#but then realized a) it’s my blog and b) no one reads this far into the tags anyways lol

[strawberri-draws]

Some dream Halloween costumes because I don’t have one this year </3

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes��

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Two

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: M (no explicit smut but my blog is always 18+ ONLY, just one steamy makeout but the smut show begins next chapter so strap in 😎 as always, i cannot force myself to reread my own writing so this isn’t proofread)

word count: 4.9k

series masterlist | joel masterlist | joel playlist

It was Saturday afternoon, your book club meeting nearly wrapped for the day. You were delighted to see Sarah’s face, half-expecting both her and her father to forget about the meeting, but she was one of the first ones here.

Joel greeted you with a shy wave and a smile as he walked her into the small room in the corner of the library, his grey t-shirt and jeans fitting him far too well.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, both of your eyes trailing away to watch Sarah make a bee-line for the snack table. “That’s my fault, I forgot to make a grocery run.”

“That’s what they’re there for,” you waved off his worry and fixed your eyes on his again.

“I, uh, tried to keep up,” he held up his copy of Sense and Sensibility, surprising you with how far into the book his bookmark rested, not quite where the rest of you were but not too far off. “I don’t know about that Willoughby guy…somethin’ seems off.”

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled, shifting your weight onto one hip and crossing your arms over your chest as you eagerly waited his assessment. Joel cracked a charming half smirk and nodded confidently.

“Yeah. No man is that perfect.” You snorted a laugh and eagerly agreed. “So I got it, then? He’s a bad guy?”

“No comment,” you replied with an untamable grin, something about his presence filling you with a girlish giddiness you hadn’t felt in years.

“Sarah!” Sarah’s new friend, Jessie, squealed when she entered the classroom and spotted her, causing both you and Joel to look over with proud smiles.

“This was a good idea,” Joel turned back to you. “Hadn’t realized how sheltered she was. It’s nice to see her have a friend.”

“We all deserve friends,” you noted.

“You know, if you ever need a friend…I’m right here,” he offered with a shrug, busying his eyes by looking down at the book he was holding.

“Would Sarah be okay with her dad and teacher being friends?” you asked, Sarah’s well-being your ultimate responsibility and priority over whatever you happened to be feeling for her father.

“Yeah, we, uh, talked about it…I may have made a comment about how pretty you are,” he chuckled in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “And she’s been teasin’ me about it since.”

“Pretty, huh?” you smirked and relished in the blush you brought to his face, his eyes rolling as a husky chuckle slipped from his lips. “Well, Joel, if I ever need a friend, how can I go about getting in touch with you?”

“Right,” he nodded, frantically reaching into his pocket to pull out his flip phone, your lip caught between your teeth as you watched him struggle to find his phone number—of course he didn’t know it by heart. “Alright, you ready?”

You clicked your pen and pulled out your post-it note/bookmark, jotting down his number as he read it out to you.

“Are we gonna start or what?” Harriet snapped from her wheelchair, making both you and Joel laugh.

“I’ll be back to pick Sarah up at eleven,” he tapped his book with yours before walking out of the room, only stopping to place a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before disappearing, leaving your heart longing for more.

Taking a deep, necessary breath, you turned to the group and smiled. “Alright, how far did everybody get this week?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at your phone so goddamn much since you got the damn thing,” Tommy teased his older brother as they walked around their favorite H-E-B supermarket, Joel determined to surprise Sarah with a fully stocked fridge and pantry for once.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled as he swore he felt a buzz in his pocket, tugging his flip phone out for the twentieth time since stepping inside the store, hoping to see a message or an incoming call from you.

“That the plummer for the project on 15th Street?” Tommy asked as he loaded a case of Gatorade into the bottom of the cart.

“No, it’s, uh—“ Joel was nervous, having gone so long without having a romantic life that he started to feel like a teenager again, too embarrassed by the weight of his crush to tell anybody. “Sarah’s at her book club so I’m just makin’ sure I don’t miss her call if she needs me to pick her up early.”

“And her ‘pretty’ teacher ain’t got nothin’ to do with that?” Tommy teased with a grin, amused by the look of betrayal and embarrassment on his older brother’s face.

“Sarah told ya, huh?”

“Yep,” Tommy laughed and took over pushing the cart. “You ask her out yet?”

“Not yet,” Joel sighed, the idea of going on a first date at his stage in life seeming ridiculous. What would they even do? Go to a movie? Go out to dinner? It all seemed too…cliche. “What do people even do for dates anymore?”

“Take her to Lady Bird Lake or a museum or somethin’. She’s a teacher, she’ll be into all that,” Tommy suggested. Joel nodded at the advice, making a mental note of it before being interrupted by the first actual ring of his phone all morning.

“Hello?” Joel answered the unsaved number with a hopeful heart.

“Joel?” your voice responded, bringing a smile to his face.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding more like himself. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chirped, but he could tell there was something you were holding back.

“Sarah’s okay, right?”

“Yes! Sarah’s alright, she’s waiting here with me—“Joel heard his daughter greet him in the background. “The meeting ended a bit early, and I was trying to start my car, but it looks like I have a dead battery. Is there anyway I could get a jumpstart?”

“Oh—yeah,” he mouthed to Tommy that they needed to go checkout, Tommy pushing the cart towards the registers without needing any further instruction. “We’re just checkin’ out at H-E-B, but I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Sounds good, thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for,” he hoped his attempt at playfulness didn’t fall flat, and judging by your chuckle, it hadn’t.

“That and lots of other things.” Joel’s heart sped up as he contemplated the other things. “See ya in a bit.”

“So,” Sarah started as she sat beside you in your well-used Ford Focus, the two of you reading as you waited for Joel to arrive. “You married?”

You laughed at her bluntness, looking over at her only to see her deadpanning. “No, I’m not married. Not anything.”

“Why not?” You laughed again, this time incredulously.

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, making you shrug and giggle again as you tossed your hands up. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the men I go after.”

“Like my dad?” You blushed and turned back to your book, finally pulling a laugh from the girl much wider than her years. “I think it would be cool if you two started to go out.”

“What makes you think we want to go out?” you challenged with a smirk, trying and failing to erase it from your face.

“I haven’t seen my dad try this hard since…well, ever,” she chuckled. “And both of you always have this stupid smile on your face after you see eachother. I’d say that’s a pretty big tell.”

“You’re too observant for your own good,” you noted as you felt your cheeks creep with heat, embarrassed that she’d caught you.

A few quick honks cut off the conversation, both of you stepping out of the hot car to greet Joel as he and another man pulled up in front of where you were parked. Joel climbed out of the passenger seat with a smile, striding over to both of you with two water bottles in hand, giving you each one.

“Drink up, it’s hot as hell today,” he commanded and both of you obeyed.

“Hey,” his companion stepped out of the drivers side and joined the three of you, giving you a nod. “I’m Tommy, Sarah’s uncle.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” you held your hand out for him to shake and he grinned mischievously.

“Likewise.” Your cheeks heated again despite the cold water bottle cooling you down.

“Mind if I pop the hood?” Joel pointed at your car, your head eagerly nodding in response. You watched him closely as he walked over to the drivers side, bending down to find the hood release. His shirt stretched over the broadness of his back, a line of sweat darkening the gray fabric down his spine. With a sudden thirst, you took a healthy chug of your water, hoping it would soothe the fire burning inside of you.

“Thank you guys,” you started as you turned to Tommy, needing to distract yourself from Joel.

“It’s no problem,” Tommy assured, his arm draped around Sarah’s shoulder. “How was, uh, book club?”

“Oh!” Sarah chimed, earning a furrowed brow look from her father as he walked over to the bed of the truck to grab some jumper cables. “Can I go over to Jessie’s house tonight? She’s having a sleepover—“

“I don’t know,” Joel exhaled as he returned. “I need to talk to her parents first.”

“I have their number,” you offered, pulling your phone out of your purse. “If you want it.”

“Sure,” he gave you a tired smile and trailed his eyes over your form properly for the first time since he arrived. Your hair that was once freely falling had now been put up, the sweat on the back of your neck causing your hair to stick to your skin in a way that bugged you. Your makeup was probably well into oily territory, your mascara smudged the last time you checked it in the car’s rearview mirror. The only thing half-presentable about you was the sundress you were wearing, it’s floral, cotton fabric flowing in the warm April breeze. “Uh,” he caught himself staring and quickly turned his gaze back to his daughter as he fished out his cellphone. “Here—you can type it in.”

After giving Sarah the phone number, she and Tommy retired back to the cool a/c in his truck, leaving you and Joel alone. An irresponsible thing for the two of you to be.

“Care to show me how it’s done,” you asked, unable to stop yourself from wanting more from him—more attention, more of his voice, more…everything. Being around him made you feel like you were burning alive, and yet strangely enough, the only time relief came to you was when you got closer to him.

“No one ever taught you how to jumpstart a car?” he teased with a smile, glancing over at you as he clamped the metal prongs onto the negative and positive sides.

“Not really,” you chuckled, pointing at the opposite colors. “So black goes on negative and red goes on positive?”

“Yep,” he nodded before pointing at the inside of the car. “Go on and try to start it up.”

“Just start it?” you asked, worried about messing up.

“Yep, like you normally do,” he encouraged you with a smile, watching you as you sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Both of you gasped at the sight and sound of your battery sparking and then smoking. “Shit.” He walked over to the now ruined battery and investigated as you came out to join him. “Wasn’t your fault, my cords must be fucked or somethin’. I’m sorry—just ruined your battery.” He sighed and gave you an apologetic look, but you were quick to brush it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you placed your hand on his arm and watched as his head turned to look at the contact before locking his eyes with yours. You fought the urge to worship his biceps like your celibate and cavewoman-like hormones were urging you to and pulled your hand away. “I’ll just call a tow truck and have them tow me to an auto-shop.”

“They’ll take you for all you got.” He shook his head and gestured back at the truck. “We can take ya to go get a new battery for almost free.”

“Almost?” you chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, the only payment I ask for is maybe…a date?” He gave you a bashful but hopeful smile as he tucked his hands in his front pockets. “Maybe tonight?”

You stared at him with a widening grin, pleasantly surprised by his proposition. You hadn’t thought he’d make the first move, at least not this soon. Throwing caution to the wind, you nodded, your stomach fluttering as you watched him sigh in relief.

“Alright, well, let’s work on gettin’ you a new battery and go from there.” Joel waited for you as you locked your car up and joined him again, following him over to the backseat of his truck. He opened the door for you, giving you that warm smile that was beginning to feel like a drug as you climbed in beside Sarah.

Joel remained outside as he unhooked the cables from their working battery to your dead one, shutting the hood of the truck with a firm slam. He ungracefully hopped into the passenger seat, looking over at his brother.

“Take us down to the Autozone,” he ordered, Tommy glancing back at you with a raised brow and smile as he waited for his brother to use his manners. Joel sighed, “Please.”

“That’s better.”

It took under an hour to go get your new battery, bring it back to your car, and have Joel install it. As he bid you goodbye, he let you know he’d give you a call once he figures out a time for your date tonight, and you couldn’t help but beam with excitement.

The entire rest of the afternoon was spent going through your closet, taking the longest shower of your life, and fussing with your hair, wanting to be ready if Joel chose to be last minute with your plans—which normally would thoroughly turn you off, but you were weak when it came to Joel.

Thankfully, Joel called at three, asking if you’d like to join him for a walk at Lady Bird Lake. You eagerly accepted the offer, mildly surprised by the unconventional choice in date but not disappointed with it.

As you sat in the living room, you heard a car approach your house and moved to peek through your window, the same dark pick-up truck from earlier rolling into your driveway. You grinned as you watched him hop out of the drivers seat, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He looked so masculine and broad, but there was something in the warmth of his smile, the deepness of his eyes, that showed he was soft, too.

Quickly heading to your front door, you opened it before he could knock, his look of surprise when you swung the door open turning into a smile as he took you in—a sage green wrap dress that fell between your ankles and knees, your makeup soft and complimentary, your smile knee-weakening.

“You look so pretty,” he complimented softly, as though you weren’t meant to hear it. “Uh, got these for you.”

Joel handed you a bouquet of yellow daisies and you gave him a touched frown, kissing your teeth as you pressed the petals to your nose.

“This is very sweet,” you gave him a smitten grin and gestured back into your house. “Let me just go put these in some water. You’re welcome to come in.”

“Alright,” he followed you into your house and down the hall to your kitchen, his eyes scanning the scene as though your home would reveal some hidden secret about you. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks,” you replied as you filled a vase with water at the sink. “I found it for a really good price last summer, and now the owner’s gonna sell it to me.”

“Take it you like Austin then. You from around here?” He asked, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Nope,” you continued to tell him where you were from. “But I do love it here. Besides, I’m getting older. Seems like a good investment.”

“Old,” he repeated with a smirk. “You ain’t nowhere near old. Me on the other hand—“

“You’re what, mid-thirties?”

“33,” he corrected. “But my body is pushin’ seventy.”

“You haven’t heard the way my bones crack when I get up every morning,” you joked, earning a laugh.

“We’ll just have to be gentle with each other, then,” Joel quipped, not taking much time to think before he spoke. He internally cringed at the way you looked away and chuckled awkwardly, scolding himself for his stupid joke.

“Hopefully not too gently.” You shot him a wink and every worry of his faded into oblivion. “Alright, then, shall we?”

“Yeah,” Joel swallowed his desire and walked you out to the truck, helping you into your side before seating himself. “You ever been to the lake?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Is it pretty out there?”

“It’s pretty, but you’re gonna give it a run for it’s money in that dress,” he flirted, shooting you a glance and a peek at the smile he was wearing proudly. Your cheeks turned hot at his compliment and you rolled your eyes, grinning like a lovesick teenager.

“You’re a flirt,” you pointed out.

“Me?” He laughed. “I haven’t flirted in…shit, I don’t know how long it’s been.”

“Well, you’re a natural, then,” you nudged his arm with your elbow and felt dizzy by the sparks shooting through your nerves by the simple contact.

“Sarah gave me a run down of things I should and shouldn’t do tonight,” he filled you in.

“Oh yeah? What are the do’s?” you implored with an amused smile, watching his profile as he drove.

“Pay, open doors, and ask questions,” he replied.

“And dont’s?” Joel chuckled and shook his head.

“She said I’m not supposed to kiss you until the second date.” You scoffed and waved that thought away. “You disagree?”

“Strongly,” you answered him with a laugh, Joel laughing along with you.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He shot you a wink and you felt like your heart was being shocked back to life. “I haven’t been on a date in so long. You gotta let me know if I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“You’re doing just fine, trust me,” you assured. “I can’t tell you the amount of shitty dates I’ve gone on, so the bar isn’t very high for you tonight.”

“Well, that’s sad,” he chuckled and shot you a lingering look as he stopped at a red light. “Hopefully I can break this streak of shitty dates.”

“I think you’ve already done it,” you laughed. “I mean, I can’t think of a first date that sacrificed hours of his life to replace my car battery on a Saturday afternoon.”

