#i just have to call so fi to do the thing they claimed i could do where i pay a one time tax thing

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

made a phone call i'd been putting off for like two months, please clap

[writingoddess1125]

Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect pt. 3

Buggy Headcanon. Buggy x Reader

⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Some Angst, Action, Pirating

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<<< Previously. Part 4 >>>>

• Buggy knew being a Warlord while was a massive benefit added a new target to his back- However he would take advantage of these privileges to protect you- His Darling seamstress wife.

• Buggy with his new status made sure no one knew of you- insisting that he had claimed the island that was his home as his territory and even renaming it entirely to Blue Edge Island- Just so people didn't sniff around the spot.

• However it seemed not everyone got the memo-

• You were in the shop, finishing up the latest thing for Buggy. A wedding anniversary gift for your darling- A nice big coat for him that was white and orange, and styled similarly to his idol and former Captian Gold D Roger's. It was probably your best work yet and you were proud.

• Forced from your creative mind as you heard crashing outside. Quickly walking out confused that a light post or building had fallen you stand out in the middle of the street- Others doing the same as you. That was till an unfamiliar pirate ship could be seen and hoards of the aggressive crew yelled and began to slice through your home- Ripping through your Unprotected people like paper.

• Your eyes widening as you turned to run back into your shop and call Buggy- But you were yanked back by a rough hand, A man with a wicked grin

• The pirate snatching the gold necklace from around your neck and shoved it greedily in his pockets- Not even bothering to check the emblem on it.

• "Captian take a look at this one!" He screamed out, Easily overpowering you as he showed you off. The Captian as grimy as he crew jeered at you and ripped you from his lowly members hands and stared you down.

• "Shes pretty- Find the treasures and other fine specimens like this one! And Take her to the ship!" The man yelled, Tossing you towards other crew members and dragging you away to their ship-

• A act they would regret in time.

• Not far from your home in the East Blue Buggy was sailing- he was less then day away from the home he shared with you, planning to visit in his own way. But He had some errands to run however, mainly to stash some of their recent earnings.

• "Buggy Sir!" A Pirate ran up to the Warlord in a total panic, Buggy who was laughing down at his 'employees' working away after another well done job.

• "What What?!" He yelled, The young pirates hesitanting.

• "From the Transporter snail and a surviving resident of the area- Someone raided Blue Edge Island, a women by the name of (Y/N) and several other villagers have been reported stolen by the pirates who did this" The young pirate babbled out-

• "Blue Edge Island?- Is that the little tourist area in the East Blue?-" Mohji mumbled, remembering Buggy ordering for people to keep away from it entirely. Cabaji nodding at this-

• However what was noticed was how oddly silently Buggy was- they all silently looking at each other then at Buggy whos hands were digging into the wood railing- his eyes dark and he was grunting it teeth so hard it sounded like he was chewing sand-

• "....change course...We are heading to Blue Edge Island Now-" He said in a eerily calm voice.

• No one moved a muscle- All just staring at the Warlord who looked ready to explode.

• "I SAID NOW!" His voice roared, loudly- Everyone feeling a rush like they were being strangled in this moment as they felt true fear pour in their vain.

• "YES CAPTIAN!!" Everyone Shouted in unison before rushing off to do as told-

• You were loaded into the unfamiliar ship like cattle, you and other pretty things the Grimy pirates had ripped from your village.

• The crew members shoving a cloth in your mouth as they loaded you and the other scared villagers into the cells. You and the others bound in rope, shivering in fear.

• Feeling the rocking of the ship as the pirates sailed away from your home, after what felt like eternity a man came down- staring at all of you before opening the cell and yanking you out by force. You screaming against the restraints as he pulled you through the halls of the ship before tossing you into what you assumed was the Captian's quarters.

• The Captian staring at you with a wicked grin, fear coursing through your system as he reached forward grabbing the front of your blouse and tearing it open. You crying at this, he groaned and ripped the fabric from your lips.

• "My husband is gonna kick you as-" You started but he backhanded you quickly to shut you up.

• "Silence! You will be perfect, My perfect little bed slav-" The ship suddently rocked harshly, Him staggering as he looked around confused.

• "The hell?!" The angry man yelled as he pulled his hand away from your ruined blouse. You sat there shaking and terrified as you heard loud fighting from outside. Flinching as the doors were slammed open, fear bleeding into you as you expected the pirates from before to return-

• "B-Buggy?" You say softly, Seeing your husband standing there as he sighed in relief at seeing you tossing what seemed to be a man behind him. Rushing to you quickly and Reaching down to quickly cut away the Ropes that held you in place.

• His glove hands running over your face, Wiping the blood from your busted lip from the slap and his face worse then a storm when seeing the ripped blouse and the bruise around your neck from the necklace being ripped away.

• "Are you hurt (Y/N)!?- they didnt-" Be asked carefully, you shaking your head no which seemed to ease your husband greatly as he scooped you up in his arms with great care.

• The second you were in his arms you began to sob, Pressing your face against him as you babbled incoherently 'I was so scared' You managed to wheeze out as Buggg held you close. Rubbing his gloved hand on your back- You didn't see his face but it was twisted in pure rage then..

• Picking you up fully, Buggy carefully walked you out of the Captian's quarters they had you confined in. The other stolen villagers already safely on his ship to get treatment for their injuries.

• No one had ever seen Buggy this pissed off before- It was terrifying. The other pirates beaten within inches of their lives laying there staring at the Warlord once he returned from tucking you into his bed.

• "I-It was just a village!" The Grimy Captian manages out, wheezing through his broken ribs- Buggy scoffed at this and kicked the man square in the mouth shattering his teeth and making the man scream in agony.

• "THAT Village belongs to me- THAT part of the East Blue belongs to me-" Buggy yelled in rage, Pressing a boot into the screaming Captian.

• "and.. THAT women you tried to violate was My Wife-" Buggy said calmly, that's when everyone seemed to understand all at once. The color draining from everyone's faces drained of color.

• Buggy messed with his gloves, a new set you had just sent him and stained with the blood from your lips- he silently listened to the babbling and bloody Captian at his feet begging for his life- 'I didn't know' 'My apologies' and more sprouting from his busted lips- Buggy ignoring them as he stared at the man.

• "You ripped the necklace from her poor neck that had my Jolly Roger on it- You disrespected my Village and My Wife- However I have more important matters for now... So I won't personally rip you apart with my bare hands!" He hissed, But a wide smile that was clearly forced.

• "Set up the Firework Show-" He Said calmly as he turned to walk back to his ship. Buggy's crew seemed to immediately understand what this ment-

• The beaten crew tied to the mast of their own ship as crates of fireworks were loaded on the ship and forced away from the Big Top, Buggy's Canons aimed at the ship as he stood and watched calmly. Already hearing the screams of the other pirates begging for their lives or trying to escape- However that was a foolish thought.

• "FIRE!" Buggy roared once at a safe distance and a massive Buggy Ball was fired at the rival ship- Hitting directly as it exploded in a devastation of colors and screams.

• The Big Top crew all watching the fireworks in awe despite the carnage.

• "Why the Fireworks sir?" Galdino Looking to his Captian who had an unreadable expression on his face.

• "My Wife likes fireworks..." He said simply before dismissing himself while everyone watched the exploding ship and colorful sky-

• Down below Buggy checked on you, Seeing you were asleep wrapped around his pillows. Clearly having cried yourself out.

• Buggy sat on the corner of the bed, His hand rubbing circles on your leg as you laid there- Thinking silently to himself what he needed to do, guilt eating him alive as he stared at you.

• When you woke up you found yourself surrounded...

• By hundreds of Balloon Flowers. Different types and different sizes all scattered around you. Paired with a fresh outfit laid out perfectly on the bed. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had done this.

• You smiling as you touched a balloon sunflower so carefully placed next to you and holding it as a giggle left you-

• "So cheesy.." You whisper out softly and smile.

• Once dressed and holding one of the balloon flowers you walk up to the Main Deck, never having been on Buggys ship before the array of colors surprising you. There were also so many people- Everywhere who would stop for a moment to stare at you, Clearly surprised by your presence.

• Spotting Buggy rather quickly by his inflated size you call to the man. Who turns around red faced and comes to you immediately.

• "Get Back to Bed! You shouldnt be up walking around!" He yelled at you, However you knew this was just his pride and worry for you coming out at the same time. Waving him down to be at your eyelevel, he complies without a thought or word.

• Reaching forward you grab his face gently, giggling at the new scruff there and pull him down for a nice kiss over his lips.

• He gave a Goofy Giggle at this, as red as his nose as you smoothed your hands over his parted hair.

• "Thank you for Rescuing me Buggy Boo~" His eyes soften at this, smiling softly.

• "Anything for you Doll" He all but purred out as he peppered kisses on your cheeks and held you close making you giggle happily.

• His eyes widened however as he saw everyone staring at him with their jaws on the floor he awkwardly coughed.

• "Doll-l um let's get you back to the room okay? It's best until we get back to Blue Edge for now-" He said with the gentlest voice and had one of his hands escort you back to his quarters.

• "What are you looking at?" He growled in defense as everyone scrambled back to work.

• Alvida giggled at this point and looked at him "Whats with the Buggy Bo-"

• "SHUT UP!!"

• It soon spread like wild fire that The Infamous Warlord Buggy had a Wife that was WAY too hot for him-

[ckret2]

Chapter 50 of by this point human Bill Cipher is almost relieved to be imprisoned in the Mystery Shack again: Bill tells Mabel about his adventures, and Ford and Dipper tell Fiddleford about theirs.

But first Bill's gonna die for a bit.

"Guys! You're okay!" Mabel flung her arms around Dipper and squeezed him. "We were worried you were floating around and broke your legs when the gravity came back."

"N—no, we were fine," Dipper said. 

Mabel let go of Dipper to hug Ford next—and then drew back, looked him up and down, and looked at Bill. "What happened to your clothes?"

