#i don't expect them to stop being shitty any time soon

[seoafin]

pairing: fushiguro toji & reader / side pairing stsg x reader an installment to the exposure therapy au warnings/tags: mentions of sex work/escorting, gambling, don't read if weird teacher/student dynamics squick you nothing is meant to be romantic and toji is a shitty teacher word count: ~4.7k

-

“So,” Toji says, eyeing your lone figure in the classroom with a raised eyebrow. “Just you today huh.”

You look up from your book at him, and then your gaze circles the empty room, the three unoccupied desks next to yours make the room feel emptier, bigger. Sorry to disappoint, you think. He’s not the only one. “Just me,” you reply plainly.

Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko aren’t here. The three of them are in Fukuoka. Before they left, Satoru had boasted about a certain famous shrine dedicated to Sugawara no Michizane belonging to his family. Suguru had slammed his closed fist down on his head with a roll of his eyes, dragging Satoru away by the hair, leaving you with a smile and a promise to return promptly. Don’t go anywhere, okay? We’ll be back soon. 

When a sleek black car had pulled up to the base of the school, Shoko had reluctantly disentangled herself from your side, complaining about unnecessary appearances.

That had been four days ago.

You heard of a brewing storm in the area. You hope the three of them are staying warm and out of the rain. You hadn’t even expected Toji to drop in on class today. He seems to call out at the mildest inconveniences. The other day he had cited not wanting to see Satoru’s face as a legitimate reason to skip on his duties as a teacher. He’s the worst teacher you’ve ever had.

You close your book. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“Hell if I know,” he shrugs. “Got any ideas?”

You stare at him.

“Forget I asked,” he scoffs. “Right,” one foot is already out the door, “I’m out.”

He stops, back turned to you. Then he sighs wearily, as if you’ve somehow exhausted him.

You are promptly plucked out of your seat, Toji's fingers curled around the back of your collar. When you look at him inquiringly, he simply says: “Field trip.”

—

Your eyes water as you enter the pachinko parlor. You are greeted by the omnipresent acrid scent of smoke clinging to the yellowing walls and ceiling. You blink away the tears stinging at your eyes, and quickly follow Toji through the large room, passing by multiple seated older men, eyes glued to the bright machines in front of them. All you can hear are the sound of balls clacking and levers being pushed. From what you can gather, nobody has won today. It slightly amazes you how Toji thinks he’ll be the exception.

You follow his dark, foreboding figure to the back of the room, to the very end of the row, where there are only three other men. Only one spares you a glance. There are eyes all over the ceiling, scuttling about. Curses, you note, traces of all the ill will that’s gathered. 

There’s a wooden stool. He barely gestures at it before saying, “Sit.”

Toji gets comfortable in front of a large flashing machine, and proceeds to pull out his wallet.

You’re aware gambling is a vice. It’s not really any of your business what your teacher decides to do in his spare time. It’s not as if Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t being taken care of. If this is what Toji would prefer to do over buying the kids new school supplies then…

All that work into keeping Megumi only to gamble his time and money away.

It would be one thing if it was entertaining but…

He’s losing.

Badly. You never expected it to be like this. How awful. If it were you, your dignity could only take so much.

You think it takes a special kind of resilience to be a gambler, but more importantly it takes luck.

You rise from your seat to take a closer look. Not a single metal ball has reached the prize slot no matter how he tries to align his timing with the press of the lever.

You glance at Toji, face alight with a fierce concentration, jaw tight. You sigh.

“You’re losing.”

“Shaddup.”

You sigh again, turn around and seat yourself back on the stool. You open your book. You told Suguru you’d try to finish it by the time he returned.

Someone is hovering. You can see a man out of the corner of your eye. You look up at him, a skinny balding middle aged man in a worn suit, tie loose around his neck, and he nearly flinches. You can hear the plink plink plink of money being lost in front of you.

“Is something the matter?” you ask politely. You figure if anything he’ll ask you for your ID. Without the jacket of your school uniform, you can usually pass off any suspicions of being a student. You aren’t an adult, but you aren’t a child anymore either. You’re of age.

He hesitantly takes a step closer. “How much?”

There are thin, wire glasses on the bridge of his nose. You can see the perspiration building on his forehead. You tilt your head.

Anxious energy radiates off of him. His gaze is fixated on your chest. “Just for the night,” he says quickly. “One night.”

Understanding quickly dawns on you. “I’m sorry,” you start apologetically. “You seem to be mistaken. I’m not an escort.” The man blinks. You continue. “In fact, if you’re looking for one, you might want to look at the man right there.”

You wonder if Toji is into men. If it even matters. Customers are customers. Money is money, and something tells you he isn’t picky.

That elicits an indelicate snort from the aforementioned man. So he is listening.

The man looks dissuaded for a minute, before pressing forward once more. “I can pay,” he says breathily, inching closer to you. His eyes dart to your slightly spread thighs before going unfocused. 

Now, just how should you handle this?

You could take his hand, momentarily stop him in his tracks. You’d be gone before he gained consciousness once more. But you’re technically not allowed to use your cursed technique on civilians, and you don’t like doing it either, despite Satoru’s protests about the underutilization of your technique.

A shadow looms above you.

“You bothering my girl?”

You involuntarily shudder at the statement, but the man pales, looking up at Toji fearfully as if he descended from the parted heavens. 

“Y-Y-Yours—”

“Mine." Lips peel back, revealing bared teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Fuck off degenerate. Or you’ll be seeing my fist next.”

The man scrambles backwards, almost tripping on his feet. He gives you one last look before you watch him disappear through the rows of metal machines. You look back at Toji, gaze dropping to his empty hand.

“Wow. You didn’t win a single thing.” You think that in itself is a special skill. 

An irritated look crosses his face. Green eyes flash. “Damn things are rigged,” he seethes. “ All of ‘em.”

Just as he finishes that statement, shouts fill the front of the room along with shrill celebratory noises. You look at him. His face grows cloudy. You hop off the stool. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to give up.”

He changes the topic. “You look fine for someone who was just solicited.”

You shrug. “Nothing would’ve happened.”

Toji begins to trudge to the exit. A walk of shame. “He looked like he was gonna haul you off to the nearest love hotel.”

“I’ve never been to a love hotel." You had told Satoru and Suguru of your interest to see the interior of one once. They had both fallen quiet for the rest of the walk home. “But it’s not exactly the kind of place you go to alone.”

He shakes his head. “You’re a full time job, you know that?”

You look at him curiously as you step outside. Your lungs are glad to trade the smoke-laden air for fresh air.

“It’s a shame he didn’t solicit you instead,” you remark as the two of you start on a journey to the nearest convenience store. You’d like a drink. Maybe if you’re in a lenient mood you’ll buy Toji one too. “I’m sure you could’ve shown him a better time than me.”

“Dunno about that.” He gives you a scrutinizing once over. “A virgin like you? Hot commodity. ‘Sides,” he smirks. “I’m expensive.”

An unmarked virgin maybe. But any man would recoil from the scars that mark your body. All the assignments from before Shoko. And if not that, then the disfigurement of your side gifted to you from the man right next to you.

“That explains how you can afford to lose so much money.”

Unexpectedly, he takes you in good humor. “You’re a mean little thing when you want to be,” he says. “The mouth on you.”

You blink. Nobody has ever called you mean. Not to your face anyway. You think about it. Maybe this is what Satoru used to dislike about you, back when you hadn’t cared about how he perceived you. All you knew back then was that you said all the wrong things. Now you eagerly await text messages from Shoko. You like it when Satoru smiles, when he flashes you a grin so bright that you can’t help but smile back. You like the soft crease of Suguru’s gaze when he regards you. You like it so much that you can’t sometimes can’t breathe. You’re a different person now. Sometimes, you need to remind yourself of it.

Inside the convenience store, you select black tea for yourself and a coffee for Toji. You walk outside to him chewing on a pork bun and you hand him the drink. It’s a brand you’ve seen him drink before. He stares at the black label. You don’t expect a thank you.

“Tsumiki is starting middle school soon,” you say, staring out into space. “She could use some new school supplies.” Along that line of thinking, Megumi could use a new randoseru. 

He’s silent. You’d buy her some yourself, but you think it’d be more meaningful coming from the man who is technically her step-father. She’d be delighted even, you think, and Megumi for as aloof as he tries to be, can only be so distant when it comes to his beloved sister. There have been too many mistakes, too many burned bridges, but this could be a step in the right direction. You don’t think he sleeps at home.

The two of you enjoy the quiet. You finish your drink, and then stand. You’re in a familiar area of the city, and there’s someone you’ve been meaning to see.

—

“You’re late,” Marie scolds, hand on her hip. You close your eyes at the scent of plum blossoms wafting from her skin. “Think of me as one of your clients. Be punctual!”

“This one’s fault,” Toji grunts out. His knuckles dig into the side of your head with enough force to tip you over, and your eyes snap open immediately. If you were a lesser person, you’d be on the ground. You frown, your head sore. “Found her hoverin’ over some damn stick in the park.”

It would have made an excellent walking stick. You clutch your shopping bag to your chest. “Satoru and Suguru never complain…”

That’s a lie. Satoru has resorted to either holding your hand or staying attached to you at all times to make sure you don’t wander like some bodyguard. Suguru too. You don’t know why. You’d rather just find them later to save them the trouble of finding you.

“Make your boyfriends wait, not me.”

You make a face. He should’ve just left you. Despite that, you hang your head apologetically. It is your fault. You had become distracted multiple times along the way, and a specific distraction had culminated in the shopping bag in your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Fushiguro-sensei made plans to be here by a certain time. It was my fault.”

“Damn right.”

He’s a sore loser, you think. You may have said it out loud because his gaze slides to you, mouth opening with what you think is a nasty reply.

Marie shoots him a sharp look. “Now, now Toji. A man like you knows better than to run his mouth like that.”

“Off the clock,” he replies before stepping forward. A throng of women gather around him, cooing and ah’ing, hands skirting over his arms and chest. A man like him has no need to pay for a woman, so you gather they’d sleep with him willingly for free. And from the looks of it, he has a plethora of choices. You hope they aren’t expecting more. Like money. You think many women have been reduced to tears by the man. 

Marie clicks her tongue, and a collective sigh sounds the air before the crowd disperses to their actual clients, leaving just one lucky woman who pulls him towards the back of the room, towards the more private area.

“They pulled sticks earlier.” Marie looks amused. “It’s not often Toji comes around for anything other than drinks.”

You smile. “He likes your company. You shouldn’t discount that.”

Her eyes are fond as they look at you. Her fingers brush the hair away from your face. “What a man like that is doing around a sweet girl like you is beyond me.” She sighs, shaking her head. “He’ll corrupt you.”

It’s not that bad, you want to say. Not as long as you hold no expectations about the person he is. The only thing you’ll hold him to is being a father. But other than that you’ve found that you seem to feel a certain kinship with miserable people and your teacher is one of the more miserable people you’ve ever met.

That’s when you see them. A group of girls hovering behind Marie. They span from what looks like your age to a little older, and they seem to be waiting.

“Honestly,” Marie turns to them. “What have I said about standing around the front?”

The girl in the very front pouts, glossy bottom lip jutted out. “But Marie, you said they’d be here! Those two hot guys. I want the black haired one, he was charming!”

“Then I’ll take the one white haired one. Those sunglasses…”

“No, I want that one!”

“I’ll take them both!”

“As if they’d be interested. You’re practically made of plastic!”

“What did you say—”

“GIRLS!”

They reluctantly settle. 

“Toji’s students are they?” Another girl asks, voice breathy. 

“Not like that,” Marie says chidingly. “Those two respectable high school boys wouldn’t come to a place like this if they didn’t have to,” Marie glances at you. “And I never said they’d be here. You girls and your selective hearing give me a headache!”

“We’re graduating this year,” you say. You don’t think it matters. Jujutsu High is a year longer than regular civilian high schools. Nobody in your class is underage anymore. “I’ll be sure to pass them your way after. But—”

The girls squeal. Marie winces. You’re surrounded at once, the surrounding clash of perfume making you go lightheaded. Someone’s large endowed chest is pressing against your back, and both your arms. Someone is tightly clutching your hand. Everyone is speaking. Their names, their phone numbers, their availability. Not a single girl has listed her rates. You want to tell them that they should because Satoru and Suguru have money to spend. Special grades make a salary far beyond anything normal jujutsu sorcerers do, and that was coming from someone who considered their own pay more than comfortable.

You suddenly understand every single man in the host club more than you ever had before. You, too, would pay for the experience of a beautiful woman looking at you like the only person in the world.

Your face is hot. You’ve never been surrounded by so many beautiful women in your life. Satoru and Suguru and even Toji regularly experience this? You think that’s unfair. 

“GIRLS!”

“Satoru and Suguru are in Fukuouka right now,” you say apologetically. Shoko too, you think. But that’s something you’d like to keep to yourself, lest you lose her to another prettier girl.

The girls sigh a collective “awwwww.”

You are reluctantly let go of, on unsteady feet. Marie looks downright annoyed. “I should put you all out for the night! Stop bothering the poor girl, and get back to work!” She barks.

The girls slink away, casting you pleading looks. You smile. Something flutters to the ground. You pick it up. It’s a business card with a number written on the back. Someone had stuffed it into the sleeve of your shirt. You discreetly slide it into your shopping bag. You’ll give it to Satoru and Suguru later. Satoru, when he inevitably complains about how you hadn’t bought him a gift. 

And then you feel something more in your shirt.

“Those girls,” Marie scowls as she straightens your shirt and hair with all the vigor of a mother cat grooming her kitten. You almost close your eyes. “The new ones go crazy for a pretty face. They’ll learn soon enough.”

You follow Marie to the bar, unable to help your curiosity as you glance at all the men being entertained on love seats. You recognize some faces from the women that had surrounded Toji, but instead of the excited air that had prompted a frenzy around Toji, everything now is strictly professional.

The life of a jujutsu sorcerer is hard, but in a way you envision anything else. If you ever became a hostess or an escort, you’d fail. People like Toji and the girls can do things you could never do. 

Marie pours you a drink as you take a seat. It smells sweet. “I’m sorry about that,” she sighs. “How have things been?”

“Good,” you reply truthfully. Unexpectedly so. You’re visiting Riko next month and you are carefully readying souvenirs to take to her. No deaths (as of now). Suguru and Satoru are happy. Shoko is preparing for medical school. Things are unusually good. You pause. “I was solicited by a man.”

“Oh dear,” Marie closes her eyes. “Now just where has that man been taking you?”

“Just the pachinko parlor.” And the race tracks, but that’s a story for another time. 

“Not that seedy place!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you say. For you. “But I don’t think Fushiguro-sensei has a single yen to his name right now.” In other words: you really hope the woman currently with him isn’t expecting anything other than a good time. 

“Oh,” Marie groans. “Born under an unlucky star, that one. He just doesn’t learn.”

