#i am not a fan of new dawn

[inkydoc]

okay, finished the main story and most of the sidequests of the Horizon franchise, and now i feel that amazing media is over emptiness that i so hate :"D

i had a lot of fun, haven't been able to focus on something like this for ages - wish i could replay the games, especially HZD for the first time, it's such a magical feeling and i haven't had it since my first toe-dips into botw. but this time it was even more intense, like this kind of post-apocalypse is just perfect for me, and the intrigue about the Old World was so strong it gripped me by my hand and never let go. i do feel like this mystery/strange old world part of the storytelling was a lot stronger in HZD, but i guess as Aloy learnt more and got used to stuff it was inevitable that some of the mysteries would be less difficult to piece together, or so strange to the characters. the thick plottened a lot regardless, and since i'm not really good at solving mystery stories it was perfectly paced for me, even if others would feel it to be predictable, i had fun being in the dark and only guessing half of the stuff right :D

also the games are fun to play and very pretty to look at, the world design and the machines are cool and i'm glad they pulled the trigger on the huge Chekov's gun looming over the maps, even though that fight made me sweat like crazy XD

i got a great many thoughts and feelings, but for now the most important question i have is Horizon 3 when and will it combine the strengths of the two games for an even greater story and gameplay experience - like if HZD had the climbing stuff from HFW it would be the perfect game for me (no i am not salty at all about the weird climbing in HZD, why do you ask)

[jongace]

so.. she left dawn for that ???

[todayisafridaynight]

this isn't related to rgg at all but finding out you're also a fire emblem fan was great... first the mention of the ike figure then the insane por prices LMAO? i had no idea... what games have you played?

Back In My Day i was known as ‘the eliwood/elihec guy’ and on occasion The Ike Guy LOL but yeah…. Guilty as charged……

As for the games ive played ive played Shadow Dragon (DS remake), Shadows of Valentia, and then FE6-FE3H + FEW (minus Heroes of Light and Shadow)

im an asshole for playing on authentic software hence why i skipped out on FE1-FE5 but maybe one day ill stop being annoying and pick them up on an emulator. Or IntSYS remakes them <- doubtful (well. The rest of the JP-exclusive games anyway lol)

[trashbaget]

oh—ohh-kay i see, carlise cullen is valentine morgenstern

[lunastar92]

[lalunanymph]

I BET ON LOSING DOGS

୨୧ an unexpected surprise throws a wrench in your relationship with ken

✧.* ken sato x fem!reader, reader is an uriko (beer girl for japanese baseball games), unprotected s/ex, accidental pregnancy trope, angst with comfort, reader gets harassed, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, mentions of injuries, slight ooc!kenji but this is MY interpretation of him, emi makes an appearance, talks about fatherhood, relationship context, flashback heavy, 8k+ words i am so sick for this man

✧.* dawn says: i am absolutely in love with this pathetic milf </3

Life as the girlfriend of Japan’s number one baseball player wasn’t as easy as people think it is. 

The news portals and papers call you a modern day Cinderella, swept from her life of being a simple beer girl, and right into the arms of Japan’s best player, Ken Sato.

Looking back, you never thought you would catch his eye. 

You, a simple Uriko girl trying to get enough commission to pay off your literature degree at a community college, and him, one of the best baseball players to ever grace Japan’s shore. The both of you were a mismatch made on the verdant fields of the biggest game in Ken Sato’s life—and you will never forget the day you first met him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the game will begin shortly! Please get to your seats and hang on tightly for the match of your life.” 

The announcer’s voice booms across the stadium, echoing the cries and cheers from over 10,000 baseball fans coming to see this legendary playoff between the Giants and the Tigers. 

Working as an Uriko girl—or better known as a baseball girl—came with plenty of challenges. 

There were the heavy bags full of beer that you had to carry up and down the stands, sometimes weighing up to 10kg. The smiles you always have on, the makeup you wear to hide your eyebags from working two part time jobs so you can afford to pay off your literature degree; sweltering heat and a loud, rowdy crowd fuelled by beer from the other keg girls working this cutthroat job. 

Many of them were wannabe idols who perfected the art of cultivating a following on social media and had regulars in the palm of their hands. Only a few handful shared the same fate as you did. 

The truth was, you thought it was just another ordinary day at work when you overhear someone whispering excitedly behind the stands.

“I heard Ken Sato has come out of his break to play this game.” 

Your attention slips from adjusting the straps of your beer keg and you try to listen in on their conversation. 

“He is so cute,” one girl with braided pigtails swoons. 

“Totally,” another agrees, wearing a baseball cap backwards to show off her petite features and pouty lips. “And he’s never dated anyone since coming back to Japan. Maybe one of us could change that for him.”

She giggles, as if it's the funniest joke she’s ever told. 

You try hard not to roll your eyes. A man like Ken Sato would never go for one of these girls. He was the type to exclusively date models and actresses, not struggling Urikos selling beer on the stands.

But, you don’t dash their hopes, and you follow the rest of them in a line, plastering on a smile and mustering up the courage to charm potential buyers into being regulars.

“Ladies and gentlemen—let’s put our hands together for the Giants!”

The roar of the crowd behind the doors shakes through your sneakers, in tandem with the tripling speed of your heartbeat. Electricity sparks through the air, and you can feel it in between your teeth when the stadium doors open and everyone rushes forward, pushing you along the stream of girls ready to break their sales target.

“And Sato-san steps foot into the pitch!”

You step out of the shadows, into the piercing bright light of the open air stadium, its magnetic dome rippling above. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Ken Sato is back in his element!” 

You take a deep breath and catch a man’s eye. He nods at you and you smile, making your way towards him with a red cup in hand and frozen beer on your back ready to be poured.

Let the game begin. 

 “Ladies and gentlemen, Ken Sato is back in his element!” 

The announcer’s voice booms across the stadium, echoing the cries and cheers from over 10,000 baseball fans coming to see this legendary playoff between the Giants and the Tigers. 

It’s the game of his life, and to say that Ken is nervous would be an understatement. He twists the bat in his hands, adjusts his batting helmet and steps onto the pitch. 

“Oi, Sato—remember, don’t lose your cool,” Coach Shimura sternly warns him before he enters the game, flinty eyes never once softening even when Ken shoots him a reassuring smile. 

“I got this in the bag, coach. Just wait and see.”

Shimura doesn’t scoff, though the corners of his mouth lifts slightly. After months of watching him play in the leagues, the older man can be assured of his star player’s credibility.

Giving him a two finger salute, the young man picks up his favorite bat and high tails it to the edge of the pitch. 

The crowds cheer, their cries reverberating right into his bones. He’s focused, eyes on the pitcher who assesses him from head to toe like he’s vermin on the bottom of his shoes. Ken resists the urge to smirk behind his visor, eyes on the ball and head in the game. 

“Sato! Sato! Sato!” 

He tunes out the cheers, breathing deeply when the pitcher winds his arm back, and the ball goes flying. Narrowing his entire mind on the incoming white blur, he bats and it collides with the hardwood, flying off into the distance. 

“And Sato nails it right out of the park!” 

“Here we go,” Ken mutters under his breath, lurching across the bases until he finally hits a home run. 

The crowd swells like his erratic heartbeat, cheering out his name. Ken gives them a wave, his handsome face plastered all over the big screens, and in the front of the stands, right in the VIP center, his father whoops, raising his cane in exuberance.

Just the sight of the old man fills him with warmth, and Ken doubles back, about to return to his position when a movement on the second bleachers catches his attention.

His sharp, keen eyes catch sight of a man pushing an Uriko girl, goading her on as she backs away, apologizing profusely. He pushes her again, and she stumbles back, dangerously close to the edge of the staircase where she could take a tumble and break her neck.

Ken doesn't know what compels him to lurch right towards her, jumping over the barricade and straight into the stands, much to the crowd’s horror. 

“... you rejected me over and over again…”

“I’m sorry but this is just my job!” 

The red-faced man puffs his chest, and if looks could kill, the poor beer girl would’ve been dead twice over. He’s twice as big as her, and the other spectators are too afraid to jump right in due to his sheer size. But, that’s never stopped Ken Sato before—in fact, bigger opponents were his speciality.

“Oi! Back away from her,” he growls, and before anyone can blink, he’s grabbing the poor, shaken girl and shielding her behind his body. 

The crowds are murmuring, the commentators having a field day announcing every movement of his diversion from the main game. The referee repeatedly blows his whistle, but Ken ignores it, his instinct to protect the weak more important than some league title.

Shimura muscles his way through the crowd, and for a second, Ken thinks he’s gonna blow up on him when the older man glares at the bulky man. 

“Get out of here before I call security on you,” he sneers. “Bullying some poor girl because of your delusions. Tch. Away with you!”

The onlookers jeer him, and he has no choice but to scurry away from the game, tail tucked in between his legs unless he wants to face the wrath of every Ken Sato fan. 

Later that day when you’re washing your face in a nearby restroom, trying hard not to have a full on breakdown that your reputation and sales were ruined, you stumble into a familiar figure who gives you a once over, his mellow voice resonating through you.

“Hey—you’re the beer girl from before, right?”

Ken takes one look at your red-rimmed eyes and clicks his tongue. “Ah. Crap. Must’ve been a horrible experience for you, huh? You’re making me feel bad, angel. You wanna get some food and then we can talk about it?” 

Sliding your eyes over his handsome face, you’re momentarily stunned by those high cheekbones and deeply unnerving violet eyes. His shapely lips and messy dark hair, coupled with his tall, slender build and broad shoulders, makes you suddenly realize that those girls outside the stadium doors were right.

Ken Sato is so cute. 

“I-I—” you stammer, and flush, looking away. Did he just call me angel?

He gives you a sheepish smile, devoid of the cockiness and pride you’ve heard most baseball players possess. 

“Sorry—too forward? I heard girls in Japan were more shy and reserved so you don’t have to say ‘yes’ if you’re uncomfortable—”

“No!” You exclaim, and then start to panic when the rejection settles in for him. “I mean—yes! Yes. I would like to get some food. With you,” you add lamely. “A-are we going now?”

Catching himself before he bursts into laughter, Ken nods, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sure. I know a great ramen place.”

“Sold,” you say, a smile playing in the corners of your lips. 

Maybe you might’ve messed up your commission for the week and would have to defer your dorm payment for another month, but none of it matters to you right now.

All you could think about was how sweet it would be if you could bring back the smile on Ken Sato’s face—perhaps make him laugh for real this time. 

“Let’s go for dinner, then,” he gestures for you to follow him, and you swear there are stars in your eyes; you can’t stop staring at him. “What’s your name, by the way?” 

“Y/N,” you mumble, and blink when he extends his hand, an easygoing grin on those perfect lips.

“I’m Ken. Sato Ken.” 

I know, you want to say, but tame down the fangirling, taking his hand. His palm is smooth, but his fingers have calluses on them from one too many rough tumbles on the pitch.

“Y/N,” he turns your name over in his mouth and you think it’s never sounded as beautiful as it does now. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You let go of his hand, feeling his warmth sinking past your skin, making your heartbeat kick up a notch. 

“It’s nice to meet you, too… Ken.”

The rest, as they say, is history. 

His large palm smoothes down your tummy, drawing you from the brink of sleep and back into a barely illuminated room. 

You crack your eyes open, one lid at a time, feeling him pushing your hair aside to kiss down the nape of your neck.

“Mhm,” your boyfriend’s sleep-drenched voice, still husky and rough, makes something deep inside of you throb. “Morning, angel. Did you sleep well last night?” 

Stifling a yawn, you nod, much too comfortable in his luxurious king-sized bed. Since coming clean on the dating rumors, Ken had whisked you away from your cramped dorm room to live with him right on the Azabu hills in his expensive, high-tech mansion.

You still went to school and did your assignments, but the biggest difference was you didn't have to worry about food or accommodation like before. 

“Like a log.” You lean into his embrace, loving how sturdy and warm his chest is against your back, making you feel protected and safe. 

“Good morning, Kenji and Y/N. Shall I prepare breakfast for the both of you? Eggs and toast or some pancakes?” 

Mina’s robotic voice chirps from somewhere behind Ken, and you feel him grab a pillow, tossing it over his shoulder. It thuds onto the floor, and you don’t have to look to know that the Sato family’s robot assistant has deftly avoided it.

“Give us some space, Mina,” Ken groans, burying his face into your hair. “It’s cuddle time. We’ll call you when we need you.”

“Alright. But, don’t forget that you have an interview with Tokyo Today at 11AM. Enjoy your morning, Kenji and Y/N.” 

You muffle the urge to laugh, turning around and drinking in the sight of his hazy, adoring violet eyes and sleepy face. Booping the tip of his nose with your index finger, you click your tongue. “Don’t be too mean to Mina. She was just doing her job.”

He grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek, breathing in a deep sigh. “Not my fault someone’s being so enticing today.”

“How can I be enticing?” You tease. “I’m just laying right next to you.”

Ken rolls his eyes, drawing the blanket down to expose your naked shoulder. “Um, duh. My super cute girlfriend is naked in bed with me. What else do you think is on my mind?” 

He loves how your nose crinkles when you laugh, fighting against the urge to kiss you all over for being so adorable.

You place a palm flat on his chest, exerting the slightest bit of pressure and he yields, shifting onto his back. The look of adoration on his face never wanes when you straddle his lap, your hair falling across his face. He pushes it aside with surprising tenderness, a huge palm cupping your face as he strokes the fullness of your mouth with his thumb. 

“I love you, you know that?” 

