCH

Hey I was wondering if you could do a shadow the hedgehog x reader fanfic where Reader gets corrupted by black doom (not possessed)

(Side note: I got this idea for the fact we know shadow HATES black doom and the black arms and was really shown in sxsg)

Reader acts more cold,apathy,untruthful and cruel

their fur now with a notice able fade of black,dark red and red, Their pupils now the same as black doom, they wear the same golden chains with a set of gold-spiked medallions possessing a gem, and a double black cord necklace with red, blue, yellow, and purple ornaments on one and golden and silver pendants on the other that resemble the Black Arms' insignia,their fingers? More like demonic claws, Voice? Cold and uninterested., rest of their outfit? Robe like Just like black doom’s and shows of uneasy aura and power

“Where it Hurts Most”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Corrupted Mobian Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Never did he think Black Doom would be back. And never did he think would he use the person that he loves most to hurt him–you.

Notes: I decided to set this during Shadow Generations so I hope you don’t mind! Hope you enjoy it regardless!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“(This white space is weird,)” you thought to yourself. “(I haven’t seen anyone in here!)”

You had been transported here suddenly on your way to Sonic’s birthday party, and you hadn’t even seen any sign of Sonic.

Or Shadow, for that matter.

Or…anyone.

It was beginning to worry you.

When you next take a step, something wraps around your foot, causing you to yelp out of surprise.

It…seems to be this black-colored goop.

When you take a step back, the goop attaches itself to the ground and pulls you further.

“Nononono, I’m not dying like this!” you yell, trying to pull yourself free.

“FOOLISH FLESH,” you hear a voice say. “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE. NO, IT’LL BE MUCH, MUCH WORSE.”

You let out a loud scream as you’re dragged into the goop, it surrounding your body, a burning sensation covering you until your vision goes black.

When you next awake, you feel…better.

Stronger.

Perfect.

Looking down at your body, it seems you’ve undergone some fantastic transformations.

Your fur is now black and red, with gold chains littering your body, with a gold medallion placed near your neck, like a better necklace.

Different colored ornaments are strewn about the chains, and oh my Doom, your claws.

They seem to gradient into a black on your fingers, with your claws being ever-so-slightly red.

You also appear to be wearing a robe similar to your new overlord.

Black Doom.

Before you can admire your new form any longer, a set of footsteps causes your now dark-red-tipped ears to flick.

You turn around, looking at the mobian responsible for these footsteps, only to find fear in his eyes.

Shadow’s eyes.

…

Good.

“[Name]? What the hell happened to you?!” Shadow asks.

You let out a chuckle, an echo in your voice.

“I became better, Shadow,” you tell him. “And you can become better, too. Join me on the side of the Black Arms, and we’ll never be apart again.”

Shadow lets out a growl, getting into a defensive stance.

“I don’t want to fight you, [Name],” Shadow says. “Just snap out of it.”

“Snap out of what, exactly?” you ask him. “My glorious new overlord’s control?”

“Let them go, Black Doom! Right this instant!” Shadow demands.

“I’M AFRAID I WON’T BE DOING THAT, SHADOW,” you and Black Doom say at the same time. “THEY’VE BECOME BETTER, STRONGER, DON’T YOU SEE? YOU CAN BECOME JUST. LIKE. THEM.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I’d NEVER join you!” Shadow states.

“THEN HAVE FUN GETTING YOUR PRECIOUS [NAME] BACK,” Black Doom spats. “YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO BREAK THEM OUT OF THEIR CORRUPTION.”

“Go on then, Shadow,” you start with a mocking voice. “Attack me.”

“I’m sorry for this, [Name],” Shadow mutters to himself. “But I’ll get you back. I promise.”

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[lala056]

Exhausting

I have no respect for billford shippers that look down on stancest shippers.

Oh what, you’d have me believe a genetic tie to a partner is somehow worse than being with someone that stabs through your hands, forces you to swallow live spiders, and also SA’s you by having yourself forcibly strip down in public and swing your clothes over your head like a helicopter? (sorry but anyone that forcibly removes your clothes and exposes your body, even if you’re a guy/lacking breasts and it’s just your chest, is committing SA against you. They’re exposing your body against your will plain and simple. Try to write that off how you like but that’s the facts)

The logic behind this baffles me honestly.

There’s a reason Alex titled that kissing drawing as "the worst drawing in the world" and then linked to an amazon BIBLE page (yeah I know that was part of a joke well guess what he frequently uses the bible joke for shipping in general so yeah).

Because he knows it’s BAD, TOXIC, PROBLEMATIC AS YOU GUYS LIKE TO LABEL THINGS. What I see people incorrectly accuse PROSHIPPERS to REPRESENT rather than the actual representation of the LIVE AND LET LIVE CREDO OF SHIPPING.

Ever stop to consider that maybe Alex didn’t do stancest or art involving Wendy/Dipper because he simply a) didn’t like those ships, which is valid since everyone has their own tastes, and he did base some of these characters on his own family so it’s close to home for him, or b) knows how toxic and chronically online a lot of haters are? That he wanted to avoid drama for this stream that he’s trying to milk every cent out of for CHARITY? (It's ridiculous how many times he felt obligated to say "REMEMBER IT'S FOR CHARITY" when shipping came up just to try and prevent any meltdowns from uptight fans and viewers. And even then he still didn't do some because he knew the fact of it being for charity still wouldn't fly for some- because a lot of people would rather watch REAL PEOPLE SUFFER to preserve their fictional sensitivities)

Not to mention he still works with Disney (chibiverse hello), any backlash (the form of false pedo accusations or incest apologist accusations being what happens to be thrown around all willy nilly nowadays over fictional bullshit) could get him blocked not only from working with the company ever again, but lose any input he might have over his beloved passion project and baby Gravity Falls itself?

This is a man who has said COUNTLESSLY that he doesn’t care about ships, has even encouraged people to "be weirder" and made omelet hypotheticals for how much HE DOESN’T CARE BECAUSE FICTIONAL SHIPS DON’T MATTER.

Alex Hirsch is a KING.

And it’s sad to see that so many of his loyal subjets are so bigoted and blind to ignore his own feelings in order to justify their own, or to somehow perform the mental gymnastics in order to absolve themselves of "thought crimes" so that they can feel like they aren’t bad people under the imposition of conservative purity culture.

The terms "cest" and "age" are trigger words now. If those show up in any form, pitchforks come out and roofs get burned. Companies overreact and overcompensate. He said Disney people were watching, so of course he’s gonna say and act in what is deemed an appropriate manner because even companies apparently prefer abusive relationships to ones that have a blood tie even if blood ties are wholesomely depicted.

The age old double standards.

And don’t get me started on bringing up Dipper Goes To Taco Bell. Alex and cast know of that story, they’ve made references to it in a video game and such, immortalized it. They engage with all corners of their fandom, also shown by Jason’s "saving the town" reference on stream.

Another thing, anyone notice how they laughed off the Dipper and Wendy suggestion Jason made, rather than exploded? BECAUSE THEY DON'T CARE IT'S NOT THAT SERIOUS - and most likely turned them down because they know there's more drama about characters being aged up and crap so it wouldn't have mattered if they're adults now, there are people who will always see them as "kids".

Point is - If there was such a strong hate on Alex’s part about the darker side of fiction or taboos he’d do all in his power to make sure they were never mentioned again and be active against them. 