“I’ve never seen anyone so unlucky,” you reply gravely, sipping at your plum wine. “I am curious though. I wish Fushiguro-sensei hadn’t scared him off so early. I’ve been wondering about how much he would’ve paid.”

Toji slides into the seat next to you. There’s lipstick on his chin and smudges of it on his neck. “A cheapskate lookin’ guy like that? He would’ve shorted ya. Consider yourself lucky I was there.”

You frown once again. “Nothing would’ve happened.”

He eyes you dubiously. “With you? Who knows.”

You don’t have a reply for that. He’s right.

Marie hums, cleaning a cocktail glass. “That was quick,” she says to Toji. “Done already?”

He waves a blithe hand, not responding. You also look at him.

“Oh dear,” she says in mock concern. The corners of her lips are fighting not to tilt into a smile. “Old age getting to you?”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Why don’t you find out?”

You eagerly take a long swig of your drink.

Marie straightens, not in the least ruffled, gazing down at him with the countenance of a regal queen. “Things have changed since we first met, Toji. You couldn’t afford five minutes of my time.”

You nod.

Toji grins, and it looks devastatingly charming. “No discount for little ole’ me?”

“You bastard,” a derisive snort. “I’d make you pay more. You’ve never paid for a girl in your life.”

It doesn’t dissuade him. “You know I’d make it worth your time.”

“All this with another woman’s lipstick on your face,” she leans over and lightly pats Toji’s cheek in a vaguely warm, yet condescending manner. She turns to you. “Never let a smooth talker into your bed.”

“You know I do a lot more than talk, Marie.”

Marie rolls her eyes. “Toji, dear. Shut up.” She smiles. “I want to hear about those boys of yours.”

It takes you until Toji snorts to realize she’s talking about Satoru and Suguru.

“They’re fine,” you say. Maybe she’s angling for their wallets. It’s an endeavor you wholeheartedly support.

She imperceptibly leans forward. “Is that all?”

“No girlfriends if that’s what you’re wondering,” you report. You’re sure the two of them will make her money. 

Speaking of Satoru, Suguru and Shoko. You take your phone out of your pocket and stare at it. No text messages. It’s been like this for the last four days. They must be busy. You’re not upset by it. 

Just…

Maybe a little lonely.

“Thank you for inviting me out today,” you tell Toji. Well. More or less he had dragged you out of your seat under the guise of a field trip. But you’re still glad nonetheless. You enjoyed it. The school is too big without your best friends, and Nanami and Haibara were out on a joint assignment this morning. You don’t know what you would’ve done by yourself. You don’t like to be alone with your thoughts. “It was very educational.”

An eyebrow quirks upwards. “Was it now.”

You look at him. “Yes. I’m never betting on pachinko.”

He clicks his tongue sullenly. Marie exhales a wheeze of laughter. 

Then he reaches over to pluck your phone out of your hand. After a second, he tosses it back at you.

Your phone is alight as text messages fill your entire screen. You stare at it, wide eyed as texts start piling in, the latest from Satoru, Shoko, Suguru, or all three.

satoru 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:04] respond 

[13:06] what r u doing

[13:06] answer

[13:06] answer

[13:06] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] answer

[13:07] IT’S BEEN 4 DAYS

[13:09] are you mad at me

[13:10] fine

[13:10] don’t reply.

[13:15] hello

[13:20] hello

[13:20] hello

[13:20] hello

[14:05] WHAT FIELD TRIP ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW

shoko

[8:43] your phone is on silent isn’t it

[8:45] see u soon

[30 picture attachments]

suguru

[12:04] yaga said you were on a field trip with fushiguro-sensei

[12:04] can you tell me where you are?

[12:05] nowhere dangerous right?

[12:06] are you still with him? what kind of field trip are you on?

[12:06] this is inexcusable. you shouldn’t be on an unsanctioned field trip just the two of you.

[12:07] are you back at the school?

[12:07] you don’t need to be there. just leave him.

[12:07] please don’t do anything you would normally do

“Your phone was on silent,” Toji says flatly, if not a bit amused. “How old are you again?”

You’re too eagerly engrossed in reading your text messages that you don’t respond. Marie and Toji share a look.

“I don’t know…” you trail off, ungluing your eyes from your screen. Too many texts. You don’t even know how to begin to respond. So you don’t. 

A memory suddenly hits you. Before the three of them left you had been at a cafe with Satoru. While you had been in the midst of typing out Shoko a heartfelt response Satoru had snatched your phone out of your hands, clicked around with it, and slipped it into his pocket.

After then you had subsequently received no text messages. So he had put your phone on silent. You resolve to learn that setting as soon as you go home. 

suguru

[17:54] we’re coming back. i’ll see you at the school.

You excitedly stand, waving the text in Toji’s face. “They’re coming back!” You exclaim. “I’m going to meet them.” You quickly bow to them. “Don’t bother coming back early,” you tell Toji. Then you rush out.

—

You nearly run into Shoko’s open arms, burying your face into her shoulder. She smells like dewy grass. Back inside Satoru’s room in jujustu tech, the four of you are together. It feels as if they never left. 

“Welcome back,” you say breathlessly. “How was Fukuouka?”

“Wet,” she says, making a face. “How was your field trip?”

“Interesting. I think Fushiguro-sensei is the unluckiest man in the world.”

“Well, I don’t doubt that,” she replies. “I bought you souvenirs.”

“Me too,” you blurt out. Your face warms. “Well not a souvenir, really.” You give her the shopping bag in your hand. “I saw it and thought that…” that it’d look perfect on her, “that maybe you could wear it to the next festival…?”

Before she can unravel your impromptu gift, an airy voice cuts through. 

“So the two of us are chopped liver now, are we Suguru?”

“It seems that way, Satoru.”

“How awful,” Satoru sniffs. “After all the trouble we went through to get here early.”

“It was an ordeal, wasn’t it?” Suguru’s smile turns a hint menacing. Your fingers go sweaty. “I’m more interested in this ‘educational field trip. ’”

“It was educational,” your rebuttal is weak. 

“Is that right,” Suguru hums. “I’m looking forward to hearing all about it.”

You look at Shoko helplessly. She shrugs.

Satoru frowns, rounding on you. “I can’t believe you! Not a single text the entire time we were gone! Just what were you two doing anyway? Confess!”

“You’re the one that put my phone on silent,” you reply. “I didn’t even know. I thought the three of you were too busy to update me.”

Satoru opens his mouth. You can see the moment he realizes you’re right. His mouth closes. 

Suguru rolls his eyes. Shoko shakes her head. The two of them promptly slap the back of his head, earning a yelp from the white-haired boy.

“Besides, I haven’t forgotten about you two,” you say, thinking about the cards. Satoru perks up at the prospect of a gift. He’s surprisingly easy to handle at times. Like a child. It’s not bad, you think. Not at all. You smile, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a stack of cards.

“For you two.”

They momentarily glance at each other before taking the cards.

“Wait,” you pat down the sides of your body. “Ah—” three cards tucked into the waistband of your skirt that you hadn’t noticed before “—here you go.”

They stare down at the cards in their hands in silence.

"...Thank you," Suguru says, ever polite, voice strained.

You beam. “Your welcome. The two of you should go with Fushiguro-sensei next week." The two of them wear matching grimaces. "The girls really want to see you again." You look at Satoru. "Even you Satoru!"

"Hah!? What is that supposed to mean!?"

You're sure the prospect of being surrounded by beautiful women will make them more amenable to the idea. Shoko is laughing.

“Wait right here,” Shoko says quickly, getting up from the floor. A quick squeeze of your arm. “I’m getting your souvenirs.”

You turn back to them. “Was Fukouka fun?”

“...The same as always,” is Satoru’s somewhat peeved response as he throws you a box of mentaiko flavored chips. “Annoying old geezers nearing the grave. We skipped the onsen.”

The fact that Suguru doesn’t even correct Satoru on his words says enough. 

“Oh. You shouldn’t have.” It would’ve been a nice way to end their trip. You plop a chip into your mouth. It’s too salty for Satoru’s tastes, but you enjoy it just fine.

Suguru smiles. His fingers are playing with the edges of your hair, lightly tugging. “Next time, we’ll all go together.”

“That would be fun. I’d like that.” You go quiet for a few seconds. “I missed you two.”

Satoru puffs up. “Tell me more.”

“I was a little lonely without everyone. I think that’s why Fushiguro-sensei took me out on a fieldtrip today.”

In other words: he was being oddly considerate. In his own way.

Satoru deflates, pouting. You don’t notice, lost in your thoughts.

“Satoru, Suguru.” The two of them look at you. “If I were an escort, how much would you pay for a night with me?”

The two of them go silent.

[ughgoaway]

What was it like when neighbor Matty and girlie met 🤭

-Belle <3 <3 (love u)

omg, my beloved belle!!! good question my love

Ooooh okay, so I think you first see each other on move-in day. you're lugging box after box upstairs, pink-cheeked and sweaty in a way that makes you look like you're on mile 25 of a marathon. Wou were expecting to be able to use the lift, but there's a sign on it that says “broken until further notice” and judging by the dust that covers the paper, it's been that way for a long time.

You're dragging the last box across the floor when a man dressed in all black with curls peeking out the hood dragged over his head strolls into the building, he spares a glance at you and smiles, adjusting the headphones that sit on his ears. Despite them being plugged into his iPod, you can hear the heavy bass and mumbled lyrics in the room just because of how loud it's blasting in his ears.

He strolls past you carelessly, walking up to the lift and pressing the button. You go to grab his shoulder and tell him it's broken, but before you can the lift dings, and the doors slide open. You watch in frustrated shock as he strolls in, pressing the door close button and shooting you a wink a few seconds before they click closed. you don't take the final box up the lift out of principle, but by floor 3 you're wondering if you have any principles left or if you've sweat them all out.

But you don't count that as your first meeting, because neither of you spoke, the actual first time you met was under unfortunate circumstances.

Matty being a bartender means he really has no concept of other people's less nocturnal schedules, so when he comes home at 4 am from a shift, he doesn't hesitate to turn on the radio and clang around his kitchen making a grilled cheese.

As soon as the radio clicks on you roll your eyes and flip over in bed, dragging your pillow over your ears as you do. You try to let it go, not wanting to be that annoying neighbour on day one of moving in, but when he drops a pan on the floor and it makes an ear-shattering bang, you can't help but roll out of bed and storm over. You knock furiously on his door, gradually banging louder and louder when he can't hear you over the nirvana he’s blaring.

Eventually, the door creeks open, and Matty doesn't hesitate to look you up and down, silently judging your Winnie the Pooh pyjamas with a smirk. It's then you realise the hot mystery stranger from earlier just happens to be your neighbour, and a shitty one already.

Your eyes widen briefly at the sight of him, but they soon settle into a scowl Matty grows to know all too well. You huff lightly before speaking, “Look, maybe your last neighbour was more cool than me, or half dead, but would you be able to turn your music down a bit? It's 4am and I've only just finished unpacking. i'd like to sleep without Kurt Cobain screaming at me through the wall”

Luckily the man whose name you don't yet know nods, not dragging his eyes away from your exposed legs before he speaks. “‘Course love. Don't wanna stop you getting your beauty sleep, do I, princess?” his familiar smirk falling over his face once again. Maybe it was endearing the first few times, but at this point, you kind of want to smack it off his smug face. 

“Thanks. princess,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you walk back to your apartment, acutely aware of his eyes on your ass as you stroll. You turn back to catch him in the act, but his stare doesn't falter when you spin around, instead, he nods at you and winks just like he had earlier on, clicking his tongue before slipping back into his apartment. You stay frozen for a few seconds, but the gradual turning down of smells like teen spirit brings you back to earth, finally able to hear your thoughts again. It's then and there you knew he’d be trouble, and you didn't like that you couldn't quite figure out how you felt about that.

[implausiblyjosh]

Cohost Criticisms

The following was posted on cohost, which you can find here:

Being upset that people are like "why aren't the financial updates on time, why aren't you explaining the downtime" is baffling to me. They built this site on transparency! Their funding comes with the expectation of financial transparency! Regardless of if people should put faith in the four randoms running the website, people have and it's definitely worrying when the "here's the forecast on how long the lights stay on" post isn't on time.

Additionally, it's totally fine to worry about adding on a ton of extra workload to the site. Remember when the bug report page was overrun with viagra and gambling spam for weeks because no one kept up with it? Or when the site was down with no communication. Apparently paid Artist Alley posts got backlogged. It took someone making two posts on here about horribly bigoted comments on a staff post before moderation happened because the official moderation channels were not working (and the one moderator of the site was a bit of a self-admitted coward in handling moderation of a bigoted comment!). And now you're telling me you're adding tag wrangling, a feature that AO3 seemingly needs a volunteer army for, to your site with no plans of making it sustainable? Y'all seemingly couldn't get one of the other three people of the four person team on the ball with the financial transparency posts that are part of your funding agreement, why should we be excited or hopeful for this new feature?

I get people really want this site to work for them. I'd love for any new social media site to work for me! But unless something drastically changes, the writing is clearly on the wall that this is not that site.

The following is new for you, people reading on Tumblr:

There's a lot of stuff busted with Cohost, and while I think a large part of it comes down to culture issues, there are genuine issues at the foundation of the site. The company that owns it is an LLC, despite being labeled as a "not for profit" operation. But that really doesn't matter, they will never get a change to make a profit, because they're paying themselves "tech workers in silicon valley" money to run their site that makes no profit. Additionally, they have not found a way to crack that nut of profitability, being only funded by some pseudonymous wealthy friend, and with no clear path to "making enough money to get out of debt and/or pay staff", let alone profit.

So there are core issues foundational to the site, but Cohost diehards get extremely upset about the concept of criticizing or talking about cohost in ways they don't like, trying to paint people as bad faith as soon as possible. It's incredibly frustrating! A lot of those Cohost diehards are friends of the owners, so every criticism of cohost is an attack on the friends. You can see this here, where one of said friends of the owners is in my comments defending their "if you don't like it, just leave and stop criticizing my friends business" comments. At one point, people were saying that complaining about accessibility features was like whining to McDonalds cashiers and trashing bathrooms... when the site is worked on by the owners. There are no cashiers, just well-paid owners trying to sell you on a nonprofit fantasy so you'll buy ads or get a subscription.

I want the site to work out because I would like for there to be a semi-permanent place for me to exist online. However... it doesn't seem like that's gonna happen if they refuse to change and they keep up this shitty culture.

[nolanfa-fanart]

Funny batfam gen (non-romantic) recs

last rec list was not exactly happy fics, so to offset it, have funny ones:

Gen fic recs for @genuaryficrecs! Fandom: DC, batfam. Focus: Humour (most some also tear your heart out or engage in subtle character building, but you'll laugh while you cry) Humour is very widespread in fic (…in some fandoms at least), ranging from humour woven in the writing style itself, to situational absurd (crack), to making the reader laugh about absolutely horrifying shit (while still acknowledging how awful it is; which is something I feel I've only ever read in fic), to absolutely unhinged character reactions (to more I don't have in mind right now), so here, a small homage to that.