You kiss the pad of his thumb, basking in his adoration and your pure devotion for him.

“I know.”

Ken arches one dark brow. “Not gonna say it back? How rude.”

You giggle at his petulance, gathering his hands into yours and leaving soft kisses on his knuckles. Ken sucks in a sharp breath when you guide his hands to your chest, encouraging him to palm your heaving breasts. Those violet eyes darken with desire, shooting a dirty thrill right up your spine.

“Already so filthy in the early morning.” He doesn’t protest when you lift your hips, finding his stiffening length and giving it a few good pumps before lining it up to your soaked entrance.

“Just for you,” your feathery whisper gets him harder. 

Tease. You take him inch by inch, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to keep from springing a high-pitched whine when your velvet walls choke his length. 

Your tender nipples turn into hard nubs underneath his palms, the planes of your body a feast for his eyes. 

Kenji thinks he’s never seen such perfection up close.

His large palms fold around your hips, and you let him guide you up and down his cock; controlling the speed and depth, completely pliant in his grasp. 

Ken makes love to you exactly like how he plays on the field: focused, determined and with a firm grip. 

Oh, baby. You mewl, crumpling forward so he can catch you, strong arms vining around your shivering form. 

The scent of sex and skin permeates the room, and you’re close enough that you’re starting to see stars behind your closed eyes. 

Baby, I can’t hold back, he grunts. Need you to come with me—for me. Let’s do it together, okay? 

Your thighs begin to tense, head tipping back. 

His violet eyes darken imperceptibly, drinking you in.

Ken Sato is so fucking in love with you he doesn’t know what to do with himself if you ever got hurt. 

Your soul reaches out to twine with his, your bodies impossibly close until you’re sure your skin is melting into his. 

A burst of white light rocks your entire world, and your universe goes black, filled with only the sensation of his lips on yours and his warmth filling you up.

Ken holds you tightly in the seam of his embrace, kissing your hair and rubbing his cheek all over you like an overgrown cat. You giggle and he joins you, hazily laughing at your hair poking out everywhere.

The moment doesn’t last because Mina pops her head back in, clearing her robotic throat.

“Kenji. 11AM. You have half an hour left to get ready.”

He groans, head thumping back onto the pillows, both your bodies hidden under the blankets so Mina can’t see what he’s been up to, though you’re pretty sure the super smart computer can sense the pheromone shifts in the air.

“Fine. Fine.”

Gently, he nudges you off of him, giving you a kiss on the forehead. Rummaging inside his night stand, he procures a sleek black card and hands it to you without a second thought.

“I’m gonna be busy all day, angel face, so I can’t keep you entertained.” His boyish grin sends flutters in your belly, making you instantly smile. “Go buy something nice and have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

You nod and pull him in for another quick kiss; this time, Mina hovers by the doorway, her thin robotic arms arranged like a disappointed mother’s hands on her hips.

“Kenji—”

“Coming, coming,” he groans, and slips on his pajama pants and shirt, giving you a wink.

“Dinner tonight, angel face?”

“Like you need to ask.” You blow him a kiss and he catches it, pressing his palm flat over his heart, simultaneously walking backwards out of the bedroom. 

Once he turns the corner, you exhale, unable to scrub off the lovesick look on your face. 

Bringing his pillow to your face, you inhale the soft scent of his shampoo, forgetting the card and just wanting to bask in his presence a little while longer.

After a day of interviews, Kenji can’t wait to see you again.

He’s asked the chefs to prepare something special for you, a chirashi bowl and your favorite mochi to welcome you back from a day of shopping and classes.

His front door beeps open and you waltz right in, though he can tell something’s off. Your smile’s a little too tight in the corners, and he isn’t sure if the lighting is playing tricks or if your eyes are red-rimmed.

“Baby—”

“Ken, I need to tell you something.”

The truth was you’ve been feeling off the whole week—sleeping in too much, having rapid mood swings, going light-headed whenever you stood up too fast. But, the final strike was when you walked into a ramen shop this afternoon for a quick bite and literally gagged at the smell of freshly cooked rice—which never happens because you love rice more than life. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Fumbling in your backpack, you don’t look up, rummaging for the small test which has changed your life in a matter of minutes. You bring it to him, noticing his wide eyes and bloodless lips; looking like he’s gone into shock.

He plucks the test from your hands, scrutinizing the double pink lines that cut through him with more pain than any Kaiju claw ever could. 

Without another word, he sets the test down, storming past you and grabbing his leather jacket.

Your world falls apart at the seams when he can’t even look at you, the tufts of dark hair falling across his face being angrily pushed back. Agony rips through your soul, leaving you shell shocked at his reaction, your hands falling uselessly to your side.

“Ken—”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he cuts you off. 

You hear a mechanical whirl behind you, Mina coming to your rescue.

“Ken? Aren’t you going to have dinner with Y/N—?”

“Later,” he snaps at her, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen your tender-hearted boyfriend look this angry; a dark cloud hangs over him, thundering across this room and bringing you right into the eye of his disappointment.

Tears sting behind your lids, and you dash at those pesky droplets before they could fall, running after him.

“Ken, I’m sorry—”

“I need time to think.”

You grab at his sleeve, wishing he would just tell you what was bothering him.

“About what?” you shout in despair.

You’re being unreasonable with his request for space, but you can’t see beyond the fear of losing him after you’ve already lost so much: your parents to a Kaiju attack, your sister to a painful drug addiction. 

You can’t lose Kenji, too.

He tugs at his sleeve back, nearly making you stumble and fall flat on your face. You catch yourself in time, staring at him in pure shock.

Ken curses under his breath, and despite his cruelty, he steadies your shoulders, clasping onto you tightly. Those violet eyes are brimming with anguish, a pain he is unwilling to share with you. From being an open book whose pages you love to read and reread again, he’s now a subject you can’t possibly understand. 

“I need time to myself to think about what to do.” Glancing at the hovering robot, he sighs. “Mina, make sure she gets to bed on time. I’m going for a drive.”

Though she’s programmed to check her Master on orders that do not make sense, her sensors record the cadence of his tone, registering it as pure frustration.

“Of course, Ken. Y/N—come and have some dinner—”

You storm past him, ignoring his squeak of indignation. 

“Where are you going?”

Turning back, your lips pull into a terrifying sneer. “Doing you a favor and leaving first.”

“To where?” His exasperation makes you see red, and you don’t reply, huffing and pushing the door open, speed walking towards your old Camry. 

“Come on. You can’t be serious.” Kenji uses his longer legs to effortlessly catch up to you, grabbing your arm.

The drizzle outside turns into a light rush of rain, steadily soaking you from head to toe. Ken can’t help the flash of panic at the thought of you driving in such bad weather conditions. But, you’re understandably upset with him and can’t think straight—it was his fault for hurting you first.

Heartbreak radiates across your face and he flinches at the sight of tears welling in your eyes. His shoulders sag and he wants nothing more than to reach out to you and hold you tightly to his chest, but you pull away with a sniff and a shake of your head.

“I can’t believe I thought you would be there for me when I needed you the most.”

You tug yourself free from his grasp, opening the car door and rushing inside; giving him one last, stinging look.

Droplets of icy cold water trickle down his face, illuminated faintly by the green neon of your car’s dashboard. 

“Y/N, I…” 

He wants to open his heart to you, tell you everything about the man behind the facade. 

The wounded son, the struggling young baseball star, the giant hero fighting monsters and the dangers that haunt his waking moments…

But, he clams up, holding you back from the truth. 

You exhale brokenly. 

It was just like Ken to always keep you at arm’s length—hovering just out of reach. You’re not sure how long you can stay faithful and patient for him to finally let you into his heart.

“Goodbye, Kenji.” 

He watches your car speed down the driveway, round the bend and out of his life. His broad shoulders curl forward, and he wants so badly to kick his bike into gear and chase after you, apologizing for his mistake.

But the part of him that would always remain selfish, the one untouched by your goodness and the harsh lessons he’s learned in this life, nails him to the spot. 

If he doesn’t chase after you, maybe you might change your mind and get rid of it yourself. 

He shakes his head, a wave of disgust rising in him.

Is this who you really are, Ken Sato? A coward? 

“Ken? It’s raining. Don’t you want to come in?”

Mina’s concern breaks through his destructive thoughts and he sighs. “Mina, do you have a view on her? Where is she going?”

The robot pauses, scanning through the city’s data systems. “She’s right on Odori-chome. Rounding the bend to Takayo Dorms. It looks like she’ll be staying with a friend tonight.”

As much as he loathes the idea of you being pregnant and having to sleep on some poor college student’s floor, Ken knows he has to give you space or else you’ll implode. 

“Okay. If she calls, let me know immediately. She’s pregnant—” He chokes on that word, and Mina gives a concerned whir. “And I’m worried. I’ll see her tomorrow and…” The young man trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Mina, I’m scared.”

She extends one robotic arm, guiding him inside to warmth and dryness, the doors automatically closing behind him. Ken staggers to the couch, kicking the bottom compartment open and finding a can of his favorite Asahi on hand.

He cracks it open, drinking deeply while Mina floats next to him, vigilant and listening.

“Was dad ever scared when mom broke the news to him?”

To his surprise, Mina chuckles. “Why don’t you call him up and ask him yourself?”

Ken considers it, glancing at his watch. Professor Sato was probably already in bed by now, and he didn’t want the old man grilling him on his poor life choices so late in the night.

“... I’ll do it tomorrow. After the playoffs.”

Mina titters and floats in front of him. 

“Whatever mistake you think you’ve made Ken, I know you will have the courage to solve it. You are not like the person you were before—you’ve grown. Changed. And when the time is right, everything will fall back into place.”

Her words marginally comfort him, relieving him of the heaviness in his chest. Ken flashes her a weak smile, drooping his head back against the sofa. He hopes to every god above—both baseball and Kaiju deities—that she’s right.

That no matter how things ended between you two tonight, it will never leave a permanent scar on the future.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy you said you were seeing?” 

Chisa, your roommate from months ago when you still lived near campus, points at the shoddy screen of her twice broken down TV. She’s sipping on a beer while spreadsheets and blueprints litter around her—remnants of last night’s cramp study session which was interrupted by your unexpected return. 

You lift your head from her couch and true enough, the devil in the form of Ken Sato’s confident smile appears on the screen, making your stomach turn and heart twist.

Flopping back onto the hard couch, you sigh. “Yeah.”

Chisa rakes a hand through her platinum blonde hair, stifling a yawn. “You know what—I get it. I would be absolutely shattered too if a hot, successful and rich man dumped me for getting pregnant. You just can’t win everything in life.”

You want to throw a pillow into her face for such harsh words, but a part of you—that small, terrified part—has to agree. 

“So, are you going to keep it?” 

Her sudden question makes you wish you never asked her for a favor in the first place. While Chisa was friendly enough, it was her sharp tongue and blunt nature which often led you two into mini arguments back when you were still living with her.

“I don’t know,” you tell her truthfully, sitting up and feeling a pang of hunger course through you. “It’s not like I can afford a baby right now without—” Your throat swells, the words caught behind a lump.

Chisa has enough grace not to comment on the tears glossing in your eyes. She turns her attention back to the screen to let you rub them away, raising the volume to drown out your quiet sniffles.

The both of you watch the sports segment—her, completely engrossed, and you numbly tracking Ken's every movement on the pitch. It’s a livestream from one of his games happening this morning, the very first game you won’t be cheering him on from the stands.

Without much thought, you touch your belly, wondering if the little life in there could see his or her daddy on screen. The reality that this would be the only way they could meet their own father makes you tear up again, and you reach for your dead phone, needing to at least hear his voice again. 

It didn’t matter if Ken Sato didn’t want you in his life or if he refused to acknowledge the child you’re carrying as his. You just needed to know he would still be there for you.

Hooking it to a cable, you switch your phone back on, and instantly, a stream of messages swarm in.

I know you never liked it whenever I asked Mina to keep an eye on you, but she told me you’re rooming with a friend. Chisa, right? I hope she doesn’t make you sleep on the floor.

Another text. 

Yikes. Reading that again, I sound like an absolute dick. What I meant to say was that I hope you’re comfortable and you can rest well. I know the way we ended things was messy to sum it up, but I really hope this wouldn’t be the last time we see each other. 

The last text, sent around one in the morning, three hours after your epic fight, reads:

I miss you. Goodnight, baby. Sleep well.

You lift your gaze to the TV again, and start to notice the dark circles under his eyes. The hard set of his mouth. Ken still loves me—he still wants this. Your heart leaps, and you turn your attention back to the screen, typing out: 

I miss you. I’m sorry. I 

A sudden tremor rocks the house, and your phone goes clattering to the ground. Chisa’s loud yelp rings through your mind as the shakes get more and more intense, as if it's getting closer.

Outside the dorms, screams erupt and alarms blare. The symphonic pattern of the warning is unmistakable: there is a Kaiju nearby.

You lurch to your feet, dragging Chisa by the arm, jolting her into action. 

The sound of hundreds of feet running in one direction burns through your mind; Chisa’s arm is a constant around you as she drags you down the road, trying to find shelter from the impending danger. 

It’s a lizard or moth hybrid with a wide wingspan and sharp rows of teeth. You’ve seen news reports of Kaijus before, but you’ve never dared to think you would see one up close. Spikes adorn its tail which goes crashing into buildings and houses, debris raining to the screaming crowd below like a reckoning halestorm.

Car alarms blare, in tandem with the rising panicked screams of hundreds of students and teachers who were caught off guard by this sudden attack.