He’s a kind, caring man that obviously likes to just get along with people, but he does put his foot down when he feels something is awful. He’s made political posts about presidents he feels are corrupt and spoken out against social injustice. You honestly think he wouldn’t speak out about those taboo ships in frank language if he thought that they shouldn’t exist and that the people who create for them are awful?

Newsflash, he would. Yes, he’d isolate a sadly small part of his fanbase, but he’s shown time and again he doesn’t care about being liked. He cares about what’s right.

And abusing others over which made up character kisses who, isn’t.

If you’re someone that mislabels proshippers too, to mean "problematic shippers", then as a billford shipper you’re one by definition. And yes, I'm including you AU billford shippers too because there is always some degree of toxicity.

Knock the hate and abuse off. People that go off about why their ship is justified and another isn't are the reason people leave fandoms and leave amazing works often unfinished, even Gen writers and artists.

[traumadumpwriter]

JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they're unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, sexual assault, violence

Part One

Part Two

Part Three:

After the confrontation at your house a night prior, JJ had only been able to see red, quickly pacing past your mum before making his way to the Chateau, kicking over some bins and verbally abusing some kids on his way.

He couldn't believe that you liked him. That you wanted to be with him. The thought stressed him out and made him regret doing whatever he'd done to get you to fall for him.

It wasn't that he didn't like you back. In fact it was quite the opposite - he'd been entirely obsessed with you ever since you'd arrived in the Outer Banks. His issue was that he'd seen up close just how damaged you were, just how sweet and kind you could be, just how much you deserved the world and everything in it - but not him. He wasn't good enough; not cool enough, not smart enough, not clean enough.

"Why him?" He thought. "Of everyone on this island, why him?"

You could've gone for Pope or John B or even one of the Kooks, at least they would treat you right. It might've killed him inside to see, but it would've been better than the pain he was feeling now, knowing that he'd been unintentionally hurting you this whole time, knowing that he was the one who bore the responsibility of your heart.

He stormed into John B's without stopping, going straight for the blunt in the ashtray and then storming back outside. From his behaviour, the Pogues feared for the worst and Kie's eyes were quickly tearing up, panic settling into her chest.

"She's okay, isn't she?" She followed JJ outside in a pleading tone, shortly followed by Pope and John B. "Please say she's okay."

JJ didn't answer, angrily sucking on the blunt and staring out at the sea, his mind racing.

"Answer me JJ! What's happened?" Kie demanded.

"Is she alright? Was she at home?" Pope questioned.

"JJ- fucking answer us man! Is she at the hospital? Is she- is she okay?" John B shouted.

JJ took another sharp drag on the blunt before solemnly answering.

"She's fine. I mean, she's not, but she's alive."

Kie shoved him with some frustration, her tears quickly drying up but her teeth gritting.

"Why the hell would you scare us like that? What happened?"

"We had an argument... I- You were right Kie. It is my fault."

She blinked incredulously, double taking as she tried to suss out what was wrong with the boy.

"What are you talking about?" She questioned angrily.

He took another sharp drag, even sharper this time, ran his hand through his hair and then turned to the Pogues with exasperation.

"Y/N likes me! And I've been a fucking idiot to not see it. I shouldn't have rubbed all those girls in her face. I didn't think she cared, but.. I guess she did."

"So you're saying that like it's a bad thing. I thought you liked her too." John B proclaimed in a confused tone, shooting a look to Pope who had also been aware of JJ's crush.

Kie was kicking herself for not picking up on that, wishing she’d known and she could’ve told you weeks ago - before you even had the chance to get depressed and pick up a pill again. But she didn’t focus on that thought for too long, more focused on your current wellbeing.

"I do, I just- We all know I'm a piece of shit, okay? I don't deserve someone like her. Hopefully she sees that now." JJ tutted, his eyes darting between each of the Pogues.

The uncertainty of his statement made them all nervous. 'Hopefully she sees that now' - what the hell did that mean?

"What do you mean? What did you do?" Kie hissed, her heart in her throat.

"Nothing! I was just rude. I guess I rejected her. Called her a junkie-"

Kie hit him again, seething with the boy at that point.

"What is wrong with you? Why the fuck would you do that?" She snapped, grabbing the blunt from his hand and throwing it onto the floor. "Go back there now and tell her you love her! She's probably crying her heart out right now."

JJ shook his head, thinking about picking up the blunt from the ground but not bothering. Weed wasn't strong enough to make him feel better anyway. He wanted to follow Kie's instruction, he wanted to hold you and tell you his truth, but he could think of too many reasons why not to - too many reasons why you were better off without him. The rejection may hurt now but you would get over it. You had plenty of other options. You would get sober again and you would be fine. His issue was that whether he was sober or not, he was never fine.

"Being with me would only fuck up her life more and you all know that! You should just convince her to like someone else, someone whose good for her. I can't do this." JJ protested.

"You're not a bad guy, man. Come on." John B said but JJ just shook his head again, walking towards his motorbike.

"So you're just gonna leave?" Pope scoffed as JJ got onto the bike.

"I told her to turn on her phone. Try calling her again." He said numbly before kick starting the bike and speeding off.

Kie groaned, unsurprised that when she called your phone moments later it didn't go through. She sat melancholically next to Pope, leaning on his shoulder whilst John B stressfully kicked a stick around.

"Well that's not what I was expecting." Pope sighed and then turned to Kie. "How long has Y/N been crushing on JJ exactly?"

She shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't know. Forever. But that doesn't matter anyway. I'm worried. It must've taken a lot for her to admit that she likes him, so she's either really manic or.."

"Really high." John B finished her sentence, not looking up from the ground.

"How much do you want to bet it's the second one?" Pope groaned.

"I just don't get why she didn't talk to me if JJ was upsetting her this much. She promised us she'd never use again. She's never broken a promise before." Kie sighed and then stood up. "I'm gonna go to hers. I'm annoyed but.. I'm more worried than anything. I wonder if her mum has clocked on yet… I’ll see you guys tomorrow."

"Love that woman but she's clueless so I doubt it." John B scoffed dryly. "See you tomorrow Kie."

Kie picked up her bike and rode it to your house, her mind racing with all the possibilities of what you could be doing.

"Most likely passed out or crying." She thought, her chest aching as she thought of your pain. You'd been through a lot together, and though she was beyond frustrated with your relapse, she wouldn't stop being your friend because of it.

When Kie eventually knocked on your door, your mum was surprised to open it to her.

"Isn't Y/N at yours? That's where she said she was going. JJ upset her quite a bit earlier." Your mum questioned and Kie was quick to catch on to the lie.

"Oh yeah- yeah she is. She's just so upset right now. She forgot some stuff and I said I would come and get it for her."

"You're so lovely Kie. What would she do without you?" Your mum smiled, letting her in.

When Kie went up to your bedroom and picked up a bag to strengthen her lie, she was concerned to see that your phone was still on your bed. Wherever you'd gone, you hadn't brought it. She turned on the phone in hope that it would give some clue as to where you could be, but all that came through were the missed calls and messages from the Pogues.

Kie couldn't let herself panic though. You were grown enough to look after yourself.