The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal with Bruce Wayne, by @theskeptileptic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51476074) Chapters 6/6, 25.522 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne

Type of gen relationship: uh. Concerned Adult to Kid? Parental-ish? Or just neighbours, depending on who you ask.

Official summary: Tim is an independent, clever, and super mature eleven-year-old. Unfortunately, his dopey neighbor, Bruce, can’t seem to understand that. When he decides to disappear on a “solo camping trip” and run away to Canada, he figures it’s the perfect plan that will make everybody happy. He didn’t expect the Waynes would tag along with him and ruin everything. A six-chaptered tale filled with identity shenanigans, s’mores, soon-to-be-brothers, and a kid who is in desperate need of a new family.

Why I love it: This is. Hilarious. The perfect mix of very competent Tim and him still very much being an 11-years-old. Himbo Bruce Wayne who just so happens to totally accidentally run into Tim several times to innocently inquire about his parents' whereabouts. The horrifying fact of what Tim is actually doing and how he thinks, in his very logical way (and the horrifying fact that his parents agree with him).

Excerpts: from: thenanny8725@aol.com to: bwayne@we.com Mr. Wayne, Timothy told me you stopped by earlier today. I am sorry I didn’t get to talk with you. My thyroid was acting up and I was sleeping. Timothy is a good kid. I can make sure he’s safe skateboarding so there is no need to worry. Have a good day! Sincerely, The Nanny

from: bwayne@we.com to: thenanny8725@aol.com The Nanny, Thank you for your email last week. Timothy is most definitely a good kid. One of the best. I saw him at the Army Supply Store this afternoon and he mentioned you would be taking him to Cheesequake State Park to meet a friend this weekend? My boys and I are heading that way, so why don’t we save you a trip. We’ll make sure Timothy is taken care of. If you need anything at all, for any reason, please call me at this number: 9088780078. This is my cell phone and I answer it at all hours, no matter what. Nothing is too small or too much of a bother to pick up for. Anything that you need, Timothy’s Nanny, please call. Sincerely, Bruce Wayne - “Anyway, I was on my way to the course, and I realized your father and I haven’t gotten a chance to really ‘hang’, as you kids say, and I had a late tee time, so I thought I’d invite him along.” Mr. Wayne’s teeth were bright and Tim wondered if he used some sort of diamond paste on them. He looked around Tim’s shoulder, as if he wanted to see inside the mansion better. Tim hadn’t turned on any of the lights on account of his shitty night, so the early fall haze that Bristol was so well known for didn’t do much for his visibility. “I’m sorry, sir, you just missed him.” A pause. “Well, that’s ok, son. Why don’t you get your mom and I’ll give her a message? I’m sure you’ve got things to do.” He looked at Tim vapidly, smile still firmly in place. “I’m afraid she’s not here right now either. Shopping.” Tim gritted his teeth and went to close the door. Mr. Wayne’s huge ham hands (why were they so large?) stopped it before it slammed. He chuckled and Tim winced. “Your nanny, then.” Tim wasn’t sure, but thought the question sounded more strained than Mr. Wayne’s usual flavor of airheadedness. “She’s sleeping.” “At eleven in the morning?” “She has a thyroid problem. I’ll let them all know you stopped by.” Tim pushed the door closed but Mr. Wayne had somehow entered his foyer while he was speaking. “I’ll write them a note. They can call me when they get back.” He inched closer towards Tim, who sidestepped him before he could ruffle his hair.

--

Ain't No Compass, Ain't No Map, by @ebjameston (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38048365) Chapters: 9/9, 51.863 words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Type of gen relationship: siblings and friends

Official summary: CPS Agent, pointing at Tim Drake: We need to take him with us Red Hood: He's fine where he is CPS: He's a minor Hood: Timbo, you a minor? Tim: Can't prove it CPS: I mean, I can. There are records – Tim, who has just finishing hacking CPS to remove his own file: Oh really, tell me more about these records +++ A CPS agent gets sent to investigate a tip that Tim Drake has been abandoned by his parents and is living with the Red Hood. The CPS agent leaves with no Tim Drake, a date with Red Hood's lieutenant, and an intern who's promising to fix the IT systems at his office. It's a weird day for Theo.

Why I love it: This is probably the first (non-crossover) DC fic I read, and to date still one of my favorites. It's. Listen. It's from the point of view of a Child Protective Services agent. Who, given his whole deal is to Protect Children, has Opinions about the Robins. And interacts - unknowingly - with them when they're grown (identity porn! Banter!). And he likes them! And they like him! But they have… differing opinions. And I absolutely love it. So. Many. Feels. And humour. It's 80% jokes and 70% feels and 50% social commentary about the canon and 20% plot and 40% fluff and 30% angst and some parts are all of that at once.

Excerpt: “Nightwing, wait, serious question,” Theo says. “About when you were baby Robin.” Max’s fingers tense up a bit on Theo’s elbow, and some of the earlier tension creeps back into Nightwing’s frame. “Yes?” “Did the Batmobile have a car seat?” “Did the what have a what ,” Nightwing says. “I’ve seen your stats from when you were just getting started,” Theo says. “You weren’t anywhere close to 4-foot-9. You would’ve needed a booster seat for at least the first two years you were Robin, so.” “So, did the Batmobile have a carseat,” Nightwing repeats faintly. Theo gets out his phone to take notes. “Yes. That is what I am asking.” “Buddy,” Hood says. “Most of the Batmobiles don’t even have seatbelts.” “How would you even know that?” Bernard asks.

--

IRIS Log #1548, by @deadchannelradio (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51647209) Chapters: 1/1, 8531 Words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: whole batfam

Type of gen relationship: familial

Official summary: A Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle: The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. - (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin- (01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood- (01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious. (01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route- (01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up. (01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

Why I love it: The format (transcription of comms) is fun. Also it's. Just. Really funny? The… energy of it? I mean just read the excerpts honestly.

Excerpt: (01:34) Nightwing: Don’t get mad, Red. He’s got a concussion. (01:34) Red Hood: (Agreeably) I am all bonked up. (Laughter: Nightwing) Hey. Cass. Cassie. Is my leg fucked. The right one. (01:34) Blackbat: It. (Pause, 3 seconds) (Reading) I am not your medical provider and can’t diagnose injuries or illness. Please ask your doctor when you are under their care. (01:34) Red Hood: Oh. Um, okay. Can you tell me as buddies? Not as my doctor. (Laughter: Spoiler, Red Robin) Just as buddies. (01:35) Blackbat: …Super busted. Bad. As buddies. (01:35) Batman: Blackbat. We are not medical- (01:35) Red Hood: She said as buddies. It’s fine. (01:35) Spoiler: (Laughing) The as buddies legal loophole.

--

Bang, bang, by Ididloveyou_once (@ididloveyou) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30246978) Chapters: 1/1, 5.563 words T, Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (an accidental gunshot wound played for laughs)

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd

Type of gen relationship: very much Siblings

Official summary: ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’ Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then- ‘Don’t tell Bruce.’Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.

Why I love it: Hmmm okay so maybe I really like a good Jason & Tim relationship. But objectively. This is great. Peak siblings relationships. The threat of Getting In Trouble forcing an emergency alliance between two mutually annoyed siblings who scramble to hide something? Peak comedy.

Excerpt: ‘Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that either,’ he pinched the bridge of his nose, ‘I just mean. Don’t worry about me being in pain. I’m fine. And don’t worry about looking like an asshole. You shot me, you already look like an asshole. But that’s fine because now we’re even.’ Jason sighed at the kid’s sour expression. So his words of reassurance needed some work, sue him.

--

Into the Brighter Night, by @shoalsea (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935463) Chapters: 12/12, 162,894 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Tim Drake, whole batfam, Young Justice team

Type of gen relationship: familial and friends

Official summary: When an unknown enemy threatens Robin, Gotham's vigilantes come together to keep him safe. Unfortunately, they're protecting the wrong Robin. Or: Tim Drake plans his own rescue. Things get complicated.

Why I love it: Oooooh not just batfam this time. Tim is way too competent, and the Young Justice have his back (and a lot of resentment towards the batfam). Hyperactive Young Justice energy, Very Good Characterization, miscommunication (as in Bruce -the whole batfam really- is trying but they're super bad at clearly expressing feelings). And the tone of it? The writing? Hilarious and rips your heart out. This is super interesting interconnected character dynamics (with the batfam and Tim's team that's so many more different relationships than usual) and a deep look at canon events, all of it wrapped in hilarious dialogue. One of my fave Tim-centric fics, and I've read some very good ones.

Excerpt: [Impulse on a long distance call with the batfam - minus Tim] Jay makes a disbelieving sound. “You’re telling me that Red Robin—Mr. Responsibility himself—helped you hide and maintain a secret spaceship for years? Seriously?” “Uh, yeah? Duh?” “No offense,” Duke says, “but that doesn’t really sound like the guy we know.” Bruce sighs. Stephanie huffs out a laugh. Impulse just looks unimpressed. “Are we talking about the same person? Robin numero tres, currently Red? The same guy who once hid an extra Batmobile in the batarang budget and shipped it to California in secret? The same guy who founded Young Justice, an unauthorized vigilante group of teens that started out with no adult supervision? And lied to the Justice League and the government to keep Secret safe?” “Secret?” Duke says at the same time Jay sputters out, “He stole a whole Batmobile?” “More like embezzled,” Impulse says. “But yeah, dude, it’s Rob. I know he gives off the straight-and-narrow vibe, like, 90% of the time he’s interacting with the public or authority figures, but that’s mostly because it’s way, waaaay easier to get away with stuff if you don't ‘openly project an air of defiance.’” “Oh my god,” Stephanie says. “He’s given you that speech too?” “He’s given us multiple versions of that speech,” Impulse says. Stephanie’s turned away from the screen now and is explaining to Duke, “Red Robin is kind of the definition of ‘I do what I want,’ but most of the time what he wants to do is at least nominally reasonable or responsible, so no one cares.” “And when somebody does care,” Impulse says, “you just gotta be sneaky and smart. Comply until their backs are turned, you know? I mean, even with the Titans we—what?” he pauses, spinning his chair, clearly distracted by something off-screen. “No, I’m just talking to the Bats. I think there’s a whole flock of them.” Conner Kent wanders into view, towelling off his hair and wearing what looks like some kind of maintenance jumper. “‘Sup,” he says to the camera, leaning in. “Superman’s not there, is he?” “Nope,” Impulse says. “Thank god. Where’s Rob?” “Batnap.” Conner puts his hands on his hips. “Dude. Weren’t you supposed to wake him up?” Impulse spins in his chair again. “Wonder Girl said not to.” “What, and he agreed?” “No. He might have been unconscious at the time. Which, technically, means Wonder Girl is in charge.” Conner groans. “He’s gonna kill you.” Turning to the camera, he adds, “Look, sorry about this, I’ll go get him.” “Heynowaitaminute,” Impulse says. “Listen. I’m the captain, you gotta at least hear me out!” Conner rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move. “Everything is still going according to plan, okay? Rob did in fact say that we should one hundred percent wake him up as soon as we could get a call through. True. But Wonder Girl said to let him sleep. And he definitely needs it.” “Yeah, but, again, he’s gonna be pissed if—” “Listen. I have thought this through.” When Conner just looks skeptical, he adds, “I have! I worked it out logically. See, if we wake up Rob, Wondy’s gonna be pissed off. At us. Right now. If we don’t wake him up, he’s gonna be pissed off later and he’s gonna be mad at her, not us. Therefore, we should do what Wonder Girl says.”

--

Beef Consommé, by @vamillepudding (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42348438) Chapters: 2/2; 14.230 words T, Chose Not To Use Warnings

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Type of gen relationship: siblings

Official summary: Parenting is Bruce's thing, and Jason isn't planning on messing with that. But when Bruce fails to spot the countless red flags about Tim's home life, it falls to Jason to step up. Of course it does. Because he's literally the only one in his family who knows how to be responsible, and if Dick disagrees, he can suck it.

Why I love it: I have a weakness for the "Dick and Jason team up and adopt Tim" trope. Also, I love Jason's voice in it. (and this fic is very funny but I feel like I'm repeating myself)

Excerpts: “Pizza?” Tim repeats, sounding hopeful. Jason is on the verge of telling him to go screw himself, but then he starts wondering how long Tim has been in his apartment and whether he ate dinner before he came here. Probably not. Did he eat lunch? Should Jason ask? What would Dick do? “Fine,” he says eventually. “But I’m picking the toppings, and you can’t have dessert.” There’s a beat. “I didn’t want dessert,” Tim says, voice taking on a bewildered edge. “What are you talking about?” - It’s Wednesday evening and Jason is getting pizza. Dick’s waiting back in Jason’s apartment, because growing up with Bruce has him used to getting waited on hand and foot, and apparently he thinks Jason is his own personal servant or something. It’s oppression, is what it is. “It’s not oppression,” Dick yells after him just before Jason closes the door, “it’s called losing a coin toss, asshole!”

--

Birds on Jaybird Street, by @cynassa (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39115587) Chapters: 4/4, 14.717 words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Type of gen relationship: Siblings

Official summary: Jason is both annoyed and weirdly flattered when the replacement turns up to ask him for help. He mentally rearranges his calendar so he can be free Wednesday evening and says, “No, fuck off, I have very important business going on.” Tim eyes his 72” TV playing Japanese wrestling more judgmentally than it really deserves. “Important crime things,” Jason emphasizes. “Make Wingdick do it.” Jason doesn't think much of it when Tim needs his help, or Damian moves in, or even when Dick turns up looking beat all to hell. But at some point he realizes that he might be the best option his brothers have to recover from the cycle of violence that Batman has set up, and all he can think is that things were much easier when he was the villain.

Why I love it: In which Dick and Jason decide to adopt Tim and Damian (Jason's kind of an asshole, but a caring one). Kind of the same reason as the previous one: love that trope, love the tone, very funny.

Excerpt: Jason lies, "Sure, I'll take it up with Bruce " "Sure you will, " Tim scoffs. Jason changes his mind, and decides he will take it up with Bruce. "I don't have the time to keep being your nanny," he announces and then says, disapprovingly, "you skateboard, why don't you have knee and elbow pads?" "I'm Robin," Tim snaps, like he didn't put pants on the costume like a little wuss.

[paisholotus]

Love You For Life

Summary: Katsuki's wedding day

Warnings: Strong Language & fluff

Requested By: Anon

A/N: this is inspired by the song Love U 4 Life by Jodeci. This mf long but I hope y'all enjoy.