“Look!” Someone yells, and in the distance, you see a human-like shape approaching fast. 

“Ultraman!”

“He’s here!” 

“He’s here to save us!”

Chisa, whose lips are bloodless and cheeks pale with fright, leads you up the stairs of the business school building, where you both can find higher ground to avoid the falling debris.

In your panic, you trip on a large rock and tumble to the ground, a loud, ominous crack resounding throughout this concrete cube you’ve both locked yourselves in.

“Shit!” Chisa bends down to inspect your ankle. She tries to lift it, but a searing pain cuts through your entire body, your shriek of agony making her flinch. “Fuck. Oh, fuck. This isn’t good. This isn’t—”

Boom!

The doors of the building fly off, and the monster sticks its muzzle inside, sniffing around for its prey. Having scented you and Chisa, it releases a loud screech, and before both of you could even blink, the roof flies off, its sharp talons reaching inside and grabbing you. 

The sudden loss of gravity strains your broken foot and you scream in agony and fear.

“Y/N!” 

As the monster lifts you right to its face, you think—this is it. 

Every nerve in your body is frozen, your mouth falls open and you might’ve screamed—you can’t hear yourself or feel your body or your hands or even your broken foot anymore.

This is how I will die. 

“We interrupt this game to announce that there’s a Kaiju attack nearby. All civilians are requested to proceed to the nearest emergency exit. We interrupt this game to announce—”

As the stadium erupts in chaos, Ken hears the worst news his nightmares could conjure when someone screams: “The Kaiju—it’s attacking Takayo University!” 

His mind goes into overdrive, his body catching up as he feels the familiar muscles stretching and pulling, turning him into a 50-foot gargantuan hero. Mina chirps to life, and he’s never heard a robot sound so serious before.

“Ken, Gigan is approaching Takayo University. I can’t seem to get a hold on Y/N’s signal. I think her phone is switched off.”

Damn it—damn it all to hell! 

He pushes his body to the max, racing towards your direction, hoping against all hope that you were somewhere safe. 

The young hero wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you.

“Her messages were all gray yesterday. Her phone’s out of juice,” he snaps back. “Run a search on Chisa’s signal. They should be together.”

“Alright,” Mina whirs. “Chisa’s signal: located. They’re at the Business Faculty Park. I have sent you the coordinates.”

A flash of numbers and lines appear in front of him. Ken reads them quickly and nods. “Got it. Mina, alert dad and tell him Y/N might be harmed. Prepare the base, if needed. If she’s gone, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Mina doesn’t comment on his language—she chirps back, “Noted. Calling Professor Sato now.” 

He sees it then—Gigan the monster who’s stomping around and has something in its grubby claws.

“Mina, I see it. I—”

Ken thinks the light is playing tricks on him. There’s a flash of a familiar sheen of hair, a smaller figure held inside Gigan’s monstrous grip.

“Mina, enhance visibility—what is it holding?!” 

The sight enlarges, and Ken gasps. His shock turns into anger, and he’s taking off towards the beast, not caring of anything else in his path as he summons all his anger into a fist and knocks the giant lizard’s head backwards. Gigan’s grip loosens and Ken rushes forward to catch you, holding you tightly to his chest with one hand. 

With the monster down for a moment, he glances at his palm, unfurling his fingers to find your pale, frightful face staring right at him.

“Ultraman,” you gasp, and his heart breaks when he notices streaks of tears running down your face. 

You must’ve been scared shitless for your life.

“Are you alright?” The tenderness seeps through his tone, and he can’t fight back the cresting wave of loathing and self-hatred when you wrap your arms around your midsection, nodding tearfully.

“I-I’m fine—look out!” 

He holds you to his chest, careful not to crush you in his grip as he spins around, deftly avoiding Gigan’s tail as it careens right into his face. The Kaiju raises itself on its hind legs, releasing an earth shattering roar.

Ken cringes back. He needs to find you a safe spot; he can’t bring you into battle like this.

Sprinting away from the carnage, all the screams and fear fade into the distance, his mind hellbent on getting you to safety.

Finding a relatively high rise building that’s been torn apart by the Kaiju and left for ruin, he gently unfurls his hand, placing you back on solid ground as if you’re a Lego figure he needs to safekeep.

You drop to your knees, unable to hold yourself up. Ken sweeps his gaze over you, and without thinking, says: “Mina, run a scan on her. Is she safe?” 

Loyal to a fault, she follows his orders, coming to a hard pause when your screech reaches both their attention.

“Mina?! Hang on—”

Despite his sheer size and how tinier you are in comparison, Ken flinches when you march up to him, looking right into his glowing eyes.

The masked hero whose identity has been hidden since the day he assumed the role of Tokyo’s protector, freezes like a deer caught in headlights and for a moment, nothing exists in this world besides your eyes on his. You reach out, tips of your fingers caressing his armored cheek. 

As if an unspoken truth comes to light, your eyes widen, and you touch both hands onto his cheek, skimming them across his nose. Those wide, luminescent eyes slip close, like he's enjoying your touch.

“It’s you.” Your choked gasp tears at his soul, and Ken opens his eyes to find you crying, a palm pressed right to your mouth. “Oh my God. It really is you. It—”

Your knees buckle, unable to hold yourself upright to such a heavy truth. You slide to the ground and he reaches out a hand, letting you lean against his much bigger palm. His heart is beating so fast, he has to remind himself to breathe so he doesn’t transform in front of you and can’t protect the rest of the civilians from Gigan.

“Ken,” you say his name like a prayer, curling your much smaller fingers around his ring one, feeling the smooth armor of his alien skin under your touch. “Ken. I knew something was off about you but I—”

This pure moment of ecstatic discovery is cut off by a loud screech. 

Ken hears Gigan approach and he’s about to urge you to be safe when you lurch to your feet and stumble towards him.

It’s a split second of unadulterated heaven opening its white, pearly gates when your head touches his gargantuan forehead. You breathe and he breathes, the both of you suspended in this time and space where it's just the two of you in this world—human and beast, lover and monster. 

“Come back to me.” 

That’s all you say, all you have the time to elucidate before he’s ripped away by Gigan’s claws. 

Your cry pierces through his soul, and before he falls, he casts a protective shield around you, trapping you in a blue bubble of safety. 

But, it’s a miscalculated move. 

Gigan’s tail whips around, knocking the base of the building. One second, Ken’s eyes are locked on yours, and in the next moment, the entire roof falls on top of you.

“Nooooo!” 

Ken fights out of the monster’s grasp, using his sheer strength to dig his fingers into the creature's mouth and tear its entire head clean off by its jaw. 

Ending its life for daring to hurt yours.

This is it. 

He doesn’t care that his father would call this cruel—doesn't care for the mess and press comments calling him unhinged or for the KDF commending him on his efficiency in killing off a Kaiju.

This is his entire universe coming to an end. 

The tap tap tap of Professor Sato’s cane on the steel floors of the family’s underground base barely rouses Kenji from his vigil by your sickbed.

From his vantage point, Hayao easily notices his son’s sunken eyes, the unshaven chin and exhausted slump in his shoulders. Ken is holding his phone in one hand, occasionally glancing at a message on the smeared screen. His sharp eyes catch an unfinished message, glossing over it as Ken finally hears his footsteps and pockets his phone hastily.

I miss you. I’m sorry. I

A heavy weight settles in his chest like grease, and the older man exhales a sigh.

Without another word, he takes a seat next to his weary son, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Kenji, you’ve been down here for days. You need to see the sun—stretch and eat a proper meal.” 

He turns those solemn, violet eyes he passed down to his son onto the faint pallor of a young woman resting in a medically-induced deep sleep inside the emergency pod, her chest rising and falling slowly. 

Your vital stats on a holographic board floats in front of him, and Hayao stifles a sigh when he sees a tiny, bean-shaped blob hovering in another panel, its features barely formed but already so dear to him. 

Kenji can barely look at the vitals of his unborn child, eyes closed and head hung heavily as if the weight of the world drags his shoulders down. It might as well have, judging from the mess Hayao had to clean up when his son was too emotionally strained to handle the aftermath of Gigan’s attack.

“I can’t leave her side,” he replies monotonously. 

Hayao recognizes that despair Kenji exudes, having experienced it many, many times over his twenty plus years of being a father. 

Unexpectedly, he chuckles, and Kenji raises his head, finding his father’s expression faraway, nostalgia glistening in his rheumy eyes. 

“Oh, I remember the time your mother broke the news that she was expecting you.”

Any mention of Emiko would draw Kenji’s attention like a moth to a flame. His son listens, patiently waiting for him to reveal the next part.

Hayao smiles and shakes his head. “Just like how you reacted, I was stunned. I had to sit down when she passed me the test. It was the first time she’s ever seen me speechless.” Grasping his son’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze, the older Sato sighs. 

“Kenji, there comes a time in every man’s life when he has to sit down and evaluate if he’s the right fit for fatherhood. Any man can be a father, but it takes a noble, patient, and kind-hearted man to be a dad.”

He continues. “Children aren’t easy. Human children, that is. Kaiju ones grow too quickly and already have a set path due to their nature,” he chortles at the memory of Emi, and Ken can’t resist smiling at that. 

“But, babies… They test us. Show us what we lack and how imperfect we are. They have their own dreams, needs and wants. They’re loud, messy and take up so much of your heart, thoughts and peace. But, despite all of that, they’re our hopes and dreams.” Hayao chuckles. “If anyone were to ask me what my greatest legacy is, I would never say ‘Ultraman’ or the research I’ve done over the years.”

Ken listens to him raptly, violet eyes wide and waiting. 

Hayao finally looks at him, and in those similar purple orbs, he finds a kindred spirit—someone who knows his burdens inside and out because he’s lived through them all for half of his life.

“My greatest legacy is you, Kenji. My son.” 

A wizened finger taps on the screen, and the room fills up with the echoing pulse of a second heartbeat, fainter like its coming from the bottom of the ocean. But, it’s as strong as his own, and in that, Ken feels the anger, despair and disappointment he holds for himself slowly dissipating like steam on a hot day.

“And after seeing how much you’ve sacrificed and learned from raising Emi, I know this baby would be so lucky to have you as a dad.”

Hayao gets to his feet with slight difficulty, patting Ken’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Kenji. It will all work out just fine. Take it one day at a time, alright?”

Ken wants to ask about the neverending dread, if his father ever feared putting his family in danger—the perils of parenting and how he’s going to juggle baseball, Ultraman and being a dad (a real one, this time) all at once.

Like he’s heard his son’s uncontrollable thoughts, Hayao turns back to give him one last piece of sage advice. 

“Everything will be okay. You are Kenji Sato—your mother’s son and my son. You will never be alone.” He glances at your resting form. “And she will never leave you. A woman who readily accepts our family’s duty and burdens is a rare gem indeed, son.”

“But, mom did the same,” he blurts out, brows knitting together. “She accepted you with open arms, too. How can you say it’s rare when it has happened before?”

Hayao’s eyes sparkle as if Ken has finally found the answer to his perpetually troubling question.

“That’s why I married her.”

He leaves Ken alone to ponder his words, the doors closing behind his frail form. 

The young man turns back to your pod, placing a hand over the reinforced glass, right over your belly.

Before he can stop himself, he presses his forehead against the cool metal, sighing.

“Well, you heard him,” he mutters. “The second you wake up, baby, I’m locking you down—there’s no shaking me off this time.”

A click. A whir. 

The world slowly comes back to focus and you furrow your brow, biting back a groan. Your body faintly pulses with pain, like it’s remembering the trauma you suffered through a five year memory fade.

But, your limbs work, and it doesn't hurt to breathe. 

“Hey, you’re awake.”

That voice… 

You pry your eyes open and the second you recognize his face, you think you could break down and cry. Soft violet eyes appraise you, slender fingers reaching out to tenderly graze your cheek.

“Ken…” 

He catches your embrace, holding you so tightly you think you might suffocate. The feel of his arms around you is like coming home after a long day, and you think he might feel the same way, his heartbeat thudding erratically under your cheek.

“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry,” he apologizes over and over again. It takes all of your willpower not to tear up at the look of defeat on his face. You cup his cheek, bringing him closer so both your foreheads can touch. 

“It’s alright, Ken,” you murmur, free hand running through his thick, raven locks. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

He cradles your tummy at the reminder, looking like a puppy that’s been kicked to the curb. 

“I was so mean to you. And to Peanut. I’m so sorry—”

“Peanut?” You blink, and he doubles back, scratching the back of his head.

“I, um… may have given the baby a nickname while you were, uh, recovering.”

Your lovely, silly boyfriend thought you would be angry when it is the furthest from the truth. “Peanut, huh?” 

You place your hand over his, drinking in this moment of having your entire family right here, safe and sound. 

“I like it. Peanut.” Your smile is saint-like, warm like the first sun rays breaking through a long, dark night. “Peanut is perfect for him or her.” 

He doesn’t deserve the grace and forgiveness you’ve shown him and Kenji thinks that for the rest of his life he wants to atone for all the wrongs he’s ever committed. 

Your health is his priority, and kick-starting this renewed promise to you, he’s there every step of the way during your recovery—feeding you, bathing you, helping you regain your ability to walk without needing a crutch, taking you to physiotherapy classes so you would be mobile again after breaking your leg. 

He even shows you Kaiju Island with his dad, Professor Sato and him catching up with a now one year old Emi who’s grown into her wingspan and new abilities. At first, you were terrified to meet the Kaiju baby your boyfriend once raised, but the moment she scented you, she was all over you like an overly-friendly cat.