"Maybe she just went on a walk. Or a bike ride even. That's most likely. She probably just went to clear her head. I'll try again tomorrow." Kie thought to herself, but she took the phone anyway, hoping that when you came back you would have to come get it off her. She scrawled a note onto your mirror with an eyeliner from the side; "Got ur phone. P4L. - K"

The next day, Kie waited until the afternoon to leave her house, waiting for your knock on the door that never came. She decided that she would go back to your house and confront you there, but when she arrived there was no one inside. Your mum would be at work - that made sense - but after pounding on your door loud enough to wake you up from whatever slumber you might be in and getting no answer, she started to panic.

All of the worst possibilities sprung into her head - a horrific vision of you overdosed and alone, bent over the toilet and throwing up uncontrollably or even passed out and foaming at the mouth - so she quickly rushed to find the spare key under one of the many plant pots and slammed it into the door. She ran up the stairs, loudly repeating your name as she did, and paced into your room.

"Y/N, please be okay." She said before opening the door, her heart dropping when you weren't in the bed.

Nothing in the room had moved, not the crumpled up bedding, the pile of clothes in the corner nor the note on the mirror. You hadn't come back.

"Shit. Where the fuck is she?" She muttered to herself before pacing around the house, desperately searching for you but finding nothing. "Need to find her."

Now her mind raced to even darker corners. Perhaps you'd fallen into one of the many bodies of water on the island, high and uncoordinated, and drowned. Or maybe you'd crashed your bike into an oncoming vehicle. Maybe you'd passed out somewhere and someone had called an ambulance, or maybe you’d put yourself in danger without even realising it. She had no idea how spot on she was with the last prediction.

Kie had told Pope of her plan to force you to come to hers by keeping your phone, and all of the boys had assumed that the confrontation had been over and done with by that point, so they were confused when she turned up at the Chateau without you.

"Did you speak to YN?" JJ asked, springing up from his seat as soon as he spotted Kie.

He'd hardly slept, tossing around in his bed all night as he thought of all the things he wanted to say to you but couldn't. "It was better this way." He tried to convince himself "She's better off thinking I don't want her. Maybe she didn't even mean what she said. Maybe she was just high." He couldn't push the image of him holding you and loving you from his head though.

"No. She never came to mine." Kie huffed, wheeling her bike over with furrowed brows. "And before you ask - yes I went to hers, she's not there. Doesn't look like she's been home at all since I went there last night."

"So where is she?" John B questioned, his posture tightening.

"Do I look like I know?" Kie snapped. "I'm seriously worried."

"Shit." JJ hissed, instantly jumping into a panic. He was quick and erratic. "Okay. We should all split up and look for her. I'll check the marsh and the forest, Kie you should check figure eight, Pope you check town, and John B you take the boat and check the waters. Report back here in two hours."

He rushed towards his motorbike before anyone could even answer, but stopped in his tracks when Pope suggested a disheartening idea. It was an idea that had occurred to both John B and Kie as soon as JJ had announced his plan, though it didn’t surprise them that he didn’t think of it. He was someone who always lived in a somewhat state of denial.

"Don't you think one of us should check the hospital too? You know, just in case."

JJ swallowed, catching the lump in his throat before it could properly form, and nodded.

"Y-Yeah. You do that." He said without turning around. He wanted to argue - to say that the idea was ridiculous and a waste of time - but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Pope might be right, and if he was... JJ had to cut his thoughts off before they got too hard to bare. He jumped onto his bike and sped off, heading straight to the marshes.

His search was obviously fruitless. He waded through knee high mud and lifted up heavy logs. He dug through thick bushes and climbed up trees. He shouted your name at the top of his lungs and prayed to God that you would appear.

But none of it worked.

By time the two hour mark had hit, he'd searched miles of forestry and worked up quite a sweat. Still, he wouldn't stop until he knew you were safe.

"Maybe one of the others have found her." He thought desperately to himself, jumping on his bike and heading back to the Chateau. They'd all tried to convince themselves with the same hopeful thought and been sorely disappointed when they eventually returned to their friends. JJ was the last to arrive.

"Any luck?" He shouted from his bike before he'd even got off it, springing across the lawn.

The rest of the Pogues were stood in a circle, also damp with sweat and breathing heavily. They looked upset which was understandable given the situation, but JJ felt his heart jump into his throat as he worried that the unimaginable had happened.

"Pope! She wasn't in the hospital, was she?" He asked with urgency, pacing over to the boy.

Pope was breathing heavily, still catching his breath from the run back to the Chateau.

"Pope!" JJ repeated in an almost shout, shaking his friends shoulders.

"No- No." Pope panted out.

"Chill, JJ. None of us had any luck." John B patted him on the back with a sympathetic look.

It didn't calm him down though. Instead he started to anxiously pace, running his hands through his hair and repeating to himself "Think, JJ. Think!"

"She might just be at someone's house. Who knows, she could be having a great time right now while we're thinking the worst." John B suggested which Kie rolled her eyes at.

"The only people she’d ever hang out with other than us are druggie degenerates, so it's not exactly great if she's with them either. Those people wouldn't care if she was on the floor foaming at the mouth."

"Well I don't know what you want me to suggest, Kie! We've looked everywhere else. Should we start banging on the doors of every junkie we know? Because that could take a while!"

As John B and Kie bickered, JJ continued his pacing, racking his mind for ideas until one shot into his head like a bullet.

"Wait-Wait. What did you just say?" He turned to his arguing friends.

"That she's probably with some drugged up degenerate?" John B answered in a sarcastic tone.

"That's it! She's probably at her dealers house. And I know only one scum bag who sells that prescription shit."

JJ ran back to his bike without saying another word, ignoring the questions from the Pogues as he kick started it and sped off - some hope finally in his mind though it was still mostly clouded by worry.

"Should we follow him?" Pope asked.

"Probably." Kie answered, heading towards the Twinkie with a sigh.

It was ten minutes later that JJ pulled up by Barry's house, carefully parking his bike around the corner so that the dealer wouldn't see him. They'd had their fair share of arguments already about JJ's dad and due to this JJ knew that he had a gun. It wouldn't do him any good to get caught on his property.

The blonde paced through the overgrown front lawn and almost jumped for joy when he saw your bike strewn lazily into one of the bushes - the signature ugly green paint instantly catching his eye. You would just be sat on the sofa smoking a joint or something. He could knock on the door, distract Barry without getting shot somehow and get you out of there in no time.

Then the sound of a large vehicle coming towards the house reached his ears, and he quickly ducked around the corner and crouched under one of the windows, anxious to not be caught by one of Barry's customers either. They typically weren't the most reasonable people after all. He was relieved with his decision when Rafe Cameron jumped out of the truck, music blaring and obnoxiously announcing himself as he knocked loudly on the front door.

JJ's ear pricked as he heard Barry's voice from inside, not having realised that the window on the wall above his head was open.

"Shit." The dealer tutted, followed by the sound of a zip. "Why now?"

Barry's breathing was heavy, like he'd been doing exercise, and it peaked JJ's curiosity. Was he working out whilst you watched from the sofa? That would be fucking weird. There was no way you would be lifting weights with him.

JJ listened carefully, waiting for the sound of the front door to open and the start of a passive aggressive conversation between the two men before he stood up and looked in the window. If either of them caught him, that would be a lot of trouble.

He wasn't at all prepared for what he saw through the glass though.

The sound of the zip suddenly made sense, and the heavy breathing. You were there, lying in an unmade bed, stripped naked and seemingly asleep. Even unconscious your face looked so sad and your body looked tired; thin, with random bruises scattered about your limbs and dirty looking hickies on your chest.