Narrative

Six months later

Today was the wedding of number two pro hero Dynamite and number five pro hero Y/N.

The media was anticipating this wedding, waiting outside of the church, waiting for photos to be released from the ceremony. No news reporters were allowed inside, except for the photographer.

Everything thing was set up beautifully to their liking. The food was put out in their designated spots, and the tables were decorated according to vision. Everything was going perfectly, except for the groom, Katsuki Bakugo, hyperventilating in the back.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK! OKAY, KATSUKI, DON'T FUCK THIS SHIT UP! THIS IS YOUR WEDDING DAY....FOR CHRIST SAKES GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! YOU LOOK LIKE A SHITTY EXTRA RIGHT NOW!" He told, himself, holding both hands over his face.

"Damn, man, just calm down! You acting like you're getting ready to fight a villain or something. It's your wedding day. Just relax." Denki said, trying to calm down the angry blonde to his best ability. But being Kaminari, that's something he could never do.

"You think I don't know that shit, SPARK PLUG!" He growled, popping small explosions from his hand.

Katsuki was just extremely nervous. There is no way to front about it. The whole relationship of 8 years he was his usual confident self, but here on this day where he was getting ready to marry the love of his life, the one who would bare his future children, the one he would grow old with, suddenly hit him in the face like a ton of bricks.

"Bakubro, what are you worried about? I mean our whole friendship. You've been as confident as ever. You run up to your fears and take them head on, so you getting married shouldn't be no different. You know Y/N loves you, even with all your flaws, so go out there and show her why you love her." Kirishima said, holding Katsuki shoulder.

"B-but, what if I mess up or sum shit. What if I start panicking? I can't let them extras see me like that, especially Y/N." Katsuki muttered, looking at himself in the mirror.

"Alright, kacchan, stop saying this stuff about yourself. Neither of you has cold feet. You both have been crazy about each other since UA. I mean I've never seen a person love you with so much sincerity, even back when you acted like a fucking rapid dog." Izuku said, laughing along with everyone else, making Katsuki glare at the green haired man.

"The point is you're literally made for each other. So, even if you do mess up on your words out there, I'm sure Y/N isn't gonna love you any less. So get out there and do your best." Izuku finished, looking at Katsuki through the mirror, smiling encouragingly.

Katsuki turned around and looked at Sero, Shoto, Kirishima, Denki, and Izuku. All his best friends and I smiled a little nodding. They all did a small group hug and got ready for their best friends big day.

-Time Skip-

Y/N and all her friends helping her get ready, unlike Katsuki, she wasn't freaking out. I mean, she was nervous, that was expected. But she wasn't freaking out. If anything, she was excited to marry the man she loved since she was a teenager. Not many people can say they've made it this far. She knows the water works is gonna start as soon as she sees him standing at that alter.

Mina did final touches on her hair as her sister did her makeup. A gold crystal hairpin was clipped onto the hair and sprayed with hair spray for extra shine.

As she got up and stood in front of the mirror, she got emotional. She thought she looked absolutely beautiful. She turned around to her bridesmaids and to her family, waiting for their say on how she looked.

Her mother placed her hand over her mouth and cried, saying she looked so beautiful. Y/N waved her hands over her face, laughing, trying to stop herself from crying. She felt like a princess. Like how all little girls pictured themselves on their wedding day.

They had their little moment and got ready to have Y/N walk down that aisle.

-Time Skip-

The music started as Y/N walked down the aisle holding on to her dad. As she stared at Katsuki, the waterworks officially started. He looked so handsome.

"Could you just please tell me, will you believe in love and the promise that it gives?"

Katsuki's heart was pounding out his chest. He could feel it in his ears. You looked like the most beautiful woman in the world. There's been plenty of moments in their relationship where he fell in love with you all over again. And this moment was at the top of his list.

"I wanna love U 4 life, 'cause your love is why I live. Will you believe in love and the promise that it gives?"

They both couldn't keep the smiles off their faces as Y/N made it closer to the altar. They realized that today was actually happening. Both of them were marrying each other for the rest of their lives.

"But, now I know that you understand. I wanna take you by the hand and walk with you down that aisle."

Y/N waved at family and friends as she finally made it to Katsuki. She looked into his deep red eyes, filled with tears, and smiled tearfully. She reached her hand up and wiped his cheeks.

"Just please tell me, will you believe in love and the promise that it gives? I wanna love U 4 life, 'cause your love is why I live."

"You look beautiful." Katsuki whispered, smiling softly.

Y/N looked at Katsuki, feeling her eyes water again, "You look very handsome yourself." She said, chuckling.

"I love you." Katsuki mouthed.

"I wanna love U 4 life."

"Love you more." Y/N mouth back as tears slid down.

"cause your love is why I live."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The car door shuts and jars you from your daze. You look over, your head bobbling as you squint at the empty seat beside you. You lean against your side of the car until the door opens suddenly and you're only kept from falling out by the restraint of the seat belt.

"Oh, dear," Jonathan's voice startles you.

You frown up at him, rolling your eyes to clear the fog. The last few days, the last weeks, months, and years all flow over you. The displacement of it clutches in your chest.

Just a minute before, you thought it was Andy who left you in the car alone, that you'd just sat through another of his lectures, more a dressing down. No, you're divorced now and that was a very long time ago. You wince as your shoulder thrums and give a pathetic wine.

Jonathan reaches across you and unbuckles the belt. He catches you as you slouch towards him, his proximity suffocating. He is your boss. You need to be careful.

Careful or what? You'll lose your shitty job and your shitty apartment. Big deal.

"Come, darling," he helps you stand, keeping an arm around you, "we can't have you falling now."

You set your feet, your body heavy and stiff. Your hips ache from the waiting room chairs and that persistent soreness that never seems to go away. You lean on him as he shuts the door.

He angles you around and you look up at the building before you. It's not what you expected. You're not at your apartment, instead walking, nearly stumbling, towards the sleek modern architecture of a detached house.

"Where..." you garble around your dry tongue.

"Well, the doctor did advise you not be left alone and you won't be using your arm any time soon. I figure for the time being, you might do well with some supervision, rather assistance."

"Mmm, but..." your voice trails off as he slows and takes the steps with you one at a time, they're low and long, a rather tedious design.

"But what?" He wonders lightly.

You blink as he stops you again, keying in the code on the pad beneath the door handle. You groan and shake your head. You should go home.

"I'll be fine," you argue.

"It is only one night," he counters smoothly, "I couldn't in good conscience--"

"You're too polite, you know that? And so proper," you mutter and let him usher you inside. You couldn't stop him if you tried.

He turns you and sits you a leather bench next to the shoe mat. Of course, his place is luxurious and immaculate. God, what he must think of the broken glass in your front door.

He bends to remove his leather shoes before he comes before you, kneeling to unlace your black orthopedic sneakers. The ones from Walmart with the memory foam. They don't do much for your arches.

"Why are you so nice to me?" You mope, brain fuzzy as your thoughts escape before you can filter them.

"Am I? Or am I just decent?" He scoffs, "darling," he stands with a grunt and bends over you, looping his arms around you to lift you, "I won't presume to know much of your previous entanglement but it might be that you've accepted treatment lesser than what you deserve."

He guides you through a broad square archway and into an equally refined room. You dare say your ex-husband might just drool at the aesthetic. He takes you to the couch and eases you down, pulling several cushions behind you before lowering you gently.

You tisk and look away from him, staring at the black and white portrait of Big Ben on the wall. You don't want to be here, it just reminds you of how pathetic you are. Look at you, broken and beat down.

You close your eyes and groan. You wait, refusing to look, until you sense him back away. You let out a long breath and try to relax. The tension is just making your arm throb and you don't have the energy to maintain it.

He returns and drapes a blanket over you.

"This should do for the time being. I've brought some lounge clothes you may borrow when you feel up to changing out of that uniform. Those things are not very comfortable," he chuckles, "I might make you some tea?"

"I'm fine," you grumble, letting your eyes open just slightly. Your head lolls as you feel ready to doze.

"If you'd rather sleep, that is probably best," he aquiesces.

"Hm," you sniff.

He lets out another soft laugh, "what? You disapprove of something?"

"No," you growl.

"You must. If it is some flaw I possess, I don't mind changing--"

"You," you snip, "you're too handsome and rich to be doing all this for me."

"Handsome?" He repeats coyly.

"Don't even try to pretend you don't know," your eyes close as you babble, "tall and blonde and... strong. I'm a divorcee who can't afford brand name mac and cheese." You yawn and sink back into the pillows, "I know it's only pity. Rich guys just wanna stroke their egos."

The words blaze in your mind as somewhere deep down, you know you shouldn't say them. You can't worry about your rambling as the painkillers mute any strand of sense left in you. He is right, sleep is best, sleep is your only escape.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter Fourteen: S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus, Sister!Reader x James Potter, Potter!Reader x Friend!Sirius

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, Umbridge, Fudge, Harry is a little shit, swearing, not proofread

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: To those who celebrate, Happy Thanksgiving!

Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1775

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

Not even a few days into the term, Harry had already received detention from Professor Umbridge. Now the toad-like woman never told Y/N exactly why he was given detention, just that he had lied to her about something and she didn’t appreciate that. She then proceeded to blame the Herbology professor’s parenting for the boy’s behavior. This was her first sign that something was up with the new professor and then she saw her nephew’s hand the day after his detention. It was scabbed over with the words ‘I must not tell lies’ carved into his hand.

“Harry, what happened to your hand?” Y/N pulled him aside to ask him the question. 

“It’s nothing Aunt Y/N, I promise,” Harry replied.

“Don’t hide this from me. Tell me what happened and how you got those words on your hand.”

“It was my detention with Professor Umbridge. She used some kind of quill that carves the words into your hand as you write them. She told me to stop lying about the return of Voldemort but she wasn’t there! I was there! I saw him!”

“I know, my boy, I know. I’ll handle this, okay? Go see Madame Pomphrey, she’ll give you something so that won’t scar,” She instructed her nephew. To say that the woman was furious was an understatement, so she stormed her way up to the headmaster’s office where Dumbledore and Umbridge were sitting and talking with the Minister of Magic. “You foul woman! How dare you use a cursed quill on a child! You should be sent to Azkaban for what you did to my nephew!” She yelled at the woman drowning in pink.

“Whatever do you mean Professor Potter? I would never do such a thing,” Umbridge said innocently.

“Look at Harry’s hand! It’s all scabbed up with the line YOU made him write for telling the truth! He does not lie! I raised him better than that!”

“Are you sure you raised him at all? I mean the poor boy looks quite disheveled all the time, his clothes are all worn down and his shoes are atrocious. I thought you came from a wealthy pure-blood family, Miss Potter?” Umbridge picked at her. She wanted a reaction and boy did she get one.

“I swear to Godric I will kill you if you speak ill of my family once more! Harry has new clothes and shoes, he just doesn’t want to wear them yet! And my family’s financial status has nothing to do with it! Nor does the blood status! Who cares about blood status?! Albus, Minister, if you two don’t take action, I certainly will and you will not like what I will do to this loathsome toad disguised as a woman,” Y/N was panting with anger, the longer she looked at the woman, the more she wanted to pounce at her and beat the shit out of her. However, she knew she couldn’t do that, not with the minister around, she had to be on her best behavior which she also wasn’t following.

“Did you need something, Dumbledore? I was interrupted in the middle of my lesson,” A familiar and calming voice stated behind her, however calming it was, she was still amped up and rearing to have a go at the pink toad. 

“Ah Severus, nice of you to join us. I wish to speak to you and Miss Potter privately,” Albus responded, “Professor, minister, I hope you don’t mind waiting a few moments. I need to speak to these two about a rather urgent matter.” Umbridge and the minister left the room and waited outside to be called back in. 

“What’s going on, why are you so upset, love?” Severus asked her.

“That toad out there is torturing the students! She used some kind of cursed quill on Harry that carved whatever he wrote on paper on his skin. He has ‘I must not tell lies’ carved on his hand for Salazar’s sake! Hasn’t there been enough shitty professors here in that same position?”

“I understand your frustration Y/N, however there is not much I can do here. They have begun to dwindle my authority in this school and that starts with not having the ability to dismiss Professor Umbridge. She was hired by the Minister, not by me so it is the Minister’s doing if it comes to dismissing her or not,” Dumbledore explained.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Albus! You’ve been ignoring Harry since the beginning of the term and now you’re just letting this slide?! Like this isn’t child abuse or torture?!” She screamed at the man.

“Why don’t you head to the hospital wing with Harry, love. I’ll handle this, you need to be with him right now,” Severus stepped in trying to diffuse the situation.

“If nothing gets done about this I will leave my position and take Harry with me, no matter how much I love this school and no matter how much Harry does, I cannot allow my boy to be tortured like this! He is my son! He is mine to care for and protect! And with that toad around, I can’t protect him!” She threatened before storming out of the office. She quite literally ran into Umbridge on her way out, nearly knocking the woman over, but she kept walking. 

She kept her pace until she had made it to the doors of the hospital wing, taking a deep breath before entering and locating her nephew. He was sitting in the bed, Madame Pomphrey applying a healing ointment to his hand to help the scarring. His eyes lit up when he saw his aunt, a smile making its way to his face, brightening his features. She had noticed that Harry and James have the same smile, one so big that it will light up a whole room, it was uncanny really.

“Harry, my love, how’s your hand feeling? Any better?” Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice steady and calm even though she was still seething inside.

“A lot better actually. Did you talk to Dumbledore?”

“I did. Harry, there’s nothing he can do. The Minister hired her so that means that Dumbledore can’t do anything. The Minister seemed rather unphased. Look, love, if nothing gets done, we will be leaving Hogwarts and going elsewhere. I can’t have you at risk again, we can go find somewhere safe, maybe go to America, I heard Ilvermorny is one of the best wizarding schools in the world.”

“I don’t want to leave! That’s not fair, you can’t take me away from my friends for something so little! And you can’t just leave Hogwarts and the Order! That’s not the right thing to do!” Harry argued.

“It’s the right thing to do in terms of your safety! That is my number one priority, YOU are my number one priority!” Y/N replied, getting frustrated with the situation once again.

“I am not leaving. Hogwarts is my home! Hogwarts is where my family is! And you want to take me away from that?!” 

“What about our home? What about me? Am I not your family anymore?”

“No, not if you take me away from here. Hogwarts is my home, it’s where I feel the safest, where I feel the most welcomed!” With that, Y/N walked out of the hospital wing, not wanting to continue the argument and make the matter worse. She felt like every time she took a step forward in the right direction, she took three steps back not even a week later. She couldn’t catch a break.

She didn’t get what Harry didn’t understand, and sure it was unfair but did he not consider his safety? His aunt’s sanity? She had almost landed a one way ticket to St. Mungos during the summer, after spending the whole holiday awake and rushing to calm Harry down after a nightmare. She made it back to her quarters in no time, Severus already there waiting for her to return. “What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, seeing the look on her face knowing that something was bothering her.