Bill said, "We fell in the lake."

"Ha!"

"Tate was kind enough to loan us dry clothes," Ford said.

"You look like big dorks." She turned to Bill last, took in his dirty haggard appearance, and said, "And you look awful. Where have you guys been the last two days?"

"Thanks for asking! I've been in..." Bill glanced at Stan. "Am I allowed to say the name of the place I've been?"

Stan shook his head. "Not in front of the kids, you don't."

Bill sighed. "Agony. I've been in agony."

"Aww!" She hugged Bill last. "I like your stupid Fishmas sweater."

"Consider it yours as soon as I can change." He wriggled out of her embrace to point at his feet. "Check out the shoes, though!"

Mabel cracked up. "Omigosh, fish slippers! Fi— Fishlers? Fishppers?"

"Fishoes?"

"Fishoes!"

Soos said, "What did happen out there?" He was in the kitchen, cleaning and reorganizing after zero gravity had tossed everything out of order. "Did you heroically save Gravity Falls from imminent multidimensional devastation?"

Ford said, "No. Aside from the effects on gravity, it... turned out to be a benign phenomenon."

"Oh," Soos said. "Like... what Bill said?"

Ford grimaced. He managed to just nod instead of saying afraid so.

Again, he expected Bill to gloat; again, Bill said nothing. He didn't even look at Ford.

"It wasn't an eclipse, though," Dipper muttered, shooting a dark look at Bill. "It would've been an eclipse if it had gotten between us and gravity. It was basically the opposite."

"What do you want from me." The question was more sighed than spoken. "It was called an eclipse when I was growing up, I dunno what to tell you."

Ford, Dipper, and Mabel all looked straight at Bill at the mention of his childhood; but he didn't say anything more. He just trudged to the kitchen and leaned tiredly on the doorframe, watching Soos work. "Grab me something from the fridge."

"Sure thing, dawg." Soos opened the door. "What do you want?"

Bill was silent for a moment. Slowly, like a spirit medium channeling a faint message from the other side, he said, "I think... the body wants a vegetable. Gimme some guacamole."

"Sorry, dude, we had the last of it with dinner."

"Fine. Just give me an avocado and salsa, I'll make do."

"You got it."

"Two avocados."

Soos started rummaging through the jumbled mess in the fridge. "So if everything was okay, what took you guys so long to get back?"

"Yeah, I've been wanting to ask," Stan said. (He hadn't been able to in the car; when everyone realized Bill had passed out as soon as he'd sat down, they'd fallen into an awkward silence.) "Was the demon making trouble or what?"

Dipper and Ford exchanged a glance; who wanted to share the embarrassing news? Ford said, "Actually, under the circumstances, he was... well behaved." Ford resisted the urge to add the modifier "tolerably." It seemed mean-spirited. Bill had constantly complained, sure, but in retrospect could Ford say the complaints were unjustified?

"Then what took you so long?"

Now Ford felt Bill's gaze on him, watching him sharply. Ford understood now. This was why Bill hadn't mentioned saving them. He was holding it in reserve—offering a deal. If Ford and Dipper didn't embarrass him, he wouldn't embarrass them. If they mentioned his breakdown, he could cut in, claim it was natural for him to be in shock after performing such a difficult, heroic deed.

It wasn't blackmail, per se. Revealing the truth wouldn't cost anybody anything but a bit of momentary self-consciousness. But wasn't that just like Bill—only passing up an opportunity to boast so he could use it to shield his ego.

"It was Bill's fault," Dipper said quickly. Ford's heart leaped into his throat. "Because—we had to climb up and down the tunnel to Gravity Peak, and he only brought dress shoes and dumb fish slippers. We kept having to slow down."

Ford felt the pressure of Bill's gaze slide off of his face as he turned away, staring back into the kitchen. Bill said, "Yep. Guess I should have brought my hiking shoes—oh, wait."

Stan said, "You could've got some better shoes when we were at the mall! You're the one who wanted those dumb dress shoes."

"In my defense, I didn't think you paranoiacs would ever let me wander around in the great outdoors—much less force me to." He leaned more heavily against the doorway with a groan, muttering, "My legs are still jelly. Worthless human body."

Dipper glanced at Ford, as if checking with him to see if he'd made the right decision. Ford gave him a tiny nod of approval. After the day they'd had, humiliating Bill just for the sake of humiliation wouldn't have served any justice; it would have just been mean.

For the past three decades, Ford had always felt that Bill deserved the strongest possible punishment, both for his prior atrocities and to prevent future ones; but, he wanted to deal with Bill swiftly and efficiently. No gloating, no torture—just one quick shot. Sure, he got some grim satisfaction from knowing Bill was unhappy—knowing that Bill's vile intentions were being thwarted—and if anyone decided to treat Bill cruelly for cruelty's sake, he couldn't say they were wrong for it... but the thought of committing it himself made him uneasy.

He tried to remember if he'd felt that way when Bill had first arrived.

"I found the salsa!" Soos called from the fridge. "Somehow it all floated onto the highest shelf? Which kind do you want?"

"That one with a picture of a sobbing baby on it."

"Extra spicy it is!"

When Soos handed over the salsa and avocados, Bill said, "Hey, Hick Junior said his father was making announcements about staying inside and low to the ground? You didn't happen to have anything to do with that, did you?"

"Oh—yeah, I called Old Man McGucket and said I had a hot anonymous tip about what was going on," Soos said. "You said it was this whole public safety thing, so I figured the whole town should probably know? He's the local respected science guy now, I thought he'd know what to do with that kind of important information."

Bill grunted. "Terrific, he gets credit for my help. But you'd all be giving me heck if I'd said nothing and half the town broke their necks, so... whatever, net zero. Here." Bill took off the Monster-Mon backpack and swung it over to Soos. "Your reward. Good job."

"Whoa, haha, this is heavy. What's in here, a bag of rocks?"

"No, just one." Bill pushed off the doorway, wheeled unsteadily around, and trudged toward the stairs.

Soos unzipped the bag. A drugged geodite blinked sleepily up at him. He gasped. "Dude! A real Monster-Mon! Is this my call to epic adventure with a lovable animal sidekick?"

Ford grimaced, remembering watching Bill feed a geodite cold medicine. "Ah."

"I think I'll name you... Rocky," Soos said.

"That—really shouldn't be here. Its natural environment is caves, I don't know if it's safe for it to be out here—for it or us." They had been known to bite.

"Aww." Soos cradled the backpack like a swaddled baby. "Do you think it would be okay if I made it a fake cave to live in?" He gasped. "I could make an exhibit for him! I'll say he's a living meteorite! People love aliens."

"I'm not sure that..." Ford sighed. Well, none of them were going back to the cave today. "Maybe you should put it in the cellar where it's darker."

"Great idea!" Soos carried the geodite through the living room. "Hey, I've already got a mattress down there. You're gonna love it, lil dude..."

Ford hoped Soos didn't get attached to that thing. He shot a glower at Bill.

Bill was already on the stairs. "Now everybody leave me alone. Except you." He pointed at Mabel. "I don't want to do anything but lay on the floor and talk about whatever Mabel wants to talk about for the next three hours."

"Cartoons and boy bands."

"Yes," Bill sighed in relief, already preparing to turn 95% of his brain off. "Wow, yes, that's exactly what I want to talk about. I can't wait." He grabbed the handrail as he climbed heavily, leaning against it for balance as he dragged himself upstairs.

Before Mabel could follow him, Ford put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, before you go—there's something I wanted to tell you and Dipper." Voice low, he said, "You remember when you told me that Bill had mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop?"

"Yeah? When we were drawing our houses."

"Something Bill said while we were out shook a memory loose. It reminded me of a book I read as an undergraduate—Flatworld, written by Edward Bishop Bishop."

"Aww," Mabel said. "Not an artist?"

"No, although he did illustrate the book," Ford said. "It's a novella that combines Victorian social commentary with a primer on higher-dimensional mathematics by using an allegory about sentient shapes living in a two-dimensional world."

"That's what you were talking about in the boat, right?" Dipper asked. "When Bill said something about..." He scrunched his face, trying to remember, "'Up in the sky'...?"

"Upward-but-not-skyward," Ford said, "to describe something that isn't higher than us in the third dimension, but rather, in a higher dimension relative to us."

"How do you know about it?" Dipper asked. "The first time it came up, you said the name Edward Bishop Bishop was familiar, but..."

Ford sighed in irritation, "I read it as an undergraduate—in a haze of sleep-deprived exhaustion just before finals week—to get extra credit in a course on the history of mathematics. I immediately forgot ninety percent of it—which I'm sure is why I never thought of it in relation to Bill. If only I'd remembered the book thirty years ago, when it might have done me some good..."

"It's okay," Mabel said. "I forget almost everything I've read for class basically as soon as I've taken the test. I think it's pretty good that you remember anything about Flatworld at all!"

Ford smiled awkwardly. He was afraid that might say more about Mabel's study habits than about his. "Thank you, Mabel."

"And you did have a lot on your mind thirty years ago," Dipper said. "Like, Bill. Literally. On your mind."

Mabel added, "Doing creepy possession things!"

"I suppose that's true, too." What would he have done if he had remembered the book during that frenetic, delirious period when Bill and Ford had wrestled for control over his body? He'd been in no fit shape to go to the library. "I did think about it a couple of times in the multiverse—when I was visiting Exwhylia, for instance—but at the time I'd brushed it off as a lucky coincidence that I'd read a book that invented a society of shapes. It wouldn't be the first time science fiction predicted science fact. But now that Bill's mentioned it twice, I'd say it's less likely a coincidence and more likely that Edward Bishop Bishop was another of his 'students.'"

"Is there a way for us to find out?" Dipper asked. "If he was Bill's student, would he have left behind any... hints? Coded messages?"

"Like secret society conspiracy things?" Mabel asked.