Had you let Barry do this? Surely not. Surely you had more self respect than that.

The thought of any other man touching you was enough to make JJ feel upset, let alone a scumbag dealer that he knew you would never have any real feelings for. But then it dawned onto him - that if you hadn't wanted Barry to have sex with you, that didn't make it any better. In fact, it made it a whole lot worse.

It meant that... you'd been tricked or forced or coerced in some way. It meant that you'd been raped. And maybe you didn't even know it. Maybe you were so knocked out that you would have no idea what Barry had done. Maybe he had drugged you on purpose so that he could do it.

JJ's blood boiled, so much so that he felt himself getting physically hotter, his teeth grinding and his fists clenching. He tapped on the window, hoping to get a response from you, but you stayed stiff and still, your eyes closed and your breathing shallow.

How much had you taken? Had he given you something too strong? Did the dealer even know if you were on the boundary of never waking up? Did he care? Either way, there was no way you could've rightfully consented to doing anything sexual with anyone. Not when you were clearly out cold.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." JJ hissed to himself, trying to quickly brainstorm a way to get you out of there without getting killed by Rafe or Barry.

He pulled out his phone and went to text John B before remembering that he'd ran out of data, cursing himself for not paying his bill once again. Then he decided to creep around the back and listen in through another window, hoping that he'd overhear something to help with his plan. All that he heard didn't serve to help though, in fact it made his rage all the more fiery and his brain even less able to come up with a good idea. The desperation was becoming torturous.

"Where's Y/L/N then? I can see her ugly ass bike out the front." Rafe asked in a mocking tone.

"She's in bed, sleeping. What's it to you country club?" Barry answered.

Rafe scoffed. "I caught you mid fuck didn't I? Sorry for being a cock block bro. Can't say I'm not jealous. Bet she's a total freak in the sheets."

JJ could practically hear the smug smirk on Barry's face.

"Yeah, tits like you've never seen. And pussy like a vice grip. You wanna come take a look? She's out cold."

"You already know my answer to that, bro." Rafe chuckled.

JJ's eyes widened, a deep panic settling into his chest. You would be mortified to know that Rafe Cameron had been ogling your exposed form, let alone the potential that Barry might actually let him sleep with you. He ran back around to the other window and banged on it one more time in hopes of waking you up before quickly ducking down again just as the two men entered the room. He couldn't stay down and listen to their crass remarks this time, he couldn't bare it. He had to cause a distraction.

With a rush of inspiration, he picked up a rock and lobbed it at Rafe's truck, creating a loud thud as it dented the exterior. The two degenerates stormed outside at that and JJ heard the sound of a gun clicking.

"What the fuck was that?" Barry muttered whilst Rafe angrily proclaimed "Something dented my ride!"

"If there's anybody out there, you better come out now!" He shouted, his voice echoing around the vacant lot of overgrown swampland.

Then right on cue, the Twinkie pulled around the corner, a very confused looking John B in the drivers seat with Kie and Pope sat behind him. Rafe scoffed something bigoted about the Pogues before stamping over to the van, knocking so hard on the window that he was almost punching it. JJ would've been glad for his friends arrival if not for the pistol in Barry's hand.

"You dented my fucking car. Get the fuck out here!" Rafe demanded as Kie slid open the door, pacing at him with a scowl.

"We didn't do shit to your car. Now where the fuck is Y/N?"

"Didn't do shit? Look at the dent! You're paying for this Kie - since I know you're the only one with any money."

"I'm not paying for something I didn't do. Now tell me where my friend is. I can see her bike there and I swear to god if either of you have hurt her-"

"What are you gonna do? Huh?" Rafe cut her off with an intimidating smirk, stepping so that he was inches from her face. "You can't do shit."

Pope jumped out of the van and quickly got in between them, his nostrils flaring as he eyed the sociopath. John B quickly jumped out too, though before he could open his mouth to say anything Barry had cocked the gun and pointed it at the trio.

"Y/N ain't here. She bought her pills and wondered off into the marsh. Left her bike behind. Now if you want to find her before the gators do, you lot best be on your way."

No one moved an inch, horrified by the revelation of Barry's statement.

"And you just let her go? What is wrong with you? She could be dead!" Pope hissed, an unexpected volume to his voice.

JJ could no longer sit and silently listen knowing that his friends were about to embark on another wild goose chase. You were there, mere feet away. This was their best opportunity to do something before anything else could happen to you.

Feeling that the dealer was sufficiently distracted, JJ decided to fully open the window and climb inside, struggling slightly with the old frame as he pushed it up. Once he was in, he instantly rushed to your side, gently shaking your shoulder in an attempt to wake you up again.

"Y/N it's me. We've got to go." He whispered, only getting a groan back from you.

Your hair was splayed messily around your face like the petals of a flower, making him think to the mornings he'd spent with you in the past. How he'd woken up beside you after a night of drinking and wanted to kiss you, but held himself back in fear that you would find it weird. That you would remind him that you were only friends with the occasional benefit. That you'd laugh in his face. If only he'd known how wrong he was.

Perhaps he didn't deserve you, but if being by yourself meant that you were going to do this to yourself... he would have to fight until the end of the earth to be with you.

In that moment, he regretted so many of his past actions. From the random girls he'd kissed in front of you to his recent rejection of you, he knew that once you were safe and awake he would do anything and everything to take it all back.

You would be his. No one else's... This could never happen again. No one other than him would touch you. He wouldn't allow it.

He looked around the room in a panic, picking up your shirt from the floor and lifting your head so that he could pull it over your body. Your body weight was resisting his actions, dead and heavy, but when he found your underwear and started to pull them up your legs, you finally flinched awake - even if it was only slightly.

"No Barry. Not again." You mumbled, lifting your leg to kick him away.

"It's me - JJ. We're gonna get you out of here." He said quietly, pulling your panties up so that you were covered and then slipping his arms underneath you to hoist you up bridal style.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, your heart jumping into your throat.

"JJ?" You whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"It's me baby. It's me." He repeated in a hushed tone. "You're safe now."

Then he heard the sound of the van starting outside and knew that he had to be faster. He looked around the room for a weapon and was pleased when he spotted a shotgun leant against the wardrobe, an idea springing into his head. He quickly put you back down on the bed.

"No. No. Don't leave me." You choked out, your breathing becoming rapid with panic. It broke JJ's heart to hear.

"I'll be two seconds. I promise you'll be okay." He mustered the softest tone that he could, stroking your face and placing a delicate kiss on your forehead before picking up the gun and charging out of the room.

As soon as you were out of his sight, his bubbling anger returned. No longer would he be able to put on a calm front, that time had ran out. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his skin went hot again, thinking of the vile words he'd overheard.

He pumped the gun one time, making sure it was loaded, and then slammed open the front door, quickly drawing the attention of the bickering degenerates outside. John B also quickly noticed his friend too, instantly stopping the Twinkie from reversing and jumping out again as he watched JJ in disbelief. The scene moved so quickly that none of the Pogue's were able to immediately process it.

With a cry of anger, JJ lifted the gun above his shoulder and then slammed the butt of it as hard as he could into Barry's head, knocking him out instantly. The dealer fell to the ground and dropped his own gun, and before Rafe could reach for it, JJ pressed the barrel to his chest. Rafe held his hands up in nervous surrender, though it didn't mean much.

"I should fucking kill you both!" JJ shouted. "You fucking piece of shit. You like girls when they're passed out? Huh? You like girls that can't say no?"