“Harry told me he won’t consider me family if I pull him out of Hogwarts. I just want to keep him safe, Severus. That is all I want and I can’t have the peace of mind with Umbridge here because can torture the students and get away with it because Fudge sucks and will do anything that toad will ask of him. The students aren’t learning anything in her class nor are they practicing and then she is observing me tomorrow and I know it’s going to be bad because I yelled at her in front of Dumbledore and Fudge and I’m gonna get sacked and have nobody until the holidays. I’m overwhelmed, I’m so overwhelmed and I don’t know what to do anymore. Nothing I do will make Harry happy and all I want for him is to be safe and happy. It’s getting to be too much for me, Sev, I don’t think I can handle this by myself anymore,” She ranted to her partner. Severus was quiet for a moment, processing everything she had said before he formulated his response.

“Firstly, I don’t think she’ll sack you for yelling at her, she has to observe the way you teach before making that decision, you are a fantastic professor, you will be fine. Secondly, Harry doesn’t understand it because he’s a teenager, everything is about him and his friends, nobody else. He doesn’t want to get taken away from his friends which is understandable, however, the way he spoke to you is not okay, he needs to learn to treat you with respect. Thirdly, you don’t have to do this alone anymore, I’m here. I will always be here, call me for help, if you need me to handle Harry, I can handle Harry. You are the love of my life and that boy is a part of you, he is part of my life too and he is a big part. I will do anything for the both of you, always. Just say the word and I will be right by your sides,” Severus replied, his voice filled with understanding and love.

She rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his middle and holding onto him tightly. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck as she breathed in his scent and listened to his breathing. Severus wrapping his arms around her almost instantly and holding her just as tight, his head resting on top of hers. “Thank you,” She whispered to him.

taglist (if your user is crossed out it means I can't tag you)

@acupnoodle @chxelsxaa @fluffyrat365 @fanficwriter5 @atanukileaf @v3lv3tvampir3 @jspidey5 @mija-novella @leo4242564 @crazyunsexycool @livillain00

[badgallly]

KylianXReader Smut

Where Reader is married to Kylian and he has been coming home late, causing a heated argument between the two that ends up in SMUT.

Hi guys how are you ? i've never written a smut before, here's my first smut from kylian, which is also a request from a follower. It's simple… but I hope you like it. Constructive criticism is always welcome too <3 make requests!! xoxo and stay with god <3

ps: english is not my first language ;)

I have been married to Kylian for just over 2 years, but I feel like our marriage is going downhill by the day. A few months ago Kylian started coming home late, always with a lame excuse.

And today is another one of those days. I wake up, run my hand over the sheets and feel the empty space. Again…this has become a daily routine for me. I take my cell phone and look at the time, it's just over 1:30 in the morning. Again kylian will be late. I wake up quickly and a mix of emotions take over my body, anger and disappointment. these are the feelings that most describe me right now! Just thinking that kylian might be out there making out with another bitch makes my blood boil. As Beyoncé's Hold Up song says, I don't know what's worse looking jealous or crazy.

I take a deep breath trying to calm myself down, and wait for Kylian to get home and have a serious talk with him. Today he doesn't escape me, I'm tired of being the silent wife who swallows all his lame excuses. Today this little story of his will end once and for all!! I go back to bed just waiting for Kylian to arrive, which doesn't take long to happen.

I hear keys jingle downstairs. He arrived. I hear your footsteps going up the stairs. I'm going to pretend I'm sleeping to see his sly face.

Soon the door opens, he's wearing a long-sleeved Dior shirt, sweatpants and white sneakers. Very cool for someone who would only go to a 'fraternization' of team. He looks at me, then turns his back to get out of his clothes and into something more comfortable. soon he goes to the balcony as he usually does every night, enjoying the parisian night .

I give a slight cough and then kylian turns immediately, landing her eyes on me:

_did i wake you up mon amour? Sorry!

_ you wake me up every week kylian, with your PSG fraternizations or whatever other shit you insist on coming up with.

_what ? What are y/n talking about?

_ Don't make a fool of yourself kylian, I'm not an idiot, I'm fed up with your lies and you getting home every day at dawn, you don't even pay attention to me anymore kylian!

_ y/n stop raving, you know very well that I work in one of the biggest clubs in the world and not to mention that I'm a member of it, so it's to be expected that I have more work than usual.

_ it works? So you call parties and work meetings? This isn't the first time kylian, you've been doing this for months and I've been quiet just watching, but enough! _ I say screaming and without more patience. Continuous:

_say screaming and without any more patience. Continuous: _I want the truth, do you have a lover or what? It is better to speak once and for all!

_what ? says kylian horrified _y/n you are completely crazy, you married me knowing who I am and what my life as an athlete would be like, I'm arriving late because of club meetings because of the new Champions League season, and get-togethers are part of that, I can't just ignore it them or leave them aside, I've already called you for most of them, you who never wanted to come, I'm not going to stop my life because of your whims! Says kylian also changing her voice.

_ It's always the same crap, the typical cheating man who blames his wife for his shitty mistakes. Fuck Kylian! I say screaming, I can't take it anymore with so much anger.

that moment kylian's gaze darkens looking at me for a few seconds a shiver goes up my spine as he approaches me holding my arm tightly to the bedroom _ Let go of me, let go of me! I say trying to free myself from Kylian's grip

He turns me around sharply, now gripping my waist tightly. _ Respect me y/n! Kylian says in a serious and angry voice when her eyes now filled with pure lust land on my body that is in a pink silk nightgown. I notice a bulge growing in his pants which turns me on. _Now you're going to pay me for your filthy little mouth and your lack of trust in me you little bitch.

He takes me to the bed and gets on top of me. Kylian starts to suck my neck which I'm sure will leave the purple mark afterwards. He lowers his hand to my panties, pulling them away and putting two fingers inside my pussy

_Isn't it attention you want? That's what I'm going to give you, but then don't complain if you can't walk tomorrow_ says kylian pushing her fingers inside me.

_ so wet for me, hot _ he makes back and forth movements slowly with his fingers making me moan his name

_kyliannn please

_please what a naughty bitch?

_ faster kyky

_ I want you to come on my fingers, ma belle he sticks his fingers in my center hitting my g-spot my mind goes blank and I start seeing stars, I can't feel my body anymore _Vou cum kyky! I say before I melt in your fingers I come in your fingers. He withdraws his fingers, placing them in his mouth with my liquid.

_Delicious He takes off my panties and pulls down his sweats along with his boxers, revealing his big, thick cock. I may have been married for 2 years to Kylian, but I still haven't gotten used to her size

_ of four now!! My legs were still shaking from the orgasm I just had. he orders and I immediately do what he says getting on all fours on the bed. He places his tip at my entrance making me gasp again.

he pushes his length at once making back and forth movements slowly making me adapt to his great length making me moan

_so tight my doll

_Kylian! I moaned loudly closing my eyes as he increases the thrusts he holds my face

_look at me ma belle he pulls my hair making me look at him. I look at kylian who is looking into my eyes as he starts increasing the beats on me he holds my breasts squeezing really hard

_says you're only mine and that tight pussy too

_ I'm just yours Kylian, my body is all yours! I speak weakly, the words barely making it out of my mouth.

_ Now be the good little bitch you are and cum on my dick

_keep moaning until I feel like I'm going to

_I to cum kylian...

as soon as I speak, immediately another orgasm hits me deliberately around Kylian's cock. my body goes limp but kylian keeps pushing deep and then releases his cum deep inside me and stays there for a few seconds before pulling out of me Then he kisses me, a long passionate kiss: _ je t'aime mon amour !

_I love you too Kylian! I say looking into your eyes

_I could never betray you y/n you are the only woman in my life, I only have eyes for you… you are the woman of my life y/n, I want to have children with you, you are my safe haven. I'm sorry I haven't paid attention to you lately and I made these mistakes with you I promise to be a better husband y/n I love you ma belle

_ It's okay, I forgive you… I love you too Kylian He kisses me again sweet and slow i really love him…

[transpersian]

Did you really go on Poppy’s stream to harass her? Christ, it looks like your friends from Kiwi Farms are rubbing off on you. Did you really think that move would convince people you aren’t a vindictive and malicious ex?

So let me get this straight: you think that I went on their directly controlled gg site to "harass" them, where they would easily and quickly be able to ban me, and for the first and only message guaranteed to go through, I picked "oh hey am I somehow unblocked? lol" as the best way to hurt them in that moment?

Please, I am begging you to think about how absurd of an accusation that is. While I'm sure that they've made a convincing case in isolation for why I'm insane, I would hope that I haven't come across as completely fucking stupid.

Here, you can look at the whole clip yourself. See what I said. Does that seem like someone who's locked and loaded for some prime harassin' time?

lol

No, what happened was that I went to their GG site for the stream because I like being able to scroll through chat if I miss something. I noticed my old account was still accessible, so, being the silly little dipshit ball of chaos that I am most of the time, I typed what I typed and hit "send," fully expecting it to reject the message.

It did not, and I immediately regretted my actions to the level of shouting, "Oh no, oh NO! OH SHIT."

It was very funny, but not nearly as funny as watching Poppy try to navigate the moment live. "You don't get to be in my chat" was particularly good; I literally don't care. I have no use for their chat. What am I going to do, argue live with their fans who have absolutely no context or reason to listen to me? No.

There are a lot of people getting involved here who have no window into who I am or what my personality is beyond the text on this blog, so a lot of you don't know what a derpy little ball of chaos I can be. This was a chaos ball derp moment.

And honestly, aside from my posts on my own accounts, I’m confused as to what you’re calling “harassment.” Them calling this a harassment/hate campaign doesn’t make it one; it means they’re trying to stop anyone from looking at what I have to say.

I’ve actively, publicly pushed back against people using the g-word to describe her. I pushed back against the pedojacketing. I’ve corrected misinformation on other posts. I unpinned the “SFW Spaces” tweet as soon as I saw that they’d fixed their pre-roll.

As wild as it may sound from where you’re sitting, I’m actually a very reasonable person. I mean, do y'all still think this is fueled by breakup spite? Seriously?

Please hear me when I say this: my life as it stands now is better than it was when I was dating Poppy in literally every respect. Better environments, more empathetic and emotionally intelligent community leaders, better support, more intelligent conversations, no constant battles to defend something you like because Poppy wants to be act snobby and condescending about it, etc.

My darling partner and fellow "evil ex" @helavitrum and I strongly agree that we've both scored massive upgrades, and I can't tell you how wonderful it's been to reunite with other people looking for refuge after they see the rotten core of The Foundation for what it is. They’re people as good as PZ pretend to be and they’re looking for like-minded individuals, just like we are.

See, I recognize that the reason they're telling you that I'm just some crazy, obsessive, “psychotic” ex isn’t because they deliberately want to hide the truth; they see what I say as manipulation and lies because they literally do not recognize the harm they've done. What I'm doing doesn't make sense to them in any other way, so that's the translation they share with everyone else.

They have no idea what motivates me.

I mean, yes, I still get upset about the things they said and did, but not because it's still eating away at me or something; it's because they were incredibly shitty things that go against everything that PZ supposedly stand for, and they're continuing to perpetuate this harm against others who come to them for safety.

I get upset because I know so much more about the larger picture and how the behaviors you see in my account are only scratching the surface.

It’s okay, though. Genuinely, I mean this: I understand how you feel about me and I don’t begrudge you your feelings. I don’t think you’re a bad person for thinking these things. If I were in your shoes with just the information that you have available to you, I’d look at me like I was crazy, too.

But the thing is that you think you're protecting a "Lindsay Ellis.” You're not. You're protecting people more akin to iilluminaughtii. Or Lily Orchard.

If you genuinely care about the truth, you should read what I have to offer as far as evidence because, at the very least, I am providing evidence. Practically everything they've said about me (and others) has been their word with nothing else to back it up, uncontested by anyone else involved because their goal is not resolution or honesty; it's control.

And I don't just mean that you should read what I've already provided. I understand if that's not enough for you to understand what I'm doing.

I mean what's coming.

I can only present it, though. It's up to you to decide whether you want to form your own opinion or have it fed to you exclusively by the alleged abusers (and their inner circle).

Until then, I wish I could share more, but I can't because I don't want it spinning off into wild, out-of-control conjecture.

Unlike PZ, I respect the weight of what I've been entrusted with too much to mishandle it for the sake of saving face.

[okdeedee]

lay down your head

a very small din djarin x gn! reader sickfic . reader,,, works with mando? is hired by him? live-in employee. idk. the razor crest still exists. handwavey in terms of chronology.

__

an: because i have a shitty cold / fever / idk right now. so i daydream about how din djarin would take care of someone. me. us. whatever.

warnings: fluff. the mortifying ideal of being vulnerable with your colleagues/friends/crushes. no use of pronouns other than "you/your" and no y/n.

feat. trying to debunk the theory that being in the rain/being in somewhat cold weather will make you sick, one fic at a time. (hypothermia is real, catching a cold/the flu from being in the cold is not.)

wc: 1.3k words of 11pm feverish delirium.

__

It starts as a funny feeling behind your nose. As the day goes on, it spreads down to the back of your throat. Then there's the melancholy dawn of a dull headache and your joints start to hurt more than they usually do.

You're helping Mando carry a bounty back to the Crest at around three in the morning, Coruscant time, and suddenly it's ridiculously difficult.

The bounty is a fairly waiflike Twi'lek, so you're not sure why you're struggling. He could carry her on his own, sure, but you've watched him move enough that you can tell he's got back problems, so you try to help him carry heavy or awkwardly shaped things.

This Twi'lek in her hoop-skirted Opera-Concert-Goer finery definitely counts as the latter.

You watch him a lot.

The way he moves, how he interacts with his child, his prowess in combat. His proficiency with weapons gets you hot under the collar, sometimes.

But he's gruff and quite reserved, and you've taught yourself not to expect anything from this arrangement the two of you have. You haven't touched him before - not even to shake his hand.

When you trip over your own feet and the bounty goes lurching toward the floor, the Mandalorian pauses and glances at you with what you think might be annoyance.

But you can't see his face, obviously, and you sort of can't see full-stop in this dark alley, so it's anyone's guess.

By the time you get back to the Crest, your eyes burn with the effort of keeping them open. You don't want to be a liability, so you keep your head straight and you don't show any sign of weakness.

Once the bounty is frozen in carbonite, Mando climbs up the ladder, Grogu gurgling happily in his satchel. He doesn't seem to have noticed anything's really wrong with you, which is a relief. As soon as his boots disappear into the cockpit, you slump down to the floor.

Mando doesn't need a co-pilot - you're often down here during take-off anyway, tidying or putting your weapons away.

You value your alone time as much as he does, which is nice. He never pries when you need some time away from him and his little green kid.