“You’re right, I’m setting the bar high,” he chuckled and shrugged. “Gonna have to change your oil next time just to keep up my reputation, then for the third date maybe rotate your tires—“

“Are these euphemisms?” you asked with mischief in your smile, not knowing the way you made his heart speed up with it.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted with a smile, his cheeks flushed pink. When he turned to look at you, he saw a bitten smirk, his head shaking. “That amuse you?”

“A little,” you nodded.

“Callin’ me a flirt,” he shook his head in mock scolding. “Look at you.”

After your leisurely walk in the park—the green of the grass and array of colors from the flowers and butterflies swarming in the air just as beautiful as Joel attempted to describe it on the way over—you and Joel found yourselves outside of an ice cream shop, sharing a chocolate and strawberry sundae.

“How are you not terrified every day? I only have Sarah to look out for and I can hardly manage, I can’t imagine a class full of ‘em,” Joel spoke, watching you as you spooned the last bit of the ice cream into your mouth.

“It’s scary at first, but then you develop this sort of bond with them—it just happens naturally, and it makes you feel responsible for them. You know? It’s just like…I feel a responsibility to show them some peace and understanding, because who knows what they have going on at home. I show up for them because I might be the only person that’s doing that, you know?” You shrugged, trying not to read into the way he was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, his posture relaxed as he sat back in the metal patio chair. “You gotta stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He chuckled, amused by your fluster.

“Like that.” You gestured at his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing, giving me those pretty brown eyes—“

Joel’s laugh cut you off, his head shaking. “I’m just listening to you talk, I have no control over my pretty brown eyes.”

“Mmhm,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

“I, uh—Sarah’s away tonight. If you wanted to come over—“ Joel watched as you lifted an eyebrow. “Not for that—well, I mean—but I just meant to continue talking. We have a pool—“

“Why didn’t you start with that?” You stood upright and snapped your fingers at him, earning a grin. “Chop, chop, Mr. Miller.”

Joel made a pit stop at your place so that you could change into a swimsuit, throwing your dress back on over it before hurrying back out to the truck. Once inside his house, you found yourself studying the scene much like he had earlier at yours. It felt almost unreal to be in his space, the intimacy of walking the same halls he walked every morning and night turning you drunk.

“Pools out back, I’m gonna grab us some beers.” You nodded at him as he broke off towards the kitchen while you kept forward towards the sliding glass door to his patio.

Pulling the door open, you were surprised to see a rather nice little backyard set up. He draped yellow string lantern lights in zig zags from fence to fence, illuminating the pool and patio table.

“Here you go,” Joel appeared from behind you, handing you a beer before walking over to the table and taking a seat. You joined him, giving him an expectant but playful smirk as you entered a staring match. “What’s got you smilin’ like that?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, turning your grin towards the pool. “I’m just having a good time.”

Joel’s chest swole with pride at your confession.

“You wanna get in? It’s heated.” You gave him an impressed up and down, making him chuckle.

“Fancy,” you teased as you stood up, avoiding his eyes as your hands found the knot holding your wrap dress together. Before you could move to untie the knot, Joel’s hands rested over yours, his body now standing tall in front of you. Your eyes shot up to meet his and your breath faltered, his lips just a few inches away.

“May I?” Joel asked for permission as he replaced your fingers on the knot with his own. You gave him a quick nod, your lips parting as you waited with bated breath for him to undress you. Joel slipped the knot undone, the dress falling open. His eyes traveled from your face down the front of your body as he slid the dress off your shoulders, leaving you in just your swimsuit. His hands were quick to touch your skin, a soft gasp spilling from your lips at the fire his skin on yours caused. “You’re too beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” you praised, lifting your hand to cup his bearded cheek. Joel’s lips curled up at the sound of your compliment, his hands giving your waist a squeeze. “Remember that rule we talked about breaking earlier?”

“Uh-huh,” Joel nodded, leaning in to fill the gap between your lips until he was crashing into you, your fingers threading into his hair as you accepted the attack. Joel moaned as you tugged on his hair, walking you back against the table and hoisting you onto the metal. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, earning a growl of desperation as he licked and sucked his way down to your neck, fighting the urge to leave his mark on you.

“Hey, neighbor?” Joel’s older neighbor called from over the fence, interrupted their heated makeout. He sighed and rested his forehead on your shoulder as he tried to gather his composure enough to form a response.

“Yep?” Joel called back.

“Your girl’s locked out, just came knockin’ on our door.” Joel’s brows furrowed and he immediately straightened up, his eyes apologetic as he handed you your dress.

“Thanks,” he called back before placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” you assured as you tied your dress, the throbbing between your thighs persistent but the sound of him calling you baby was a more-than sufficient distraction, filling your stomach with butterflies.

You sat back down at the table and waited until Joel came back out, your fingers drawing hearts on the dust covering the table. When you caught yourself, you scoffed, disgusted by the cutesy feelings filling you to the brim, and wiped the table with your palm. Walking over to the edge of the pool, you rinsed the dust off and listened as the glass door slid open.

“Hey,” Sarah greeted, her voice nearly making you fall into the water as you weren’t expecting it. “How was the date?”

You stood up and chuckled, ignoring her question by changing the subject. “How was it at Jessie’s?”

“It was good, just didn’t want to spend the night,” she informed as she sat on one of the patio chairs, swinging her feet.

“Where’s your dad?” You weren’t sure what to say to her and desperately wanted Joel to come out to help carry the burden of this awkward tension.

“Using the bathro—“

“Nope,” he interrupted as he stepped outside, mouthing an apology to you as he walked over to her and kissed her head. “Can you go inside for a second?”

“Sure thing,” Sarah gave you a knowing smile as she left the two of you alone, closing the glass door behind her.

“Sorry,” he stepped to you, placing his hands on either side of you face. “Don’t think we’re gonna get to continue that tonight.”

“It’s alright,” you rubbed his chest.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, eyes full of reverence as he looked at you.

“Whenever,” you shrugged, pinching his chin. “I’m free after five every night.”

“I’ll try to talk Tommy into babysitting on Friday.” You grinned at his suggestion and nodded your head. “Lemme grab Sarah and we’ll drive you home.”

“Wait—“ You stopped him before he could get too far, tugging him down for a deep kiss, his arms wrapping around you and squeezing you so tight that you hoped it would last all week until you saw him next, but the minute he let go of you, you already missed him. “One more kiss.”

“One more,” he repeated as he kissed you again, slow, deep, and lingering, the two of you procrastinating. Finally, you gathered the will to pull away, chuckling at your breathlessness. “Alright, if we don’t stop now, I’m just gonna keep on torturin’ myself.”

“Not into that?” you quipped seductively, tilting your head at him as you tucked your hands into the back pockets of his jeans to pull him closer. Joel chuckled and shook his head at you as though you were testing every ounce of his strength.

“I’m gonna have my hands full with you, aren’t I?” he husked, leaning back in to place a feather-light kiss to your lips as you responded with a grin.

“Your hands are already pretty full, wouldn’t you say?” Joel laughed against you and gave your ass a squeeze, his palms having already been firmly planted there.

“Oh, I like you,” Joel hummed, pecking your lips once more before pulling away. “Here,” Joel handed you his keys before pinching your chin. “Start the truck up and I’ll go get Sarah.”

“Sure thing,” you beamed as you watched him start towards the house, stopping him once more with your voice. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too.” You and Joel stood there lovestruck, a chuckle slipping from his lips as he struggled to find the strength to take you back home, not ready for the night to be over. But knowing that the best things come to those who wait, Joel took a breath of patience and smiled.

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi Ice! This one is maybe a little on the outskirts of 'creating Black characters', but it is related to the introspective questions you posted a little while back, so I thought I'd ask for your opinion. I'm sure this isn't an one-easy-answer thing, so I'd love to hear from any other Black people reading this as well!

I'll try to keep it short.

I'm seven years and 300k+ words deep in a fanfiction about anthropomorphic animal characters, and your introspective questions made me face the fact that I've been the ignorant fandom racist. I wrote my main character as white. Now, 7 years later, I stumble over a post pointing out ... those are locs

I don't know if the authors intended for this character to be Black (nonblack voice actors, supplementary material also clearly doesn't draw him this way, though that stuff was all over the place re: consistency) and I frankly also am not sure if they Should have, given his role in the narrative, but a) that's not really up to me to speak on and b) he's got locs and mostly black fur and was inspired by Anubis. I've been whitewashing, there's no way around it.

I briefly considered going back and just straight up changing the story to make him Black, but I quickly realized that I have been writing him from a white-centered narrative and just slotting a Black character into that would arguably be Worse. Or at least racist in a brand new way. I can change how he takes care of his hair, but not the themes on which the entire narrative is built upon. I've been writing about a white man and I can't just pretend I haven't.

So my question to you is ... what now? How do I best acknowledge this? Do I just quietly come to terms with the fact that this story is racist and do better next time? I would like to acknowledge it in some way, I have a small but loyal audience and if I could use that platform to start a conversation (or just put out a 'hey, don't be like me') that would ... maybe at least be better than nothing? Possibly?

I know there's not a simple solution here that will Fix It, but I thought I'd ask an actual Black person who's open to educating what might be a good next move. Maybe avoid making another, new White Person Blunder. Here's to hoping.

I really appreciate all you do, your blog rocks and so do you.

Is that Shadow?

Okay, so I had to have a conversation with Hot Chocolate on this one because this one's a doozy! I appreciate that you're willing to stop and reflect though. Most people wouldn't be willing to do so this far in!

Admittedly, the fact that you're seven years into this means this will require a lot of effort. And, tbh, I might be confused bc I cannot tell what that character is 😅 So! After some thought, here's what we came up with:

Take a hiatus. Point blank period. Take a BREAK, do not pass go, do not collect $200! Idk what lore you've written, but you've written a lot of it. Take as long as you need to reread your works, and see if at any point you ever made it clear that this was a white person, or anything other than the Black character you now think they should be. If it feels undefined, where you can turn "hair" into "locs" or add in small details, then that could be your smooth way out. It doesn't have to be massive changes, but it could help. It'll take you time, for sure! But you dug seven years in, it's gone take you time to dig out. Maybe if you skim 15k words a week (or ctrl-F it for hair, for examples), that's... 20 weeks? Go at your own pace, faster or slower.

Unfortunately this happens a lot, where influences for characters will be taken from cultures of colors and improperly represented (the "African" god from Genshin). That's just a fact. So I don't necessarily blame you for the confusion, but... Now you know.

If possible, get a sensitivity reader! Preferably a Black one. Ngl, given the massive amount of work, you're likely going to have to pay them. Maybe give them half and you take half. Idk, but let another pair of eyes look at your work. Or maybe there's a Black reader that you could speak to and see how they feel about the potential change.

Should you choose to keep going, just try to be more purposeful and intentional about that character's Blackness. Definitely tell your readers what you figured out, why it's important to you, and then move forward from there.

Now, RECOGNIZE that many of them will NOT be pleased! That's kind of the thing about opening your eyes when it comes to racism in media! A lot of people will NOT be happy that you decided to be more intentional, especially if they've been imagining their favorite white guy for seven years. You're going to have to weigh your integrity and your will to create against that. People might leave, people that you thought were cool AF until it was time to show true colors. Be ready for that.

But that's just what I would do 🤷🏾‍♀️

[writers-potion]

Library Romance: Prompts for Writing

person A paying person B's late book return penalty because person B has spent all their money on books already.

hanging out between the shelves separately, but never getting too far they're sharing a pair of airpods.

rearranging books to write sentences for each other using book titles.

sabotaging each other's physical tbr whenever the other goes for a bathroom break

being the only ones left in the library late at night

characters are about to leave, but it's storming outside so they show each other their favorite books instead.

they want to read the same book at once and neither are willing to back down. eventually, they start reading it together, throwing dirty looks when one flips a page too fast.

messaging each other their favorite quotes as they read.

holding hands throughout an intense study session without saying a word to each other.

person a keeps peeking at person B's perfectly organized notes. person B starts studying the same subject as person A so that person A can "secretly" copy.

naturally reaching for each other's coffee as they blaze through a 5-hour reading session.

person A hides the last copy of person B's favorite book. now person B needs to do person a a favor to get it.

telling each other where they are using the dewey decimal system. they have the library memorized.

sharing snacks under the table, fingers touching, making eye contact when the other makes too much noise.

holding a conversation through written notes.

they randomly get grouped together for a project; when they meet up at the library for the first time, they realize they've been sitting next to each other for hours already.

person A reaching for a book person B also wants and now holding an intence staring battle in between shelves.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee! ☕

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🧡🐱🍊

Credit goes to my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

🧡 Libra Chiron and Chiron in the 7th house native can often attract a partner with a “man child” behaviour. They might go that far to give nickname to their partner, such as “mamma”, “daddy”, “mamacita” etc.

🍊 Saturn in the 7th house people can divorce around the same age as their parents age were when they got a divorce. This native can disconnect emotionally from their partner around the age their parents divorced.

🐱 Why Sun in the 12th house often comes across as a victim is often, because they change the narrative. They present one story and later they change it or present another aspect of it, which people don’t end up accepting and would often accuse the person of trying to portray themselves as a victim.

🧡 Gemini IC or Gemini over the 4th house native: some of your family members tend to have allergies

🍊Libra Moon men inherently have a knack for what women like in partnerships and how they enjoy being seduced. They just have this natural knowing and instinct. They also think that they seem to prefer big romantic gestures (such as picnic) over gifts.

🐱 Saturn over the 2nd house transit: in the middle of the transit you might realize that money and financial stability doesn’t buy you happiness, emotional stability, confidence, optimistic outlook or status.

🧡 Cancer Venus loves the idea of marrying their first crush. Or someone they have known since teenage years or their whole life.

🍊 Capricorn Jupiter ends up marrying someone older than them. Or a bit younger, but often older. Similar Aquarius Jupiter, either someone a lot older or someone younger. Meanwhile, Libra Jupiter often marries someone with the same age, their peer, because they like an equal partner. Gemini Jupiter ends up marrying someone with whom they have 2-3 years age difference.

🐱 Pisces Venus really enjoys reviewing red carpet looks, fashion choices and outfits. They also really like to discuss fashion and they sometimes idealize it. They share this with Taurus Venus as well.

🧡Aries Moons love dance soo much. Even if they just broke up with someone, failed an exam, broke off an engagement, they are like... at least I can still have dance and have fun. They really express their emotion through dancing.

🍊Celebrities who have Libra MC are often known for their perfume. Such as Gabrielle Coco Chanel and perfume Chanel No. 5, which remains one of the best known perfumes of all time around the world.

🐱Taurus Venus women often face remarks of other people about their body, I would say even more so if the woman also has Taurus, Libra or Aries Moon and Scorpio Rising or Rising at a Scorpio degree. Much like in the case of Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez.