"Yeah!"

"I suppose it's possible," Ford said. "If Flatworld happens to feature a one-eyed yellow triangle sharing the secrets of the universe, we'll know for sure. But, there's only one way to find out: now that I do remember the book, we can pick up a copy for research."

"That's great," Dipper said. "If Bill told the author about his home dimension... there's no telling how much we can learn about him by reading it."

"So it's basically a math textbook disguised as a story?" Mabel groaned. "That's just like doing word problems! The most confusing kind of math problems. Why does Bill keep making me have homework this summer?"

"You know what he's like," Dipper said, elbowing her with a grin. "Dastardly villain."

"Pure evil."

Ford huffed. "If it helps, as I recall the book teaches you about math concepts, but it doesn't make you do any math."

She let out a longer, more theatrical groan. "Fine. But if there's a cousin Throckmorton I'm throwing the book away."

"I dunno, sounds kinda neat," Dipper said. "It might give me a leg up when we start geometry."

"I don't remember the details of what it covers, but I bet it could," Ford agreed. "I have to visit Fiddleford this evening to return the equipment he loaned us, and... discuss the events of the last couple of days. If the library's still open when we're done I can go by and see if they have a copy of Flatworld."

"Can I come along?" Dipper asked.

"Of course. Just give me a moment to..." He looked down at himself, "change into something a little less ridiculous."

Dipper tried not to laugh. "Okay. I'll wait here. Mabel, do you want to...?"

"No thanks!" She pointed upstairs. "I've got a captive audience to teach about boy bands. I'm going to make him listen to Sev'ral Timez's entire discography."

"He's already had a pretty bad day. Don't torture him even more."

Mabel blew a raspberry. "He'll love it." She bounded up the stairs.

Ford headed to his and Stan's guest room. Dipper took off his backpack, dropped it in the living room, and stuck his hands in his pockets—then pulled one out in surprise.

The enchanted friendship bracelets. They were still in his pocket. Bill hadn't had them on since Dipper's out-of-body experience that morning.

Dipper stared at them uneasily; then hung them in their usual place on the entryway coat rack and resumed waiting for Ford.

####

It was a rare opportunity that Bill was allowed in the kids' room; but with Ford and Dipper out of the house, the one person most likely to complain wasn't around. So after having extracted a strict promise for him to behave himself, Mabel had let him in, for ease of gossip and CD-switching.

But even if Dipper had been in the room, he wouldn't have found much worth complaining about. Once Bill had finished his snack (he'd eaten the avocados like pears, skin and all, and drank down the salsa like a chunky smoothie), he'd laid down on the floor, and since then had remained a dead lump. Face buried in his crossed arms, curled up in the oversized Fishmas sweater and a set of loose stolen-from-Soos sweats to replace the towel skirt, he might as well have been a pile of laundry that had sprouted curly golden hair. Mabel had put Sev'ral Timez's first album on the boombox, sat herself on Bill's back, and started brushing out his damp, knotted curls without asking as she talked about each track.

To her delight, Bill started insisting they skip past the slow, emotional love ballads, saying he preferred the bouncier dancier tracks; she thought the fact that he was displaying a preference rather than begging to turn the band off was a good sign. He was actually listening to the music. Possibly even liking it! Maybe she'd manage to convert him into a fan. She recounted her experiences with the band's cloned members and Bill threw in the polite "Mhm" and "Uh-huh?" where appropriate without lifting his head from the floor or opening his eyes. She'd thought he might have had something to throw in about the cloning thing, that seemed like the kind of conspiracy nonsense he might have a hand in; but if he knew anything, he wasn't up to sharing it.

When she'd wrangled his hair into some semblance of order, she got to work on his fingernails. His arm was like a dead weight in her hands, loose and unresisting but not helping, either. He shifted his head over to rest on his other arm and otherwise didn't move.

"Your fingernail polish is destroyed," Mabel said. On three fingers the paint had been all but completely scraped off. When he'd left a couple of days ago, it had just been lightly chipped. She started stripping the remainder with nail polish remover.

"Is it?" Bill mumbled. "Mmh. Yeah, probably from clawing in the dirt."

"Pfff. What did you do the last couple of days?"

Bill slowly sucked in a breath so deep that Mabel felt his back lift her a little higher off the ground; and then he just as slowly let it back out. "Do not," he said, "get me started."

He got started.

He began with a tirade about the contempt that both Ford and Dipper had shown him and his far superior subject matter expertise for the last two days; and then about being hauled out and exposed during totality after repeating over and over how dangerous it was and how much he would prefer to not do that—Ford had even admitted he'd dragged Bill out into open air just because he knew how much he didn't want that!—and from there Bill looped back to listing a whole litany of gripes against what he perceived as egregious and undeserved disrespect from Ford over the last couple of weeks—"Youmight have lied to me about that glass pyramid, but at least you didn't laugh in my face about it!"

(Mabel thought Ford pretty much had the right to be as disrespectful to Bill as he wanted, after everything Bill had put him through. Lying about a silly imaginary cult was less mean than lying about taking over the universe. But part of being a good friend, she knew well, was lending a sympathetic ear to your friend's venting without suggesting that said friend might be in the wrong. She had a Color Critters episode about being honest with your friends she could show him later.)

Bill seemed to gain strength as he aired his grievances, bolstered by Mabel's encouraging "mhm" "uh-huh" noises. By the time she'd finished repainting his first hand (she'd picked a glittery purple polish she thought would complement all the yellow he wore), he was sitting upright and Mabel had to sit in front of him to start on his other hand.

"—and my stupid feet hurt," Bill griped. "Since Stanford made me traipse halfway through the mountain barefoot because he wouldn't let us go back down before the gravity returned and I don't even own shoes for spelunking. And my knees hurt, and my back hurts, and I could have killed for a walking stick but do think they'd have allowed me one if I asked? Because I don't think so! I tripped over—I don't know, a hundred roots."

"Worst hiking trip ever." Mabel finished painting his second hand, and started looking through her miniature sticker sheets for some fun stickers to put on Bill's first hand now that it was dry.

"Worst in the history of your planet! Even the Donner party had a better hike! At least some of them got something to eat," Bill said. "All I got for two days was a handful of cereal and Stanford's liquid meat in a toothpaste tube."

Mabel stuck out her tongue.

"And Stanford walks too fast. And your brother kept trying to squeeze through gaps between trees I couldn't get through. And Stanford kept fiddling with his—stupid—useless antique Civil War lantern he's so proud of, and he's just lucky that I thought to bring a way to find a light source even though I didn't even need one, because I knew he would bring that stupid Civil War lantern..." Bill's complaints petered out.

And then, voice oddly quiet, he said, "And I saw my corpse." 

Mabel looked up from carefully placing a yellow butterfly on Bill's middle fingernail. There was a dark look in his eyes. "Oh," she said. "Oh, Bill. I'm so sorry."

This wasn't just a bad camping trip. This was serious. She had to treat it seriously.

She ejected the current CD from the boombox, put in another Sev'ral Timez album, and skipped to track 4: "This goes out to anyone having a bad day. Ladies, this one's for you. 'Girl, today has been—straight whack. You don't know how you're gonna—bounce back. But any time you're down, I'll always be around; I'll drive your heart back to Happy Town'..." Oh yeah. That was the exact energy Mabel was trying to channel.

"And I didn't feel anything when I touched it." Bill was staring down at his hands like he barely recognized them. "No energy, no connection—nothing. What if there isn't a connection anymore? What if I'm just a human now?"

Did that weigh on Bill? Clearly, enough that he'd decided to endure imprisonment in the Mystery Shack rather than kill his body to see if there was still a triangle inside.

But he'd never talked about it before now; she'd thought maybe he just didn't worry about it.

But that was dumb. Of course he worried about it. He was just like her. When something scared him, he just pushed it down and hoped that if he ignored it enough, everything would be okay! Until he couldn't pretend anymore.

And she'd never heard him sound this scared before.

She took his hands and hoped that would help.

He squeezed her hands so hard it hurt. His still-wet nail polish smeared on her hand. "What if I'm really gonna grow old and die in this rotting meat doll, what if I never go home again—? There's so much I haven't done, I was going to throw an eternal party, it would have been beautiful, everyone would have loved me, but now— and now—" He let out a choked noise, head bowing over their joined hands, posture broken. Hot tears landed on the backs of Mabel's hands. "And I didn't even get to, just, die and be done with it, I have to know I'm dead, I have to know everything I was going to do..."

"Hey—come here." Mabel tentatively wrapped her arms around Bill's neck and shoulders, compressing his bouncy curls. She half expected him to pull away.

Instead, he buried his face against her shoulder and hugged her back like she was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

After spending the last two days suppressing his grief and fear so hard his body couldn't function through it—after spending over a month suppressing his grief and fear—finally, finally, he peeled the tape off his cracked shell to let it leak out. He couldn't hold it together anymore. He'd barely put himself back together long enough to get on his feet and make it to the shack. This was the only place it was safe to fall apart. He muffled his sobs in Mabel's sweater.

And Mabel—who was used to being comforted by adults but who had never been called upon herself to comfort anybody but her brother and the occasional friend—had no idea how she was supposed to comfort a zillion-year-old almost-definitely-adult alien through an existential crisis.

Not for the first time, she wondered whether she might have gotten in over her head.

She pushed the worry down. Everything would be okay. Bill needed her—she could feel him trembling—and he didn't have anybody else in the world he could trust. And if she didn't know what else to do, at the least she could keep hugging him.

Voice so tight it almost squeezed out as a whisper, Bill said, "I was going to make a utopia here, but now I'm just gonna die here."

"I'm so sorry." How do you comfort someone processing the fear of mortality? She'd never processed it herself, she was thirteen, it was just another scary future thing she'd deal with when she had to. The best she knew how to do was be nice. "But... I'm here, okay? For—for anything you need." (Anything that wasn't evil, anyway—but now was not the appropriate time to make Bill feel like her support was conditional.)