Her beak presses against the barely-there swell of your belly, and she coos in delight.

Looks like Emi is happy to be a big sister. Professor Sato laughs at that, thumping his son on the back. 

Siblings—Kaiju and a human—I’ll have to trash my entire research thesis because nothing can compare to this!

You move back in with Ken, ditching your old dorm and studying from home to accommodate your growing belly and fatigue. Your lecturers were understanding enough, though you suspect the Ken Sato’s reputation was enough for them to give you some leeway.

Ken reduces his time spent on the pitch to be home with you and the baby, catching the press’ attention who start to wonder if the great Ken Sato is cracking yet again.  Eventually, it's his old frenemy, Ami, who spots him leaving a prenatal clinic with you one rainy morning after tailing him for days. 

Your boyfriend literally has to bribe her with two months worth of free Tonkatsu dinners on his card before she lets the scoop go, giving you a sympathetic look that makes you laugh and Ken indignant. 

Life was back to normal—or, as normal as it could be after finding out your boyfriend is literally a 50-foot alien superhero who fights monsters. 

One night where you’re both just lazing around on the sofa, Ken decides to show more of his world to you, and tugs your hand, leading you to the underground base which he affectionately dubs his ‘mancave’. 

There, he asks Mina to pull up an old recording of Emiko on the stands and officially introduces his girlfriend to his mother. 

“She’s beautiful, Ken.” You approach her with a fond smile, and his arms wrap around you; heart filled with pure happiness at the sight of his two favorite women in one room. Ken kisses the top of your head and then sighs. 

“I wish you could meet her, baby. She would’ve loved you to the moon and back.”

He tells you of the efforts to retrieve her from a wormhole; how he spends everyday wondering if the next time he sees his mother, he’ll be just as old and gray as her. You’re there for his every rumination, every fear. 

“My parents separated when I was really young,” he confesses while you’re both lying in bed in each other’s arms, giving you another piece of his childhood that you welcome with no judgment. “I don’t want to be like my dad—putting Kaijus or my career first that I lose the both of you.”

At those words, you take his face in your hands, looking him in the eye as you shake your head. “You will never lose me, Kenji Sato. I’m yours and you’re mine. We’re in this as a team and we’ll see this through.” Echoing his father’s advice, you grin. “Let’s just take this one day at a time, okay?”

With his past revealed and double identity known, it’s your turn to be there for him in a different way. 

When the voices of doubt get too loud for him, you don’t let him wallow in his misery for long, encouraging him to teach you how to bat a ball or letting him press his cheek to your growing tummy so he can feel Peanut moving around. 

You meant every word you said to him that night in the tender darkness: you were both a team. No matter how bad the storm hits, you would weather it together. 

One day, without you expecting it, Ken proposes to you while you’re both watching a movie.

“I can’t walk down the aisle!” You pout, and he’s taken aback, thinking you’re flat out rejecting him when you point at your nose. “My nose will be all squished and the photos will come out ugly,” you whine. “Pregnancy noses are a thing,” you try to convince him as he bends over in laughter.

“Baby,” he wipes the tears from his eyes, broad shoulders shaking with repressed mirth. “Squished nosh or not, I still love you, squirt.”

He removes a simple, velvet box from his pants pocket and reveals a ring with your birthstone and his on it. You whisper about a hundred ‘yes's’ in response to his “Will you marry me, sweetheart?”; tearing up when he slips the ring onto your left hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately.

“Have I ever told you I love you so, so much, baby?”

Though you have no idea what’s in store in the future with a man who can turn into a superhero, and a whole new world of monsters, baseball and parenthood to navigate, you thank your lucky stars that he’s right beside you for the journey. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear it again.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, the feel of his smile on your skin like the embrace of home.

“I love you.” 

“Hah,” you look up, starry-eyed and in love as you push his bangs out of the way. “I love you, too, Kenji Sato.”

— feedback and reblogs are appreciated <3

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim my plot points, structure and elements of work as your own.

[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

[xetlynn]

Until Dawn- By Your Side: Chapter One, Blackwood Pines

(Josh Washington X reader)

[Prologue] [One] [Two]

Ever since that day I’ve rarely looked Jessica in the eyes. I’ll talk to her like normal, she’ll come into my room to bother me but I never initiate anything anymore. I was pretty disgusted by her actions. Same with everyone else’s. I’ve gotten extremely close with Sam because of everything too. Her, Chris and I check in with Josh a lot.

Mainly me, they just text me asking for updates since they don’t see him as often as I do. My parents have even been getting annoyed with my “behavior.” How I’m never home, barely doing my homework and treating Jessica poorly. I’m not meaning to. I really want to look at my sister and not see a bad friend, but looking back on my pictures with Beth and Hannah it’s difficult. Knowing Hannah was devastated from what they did to her, it being a stupid prank or not.

And when Josh told me his plan to have everyone come up for this winter I was skeptical on if it would be a good idea. “Are you sure, we haven’t gone up unless it was for a search party, my love.” I run my fingers through his hair, he smiles softly up at me. He was laying his head on my chest, his arms wrapped around my torso.

“My sisters would want to have fun up there. Like we always have.” He kisses my collarbone. “Are you sure there’s no other reason?” I question him, his nose twitches and I knew I already caught him in his lies. “What other reason would there be?” He decides to ask a question in return. I stare down at him with a straight face, he lifts himself off of me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His brows furrow and I crack a smile, grabbing his arm. “I know you better than that, my love.” I pull him down to kiss him on his lips. “What are you scheming?” Kissing him again. “I can’t believe you caught me that quick.” He entraps me in between his arms, his body laying flat on mine. I hear him take a deep breath, I knew he was wondering if he should tell me or not. Knowing him since we were children I’ve gotten to observe every little thing about him. Something he’s done with me too.

“I just maybe want to get it out of them, that they’re guilty for it.” He finally whispers out, I stay silent for a moment. I can hear his heart beat start to quicken and before he panics I speak up. “How can I help?”

I sat on the bus with Sam, she gave me one of her earbuds as we listened to what’s on her device. It’s the radio talking about the Washington twins. I notice her stare out the window. My body stiffens slightly, it’s never easy hearing updates about the twins and it be nothing new. Nothing good. Then she clicks a button switching to a video of my boyfriend. Of Josh. I smile at the sight of his face.

“Well hello friends and fans… alright let’s do that again.” He goes back up to the camera, not really zooming it in, beginning to talk once again with the same intro. “Alright. Well hello friends and fans! It’s beyond awesome to have you guys all back this year. First off, I gotta say I am super excited to welcome all my pals back to the annual Blackwood winter getaway!” He does a little cheer. “So, um… let me just let you know, let’s take a moment to address the elephant in the room for a second…” His mood switches. “I know you’re all probably worried about me and I know it’s gonna be tough on all of us going back after what happened last year, but I just want you all to know, it means… it means so much to me that we’re doing this. And I know it would mean so much to Hannah and Beth that we’re all still here together, y’know thinking of them. I really want to spend some quality time with each and every one of you and share moments we’ll never forget. For the sake of my sisters, you know?” He gives his speech, I lean into Sam further and further as I listen to him. I feel her laugh at me a little bit but I can’t help it. “Okay… so! Let’s party like we’re fucking porn stars, okay?! And make this one trip we’ll never forget, alright? Yes!” He pumps his fists up in the air. I scrunch my nose because of his wording but Sam and I both snicker at it quietly.

When the bus finally stops at Blackwood Pines, Sam and I get out together and begin to walk forward while looking around. We were told to meet here by Chris like we have many times before. “Weird, looks like we’re before him.” I smile, twirling around. She opens the gate for both of us. “Surprising. I feel like we’re the last usually.” She huffs, I hum in agreement. We then hear a noise behind us. “Hello?” Sam calls out. “Someone there?” I ask out, furrowing my eyebrows. Squinting, checking if I could possibly see anything.

After not getting anything in response we continue on. I keep checking behind us though. Thinking maybe someone was there, playing a prank on us.

Once we get to the gate there’s a note taped onto it. “Gate’s busted, climb over. -Chris.” I read out. “So he is here and didn’t meet up like we agreed.” I cross my arms, irritated. “I wonder why.” Sam whispers. We try to open the gate still but nothing budges. I sigh and head over to the rocky wall of the fence. Sam right behind me.

“I’ll boost you.” I tell her, jokingly. The wall had too many things sticking out for a boost to actually work. I squat down a tiny bit as she begins to climb. Staying there for her as support. She does a jump and I make a face but successfully she gets on top of the wall. “Alright, your turn.” She says, taking a second to breathe.

I groan but do the same thing she did. Lifting myself up, very slowly as I don’t think I have the same amount of upper body strength as her. We jump down together. I trip a little bit and she helps me so I don’t fall. Both of us chuckling. Making our way to the area we need to get to.

We pass by the sign about Indigenous people and butterfly prophesies. “Oh, cool!” Sam grins. She skims over it but we continue forward. Finally getting to where we used to meet Josh and the twins… along with Chris.

Speaking of, “Is that Chris’s bag?” I point over to the bench. Sam moves a little closer to me. “Chris?” She calls out, we go closer to the bag. “Your bags here, but where are you?” I roll my eyes.

“Are you here? You’re not in the bag are you?!” Sam asks. I hear buzzing. “His phone.” I mutter, taking it out of the pocket. “Ah ha!” Sam grins, “look who it is.” I smirk. Ashley’s name popping up on the screen.

“Hey noseys.” A voice calls from behind us and we both jump. “Chris.” Sam sighs out. “You scared us.” We both say clinging onto each other. “I’m sorry, but are either of you my secretary?” He points a finger in our faces.

Sam takes the phone from my hand and lifts it up. “It was buzzing.” She defends our choice we made to snoop through his belonging.

“Cool. Well, thanks for letting me know. I can take it from here.” He takes it from her. He checks the message and we stand there awkwardly.

“Oh! So, I found something kinda amazing.” He goes over to his bag. “What?” Sam asks and I just lean against her, tiredly. Still intrigued nonetheless.

“I’m not gonna tell you guys, you gotta see for yourselves. Come on, it’s this way.” He leads the way, I get off of Sam and we begin to walk once again. “Where?”

“Right around here. Gonna blow your minds.” He dramatically says. “Mhm, sure.” I take a breath. “Just see before you give me attitude, [Name].” He tells me.

We get around the building and we see a Wanted poster but it doesn’t show the face of the person, It was ripped off. Only the name showed. “Victor Milgram.” I read out.

“Nice. You think we’ll get a visit from America’s most wanted?” Chris asks and I nudge him for being insensitive. “Looks like someone thought so.” Sam speaks. “oh come on. This place is abandoned most of the year.” He then starts his trail once more. “Nobody comes up here.” I think about how I came here quite a few times with Josh and his parents in the search parties for the twins. Knowing that his statement unfortunately is not true.

Him saying “Ta Dah.” Gets me out of those thoughts for a moment. “Pretty rad right?”

“Yeeeeaaaah.” Sam sarcastically says. I didn’t say anything, I just gave our friend a bored expression. “Come on! Look at these beauties.”

“Beauties is not the word that comes to mind. Why is this even here?” She questions it. “Yeah, I’m not into it.” I agree with her.

“What do you mean?” He looks back to the shooting range. “What the hell is a shooting range doing at the base of a ski lodge?”

“Dude. Have you ever met Josh’s dad? [Name], you out of everyone should know why this is here.” He points to me and I frown, knowing I have to agree with this idiot who thought a gun range would blow our minds.

“Josh’s dad thinks he’s like Grizzly Adam’s or something, for sure.” I whisper to Sam. “Wanna try?” Chris offers the shot gun to both of us. I shake my head. “You go ‘head, Grizzly.” Sam jokes with him after what I just whispered to her. Both of us laughing quietly. “Alright, here goes.” He lifts up the gun, getting it ready. He shoots the first target. He then doesn’t miss a single one and I give him a small applause.

“Wow. Nice shootin’, Tex.” Sam gives him a smile. I do a small cheer for him. “Alright. I’m bad.” Chris starts dancing causing us two to give him dirty expressions. “I’m a badass!”

“I’m gonna go ahead and guess it was a wild case of beginner’s luck.” Sam teases him after his stupid dance. “Nah, I don’t think so girl.” He wags his finger before lifting the gun back up. Shooting another target and getting it. “Well, anybody and their brother could shoot a bottle that big, that close.” She chuckles.

A squirrel shows up and my eyes widen slightly hoping Chris doesn’t go for it. “Don’t do it, Chris.” I mumble but I know he heard me when I saw his gun move to a different area. “Nice shot.”

“Your ass just got saaaacked!”

“Ugh.” I grimace, walking away from them to go back to the front of the building. “You two, our rides coming.” I say, not paying attention to what they’re doing as I head forward. I hear Sam urge Chris to come on. Him whining slightly afterward. I get to the door, trying to open it but it’s locked. I hear Chris say “a year goes fast.” And immediately choose not to ask what they were talking about.

“Hey, the doors locked.” I push on it again, to show them. “Yeaaah, Josh wanted us to keep it locked. Keep people out.” Chris informs me and then I drop my shoulders remembering that conversation we had. “He said that? What people?” Sam furrows her brows.

“He said they found people sleeping in the station one time.” I tell her, vividly seeing the conversation I had with him in my head before packing for this trip. “Creepy.”

Chris shows his key and I get out of the way for him to unlock it. He gets it open and lets us in before him.

“Ah, real gentleman.” Sam goes in, me right behind her. Sam goes to the railing and looks around as I follow Chris. “I thought the car was closer.” She complains. “Guess we gotta wait.” My boyfriend’s best friend responds.