🧡 People who have Gemini Moon or Gemini IC: your parents might often criticize your partner.

🍊Virgo MC often perfects their craft to the last detail. Their clothes are really carefully chosen and curated when younger just to have nurture this image of being flawless. But with age, they tend to dress down, show themselves just as their are. Often they grow to understand that what their identity is and who they are (Pisces IC) is already enough on its own. That they don't need to be perfectly dress or put on a performance without any mistakes. Celebrity examples would be Kim Kardashian, who dresses down with age and likes to present herself in a more "natural" light. Also Justin Bieber, who used to plan out all of his performances with perfect dances and clothing. All was well curated for the audience and the public.

🐱Also, when you have Virgo Midheaven you are more likely to SELL something. Like your own perfumes, bracelets, tarot readings, astrology chart readings, your own music, clothing etc. Even if you are working as a waiter since Virgo is related to service, you are selling drinks and food in the end.

🧡 People with Libra MC or Libra over the 10th house might get accused of having a job or a career only because of their spouse or partner. Like "Kanye made Kim" who has Libra over the 10th house. These people can also end up working for their spouse's business.

🍊Composite Pisces Mars or Mars at a Pisces degree (12, 24) can often cause delays in who one person sees things and when the other learns about them. You might write them a love letter or decide to tell them your feelings months in advance. But they don't really know about your intentions and might hear things for the first time much later than you. Or you might plan a birthday surprise months in advance, but your person might only learn about it much later. Or they mention something they like that you have already bought them or plan to give them.

Credit goes to my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

[five-oh-thirst]

In Your Head

Pairing: Fox/Thorn

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Tags & Warnings: 18+, character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.4k

Notes: So, this is a fic I wrote on my non-cloneshipping blog, and I repurposed it into a cloneship fic. All that I ask is that you please don't go looking for the original. I want to keep my two identities a secret. Thank you in advance 💙🫶💙

Read on AO3

Music Vibe:

Fox sat hunched over his desk and anxiously rapped his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He'd read the report five times now and each pass yielded the same results. His CC number was littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember any of it.

He looked up at the chronometer again and shook his head. Time had moved, but he hadn't. He'd been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report stated otherwise.

It wasn't just the strange lost time that concerned Fox either, or the fact that his CC number was in a report. That was normal. What bothered him about this report was the fact that it clearly stated in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone.

And no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't remember it. He hadn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp put the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox rapped his stylus faster and tapped his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he?

The Coruscant Guard had stunned countless rowdy reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even 'bad' clones deserved to explain their actions, but those were few and far between.

It must've been a mistake–a typo. There had to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number was in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he had this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not have been a mistake.

The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company–one of Rex's men. Fox had sent a simple comm message to Rex offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worried him. It wasn't like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox dropped the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaked when he leaned back. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and brushed the damp curls out of his eyes. It must have been a mistake. There was no other explanation.

He didn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must've been a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he didn't get the best sleep. His caf was cold, so obviously time had passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dinged and Fox leaned forward to see what the notification was for. He sighed and tapped on the icon to open it, and his brows furrowed as he read the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident was now available and had been attached to the report.

Fox huffed. This should clear up everything. He tapped the icon to play the recording and watched intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'd have a stern talking to later on… but it wasn't.

Fox's breath hitched and his eyes widened. That wasn't some random corrie. That was him. That was his armor. He had the fleeting thought that someone had stolen his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realized he was still wearing it. He hadn't taken it off since he put it on that morning.

Panic rose in his gut and he continued to watch the recording. He flinched at the moment he pulled the trigger–a blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explained why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea before the incident, Fox don't! stabbed him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an already egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed was ARC-5555–Fives–one of Rex's best men.

Fox only remembered the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other–because of him.

Fox had seen and read enough. It was him, he knew that much, but he still didn't remember being there. He didn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It was like he was sleepwalking, even though not a single clone out of millions had ever been noted to do so on record.

He found it even more odd that he was on-scene for the shooting and then left. It wasn't like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thought about it, he didn't even write this report. If he didn't, then who did?

Fox yelled in frustration and kicked the leg of his desk. Why couldn't he remember? How could he have forgotten he shot and killed a brother? How could he have forgotten Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he have forgotten leaving his office or coming back?

Fox felt sick. Not only had he killed a brother, but he also killed one of Rex's–a beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox didn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he did.

Fox pulled a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserted one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicked and he pulled it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clinked together as he searched for a specific one.

Finding it, he pulled it out of the drawer and placed it on his desk. He leaned down to grab a glass, hesitated, then closed the drawer without taking it. He twisted the cap off the bottle, grabbed the neck, and tilted the opening to his lips. It was time to forget even more.

"Fox?" Thorn whispered as he peered into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groaned in response. His torso rested on top of his desk and the side of his face lay on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighed and shook his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox said, his words slurred and his body twitched.

Thorn ignored Fox's inebriated order and pulled up a chair to sit opposite the desk. "Talk to me."

"Nothin'... to talk about."

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn said. He grabbed the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and set it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picked his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggled to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he spat, then laid his head back down on the desk so the room would stop spinning.

Thorn tapped his fingers against the desk surface next to Fox's head to get his attention and Fox flinched at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groaned, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox said as he slowly picked his head back up to look at his stupid boyfriend. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirked. "Part of my charm."

"Kark… ing… banthas… have more charm." Fox's head swayed as he tried to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolled his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asked. He reached for the bottle and Thorn leaned over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn said flatly.

Fox huffed. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn said with a shrug. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reached for the bottle again and Thorn moved it again. "I'm… not effective."

Thorn raised an eyebrow, stifling a chuckle. "Yeah, I can see that. You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox said, then reached for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asked, clearly annoyed at the silent game they were playing. He lifted the bottle out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirked through heavy-lidded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn placed the bottle back down onto the desk and pushed it towards Fox. Fox grabbed it, sat back in his chair, and shot the last burning drops down his throat, then slammed the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn said. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckled. "I don't know."

Thorn knitted his brow. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilted his head to the side and studied Fox for a moment. Even when drunk, Fox usually made some sense, but this particular time he was making zero sense. It wasn't that hard of a question, but his avoidance of answering it was making Thorn worry.

There was something Fox wasn't telling him and he needed to know what it was to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard wasn't going to get anyone anywhere fast. 

"Fox," Thorn prodded.

"Don't Fox me," Fox said. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn said. "Just tell me what happened."

Fox shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember shooting a vod?"

"Nope."

Thorn pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox said, his agitation grew at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounded his fists onto the desk, causing Thorn to flinch.

"Easy, cyare," Thorn soothed. He reached out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yelled. His body jerked weakly as he batted Thorn's hand away. "Is snot. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with Fox this drunk and worked up, so he decided to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he said before getting up from his chair. He looked down at Fox's dilapidated state, shook his head, then turned to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox said.

Thorn turned around and scoffed. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabbed the empty bottle and threw it towards Thorn, but it hit the wall by the door instead and shattered into a million pieces. "Shabuir."

Thorn sighed. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turned back towards the door and left Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbled and laid his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He wasn't truly angry at Thorn, as annoying as he was. No. He was angry at himself. Angry that he couldn't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he couldn't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain refused to put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where had his memory gone? Had it grown legs and walked away from him? Had it left him or did he leave it? Was that even possible?

Fox would stay lying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back was beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guessed. He needed to try and make it to his couch where he could stretch out and fall asleep.

At least while asleep, he wouldn't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then his beloved Thorn butted in and ruined it further.

Fox tried to peel himself off his desk, but his body was heavy. He managed to sit up, but then slumped back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groaned at the pain and rubbed the aching spot.

When he opened his eyes, the room was spinning, and it made him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckled to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hadn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox planted his hands squarely on his desk and rocked to push himself out of the chair. He tried once and couldn't get it. He tried twice and still couldn't get it. He tried thrice and finally, he was on his feet, although he used a little too much force and fell forward onto his desk. Maybe it was better if he crawled to the couch instead of walking there. He let the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he was sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leaned past the desk and turned his head to see where the couch was, but he leaned a little too far and slumped over onto the ground. He groaned. This was a terrible idea. He wished he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he had to make it on his own.

With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolled himself onto his stomach and crawled towards the couch. Usually, it was closer, but right now it felt klicks away. Maker, he was tired. Why did he put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why couldn't it come to him?

Someone should've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic was too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continued to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scooted closer. With one final push, he made it, but accidentally bumped his head against the leg. He cursed it again.

Now, it was just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he could finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial was causing him grief. Why was it so high up? Why was the floor so far down? Why wouldn't the room stop spinning?

He wished he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body was heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabbed one of the cushions, pulled himself up, and flopped onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolled off of his stomach and settled himself with his back against the back of the couch so he didn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, it didn't sound like such a bad idea.

He chuckled to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him if he left him like that. Only his boyfriend would find a way into the afterlife and kill him all over again for being such an idiot. Although, to Fox, it was a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if they tried to hide it from everyone, they were still a couple. Some days, when they fought, it didn't feel like it, but when push came to shove, there was no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together and falling in love, he figured.

Fox released a wide yawn that made his stomach churn, but he was happy that his body wanted to rest. With a few slow breaths, he let himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he would wake up and finally remember or if his memory would still be adrift.

Fox groaned as he stirred from his sleep. He slowly opened one eye and saw that it was still dark out, which meant either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He didn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle.

Even more surprising was the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also meant Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him–the idiot. He'd need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he saw him.

Fox carefully shifted to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounded from the hangover. He hadn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'd have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was.

Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looked around the room but frowned when he saw the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. He wouldn't buy another one of those anytime soon. Such a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoisted himself up off the couch and grabbed the arm to steady his shaky legs. He didn't feel woozy, but his body still felt heavy, like there were rocks in his head weighing him down.

He rolled his neck, then his shoulders, and then arched his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae made a popping sound and he groaned. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch sleeping was still not as nice as a bunk. He needed some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbled his way to the refresher connected to his office and was–once again–thankful for the amenities he had access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would've been embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself.

Thorn would've gotten a good laugh, though, the jerk. He would have said something stupid just to piss him off. But that was the game they chose to play because Fox had embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox stepped into the refresher without flipping the light switch on and twisted the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cupped the rushing water in his hands and splashed it onto his face. The cool water felt good on his hot skin and soothed his throbbing headache.

He splashed the water on his face a few more times and then used one last good splash to smooth over his unruly curls. He patted his face dry with the towel and stared at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection was… off.

Fox rubbed the towel across his face again, thinking he had some water stuck in his eyes that made his vision blurry, but the reflection still looked odd. He then used the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that didn't clear it either.

Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opened the mirror cabinet and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen. He popped a few and swallowed them dry, wincing as he felt them go down his throat, and then closed the cabinet.

Hi Fox, a voice said.

Fox startled and stumbled back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" He turned his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he wasn't there. "Thorn?" he called, but there was no answer.

He peeked his head out of the refresher to see if there was anyone in his office, but it was still dark and empty. It was just him; he was alone. He'd never had a hangover that made him hear things before. At least not that he remembered. Fox's heart raced with adrenaline.

Fox, the voice said.

Fox flinched at the sound of his name and whipped his head around to try and find who was calling his name, but there was still no one there. "Thorn," Fox said with a warning tone. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you if–"

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice said.

Fox froze and his blood ran cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, yet he was still alone in the refresher. His instincts screamed at him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he was hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't have been hearing voices, or at least he didn't think he should've been hearing voices.

Fox closed his eyes took a couple deep breaths to calm himself and hoped that whatever it was would go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know, the voice said. Especially dead people.

Yup, he was crazy. He was one hundred percent certified crazy. Not only was he hearing voices, but he was hearing voices of the dead . What had he done while he was drunk and asleep? Conjured a demon? Summoned a spirit? Invited a deity to chat over some caf? The other option was that he was still plastered and hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sounded equally as insane, but did they make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox said. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the refresher door to leave, but it slid shut before he could exit. He stared at the closed door and took another deep breath, then released it slowly.

He slid his hands over his holsters, but the blasters were missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he never noticed. He mentally kicked himself for being so absentminded as to leave them on the couch, but in his defense, there weren't many who would attack him in his own office.

Fox ran his tongue across his teeth and puffed his chest out before turning around to face whatever was messing with him, but when he did, there was no one else in the refresher besides himself. He bit his lip and nodded his head.

It must've been a dream. He was living in a dream and he couldn't wake up. That had to be the answer. There was no other explanation. Once he woke up, he was going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this nuttiness wasn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting, the voice said impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox gritted his teeth and thought for a moment. If he answered the voice of the dead, was something bad going to happen to him? It wasn't like his life could get any worse. He was already a dog of the Republic, he'd shot and killed a brother, and he was probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There wasn't much else they could do to him.

Fox was startled at the sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… a clone he killed. Fox's heartbeat pounded ferociously in his ears.

He took a few steps towards the sink and peered into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came into the refresher that it didn't dawn on him to wonder what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right.

He stared at his reflection, and tilted his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studied the image, and then his eyes grew wide when he realized that the reflection hadn't followed the tilt of his head. He moved in closer.

Boo, the reflection said with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screamed and out of reflex, he punched the mirror, cracking it. He heaved in heavy breaths and pulled his fist out of the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighed and sidestepped into the part of the mirror that wasn't as broken. Really?

Fox was on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline took control of every muscle in his body. His reflection was talking to him. It was moving without him. But it wasn't even him. He could see that now.

Fox took a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor was white, like a shiny's, their head was shaven, and they had a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw dropped. It was him . It was the clone he'd shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asked, sounding bored.

"You're…" Fox tried to speak, but he still wasn't sure what he was actually seeing.

The name's Fives, the reflection said while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember since you killed me.

Fox was speechless and wide-eyed. He felt sick to his stomach. He knew who Fives was, but he still didn't remember shooting him. He never even met him, and the only images he had of him were in his ARC armor, not whatever he was wearing now.

Fox thought back to the recording that was attached to the report and remembered seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He had found it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox said as he backed away from the mirror. " You're not real! You're dead!"

The reflection snorted. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yelled, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touched the hard durasteel wall and he slid down it until he was sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asked. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulled his knees to his chest, clasped his hands over his ears, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yelled again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving, the voice said. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox screamed. "Leave me alone!" His breathing became labored and he felt like he was going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox, the reflection chuckled, then pushed itself out of the mirror and folded its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next two rotations had Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror wasn't just a voice anymore. It was a full-body apparition that followed him around wherever he went. He couldn't even take a piss without that thing watching him.

He still wondered if it was the actual Fives or if it was just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he felt for killing the clone. He wanted to tell Thorn about it, but even he had limits on disbelief, and besides that, he was at some senate event so he hadn't seen him since he threw the bottle at him.

Hour after hour, the apparition asked Fox if he remembered killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still had the same answer–no. Maker, he wished it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it was just for a couple of minutes. He needed peace.