"Tell me I won't die."

"You won't die! You're never, ever gonna die." Mabel hugged him tighter. "I'll fistfight Death. I'll—break his bony kneecaps."

"Thanks."

"I'll swing at the reaper with a baseball bat."

Bill laughed feebly. "With nails in it?"

"Yeah! And barbed wire! Connected to a battery!"

"Oh, we're taking Death down. Nobody's dying ever again."

"Everybody lives forever!" Mabel laughed; but it quickly petered out. "But... I'm not gonna let you die. You're my friend, and I won't let anything happen to you."

Bill's trembling had stopped, and his embrace was less death-grippy. "I owe you one, Shooting Star." From Bill, "thanks" sounded hollow, but "I owe you one" really sounded like a thank you.

"Hey. If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to do anything evil with it?"

"Sure. Promise."

Mabel doubted it, but that was as good as she was gonna get. "I've always thought you're still a triangle on the inside. You've got those creepy cat eyes that see the future and stuff! If you were just a normal human, wouldn't you have normal human eyes?"

Bill made a noncommittal noise.

"Plus, if you'd really been turned into a human on the inside, then being in a human body wouldn't feel so bad—right? It'd just feel normal."

Bill was silent for a moment. Voice hoarse, he whispered, "I hope you're right."

####

Fiddleford answered the door himself. "Stanford, Dipper, come in! I was just cleaning up." He had a broom, and the great hall's floor behind him was sparkling with broken glass. Ford was relieved to see Fiddleford had put on shoes. Unfortunately, they were fuzzy slippers. "Pardon the mess!"

"Think nothing of it. The shack's been turned upside-down, too." Ford stepped around a broken chair. "Don't you have anyone to help you clean, though?"

"Oh, I do, I do! I built me a Janitorial Executive Drone to tidy up," Fiddleford said. "I'm just cleaning up the mess JED left."

Ford and Dipper looked around at the shattered glass, broken furniture, scorch marks around the fireplace, and torn curtains. Dipper asked, "Did... JED make this place any cleaner?"

"Not at all!"

Ford and Dipper caught Fiddleford up on their scientific findings of the last couple days. Ford was almost embarrassed to admit they hadn't found any noteworthy quantities of micro-rips, as if he were confessing to a personal academic embarrassment—even after Fiddleford pointed out that it had been his own theory, not Ford's. (All the same, Ford hated to be so wrong, even by association. Being wrong felt like a moral failing.)

In return, Fiddleford told them what he'd been up to. He'd confirmed with them NASA fellas that the odd gravity effects weren't detected anywhere but Gravity Falls. At their behest, he'd set up some sensors around town, and when gravity suddenly reversed, the measurements they'd taken had allowed him to make a very loose model of the shape of the force that caused it. He showed Ford and Dipper the model on a computer in his lab, black screen with sharp glowing green lines forming an armature in the shape of a force. It looked like an enormous flying sausage that tapered down at one end. Too little detail to tell exactly what it was; but it certainly could have been an axolotl.

It was turning to look at the cliff where they'd stood.

Fiddleford wasn't pleased to find out the information he'd passed on from Soos had originally come from Bill; but he'd suspected it and already done all his soul-searching before reluctantly sharing his advice with the masses and hoping it wouldn't come back to bite him. "He didn't bother to warn us that gravity would actually disappear today, though," Fiddleford said indignantly. "So he could crow about being right and still get to see some folks get hurt, I reckon."

"Actually, this time I don't think he was hiding it. I kinda think he just made a mistake?" Dipper said.

Ford nodded. "Dipper's right. Bill was incredibly alarmed this morning when it became clear our estimates were wrong. It only made more trouble for him."

"I suppose," Fiddleford said grudgingly; then gave them a sharp look. "This mornin'? You took him camping?"

Ford and Dipper winced. Ford mumbled, "Not for fun."

"Stanford Pines—!"

It took a minute of hooting and hollering before Ford could calm Fiddleford down enough to explain the circumstances: that they'd only brought Bill because of just how much he explicitly did not want to be brought; that it had been a thoroughly unpleasant experience for everyone and Ford had never expected it to be otherwise; and that Bill had proven useful—Ford decided not to share the details—but he hadn't forgotten that Bill always made himself useful before he betrayed someone. If a man helped a little old lady cross a street, opened her door for her, put up her groceries, and then knocked her out and burgled her house, only one of those actions mattered.

(Dipper fell silent rather than help reassure Fiddleford. Ford supposed that was because he'd objected to bringing Bill, too.)

Fiddleford grudgingly admitted that under the circumstances, bringing Bill had been logical. "But that's just the thing—sometimes your logic don't account for the fact that you've got human emotions, too."

"Ah, yes, those human emotions. One of my worst flaws," Ford joked.

Fiddleford didn't laugh. "I mean it, Stanford. The most logical plan in the world don't mean nothing if he talks you into throwing it aside."

Ford thought of all the times he'd let his temper get the best of him over the last couple of days. Could he really say he'd made the logical decision when he'd made it out of anger? "Yes. I... see what you mean."

"Just be careful," Fiddleford said. "I saw you under that demon's oppression for months and never thought it was anything worse than how you always got around finals week—heck, for all I saw, I reckon he coulda started possessing you without me noticing—and I don't want that to happen again!"

Dipper winced. Ford found somewhere other than Fiddleford's face to look.

"What?"

"He... did. Possess me." (Dipper didn't pipe up with his experience. Ford didn't blame him.)

"He what? When?!"

"Remember toward the end of the project? When I started pulling all-nighters to finish the calculations...?"

Fiddleford smacked his forehead and sank down into the nearest chair.

Ford winced again. "I should have told you." During their talks over the past year, he'd been very reluctant to mention Bill or the fallout at the end of the portal project. They both had. "But—I assumed you'd guessed by now. What did you think was happening?"

"Frankly? I thought you'd started taking something illicit."

Ford snorted. "I—all right." He'd done stupider things during finals week.

"If he was possessin' you, why didn't you ask for help? I could've found somebody who knows how to do exorcisms. Did he not let you? Or—or did I miss you trying to tell me...?"

Ford shook his head. "No, I didn't want an exorcism." He wasn't sure Bill was the kind of "demon" that responded to exorcisms anyway. "At the time, I thought... that he was helping me."

Dipper reluctantly piped up, "He... possessed me once too. I didn't know that's what he was doing until too late, but... Even after you know he's a bad guy, he's really good at making you think he's just helping."

Fiddleford didn't immediately say anything to that. Ford couldn't meet his gaze.

Finally, Fiddleford said, voice low and worried, "Just tell me you won't let him get into your head again. Either one'a you."

Dipper shook his head. "Definitely not."

Ford said, "As he is now with all his powers gone, I don't think he can enter my head. Anyway, I had a metal plate surgically installed—"

"I didn't mean that way."

Right. "I won't. I promise."

Fiddleford nodded. "Didja really get a metal plate installed?"

Ford knocked on it demonstratively.

"Hmm." Fiddleford stroked his beard thoughtfully. He pointed at a contraption in the corner that looked like a ten foot tall tuning fork with electricity arcing between its tips. "Try not to get within five feet of that thing."

Ford eyed it nervously.

####

Fiddleford insisted Ford and Dipper stay for dinner. It was the first proper meal they'd had after two days of tubes mushy meat and mushy vegetables; so they tried not to show their disappointment when they received mushy meat and mushy vegetables. Fiddleford's automatic meatloaf-and-mashed-potatoes maker did its job more competently than JED did its, but Ford suspected that was partially because it didn't have legs to let it go get in trouble.

As they drove back into town, a stoplight turned red at the intersection with Main Street. Ford glanced down Main toward the library and asked, "Do you still want to stop by the library?"

Dipper, who'd nearly nodded off, blinked sleepily. "Huh?"

"To pick up Flatworld?"

Dipper yawned. "Honestly, I kinda just wanna go home and sleep."

"I hear that." He'd almost drowned today. He was exhausted. "Perhaps this weekend."

"Aren't you going to that concert with Mabel?"

"Was that this Saturday?" He'd lost track. Mabel had won four tickets from some radio contest to see Phrancisco in Portland and had asked Ford if he'd like to come. "I'm undecided. I'd like to go—I've been a fan of Invisible Plastic Yellow since they formed." He was the one who'd told Mabel about the band after their Portland trip and gotten her their albums. He'd had a phase when he'd really gotten into cutting-edge underground new wave music. It had made him feel conventionally cool, which not many things did. Now, all his musical tastes were three decades behind. He hadn't even known Phrancisco had a solo career until Mabel came home with tickets.

"But she's bringing her friends, and whoever has the fourth ticket needs to chaperone; and I'm afraid an old man escorting around three young girls would look... odd. It may be more appropriate for one of the other girls' parents to go." But he did want to see Phrancisco. "Perhaps I'll wait and see whether Mabel talks me into it."

"Better pack your bag now, then."

Ford laughed. He had a point. "If I do go to Portland, maybe I can stop by a bookstore to pick up Flatworld. If it tells us anything useful about Bill, I suspect we'll want a household copy for reference."

He was eager to reread it. He'd forgotten so much of it since college. He only recalled the vague, overarching plot: something about a third-dimensional sphere teaching a second-dimensional square about realities with higher and lower dimensions—from zero dimensions up to four—and a stuffy society based on what geometric shape you were... but that was it. He probably never even would have remembered the phrase "up but not north" if Bill hadn't referenced it. He wondered how much it could have helped him if he'd reread it sooner.

Dipper yawned again. "Sounds good."

The light turned green; and Ford drove past the library and headed on home.

####

(After going full tilt for two months, we finally get a breather lol. I hope y'all enjoyed, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!)

[skyahri]

And Suddenly |BNHA Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Shouta Aizawa, Dabi/Touya Todoroki, and Katsuki Bakugou

Summary: They proposition you for a baby.