You ache all over and you're shivering, but at least he can't see you. You're so tired that you fall asleep with your head resting against the weapon cupboard's door.

.

After he gets the Crest out of Coruscant's atmosphere and into hyperspace, Din lets Grogu play with a very small selection of the control panel that will not have drastic effects on the ship.

It takes a while, but the child's movements grow lethargic, and soon enough, he's asleep in Din's arms.

Din places him gently into his mobile cot so as to not wake him by taking him down the ladder, and realises he hasn't heard you move in over an hour.

Which is somewhat alarming - you take turns in the cot in the hull, and since Din can sleep in the pilot's chair, he figured you'd sleep there.

But he never heard the cot door depressurize and slam open, nor did he hear you pottering around like he usually does.

So he makes his way down the ladder, and he's bewildered by what he sees.

You're slumped on the ground, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle against the cupboard. You're breathing through your mouth a little raggedly, so fast you're almost panting, and there is a trickle of mucus coming out of your nose. Your hands twitch where they're draped across your torso, and your skin looks dull.

His heartrate skyrockets - he's a seasoned warrior and you're just his employee, so it probably shouldn't - and he moves over to you instantly.

Before he can think, he turns on the thermal view on his helmet, and sees that your head is hotter than the human head usually appears. So is your whole body.

He flicks it back to normal as he crouches next to you.

"Hey, wake up," he mutters.

He reaches out a hand to touch your shoulder, but he stops. He hasn't touched you before. Not intentionally. He wonders if you'd mind.

He thinks about it more and more each day.

Touching you.

Holding your hand, standing shoulder to shoulder, stroking your face.

Pressing your foreheads together in the way of his people, even if it's through his helmet.

But this is to make sure you're okay; it's different, so he reaches out and gently shakes you by one shoulder.

"Hey, you need to wake up," he murmurs.

You grunt, and your voice sounds like the rumble of footsteps over gravel.

"Can you open your eyes for me?"

Your eyelashes are a little crusted together, but you manage to open them. Your stare is vacant.

Din starts to panic.

"Did someone poison you? Did you eat something bad? Are you alright?"

You give him a sleepy chuckle, and your eyes close again, which is not helpful.

"Hey." He says with the sort of no-nonsense tone he uses with the child.

You blink. "What?"

"Did you get poisoned? Or spiked?"

"'M fine, Mando."

"You're not."

You huff, which sets you into a fit of coughing.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

You look at him with those bright, bloodshot eyes. You sniff and blink a few more times, blearily. It's silly, because he's really worried there's something wrong with you, but the open, sleepy expression on your face fills him with affection.

"Sweetheart, please."

You smile just barely. "Really, 'm fine. Just'a cold," you mumble.

"How would you have gotten a cold? The rain yesterday?" Din starts to spiral; he's supposed to protect you, whether he's ever expressed that to you or not, and now you're sick-

"Prob'ly that club a few days ago. Lots'a people. Confined space. No ventilation. Wonder why you didn't get sick."

"My helmet filters out most toxins and germs." He says.

You reach out and fiddle with the edge of one of the pouches strapped around his calf. "Lucky boy," you say, grinning dazedly.

You look incredibly unwell, but you're touching him, joking around with him. His heart pounds.

Then you groan and put your hand to your head, and he's whirled into action again.

.

The next half hour is hard to remember in full detail. You're so tired.

These are the glimpses you're conscious enough for:

Mando lifts you up, even with his bad back, and sits you up properly. He gets painkillers from the 'fresher, which you try to refuse, but he practically force-feeds them to you. He gives you his water canteen and tells you to take twenty sips of it.

He holds a cloth to your nose and tells you to blow your nose into his hand, which is mortifying, but you're too dazed to do otherwise.

He uses a cold, damp cloth to wipe your face and neck down, which makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

"Too cold," you grumble.

"Almost done, baby."

The heat that rushes through you at the sound of his gruff, modulated voice calling you 'baby' almost cures your chills for a second.

"Can I hold you?" the Mandalorian asks softly.

If you were awake, you'd freak out about this ridiculously attractive and emotionally distant man making an offer like that, but being held just sounds nice right now, so you whisper, "Yeah."

Next thing you know, the battle-hardened, ruthless Mandalorian bounty hunter is sitting behind you, one arm around your torso, the other stroking your forehead.

You're in between his legs, your back against his chest.

This is not how you thought your recovery from illness would go.

You find you don't have any reason to complain.

His armour's a little cold, and it shocks you at first, but once your feverish body heat warms it up, it's soothing. He smells good - beskar doesn't have that tangy scent so many metals have; it's cleaner, earthier. He smells warm, inviting, human.

You like this Mandalorian. Quite a lot, as Mandalorians go. And just as a person in general.

He chuckles; a deep, comforting rumble that you feel in your back ribcage before you hear it.

"What're you laughin' at?" you mumble, burrowing the side of your head into his chest

Another shorter, breathy chuckle. "What you just said."

Oops. "Didn't mean t' say that. Out loud, I mean."

"I'll forget I heard it."

"No you won't. You remember everything."

The chin of his helmet rests gently against the crown of your head, and he takes a deep breath in.

"Sleep, cyare. I've got you."

[princess-of-the-corner]

honestly anything TA says about Chloé and her background and motives is just like, a display of shallow understanding on how society works. People don't care if the customer service workers (from waiters to doctors and any job that serves a customer, which is pretty much all of them) do their job for money or because they genuinely like said job so long as they get good service like they were promised. Privilege is part of a whole ass System and you can't say just *this one specific person* has privilege when literally a majority of the cast has white privilege, all of them are at least middle class, and Adrien, who is one of the main characters, and Felix and Gabriel, two other big names in the show, are upper class white males. the last two are people who get off scott free from all their crimes which is probably what would happen in real life because of said privileges. And even then, the money all the rich kids supposedly have? Not even theirs. They're all broke dependent children with Adrien being the only one with a job and even then where's that money going? Does Kagami get fencing prize money? Is it hers or is it her mother's? Also anyone can be abused and have trauma and mental illnesses and whatnot, and full stop. Doesn't matter what you have or don't have.

Yeah no exactly like.

If we pretend for a hot second that having wealth cancels out any other trauma, then it should cancel out at least every traumatic experience for Gabriel, Felix, Adrien and Kagami. Not to mention you have to ask where the line is drawn because a lot of the Miracuclass is pretty well-off even though they're not quite in the 'Scrooge McDuck Money' category. (seriously we have discussed the class's financial situations before and of those whose families we've seen the only one who /might/ not be some kind of rich is Mylene.)

But these things don't exist in a vacuum.

You can have all the money in the world and still have trauma from various things! Since we were just talking about a certain AU, let's gesture over to Batman who is famously very rich but also traumatized as fuck!

Someone wealthy can have fucked up events happen to them. They can have parents that abuse them. They can have partners that abuse them. They could be born with some chemical imbalance that makes them depressed despite the fact that they 'have no reason to be depressed' because fuck man that's what depression does!

And while wealth can help, as it has access to resources to help fix your problems, it doesn't solve things.

But yes! Chloé being a child has another layer to it! Because her wealth is not her own and she /can't/ use her money to fix her problems! Even if Chloé did realize 'hey I need therapy', she'd need to get her parents' permission and have them pay for it.

At the same time, she has no way to escape her situation. She is underage and needs a legal guardian of some sort. Her parents have enough money that she can't report them for child abuse and expect to be removed from their custody. She has no access to income of her own and/or skills to get income where she could petition to be emancipated from them.

And even when she /does/ become an adult, there's the question of what will happen. Because maybe they cut her off and leave her to flounder with no skills as soon as she turns 18. On the other hand, they could keep controlling her like a child because she has no skills thanks to their shitty upbringing and can't survive without them, so it's a game of 'you'll get money as long as you do exactly what I want'.

This stuff does similarly apply to Adrien, Felix and Kagami as well. They seem a bit more ready to function in the world, but even so they're still children at the whims of their parents and can only escape through their parents fucking dying.

[reapkusho]

HOY! Here are my info for the BLLK matchup exchange. Preference: I prefer to be paired with a male character who's part of the Neo Egoist League. Personality: funny, laid back, smart, sometimes bossy and I can be sassy. I loooooove to tease people -- even those I've just met, to test anothera limits (I even sometimes don't know when to stop so others need to remind me to be gentle lol), joking around and having fun while doing various activities. I love traveling and eating at the restaurant, going to the cinema and discovering new cultures and places. I don't like boring, disobedient and inefficient people and when things don't go my way. I also value my independence as well and can be on my own without any problem. Physically: east asian, black short hair (two blocks haircut), I wear sport and practical clothes like cargo pants, sneakers and unicolor t-shirts. Mostly black and white. I also have the same haircut as Nicolas Brown in Gangsta and more of the slim build side. Lately, I discovered banana bags and I love these. Someone has also told me I look like a R&B singer. Love Languages: Receiving: physical contact. Giving: words of affirmation. I start to work on your matchup very soon :) If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. Thanks!

Oughh first time doing one of these exchanges :) sorry it took a bit long!!

So, I was thinking —

KARASU TABITO.

♡ stop I thought he was literally the only correct answer.

♤ because you two're so ... similar!

♧ anywayyy — I was thinking some blunt introduction from him. Giving him some sassy and blunt remark back, let THAT lead to a long friendly banter — congrats, you've ready made it to his people-who-aren't-mediocre list :)

♡ and ough he's glad you can talk with him like this — he messes with you a lot. It miiight seem like you two are insulting each other, but he's being affectionate. (You know, he could talk with you all day. You're funny, AND smart—oh come on, of course he'd want to talk with you!)

♡ tease him all you want <3 (this man will not back down in the slightest.)

♡ I bet he'd love spending time with you traveling or being outside and all that. Sure you could go to that restaurant. Sure you could go to the mall. Sure you could take the plane to France. — what I'm trying to say is that he'd be here for all that going out stuff (as long as it's not next to bodies of water lol).

♧ Oh, and sure he'd love to learn new cultures in new places with you <3 (maybe that's his favorite part of traveling.)

♡ ^ so because of all that I think most of your dates will be out doing various fun things that pique both of your interests. It's never boring out there with him.

♡ came to me randomly but he would despise canceled flights or postponed activities etc. He is ready to get two shitty layovers and 0 sleep if it meant plans would stay the same.

♡ but, hey — maybe sometimes he'll just pull up a laptop and watch soccer games with you. With all the notes and stuff. Make you analyze the game with him. (And not be afraid to call you out on certain things and you doing the same thing... maybe remind each other to take it easy on each other?)

♡ would absolutely nag your head off about subjects he likes. Is more than ready to study with you — actually it was like he was expecting it. Or wanted to.

♧ He likes that you're independent, he doesn't want you constantly clinging to him and him to you. My guy doesn't want to feel suffocated (and he bets you don't want to either. Totally gets it and might even do the same thing).

♡ I don't think he's touchy, per se — he's casual with a lot of his affections. But he does give them away easily.

♡ ahemrgh, he's kind of guy to swing your joined hands back and forth while walking. The type of guy to wrap his arm around your shoulder to bring you a tad closer. Ahem.

... aaand I don't know what else to put. Here ya go bestie. Lowkey... I fell asleep in between and had a 2 hour nap (i shouldn't havs done this so late). But this was really fun, dude. I can't believe I haven't done anything like this sooner. Anyway! (Do i need to tag you still?? Also if i did this wrong i expected that at least a little lol) <3

[theotherhalfoftheshell]

Here's some angst I found in my WIP pile, no triggers but hurt/no comfort

Post-war Dabi and Hawks are stuck together for some reason.

"Fuck Touya just stop, stop. I'm so fucking tired of the screaming and the fighting. We're getting nowhere and it's just exhausting," Hawks pleads, "We're here and we're not gonna get out of here any  time soon so how about we just pretend that you still love me so we can both get through this shitty fucking night."

"Pretend I still love you?," Touya snarled, "When did I fucking stop!? You're the one that broke it off with me."

"I didn't want this fucking life but what am I suppose to do?," Hawks asks with tears in his voice," I don't have passion towards anything and people expect me to be a hero."

"No one expects shit from you, not even me. All I wanted was an honest fucking relationship and you kept getting in your own way. So let's pretend you actually loved me too," Touya throws back at him, "Do you think it was easy seeing how you faked your entire personality with everyone you met? Trying to figure out if you were lying to them or me? I knew from the very fucking being that I would never be the most important thing in your life , I'd never be as important to you as you are to me but I still couldn't convince myself to stop."

Tears stream down his face as he chokes out the next part, "And now you call me up anytime you're lonely and drag me right back down to the hopeless piece of shit that will never have the self respect to stop loving you."

"I don't call you because I'm lonely I call you because I'm not strong enough to pretend that you aren't my everything anymore, I'm not strong enough to lie to myself that what we had was just a fling and you won't be the only person consuming my heart till I die, " Hawks admits wrapping his arms around himself, "I'm sorry that I made it seem like you weren't important because I'd let the entire fucking world burn if it meant I could have you and that scares the shit out of me. please don't ever fucking doubt that you will always be the most important thing in my life."

[pommunist]

Personally I think some asks here need to chill out a bit. Just a smidge.

All we know is there's eventually going to be a second iteration of the project. Hopefully one with all that should/needs to be fixed, fully and thoroughly fixed. There's nothing wrong with them doing something again. We know nothing about what "2" is gonna be.

Some of these asks are bad faithing or just having a bad attitude way too soon and need to stop expecting the worst rather than hoping for the best. Anyone upset about "2" right now is working themselves up for nothing. We have a number, that's it. Not a premise, not a timeline, nothing. They need to calm down. There's no sense in being angry over hypotheticals.

Especially when, despite what seemed like good progress with some eggs returning, ccs explicitly stating they wouldn't be playing on the server again if things weren't fixed, etc, the server still ended anyway. In my eyes, that's a sign they're acknowledging they can't fully correct what needs to be mended and redeemed without pulling the plug first. As far as we know, the only bad thing about the new studio so far is how shitty some admin spoke to Cherry (I don't mean to sound blasé there, to clarify. I was angry for her and I care about her treatment deeply). This to me is suggesting they're shutting down to REALLY scrub the studio clean and restart anew. The new staff were personally vetted this time and I feel like people forget that a lot. Or choose to bad faith about it instead, which just helps no one.

Some asks here need to think more positively. Or just admit they need to step away from qsmp entirely and not engage with any future content. I know that sounds a bit easier said than done, but I mean it. Don't participate in something if all it does is piss you off or hurt you. :/

Personally I think a good sign that things are truly being improved would be that people wouldn’t have to rely on interpreting possible signs to imagine that maybe if you squint things are changing

Also a lot of people who are critical also happen to be people who deeply loved the qsmp and are sad or angered to see it end the way it did, but are also angered at the exploitation that went on and has not, to this day, been properly addressed or fixed.