There was nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watched him from across the room with its cold, dark, dead eyes and smug expression. If this was the real Fives, then he didn't understand why Rex liked him so much. He was an annoying piece of work for sure.

However, the third rotation was strangely quiet. The apparition was nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox was taking the much-needed alone time to catch up on the reports he'd been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There was always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thought.

Fox looked up from his data-pad when he heard a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn said with a smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nodded. He was glad Thorn was back from the event, even if he didn't say it out loud.

Thorn walked into the office, placed the cup down in front of Fox, and sat leisurely on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabbed the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhaled its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorted. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name-calling."

Fox winced at the vague memory, then took a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"Your di'kut," Fox smirked.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asked as it appeared next to Fox.

Fox startled and accidentally dropped the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startled and jumped off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

Fox sighed. "Yeah. Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walked off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod, the apparition said as it watched Thorn with interest. Is he your cyare?

Fox chose to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know, the apparition continued. It hopped up onto the desk to sit in front of Fox, legs dangling over the edge. I had a cyare once–actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glared at the apparition and snarled. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckled. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reached out to touch Fox, but its hand went straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your cyare.

Fox continued to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition said. Thorn was more than just his boyfriend, but this was his issue to deal with, and he wasn't going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. 

Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation went a long way in his mind. He just needed Thorn to see it once, then he could feel safe again–feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asked with concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabbed the towel and patted himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn didn't look convinced, but he also didn't argue.

I'm not fine, the apparition said. I'm dead.

Fox wanted to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room made him wonder. He turned his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asked, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox said and tossed the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Never mind."

"Fox," Thorn said hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox, the apparition added. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue. Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaimed as he slammed his fists onto the desk. Thorn flinched and Fox bit his tongue and sighed. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still didn't look convinced, and he shook his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't, the apparition said. You shot me.

"Thanks," Fox said. His eye twitched. It was hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it was even harder when he had two people talking to him at once and only one of them was actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn said. He placed a firm but gentle hand on Fox's shoulder and squeezed. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too, the apparition said.

"I appreciate that," Fox said, trying to give him the best fake smile he could muster.

Thorn threw Fox another look of concern but turned and left his office all the same.

Fox immediately turned his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No, the apparition said. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox dropped his head onto his desk and yelled in frustration.

The apparition hopped off the desk and knelt so its face was on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispered. And I'll go away.

Fox clutched the side of his head with his hands. "I'm trying," he choked out. "But I can't remember."

It had been a week and Fox was on the verge of losing himself. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't do anything. The reports were piling up and questions were being asked. Thorn continued to pry, and he appreciated the thought, but he wished he'd just drop it.

Every time Thorn came into his office or snuggled into his arms in bed, the apparition stared at him like he was a piece of meat. Fox knew the apparition couldn't hurt Thorn, at least, that was what he'd been made to believe, but what if he was wrong? What if it could hurt Thorn?

He couldn't let it get Thorn. It could torment him all it wanted, it could even kill him if it wanted to, but he would not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn was too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hadn't killed any clones. He probably hadn't killed anyone.

There was no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It was Fox the apparition wanted. The clone's blood was on his hands, not Thorn's. Thorn had nothing to do with any of this and Fox would do anything to protect him. He would die for Thorn in a heartbeat.

Hi Fox, the apparition said while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox said with disdain from where he sat behind his desk.

The truth, the apparition said with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox said. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough, the apparition said as it pushed itself off the door frame and approached Fox's desk.

Fox stood up, his chair violently scraping across the floor. "I won't let you hurt Thorn."

What are you talking about? the apparition asked.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox yelled. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunted. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox clutched the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunted further. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!"

C'mon, Fox. The apparition walked closer. Just tell me.

Fox drew one of his blasters and pointed it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition said, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathed heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirked. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yelled, then fired a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watched as the apparition fell to its knees and clutched at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting–Thorn?

Fox panted as his senses began to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipated, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping the bleeding hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted his face as he looked at Fox.

No. This couldn't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he just shoot his lover? But it was the ghost! The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasped. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox had done hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened, tears brimming at the surface, and his voice quivered. "Thorn?"

Thorn collapsed forward onto the floor and Fox rushed to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambled as he rolled Thorn over and applied pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yelled. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears fell from Fox's eyes as he tried desperately to explain.

Thorn reached up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabbed it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn said weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand dropped as his body went limp and he breathed his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yelled, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, cyare." He pulled Thorn's lifeless body close to his chest and rocked him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appeared once again, crouched down in front of Fox, and looked apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shook its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looked at the apparition. He was still in shock.

Oh well, the apparition said with a smirk. A vod for a vod. At least you'll remember killing this one.

Tagging a few people who were interested: @brokenphoenix99

[red-man-of-mustache]

Starting Over

Waow, I sure have been absent a lot lately huh? More than usual, but also more fierce in trying to say "I'll be back" or not go on hiatus.

We've had a good run. Mario and I. Literally ten years. On and off yes but still, a full decade of me writing the guy and enjoying every second of it. I still say he's one of the muses that came most naturally to me.

It's been a while since I've had a full day of replying to things, getting asks out or musing ... and truthfully, I'm done. This time, I've come to realize that my muse is so far away that I don't see this being remedied. There will be no more coming back from the brink of hiatus hell, no more popping back in to revive the flame. It's over. My run with Mario is at it's end and it pains me to say that really. At least, portraying him. I'll always be a huge fan of his media.

That's the TLDR. If you'd like the rest of my thoughts they'll be below the cut so as to not clutter the dash. Mostly reminiscing and clarifying why I've come to this decision.

I've made Ganondorf his own blog. He's not going down with the plumber.

Any questions, thoughts, anything really, my discord is available upon request. Just reach out in messages. ^^

One thing about Mario is he's, in my opinion, timeless. Certain aspects of his media are products of their time but still the message, the overall goofiness, and the content within can be enjoyed when or wherever. I remember being a kid and my first foray into his world. It was magical. I fell in love with the simple mechanic of running and jumping to get where you needed mixed in with the other things that came about when the situation called for it. Then I discovered his other escapades into certain genres, chief of all being RPG's. Legend Of The Seven Stars, Paper Mario, and the M&L series. We all know how excellent these titles are for expanding on most corners of this universe with admittedly surface level characters.

But, that's what I think makes this particular franchise beautiful: simple motivations and character archetypes that cascade to make the plots of these games we all love. Mario is a hero. Wherever he can, he will help. The Mushroom Kingdom receives most of his attention naturally but he's not foreign to traveling, getting into a bind and helping people locally. We see parts of him peek out along all his adventures: he's brash, aggressive, passionate, and so many other shades of human.

This inspired me way back when to role-play him. Specifically however I was spurred to come here, tumblr, to be him by my Girlfriend. Usually I'd shrug off specific requests for characters as I have a need for things to flow naturally but I followed her request and never looked back. Ten years later, I'm still typing on this blue wall of a site.

The ups, downs, and all arounds of life have all taken me in various directions but I always would come back ready to be a goof again amongst like-minded people.

Not this time however.

There's just.... something in the air. I don't have the will to force out another reply or even crop another icon. I don't have it in me to muse over the games like I used to. And it's not to say I'm soured to the media. Quite the contrary actually. I bought Brothership day 1 and although I believe there's pacing issues (A la Dream Team) I'm hooked.

I don't feel at home anymore dwelling on this blog.

That's not anyone's fault. And that's okay really. We need to be able to look ourselves in the eye and say when things aren't working out. Being afraid of starting over has held me back in a lot of areas in life, specifically with interpersonal relationships. Not anymore.

I won't be starting again with Mario however. This chapter of my life has come to a close. I hold Mario and by extension my writing as him very close to my heart. Yet, I just don't have it in me anymore.

I'll be honest: I wish to bring joy to people with what I do. It's as much for me as it is you, the person reading this. I can't fake that. I have been for a bit actually. That's not okay.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm using Mario to fill a void in my life.

These kinds of thoughts don't "get to me" per se but why am I asking myself such questions? It all comes full circle to the simple act of logging on and writing for him. I can choose not to be here as I've unfortunately been doing. I can choose to step away and recuperate. What I can't choose however is where my heart lies.

So this is goodbye. Goodbye Mario and all the things I've conjured around him. We had a great run. The spirit of it will live on while I play his games and cheer him on.

This blog and it's predecessor represent an especially tender part of me. Both of them will stay up as a testament to that. I believe I've contacted most of the people I speak with regularly before making this public but if you have any questions OR want further clarification just reach out. I think I've rambled long enough here.

I love you all. Being Mario has been a feeling I'll never be able to replicate or capture ever again and honestly? That's a good thing. These fond memories will live on and I can come back to look at them whenever.

[pomelowed]

Just went down a rabbit hole yippee!!

I follow this blog called @/my-kawaii--world because I like the aesthetics and this post came across my feed: https://www.tumblr.com/my-kawaii--world/753409702367477760/hey-this-site-seems-sketchy-af-as-a-lot-of-the?source=share

Those stuffed animals were so cute that I immediately went to the store to order one! But before I did I, like I usually do when finding new online stores, looked around to see what else they sell. I like doing this just to see if the items are really mismatched or if the other listings seem to be lower quality than what I'm trying to order. Well, the store, called Lavender Creations, seemed to offer a lot of items I saw on places like Alibaba or Temu. In fact, the mushroom purse they sell is one my sister bought off of Aliexpress. No worries though, artists oftentimes get their creations ripped off by dropshippers and their ilk so wasn't a death knell but definitely was a red flag. This led me to check it on scamadvisor and whoo boy.

It scored 36/100. The site has existed for years and it has a SSL but I wasn't worried about the site being a scam that'll steal my credit card info, I was just trying to figure out if it was a dropshipper and welp. One of the negative reviews stated that the supposed flash sale was in fact a daily sale (and I can confirm since me writing this post took long enough that the sale that was supposed to end at midnight is still ongoing despite the fact it's currently 1 AM). That was a dead ringer that this site most definitely wasn't the original creator or at least someone reliable. So, google lens it was for a reverse image search aaaaand

yeah ok unsurprising. Will say, none of these listings have the black & white one I was going to buy and that the dandelionevine was the only other one to sell the white version but also it's selling them for $60 which is way more than lavender constellation that sells them for $44 or $30 with the "sale". Also, amazon link is dead unfortunately because it supposedly was being sold for $25, the cheapest yet.

Now, if this was simply just a case of dropshipping then I would've left it at my reblog I made warning others about it BUT there's that first listing, Plush This?? They're the reason I'm making this post.

As far as I can tell they're the original creators! Awesome, great I can purchase him from here even if it isn't the b&w version I wanted, let me just read the full listing to see the specifics,,,,,, wtf

WHAT??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WAS DESIGNED BY AI????? THIS IS A CAN OF WORMS I DIDNT PLAN TO ENCOUNTER????? Apparently, that's their whole thing: let AI design a plush and then recreate it which is honestly a really cool concept if AI wasn't known for literally stealing others' work (I'm ignoring the fact it would also mean it takes designers' jobs, which is also a shame).

If the AI was ethically trained then I suppose it counts as an original work? It's a bit of a grey area since no one actually owns the likeness of a cat (not yet at least) and plenty of artists create their own works by referencing others. So, who's to say an AI doing the same thing is unethical? I mean, there's a real human effort being put into realizing an imaginary item because this doesn't seem to be the usual AI scam of rendering an image and pretending it's genuine to generate purchases. But that ignores the fact there are limitations to artists on what they can produce (copyright laws exist and fair use clauses do too). So AI shouldn't be exempt from giving its fair dues to the people it should be "inspired" by and it should also be punished if it steals like a human does. Plus, the current state of AI is a lot more like replication than anything near inspiration so really that question cannot be applied in the current generation of AI.

There's one giant elephant in the room I haven't addressed yet: who is to say that the cat plush isn't based on some niche Etsy creator who had their creation ripped off by the AI model? Idk how it was taught so idk if the images were ethically sourced and thus if my money is going into a design that hasn't been stolen in some way. I'm sure they gave the AI a bunch of reference images of a Devon Rex from different angles and told it to make it a stuffed animal. But was the AI fed ethically sourced references of what is a plush? Or was it given Etsy and told to go ham in copying everything??

And, if the AI model WAS trained with stolen images, how awful really is the dropshipping aside from the ungodly prices?? I mean, my usual issues with dropshipping are: they try to sell junk for obscene prices, original works are reproduced without permission, & the profits of the original creator are stolen. But which of those issues are applicable in this scenario? The original work is seemingly high quality as implied with the reviews I see on Lavender Constellations & Plush This, so not all listings are churning out low quality crap, meaning the first issue is resolved. I mean, if people are receiving quality items that they feel is worth the price then there isn't any issue in that department. But those last two issues I have are the kicker, who is the original creator in this scenario?? Is it Plush This or is it the amalgamation of artists that go uncredited?? If the former then, yeah, these sites should not be selling their work. Yet, the latter seems much more in line with what I know about how AI is trained: unabashedly scanning and copying others' works without consent or compensation. Thus, I don't really feel too badly about it being resold on so many stores. It's already stolen work so they're all thieves to me.

Man, idk. It's unfortunate AI isn't simply a tool and the current state of things have festered and spread thanks to the lack of regulations. I imagine the AI models we have today that are made of stolen artworks will just be the concrete foundation and people wont see reparations for their work. Kinda one of those "them's the breaks (brakes?) kid" where laws will come into place that'll prevent AI from stealing others works. The question is will the people it already stole from be repaid? Or will they just have to live with the fact that the AI modules that are common use have stolen their work and wont stop continuing to profit off of that theft into the foreseeable future?

All of this is to say I'm not even sure if Plush This is the real creator!! I know I said I was almost certain they were but that's really only because the whole marketing scheme of their site is that the plushes they create are based off AI generated images and that kind of statement is too specific to only use as a selling point.... right?? Well let me start with this:

So, yes, according to Leila Wang, creator of PlushThis (why no spaces?), everything is AI to physical. Grand. Don't get me wrong, that's a real skill thats being just wasted imo, but back on track. Here's the website for you to check it out yourself: https://plushthis.com/ also they use MidJourney according to this article from last year: https://www.24-7pressrelease.com/press-release/503245/introducing-plushthis-worlds-first-ai-generated-plushies-brand-revolutionizing-stuffed-animal-design

Scamadvisor gives it a 90/100 but only gives one review as an example when most of the listings have reviews, which is odd. This part is literally just me putting on a tinfoil hat so take the bit with a grain of salt, but I think they're having their AI write their reviews. They're all very,,, bland? I don't know if anyone has played that website game called "Human or Not" but the reviews are giving AI. As an example, here's the listing for a dragon plush they have:

and then here's a comment under it

It's a strange mix up to have when it's very clearly white. Worth noting they also sell a green dragon plush.