Warnings: NSFW themes. Straight up fucking, leading to sex, foul language, you get it. Reader in Dabi's is NOT of sound mind lol.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Shouta Aizawa

He doesn't know what prompted this line of thinking. Nothing had happened, no one had mentioned anything. No, this was all 100% his own doing, and that almost made it worse.

Over the years, you'd occasionally claim to have something called 'baby fever'. There would be days when you'd send him videos of babies babbling, playing, wearing silly outfits, whatever of the sort. You'd tell him your ovaries were aching, that you wanted nothing more in that moment than to have one of your own.

Being the man of reason he is, he'd always tell you that now wasn't the time. Hero work was grueling and your studies kept you busy. You'd assure him that the feelings were always (mostly) fleeting, hormones and all that, and the conversation would end there.

It had always been one-sided, that is, until a few weeks ago when he'd finally gotten a taste of said fever. Let's just say he was not a fan.

Nothing had changed, yet he found himself hyperaware of every little human in his vicinity. It's like his brain did a complete turn around. Brief glances quickly turned into longing stares. He'd internally coo over their tiny socks and bright smiles. Hell, he'd even caught himself waving at a little girl in her stroller the other day and was still living off the high he felt when she giggled and waved back.

He'd only been getting by on the idea that this was temporary. That like you, it'd be all better soon and he can go back to enjoying the simple things in life without his brain badgering him.

But that was weeks ago, and the feeling had only solidified further into his mind.

He tried to reason himself back to normal, but was finding it increasingly difficult to do so. You graduated two years ago and have a great job in your field. He had long surpassed the rookie stage of his career and was thriving. You lived in a decent apartment in a good neighborhood. Money was no longer tight and you'd built quite the safety cushion.

And then there was you. Again, nothing had changed overnight, but he was suddenly plagued by vivid visions of you. How easily he could get you pregnant. How you'd look so sinfully pretty with a round belly. How he'd love nothing more than to take care of you while you gave him the greatest gift he could ever hope to receive.

And he knew you'd love nothing more.

Honestly, he was having a hard time finding reasons not to cave into his desires. Which is how he suddenly found himself in such a position.

He's hovering above you, his red tinted face illuminated by the moonlight. He has your hand pinned to the mattress at an awkward angle, but neither of you are willing to move to fix it. He's darting between your eyes, words caught in his throat and no way to get them out.

Thinking and doing are two very different things, and he hadn't planned on bringing this up at all, let alone right now.

"Don't."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not quite understanding what's going on. One moment he's rolling on top of you, kissing down your neck and over your collarbones. You're fumbling around, trying to reach for the top drawer of the nightstand when his hand shoots out to grab your wrist.

"Shouta, what-"

"Don't bother with it."

He leans down to recapture your lips, but you use your free hand to stop him in his tracks. Your eyes narrow a bit as you try to get a read on him. He usually has little tells that give away how he's feeling, but right now you can't decipher any of them. He looks just as lost as you feel.

"I haven't been taking any kind of birth control."

"I know."

"Then why are you-"

"I want a baby."

Your eyes widen and breath falters. Your hand falls from his shoulder to lay flush against your chest.

"I don't understand. You said we weren't ready."

"That was then, and this is now."

"Shou."

Despite the serious look you give him, your insides are on fire. Sure, the intense and urgent feelings associated with baby fever were always fleeting, but that didn't mean that was the only time you'd felt the desire. You always wanted a family- a husband and kids to love and cherish- and Shouta knew that.

Now here he was, telling you that after a lifetime of friendship, four years of dating, and four more years of marriage, you could finally have what you've always wanted.

He leans back enough to sit on his calves and stare down at you. He seems more sure of himself now. Whatever turmoil he had been going through earlier had subsided, and he was left more confident in his decision. He swallowed hard and fiddles with his hand a bit before deciding to rest both of them on your open thighs.

"I can't stop thinking about it. I thought it would pass, but it just got stronger. I tried talking myself down, but there's nothing stopping us anymore. We're both willing and wanting, so just..."

He's leaning back down, and this time, you don't stop him. You let him kiss you, let him trace his rough hands up your sides, let him claim you with no reservations, all while the condoms sit untouched in the nightstand.

Touya Todoroki / Dabi

Dabi had a tendency to ramble. Sometimes to himself, sometimes to whoever would listen, and sometimes he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Sex was no different.

What he says all boils down to the kind of mood he's in. If he's angry or frustrated, he'll degrade you. He'll call you a whore, tell you that you're desperate and whiney, and will shove your face into the pillow in an attempt to shut you up so he can hear himself speak. If he's in a decent mood (or being generous, as he puts it), he'll praise you. He'll mumble sweet nothings in your ear, tell you how pretty you are, how lucky he is to have you.

All of that is fine. You're more than willing to take whatever he wants to give, but lately he'd taken on an entirely different type of rant.

The first time he mumbled something about getting you pregnant, you didn't think much of it. All men succumb to their instincts at one point or another, and Dabi wasn't excluded from that. But then he mentioned it again a few days later, this time with a little more heat behind it.

You didn't say anything, instead deciding to live in your own little fantasies as long as he wasn't being reckless. Maybe that was a mistake on your part, because it's only a few weeks later that he's completely invested in the idea.

Knees pressed firmly to your chest, he's drilling into you with a new kind of passion. His forehead is against yours, his eyes screwed shut as he clutches at the backs of your thighs. You can't hear all of what he's saying over the sound of skin on skin, but it's enough to have you slightly worried.

"Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up so full."

"Bet I could get you pregnant on the first try."

"I'd take such good care of you."

"I'd be everything he wasn't, give my kids the life they deserve."

Desires to fuck you full have quickly become promises to succeed. Your fucked out brain is urging you to stop him, that he sounds a little too serious right now, but you can't find it in yourself to comply. Dabi is, without a single doubt, completely fucked in the head. This is something you're entirely too aware of and should be the thing willing you to fucking stop him, but it's not.

So you let your mind relax. You throw yourself full force into the feeling of him hitting that spongey spot deep inside. You let him kiss you and touch you and listen to all the little promises he makes.

It's no surprise when he doesn't pull out. You don't say anything when he moves to lay beside you and he doesn't bring it up. Maybe it's some kind of unspoken agreement, or maybe you were thinking too far into what very well may just be a kink. Only time will tell.

Katsuki Bakugou

"Did you seriously not pack any condoms?"

"Why the Hell would I?"

"Is that a serious question?"

You shoot him an incredulous look. He ignores you as he enters the bathroom and begins to strip out of his suit. You follow him, careful not to snag your dress on any of the luggage stacked against the wall.

You glare at him, even as he motions for you to turn around and unzips you. The white fabric bunches at your ankles and he's quick to pick it up and hang it inside the plastic dry-cleaning bag.

"Is that a serious question? You're my wife now, I'm not wearing any more fucking condoms."

"Well, you should've said that before we got here so I could've prepared something else!"

"Why the Hell would you need to do that?"

He scoffs at you and continues hanging his suit up, folding it as nicely as possible to avoid damaging the expensive material. Any sort of frustration you're feeling has been replaced by confusion. You feel like you're having two entirely different conversations.

When he finally turns back around to face you, he's staring down at you like you're the one being unreasonable. Like he doesn't understand why any of this could possibly be an issue.

"So, what? You planned on hitting raw for the next two weeks and just praying for the best?"

"No. I planned on hitting raw for the next two weeks and prayed we'd go home pregnant."

Your mouth snaps shut. Any fighting spirit you possessed is gone in an instant and you're left at his mercy. He places one hand on the wall near your head and sets the other on the counter. He's looming over you, using his size to intimidate you.

"That's what we agreed on all those years ago, right?"

At first, you don't know what he's talking about. You racked your brain for any semblance of the topic, but when you came up short, you couldn't help but think he might be bullshitting you. Just as you're about to ask him for clarification, you remember a conversation you had not long after graduation.

You'd both had sidekick positions lined up right out of high school. Your careers were up and coming and your relationship was strong. While you were happy with the pace things were going, it didn't stop his parents from pestering you about next steps.

It was probably the hundredth time Mitsuki had asked you about grandkids. You'd given her plenty of reasonable reasons why kids were most definitely not in the cards right now- career opportunities, money, not to mention the fact that you were both nineteen and not even married yet- but none of that seemed to deter her.

"If not now, when can I expect some grand-babies, hm? I'm not getting any younger and neither are you."

"How about we focus on getting engaged and married first, then we can start talking kids."

She accepted the answer, albeit reluctantly, and backed off a bit. Later that night Katsuki had cornered you, asking how you had finally managed to get his mother off his back.

"I told we'd have to get married first."

The memory is foggy after so many years, but it's there. It was a passing conversation, an unimportant day, but it's the only time either of you had mentioned a 'when' regarding kids.

"You know, when I said we'd have to get married first, I didn't mean we'd start the same day."

He scowls and closes in on you further. He adjusts his position so you're pushed against the bathroom counter and you're suddenly very aware of just how little clothing you're both wearing. His hands land on your thighs and slowly make their way up. He grips your waist and lifts you onto the cool marble so he can stand between your legs.

"I think I've waited long enough."

Let's just say you end up with two very bold, very pink lines on the pregnancy test a few weeks after you return home.

[agirlandherkinks]

Hypnovisor: Beta Test (TGTF, Hypno)

James had always been a tech super-fan. The newest phone, newest headphones, shiniest laptop, he had to stay abreast of and on top of the current trends. So when he read about some fancy new VR company that wanted beta testers for a headset, provided for free (minus shipping), his vision blurred and he signed up before he even considered finishing reading the ad.