“What a crazy place to set up house. No matter how rich you are.” He stares at a Blackwood Pines poster. “They’re not so rich.” Sam disagrees. “The only bought a mountain.” She sarcastically adds in. I watch Chris walk around the room. Both of our eyes landing on a screen. It looks like cameras surrounding the Washington Cabin. I see a thing of a bedroom and then it clip back to the front of the house. I frown, confused on what we’re looking at.

The cable car sounding closer, we both join Sam back outside. “You coming?” Sam asks Chris as I get in before her. We sit beside one another. “I was gonna catch some z’s but I guess.” He makes a horrible joke. Chris sits on the other side of me.

“Here we go.” I announce as the car moves. “Right, adventure begins.” Chris smiles.

Long awaited chapter :0

Masterlist

Josh M.L.

Taglist: If you want to be added lmk!

@my1fx

[sunshine-theseus]

Breaking Records or Breaking the Internet? | Vivianne Miedema x Reader

Words: 2.5k

Summary: COVID doesn’t exist, Viv didn’t have to undergo another knee surgery, I’m basing the main character off Arnie Titmus (I love her sm) but I am also just making shit up

Warnings: not proofread

Your first Olympics had been 2012 in London. Barely 15, you emerged from the water an Olympic record holder with your first piece of Olympic gold weighing on your neck. As a young girl from a rural town in Tasmania, you hadn’t expected to make a career out of swimming, but with every competition, every new medal, every regional, national and world record that you claim, it begins to feel real.

As a young girl from rural Tasmania who grew up extremely religious, you hadn’t expected to reach all these milestones with the girl of your dreams.

It was unclear how and why Vivianne Miedema showed up to your 200m Freestyle final swim at the 2020 Olympics in Tokyo. The rest of her team was surely back at the hotel or walking the streets of Tokyo, but here she was. Your eyes were drawn to her in the bright orange jacket all Dutch athletes had to wear, talking enthusiastically with Dawn Fraser, both of them pointing at you as you wait for your name to be called at the podium.

“With a new Olympic Record, 1st place is Y/N L/N!!” The voice echoes throughout the hall before cheers erupt from every corner. With a smile you bend to accept the medal that placed around your neck, then your eyes return to the unanticipated duo.

After congratulating your competitors and talking to family and friends, you make your way over to them. Dawn is pulling you into a hug and praising you before a word can escape your mouth, before turning to the tall dutchie next to her who has a tight lipped but kind smile.

“This is Vivianne Miedema. She’s a big fan of yours.” Of course you knew who she was. You were a big fan of her’s.

“It’s so lovely to meet you. You’re probably my favourite non-Australian player. I can’t wait to watch your game against Zambia.”

“You’re coming to the game?”

“Of course.”

Many, many people had caught that interaction, followed by your long talks on the pitch after her games or beside the pool at other record-breaking swims. The natural development from the internet was speculation about whether you were a couple. At the time you certainly weren’t. Strictly new friends.

But then you showed up to more Netherlands and even an occasional Arsenal game, and she showed up to more swim meets. The conversations last longer, the touches lingered, the glances toward each other’s lips increased. Everything was just more… intense.

So one fateful day in 2022 during your (short) off-season, you decided to visit her in London. It wasn’t a surprise technically, you just decided to arrive a few days earlier than planned and surprise her at the game. There was something telling you, you needed to come early. So Caitlin had sorted out your ticket and happily gave you a lift from the airport to the stadium.

-

Viv easily spotted you during warm up, with your hair in the same messy bun it had been for the past day and a bright orange ‘Miedema’ jersey adoring your torso, one that she had personally given to you after her first 2020 Olympics match. She happily made her way over to you, swinging her leg back and forth to mimic the exercise she was supposed to be doing as she grinned the same grin you’d found yourself stuck admiring time and time again. But it didn’t quite meet her eyes the same way it always did. Something was brewing.

“I can’t believe you’re here. You weren’t meant to arrive until Monday.”

“Couldn’t miss a big game, could I? Is- is everything okay? Something seems off.”

“Yeah, yeah of course why wouldn’t it be?”

“Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes today.” your hand rests on the side of her head, thumb stroking the spot beside her eye which is usually occupied by crows feet that show much love and joy she has.

“I don’t know. I’ve just felt off all week. I was going to ask Jonas to take me off the roster this morning but I don’t want to through everyone off. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“If you’re sure liefje.” You press a kiss to the palm of her hand and send her back down the tunnel, anticipation and worry burning in your gut.

-

Lyon was up 1 by the end of the first 45 minutes of normal time, but there looked like hope for the English side during the extra 3 minutes. Viv was playing well in midfield. She wasn’t as strong as usual, but it just looked like she was taking it easy; making open passes and wasting no time in passing the ball to the next player.

But then she makes a run to meet Lia, trying to grab the ball from her feet.

She kicks.

She misses.

She falls.

She doesn’t get back up.

Blood pounds in your ears and you wait in bated breath as the medics assess her knee.

Her knee.

She’s shifted onto the stretcher, but you don’t see any more as you rush out of the family and friend’s section and demand a security guard take you to see her, flashing your badge. This was the bad feeling. You both knew something would happen and ignored it. It almost felt like you fault.

The doors crash against the brick walls, and you speed walk down the hall to the medical room where Viv is laying quietly while the medics do further assessment. They ask questions and she answers in short, quiet breaths.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“It’s unstable.”

“I can’t walk on it.”

“It popped when I fell.” No no no no. You whisper the three letters before anyone in the room can even think them.

Suddenly all eyes are on you. The medic’s eyes are apologetic and shocked at the arrival of a new voice, but Viv’s are tired and welled with tears. She looks so broken. So you sit in the seat next to her head and take one hand in your own while your other lifts to stroke through her hair.

“It’s going to be okay.” you whisper in her ear.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

“I’m right here it’s going to be okay. I’ve got you”

~~~~~

About 2 months after the initial injury on a particularly difficult night for the Dutch, you found yourselves huddled up together in her bed watching Friends for the second time. Neither of you were talking but you found yourself staring at Viv while Chandler continues to ramble on about how much he loves Monica. Soulmates destined to be. And then you found yourself staring into Viv’s cloudy grey eyes, slowly leaning in. You waited for Viv to stop you but she says and does nothing, so you let your lips meet. It’s a delicate kiss, just two people who have been in love with each other for years, finally professing their feelings.

There was no conversation about what that kiss meant for you two, but it seemed to be an unspoken decision that you were now together. You slept beside each other, kissed at every opportunity, and supported one another through everything. You were in your own private world.

The recovery process proved to be difficult but you hadn’t left Viv’s side for a moment, officially announcing you were taking a break from this swimming season for unforeseeable amount of time. But the injury had taken a big toll had been her mental health. Most days she didn’t want to get out of bed, let alone leave the house, and every day you were to expect multiple apologies for being difficult to take care of.

Every bad comment was met with a kiss and a promise to stay by her side until you were absolutely no longer needed.

-

Viv made her return almost a year after the injury, coming on late into the second half, only to score two goals against Tottenham. You cheered as loud as you could, and smiled widely when she sent a hand heart your way in celebration. You’d agreed to keep your relationship private in terms of it’s development. Most journalists who had asked about it had been told you were taking care of a dear friend and had been looking for a chance to take a year off anyway, so the timing lined up. But she couldn’t help but silently give thanks to the person who had gotten her through it all. Who brought her back

~~~~~

You managed to make it back to training in time to decently prepare for Paris qualifiers. You’d kept up doing almost daily training during your time in England, but nowhere near the extent you were used to as the multiple time World and Olympic Champion under Boxall. Seven straight months of hard work, day in and day out, and you’d be in shape for qualifiers, and in perfect shape to take on the best of the best.

Everyday consisted of 4-6 hours in the pool and in the gym, a session in the early morning and another after lunch, a nap, and then a long call with Viv while you ate dinner and she had lunch. It was hard being away from her after spending a whole year beside her. The bed was cold, the house felt empty, things just weren’t the same. But you both knew it needed to be done.

-

By the time early July came around, you genuinely felt like you were a new person. Before the year long break things had begun to feel tedious and swimming was losing it’s meaning. You were still performing as the best in the world, but it was automatic. But now everything felt… right.

And the qualifiers showed it.

You broke your own world records multiple times with ease, and every round made you feel alive again. There was no Viv in bright orange to cheer you along this time but you knew she’d be proud. And she made sure you knew she was with every nightly call, proclaiming her love and support for you.

-

Viv accompanying you to Paris was a well kept secret between the two of you. In the days leading up to your first races, you wondered around the village texting her, desperate to know what she was doing out in the city. More often than not, the answer was that she refused to see any big sites without you, waiting until you are completely done to explore the city of love.

She was in the crowd of every race without fail, the same bright orange jacket she wore the first time you met. Your ear was trained to hear her and your eyes knew where to look, she would be sitting in the exact same seat every time. The proud smile on her face made your heart flutter and it takes everything within you not to run up to her and kiss her after clambering out of the water.

Halfway through the swimming events you’ve managed to rack up five golds and once again break your own world records, barely skimming off 0.2 seconds each time.

Then it came to the big finale. You were known for your short distance swims. 100m and 200m freestyle and butterfly were your dominant fields, but you were adamant to at least try and land on the podium for the 1500m freestyle beside Katie Ledecky.

It was a shock to you, your coach and most of the nation when you had passed through the qualifiers, and then you qualified for the semis. Now you were on to the final. You’d never been this nervous in your career and all you wanted in that moment was a hug from your girlfriend, but you needed to lock in.

You’re lined up in the tunnel.

Your name is called.

You’re standing behind the podium for lane 7.

You’re on the podium in position.

The whistle blows.

You’re submerged in the water.

The rest of the race is a blur. One lap becomes 10 and 10 becomes 20 and then suddenly you’re onto the last 50 metres. Just 50 more metres. You have no idea if you’re in front or if you’ve fallen behind, but you push until your hand slides against the ceramic tile of the pool wall.

Gasping for air, you pull off your goggles and look around the pool. Most other people are finished, but you have no clue for how long, and the final swimmer slots in beside your no more than 20 seconds after. You don’t expect a big victory as you all turn to the board, waiting for the results.

“In second… lane 4, United States of America, Katie Ledecky!” the room echoes with cheers and shouts of confusion. Second? This is her race. This is what she’s known for. Who could possibly have beaten the Katie Ledecky?

“And with a new world and Olympic record of 15:20.34, lane 7, Australia, Y/N L/N!” the screams are deafening as the crowd and your competitors alike cheer for you.

You hug and thank each of them, before making your way to the podium where you receive your gold. Tears stream down your face as photos are taken from all angles, and you pull Katie and Anastaysia up beside you, recognising their efforts. But all you can think about is Viv, waiting impatiently against the barrier for a moment of your time.

The happiness and excitement keeps building up within you as you’re finally freed from media, and you run to your girlfriend, grabbing her face and kissing her. In the back of your head you know this will be making news headlines everywhere in all of an hours time, but you don’t care. How could you? It’s the perfect way to celebrate all your hard earned success. Kissing the love of your life.