"Woah man. Chill. I didn't touch her." Rafe tried to calm him down, his eyes wide with fright. "It was all Barry. I just got here!"

At the realisation of what JJ had alluded to, the three other Pogues ran to join in the confrontation again. They felt sick at the idea that you might've been hurt - especially by two such unsavoury characters.

"Where is she?" Kie shouted, throwing punches into Rafe's side whilst Pope picked up Barry's pistol from the floor and kicked his body a few times.

"Inside." JJ answered through gritted teeth, staring Rafe down and struggling to not pull the trigger. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

Rafe stumbled for a moment, swallowing before he collected himself and answered confidently "I didn't even touch her. Kill me and you’re going away for life! There’s not gonna be any of my DNA on Y/N, I can promise that! I’m not into passed out chicks. That’s all Barry.”

JJ didn’t move for a second, thinking on the boys words before lowering the gun slightly. He would make him suffer another time. In that moment, Barry deserved his attention much more.

"Get the fuck out of here." JJ eventually hissed.

Rafe did exactly that, backing away quickly to his truck and speeding off. The blonde turned his attention to Barry now, who was groaning as he slowly arose from the ground. Without hesitation, JJ bent down to his level and started to throw punches, blinded by fury and bloodlust. His nose cracked first, then his cheekbone, then his eye socket. JJ didn't know how long he'd been attacking him for when he felt John B's touch on his shoulder and heard his voice in his ear. The brunette had found you in the house and lifted you into the Twinkie during JJ’s raging, stood and watched for a moment and then decided to stop his friend, worried for your welfare despite enjoying the show very much.

"Come on JJ, that's enough."

Barry's face was an unrecognisable bloody mess, but he couldn't stop.

"J, you're gonna kill him."

That didn't matter.

"We need to get Y/N out of here. Let's go!"

The sound of your name did halt him. His knuckles were bruised and his chest was panting.

"He raped her, John B. She was passed out in there and naked when I found her!" He turned to his friend with a desperate expression. "We need to kill him."

"I know, I know. But he's not worth the prison sentence, J." John B struggled to bite back his own rage but managed to do so, speaking in a soft tone as he tried to calm his friend. "We'll make him suffer, don't you worry. But right now we need to go."

The blonde boy finally nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat dizzy from the adrenaline as he stood up and made his way to the Twinkie. Once he saw you inside, your half dressed body curled up on Kie's lap as you cried, the guilt came back to him in an agonising gut punch.

"This entire thing had been practically all his fault." Was all he could think. "From the relapse to this. He'd fucked you up without even trying."

He ignored his friends shouts as he paced back to his bike and said nothing as he rode off, deciding that he would go to a bar and drink his thoughts away for the night. As John B had said; it wasn't worth getting a prison sentence for murder, but that didn't mean he couldn't find some other random people to fight.

Hiiii I hope y’all enjoyed. I might make a part 4 depending on feedback. Stay safe!!

[dunmeshistash]

ive always wondered if milsiril's overprotectiveness of kabru was less because of infantilisation (although she def like all elves has that problem) and more so out of guilt. she was a captain of the canaries during the Utaya incident I believe and she witnessed what happened and she couldn't stop it. and she left the canaries because of it and took in the kid who was the Only survivor, raised him in extreme comfort so he'd never see the horrors again and didn't want him anywhere near the dungeons! like i think learning self defense for defenses sake would have made her hesitant but she would have obliged but because it was specifically for the dungeons she was so against it. also like he must have had a rough few years dealing with that trauma as well which doubled her protectiveness

I believe it's a mixture of both, I don't think you can really take away the guilt (actually unsure if that's the best word to describe it) nor the race relations from how Milsiril sees Kabru.

I am the Milsiril apologist ™ but the fact she see's Kabru as a child even now is a big part of their relationship, she's a mother that can't grow up (both for being an elf and for her own issues) and that has to cope with her children outgrowing her fast

Putting a read more cause as usual when it's about Milsiril I talk too much

We can see in every way Milsiril acts that she sees Kabru at most as a toddler during his time with her, she's hand feeding him, has him in a room full of toys and talks about him like he's a cute baby.

I think people are too mean about this side of Milsiril tbh. I think it makes her interesting and it's clear (to me at least) that she does her best to provide for her children even if she doesn't truly understands them. Even in that first interaction with Kabru where she's trying to hand feed him they were *already* training with swords beforehand.

Milsiril also talks to Kabru in a way that kinda seems to expect him to understand more than what a small child would like we can see in the AB extra

So her infantilization doesn't extend to underestimating him at least, rather I think that's how she shows affection (which is still bad 😭)

Anyway, about her trauma with the dungeon and guilt (or maybe shame? Fear?), I do think that was one of the motivations for her to take Kabru in as I said in this post (beware I am a Milsiril apologist and I am VERY biased in seeing her in a more positive light, doesn't mean it's true) but I think that side of her manifests in her sudden switches from crybaby mom to ruthless master

Milsiril is very emotionally unstable from what we can see, she's really trying to convince Kabru not to go into dungeons and when tears don't work she switches into training him so hard he'll give up on his own. I've seen people call this her "true colors" or say she was using "crocodile tears" but in my opnion both the tears and the threat are genuine, I don't think it's a planned switch but rather the fact she's unstable to begin with, both the crybaby mom and the scary swords master are her true self.

Anyway! I think both guilt and infantilization are intertwined in her love towards Kabru, I've said this before but she's a flawed caretaker in a world where she does not have the resources to become a better one. She's traumatized she's depressed and she's an elf, but she's the only one (that we know) willing to at least *try* to treat the people she cares for the correct way. If it wasn't for Milsiril Kabru would have been raised by elves like Rin was (and we know that went very bad, they traumatized her), and Mithrun might not have received the proper rehab he needed to go back into the canaries (He might have managed but we see Milsiril put in the effort to help him cope besides being the one to tell him about Utaya)

That is all to say: Milsiril is still flawed!! It's part of what I love about her, and it's the reason so many people dislike her too. I'm saying this cause sometimes when I go on my Milsiril rants I get asks putting down Kabru to raise her up and that's like, very uncomfortable lmao. Even if she did her best he still was the one that to deal with all of her shortfallings while being raised and he's still the one responsible for getting to where he is, she just made is easier than it could have been.

Disclaimer as is usual for my Milsiril posts: I'm a Milsiril fan, my interpretations of her are very charitable because I often see people being way too uncharitable about her. Please read the original material and make up your own interpretation, this posts only contain what I think it's relevant for my point not an objective view of the whole. I've also already made several posts about her and I don't want to keep repeating myself so if you think I glossed over something important that's probably why.

Edit: thinking more about it, maybe rather than feeling guilty herself she might blame "elves" as a whole for the failure in Utaya, it does say she left it "in disgust". It's not that clear how she feels about it.

I still think it's shared trauma though, I don't think it's possible for Milsiril to not have been affected by what happened there and I think it's part of why she doesn't want Kabru to go to dungeons again. But her way to cope is to turn away from it (and blaming "elves" might be part of how she copes) while Kabru's is to face it so it doesn't happen again

[sorinethemastermind]

Reunion

In which Harrow sees his sons again. [because @lunanightriderofthecove wanted a sequel to this one where Harrow sees his sons again and I thought that was a splendid idea. Happy Birdthday to the King of Katolis!]