Also, the rest of the comments tend to usually have a comment on how soft they are? And if not that then how high quality the fabric is. And they all have the same grammar with what I think the nail in the coffin being the fact not a single review has missed adding at least a period to the end of the last sentence. Yes, that level of proper grammar isn't uncommon,,,, but for every single review??? Yeah, I'm not buying it. All this added to the fact Scamadvisor only pulled one positive comment out this sea leads me to believe these aren't real reviews and are just HTML code or whatever tf.

Ok, whatever, site is faking reviews with AI and staged photos. Big whoop, just don't buy from them,,,, WELL this is all going back to how I'm not sure PlushThis is the real creator of that cat plush. Tbh what I think is happening is a mix of dropshipping and "orginal" plushes. Why?

This lil blurb states every first image listed is an AI generated image.

Let's look at this guy: https://plushthis.com/products/cute-rabbit-stuffed-animal?_pos=72&_sid=8df0505e5&_ss=r

There's only two images given and when I look him up in reverse image search:

Look at all those. PlushThis doesn't come up despite this image supposedly being AI.

This guy? https://plushthis.com/products/pink-black-racoon-stuffed-animal-toy?_pos=1&_sid=ffe901991&_ss=r

Yeah, only PlushThis matches.

So, what does this mean? I think it means that the cat more than likely IS a dropshipped item THAT THEY DIDNT CREATE??? Which is crazy because the blurb attached to it is one of the few times they mention in a listing that the stuffed animal started as an AI image. In fact, that blurb is what caused me to spiral down into this!! IT ALSO THROWS OUT MY PREVIOUS STATEMENTS ABOUT THE ETHICS OF ALL OF THIS!!! This isn't my only receipt as the cat that started this all is listed here: https://www.dscopilot.ai/products/1005006873166491

It states that the supplier is the whitebeard' store on aliexpress. Now, this could always be a ripoff of PlushThis' original creation but I doubt they're the original creators at this point. Since every creation's first image is AI, that either means they didn't share the AI image, their whole gimmick, or it wasn't designed by AI and thus couldn't provide a generated image. So, the next course of action was seeing if Taihua Toys Hong Kong Co, PlushThis' parent company, is related to any of the sellers on other sites and that's too tall of an order for me. That's a way bigger deep dive than I'm capable of in this moment, but if I ever do try and see if I can confirm my suspicions, I will reply to this. Hopefully soon since a lot of the sites listed when I reverse image searched the cat no longer have it for sale. Is it possibly a parent company trying to clean up the internet and make it less obvious the item is actually cheaply mass produced?? Who knows, not me.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Brainrot Housekeeping: A little note about Dorian

This is my heads-up that I've decided to try messing around on their platform and translating some of my headcanons into the Arcana's visual novel format.

This is not a promotional post. (hence why you won't be seeing any links, story titles, or profile handles)

It's mostly so that if anybody sees something posted by an author over there using my ideas/moniker, it's probably me and not a thief. Also, this blog is far and away my priority over that - if I start to feel overwhelmed or burnt out, that's going to be the first thing I stop doing. Not this :)

I'm putting more thoughts below the cut since the main point of this post is to be transparent about my activity to avoid misunderstandings:

I've been in conversation with plenty of people about Dorian. I've heard from people whose lives were transformed for the better because of it, I've heard from people with mixed feelings, I've heard from people whose lives were wrecked by it. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who's been on my page for a while that I'm fairly skeptical of them myself and don't always see eye-to-eye with them on how things seem to be run.

Anybody who's talked to me personally about it knows that I have boatloads more opinions, but I realized that those are based off of what I've heard much more than off of what I've experienced. So for transparency's sake, here are my reasons for trying this out:

First, the most important thing I've learned to do is to try encountering something for myself when I keep hearing and developing strong opinions about it. Sticking to this personal value is what got me out of Rai's server and influence (if you don't know and you want to know, read my pinned "to the arcana fandom" post) and ultimately what helped me get the resources I needed to help my friends get out of serious danger too. If I want to join the conversation about the clear divide between Dorian's vision for the Arcana and the fandom built around the original game, I have to try both sides out for myself.

Second, I'm a curious person and it seems like a new way to fuck around and find out (something I do constantly, though I rarely show it on here :P). I'm a creative, I love these characters, and the chance to see my own words in the original format sounds like fun.

To finish off, these are the goals and parameters I'm setting myself when it comes to however active I end up being over there. I'm putting them here again for transparency, but mainly to help me keep myself accountable:

My main goal is to try a new experience and have fun in the process. To do that, I'm going to keep my mind open without losing critical thinking and only make what I feel like making and when I feel like making it

Nothing I create is going to be motivated by a desire to be "successful". I'm already successful - I have a steady job IRL, a group of amazing friends, and this gift of a page that lets me be creative and find joy with other people around one of my many interests

Being active over there is going to be a bottom priority. If my tasks are getting to be too much, that will be the first to go because the only value I place in it at this time is experiental

If I find I can't stick to these goals, whether it be motivation, mentality, or just a loss of interest, I'll stop my activity over there and re-evaluate what I'm doing vs what I want to be doing and why

If I encounter something that's deeply concerning to me, I'll attempt to address it proactively through the proper channels available to me. If those concerns remain unaddressed and I think people need to know about it, I'll talk about it openly and honestly

I won't use my blog or server to promote any work I publish over there. Concurrently, I'll do my best to avoid any promotion off of the Dorian app

That's all from me for now about this! I'll be linking it in my pinned post so people who want to know more about me can look at it, but I won't be putting it on the arcana tag because I don't think it's relevant at this time.

Cheers!

brainrot

[dilatorywriting]

(Edit: I think this is the longest text wall I've ever sent you. I'm so so sorry - Reaper) so! about the selkie ask from the other anon

Funny thing is, I was clearing out my old tumblr blog a few days ago, and stumbled across that very post as I was mass deleting everything I'd ever reblogged. Unfortunately, I can't link it to you, because I misjudged how tumblr saves things in your likes. Apparently, if you like a post on your own blog, that you yourself reblogged, then delete the post, it also deletes the like. I did not know that. RIP all those posts I wanted to save, including that selkie one.

Anyway, at the time, that post gave me brainrot for an Azul AU that could maybe fit with your Monster Mayhem series? But I sat on it because: A) I have already cursed you with Rook brainrot. I have done enough damage B) I was aware that you were doing your exams this past week. I do not wish to be distracting C) I am invested in your Leona and Rook stories at the moment. On the off chance that this new brainrot would infect you as well, then I would be shooting both of us in the foot

But then. Mystery selkie anon comes from somewhere in the blind eternities and speaks about the exact post that inflicted my brainrot? I will take this as a sign from the gods to spill the Azul brainrot, for better or worse. I apologize in advance.

So.

Azul is some description of very old, very magical, eldritch horror sea beast. He was asleep for centuries, somewhere in a deep, dark, forgotten part of the ocean. And then some idiot woke him up.

Azul wakes to find that humanity has changed so much since last he saw it. The lower lifeforms (read: short-lived mortals) had flourished in a way that he and other beings like him had never expected. Speaking of others like him, he also finds that he's alone - he can't sense of any of the other eltdritch horror beings he remembers from long ago. He can't tell whether they're asleep somewhere, like he was, banished, or dead. He doesn't quite care either, it's not as if he was friends with any of them.

Instead he observes the humans. He's always been fascinated with humans. Their determination and what they could achieve despite their fleeting existence. It was a human, who'd put him to sleep all those years ago, after all.

Eventually, he's not satisfied anymore with watching from afar, and decides he wants to walk among them. To see them closer, perhaps even rise above them, have them revere him as they once did others of his kind, as they should have done to him in the old days but didn't. It's also lonely, so far down in the deepest darkest ocean depths. Not that Azul would ever admit that.

So Azul turns to his collection and knowledge of ancient magicks. Twsiting spells with odd rules and loopholes that he loves so much. The same tricky spells that the humans used to come to him for, while they worshiped the others. He chooses one that will allow him to shapeshift his body into that of a human, but it has a rather pricey trade off. In order to convert a being such as him into something so small and solid, there's a tiny issue of matter and energy displacement, conservation, and condensation and such. Very complicated things. In short, the spell requires that a physical object be imbued with his displaced essence, to maintain the human form. It's a very old and quite common shapeshifting spell, and the humans have many myths about it, not seeming to realize that it all comes from the same spell. Myths about creatures whose power is bound to an object. Dragons and their gemstones, Selkies and their coats, Foxes and their tails.

But it's a risky trade. Should another being come into possession of that imbued object, and take ownership of it, they would too take control of its true owner. Azul knows this well, he'd used that loophole to his advantage many times in the past. Considering this very carefully, he chooses his object. A trinket would be too shiny, too noticable, too easily misplaced. It must be something plain and common. Something no-one really thinks of taking, something one would normally have on them at all times as a human. He chooses a coat.

And Azul goes ashore.

Meanwhile, our MC runs modest little magic shop in the village. It's nothing incredibly fancy and their own magic abilities are nothing really to brag home about. They deal in common "entertainment" magic mostly. Talismans that change water to juice, or bread to chocolate. Little poppers that make tiny indoor fireworks. A potion that instantly makes a few daisies grow. Little things, mostly geared towards those that aren't able to perform magic. No-one else in the village is especially magically inclined and the general opinion of the little shop is that it's charming. And so is it's keeper!

Publically that is.

Behind MC's thickened with sugar customer service facade is someone who's running on 95% spite. Because here's the thing about magic users: they tend to judge other magic users on magical aptitude alone, and MC never had much of that. Being snubbed by every wizard, warlock, or elf you ever meet leaves one quite bitter. And from that bitterness came the decision to run a store, selling your "not real magic" to the masses, because it makes those wizards seethe, and seeing their soured faces as you "sully the name of magical arts" brings you so much joy.

Recently, however, you have a rival.

There's boy who comes to the market every Sunday, peddling flashier tricks and talismans than yours on a small folding table. Normally, you wouldn't mind, given he only comes one day a week, but that nonchalance ended the moment a sheepish customer came into your store a following Monday, trying to return a faulty item they'd bought from the boy to you. When asked, they'd adverted their eyes and claimed the boy said he worked for you and that you would handle all customer complaints.

Well.

You'd smiled very brightly, politely informed the customer of their mistake, and accepted the declaration of war.

You've been at it for awhile now, and your latest scheme to one up the mystery market scammer was to get a familiar to help you in the shop. A cute one. A sweet one. Something pretty to draw in customers and perform a little pest control. And what luck it is that you know a mage in a nearby town that deals in such familiars. Sure, Cater was a bit of a flirt, but he'd never snubbed you, or tried to cheat you, and would know exactly what you meant when you stormed in and said "I want something so cute it'll destroy someone."

On your way to Cater's, you stop at a quaint little tea shop. You buy some rosehip to take with you, since you don't come to this town often, and on your way out you notice a man quitely reading at a table. His coat had fallen to the floor and, without thinking, you pick it up. This catches his attention and, startled, he blinks up at you. You can't help but notice how pretty he is - it's almost hypnotic. Soft pale hair that frames his face in waves and bright blue eyes. The mole by his mouth draws attention to his lips. You smile at him, like it's the most natural thing in the world, and apolgize. You tell him his coat was on the floor, and that you're just returning it. As you do, you place it on the back of his chair. Your hand brushes his shoulder and there's a sharp jolt of what feels like static electricity. The strength of it almost makes you jump. Instead you shiver, shake your head, apologize again, and leave.

You don't think about it again until later, when Cater tries to place an open binding sigil on your arm to bond you with a cute, fuzzy familiar, and it fizzles out immediately. Three times in a row. Then Cater says that the only reason the binding sigil would fail, would be if you'd already bonded to something. You blink in confusion, and Cater goes on to say (now with concern colouring his tone) that it would've felt like a strong jolt of static electricity. Some strange object someone might've passed you, or perhaps an animal that might've wandered up and brushed-

A man, you say, thinking of the tea shop. Cater chokes.

Your brain runs a mile a minute, picking over every detail you could remember about the mystery pretty man in the shop, focusing on him intently. Cater goes through various stages of panic as you do so ("a man?!? that's not familiar binding that's practically marriage! You're telling me you accidentally got married on the way over here?!?"). Eventually he tries his scrying mirror, to find the culprit, only for the mirror's glass to turn ink black and shatter. Cater does not take this well.

Eventually he lets you go home, but only after you agree to take his assistant, Deuce home with you for the night. Deuce, the sweetheart that he is, glares at every man who walks past like he wants to punch their lights out. You, conversely, are almost completely inside your own head. You can't bind to other people with bonding sigils - they're meant for familiars or contracts, they don't work on people - so what does that mean? That the man you met wasn't human, and instead some magic creature? But why would you bind with him just by touching his coat?

Meanwhile, Azul does not immediately notice that he'd bonded with MC. He'd registered the sharp jolt of magic, sure, but simply brushed it off as static runoff due to a magic user being in close contact with him and his coat. Nothing to worry about. Nothing would ever happen from someone just touching the coat - that was ridiculous. No, in order to actually take control & create a bind, they'd have to know the correct ritual spell. The one he personally ripped up every copy of nearly a millenia ago when he was last awake.

Then he goes to the seashore, later in the evening, to return to the ocean for the night, and finds that he can no longer revert to his true form. Or to any form other than his current one.

Oh dear.

It's easy for him to trace the culprit. In in the water of a tidepool he sees MC, deep in thought, focusing intently on him as he'd appeared to them, and thus keeping him tied to this form. Azul watches, with a mixture of contempt and fascination, as it becomes clear that this human has no idea what they've done, how they've done it, or who and what he is. Well. This'll be an easy fix at least.

He spends the night planning. He settles for the apologetic approach. An "I'm so sorry, I believe you may have accidentally set off a sigil I had in my coat pocket when you picked it up and it's linked us somehow. I'm sure it's a bother - don't worry I'll just remove it" and the whole mess should be finished.

Except it isn't. Because the moment he steps foot in your shop, your smile drops like a stone and you point an accusing finger at him. You're demanding to know what he's done to you, and Azul finds a whole millenia of patience, plus last night's planning, going down the drain in an instant as he stoops to argue with this human. Because this isn't his fault, thank you, it's clearly yours.

You shout at eachother for a bit, and come to the conclusion that it's best for both parties if this magical bond is severed immediately. But it doesn't dissolve, no matter what you or Azul try, and both of you slowly come to accept that this is going to be a little more complicated to sort out.

In your exasperation, you mutter "So that's it? I'm basically married to you now?" only to see Azul's face go the colour of a ripe apple. Instantly, you decide you will only be referring to Azul as your beloved husband going forward. It's only fair, if you're going to be stuck with him. (I apologize again for the sheer length of this monstrosity. I hope your exams went well!)