« Just » the Cherry thing is not a one time oopsie, it showed that despite the team having been allegedly restructured, they still repeated the same pattern of actions.

Obviously with QSMP having announced that there would be a follow up, people are being doubtful that it will happen without the same problems that plagued it the first time.

Issues don’t disappear because you look away from them 🤷‍♀️

[credince--writes]

Whispers

Whispers can be heard, calling from the sand.

AO3

Cots sucked.

They really, truly blew.

Blew hard.

She groaned, sitting up on the shitty little cot she'd made her resting place for the last few days. There were whispers she had caught hold of, like butterflies drifting past in stagnant air. Whispers of Price and Gaz showing up soon.

Soon.

She was being left in the dark.

She knew it.

She hated it.

And every butterfly that floated past she'd catch and rip its wings off.

A tribute to her truly, sour mood.

But it had seemed that she wasn't the only one in a sour mood. While she'd be able to corner Soap a few times, at least try to make some conversation as she felt like she was losing her mind in isolation.

Almost as if she was being put in timeout.

She didn't remember.

And that was her fault.

Now all of a sudden they wouldn't talk to her.

Were they mad at her?

Did they not want her anymore?

She was a part of the team.

At least she thought she was a part of the team.

Maybe it didn't mean anything.

She felt useless, sitting here doing nothing.

She wanted to help,

to be useful.

She had caught Rudy in the hallway one day, stopping politely to greet each other she offered her assistance.

"I'm losing my mind here, dude." She'd said. "Your techs need any help?"

"Of course... Let me ask first, then I'll go get you."

What she didn't expect was a very, very poorly managed tech department with a senile old man sitting in front of a computer that looked like it had been pulled out of the nineties.

"This... Is the tech department?" She asked, glancing over to Rudy.

"...Si..."

"You're shitting me, right?"

"No." He replied voice raised slightly.

"This isn't a tech dep, and if this is what you guys are running I'm surprised you aren't all dead." She hisses out. Taking a step closer to him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just following-"

"Orders. Right." She seethed. "So, not tech-dep-tech-dep, what activities are done here?"

The old man lifted his head, lifting a hand with a pack of cards. "Chinchón!" He stood, moving from his chair in front of the computer to a table tucked in behind a shelf.

Her head snapped over, looking at him. "What?"

"You'll get along great- that's Momia, call him Mom. Bye now!" Rudy side stepped and quickly exited the door leaving her alone with the lingering smell of old cigarette smoke, and a wrinkled old man with a pack of cards.

She hesitantly stepped forward, more into the room to glance over a shelf to see him sitting at a table with the pack of cards in hand, tapping an empty carton of cigarettes against the damaged fold-out table. "....Hello."

"Hello." He replied back. His voice was gravelly, aged. It reminded her slightly of Price's. It carried a weight, one that was only acquired with experiences.

Haunting ones.

"You speak English?" She hesitantly asked.

"Fucking hope so." He bites back.

She was taken aback slightly, raising a brow. "Why do they call you Mom?"

"Supposed to be momia, call me Mom."

"What's that mean?"

"Mummy. Cause been here since you were in diapers." He replied, opening the package of cards and placing them on the table.

"I don't understand why I'm being placed with a fucking babysitter." Jitters hisses out, standing up and pushing her chair back. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself and I won't be disregarded to-"

"Sit the fuck down." The old man grumbles out.

She sits back down quietly. "Sorry, Sir." She mumbles, awkwardly folding her hands in her lap.

"You know Chinchón?" He asks.

"No."

"Rummy?"

"...No."

"Gin?"

"You're just making these up, aren't you."

The old man sighs, rolling his shoulders back and letting out a deep exhale.

....

She groaned, leaning back into her chair after losing yet another card game to the man next to her.

"At this point why don't we play something like speed?" She asked.

"No."

"Why, you afraid you're gonna lose?"

"No."

She groaned again, looking around the room. "Why are you in here anyways?"

"It is my room." He replied simply.

"Like, you live in here?" She asked.

"No."

"What do you even do on that computer?"

"Solitare."

"You play it a lot?"

"Si."

She looked over at the computer and the well-worn mouse on the mouse pad next to it. There was a full ash tray sitting a few feet off of the thick computer.

"You play cards a lot?" She asked, keeping her eyes on the old computer.

"No, not many to play with." He replied, shuffling the deck and getting ready for another agonizing round of him wiping the floor.

"So you just play Solitare all day?"

"Si."

"Huh." She turned back around, facing him at the table and watching as he dealt out the cards again.

"You ever get bored of it?"

"Me? No." He replies. "Now play."

"If you just play cards all day and smoke why don't you just go home?" She asked.

"The Los Vaqueros is my home, my child." He states.

"You Rudy's Daddy or something?"

He huffs a light laugh at that. "No... no.... But I remember when he was just a boy. Skittish little mocoso."

"So you've been here a long time."

"Yes."

She sighed. Conversation with the man was impossible, all he would do was shuffle the cards, ash his cig, light a new one, and maybe every once and a while stand to leave to take a piss.

She was going insane.

The room was dingy, and stained with cigarette smoke and it didn't help the chairs squeaked in a horribly irritating way.

Any time she stood she'd been chastised.

She was being held hostage by an old bastard who smoked like a chimney and played cards all day.

It'd be fun, in theory, but she wanted to be anywhere.

Anywhere but in that room.

Feeling useless.

Doing nothing.

It was aggravating, they were occupying her.

Placing her with a babysitter.

What was really happening?

Mom sure took advantage of bossing her around, to bring him his lunch, eat with her, go fetch him a new pack of cigs.

And it went on like that for a few more days.

She'd like to think they'd made progress, she started to understand the card games, play along, maybe even win once or twice.

He'd start telling her long, raspy, and drawn-out stories of the good ol' days.

The days when justice wasn't a foreign concept.

'A bullet can solve any problem' the old man had told her.

To a degree, she agreed with that statement.

His eyes would dance when he spoke of old stories, stories of when he was young.

Stories of when he was strong.

He was crazy, she'd deduced.

Maybe senile.

Half the things he'd tell her didn't seem feasible to survive, but she'd let the old man live through his stories. Watching the life glisten in his eyes as he relived the good memories of his past.

Relive his youth.

"We didn't have these cartel problems when we just strung them up in the street." He said, puffing off of his cigarette and placing a card down.

"Think that's bad for tourism." She replied bluntly.

He laughed, that dry, raspy, old laugh.

They continued to play, the long dreadful games to her always losing and him finishing with a crooked smile with missing teeth.

"Back in my day, we never had those phones. Just cards."

"Bet you didn't have a girlfriend either." She bit back.

"I had many of women." He replied.

"Yea, Mom, the slayer of women."

"Hah..." He laughed. Sitting up in his chair and flexing his shoulders. It was almost like a routine. Trying to correct his poor posture that had been engrained over the years. "I wasn't always Mom."

"Hard to see you as anything other than a chimney with a card problem."

"I remember when the spirits still roamed the desert."

She sighed silently, looking up at him.

"Yea? Dance with the cactus too?"

He laughed lightly. "I thought you'd understand! Have you not seen the demons dancing in the sky?"

She paused, looking at him.

The smoke danced off of his cigarette and up into the air, dissipating into the room's stuffy atmosphere and tar clinging to the walls.

"The desert still lives, at night." He adds. "But only if it deems you worthy."

"Worthy of what, exactly?" She asked.

"A warrior's death." He explained simply, collecting the cards and starting to shuffle them again.

"Why would I need a warrior's death?" She asked, looking at him hesitantly.

"Not need, but worthy. Pure of heart. Intention." He clarifies. "We can all see the demons. They crawl out of the dark, but the life... No, that's only there for the good."

"Have you seen the life of the desert?" She asked.

"Not for a long, long time. Before I became what I am today. When I was a young boy, I would watch the cactus dance on the sand."

"Before you were the momia?"

He laughed, smoke puffing from his lungs as he exhaled as chuckled. "No. When I was a warrior."

"Then who were you?"

"Can you not tell?" He asks.

She gives him a deadpan look.

He lifts his sleeve, revealing a sleeve of old, ragged tattoos.

But one stood out.

One deep into his flesh.

But it wasn't a tattoo.

It was a scar.

A brand.

It was the insignia of something- she honestly couldn't tell.

"El Gran Vaquero!" He chuckles out.

She stays silent, watching his movements.

"Lazo de la muerte, I'd hang them from the streets!" He wheezed out.

She stared.

El Gran Vaquero.

He was the first.

The first of the wild cowboys.

The Los Vaqueros.

The patriarch.

Of course, he couldn't leave. He'd be hunted like a trophy.

The old, sad card-playing man. Isolated into grungy solitude, smoke smothering air.

Lazo de la muerte.

"Can you not tell?" He asks.

She stares at him, and it as if his flesh melts from the bone. Death radiated off of his pores.

The hands that carefully shuffled the cards gripped onto a rough rope, a lasso. Wrapped around the neck of a criminal as they were dragged through the street.

He was no Mom.

He was a God Damn harbinger of death.

Staged atop a horse.

Cursed to never see the life of the desert again.

"Go find lunch, will you?" He broke her train of thought. Killing the stiff mood of the room, effectively turning back to his cards.

She groaned internally, nodding and standing to leave the room.

Following out of the hallways onto her familiar route to go to the mess, pick up grub for the old bastard and herself, follow back and continue on with the prison sentence of sitting with him, inhaling the secondhand smoke and playing cards until the tips of her fingers bled.

To get there, she'd have to route through the majority of the base, which was a pain in the ass but it had given her a much-appreciated break from the stuffiness of the room.

She'd pop her head out, look around the garage. Cut through there as a shortcut and sometimes walk outside and lean against the wall to look at the clouds and the bright sky they tried to devour.

She walked through, opening the door onto the asphalt and looking out onto the tarmac to see the familiar tall figure of Ghost standing next to a Heli.

One that was prepping to leave.

She stared in disbelief.

Were they... leaving her?

Were they not going to say goodbye?

Ghost stood, talking to who she could only assume to be Rudy from that distance. It was much easier to tell who Ghost was- the tall dark looming figure with the white of his mask making him indistinguishable.

Ghost turned, in her direction.

Like he was staring at her.

She stared back.

His body was completely facing her.

She could feel the burning of her flesh, the singing of her hair under his gaze.

They stayed like that for a moment.

Staring.

The sound of the chopper's blades beating against the air fills the silence.

And he turned, climbing into the Helicopter.

And she stared, watching as it lifted off of the ground and ascended.

Leaving.

Without a word.

Nothing.

"I am not your babysitter." He said plainly.

"Never said you were." She shot back.

"Bit defensive are we?" He questions, moving across the room to put away a weight he had been using earlier.

She grumbled a little, crossing her arms. "I didn't mean to. I just am starting to dislike being regarded as a baby."

He turned, looking at her. "Then do something about it."

She stared at where the helicopter once was.

"No. I'm not being cocky. You, yourself told me to do something about it and this is me doing something about it." She throws her hands up in the air. "You drag me out to bumfuck, act like I'm your Soap surrogate but when we get back you act like none of it happened." She seethes out.

"You were a liability." Ghost says again, the words leaving his mouth drawled out slowly.

"Yea?" Jitters voice cracks a little bit.

"This isn't some fun game you just get to run around with now." Ghost started.

"This isn't a fucking game, and I earned my spot here. I've earned it multiple times and I've proven that-."

"You haven't proved anything. You are not a soldier. You are a fake. We are not your community service project or your parole officers. I don't need your falsified pity, or courage for that matter." He spits.

She stared.

They didn't want her anymore.

"You. Are a scared, weak little girl."

Do you ever miss it?" She asks.

He looks at her and nods a bit before flicking the ash off of the end of his cigarette.

"Sometimes." He finally responds.

"Would you ever go back to it?"

"There's nothing left to go back to." He says.

Home.

"I guess that's something we have in common." She mumbles.

But now?

There really wasn't anything to go back to.

[theshittymarimo]

It's the shame, it's the pride

Fandom: One Piece Characters: Roronoa Zoro, Black leg Sanji, Monkey D. Luffy Words: 3,477 Ao3 Link Summary: "You would die for me, wouldn’t you?"

Luffy asked Zoro and Sanji.

Sanji gaped but nodded.

Zoro narrowed his eyes because he knew Luffy wouldn’t ask that of him. Notes: I listened to "In this shirt" by The Irrepressibles on repeat while writing a lot of this. I recommend listening to it while reading! The title is taken from the lyrics of the song.

The straw hats had arrived at a mysterious, unknown island, a place none of them had heard of before. Not even Robin. It seemed uninhabited, but it was hard to know as it was shrouded in a thick fog that obscured visibility across the entire island. It was eerily quiet and some people in the crew immediately volunteered to remain aboard the ship, while someone else (you could probably guess who) immediately yelled adventure and jumped off the ship before the crew had made any kind of plan.

Nami groaned and yelled after their captain, followed by shouts after Zoro when he went after Luffy.

"Sanji!"

"Yes, Nami-san?" Sanji responded promptly, eager to be of service for her.

"That moron is going to get lost!" Nami said clearly annoyed. "Go after Zoro and pick up Luffy before he causes too much trouble!"

"On my way!" Sanji told her happily before turning to the dense forest that was barely visible in the fog. "Marimo! This fog looks like your sense of direction, you've got no chance in this!"

"Huh?!" Zoro's angry response echoed from a little further within the woods.

But despite that the swordsman could've only been a couple of meters in front of Sanji as they heard each other clearly only seconds ago, as soon as Sanji got into the forest it got quiet.

Sanji stopped after a moment of running, expecting to have caught up with Zoro by now, but instead found himself surrounded by the dense fog and an eerie silence. Not even any sounds of wildlife, was this island truly empty of all life? A chilly feeling suddenly ran down his spine.

He spun around, he had the sudden feeling that someone, or something, was watching him. But there was nothing, just the trees and the fog.

"Hey, who's out there?" Sanji called out tensing up preparing for a fight as he looked around with his senses on high alert.

No response, which made sense as it truly felt like nothing was there except for him. The silence was suffocating, but Sanji knew Zoro and Luffy were out there somewhere.

"Sanji.." Luffy's voice suddenly spoke up from behind him.

Sanji almost shouted in surprise but quickly turned around. He thought he had just looked over the place but now Luffy was standing there.

"Luffy", Sanji sighed in relief. "Good, this island is creepy. Why don't we just find the marimo and then go back to the ship? There's nothing here."

Luffy stood silently and looked back at him with his head tilted, a little smile playing on his lips. Sanji blinked, there was something strange... But no, he wore the same new attire he had donned that morning, courtesy of Brook, along with his straw hat. The same big dark eyes and the same scars. Sanji got the same reassuring feeling he used to from being around his captain. Since the whole cake island that feeling had only grown stronger, and it was the same feeling now. Like anything was possible, like Luffy only needed to ask, and the crew, they, Sanji, would do anything for him.