“I love you so much. I’m so so proud of you liefje.” She pecks your lips again.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, lieveling.”

~~~~~

You get to leave the village the next day, and you’re thankful to leave the Styrofoam mattresses and cardboard bedframes behind. Your hotel’s king sized bed with a memory foam mattress, completed with the warmth of your girlfriend’s arms is the only upgrade you could ask for. She presses kisses to your shoulder as you scroll through twitter, many fans of both yourself and Viv sharing words of adoration and happiness for your now public relationship as pictures of your kiss spread across the internet.

When Viv picked you up from the village to take you to breakfast at a small Parisian café down the road from the hotel, you both decided to officially, officially, announce the fact you were together. You took photos together throughout the day, her kissing you on the cheek, your hands being held between you, the way you looked at her. Anything of the two of you. You turned it into a collage and posted it to Instagram.

Y/N_L/N

@ y/n_l/n “breaking records and breaking the internet in the same week. there is no on else I’d rather do it with than the love of my life. Ik zal je in elk leven vinden.” (I will find you in every life).

This was the life you wanted to live. Forever. With Viv.

[boujiestpoet]

STARCROSSED

SOCIAL MEDIA/NEWS chapter 1: Appaled

NEXT CHAPTER.

MASTERLIST

Summary: Two people and the rest of the world discover that their partners ain't shit

FACECLAIM: The extraordinary Tems

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. THE BEHAVIOUR OF THE CHARACTERS DOES NOT REFLECT THE REAL PERSONALITIES OF THE INDIVIDUAL UPON WHOM THEY ARE BASED. I AM MERELY BORROWING THEIR PHYSICAL LIKENESS AND THE PROFESSION THEY HAVE FOR THE SAKE OF THIS NARRATIVE

TW: Cringiness from the writer, grammatical errors (have mercy english is my semi firsr language)

Heartbreak in Hollywood: Renee Bennett’s Devastating Betrayal by Boyfriend Ben Field and Best Friend Leah Dawn

By: Sarah Caldwell | Celebrity Insider

In a shocking twist that has left fans reeling, beloved actress Renee Bennett has found herself at the center of a scandal that could rival any of her on-screen dramas. The star of the upcoming epic “Northern Winds” has been blindsided by the ultimate betrayal—her boyfriend, model Ben Field, and her best friend, influencer Leah Dawn, were caught in a scandalous embrace that no one saw coming.

The Scandal Unfolds: A Shocking Revelation

Renee Bennett, who recently returned from a grueling five-month shoot in Norway, had been looking forward to reuniting with her boyfriend, Ben Field. The couple, who had been dating for nearly two years, were widely regarded as one of the most stable pairs in the industry. But all that came crashing down when Ben and Leah were spotted kissing in New York City, a moment that has sent shockwaves through Hollywood.

Paparazzi captured the scandalous moment late last week, with Ben and Leah sharing a passionate kiss outside an upscale Manhattan restaurant. The photographs, which quickly went viral, have left fans in disbelief and sparked a media frenzy. To make matters worse, Renee had just returned to the U.S., believing she was coming home to her loving boyfriend—only to discover this devastating betrayal.

Best Friend Betrayal: Leah Dawn’s Double Life

What makes this betrayal even more heartbreaking is that Leah Dawn wasn’t just any woman—she was Renee’s closest confidante. The two had been inseparable for years, often seen vacationing together and supporting each other through the ups and downs of fame. Leah, a well-known social media influencer, had built her brand on the image of friendship and loyalty, making this act of treachery all the more shocking.

Leah Dawn was also dating F1 driver Charles Leclerc, a relationship that had its own share of drama. Rumors swirled that Charles was on the verge of proposing to Leah, but according to a recent blind item, his mother was reportedly not in favor of the union. The news of Leah’s infidelity has now thrown that relationship into question, leaving fans to wonder if the engagement is now off the table.

Renee’s Response: Silence Speaks Volumes

Since the scandal broke, Renee Bennett has maintained a dignified silence. Friends of the actress describe her as “heartbroken” and “utterly blindsided” by the betrayal. Renee, who has always been known for her professionalism and grace, is reportedly focusing on her career and taking time to process the situation away from the public eye.

“Renee is devastated,” a close friend revealed. “She never imagined that the two people she trusted most would betray her like this. Right now, she’s just trying to come to terms with what happened and figure out her next steps.”

Where Do They Stand? The Aftermath for All Involved

As for Ben Field and Leah Dawn, neither has made a public statement about the scandal. However, insiders suggest that both are facing significant fallout. Ben’s modeling contracts may be in jeopardy as brands distance themselves from the drama, and Leah has lost a significant number of followers on social media as the public turns against her.

Charles Leclerc has remained silent amid the scandal, leaving fans wondering about the status of his relationship with Leah. The F1 driver has not been seen with Leah since the photos emerged, and sources close to the couple suggest that the situation has left him reeling. With rumors of a potential engagement now in doubt, it’s unclear whether Charles will continue his relationship with Leah or if this scandal has irreparably damaged their romance.

A Love Story Shattered

This heartbreaking turn of events has left fans and Hollywood insiders alike questioning how such a betrayal could happen. Renee Bennett, who has always been the picture of strength and grace, now finds herself facing one of the most challenging moments of her life. As she navigates this painful chapter, her fans are rallying behind her, offering support and urging her to stay strong.

While the future remains uncertain for all involved, one thing is clear: Renee Bennett’s story is far from over. This betrayal may have shattered her trust, but it has also shown the world just how resilient she truly is. And as she steps into the next phase of her career, all eyes will be on Renee to see how she rises above the heartbreak and emerges stronger than ever.

Author's Note: And I'm back as I promised how do you find the social media chapters, advices are always welcome

[leclerc-s]

prologue - is it a wonder i broke?

series masterlist

liked by arthur_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen33 and others

ines_sainz i am what i am cause you trained me. the after and before.

view all comments

user01 girl a soft launch? while we're still processing you leaving racing?

user02 the before being spain and racing and the after being monaco and no racing makes me sad.

maxverstappen33 pick up the phone! i just want to talk!

ines_sainz you know where i live. just come over? maxverstappen33 that's too far! ines_sainz get the fuck up and walk?

fernandoalo_oficial todo bien?

ines_sainz eh más o menos fernandoalo_oficial ay nena que voy a hacer contigo? user03 their father daughter bond makes me coo. it's so special to me.

user04 is the caption shade?

user05 but to who? her family? user04 i will go to war if her family forced her out of racing. user06 same, we ride at fucking dawn bitches

charles_leclerc fancy a game of goat simulator?

alex_albon OH COUNT ME IN! georgerussell63 if it's as bad as last time, count me out. ines_sainz only if i can invite my super secret friends. charles_leclerc oscar and logan are not super secret. they were around last time. arthur_leclerc and why was i not invited? ines_sainz charles said you weren't cool enough.

user07 the way she looks so sad in the after. i wanna cry for her.

user08 no cause i remember her saying, 'without racing i don't know who i am' and now i'm crying. user07 WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT BRITNEY??

user09 now where the heck is carlos? he usually drags her by now.

user10 me thinks that rumor from a few months ago was about the sainz siblings and not the leclerc brothers like everyone thought. user11 makes sense carlos would be jealous of his little sister for being better than he is. imagine helmut marko publicly saying that 'she would've been miles better than her older brother.' user09 sometimes a man's hell is a teenage girl.

*translation is included in the second set of texts

¡taglist!

@minmira95 @lesliiieeeee @vroomvroommuppett @prongsvault @justtprachisblog @scuderiadevils @cataf1 @chezmardybum @formulaal @lilsiz @norstappenvibes @ironspdy @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica @niniluvsainz @matchaverse @fakeikeastore @theseus-jpg @six-call @81folklore

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 @books-thingys-andstuff @nothanqks @yeanoskrrt @ale-522

¡leclerc-s speaks!

for now, it's a pre-established relationship, but i'll write a part later explaining how they got together (the bonus tracks). i just find it easier to do it this way for myself. the point of this fic is mostly to have them torment carlos. sometimes i forget that i like carlos. this is like the fourth fic where i make him seem like a dick. i'm sure he's a nice person but for the sake of this fic he is not. there are time when i don't like (miami 2024) him, but my problem isn't with him, it's mostly with his fans. anyways, hope you enjoy this new fic. the first bonus part should be out like sometime tomorrow or in the next two days, i want to post it before the first part.

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[shaunamilfman]

Being Jackie Taylor's controversially young gf

pairing: jackie taylor x reader note: let me be delusional lmaoo

definitely broke up a semi-serious relationship with a man she'd been dating for a year or so when she realized she would have to spend the rest of her life with that guy. In my mind she got really drunk one night at a sorority party and had an “oh, shit” moment and avoided him for two weeks before breaking up with him. 

i see Jackie as a news anchor. honestly, I think it would really fit her. always struck me as a morning person.

meets you at a coffee shop that she has to rush into at the crack of dawn before work. she's so fucking happy and in a good mood that it puts you off at first. like seriously, it's like 6 AM, why is she smiling??

Jackie immediately takes a liking to you. starts going out of her way to stop by whenever you're working, even though it's five minutes out of her way and she likes the coffee at the other shop better. 

she's so flirty, incessantly even. she derives so much pleasure from making you nervous. even with all the flirting she does, she doesn't seriously expect you to reciprocate her interest. she's immediately stunned and a little unsure when she realizes you wrote a flirty comment on her cup, because don't you realize how old she is? 

comes back in the next day and mentions it and is immediately flattered when you just shrug and hand her the usual before she can even order it. Jackie's so flustered by your attention that she leaves without paying. runs back ten minutes later and practically throws the money at you before sprinting back to work. 

Jackie really likes the fact that you don't know who she is. i mean, who watches the news anymore?? 

you finally catch a clip of her as the anchor and realize what she does. she gets so shy when you tease her about it. asking her for her autograph as a joke and she's tripping over herself and bright red

god, she's never like this but you just make her so nervous sometimes. makes her feel like a kid again and she never thought she'd like that. 

doesn't even cross her mind to be embarrassed or hesitant about dating someone half her age. starts talking about your college classes and one of her friends is like “oh, it's good they're going back to college at their age” and Jackie's just like “oh no, they went straight out of highschool 🥰.” doesn't even notice the way their jaw dropped as they're doing the math. 

worries constantly about how you perceive her. she seems so charismatic and confident that you wouldn't think she would be so insecure, but it's constantly on her mind. she's not embarrassed about you at all but she keeps waiting for the day that you realize she's too ‘old’ ever since someone pointed that out to her for the first time. 

tries way too hard to seem hip and cool. she spent hours researching how to use modern slang correctly even though she already mostly had it down. 

over the moon whenever you reference liking something from the 90s. she'll talk your fucking ear off about it if you let her. 

Jackie values your validation a lot less than she would've at 18, but she still really needs to be the center of your attention. one off comment from you can really have her off kilter for the rest of the day even if you didn't mean it. Jackie's more chill about it now, but she still has a desperate need to be liked. 

she gets so jealous when it comes to people your own age. there's so many spaces you’re in that she really just can't enter due to her age and it drives her crazy thinking about all the people who might be able to relate to you better or on a different level. 

such a reality TV fan. has you on the couch for days getting caught up on all 12 seasons of her favorite show before the new season airs. you just know she's got the best snacks though. 

ridiculously supportive of every little thing you do. if it has a competition attached, trust that she will be in the front row with your picture on a t-shirt. People definitely think she's your mom with how extra she is about it, but she doesn't even care. the crowd audibly gasps when she kisses you afterward, but she doesn't notice as she's too busy hyping you up about getting fifth place.

most considerate gift giver on the planet, I swear. she only gets better with age. it's so sweet and thoughtful that you almost tear up every time. 

won't lie about her age but also won't correct other people. your friends are like “what is she, thirty???” in disbelief when they meet for the first time and Jackie's ass is just like “... yes. that's it.” 

world’s most expensive makeup collection, i swear. it’s so expansive that you're almost in awe the first time you see it. entire shelves dedicated solely to it

sometimes when you get bored sitting outside the shower listening to Jackie yap you start googling the prices of things just to feel something. what do you mean that skin cream was $250???

Offers to give you a tour as an excuse to get you into her room. You’re looking around her one-story house like 🤔. You’re not sure there’s a single room in this house you can’t see from the living room, but you’re not stupid enough to give up that chance.

[itsjaywalkers]

a little silly jegulus for my darling @veryinnovative !! happy birthday ino MWAH <333 (very very light nsfw)

"What the fuck did I just walk into?"

Regulus doesn't even bother to look up from where he's sitting on the floor, head between his knees as he waits for God—or whoever is up there, really, he isn't fussed—to fucking smite him. He does, however, let out a pitiful sound, both in acknowledgement and as a response. It doesn't explain much, he's aware of that, but Barty knows him enough at this point. He doesn't require anything else from him.

"Yeah, I can see you're having a bit of a breakdown," Barty huffs out, and Regulus hears his steps, light and careful, getting closer to him. "What brought it on this time, though? I literally just went to the corner shop to grab some Redbulls. It's been 15 minutes since I left and you were fine."

Regulus makes another pathetic noise, still refusing to raise his head. This one is a bit more petulant, because Barty has a talent for bringing out his pettiest side, even when he's experiencing unknown levels of distress.

"Babe, I'm gonna need you to give me something else," Barty insists, before sighing heavily. His walking comes to a halt, and Regulus doesn't need to check to know he's standing right in front of him.

He groans, but decides to be merciful, despite being aware that Barty knowing about what's upsetting him this much won't do him any favours. Barty can be a surprisingly supportive friend when it matters, but he's insufferable when he's right.

Regulus lifts his arm and points to his left, hoping he's being accurate enough, considering he isn't even looking. He keeps the position for a couple of seconds before dropping the arm back down, going back to hugging his legs tightly.

Barty begins moving once again, but stops after taking a few steps. "And what the fuck does that mean?" Barty exclaims, and Regulus can picture him throwing his hands up in the air. It almost drags a smile out of him. "You pointed at the couch. Am I supposed to believe our couch attacked you?"

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, but doesn't deign that with a response.