-Reaper

Oh, don't mind me over here in the corner just absolutely FROTHING AT THE MOUTH OVER THIS CONCEPT FOR MONSTER!AZUL. Reaper, my friend, you have some absolutely stellar brain worms my dude. 11/10. Never misses. My brain is going brrRRRRRRRR because I had plans! I swear I did! I had sorted Azul's lil story all into a nice, internal, filing system and was ready to lay it out whenever I finally found the time. But this selkie vibe is just so !!!!!! So!!!!! !!! I want to wrap it up in my head and never let it go. Maybe I can swipe the concepts while maintaining the og plot, or perhaps a hybrid, or maybe maybe ack! This is wonderful i want to EAT it

[isa-ghost]

hey it's the anon who asked what dr*m did,

I decided to do my own research (mainly cause I was curious) but... I can't find much? let me rephrase it - I did find the allegations from 6ish months ago, that he's going to court with one(?) of them, but that's... all? I didn't find the court's verdict, confirmations, or him admitting either... and any post or video I find has both the OP and the comments mostly on his side and believing that it's either not true or true but not grooming, even people who say they're not his fans or don't even like him.

so Im not sure if the confirmation didn't reach youtube or if I'm searching wrong or something?

but honestly while researching I realized that I cant stand him lmao, gotta agree with some comments I read - he made a mistake by showing more of his personality online, looks like any time he can handle a situation wrong/respond wrong he does it

so dunno, guess I didnt find the confirmation but at least now I don't find his old minecraft videos interesting anymore so theres that

Yeah he can't act properly to save his fucking life

Also I think most of the threads on Twitter and stuff that have all the proof he's guilty/etc is probably long buried, unfortunately. You could probably try to ask around saying you're trying to get the whole picture but tbh it's not a huge deal if you can't. You can try searching my blog but Tumblr sucks with that shit. The fact that this and his other controversies have been buried and lost to the void of the internet is typical white boy with a monstrously big platform shit so I'm not surprised. I never heard any details about court (prob for legal reasons) or a conviction either. All I know is there was screenshot proof from the victim that they talked, and Dr*m confirmed the screenshots were real but didn't say anything about other details. But those details literally can't be false if the screenshots & the shit said in them are true.

Anyway, as far as his other bullshit goes:

People found old kkk meme edits on his yt account through the wayback machine. More than once if I'm not mistaken

He has a history of defending himself using the r slur

He cheated "on accident" in a speedrun (the least important thing ever but everyone always brings it up)

He claimed he was going to donate all proceeds during pride month to lgbt+ charities & he'd do charity streams all month but never did

He defended himself about replying to haters, which would send thousands of his toxic stans after the person getting them doxxed/death threats/etc and he refused to address that it was irresponsible of him bc he was too entitled to immaturely clap back at the antis. Even other ccs, like B/itzel called him out about shit related to how he uses his platform irresponsibly & he unfollowed & shaded them like a bitch baby

The whole "accidental" copycat shit with QSMP/USMP and basically softcore stalking Q/uackity online.

His "apologies" for all of the above fucking sucked in multiple ways. And that's just 2021-Now shit I can remember off the top of my head, I lost my Twitter in May last year so now I get my info from people's posts about it on here or links to tweets.

Everyone largely suspects he spontaneously reignited d/smp lore & started the finale to cover up the groomer thing bc he has a history of doing smth "new and cool" every time he causes drama to divert attention and avoid accountability.

He's also suspected of suddenly rewriting the d/smp finale to paint his Irredeemable Abuser Villain Up Until The Last Stream as a sympathetic poor baby out of nowhere and wrote that his victim, c!Tommy apologized to him, which sends a HORRIBLE message about abusive relationships. T/ommy and T/ubbo have both subtly mentioned not liking the finale and that Dr*m had AWFUL communication during the last like 6+ months of the smp.

He also suddenly showed up in T/ubbo's chat lurking while T/ubbo happened to be mentioning he'd do his own research on the grooming situation instead of blindly siding with Dr*m and it was some shit out of a horror movie is2g, he suddenly dmed T/ubbo out of nowhere during it on discord saying they'd talk about it after T/ubbo wasn't streaming. Basically sounds like he was gonna bias T/ubbo about his innocence. Like he hadn't been in chat all stream long but SUDDENLY he was there the second the topic came up. But the d/smp ccs also can't say anything about the situation since it's a legal matter, so a handful of ccs have just stated/implied they don't support him other ways

He only quit MCC bc he threw a tantrum about how he couldn't practice for it but now that MCC island exists, people were getting better than him. He's habitually a sore loser about that kinda shit

He's got that whole weird "is he, isn't he" bullshit going on about him being lgbt. I personally think he's just catering to his stupid d/n/f shippers bc they like to truth their relationship & sexuality all the time and he's never explicitly said he's bi or smth. He's just vaguely been like "yeeeaahhhh I mostly like girls like 99% but maaaayyybeee I like guys idkkkk. 🤪" But he's also done that multiple times so who tf knows. I'm not gonna fully dismiss him & I understand no one including me is entitled to his specific sexuality, but he has garbage credibility on like everything so I'm neutral on the matter and find it hard to believe him

Not directly him related, but his stans went on a long and horrifying witch hunt on Twitter during the kkk ordeal doxxing, death threatening & harassing ENTIRE mcyt subtwts who spoke out against him and called him out on his racism, performative activism, shitty apology, etc. For example, I was part of S/neeg's subtwt and all my mutuals and me had to go private to avoid getting doxxed. It felt like being raided in some dystopian ass horror film. Entire subtwts were going private, panicking, paranoid they'd get outed & stalked & harassed by people just for condemning racism, raising Black voices, etc. It was borderline traumatic to some people, I know people who lost sleep over it bc they were so afraid.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head but the end of 2021 to early 2022 was a fucking nightmare between him being an immature entitled piece of shit and his stans blindly defending him and going out of their way to endanger people who rightfully opposed him.

[ohbo-ohno]

🗑️Are you there god? it's me Trash. Again. First of all, happy valentines, i know Eros giggles and kicks his feet when he reads your blog.

Second of all: i remember reading (don't know where) a hc where Ghost would cane/bruise the bottom of johnny's feet and i'd just like to imagine what ghost would do if either johnny/reader (or both) were to try running away from him after he'd captured them or something.

I imagine a scene where, after thorough stalking his prey, he takes them from their home (or convinces them to leave, up to you) and once they're inside his place, he keeps them there isolated.

Time passes, and a few weeks after new years, he's called back in for mission/work (again up to your imagination, point is, he's gone for an extended period of time) and of course, Johnny tries to escape during his absence. He leaves wearing nothing but the clothes on his back and books it. Only, problem is he finds himself in the middle of a dense forest. Nowhere to run, and in the winter, where the sky is a constant grey and the light of the sun is hard to pinpoint, his sense of direction is skewed.

He travels as far as he can, trying to go upstream from a river he found nearby, but nothing comes of it. In the end, he finds himself alone and scared- night is falling, and he can hear the howls of something in the distance, but the longer he stays there the closer it gets.

he tries to find his way back, before the forest eats him up alive, and he nearly sighs in relief when he sees smoke in the distance, back where he came from. As he heads back, dread starts to fill him- he hadn't left the fireplace on when he left. It means only one thing: Ghost is back, and likely, he's realized johnny is missing. Johnny can only hope that Ghost has left the house in search of him, and that by the time he sneaks back in, he can play it off as having been hiding in the house.

Except Ghost is sitting on his leather chair, facing the door, book in hand but clearly awaiting him. Johnny can do nothing but stand there, cold, shivering, angry at the world and at himself. But it's even worse when Ghost puts the book down, and clicks his tongue, something he only ever does in dissapointment. Johnny, strangely, feels ashamed of what he did, at least for an instant. Like a dog misbehaving when his owner's not there.

then his temper manifests itself: why should he be ashamed?! He's been kidnapped by this lunatic and forced to live in this place. He has every right to be mad. So he lashed out, yells, even tries to attack ghost, but all the man does is calmly disarm him, putting him in a hold and using his weight to keep him on the floor, arms behind his back.

Ghost, as any owner worth their salt should do (Ghost has skimmed through Dog Training for Dummies once and never looked back) makes quick work of punishing Johnny for such drasticly negative behavior. Locking johnny in his crate everytime he b=misbehaves seems to be doing little to tamp down his negative energy, so instead Ghost will simply try the one thing that has never failed him: the cane.

It's tough, watching his puppy, tied up and whining, tears flowing down his face as his feet are hit time and time again, but Ghost solifies his resolve and keeps going until he thinks he's done enough. Johnny will learn that this was all for his sake, that it will get worse before it gets better.

Johnny seems to understand in the end, and never tries to do what he did again. Ghost won't lie and say that watching his boy crawl around on the floor like the dog he is meant to be, does not strike his heart with pure obsession love.

Johnny, for his part, learns that simply doing what Ghost asks of him is better than running away. Having his will bent to Ghost's liking is better than being broken.

i fucking LOVE the whole "owner canes his puppy's feet for walking thing"!! i almost wrote it for kinktober actually, but i was behind on my posts and day of i wasn't in the mood for severe sadism, so i went with voyeurism instead (i talked about it a little here and here hehe)

also im so so fully obsessed with this scenario?? trash babe you have GOT to start writing some of these thoughts and posting them in full somewhere because you have a FANTASTIC mind

like i would love love love to add to this... but babe you've sent me something fantastic here, i really don't want to add to it bc it feels so Whole. tysm for sending it in!!!!!

[limitlessgojo]

Chapter 23: The End of the Beginning [Last Chapter]

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Depictions of Blood and Violence, Death, Gore, Japanese Mythical Folklore, No Major Character Death, Slight Horror, War

Previous Chapter: Melting

Word Count: somewhere over 900 I’m pretty sure

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Notes: After 2 years, I finally came back to end this book. It’s been sitting on the back of my mind, but there was something off with the way I wrote the last chapter. Couldn’t get it to end the way I wanted it to. Every time I proof read and reread it, I just didn’t like the ending. And I’m not going to post something I’m unsatisfied with, especially for my first full blown long series. I also had a bit of a writer’s block along with personal matters ofc. But I returned to my home country after n number of years after the pandemic and I finally feel so much better (mentally and emotionally).

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @rayhaitani @lordguameow @track5enthusiast @nayydoesthings @a1hina @r-rose08 @cherriesanwine @felicityforyou @freewitchjellyfish

“Hey, spar with me sometime. Next time you come to visit,” Hiroki slaps Noritoshi on the back.

“Of course, it would be a pleasure.” Noritoshi was well aware of how capable the man was in battle.

Noritoshi had already said his goodbyes to the rest of your family that morning, and it was only you and Hiroki sending him off at the main gate. He was pretty much recovered from the war, despite not being at 100% yet.

It was only for a short period that you got back together and now he had to leave. Plus you wouldn’t be seeing him for a while. Not until classes resume. His eyes met yours, easily seeing through your line of thought.

“I’ll see you then. Next year.” He held up one hand. Eyes mirroring your own, bright yet already filled with longing.

“Next year.” You whispered back. As if next year isn’t just in a few days’ time. The anticipation of new things and new beginnings settled into your stomach.

◇◇◇

Noritoshi specifically chose a very sunny day to bring you to meet his clan. It was when he knew his father barely had anything to do. He made sure to butter up his step-mother and send some gifts ahead of time to ensure their good moods.

Nervous was an understatement as to how you were feeling at this very moment. Still you shoved it far down below, covering it up with all the information you got from Noritoshi about his family.

You were going to make this a flawless meeting as if your life depended on it. To which it kind of did.

You were touching up your make-up in the bathroom, incredibly focused on your thoughts, that you didn’t realize Noritoshi had entered. He leans against the wall to watch your every movement carefully.

The curves of your body. The way you move. The sweep of your brush against your eyelids, beautifully darkening the shade of your skin. The cursed energy like electricity around you, constantly flowing.

And bright red threads invisible to anybody else except for him, floating close to your body. They’ve become even more visible and prominent than before. Not that it bothered the both of you. In fact, it was a constant source of comfort. He found it cute that the strings appeared whenever you were within a 10 metre radius of him nowadays. His heart leaping fondly in his chest every time he feels your presence nearby.

‘From the first place, this whole soulmate bond was such a unique experience. Cursed technique crossovers, sharing of emotions, and now this red cord seems to be bordering on the edge of imaginary and physical.’ Noritoshi thought to himself.

He lifted a pinky and twirled it around the edge of one of the cords that were hovering around him. Instantly, the red cord tightened itself around his pinky and he could now feel it. Physically like a carbon wire against his skin.

He tugged on it and you immediately turned around upon feeling the pull in your chest.

“Did you call?” You asked.

Noritoshi only tilted his head and approached you with a smile. “Yeah. I just wanted to say,” He stood behind you, lightly placing his hands on your shoulders.

"You look perfect. It’s time to go." (He’ll figure out this cord later. Another quirk of the bond to study. For now you were front and center of his attention.)

You fidgeted in your seat knowing that you did your best to stall for time, even just for a few minutes to try and calm your nerves. You looked into the mirror, staring back at Noritoshi. Seeing the knowing glint in his eyes. You sighed and stood up to leave.

◇◇◇

The Kamo estate was large and grand. Sprawling with abundant land, trees, Koi fish ponds, bonsai, small pebble gardens and low rise traditional buildings, it was a sight to behold.

And it caused your head to swim with more anxiety than you’ve ever felt before. A warm hand holds yours tighter, and it gives you the courage to take one step inside the entrance.

◇◇◇

You felt weird, being under the scrutiny of so many people all at once. It wasn’t too out of the ordinary to be the center of attention as the daughter of the Tsuchimikado clan, but the gazes here were much more different. It’s as if the people are trying to find any weaknesses or faults from watching you walk. Suffocating.

Suddenly you wondered if your hair was done right. Your clothes were neatly pressed, but you had the itch to remove any dust or lint. Not that there was any.

The clan members stared holes into the side of your face, to the point that you've convinced yourself: You look absolutely hideous today. They all think you're ugly.

"You're beautiful, love."

You closed your eyes and couldn't stop the smile spreading across your face as Noritoshi linked his pinky with yours.

"You're gonna make me laugh, Toshi."

“That’s the purpose. Be at ease, no one will hurt you while I’m here.” His tone was cool and confident, letting you relax just an inch more.

◇◇◇

The meeting went smoothly. Everyone was incredibly polite. There was a stiffness in the air, but it was to be expected, with a first meeting with one of the Great Three Clans as important as this.

It was way more uptight than Noritoshi’s meeting with your family.

His step mother and father were as he described. Strict, expecting a level of obedience.

But they weren't harsh or restrictive. Just your typical Asian parents, wanting their children to be high achievers.

They were eager to ask you about your family, background, cursed technique, everything. You carefully answered as well as you could, remembering your well-rehearsed lines with Noritoshi.

His step-mother, as he already said, was slightly distant, but very courteous and civil. You can now see how she really treats Noritoshi like he is one of her own.

They look incredibly pleased with you and your capabilities so far. Noritoshi was right, it didn't really matter. Because you had the power they craved and were fated to be with their heir.