Harrow cocked his head, glancing up at Opeli above him, adjusting his perch on her arm. He ruffled his feathers and let out a small coo, drawing her attention. She looked at him with an expression someplace between confusion and pi-

Oh, was that a bug?

Harrow lifted off from her arm, surroundings temporarily forgotten, and soared through the great double doors Soren had just opened to land on the red carpeted floor. He hurried forward, jabbing at the ground with his beak until he'd managed to skewer the cricket.

A loud thump came from behind him and he jumped, images of Viren and cage doors slamming flashing through his mind. He took to the skies again, except the sky had been replaced by a marble ceiling, cloudless and white. He squawked, panicking filling for a moment before-

"Dad?"

The voice snapped him back into his own mind again and he settled on a nearby table, turning to search for it's source. There was a throne at the end off the great hall, familiar though the wood was now scorched and blackened. And seated in it was...

He flew forward, wings flapping frantically. He looked so different, so much older. But Harrow would have known that face anywhere. It didn't matter how long he hadn't been himself, it was his son. He lighted on the arm of the throne, staring up into Ezran's big blue eyes as they filled with tears.

He was certainly older, and not just physically. Harrow could see the crown - silver in place of gold, but still just as heavy - sitting on his brow. The lines under his eyes that no child should have. Except he was no longer a child, was he? A teenager?

Harrow experienced the strange sensation of knowing that he was crying without the capacity to cry. The same feeling but none of the affects. He took a tentative step forward, talons hooking into the wood as he leaned as close as he could. He reached out, brushing his hand against Ezran's outstretched hand. He cooed, knowing his words didn't matter but wanting to say them anyway.

Except Ezran smiled through the tears, a small laugh forming in the back of his throat, "Yeah, I'm okay. I missed you, too."

Harrow stared up at him, then leapt forward into his lap, gazing up into his eyes as he began twittering again.

Ezran wrapping both hands gently around him, thumb gently stroking his feathers. But Harrow knew the touch for what it was. A hold, tight, but not constricting. As though he was afraid he'd slip through his fingers at any moment.

"Yes, he's okay, too." Ezran glanced across the room for a moment, "Soren, will you go and get Callum? And Rayla, too."

"You got it!"

Harrow turned to watch the Crownguard spin on his heel and hurry from the room, Opeli right on his heels. He had grown so much, too. But not just that, he had also changed. So much had changed. And he had missed all of it.

Harrow turned back to his son, cooing another question.

Ezran smiled, tears still spilling silently down his cheeks, "You'll like Rayla. She's Callum's girlfriend."

Harrow twittered and watched Ezran's face fall. He hopped closer, cocking his head to the side worriedly.

"Yeah I... I guess he did finally get over her. There's a lot to tell you, Dad. I don't really know where to start."

The beginning, Harrow prompted. He would have been happy to listen to Ezran talk about anything for hours, anything at all.

His son took a deep breath, but instead of answering his questions, he asked one of his own, "Did Lord Viren do this to you?"

Harrow's eyes narrowed and he dipped his head, squawking a frustrated confirmation. When he got his han- talons on that traitorous mage he would-

"He's dead," Ezran told him, gently.

Harrow stopped his squawking, staring up at him. A wave of emotion crashed over him, confusing and unexpected. Surely not... sadness. Not after everything Viren had done?

"I'll explain everything once Callum is here," Ezran assured him. Then he added; "I'm so glad you're back, Dad."

Harrow cooed in agreement, rubbing his head against Ezran's hand once again. Just then the doors flew open behind them and he turned to find Callum standing in the doorway, taller and wearing-

Wearing the robes of the High Mage's office, a white streak through his hair.

An image of Viren, not much older than his son must now be, standing in a similar outfit and a similar castle flashed before his eyes.

But then Callum took a hesitant step forward, gait breaking into a run, and the image was forgotten.

"Dad!" he cried, dropping to his knees before the throne to throw his arms around Harrow, who stepped forward into his son's embrace. He cooed softly, nuzzling Callum's cheek with his head.

"He says he's glad you're okay, and that he loves you very much," Ezran supplied.

Callum pulled away after a moment, staring down at him with wide eyes. "We're going to get you out of there," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I know a spell that will fix all of this."

Harrow stared up at him, once again the image of Viren flashing over his son's face. He looked away, gaze wandering over the room to land on-

The assassins. They had found him. Somehow they were here.

Harrow launched himself into the air, squawking furiously as he tried to draw Callum and Ezran's attention. The elf, who had previously been skulking in the doorway, flinched back. He saw Soren reach out towards her and for a moment felt reassured, but the Crownguard merely patted her on the shoulder before pushing her gently into the room. Of course. Why had he trusted Viren's son?

Except then Callum turned, eyes lighting up at the sight of her, and beckoned her forward as well. She walked hesitantly to his side and his son straightened up, tucking an arm around her waist. Harrow stopped cawing and lighted back on the arm of the throne, wings spread protectively before Ezran.

"Dad, this is Rayla. My girlfriend," Callum said. The elf gave a small wave.

"We're at peace now, with the elves," Ezran said from behind him and Harrow turned to look at him. "Didn't Soren tell you?"

An image of a green haired elf surfaced from his memory, hand outstretched and full of berries. Harrow lowered his wings, cooing softly with embarrassment. He remembered, now, Soren introducing him. And- and there had been another person there, too. Not one of Viren's children. Corvin? Corvus! He had been there as well, working alongside the elf with comfortable familiarity.

Harrow dipped his head beneath his wing. It was becoming harder and harder to connect the dots. To hold onto the pieces of himself that weren't as close to his heart. He could feel things slipping away from him, things he knew he should know and remember. But the image of his sons had always remained clear in his mind, an anchor holding him together at his center, keeping all the drifting pieces together. Or as together as they could be.

"It's okay," Ezran reached out and stroked his head, seeming to sense his worry. "Callum is going to get you back."

Harrow looked up at his sons, glancing between them. Ezran gave him a watery eyed smile and Callum knelt back down to reach out and hold him again. The three of them reunited at last.

Whatever had happened over the years he'd been gone, however much they had grown and changed, these were his sons. And so long as he held onto that knowledge, he knew nothing else mattered.

[mxpseudonym]

The thing about Joy

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Joy (OC or highly characterized reader)

Summary: Nanami swears he’s done with Joy, but no one believes him, not even himself.

Length: 1643 words

Warnings: Smut, obsessive tendencies

A/N: I almost forgot how to set up a fic, it’s been so long. I’m a little rusty but she’s cute.

“You remember Joy, don’t you, Nanamin? What happened with her?”

Nanami fixated on the subway car window thinking about the prying questions Gojo never failed to ask. It had been eight months since his senior found out he’d broken up with the girlfriend Gojo only met once, briefly in a "chance" encounter Nanami was sure was purposeful. Eight months and Nanami still got an arm thrown over his shoulders and the question of what happened. His answer was always the same.

“It just didn’t work out. When adults discover they want different things, they can part amicably.”

The jab at Gojo’s immaturity was pointless, however. Gojo would just hum and say it was too bad, only to do the same actions two weeks later. Nanami supposed he had to give the man credit. He likely wouldn’t stop until he heard the truth.

Which would never happen. Because the problem with Joy was that she was a little crazy.

Nanami’s eyes shifted from the gritty, underground walls passing just beyond the subway windows before him to the image of his reflection before it. His face mask covered a good amount, but he could still see his eyes. He could tell something was missing.