"Because even if it did, Reg, I'm sorry to say you're gonna have get over yourself and your cute little breakdown. That couch cost us a fortune, and it's where Rosie first kissed me, so I refuse to—"

A sudden buzz interrupts Barty's train of thought. It makes Regulus' blood go cold, and he attempts to bury his face even deeper between his legs, a pained moan escaping his mouth as his face burns.

"What was that?" Barty mumbles, pacing around their living room. "Was it your phone? Why don't you have your phone on you?"

Regulus lets out a grumble, burrowing himself tighter in his own embrace while he listens to his best friend search for the origin of the sound.

It buzzes again, and Regulus is this close to grab the stupid device and throw it out the window, when Barty clicks his tongue, some ruffling following the noise.

"There it is," he says quietly. "Why the hell did you bury it under all the cushions? I know you're not a big fan of it, but this is simply—"

Realisation dawns on Regulus way too late, and by the time he snaps his head up, clumsily trying to get back on his feet as fast as possible but only ending up on his knees, Barty already has his phone in his hands. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, and he seems to be reading Regulus' notifications.

He's never regretted giving him his password as much as this instant.

"Barty, that's not—" Regulus starts, strained.

"Oh my fucking god," Barty murmurs, gaze fixated on the screen of the phone. He's not even blinking, and the stupid thing buzzes again, lighting up with a new message.

"Shut up," Regulus says, the blush on his face worsening by the second, as if it knows what's coming.

"I told you," Barty responds, still not looking away from Regulus' phone. "I fucking told you, dude—"

"Shut up!" Regulus repeats in a hiss, pushing himself up a little shakily but managing to regain his balance, not even hesitating before beginning to make his way towards his friend. "Give me my phone back!"

"No way," Barty snorts, dodging Regulus at the very last second, barely avoiding getting tackled into the couch. "This is too good, Reg, I can't believe you fucked up this badly. I would've killed myself if I were you—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Regulus snarls, cheeks aflame while he follows Barty around their apartment, attempting to get his phone back. "As if you're not completely shameless—"

"At least I've never been caught screenshotting my crush's thirst traps—"

"He's not my crush! I literally cannot stand him!"

Barty barks out a laugh, and it makes him falter enough for Regulus to get ahold of the hem of his shirt. However, his grasp is too loose, and Barty breaks away from it before Regulus can tighten it and finally take back what's rightfully his.

"Tell that to the dozen screenshots of his shirtless pics you have in your gallery."

Regulus makes an outraged sound, doubling his efforts, the heat in his face becoming almost unbearable as he chases his annoying best friend.

"That's an invasion of privacy!" he yells, grabbing one of the cushions and throwing it at Barty's head. He hits him right on the face, and it makes him feel considerably better, especially when Barty gives him his most deadpan expression. "Why are you in my gallery?"

"Well, Reg, after reading Potter's texts I got curious. I thought 'it can't be that bad, Reg is subtler than this' but it definitely can be that bad—"

"Stop! You're making such a big deal out of it, there's barely any—"

"Reg, babe, you have a folder just dedicated to James Potter's snapchats."

"It's for better organisation—"

"You must've been blowing his phone up with all those screenshots. Honestly, I don't understand how he hansn't blocked your creepy ass yet—"

"I know you aren't lecturing me about being creepy. You just aren't. Or do I have to remind you the kind of shit you pulled back when Evan wasn't giving you the time of day—"

"The joke's on you, idiot, Rosie is very much into my creepy shit," Barty retorts, stopping for a second just so he can put his hands on his hips and stare down at Regulus. "Although, I suppose Potter must like your freak behaviour too, considering how desperate he seems to be about getting you to reply. Not like I'm surprised, it's gotta be a boost to his massive ego—"

"Stop. Stop. Stop fucking talking—" Regulus lunges at him once more, but Barty is prepared every fucking time, avoiding him without breaking a sweat. "This is all your fault!"

Barty gapes at him. "How is this my fault? I warned you, dude! I told you people get notifications when you screenshot their stories—"

"Well, you didn't warn me hard enough!" Regulus schreeches, burying his hands inside his curls and pulling frantically. He feels like he's a breeze way from losing his shit. "James followed me back out of fucking nowhere, even though I was on my secret account, and then he began texting me all these things. Teasing me, making fun of me, always so fucking full of himself. And as if that weren't bad enough, then my brother also texted me just to sent me a voice note of himself laughing his ass off for two minutes—"

"I don't blame him," Barty snorts with a shake of his head. "Doesn't he live with Potter?"

"Yes. Yes, he does," Regulus mumbles, nearly hysterical. "And I really didn't need the reminder—"

"Sorry, sorry." Barty doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. "Listen, it might not be as bad as you think. Potter will get tired of you ignoring him soon, and then he'll give up and drop it, and this will just become an anecdote that we'll all laugh about in a couple of months. I mean, I'm already laughing."

Regulus stops trying to tear his hair out for a moment, narrowed eyes focusing on his best friend as he squirms in his place, shifting the weight from one foot to another. "You think so?"

"I know so," Barty assures him, and his confidence is somehow relieving, even though Regulus knows better than to trust anything that comes out of his big mouth. "You can finish having you breakdown, if you want, but you have nothing to—"

Another buzz cuts Barty off. The noise makes Regulus tense up almost unconsciously, because after today, he doesn't think he'll be able to listen to the bloody sound without having a heart attack. His shoulders relax slightly a second later, before going stiff once more when the buzzing doesn't stop.

"Oh," Barty whispers, eloquently. "Someone's calling."

"Don't—"

"Potter is calling."

"Fuck," Regulus says, with feeling. "Fuck."

"Yeaaaah," Barty drawls, gaze jumping from the vibrating phone in his hand to Regulus' panicked face. He's wearing that irritating shit-eating grin of his. "Forget what I said. I was lying anyway. You're fucked, dude."

"Shut your fucking mouth and hang up," Regulus snaps, heart beating so violently he can feel it in his fucking throat.

Barty tilts his head to the side, considering. Regulus gives him a warning look, getting mildly sick at the way in which Barty's smirk only appears to spread even wider. "Where's the fun in that, though?"

Regulus feels himself go pale, bile climbing up his throat. He swallows it back down with some struggle, his insides burning.

"You wouldn't," he mumbles, his phone still ringing.

"Wouldn't I?" Barty questions, arching in an eyebrow.

"Barty—"

His best friend is picking up the phone even before Regulus has finished uttering his name. Barty presses the device next to his ear a second later, and there's an almost manic quality to his grin.

"Hey, Potter," he greets, voice filled with glee. Regulus almost screams. "Yeah, yeah, he's here, why?"

Regulus shakes his head furiously, hands moving widely and forming cross after cross, despite Barty ignoring every single one of his signs. His best friend starts walking towards him, and Regulus retreats hastily until his back meets the wall.

"Oh, you wanna speak to him?" Barty is saying into the phone, gaze never leaving Regulus. "And it's urgent? Hm."

Please, Regulus says inaudibly, the perfect picture of desperation.

There's a pause, and for a brief moment, Regulus thinks Barty is about to take pity on him. Put an end to the joke before it ruins what's left of Regulus' dignity.

But Barty is Barty, and considering he seems to feed on Regulus' misery, he ends up smiling big, showing all of his teeth, before he gives James another affirmative reply and then he's handing the phone to Regulus.

He's convinced that Barty has never spoken this politely to James, but Regulus supposes that Barty is more than willing to put his hatred aside when the goal is to take the piss out of him.

Regulus clutches the phone and slowly, his hand shaking, he presses it to his ear. He doesn't say anything, but he lets out a shuddery exhale.

"Regulus?" James murmurs at the other side of the line, and the sound of his voice is nearly enough for him to drop the phone.

"Yeah?" he responds after a beat, the word coming out surprisingly calm.

"Finally done ignoring me?" James questions, and Regulus closes his eyes tight, turning away from Barty's figure. If he has to keep staring at him poorly repressing his laughter, he'll end up murdering him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Regulus sniffs.

"Oh, don't you?" James chuckles, amused, and Regulus hates the havoc that that mere noise wrecks inside his guts. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, love. I'm very flattered, you know?"

"I bet you are," Regulus bites back, glaring at nowhere in particular. "It really isn't what you think—"

"No? You haven't been taking screenshots of all my shirtless pics?"

"Not all of them were shirtless pics," Regulus complains weakly.

James laughs again, louder this time, and it fill his chest with warmth. "True. I think there was a couple of selfies, too."

"And that one pic with your little cousin," Regulus adds, because he hates himself, apparently.

Barty's cackles turn unbearable, and Regulus' fingers twitch around his phone. He's making a run for his room a second later, slamming the door right behind him, even though the walls are so thin he can still hear the faint sound of his best friend's laughter.

"Ah, yes," James hums, seemingly deep in thought. "That one threw me off a little."

"How so?"

"You see, I assumed you were just collecting wanking material—"

"James!" Regulus hisses through gritted teeth, so ridiculously flustered he feels mildy dizzy. "Don't be disgusting!"

"Nothing wrong with that," James rushes to say, and Regulus hates how sincere he sounds. How pleased.

"Really? You wouldn't find it weird? Knowing that I—that someone has masturbated to your pictures?"

"Well, have you?"

"You wish."

"I do," James retorts without missing a beat, always so shameless. "It'd make me feel better about all the times I've jerked off to the thought of you."

Regulus sits down on the edge of his bed, knees failing him and ears ringing. He swears he can feel his soul leaving his body.

"What?" he says, voice embarrasingly high-pitched.

"What?" James repeats it with a laugh, as if this is all very amusing to him. "Say, love, what are you wearing right now?"

Regulus pulls his phone away from his ear momentarily, blinking at the screen. The call is real, and still ongoing, even though Regulus is certain he must be imagining this whole conversation, because there's simply no way.

"No," he retorts robotically as soon as the phone is back against his ear.

"No?" James inquires, some hesitance slipping into his tone.

"We're not doing this," Regulus insists.

"And what's 'this', hmm?"

"You know what! I don't know what game you're playing, Potter, but I want no part in it."

"There's no game, love. I mean this."

"No, you don't."

"No offence, Reg, but I think I know what I want better than you do."

Regulus laughs, but it's nervous, and shaky, and forced. "And what do you want?" he asks, trying his best to sound as mocking as possible. Regulus isn't sure he does a good job. "Me?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I want you so bad it's actually driving me insane."

Regulus lets out a choked off noise, and the urge to throw his phone against the wall is so strong he has no idea of how he manages to supress it.

There's a moment of silence, and then, "Regulus," James calls him again, and he straightens up as a reflex. "What are you wearing right now?"

Regulus rolls his lower lip between his teeth, pressing his thighs together. "Just some shorts and one of Barty's shirts."

There's a sharp inhale of breath.

"I hate that," James grumbles, and Regulus can feel himself frown.

"Well, I'm sorry it's not anything sexy, but I wasn't expecting—"

"No, no, it's not that, love, you look gorgeous in everything."

Regulus puts the back of his hand over his mouth, despite the fact that there's no one to see his smile.

"Then?" he questions.

"I just—you're wearing his clothes."

"Who's? Barty's?" Regulus blinks a couple of times. "Yes, of course, he's my friend—"

"Just that? Just your friend?"

"Why, Potter? Are you jealous?"

"Reg—"

"Yeah, James," Regulus sighs, probably sounding more pleased than he should. "He's just a friend."

"Good. Good."

"You know, this talk isn't really turning me on."

James chuckles softly, and Regulus' cheeks hurt from how big he's smiling.

"Aw, man, really?" he whines, almost making Regulus laugh. "That's such a shame. I've been half-hard since we started talking."

"James!" Regulus scolds him, but it probably doesn't have the desired effect, considering his grin is basically audible.

"I'm serious!" he laughs, and Regulus shakes his head, leaning back until his back touches the bed. "It's not my fault your cock is so fussy—"

"Don't have a cock," Regulus answers without thinking.

James falls silent, and Regulus is about to take it back, laugh it off or even hang up without an explanation, but then James is speaking up again.

"A cunt, then," James says, and he sounds okay, casual, even if a little stiff. "Is that—are you comfortable with that word, or...?"

"Yeah," Regulus tells him softly, almost in a sigh. "I don't really mind that much, I just—I didn't want you to think—"

"It's completely fine, love. Really. Doesn't make any difference to me. And I know I shouldn't have assumed—"

"You're fine, James," Regulus reassures him, endlessly endeared by this ridiculous man.

"I'm glad, because I genuinely want to do this," James says quietly, like it's a secret. A confession only meant for Regulus' ears.

"And what's 'this'? Phone sex?"

"That, and a date."

Regulus stops breating. "A date?"

"A date," James affirms. "More than one, hopefully, but I'm trying not to push my luck."

"Aren't you doing this a bit backwards? Considering you're already attempting to get in my pants."

"Maybe. But I'm very impatient, and I've been waiting for this a while, love."

Regulus goes silent, pretending to think it over. James' tension is palpable even through the phone, and he delights a little in making him squirm for once.

"Okay," he ends up saying, hoping his enthusiasm isn't too obvious.

"Okay?" James repeats dumbly.

"Okay, I'll go on a date with you."

"Shit, really?" James sounds so excited it drags a giggle out of Regulus. "That's—fucking amazing, we're gonna have so much fun, Reg—"

"And about that phone sex," he goes on, casting a glance at his closed door, "you can call me again tonight, and then we'll see.

James' breath hitches on the other side of the line, and Regulus presses his legs even closer together. He hasn't felt this giddy in quite a long time.

Horny, too, but he thinks the wait will be more than worth it.

"Yeah?" James exhales.

"Yeah."

Regulus is already counting down the minutes.

[thelazyhermits]

Because I had so much fun with my last Skully drabble, I decided to make another one, although this one doesn't take place during the TWST 2024 JPN Halloween event, so the only spoilers here are Skully himself and how he feels about the person he's based on.

Rather than write a scene from the event, I decided to have this drabble take place in an AU where Skully becomes a member of Ramshackle Dorm after the event since I thought that'd be fun. Also, while it's not outright stated, Skully is wearing normal glasses here since I like that popular fan theory, and I want his pretty eyes to be visible.

Lastly, although my Yuu is female, her gender isn't mentioned in this drabble, so Reader is technically G/N here.

“Yuu-san!”

Much to your surprise, just after you come downstairs and enter your dorm’s lounge, you hear Skully, who sounds both excited and incredibly relieved for some reason, call out to you.

Seconds later, Skully, who had dashed from his seat on the closest couch over to your current position, throws his arms around you and pulls you into a tight embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

Once you overcome your surprise, you chuckle as you return his embrace. “Silly boy, you act like it’s been a while since we last saw each other, even though it was only a few hours ago that I saw off you and everyone else who had wanted to play some after school Spelldrive.”

When you look up at the much taller boy’s face, he pouts, “While that is technically true, I hardly saw you today due to us having different classes, and the few times we were together were far too short.”