For all your annoyance at the way his father initially treated you like some kind of weapon or item to be acquired by the Kamo clan, you couldn’t deny it was too convenient for your relationship to have both sets of parents more than willing to let the both of you stay together.

Especially in a world where Jujutsu sorcerers expect to die early and put their lives on the line in every mission they take. It is an unforgiving task leaving many sorcerers lonely and isolated from the people they long to be with.

You’ll take what you can get and brush over the minor details. For now, there is, at the very least, no doubt that you’d end up being the strongest sorcerer once you enter the Kamo clan, and they’re treating you accordingly.

Though you disliked the fact that the attendants looked terrified and were overly formal with you. It will take them some time to get used to being a bit more casual, you thought with amusement.

◇◇◇

He led you to a small bench in front of a smaller Koi pond. Clean white and gray stones, very neat and polished, lined the edges. He gave your hand a squeeze.

A small table had been set up for the both of you. It was like a small picnic.

The view was surreal. You could see a lot of buildings just past the line of trees. The sun is due to set in half an hour.

"Are you really okay?"

You hummed quietly, “It wasn’t too bad today. Not that I’d expect any less from the Kamo family.

"I'm glad you like it here. Today was really good. They're much nicer to you than I expected," Noritoshi muttered.

Your head whipped to the side. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

"Not necessarily a bad thing. Just take it with a grateful heart. Anyways, there's nothing they can do, but to love and accept you. You're my future wife, and I'm the future clan head."

"Mmm…" You thought about that. It never really sunk in before until now that, yes you're eventually going to marry Noritoshi. And you want it with all your heart.

Wait.

"Toshi?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you… just now… was that a proposal?"

His eyes widened. "No. Not yet. I mean," he sighed. "I want you to be with me for a long time, but I wouldn't want a proposal to be so lackluster."

You grinned, unable to stop the smile from reaching your eyes. "Right."

"You're not gonna let this one go aren't you, love?"

"Nope."

◇◇◇

Noritoshi feels a surge of contentment and love rise in his chest as he watches you giggle uncontrollably. You’ve both settled back into a regular routine of having classes and smaller missions to exorcise curses alongside the other Kyoto Jujutsu High students. It felt refreshing to have more free time to play around.

You try to suppress your laughter, which you've been told numerous times sounds like a windshield wiper, but it was music to Noritoshi's ears.

"At least you've made up." Momo commented. You happily beamed at her, linking your arms together as you leaned against her side.

“Love is amazing isn’t it? Oh and about that book you recommended to me Momo senpai…” you chattered away distractedly.

"These lovebirds are way too obvious. Especially Mr. Vampire with the heart eyes right there." Mai muttered under her breath.

You turn to Noritoshi and indeed he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. Not even once.

"I'm not a vampire." He distractedly retorts at Mai, still not taking his eyes off you.

"That's a compliment you know. You deal with blood, have pale skin, and are suuuper beautiful. Vampires are so hot anyways. Guys and girls always stare at you, you know?" You teased.

"It's not me they're staring at when we go out on dates."

Noritoshi's eyes were so dark. Deep, that they almost looked obsidian. And yet they were still shining tenderly, with so much warmth.

And you once were intimidated so much by this man who looked incredibly reserved and stern. It was funny now that you think about it. He is like a puppy with you.

You both stared at each other for a while longer until Mai's irritated voice cut through the awkward silence, "Get a room!!!"

◇◇◇

It's a few days before the next school year starts.

It was Spring once more. You ran up to the rooftop of the tallest building, to find Noritoshi already there. Leaning against the rails to stare at the Cherry blossom trees. The petals were being gently blown around by the wind.

He didn't even stir even as they suddenly picked up whirled around him in a small Twister. Cursed energy spiking through the air, threading through the wind, petals, leaves, and small twigs.

You stepped up and wrapped your arms around him. He turns around to face you with a gentle and loving expression on his face.

He presses his lips against yours and holds you tightly against him. His body warm and strong against yours.

You pressed in closer to make sure you weren't dreaming, and as if he could read your thoughts, Noritoshi wrapped his arms around your legs and lifted you up. Lips never parting from one another's.

Exactly one year ago, you both met and saw a life of love through other people’s eyes.

The past molds into the present and soon becomes the future. The emotions that bled from your former souls bleed into your current lives and strengthens your bond.

But something new and beautiful blossomed in your relationship with Noritoshi. A quiet warmth and harmony that millions would give to have.

And Noritoshi finds himself at peace to live his life, seeing you not as Misaki through Hotaru’s eyes, but seeing you as yourself through his own. He's content. Just as you are.

TIME SKIP. A FEW MONTHS LATER.

"Hmmm? That Ryomen Sukuna has a vessel? And he's back?" Your gold and black dagger dangerously twirled around your fingers. Your latest gift from Noritoshi. A broken metal blade reforged with the use of kintsugi.

Noritoshi turned to you with a grim expression. Your eyes met his and you both were thinking about the same thing at this moment.

"I want him gone."

"But (y/n) chaaan~," Satoru's voice blasted from the speaker of your phone. "This is a once in a lifetime chance to make the vessel take in all the fingers, and then kill him. What do you think?"

"Satoru. We'd do anything that must be done to wipe that curse off the face of the earth. But wouldn't it be safer to kill the vessel outright?", you slammed down your dagger onto the table.

"Ehhh? Where's the fun in that? If we do this right, we can take all 20 fingers out in one go. And not to mention, I'd keep things under control in case anything happens."

"That's a murderer, a rapist, a criminal, I can't even begin to name everything he's done and you know it!"

"I told you”, there was a pause as Gojo claps his hands twice, “I'm gonna be the one to supervise this kid so you won't even have to worry about him getting loose. I'm the strongest after all."

Gears turn quickly in your mind. Satoru wasn’t completely wrong, but you had your doubts. "Fine. But if he goes wild, I'll be killing Itadori Yuuji."

"No need. I told you I'll be in charge, and you know I can hold him down in case anything happens. Ja-ne~~ bye byee~"

The call disconnects.

You closed your eyes in anger, "That son of a-" You hissed between your teeth.

Noritoshi moved to sit on the chair in front of you. You pressed your face against your palm, with one elbow propped up against the table.

"What are you planning to do?" He gently asks.

"I'll make sure that guy doesn't get within a foot near us. If he hurts you, I wouldn't hesitate to kill him."

You were no different from Gojo Satoru. You were both willing to make necessary sacrifices when it came down to it. Except this time he seemed reluctant to let the vessel of Sukuna go. Your mind started running with thoughts and theories for possible reasons why.

Noritoshi smiles at you, running a hand down the length of your arm. You raised your eyebrows at him.

He leans forward, just inches away from you. Lips a few centimetres apart. Eyes a warm chocolate, almost black. "It will be fine. You know I'd do the same and more for you, my heart."

There is a fire in his eyes. Noritoshi has been more vocal recently. More firm and confident. You decided that you absolutely loved that look on him.

“Yeah… After all, we stay together, Noritoshi.”

“Dead or alive.”

Your eyes widened at his words, but he didn't let you retaliate as he kissed you sweetly. You laughed against his lips as you agreed with him. “Yes of course, Toshi.”

Fate bound you to this man even past the hold of death.

Fin

[scorpio-karma]

Do you have any Unpopular vampire diaries opinions ?

I would honestly argue that all of my opinions of TVD are unpopular but that's simply because I don't like the show and hate like half the characters. Also the part of Fandom I participate in, the Bonnie Fandom, has similar feelings so what is considered an unpopular opinion there is a very different metric. As I've pointed out in some responses, we have completely divorced ourselves from canon, so a lot of things put out narratively in canon that most of the Fandom follows even with their AU's is completely out the window. I, and a lot of my mutuals, basically only seek to improve on the small bots we liked as a way to heal the trauma the show left us with.

So with that as our basis this is what I'd consider my unpopular opinions.

Kol is irrelevant as far as Originals go and I don't ship Kennett. This is one I stay mostly silent about because a) it was always a crack ship and b) I genuinely think it wouldn't be as popular of a Bonnie ship had Plec not brought them into an argument unprompted, but most of all I can't find it in me to care about the character enough even read in fics. I did a rewatch of the show to see if there were just episodes I missed where he was more prevalent than I remembered and nope. I didn't watch TO, so the idea of having to go to a whole different show to get the characterization of a character for a ship doesn't appeal to me. Do I think Kennett fans were done dirt by Kolvina? Yes, but that's a pattern with all of her ships going all the way back to season 1 and Tonnie shippers, so it ends up low on my list of grievances.

Bamon could have been a good ship. Now this is more of something unpopular with my main Fandom, Bonkai as it is her most popular ship at least quantity-wise, but it's mainly unpopular because most of us can't stand Damon. I will say, he's not even in my top ten favorite characters but I do love the natural chemistry between them and if they had followed a more logical route in season one they would have been at the very least interacting more in season 1 since his entire plan hinged on Bonnie and he literally tried to accomplish that by not speaking to her once...

There are some staple tumblrs here that are kind of like an authority in the Fandom as in they've written a lot of metas that most Bonnie fans agree with. There's one that I started following when i first got here that I will not name (no need to actually bring them in and I honestly haven't checked their blog in years) that I disagree with most of their takes. While they are a fan of Bonnie and Bonkai, their metas rely a little too much on chemistry. While that's a big part of what attracts me and people to a ship I personally think there needs to be more because a lot of their examples involve a very subjective perspective. They mostly started following a whole different tvd ship that I don't like so I didn't read too much into their metas, but I realized I didn't care for the takes with the ship I liked so I stopped following them altogether.

The Bonkai Fandom isn't dead. While there's a significant decline in content, myself include, I don't think we can truly call it dead because there are still people making content and consuming that content. Fandoms need the source material to keep alive, at least in the sense where there's still events and regularly updated post, but to say something is dead just downplays the people still contributing and still consuming. We're now just in our quality-over-quantity phase because I guarantee other tvd ships churning our content everyday is going to be rough.

[giggleeclown]

A/N: well, I finally wrote it! I don’t have a t-blog of my own to post fics (I don’t think I’ll make one because I really don’t like how everything can be deleted from existence so easily) but I have a Wattpad I post to occasionally. I like submitting the fics to other blogs though, just so more people get the chance to read it. I always submit the link to the fic on Wattpad as well, so here you go: https://www.wattpad.com/1415162684?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create_writer&wp_uname=cutefluff177

I hope you enjoy!

VIVI’S RESPONSE: I’ve had this submission in my ask box for a long time, and I’ve read it SO MUCH. But I’ve been hesitant to post it because I love it so much. I didn’t want it to get drowned in any other asks or posts of mine too soon. This is such a fantastic submission, Nonnie. Thank you so much for sharing. I am just at a loss for words because of how articulate, natural, genuine and charming your writing is. Everything here is so canon and in character. Please don’t stop. Please submit more. Even better, make your own blog. It would get so much attention, I’d make sure it did. Thank you so much for trusting me with submitting your fanfiction and sharing it to everyone. It means *so much.* 💕

"Y O U D B E D E A D W H E R E Y O U S T A N D."

The human's eyes widened and appeared to water for a moment, and in that moment, Sans realized he'd gone too far. His intention was never to make the human feel bad. He wasn't sure what his intention was if he was being honest. Originally, he just wanted to give the human the full story. He'd figured the kid deserved to hear the truth from him, but spelling it out like that was never part of the plan.

His tone of voice, his vacant eyes, they had been almost involuntary. In a second he went from seeing the kind human in front of him to seeing the blood stained, evil face he'd seen in his dreams. He was originally just going to mention the promise he made, but the emotions that spilled over from everything made him slip up.

"Hey, lighten up bucko," He tried to reach out with a gentle, hopefully calming voice. "I was only joking."

They wiped at their face and got up from their chair. Without a word the human started walking away.

"Kid, wait!" He got up, reaching out to them.

"I thought we were friends." The smallest, saddest voice Sans had ever heard said. Oh no, he'd really messed up.

"W-we are!"

He was met with only silence as the human sniffled. Sans couldn't have felt more awful. It wasn't the kids fault he could sense alternate timelines. Those versions of the human had messed up, done awful things, and fought maliciously. Not this one. This kid had done virtually nothing wrong compared to those other timelines. How could he have let his emotions get the better of him like that, saying that to the human completely unprovoked? Sure, he wanted to be honest with the kid, but that didn't mean having to go and say something like that.

"I-I... Okay." Sans knew just 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. "I'll go pay for dinner. Can you wait outside for me?"

The human nodded their head.

"Alright, I'll give you a moment." With that he got up and made his way to the counter to pay their check. Meanwhile, the human walked past him and out the door.

Sans was only glad there was no one near them to see what he'd said to the poor kid. After he paid the giant blob fish and grabbed a bottle of ketchup to go he made his way to the entrance of the hotel. A few feet from the door sat the human, knees up and crouched, hiding their face.

"Thanks for waiting for me." He smiled, reaching out a hand. The human looked up for a moment and, hesitantly, decided to take it. Sans helped them stand up. "Do you want to go over to the courtyard? They have some benches we can talk at. No shortcuts required."

"O-okay." They stared up at him. He'd never really taken the time to look them in the eye until this moment. Before, he'd tried not to pay attention, mostly because it brought back painful memories to the nightmares he'd been having. Now that he really looked though, the eyes that looked up at him were completely different from what he was expecting. They were gentle, kind, not like the rage filled ones he'd seen in his dreams.

The two walked over to the bench next to a statue of Mettaton, surrounded by shrubs and bushes also in the shape of Mettaton.

"I'm sorry, kid. I've always been kind of a bonehead, but I really messed up." He gave a dry, humorless laugh.

"I just don't get it." The human shook their head. "Did I do something wrong? I get that I'm not like you guys, and humans have been really bad to you, but I thought I was doing good."

"No, you haven't done anything wrong." He assured the child. "I guess I'm the one that still has some biases."

They wiped at their face, a few tears still remaining. "I understand, you know." They said with a sudden seriousness. "I know what would have happened if that woman had never talked to you. It just never really sunk in that you might have... That you..."

"Hey, enough of that. I shouldn't have even brought it up in the first place."

"But it's true."

He sighed. He didn't like admitting it, but he was at a loss for words. No witty joke or comeback, no pun or sarcasm. Well, he wanted to be honest with the human for once, he might as well pass his judgment a little bit early.

"I've seen you, kid. You always try to do the right thing, even when monsters make it difficult for you. That doesn't make you completely innocent or naive, but you always kept a certain tenderness close to your heart." He handed the human a paper towel he'd grabbed on the way out for them to dry their tears.

They took it, wiping at their face, then crumbling it up and putting it in their pocket.

"Whatever might or might not have happened if things were different, I want you to know I'm glad things turned out this way."

The human took a breath and smiled. They really were resilient. Of course Sans already knew that, watching their every fight, but he'd never seen how quickly the human was able to bounce back emotionally. He didn't know much about their personality in general.