Three weeks of anticipation and waiting passed until his doorbell finally rung, accompanied by the corresponding buzz of an email notification on his phone. Scrambling from his couch he flung the apartment door open, and to his mild surprise saw that the postman was nowhere in site. There was just a nondescript cardboard box labelled "Fragile", which fortunately bore none of the expected dents and scratches one would associate with the postal service and delicate freight. Practically bouncing with undignified delight, James scooped his parcel up and dashed back inside, barely remembering to lock the door behind him.

The headset looked even better than he had imagined. Sleek plastic curves surrounded a central visor that was just translucent enough to see through, meaning you could walk around safely if you turned a program's opacity down. It fit beautifully when he tried it on, more comfortable than anything he'd ever worn. Wearing it felt wonderful and... right, somehow. His only complaint was that the black headset was decorated in hot pink highlights, although it still looked futuristic enough to sooth his fragile masculinity. His roommate and best friend Erik certainly agreed, interspersing James' insightful comments with appropriate "Ooh's" and "Aah's". Waiting for the battery to charge seemed to take a thousand years, although chatting with each other about what it could do replaced their boredom with swiftly growing excitement.

Two hours later, a soft buzz from the headset in the corner signified its charge was complete. Erik cheered, his sandy-blonde hair bouncing behind him, and even James couldn't suppress a soft whoop of excitement. Erik unplugged it and handed it to James with a flourish and a bow, who accepted it with a suitable stuffy speech. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he was so giddy with anticipation he felt he could match Erik's goofiness for once. The advertisement had promised unmatched realism, a luxurious fit, and cutting-edge, groundbreaking technology. Normally James would have discounted claims like that as corporate claptrap, but the headset fit so well he actually believed the rest of it.

Booting up the headset brought a perky, relaxing jingle in his ears and wall of settings text in his vision. He would have read it, but between his own excitement and Erik's infectious enthusiasm he left the settings on default and skipped to the main menu. The feedback for the buttons was amazing, it felt just like he was pressing down on them whenever he touched one! Another little jingle sounded as he confirmed his choices, and a few games and applications bubbled up into his view, imposed over a hot pink background.

"So Erik, what do you think I should try," James asked. "We've got a music player, interior design app, some sorta idle monster game, and a few RPG's." "Surely try out the RPG's man! You've gotta see that high-definition you were yammering about when we called." Erik's voice came back surprisingly muffled, as if he was speaking down a long tunnel. "Bro, I can barely hear you, the noise-cancelling on this headset's insane! It's like I'm in a world of my own!" James took a deep breath, recovering a little of his composure. "Alright, an RPG it is. Fantasy, sci-fi, or modern day?" "Go fantasy! You know we've both got a thing for elf chiiiicks. Hell, with the kind of feedback you were telling me about, you might even get to grab her" Erik's distant voice sounded playful, with a ting of desire and jealousy. And it did make James hard, at the thought of getting to look and squeeze and fondle some busty elf bitch, made entirely to his wishes~

To James' horror a quiet moan escaped his lips, accompanied by faint hysterical laughter from his friend. Brushing it off angrily, he slammed the icon for 'Silverflame: A Magical Journey' (the button felt like thick moss to his touch). Instantly a soft flute begun to play in his ears, accompanied by the gentle lull of a harp and a quiet sparkling. James felt himself relax, all the tension draining out of his body. Erik must have noticed too, because James heard his laughter die down to be replaced with a slightly concerned silence. "Don't worry man," James said, "music's just really pretty..." He trailed off with a slight giggle, but heard Erik give an affirmative just before a silky, sultry voice started to speak.

"Welcome traveler, to the beautiful world of Silverflame. An untamed paradise where strange beasts roam the land, noble adventurers go forth in search of treasure, and the most wonderful magic [James shuddered] is woven. You are the latest brave, beautiful heroine [Heroine? Shouldn't I get to choose my character's gender first?] to step foot into this land. But first, tell us a bit about who you really are."

Pink sparkles rained across the screen, superimposing his view of a vibrant meadow with a series of stats. Physique, IQ, Wisdom, and Charisma, fairly standard stuff. And next to it, a human man with a blank, slightly happy expression on his face [...did he look familiar?]. James gasped, he looked just like a real person! Erik was suitably impressed by this information, and urged him to pick some stats so he can get to the body modification. "You can always change them later man, might as well pick a couple of stats now and get a move on. Sounds like you're not gonna get to pick your gender for a while, which kinda sucks. Buuut if we're being horny about this, you might as well go for a slut scaffold so you make less changes later." James chuckled at this, remembering the build they discussed one night while both sloshed beyond belief. For this game it would be high Physique and Charisma, low IQ and Wisdom. James touched the slider for Physique, and gasped as he felt himself feel... better than he had in a long time.

Not trusting his senses any more, and worrying about Erik being exposed to whatever was happening from the other side of the headset, James brushed off his concerned questions (which he could barely hear now, past the soothing, soothing, music) and suggested he went to the toilet, since he'd been holding it in since he got here. Erik grumbled at missing out, but mercifully left. James was actively sweating from what just went through his body, but couldn't muster the energy or concentration to feel the level of panic he knew he should be. The music was just so, so calming, that fear was harder to feel than usual. The prompt told him he still had to change two more stats, so he decided to turn down Wisdom. He gasped again and his vision went blurry, and when it cleared he felt a bit, fuzzier? In the head. But it wasn't too bad, in fact it was perfectly manageable. He felt even calmer now, so maybe changing another stats would make him feel better. Why not IQ? He tapped the slider.

He groaned as an immense pressure wrapped around his brain. Thoughts, aspirations, memories felt like they were melting from his head faster than they appeared. The pressure seemed like it lasted forever, but eventually it trailed off and he was left panting in his chair. It had felt, really good? Like, tots good, even. James giggled to himself. Something was different about him, but he couldn't think what. Oh well, it'll probably come to him later. He squealed in delight as he realized he could get a step closer to the body modification page, although he looked longingly at the IQ slider. He could come back to it later, for now it was time to make his super-hot elf slut a body!

James clapped to himself with delight as a cute little melody played, a shower of sparkles spiraled [spiraled...] across the screen, and the man on the side moved to the center of the screen. "Firstly", the sultry voice said, "choose what race you want to be." That was an easy choice. He clicked on the 'Elf' button, and shivered as he felt tingles run through his body, intensifying in his ears. Reaching up to touch them, he inhaled as he felt long, pointed tips. In fact, his whole body seemed a bit slimmer. This doesn't quite feel right... he thought. Oh I know! It must be making me an elf too! Maybe we'll be in a party together! Between the strange fuzziness and the pulsating heat in his groin, James quickly flicked to the next page and made his choices. Long, silver hair, gorgeous big purple eyes, and some giant perky lips. "Combination unlocked!" the narrator exclaimed, "+1 Charisma, -1 Wisdom!" James giggled again as the mental fog settled a little tighter around his brain and naughty thoughts about cute girls and boys filled his brain. Boys? Well I guess I've never minded swinging both ways... This felt natural to him, because of course he'd always been bisexual. Next screen!

"Choose your voice young heroine," the woman commanded. James felt a little strange, like her voice was echoing around his head. And why were the sparkles still there, spinning and spinning around the screen. He felt confused, but knew he had to obey that voice. He picked the sexiest combination for his own voice; high pitched, breathy, perky. "Combination unlocked! +1 Charisma, -1 Int." He moaned as that wonderful pressure wrapped his brain and his weekend plans changed to eyeing hunks at the beach. Girls were cool and all, but men had always been more interesting to him [and their pulsing, hard...].

"Now heroine, can you tell me: Are you a girl, or a boy?" The question sent shock waves through his brain. He was a he... right? Why did it feel like there was some longing, some need to acknowledge the woman in him... her? The fog, the music, the spirals, all the feelings he had been having, James could hardly think. Maybe he should think less. Being a girl sounded fun, it's just a character after all. And he needed to be sexy. "Wonderful choice young lady! Now, are you a dominatrix, a super-switch, or a bimbo slut?" Bimbo slut~ James giggled as the words echoed in her brain. She was a bit of a slut, now that she thought about it. It felt odd to pick it, but why not for funsies? "Bimbo slut selected! Wonderful choice, just wonderful. Hold still while your stats are adjusted, and then we'll begin on giving you the perfect, sexy body you've always wanted."

The spirals filled her view and began increasing in speed. James was taken aback at first, but quickly felt oddly calm and receptive to that sultry voice.

"Physique +1, Physique +1, Physique +1." James felt wonderful, like every ache and blemish in his body had faded away.

"Wisdom -1, Wisdom -1." Thinking was fuzzy, but Jamella felt so content she didn't care.

"Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1. Charisma +1." Jamella gasped as visions of sexy men, pecs and abs and juicy, throbbing cocks filled her mind. A desperate heat filled her, and she began touching her groin against her will to try and ease it.

"IQ -1." She moaned, feeling light.

"IQ-1." Empty. She was so, wonderfully empty.

"IQ -1." This was like, so much funsies! She didn't know what was going on, but everything felt so nice~

"IQ -1. Congratulations Ella, you now have the 'Bimbo Slut' build."

Ella giggled absently. Thinking was like, so hard, and she felt like, so hard~. The fun spirals had disappeared... But the nice lady was talking to her again! With great effort, she listened in. "Now that your mental changes are complete, it's time for the physical changes!" Ella rubbed her thighs together and cheered in excitement. She couldn't wait to have more fun! "Unless you choose so now, the process will be au-to-ma-tic [...why was she using such big words?]. You can choose to take over at any time, or wait until the end and adjust as you please [...please. That word felt funny in her brain]".

"No user input detected. Body adjustment commencing."