His pout deepens. “And the last several days were much the same, because you’ve been sequestering yourself inside your room every day during your free time. That’s why it feels like it has been a while since I last got to enjoy your wonderful company.”

“Skully…” You murmur as you stare at him in surprise, not expecting to see such a lonely expression on your friend’s face.

As his grip on you tightens, Skully sadly frowns, “As of late, Grim-san and the others have been frequently inviting me to join in various types of activities, and while I am most delighted to spend time with my new friends, I can’t help but wonder if perhaps one of the reasons they’ve been extending so many invitations to me these last several days is to keep me away from you.”

“Could it be that I've unintentionally upset you in some way?” He asks, “Or perhaps my lack of popularity with the majority of my new schoolmates has resulted in a large amount of undue stress being put on your shoulders?”

“If I’ve upset you, I sincerely apologize, and I also apologize for being such a burden while I’ve been acclimating to my new life here at NRC.” Skully continues, “I swear, I will do whatever is necessary to make amends, so please…”

“Please don’t distance yourself from me.” He quietly pleads, “Being apart from you, my very first friend, is most agonizing, and I do not want to return to the life I lived prior to meeting you…”

Your chest painfully clenches when you hear those heartbreaking words. “Oh, Skully…”

Catching him by surprise, you gently cup his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Skully. If I had known you would misunderstand my actions to this degree, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to surprise you with your welcome gift.”

His earlier pained expression immediately disappears as surprise dawns his features. “Welcome gift?”

Nodding, you smile as you gently stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. “Since you’re the first student to join Ramshackle Dorm since me and Grim started living here, I wanted to prepare a special present to welcome you to our dorm.”

“Grim and the others all know what I’ve been doing, and they agreed to keep you preoccupied, so my surprise for you wouldn’t get spoiled.” You continue, “I also wanted to make sure you weren’t neglected while I was so busy since I know you’re still getting used to life here, and I didn’t want my absence to cause you any stress.”

Your smile fades as your expression becomes guilty. “But I obviously completely failed with that endeavor. I’m sorry for making you lonely, Skully, and for making you think you did something wrong when that couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

Once he overcomes his surprise, Skully emphatically shakes his head as he gently rests a hand over one of your hands that’s still cupping his face. “You have no reason to apologize, Yuu-san! I should be the one apologizing for my horrible misunderstanding!”

After gently removing your hand from his face, Skully tenderly kisses your knuckles. “Even though you were working so hard for my sake, I let myself foolishly believe you were like my past schoolmates and selfishly complained like a spoiled child. I’m ashamed of myself. Please forgive me.”

Just as you’re about to tell him that the only one at fault here is you, you stop yourself, because, if you say something like that, you know the two of you will just continue apologizing and blaming yourselves since that’s just the kind of people you and Skully are.

Since you really want to avoid that and you’re sure Skully feels similarly, you instead say, “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me. Deal?”

A broad, relieved smile rises to his lips as the tension in his frame eases. “Deal.”

His smile unfortunately doesn’t last for long, however, due to his gaze focusing on the bags underneath your eyes, which he is seeing for the first time thanks to you having removed the makeup you had previously been wearing to hide them.

Upon seeing Skully’s worried expression, you immediately find yourself regretting your decision to remove your makeup, so you could wash your face with cold water in order to rid yourself of some of the drowsiness that had been plaguing you all day since you put that makeup on in the first place to avoid worrying him like this.

After releasing his hold on your hand, Skully moves to gently cup your cheek and softly strokes the area underneath your right eye, frowning all the while. “Have you been forgoing sleep on my account, Yuu-san? I can’t say I approve, no matter how grateful I am for you being willing to go to such great lengths for my sake.”

“Nothing should ever be more important than your own well-being, which is far more precious to me than any kind of physical gift you could possibly give me.” He quietly adds.

With a guilty wince, you wrap your arms around him to give him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry, Skully. You’re right.”

As you lean into his touch, you continue, “Honestly, I really didn’t mean to give up sleep to work on your present. I just got so absorbed in my work that I ended up losing track of time, which is a bad habit of mine.”

You kiss his hand that’s still cupping your face before giving him a smile. “But I’m all done now with your present. I finished making the final touches right before I came downstairs, so you don’t need to worry anymore. I promise I’ll go to bed early tonight to make up for the sleep I lost.”

Appearing noticeably relieved, Skully brings his face closer to yours, so he can tenderly kiss the bags underneath your eyes. “I pray that you have nothing but the sweetest of dreams tonight, my beloved.”

A pleasant warmth envelops your chest in response to his affection-filled words and actions, which do a perfect job of showcasing just how much your friend cares about you.

Unable to help yourself, you take advantage of his close proximity and kiss his cheek. “I have no doubt I’ll have nothing but great dreams thanks to you. Thank you, Skully.”

As always, despite him always being so quick to kiss others, Skully becomes visibly flustered when on the receiving end of your kisses, although you can tell he’s also really happy since he loves these types of exchanges just as much as you do.

After taking a moment to admire his adorable, flustered face, you grin, “Since I’m all done with your welcome gift, how about you go take a seat while I go get it for you? I’m eager to see your reaction to what I put together for you.”

In an instant, Skully’s previous embarrassment disappears as he becomes noticeably excited. “I would love that! I am positively brimming with excitement since I know a gift from you is sure to be just as wonderful as yourself!”

Your grin grows. “You always say such sweet things, Skully. I love that about you.”

Once that’s decided, you and Skully finally pull apart, so you can head back upstairs to retrieve his gift.

Before you leave the lounge, however, you curiously ask, “By the way, where’s Grim? Did you get tired of playing Spelldrive with him and the others and come back on your own?”

Skully winces, “Ah, about that…You see…”

When you raise an eyebrow at him, your friend hesitates before finally explaining, “While we were playing, Grim-san accidentally threw the Spelldrive disk at a window and broke it, and when Ace-san and Deuce-san tried to fix the damage that was done with their magic, they unfortunately ended up exacerbating the damage.”

You face-palm. “In other words, you’re here now ‘cause those three are currently getting lectured by Riddle-senpai, who found out what happened before they could fix the mess they made.”

He nods. “Yes, exactly. As if somehow sensing that trouble was afoot, Riddle-san hurried onto the scene while Grim-san and the others were panicking and promptly made them all lose their heads.”

“Fortunately, I was spared because I had briefly left the scene to fetch a broom since I had wanted to take care of the glass before someone accidentally hurt themselves, and I currently don’t have any cleaning spells in my repertoire.” Skully adds.

All you can do is sigh. “If only my knucklehead sons could act more maturely like you, Skully, then I wouldn’t have to worry about them so much. Those three are such a handful…”

With a shake of your head, you head for the stairs. “Oh well, at least I don’t have to worry about dealing with them right now since I can just leave those knuckleheads in Riddle-senpai’s capable hands.”

While Skully chuckles, you hurry back to your room to collect the box that contains what you’ve been working on these last several days.

After setting the bow-covered lid on top of the previously open box, you head back downstairs with the present and meet back up with Skully, who’s once again sitting on one of the lounge couches.

Much to your amusement, Skully is practically vibrating, proving just how excited he is about the special surprise you put together for him.

Grinning, you set the box you had been holding down onto his lap. “Once again, welcome to Ramshackle Dorm, Skully. I hope you enjoy your welcome gift.”

He beams, “I have no doubt that I will since it’s a gift from you! Thank you very much, Yuu-san!”

Wanting a good view of his face when he sees what’s inside the box, you remain standing as you eagerly watch Skully remove the box’s lid.

And, of course, his reaction upon seeing the contents of the box does not disappoint.

Skully releases a loud, dramatic gasp. “Jack-sama?!”

All you can do is grin upon witnessing his excited, almost theatrical reaction. “There it is. The reaction I’ve been so eagerly anticipating these last several days. I’m glad it was just as cute as I had hoped it'd be.”

The elated boy, who now has actual tears of joy in his eyes, reverently holds up the Jack Skellington plushie that had previously been inside the box. “This is stunning! Absolutely spectacular! I’m overcome with emotion just by staring at Jack-sama’s splendid figure! Your sewing skills are unparalleled, Yuu-san!”

You giggle, “Thank you. I’m happy you feel that way. I worked really hard to make a plushie that looked as much like Jack Skellington as possible since I knew I couldn’t do him a disservice when making this plushie for his number one fan.”

“Because I know how much you love Jack Skellington, I decided the best gift I could give you was your very own Jack Skellington merch.” You continue, “That’s why I decided to make that plushie and a pillow that looks like his face.”

“Regarding the t-shirt that’s also inside the box, I didn’t make the whole thing from scratch.” You add, “I just bought a plain, black shirt and then decorated it all over with Jack-san’s face. I added in Zero as well ‘cause he’s just so cute, and I couldn’t help myself.”

Smiling, you reach over to gently stroke the top of Jack’s head. “Considering your room right now looks a little bare and doesn’t have much of your personal touch yet, I thought it’d be nice to give you some things that you could decorate your room with since I want you to be as comfortable as possible while you’re here.”

Faster than you can react, Skully sets the box in his lap to the side after setting down the Jack Skellington plushie and proceeds to pull you into his lap, catching you by surprise.

Your surprise only grows when, after pulling you into an incredibly tight hug, Skully gives your cheek the kind of fervorous kiss that would surely bring many people to their knees almost instantaneously.

“Ah~ Whatever shall I do?” Skully affectionately nuzzles the cheek he just kissed. “No matter how much gratitude and adoration I pour into a kiss, it simply isn’t enough to express how overjoyed and thankful I am for this spectacular gift.”

A pleasant warmth envelops your chest as you wrap your arms around him. “Don’t worry, your feelings are getting through to me just fine. You’ve made it loud and clear that my special surprise was a total success.”

“While I am pleased to hear that, I am still not satisfied.” Skully replies as he gently cups your face and begins tenderly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “A lovely angel such as yourself deserves far more for all of the kindness you have so graciously bestowed upon me.”

The warmth inside your chest intensifies when you see his incredibly tender expression and the pure adoration in his eyes. “Skully…”

Before you can tell him that he really doesn’t need to do anything else when the loving look he’s currently giving you is more than enough of a reward for all your efforts, Skully beams, “That is why I intend to completely shower you with my love and gratitude for the rest of the day!”

He quickly shakes his head. “No, for the next week at the very least! Only then will I come close to properly conveying all of these passionate emotions that are currently overwhelming me to the point I feel as if I could erupt at any given moment!”

You blink in surprise before your expression becomes incredibly fond. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I guess I can’t stop you since you obviously need an outlet for those powerful emotions, and I need to take responsibility for being the cause of them.”

Grinning, you loop your arms around Skully’s neck before kissing his cheek. “Let’s make up for all the time we couldn’t hang out these last several days, shall we? After all, you’re not the only one who missed spending time together.”

His expression becomes a mixture of flustered and elated. “That sounds like a most wonderful idea!”

Your grin grows. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

Because there's nothing you love more than getting to spend quality time with the people whom you love most. Nothing else could ever compare.

And that's a fact.

[cherryzlem]

My talk on the TikTok-ification of ‘I have no mouth and i must scream’

I personally have discovered ihnmaims recently and through TikTok but honestly, from what i've seen so far, the Tumblr community is way more welcoming than the TikTok community. I believe the ones i call ‘hardcore fans’ or 'gatekeepers' will try all they can to belittle the people who discovered the book/game through TikTok, like any hardcore fan does for their community when it gets famous on TikTok.

TikTok is very helpful to share media on and i have discovered many fandoms through it. But some people are so against ‘TikTok-ification’ that they can’t stand when people find medias through this platform.

When i see some people (again, mostly solely on TikTok) tell AM fans ‘ermm but you know he SA’d Helen ☝️🤓’ i cant help but think ‘yes ?? And he also committed genocide on humanity, keeps torturing the same 5 people over and over again and im very, VERY sure he did use a lot of not really nice kinds of tortures on them, but you draw the line at SA ??’

Like, AM is a horrible being of course, all of these are horrible actions but if someone, like me, likes AM its not gonna be because they think they’re a good ‘person’ (for lack of a better word), WE KNOW AM is bad, of course we do, HE’S THE BAD GUY OF THE STORY and he’s the kind of bad guy who cannot be redeemed but COME ON, WE KNOW THAT.

I love AM for his writing, for how well thought he is as a character, i do not love him for his actions. And i know some 'new gen fans' will pretend AM is not 'that bad' but you shouldn't just assume every fan who comes from TikTok is going to think like that.

Another thing i’ve seen people hate on are AM’s humanisations/personnifications fanarts when posted on TikTok. I know for a fact that these existed for a long long time on other platforms such as Tumblr but the arguments the haters pull out is that ‘errr AM hates humanity, i doubt he’d want to be human ☝️🤓’ but do you even know WHY he hates humanity ?? Have you read the book ???

The reason AM hates humanity is because he wasn’t able to express the creativity he was given by humans, he didn’t just wake up one day and decided to hate humans ?? If anything, giving AM a more humanized/personified image would be something he would want more than anything. If AM had been able to BE like a human none of the shit he did would have happened.

The only ‘argument’ im willing to listen to is when some people say that the whole point of AM’s character is that he isn’t human. But then again, are you against fun ?? In literally EVERY fandom with non-human characters artists will give them humanized designs, even if just for AU’s (take ‘The stanley parable’ for exemple), it’s not because the story is old and is an horror story that people cannot have fun with it. It’s not because it’s a deep story with meaning that people can’t do what they want with it. That is what creativity is for.

And my final point is addressing the people who hate on AM's simps. My gosh, these people have not seen the dawn of the internet if they think its weird to simp for AM.

People simp for Glados, The Narrator from tsp, horror movies murderers and more, and you're telling me that AM is the worst simping choice you could make ?? Let people have fun, let people have weird taste in fictional crushes. In other words:

Stop being allergic to fun, ffs

[ozzgin]

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”