All this time the human had been so caught up in being kind to all the monsters they encountered, getting to know them, becoming friends with them, but Sans never extended the same courtesy back. Sure, he kept an eye out for them. He already knew they could just load their recent save file if something bad happened, but that didn't mean they couldn't feel the pain with every fight they lost. He'd mostly just checked to see what the human chose to do, all so he could pass judgment on them at the end of their journey, just like every other timeline of himself did. However, he never got to know the kid on a personal level, despite the time they had spent together.

"You know, you're a really tough kid. How old are you anyway?" He asked just before taking a swig of ketchup.

"I turned 8 a few weeks ago."

Sans nearly choked. He banged his fist against his chest, coughing and sputtering. Up until then he thought the kid was way older. Of course he had no idea what a human child was supposed to look like, or how tall they were supposed to be, but he never thought the kid was that young. Though, the standards between humans and monsters were a bit different. Some monsters could live hundreds of years, usually reaching adulthood much later in life than humans. To some monsters, 8 was practically still a toddler.

"Sans! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just went down the wrong pipe." He lied as his coughing fit settled down. "Geez kid, you must be pretty tall for your age."

The human raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm pretty average. I think I am at least."

Wow. His knowledge on humans was worse than he thought. The kid had always seemed so mature, from how they talked to others, to how they treated everyone with empathy, and how they handled situations that even some adults would have trouble with. It was hard to believe that in other timelines, a human that age could be capable of everything they'd done.

"I think you're the first person that asked how old I was."

"Really?" He supposed he wasn't the only one that didn't really get to know the human more personally. Or at least the first to ask these questions.

"You know, no one down here has asked me what my name is." They sighed. "Everyone kind of just started calling me 'the human.'"

That couldn't be right. Not a single one of the monsters they'd met had asked their name? Although, thinking back on it, he'd never taken the time to ask himself. Even Papyrus chose to refer to them as 'the human'.

"Well, let me be the first to ask. What is your name?"

A long pause followed, as if they weren't actually expecting him to ask. "I'm Frisk."

"That's a cool name. Pleased to finally make your acquaintance." He held out his hand for Frisk to shake. They took it, only to hear a long, drawn out farting noise come from his hand. For some reason they were surprised, even though this was one of the first pranks Sans ever pulled on them. They gave a snort of laughter before covering their smile.

"Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," he said with a wink.

"Do you carry that thing with you everywhere?"

"Hey, I'm always prepared for a comedy emergency. Just in case I need to cheer up a friend."

Frisk's smile was small, but it was a sign that Sans was winning them over.

"How come you never told anyone this stuff?" He continued. "Usually you're supposed to say your name when you introduce yourself."

"I- don't know," Frisk admitted. "I've never been good at that kind of stuff."

"You mean like talking to people?"

"Yeah." They turned their eyes away, seemingly shy about the fact.

"Well, you've done really well talking to monsters." He patted them on the shoulder.

Frisk's smile grew. "I guess I have. I never thought about it, but you guys just feel easy to talk to."

The kid really had grown during their journey. Sans felt a sense of pride looking at them. Though they were bruised and battered from the adventure so far, they never let it change who they were. Sans felt foolish for not trying to get to know them sooner, all because of some bad dreams. And what better way to bond with someone than telling them bad jokes?

"Hey kid, do you know how many beans are in a can?"

They thought for a moment, then shook their head no.

"239, any more and they'd be 'too farty'."

They broke out into giggles. "Too farty? That's so dumb."

"Yeah, that one's pretty silly." He chuckled.

Frisk took a breath to stop laughing. "You know, I stopped by the snail farm earlier and did the snail race. I tried taking off my snails shell to make it go faster, but it just made it more 'sluggish'."

Sans was the one to laugh this time, snickering into his hand. "Kid, that was so bad. I'm proud." It was reassuring to see just how quickly the kid bounced back. Maybe things weren't unsalvageable after all.

"I'm still sorry about what happened earlier," he sighed, "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Frisk considered it. "We could keep telling each other bad jokes."

He smiled, relief washing over him, both because Frisk was willing to forgive him, and because he loved telling these jokes. "Bud, you have no idea how happy that makes me."

They kicked their legs giddily. "Oh, I've got one! What is a pirate's favorite letter?"

"Pft, too easy kid. It's arrrrr."

"Nope. It's the C."

Sans face palmed and gave a huff of laughter. "You got me there."

Frisk beamed with pride. Sans never thought he would find someone else that was so proud of their bad puns. Well, other than his friend behind the ruin door.

"Okay, my turn." He continued. This was one of his favorite jokes to annoy Papyrus with, or at least get him to laugh. "How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?"

They were oblivious to where Sans was going with this, even as he leaned just a tad bit closer.

"I don't know."

"Tentacles!" He suddenly poked at the humans side, and that was all it took to get a squeak out of them. "Oh?" He asked with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I guess it doesn't take nearly as many to get you to laugh."

Frisk giggled nervously and wrapped their arms around themself.

"I didn't know humans were ticklish. It's a good thing you didn't let anyone know, they could have been a tickle monster." He quipped.

"No way," they insisted, "there's no such thing as a tickle monster." As far as they had seen. There was still a large portion of the underground they hadn't gotten to explore. For all they knew, a tickle monster could very well be real.

"You want to bet?" Sans wiggled his fingers toward them. "Unfortunately for you, I'm the biggest tickle monster you'll ever meet."

The excited expression on Frisk's face reminded him of when his brother was little. He used to love playing tickle monster, and Sans remembered his giggles along with him halfheartedly swatting away his tickling hands. Frisk actually reminded him a lot of his brother. Both were kind and considerate, both were strong fighters but never had it in their heart to actually hurt anyone. The one main difference was that Frisk seemed to like his jokes.

"Nahaha, I don't believe you!" The human stubbornly shook their head.

"Oh, you don't, do you?" He teased, his hands drawing closer. "Well, I guess I'll just have to convince you!"

He finally skittered his fingers across the human's sides, causing them to flail their arms as they squealed.

"I guess I'm really tickling your funny bone, huh kid?" He grinned as he wiggled his fingers on their side. Frisk squirmed and swatted away the skeleton's hands.

"Sahahahans! It tickles!"

"Really?" He chucked. "I never would have guessed."

Frisk was a kicker, so much so that Sans had to back himself up a bit to avoid getting kicked. "Geez, are all humans this squirmy?" He tried to hide the amusement in his voice, but the endearing giggles coming from the human were hard to not find adorable.

"Nohohohoho! I'm nohohohohot!" They denied even as they were still flailing.

"You're not?" He teased, "Oh, I get it, you're not actually a human. You're a wiggly worm." He made sure Frisk saw his hands make claw-like motions before tickling at their sides again. The playful jester seemed to only make the tickling worse, as Frisk's laughter turned more high pitched. Though they shook their head back and forth, they made no real effort in pushing him away.

"Hey, I've got more jokes for ya." He said without skipping a beat. "Why can't you hear a pterodactyl go to the bathroom?"

Frisk was in no position to ask 'why', but that wouldn't stop them from trying. "Whahaha-why?"

"Because, the P is silent."

It was childish, but the silliness of the joke would have already been enough to make Frisk laugh. "Thahahahahats so- ahahAH!" Sans quickly shifted to tickling under their arms. They tried blocking the tickles, but found that they'd accidentally trapped Sans's hands in place. He hardly even needed to try tickling them, all he had to do was wiggle his fingers.

"Hey, I'm alright giving you a hand every now and then, but I'm going to need them back at some point." Papyrus used to fall for the same trap all the time. He could never lift his arms once Sans's hands had been trapped in place, making it all too easy to completely wreck him with tickles.

"Ihihits not my fault!" Frisk exclaimed through their fits of giggling. After a minute, they finally found the strength to lift their arms, and Sans took that as his que to change spots.

"Geez kid, I know these jokes are real rib ticklers, but come on." At that he switched to scribbling along their ribs, driving home the pun.

"SAHAHA-SANS! NOhohohoho!" They helplessly squirmed as he took time to individually tickle between each rib, another skill he'd picked up from his tickle fights with his brother. The human was certainly determined, but even they would need a break from the tickle monster eventually. Right on que, Frisk decided to tap out.

"Ohohohokay! Mehehehercy!" A call for mercy from Frisk meant it was serious. The kid had shown mercy to every monster they'd fought so far, Sans figured he should follow their example.

"Alright, I'll spare ya." He chuckled, releasing the giggling human from his clutches.

Frisk's laughing fit slowly subsided as they held their sides. "You were right, Sans. You are a real tickle monster!"

He grinned at the proclamation. Seems he hadn't lost his touch. It had been a while since he and his brother played that game, but now it felt as though no time had passed. He was still a big brother, that instinct never left him.

"Hey, can skeletons be ticklish too?" Frisk asked.

The grin on Sans face quickly dropped. Oh yeah, he'd forgotten that usually in their game, Papyrus would seek retaliation. He'd always let his brother get some revenge, it was just the principle of the game, but he'd also forgotten just how nerve wrecking the anticipation of being tickled could be.

"Uh, well you see-EEK"

Frisk hadn't actually tickled him yet, all they had done was get ready to poke his side. As soon as Sans even noticed the human was drawing close he flinched and yelped.

Frisk couldn't help but laugh. "Sans, I didn't even do anything."

"H-hey, buddy, l-let's talk about this," he nervously stammered, already guarding his sides.

"So, you're saying skeletons can be ticklish?"

"Nahahahaha! Frisk, whahahahait!" They just wiggled their fingers slightly closer to him.

"Come on, Sans, you said you wanted to make it up to me." Frisk smirked. "I'm the tickle human now!"

That smug kid. Of course they would play that card. He supposed it was only fair, since he was the one who initiated the game in the first place, but why did he have to be so ticklish? He had a knack for making people laugh with his jokes, but he was a bit more reserved when it came to his own laughter. He supposed laughing was another form of vulnerability, one others didn't get to see from him often.

Again, looking at Frisk he was reminded of his brother, eagerly awaiting taking some playful revenge. Papyrus was one of the few people he trusted getting close to, and despite his memories of humans from other timelines, he felt that same bond towards Frisk, like a new little sibling. As long as the kid was having fun, he supposed he could handle it.

At least he thought he could, before Frisk finally poked and prodded his stomach. "Pfft! Bahahaha! Wahah-wahahait! I wahahasnt ready!" How embarrassing. Frisk barely had to lift a finger and he was already a mess. He was hoping the human wouldn't realize that they could tickle his stomach, but that poke had sealed his fate.

"Ready or not, the tickle human is after you!" Frisk seemed to pounce as they scribbled across his torso. Sans couldn't hope to pretend it wasn't getting to him as his booming belly laughs filled the air.

It hardly made sense to Frisk how Sans had a belly in the first place. In their mind, a skeletons' clothes should hang around their bones, but it seemed like magic somehow gave his body a more physical form. They had no idea how that worked, but they were grateful for it. After all, it seemed to make him all the more ticklish.

"Wow, you're super ticklish!" The human exclaimed. "Are all skeletons like this, or are you just extra ticklish?"

"Stahahahap making fun of me!"

"Making fun of you?" they pretended to be offended. "I'm asking a real question."

"NAHAHAHAHAHA FRISK- NOHOHO!" He gawked as they suddenly kneaded his stomach.

"Do you mean no, all skeletons are this ticklish?" They suddenly scratch along his ribs, resulting in a yelp. "Or do you mean no, you're just that ticklish?"

Sans's deep belly laughs turned into snickering as he tried to respond. "No-nohohoho nohohohot either!" As he tried to catch his breath, a loud, unmistakable snort came from him.

Frisk didn't mean to laugh, but seeing the skeleton that was normally so composed be turned into a giggling, snorting mess was something they weren't expecting. "Skeletons can snort, too?"

"Ihihihi dohohohon't- nahahahahaha!" In trying to deny the fact that he could, in fact, snort, he left himself open to a sudden bombardment of kneading and scribbling on his belly. His clothes didn't seem to do much to lessen the ticklish shock, only sending him into even higher pitched laughter. Trying to block the human's hands, he fell to his side, allowing Frisk to tower over him and release their final tickle attack. They scratched and spidered everywhere they could reach. His sides, belly, ribs, nothing was safe as he could only throw his head back in laughter.

"AHAHAHALL RIHIHIHIGHT! I gihihihive, mehehehercy!" He gave in and grabbed hold of their hands, finally pushing them away. "Youhuhuhu little gremlin." His final giggling fit only gave way to more snorting, making Frisk laugh along with him.

They tried to giggle through an apology, unsuccessfully as they doubled over.

"You're a real menace, you know that?" Though Sans shook his head, he was still grinning.

"Saha-sorry, I didn't mean to push."

"Pft, please," He said as he sat up straight, "it takes more than that to take me down." The last thing he wanted was for the kid to think he couldn't handle something as silly as being tickled.

"Really? You seemed pretty ticklish to me. Way too ticklish!"

"Alright, alright," he nudged Frisk's shoulder playfully. "Ya got me, kid."

They kicked their legs in delight. "The tickle human wins!"

Sans patted the human's head. "Hee, looks like someone's fully cheered up."

He was glad the human was a pacifist, otherwise he might have been in trouble there. While he was reflecting, his watch suddenly rang out an alarm. Ah, his break was technically over. Though he didn't really care about going back to work, Frisk seemed to notice as they glanced over at the time.

Nodding their head, Frisk stood up. "I guess I need to get going. Alphys is probably wondering where I've been."

Even though Sans knew they would have to carry on with their journey eventually, he found himself not wanting to say goodbye. He knew Frisk would still have many trials to face, eventually leading them to their ultimate choice. Either they would defeat the king and get to go home, or they would give up their soul. Sans tried not to dwell on it too much, but it was hard not too when Frisk was right in front of him.

Maybe that's the real reason he didn't get to know the kid earlier. Getting attached would make it all the harder to let them go, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to lose something like that again. But the prophecy was already in motion. Even if he wanted to convince the kid to stay, like he'd attempted to do at the restaurant, they were too determined for their own good. As hard as it was, he would have to let the human return to their adventure.

When he turned to say his goodbyes, until he would inevitably meet the human again in the judgment hall, he found himself feeling different than he'd expected. Instead of sadness, there was a sense of hopefulness. Even though it seemed impossible, even if it really was impossible, somewhere in his heart he knew Frisk would make the right choice in the end, and they would be okay.

He stood up, a confident smile on his face. "Good luck, kiddo." Again, he held out his hand for Frisk to shake.

"I'm not falling for that a third time." Frisk rolled their eyes.

Sans dropped the whoopie cushion. "Eh, worth a shot." He winked.

Frisk giggled. "Bye Sans. I hope I see you again soon."

Sooner than they'd think, that's what Sans wanted to say. Instead he just gave a wave, then watched the human as they made their way back into the hotel, where they would continue their journey into the core.

It would be a tough road ahead, for both of them. But this newfound hope seemed to give him his own determination. No matter how this ended, he believed in Frisk, and he was glad he'd finally gotten the chance to know them.