The walk home from the station was quick, even when he stopped by the local convenience store for dinner. He lingered to watch a few stray cats playing and took in the character of his neighborhood. And still, just as he stepped into his apartment, his phone rang.

He ignored it, prioritizing checking his apartment for safety and turning on the kitchen lights. His phone buzzed again as he washed and then dried his hands.

“Hello?”

“Nami, help me.”

Nanami paused, pulling the phone from his ear to see the crown and heart emojis on his caller ID. His guess was right. He leaned against his counter before bringing it back up to his ear.

“-tried but it doesn’t work.”

She was panting and her voice was broken. He could hear she was close to sobbing, but also two glasses of red wine deep.

“Nami?”

“Yes, Joy?”

“I can’t do it without you.”

“Do what?” He asked a question he already knew the answer to in an attempt to buy any time he could. There was a pause, but he didn’t mistake that for her taking time to come to her senses.

“Kento,” she breathed. “I’m trying to make myself cum.”

His head dropped, eyes squeezing shut. One sentence and a vision expanded in his mind. Her freshly showered body lay in the middle of her bed, her still wet hair dampening her blankets in the way he hated. She was probably wearing the baggy sweatshirt he got from his old company. They couldn’t bother to double-check his size when they tossed them out at the end of a staff retreat. She always loved it. He’d roll up the sleeves for her when she’d walk around with it falling just under her boyshorts.

She’d be laying with it on, fingers desperately pulling at the hem to reveal her panties, if she was wearing anything at all.

“Do you have time for me?” Her question brought him back to his kitchen. He had a multitude of things to say to her. This wasn’t putting space between them in the slightest.

“Joy.”

“Kento.”

“You shouldn’t call me like this.”

“Is it because you said we’re no good?” She asked. The question was followed by a moan at the phrase. She continued in a shaky breath, “Because I drive you crazy?”

“You do drive me crazy,” he murmured, remembering how right he was when he told her that six months before.

“Then why don’t you hang up? Why do you still answer your Princess?” She pestered.

“Princess,”

“Yes?” She cut him off, answering to the name. He rubbed his lips together while memories of him calling her that flashed through his head. He didn’t dare look at his slacks, not that he needed to. He could feel himself hardening.

“Did you roll up the sleeves?” He whispered, finally. The small gasp from the other end was satisfying. At least he knew her just as well.

“I did, like always.”

“Good. Good girl,” he breathed. She whimpered on the other end. “I guarantee you’re going too fast. Trust me as someone who is an expert on making your pussy cum. You’ll feel overwhelmed and run from it but keep it up.”

He loosened his tie and told her to put him on speaker. He needed her sweet thighs parted, back arching. He needed her using the wetness from between her lips to make slippery circles on her clit. He needed her.

Only the sounds that were so familiar he committed them to memory were coming through the phone. He knew she was grasping the sheets with her manicured hands and her brows were furrowed.

Nanami turned, tossing his phone on the counter, and put her on speakerphone before clutching the edges of the granite. He looked down at his slacks. There wasn’t enough shame in the world that would stop him from unbuckling his belt, he thought. He knew she could hear the clinking of metal- the sound of the zipper.

“Are you,”

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he grunted.

“Ah!” the nickname pushed her over. “Not enough, more. More please.”

“Two fingers.”

He heard her shifting and knew she was on her tummy, knees spread wide, pussy dripping and on display. Her breath trembled as she found herself. He heard the squelching of her sucking on her fingers and then panting as she removed them from her mouth. A desperate mewl followed it moments later.

“Oh my god.”

“They went in easy, didn’t they?”

“I’m so wet. They went right in.”

Nanami clenched his fist again.

“Add another.”

“Thank you, Nami. Ah!”

He chanted commands into the phone while his own hand worked. Deeper, slower, faster. Joy spoke gibberish through the phone until she was whining for release.

“Baby,” he breathed.

“Yes?”

“Princess.”

“Oh yes,”

“Cum for me. Only me. No one else gets to see you like this, okay? Promise and you can,”

“I promise. It’s only you. Just you. I’m yours.”

“Fuck,” Nanami swore as he came onto the counter. He quickly closed his eyes, however, to hear her release. She’d wrap her thighs around his ears if he were there tasting her. Her hips would move on their own and he’d hold them down. “Don’t run from it. Keep going, baby,” he advised, his voice in a trance as he vividly imagined himself in the room with her.

She yelped but continued. Her hair would be messy, her thighs shaking, tears dropping softly. Nanami panted, whispering for her to keep going, savoring every moment until he was sure she’d worked through another orgasm and was moments away from being overstimulated if she continued.

“That’s enough,” he told her. “Taste yourself.”

“Mmm, it’s good. I’m good,” she confirmed, then chuckled softly.

“Clean them well.”

“If you were here, not a drop would be wasted.”

Nanami pulled himself together. He snatched the shitty napkin from his convenience store bag and cleaned his mess before looking for disinfectant.

“Joy,”

“Kento,” She stopped him. He perked up at the firmness of her voice. “Make me dinner tomorrow. At my apartment. And stop telling people we broke up.”

He sighed deeply, pausing from opening a container of disinfectant wipes to pinch his brow. “We did break up.”

“Is this what you call broken up? If you don’t come over, I’m never talking to you again.”

“Stop it,” he warned her, fists clenched.

The problem with Joy was that she was a little crazy. She had to be to encourage his obsessive ways the way she did.

He knew every little detail about her- how she took her coffee, her daily schedule, her measurements, her favorite restaurants. When they were out, he rarely let go of her hand and lingering eyes got a death glare. But she always knew how to reassure him.

“I’m yours, aren’t I?”

He told her about his fantasies of keeping her home all day, away from everyone. And she asked if he wanted to try tying her up in bed. He tried separating them, but when she found out he ruined three of her blind dates, she promised she’d never go again. When she wanted him to do what she wanted, she’d threaten him by saying she’d turn off the location app on her phone or she’d say she wouldn’t see him that day.

She was reckless and single-minded. And she liked him- him and his obsessive ways.

She liked that he watched out for her too much, bordering on spying at times. And that he got jealous that others looked too closely at her when they were out. She liked that he wanted to see her in his clothes and the clothes he bought her almost exclusively.

He broke up with her because she said, “You only want me to depend on you, right?” after her bought her a new phone. She was never going to save him, he realized. She would enable him until the end. He opened his phone and went on the location-sharing app he’d installed. He knew she used this on him too. That’s how she called him. Her voice brought him back to the conversation.

"I'm considering you not being here tonight one strike, okay? You don't want another one," she told him. Her voice was sweet as always but clearer, more certain. He agreed after a few moments and she cheered before telling him the kind of wine to bring before hanging up.

Nanami sat his phone on the newly clean counter and pulled out the bento from the bag. He sighed and built some resolve.

"It's just one time. I'll just see her one more time."

[the-himawari]

A3! Sakisaka Muku - Translation [SR] Bright Star of Blooming (2/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Muku: For the pose in our polaroid photo, we’re supposed to make a heart which shows our gratitude, right?

Izumi: You got it. As long as it’s a heart, you can do whatever you’d like. Feel free to make any heart you think of, Muku-kun.

Muku: Hmm, this is hard. Something too simple would be… Ah… I got it! I’m ready for the photo~

Izumi: Okay, I’m taking it. Say cheese!