A nice shiver went through Ella's body as she felt her headset warm against her face. Looking at the boring young man she'd begun to customize (her reflection, of course), she couldn't wait to begin! She sighed happily as waves of pretty silver hair drifted into her view and cascaded down her back. It felt especially nice against her smooth, soft skin, and she couldn't help but gently shake her head to watch it sway. A cool feeling brought her attention to her face, and the alluring amethyst eyes now set in it. Her face itself became much more elegant [but cutesy, too!], and she puckered her lips as a lovely pressure made them swell and bulge out, giving her a sexy and kissable pout [the boys'll love this look! boys~]. She felt herself shrink a few centimeters, gulping as her Adam's apple disappeared into her body. In fact, her whole body had become even more slender, with narrow shoulders, adorably small hands [pretty purple nails!], and a tiny little waist. She gasped, then clasped her hands over her mouth in delight. Her voice was so high and cutesy! She couldn't stop herself from giving out tiny, high-pitched giggles, just to hear how cute she was!

"Basic body structure altered. Adjusting outfit in preparation for primary and secondary sexual characteristics."

Ella ooh'ed appreciatively as a stream of sparkles enveloped her body. And when they disappeared, she squealed in delight! Her drab t-shirt and denim shorts were gone! In their place was a beautiful silver mini-dress that shimmered like starlight when she moved. She frowned in vexation, though. The plunging chest and shoulder-less design was very pretty, but her chest was flat! [shouldn't I have tiddies? The boys won't like me like this...] And the way it clung to her waist and hips would have been sexy, but as it was there was barely any difference between them! Her ass wasn't nearly big enough to justify how the dress cut off barely past it, and with how tight the fabric was Ella could see how achingly hard she was [wait, why do I have a cock? I'm supposed to get cock! In my mouth, in my ass, in my tight little pussy~]. It wasn't right!

"Thank you for your patience sweetie. Optimal figure calculated. Prepare for adjustment of sexual characteristics."

Ella let out a moan as a wave of heat and pleasure washed over her. With how horny she was she could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew she wanted to watch herself become the sexy little [cum] slut she was meant to be [I want it... I want to be~]. The heat settled in her hips, her ass, and her chest, and she moaned again as the changes begun.

Her nipples grew first, more than doubling in size and stiffening through the soft fabric of her dress. Tentatively touching them induced a gasp of pleasure [so nice~] and sent her rocking backwards. The motion made her giggle, because in that time she'd grown a cute pair of B-cup breasts that jiggled when she rocked. Jiggle makes me giggle. I like giggling. I like jiggling. Ella nodded thoughtfully to herself, feeling very wise. Her boobies grew to C-cups. She jiggled some more. She giggled some more.

A tightness around her hips distracted Ella from her tiddies. They were growing! She groaned as fabric and flesh tightened around them, too euphoric to feel pain. Sliding her hands from her waist to her hips made her squeal happily. She had such a sexy hourglass figure, she knew any girl worth her money would be jealous [and the boys would wanna hold me and squeeze me and fuck me raw]. Thighs thickening dramatically in response to her growth, she slapped her ass in impatience. Why won't it get bigger already!

But get bigger it did, swelling out in response to her touch. She fell forward as sheer pleasure blanketed her mind and weakened her knees. Squishing her boobies against the ground made her feel even nicer, until she was panting and moaning for somebody to help, to hit her again and make her bigger~

A slap landed on her booty, and she groaned in delight as it and her thighs swelled again. More. More! I NEED MORE! She moaned in ecstasy as blow after blow landed, making her swell and grow and grow and swell and feel so gooooood! Her tits inflated to D, then E-cups [good for the boys. I can jiggle so well for them~]. Her hips widened and thighs thickened, until she looked ridiculously large compared to her waist [ridicu... ridic... really, really sexy...] And her ass kept growing, and growing, and growing and growing and growing and growing! Tighter! Around my cock! Cock... I... oh~ Too... too... much! Too much! I'm~ I'm!

OooOOoOoOOooOoOoooOOOOOHHH~

Ella screamed in delight as she came, just cumming and cumming and cumming her tiny little brain out.

"Wisdom -1. IQ -1. Charisma +1. Charisma +1."

She was desperate, humping against the ground as the flow of cum abated from her cock. Everything she had been was flowing out of her messy stupid brain, and everything that she should be was coming in. Boys... Cock... Need fuck... Breed~ I'm such a dumb little cum slut~ She giggled to herself.

"Final adjustment required."

Ella stood up shakily, the bottom of her dress a cum-soaked mess. She squealed with delight as the mental fog settled even tighter and she felt an intense heat in her groin. She could see the tops of nipples trying to break free from her dress, and could feel the air drift over her ass, which had mostly escaped the fabric in her growth. So sexy. Hehe~ Boy can take me~ Don't even need dress off~ Thinking hard... Her ass and hips had pulled up so much fabric that her cock was visible now, deflating and still leaking from her orgasm, but she gasped in pleasure as it began rising up again. And, as she felt something long and hard brush her booty [cock? Boys? Fuck?].

A pressure like hands on her shoulders forced her to her knees, and she whimpered in desire as she felt an unseen cock touch her cheek. At the same time, something began intensely stimulating her own. She reflexively opened her mouth in a moan, but was cut off as she felt the cock shove inside [Feels~ Feels!].

All thought stopped.

Her mind was blank, full of pleasure and desire and happiness. Her cock felt good like it never had before, and the dick in her mouth tasted wonderful~ This was what Ella was made for, what she was meant to be. Feeling good, feeling sexy, feeling a pleasant emptiness that could only be filled with cock. Her haze reached a crescendo. Dimly she was aware of her own cries of ecstasy, muffled by the cock fucking her mouth and mind, as she came harder than she even had before. And as she came, her dick shrunk with each spurt until it went inside her [inside me!]. The cock withdrew from her mouth, filling her with a desperate longing. Emma moaned for her unseen hero, then gasped as she felt him once more. And blinked in surprise as the pretty meadow and her sexy reflection disappeared.

She was kneeling on the floor of an unfamiliar room. Shaking off a little of her confusion [don't need know much anyways...], she gasped as the tell-tale smell of pre-cum filled her nose. There was a man standing in front of her!

Sandy-blonde hair. Body like a surfer hunk! Naked. With a massive, sexy cock, dripping with her saliva and it's own juices. Ella moaned in desire, falling on all fours. Visibly trembling with lust, he tenderly cupped her cheek and slowly moved behind her.

Touching her with his [cock!].

Ever so gently, on the edge of her [...pussy!!!!]

He rammed inside her, and she screamed as an absolute feeling of rightness, of sexiness and pleasure and single-minded happiness rushed through her [MORE! HARDER! COCKKKK~]. Riding his dick she felt herself go into a trance, with nothing, absolutely nothing, disturbing her feelings. Ever. This was right. Ella moaned and surrendered to herself, drifting away on her lover's cock and mindless pleasure.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 19] Moving Out

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“That’s all, I think.” Toji says as he loads up the last box into the moving truck. The day has finally come, Toji is finally moving out. You’ve been dreading this moment more than anything. You really can’t do anything about it, either way.

You’re still in a relationship with Toji, and you’re happy with him, you shouldn’t be upset. He’s just moving away, and he promises that he’ll see you as much as possible until you finally get married and move in together. That’s what he says at least, and of course you choose to believe it.

“Are you staying with us for the weekend? You know we’d love to have you.” Toji asks, watching as you awkwardly stand by his car. You agreed that you’d drive his car to his new house while he drives the moving truck that he rented for the day. 

“I didn’t pack anything, so–” You begin to answer, but that’s not a good enough excuse for Toji. He doesn’t care how long he has to wait, he’ll wait for you. 

“So, you have to go upstairs to get some stuff for the weekend. Megumi and I will wait for you, isn’t that right, bud?” Toji looks down at his little one, and Megumi nods in response. Megumi will do just about anything to have you by his side, it’s no surprise. You smile at your boys before turning on your heel to go upstairs. 

You’re only staying for a night so you shouldn’t really go overboard with packing but you still do. You could last a week in Toji’s house with clean clothes, and you take your sweet time packing as well– Toji grows impatient, and he shows his annoyance when you go back outside. 

“Did you go to the store too or something? Why the hell did it take so long?” Toji’s clear annoyance makes you laugh. 

“I thought you wanted me to accompany you? Does waiting a couple of minutes make you change your mind?” You respond, and Toji rolls his eyes. Megumi runs to your side, and you take his hand. “Let’s go, baby. This old man is getting annoying.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll see you two later.” Toji says, walking to the truck. You chuckle as you lead Megumi to his father’s car. You get the little boy into his booster seat (although he claims that he’s old enough to sit in the front with you), and you begin your drive to Toji’s new home. You have no idea why or how Toji trusts you enough to drive to his new house with his son nonetheless; he gave you a couple of driving lessons over the past couple of months, and during a very lucky day, you got your license. You’re still not the best driver although Toji claims that you’re a good one.

“Are you excited to live in your new home, Megumi?” You ask, your eyes going to the rearview mirror to look back at Megumi. He’s looking out the window, watching as the familiar passage turns unknown.

“Will you be with me?” He replies, and you chew on your cheek, wondering how you’ll answer that. Yes… But no. Not in the way that you are now. You won’t see Megumi everyday anymore and you won’t be next door to him so he can run to you whenever he needs something. But you’ll still be one call away, and you’ll find the fastest route to get to him whenever he needs you. And Toji too.

“I will be, Megumi. I just won’t be a door away.” You answer, and that’s good enough for Megumi since he stopped listening after you assured him that you will be with him. You’re still seeing him on weekdays since Toji is still leaving him at daycare with you. Things are changing, but it’s not a drastic change. The only main difference is that Toji won’t be next door. You’re still upset about the changes though.

“Can we listen to music?” Megumi asks, and you hum in response before turning on the radio. 

Toji’s new home needs some renovations, at least that’s what you notice at first glance. But it has potentia, and without noting the defects of the exterior, it’s a beautiful home. When you get to the front, Toji is already unloading his boxes and putting them in the garage. 

“Where are we?” Megumi asks, his little eyes staring at his new home.