"Sanji, I'm your captain, right?" Luffy inquired with a little cheeky grin, the kind that promised mischief, the kind that made Sanji ask what Luffy had stolen from the refrigerator this time. It was very familiar and made Sanji sigh.

"Of course", Sanji answered exasperatedly as he dug in a pocket to get his cigarettes.

"If I asked you to do something, would you do it?" Luffy walked closer, hands behind his back, still with the same mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Shitty captain, what do you want?" Sanji frowned, wondering what kind of shit Luffy was up to now. His gaze drifted to the thickening fog, that wasn't good, but when he looked back to Luffy, he couldn't help but feel better as a sense of reassurance washed over him. He felt safe with his captain. Whatever awaited them on the island could wait; they weren't in a hurry, after all.

"Sanji..." Luffy's dark eyes were enthralling, like in the middle of a big fight when he knew that he was going to win. It always brought a reassuring surge of strength and relief, as if Luffy’s win was a given simply because he said so.

“You left me”, Luffy’s grin suddenly vanished. The comforting aura around them disappeared, like all the air was sucked in. He couldn't breathe.

“W-what?” Sanji stuttered, feeling his heart falter in his chest as well.

“Surely you remember it?” Luffy tilted his head looking like he wondered if Sanji was stupid. “You left the crew.”

A trapdoor to a dark, heavy abyss slammed open within Sanji, and he plummeted into its depths. His cigarettes all forgotten, he could only gape as the dark familiar eyes were burrowing deep into his soul.

“But that’s all right”, Luffy’s smile suddenly returned. “You just have to do something for me.”

Sanji’s knees grew weak and he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. The air was gone from his lungs, replaced with something that felt like tar in his throat.

“You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” Luffy asked, suddenly so close, his usual confident large grin in place.

Sanji found himself nod before he could even think about it. Confusion clouding his thoughts, but this was Luffy; he would do anything for his captain, for his forgiveness.

“You would die for me, wouldn’t you?”

Sanji blinked. What did he just say?

“Huh?” he croaked weakly.

“Wouldn’t you die for me?” Luffy repeated with his innocent eyes wide and a faint frown, like Sanji was disappointing him.

Sanji gaped but slowly nodded, his world blurred into a foggy haze after that.

---

Zoro had finally found Luffy in the forest, engrossed in watching a bug that was crawling along a fallen tree. Everything appeared normal; Luffy greeted him with a smile and shouted his name happily, and Zoro felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had felt uneasy after hearing Sanji shout after him and then nothing else, but despite that he kept going after Luffy. But now when he had found Luffy he was prepared to go back and make sure that the cook was alright, just in case. An uneasy feeling itched in the back of his mind.

Zoro looked around while Luffy chattered in the background about the bugs he had seen, how great this adventure was and how great the crew was. Zoro couldn’t shake off the odd sensation lingering in the air but he couldn’t see anything.

"You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?"

Zoro blinked, caught off guard by Luffy’s question.

"What?" Zoro frowned, turning to face Luffy again.

Luffy looked relaxed, his hands resting behind his head, like he hadn't asked anything strange. Just slightly curious.

"Would you do anything for me?" Luffy asked again, looking like he thought Zoro was a little stupid for not understanding him the first time.

The thing was, it was classic Luffy. Everything about him screamed Luffy at Zoro.

“I-… Of course”, Zoro scowled. They all knew that, Luffy included; it was just that no one usually bothered to mention it. “You know that.”

Luffy sniggered his usual laugh, and the corner of Zoro’s lips twitched as if to join in as well. But he didn’t really feel like it, the strange feeling persisted, unsettling him.

“Good”, Luffy grinned, turning around, hands still leisurely behind his head. “Follow me!”

“Luffy!” Zoro huffed in annoyance as he followed his captain who seemed relaxed.

Something was wrong. The nagging feeling in the back of his head was screaming at him, but he couldn’t understand what it was saying.

“Where are we going?” Zoro asked as he looked around in search for any hint of what made his instincts go haywire.

“I have to show you something!” Luffy told him eagerly, pointing off into the distance.

Zoro groaned but followed him, he was used to Luffy’s impulsive detours by now.

“Zoro”, Luffy started after a moment of silence as they went deeper into the forest. “Zoro is a good first mate, you know that?”

“Huh?” Zoro startled and stared at the back head of Luffy in confusion. He felt his cheeks flush and he averted his gaze in embarrassment as he tsked.

“You always look after me”, Luffy continued with laughter in his voice, washing over Zoro, he couldn’t help but look at him again. “I don’t even have to say anything, you always know what I need.”

What is this? Zoro wondered, feeling awkward, they had never spoken like this before.

“You would do anything for me”, Luffy continued.

“I already said yes”, Zoro told him irritated.

“You would die for me, wouldn’t you?” Luffy asked.

Zoro stopped. Everything in front of him screamed Luffy at him, but yet…

Zoro’s hand instinctively reached for the hilts of his blades. Suddenly the screaming feeling in the back of his head sharpened; he knew where it came from. It came from his blades, and they were screaming at him that something was wrong. His new blade Enma sent stinging ripples of pain across his arm that made him gasp and grip the hilt tightly as he looked down at it in surprise.

“Zoro?” Luffy asked as he turned around to him.

Zoro looked up again. And it was like the pain was clearing something in front of him.

“You would die for me, wouldn’t you?” Luffy repeated with a serious look on his face, the one he wore when he meant what he was saying. It was important, it was captain’s orders. And yet…

Zoro slowly drew a blade, pointing it at his captain.

"Luffy already knows that", Zoro spoke slowly, his frown deepening as he kept a vigilant eye on him. "He doesn't like it and wouldn't mention it, but he knows."

Luffy suddenly grinned and laughed in his usual manner, like it didn’t matter. For a fleeting moment, Zoro wavered; it all looked and sounded just like him.

But then, the figure that looked like Luffy began to fade, its form becoming transparent as the thick fog around them slowly lifted.

"Lucky", not-Luffy grinned, with a gleam in his eyes that Zoro didn't like. It looked predatory. But he didn't have time to ask anything as in the next moment the thing that had disguised itself as Luffy was gone.

"Shit", Zoro hissed lowly, drawing a second blade and looked around. The uneasy feeling suddenly grew sevenfold, urging him to hurry. The fog looked more natural and he could see further into the woods, but he still didn't know what way to go.

"Shit", Zoro swore again. He dashed forward, only to quickly stop, with an annoyed growl at himself he pivoted on his heels and ran in the opposite direction.

Soon, a sight caught his eye amidst the trees: two figures walking in tandem. Zoro put in a burst of speed and quickly saw who they were. At first, he was relieved, it was Luffy and Sanji.

However, this Luffy didn't say anything when they both noticed him and stopped. He looked unusually serious and when Zoro glanced at the cook, he noticed a blank look in his eyes, unsettling him even further.

"Where are you going?" Zoro asked carefully, his blades at the ready, preparing himself for whatever might come next.

Luffy grinned in response, and Zoro felt himself relax for a moment, expecting him to answer that they were looking for something to catch for a meal.

"Kill Zoro, Sanji", Luffy said, still with a grin.

Zoro blinked, he barely had time to think. The look on Luffy's face was so different from the words that was spoken that he couldn't fully comprehend it at first.

But when a leg of steel enveloped in burning blue hell flames descended upon him Zoro knew he had to catch up quickly. He grunted when he barely managed to raise his two blades in time to stop the attack from hitting him.

Usually in their fights they worked up to their stronger moves, allowing each other time to warm up, even in their angriest clashes. But this was different; this was an all-out assault from the start.

"Are you serious, shit-cook?!" Zoro gritted out furious with him.

But when he looked at Sanji's face, he almost blanched. The cook always wore his feelings on his sleeve, Zoro could usually guess what he was feeling at the moment from just a look at him. But this Sanji's face was blank, his eyes muddled like he didn’t see what was in front of him, wearing just a slight frown like this was something he had to do.

Zoro knew this was Sanji; no one could fake his attacks this well. Which meant that no matter how much Zoro wanted to, it would create a bigger mess than worth it to kill him like this, and yet he couldn't afford to hold back either. So annoying, Zoro thought as he backed a couple of steps as Sanji prepared for another attack.

As their clash intensified, the surrounding landscape bore the brunt of their attacks, trees crashing under the force of their attacks, the sky aglow with fire. For a moment Zoro wondered if their crewmates saw the fires and wondered what was going on. But he didn't have much time to think as Sanji didn't stop attacking, not even to catch his breath even when Zoro could hear him wheeze in the struggle to be able to take in enough air for his body. But he still wore that blank look in his eyes.

Amidst the chaos, he recalled Sanji’s word in Wano: 'But after the battle, if I am not sane ... you must kill me.' Was it something like this that Sanji had feared?

Zoro glanced at the fake-Luffy and saw that he was still standing there with his arms crossed, looking intrigued like real Luffy did when he watched an interesting fight. In a fit of frustration, Zoro turned around and decided to attack him, it was obvious he had done something to the cook like the other fake-Luffy had done to him. So maybe it would stop Sanji if Zoro attacked the source.

But when he slashed at fake-Luffy he saw movement in the corner of his eye. His eye widened when he realized that Sanji had moved, not to attack Zoro with his back turned at him, but to stand in front of fake-Luffy. He didn't even defend himself, just stood there with his arms outstretched, taking the attack right at his chest.

Zoro gaped, almost yelled, when he saw Sanji crumble, staggering by the force in the attack. Zoro barely noticed the triumphant look on the fake-Luffy's face, his eyes on the cook who instead of falling, he slowly straightened himself with his body looking bended in where Zoro had hit him, his expression unchanged.

"What does it take for you to die?" Fake-Luffy asked in surprise, and for the first time Zoro saw some frustration in his face.

Before Zoro could think of what that implied, a figure, with a furious shout, suddenly collided with fake-Luffy with such a force that both flew several meters away. Both Zoro and Sanji looked over in surprise.

It was Luffy. The real Luffy, Zoro was sure. The anger in his face was unmistakable.

"Lu-.. Luffy?" Sanji's confused voice made Zoro look over at him in surprise. It was the first word he had spoken since Zoro had found them. Sanji was frowning with a muddled look in his eyes as he watched their Luffy attack the fake-Luffy.

The fight didn't last long. The fake-Luffy disappeared like he had done the first time to Zoro. The winning Luffy, their Luffy, didn't look triumphant, instead he looked up at them with a frown.

Zoro opened his mouth to say something but stopped when Luffy walked up to Sanji who still looked confused. Luffy was frowning but Zoro could see the concerned look in his eyes. Gently Luffy put his hand on Sanji's cheek when he stopped in front of him.

"Sanji?" Luffy asked, like to check that he was still there.

“… Captain”, Sanji responded after a moment and blinked. The muddled look in his eyes slowly disappeared as his gaze swept over Luffy’s face and he looked around in confusion. When his eyes fell upon Zoro he frowned before his eyes cleared up and widened in shock. He quickly turned to Luffy again with a shocked look upon his face and then spun to the direction they had been heading.

“He-… It was leading me to a cliff”, Sanji breathed, his words heavy with disbelief as he stared into the distance.

Zoro tensed up with the realization, recalling the ominous question posed by the fake-Luffy.

“You would die for me, wouldn’t you?”

All of a sudden Zoro wished he would’ve been able to do more to the fake-Luffy.

Luffy’s frown mirrored Zoro’s thoughts.

“Sanji”, Luffy’s voice rang out with the authority of a captain that made everyone in the crew snap to attention, as did Sanji who immediately looked to him. “I want you to live.”

A shiver ran down Zoro’s spine. But this time it wasn’t unfamiliar; he knew this feeling very well. Some called it the conqueror’s haki, but Zoro knew this as his captain’s will.

“You understand, Sanji?” Luffy asked again, his gaze piercing.

“Y-yes”, Sanji responded with a slight shiver as he looked down from the unwavering look in Luffy’s eyes.

“… Good!” Luffy suddenly grinned wide, looking like he was already forgetting the whole thing. “I’m hungry, let’s go back to the Sunny!”

Zoro looked after Luffy as he kept talking about what he wanted for lunch. Clearly Luffy had known what the not-Luffy had asked of Zoro, and Sanji, which probably meant that he had faced something similar as well. Probably not himself, and for a moment Zoro wondered what that had been to Luffy. But for now, Luffy was here, and that was all that mattered to Zoro. No need to delve further.

Turning his attention to the cook, Zoro noticed him discreetly wiping his cheeks before following their captain. That swirly-brow needed to stop trying to die Zoro thought and sneered.

“What?” Sanji hissed at the look on Zoro’s face.

“Just your stupid face”, Zoro retorted nonchalantly, as he fell into step behind Luffy.

“What the hell, marimo?!” Sanji shouted back at him.

Back on the ship their crewmates had clearly been worried about them. Nami’s furious shouts filled the air, while Chopper anxiously looked over them for any signs of injuries. Luffy didn’t say anything, and Sanji avoided their gazes as he retreated to the kitchen, muttering about making lunch. When Nami asked Luffy what had happened on the island Luffy told them to not worry before hurrying after Sanji. He shouted happily about food, but Zoro knew that there were other reasons as to why he wanted to be close to the cook for a while longer.

Which left Zoro to answer the concerned crewmates. What a hassle, Zoro sighed. But he told them a very brief account of what happened to him, opting to not mention too much of what he had seen regarding the cook either.

“A-a ghost?!” Usopp’s horrified shriek pierced the air.

“Hm”, Robin hummed looking interested and like she was searching for something in her mind.

“Have you heard of something like that before Robin?” Nami asked worriedly.

“I don’t recall much, but yes”, Robin began which Zoro translated to what she didn’t remember wasn’t particularly noteworthy. “There’s a myth about an onryō, a vengeful spirit, haunting an entire island. It is said that the spirit is able to see into the souls of those they encounter and influence them, driving them to their own demise willingly.”

“Y-you mean…?” Usopp’s complexion paled further.

“According to the myth, yes, it has the ability to compel people to take their own lives.”

“It’s real?!” Chopper cried looking terrified out of his mind.

“I have yet to see it personally”, Robin smiled serenely at him and Usopp groaned that it wasn’t reassuring at all.

“Thank goodness you all returned unharmed!” Nami said glancing at Zoro with an angry look that he knew meant that she was worried. “We are leaving, immediately!”

She looked like she was expecting protests but Zoro merely nodded and shrugged. He was fairly certain that Luffy wouldn’t mind this time.

“Is everything alright, Zoro?” Brook’s discreet inquiry came as the others busied themselves with preparations to depart the island. He sounded like he knew there was more to the story.

“… Yes”, Zoro replied with a fleeting glance. “It is now.”

At least it would be, he thought.

“Very well”, Brook acknowledged, seeming satisfied with that answer.