*click*

Izumi: How does this look?

Muku: Thank you very much.

Muku: …Ah, that’s great. I was worried that the heart was going to block my face, but I’m glad it looks fine.

Izumi: Agreed. The placing was perfect! You look absolutely adorable.

Sakyo: I see. It’s a nice photo.

Juza: It suits you.

Muku: Ehehe. I’m happy if you say so!

*dream starts*

???: Hey, wake up. How long are you planning to sleep?

Muku: Ngh… good morning…? Ah, is this… trump’s secret hideout!? How come I’m here!?

King: Are you still half asleep? That's not surprising considering you’re a member of trump.

Muku: (Ah, I see. It sounds like I’m a member of trump then.)

King: I called you here today because there’s something I’d like you to do for me.

Muku: And what could that be?

King: I already told you we’ve chosen our next target, didn’t I?

Muku: (Huh? Did he…?) S-Sure…

King: When the moment comes, I need you to distract the police outside at the same time we make our escape from the vault.

Muku: How do I distract them…?

King: Become a decoy.

Muku: A decoy!? I-I’m not sure I’ll be able to pull that off…!?

King: I have no doubt you'll be able to escape since you’re fast on your feet. Well, even if you do get caught in the worst case scenario, we’ll come rescue you. Don’t fret.

Muku: That’s King for you! You’re so cool…! I can’t help but admire you…

King: Oh, please. No need for that. Make sure you double check your escape route so you'll be able to evade the cops.

Muku: Yes, for sure! I’ll do my best as the decoy!

*dream ends*

Muku: …!

Juza: Hm? Are you awake?

Muku: Huh? Where’s King!?

Juza: King…?

Muku: (Ahh. That was a dream just now…)

Juza: What’s wrong? Did you have a dream or somethin’?

Muku: I did… I dreamt I became a member of trump.

Juza: You did?

Muku: Yeah. Since I run fast, I was told to become a decoy to distract the police.

Juza: I agree you’re fast, but that still sounds way too dangerous. Were you okay?

Muku: Yep. I woke up before I had to do it. Thanks for worrying about me even though it was a dream, Ju-chan.

Juza: Err, sorry ‘bout that. It was just a dream 'n all.

Muku: Oh, no. I’m glad you were worried about me. But I wonder why I had that sort of dream?

Juza: I mean, we had your screenin’ party, plus you fell asleep while watching a movie about a phantom thief.

Muku: (Ah, that’s right. I was watching a movie about a phantom thief with Ju-chan.) Oh no, is the movie finished?

Juza: Yeah. It’s over already.

Muku: I’m so sorry. I was the one who asked you to watch the movie, yet I fell asleep halfway through.

Juza: Nah, it’s fine. I’m sure you were tired. It was tough since today was so packed. Let’s watch it again another time.

Muku: Huh? But you watched it the whole way through, didn’t you?

Juza: I did, but I missed some of the supporting characters' movements. I think it’d be fun watchin' it one more time.

Muku: I see. Thank you. I’ll make sure I stay awake until the very end next time, so let’s watch it together.

---

previous |

[muirneach]

allow me to get yaoiful about the canadian tennis curse real quick. anyways. possible correlation between the downfall of denis’ career and whatever messy breakup he and felix had. when was the last time we had proof of them being besties. back when denis was doing well. coincidence?? also, what even happened there. because felix in those atp youtube videos always says ‘MY GOOD FRIEND denis shapovalov’ etc etc. he always always says my good friend. even like a month ago or whenever the last time he was in atp video was. but then, denis does not give him the time of day it seems. like what is that about. anyways, if they played doubles together again (rogers cup pleaseeee for the home crowd 🙏) i think denis would be back on the rise. and post

[shorthaltsjester]

watching the sdcc panel and i am just very :) about how sweet their answers to “what are some of the micro moments from the game that have stuck with you the most over the years?” are. taliesin saying what the fuck is up with that which was the first like The Party Gets To Know Each Other moments of c3. travis saying asking his wife if he could kiss her in campaign. marisha going way back to the cannonball competition in campaign one. ashley choosing the beauyasha date but also just the silly goat noise matt made. liam adding onto that to compliment matt roleplaying grass so well and then saying his favourite moment was writing a story for laura and reading it to her as caleb for jester. and then matt saying that was his answer, and that his favourite moments of the game are when they find ways to give gifts to each other whether tangible or not. and sam saying his favourite moments have less to do with the story and is more so when he can just. see his friends across the table from him. when marisha perches and when laura and ashley are (badly) drawing dicks and liam saying he loves when sam sneezes and ashley tells him to stop it and just. yeah. they Are an extremely popular online powerhouse, but i’m so happy that they’re also friends building a world together out of gifts to and love for one another.

like i Am so enamoured with the characters and the world of exandria but the moments when you can feel the love that those people have for each other reach out from behind the stained glass of their performances (to steal a metaphor from brennan lee mulligan) are so extremely special and i am endlessly grateful that they decided to share their silly little home game with the world.

[stiffyck]

Okay what if the winners got to meet previous versions of themselves through the life games.

Like grian meets no one. He didn't have any previous "versions".

Scott meets 3rd life Scott.

Pearl meets 3rd life and last life pearl.

Martyn meets 3rd life, last life and double life Martyn.

Scar meets 3rd life, last life, double life and lim life him-

This whole thing was an idea that I got just because I was thinking about ll and sl scar because they were both so lonely like wtf and I just though about a scene that would be so. Grips chair.

Ll: "We won?"

Sl: "Yeah"

Ll: "Did we have allies? Friends?"

Ll scar probably thinks sl scar won only because he had allies to support him. He knows what its like being lonely and he hopes no one has to go through that loneliness. And he wants to be optimistic for once that sl scar, future him, gets allies, gets friends.

He tries to hope and then he sees the look on sl scars face. Or maybe sl scar tries to lie- maybe he tries to say they had allies.

Ll scar sees right through him. He's him after all. Maybe he's always gonna he lonely anyway

[itsnobodysproblem]

Most Sherlock Holmes adaptations I've seen tend to place their Final Problem towards the mid point of the series (or even a bit earlier) - it's also in my opinion the best way of going about it, so you have time enough for the characters to adjust after the reunion but they know each other well enough for the events of Fina to be devastating.

Sherlock & Co is done with 20 of the adventures. How many are there? Fifty-something? Almost sixty? Let's say we'll be entering mid-point territory after the 25th story.

So let's pretend for a moment that we have 5 more stories until The Final Problem. Ok.

Estimating an adventure at 3 episodes each, that would mean little over 3 months - maybe 3 and a half? Starting, of course, from the end of Sign of Four, which will be somewhere in December.

So let's say 3, maybe 4 months into 2025. That would be, what? Late march, early april?

Early april?

John having to tell the listeners that Sherlock is dead, in early april?

Quick calendar search reveals what I was praying it would - the 1st of april will be on a Tuesday next year.

So what I'm saying

What I'm saying is Sherlock &Co has the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing

[6-epigraphs]

Have we ever seen this old man being affectionate with drivers or other juniors? Or just Yuki? I don't even think I've seen him this close to Max and Seb (off the podium at least)

Brother.

[sylvhen]

just having a normal one thinking about how badly Armand wants to be loved but every time he gets close to it, he self sabotages and ruins it. almost as if. he subconsciously doesn't think he deserves it.