“This is your new home, Megumi.” You inform him as you turn off the car. He tilts his little head, his hands and face pressing against the car window. He fogs up the window as he breathes on it, and you notice it when you get out of the car and open the door for him. You get him out of the car, and ask him, “Do you like it?”

“It’s big.” Is all that he really notices about the home. Toji told you that the house also has a big backyard, and you know Megumi is going to be over the moon when he notices that it’s part of his home.

“You two are so slow!” Toji yells when he finally notices you and Megumi. You can’t help but laugh as you grab Megumi’s hand and walk to the garage to join Toji. Toji crosses his arms when you’re next to him, and he clicks his tongue before shaking his head in disappointment, “I’ve been waiting here for a while.”

“But were you really?” You respond and Toji lets out a chuckle, which is your answer. He just got here as well. Toji picks up Megumi from the floor, kissing his forehead before asking,

“You want a tour of your new home, buddy?” And Megumi nods in response. Toji holds Megumi with one arm, while his free hand goes to your own, intertwining your fingers together before Toji drags you inside. Megumi has an option to decline, you don’t. Your first stop is the kitchen, and it’s extremely nice– You expected the rest of the home to be like the exterior, but at first glance, the interior is almost perfect. It’s rather colorful, with sage green cabinets and white oak floors. Toji then says, “I’ve been working on the inside myself… And with some help.”

“I love it.” You tell him, which brings a smile to his lips. He seeks for your approval more than anything, so hearing that you like the place overfills him with joy. 

Toji drags you around, showing you the living room, the dining room, his bedroom, and Megumi’s bedroom which he painted Megumi’s favorite color (which Megumi still doesn’t comprehend it’s his room). Everything is bare for the moment, but you know that they’ll make it their perfect home in a matter of days. Megumi notices the big backyard from the view that the sliding glass door gives him. He runs to the door, dirtying it with his hands as he looks outside.

“Can I play there?” Megumi asks, and Toji has the biggest smile on his face because he can say yes. Megumi can do absolutely anything he wants. Well obviously not anything he wants because Toji will enforce rules, but if Toji didn’t want to enforce those rules, Megumi is free to do whatever.

“Yeah, you can.” Toji answers, opening the door to let Megumi outside. There isn’t much that Megumi can do to help, so it’s best to just let him outside to help. Toji looks at the dirty glass door, clicking his tongue, “That little rascal is already getting the house dirty.”

“He’s just really excited, Toji. You know how he is.” You tell Toji, wrapping your arms around his waist, nestling into his embrace. Toji kisses the top of your head, hugging you back with so much adoration.  If it weren’t so soon in your relationship, he would ask you to move in with him.

“His excitement better not ruin my new house.” Toji says, and you chuckle. You look up at him with a smile before you press your soft lips against his. Toji feels his cheeks get hot– And fuck, he hates it but he also loves it… He’s just embarrassed that he would fold so easily for you. Toji licks his lips before clearing his throat and telling you, “There’s one room that you have yet to see.”

“Is there?” You respond, knowing damn well that you’ve been staring at the door that’s right next to Megumi’s room. You know it isn’t the bathroom since Toji gave you a thorough tour of the house. Toji grabs your hand and leads you to the final room, and you’re not exactly impressed when he opens it. Just another empty room. It’s similar to Megumi’s room, but it lacks color. You raise your brow before asking, “A guest room?”

“What do you think about a nursery?” He replies which makes your eyes go wide. You then furrow your eyebrows in confusion. 

“A nursery?” You ask, and he nods in confirmation. A lot of questions run through your mind but the first words that leave your lips are, “I thought you didn’t want more kids.”

“I’ve thought about it and… The idea of having a baby with you makes me happy– Whether it’s our own or adopted or whatever. Just another member of the family… Plus, Megumi wouldn’t mind having someone to play with.” Toji tells you, and a foolish smile comes to your lips. Yeah… Toji and Megumi are your family now. And you’re so happy with that. You clear your throat before saying,

“Let’s go. You have a lot of boxes to unload.”

Toji doesn’t have a lot of furniture, which is how you find yourself sitting on the floor, watching a movie that Megumi picked up. Toji doesn’t have the money to get all necessary furniture right away since he’s saving up for other stuff that’s more important than a couch. Either way, Megumi doesn’t mind sitting on the floor in his pajamas to watch a movie, and neither do you. 

You lay your head on Toji’s lap, your eyes feeling heavy as you watch the kids’ movie. Toji caresses your arm, focusing on the movie which he has taken a liking to. If it was up to him, he’d throw a few curses here and there but it’s not a bad movie– At least not compared to other stuff that Megumi has put on the TV. 

“You like the movie?” Toji asks, looking down at you. You’re almost falling asleep, and it makes him chuckle. It’s not even late, you’re just so tired after helping them out (even though Toji doesn’t think that you did all that much anyway). 

“Yeah… It’s good.” Your words come out slurred as your eyes shut on their own. Within minutes, you’re asleep on his lap. He looks at his son, and he’s surprised that Megumi is still wide awake, though maybe he shouldn’t be so shocked because they’re watching a movie that Megumi picked.

“Are you almost ready to go to bed, Megumi? I’m getting tired.” Toji fakes out a yawn since he’s not really tired, but he just wants to put you to bed and lay down with you. Of course Megumi knows that it isn’t his bedtime yet, so he shakes his head in response. One thing about Megumi is that he’ll refuse to go to bed until his bedtime, even when he’s halfway asleep. 

“I’m not tired. It’s early.” Megumi responds, which makes Toji roll his eyes. It feels like Toji can’t assert authority without being mean to his son, which is not something that he wants to do but it’s the only way Megumi listens. But Toji has learned of the great art of bribery, and maybe it isn’t the best way to raise his son but sometimes he needs to make his life easier.

“If you go to bed now, I’ll let you have ice cream for breakfast.” Toji says, and Megumi takes a long second to think about it. That’s a tempting offer, but is he willing to turn off his movie for it? “You can finish it tomorrow morning, c’mon, let’s go to bed. Your old man is tired.”

“Fine. But you better add sprinkles!” Megumi finally agrees, and Toji will take as much as he can get. He does have to wake up earlier than Megumi to go to the store and get the ice cream and sprinkles, but he’ll get it. Toji takes the remote and turns off the screen, and Megumi pouts as he stands up. 

Megumi begins to walk to Toji’s room, and Toji doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they’ll be sleeping in different rooms from now on. Well, it’s not necessary for them to separate so early. Toji doesn’t need a lot of privacy anyway, plus he loves sleeping with his baby boy. Not that he’d ever admit that, he’d just accuse Megumi of being a scaredy cat and having nightmares.

Toji picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, though you’re lightly sleeping so you’re awakened by him. He’s looking down at you, watching you open your eyes. He smiles at you– Fuck, his smile is awful but you love it. You could watch him smile all day long.

“Go back to sleep.” He tells you as he puts you down on his futon. You keep your eyes on him, for some reason not being able to look away. He’s about to walk away to get you a blanket, but your hand wraps around his ankle to stop him from walking away.

“Toji…” You begin and he looks at you with pure confusion. You really didn’t want to be the first one to say it, but you’re half-asleep, realizing how lucky you are to have him with you. Toji is the ideal man for you. “I love you, Toji.”

His eyes widen, completely shocked at your confession. It takes a minute for it to process in his mind before he kneels down beside you and begins to kiss your face. Megumi, who watches everything, has to stop his father before he kills you with all the kisses. Toji grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze before responding, “I love you too. So so much.”

It’s a simple confession, yet his heart is overfilled with joy. He never expected to hear it again from a woman, much less from a woman he loves so dearly. 

“What about me?” Megumi cries, somewhat interrupting the sweet moment, but he makes it sweeter. Toji shifts his attention to his son and attempts to hug him, but Megumi pushes him away. Megumi wasn’t talking to Toji.

“Come here, Megumi. Lay down next to me.” You pat the space next to you, and Megumi lays down beside you, allowing you to hug him. You kiss the top of his head. “I love you, my little gumi bear.”

“I love you too.” Megumi answers. You stare at the back of his head before looking at Toji, a smile on your face when you realize that he just kneels beside you in awe.

His family feels complete again.

Somewhat.

[kurishiri]

Excerpt (and some summary) of Jude’s main story chapter 1

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ any pretty translation you may see in here may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. this is a sort of summary as well. if you enjoy, though, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

ok so like the chapter starts off with jude and ellis beatin some dudes ahh bc breach of contract. ig thats sorta like the prologue so to speak.

since jude is an act 2 route, vogel is featured in here. darius is like “hmm jude jazza huh. p interesting. nica” and nica comes in like “yeah you want me to look into him? sure, im interested in him too (/p likely)”

its revealed that since her time as fairytale keeper, kate had accompanied basically everyone on a mission? except jude and ellis. ellis wants to accompany her tbf but judes like tf hell no.

needless to say, kate has…less than positive first impressions of jude.

but she finally sees some light when harry gives her a memo telling her to go to the pub at 22:00 bc there’s gonna be a mission with jude and ellis. but turns out by the time she gets there, the missions already done and rogers there at the pub lmao

kate goes to jude whos smokin in the back like “you lied to me :(“ and jude kinda doesnt get all that fazed abt it like “never told ya the mission would start at 22:00.” he reveals that basically he hates it when its all like the “lets all get along” sorta gist yk.

then they have like this back and forth thats smth like “no point in being liked bc i got no gain from that.” “does that mean youre ok with being hated?” “what, do ya wanna be liked by everyone?” you get the point. they just do not. see eye to eye. like at all.

and so, we come to this point where kate makes a promise with him like “i’ll find smth i like abt you by the time my tenure as fairytale keeper ends!” (this is around where the first cg is, which btw is called the first promise we made was wrapped in white smoke)

Jude: Hah, alright then. if ya goin’ that far then do what ya want.

After our back and forth, like walking on eggshells, i finally succeeded in getting him to say those words.

Kate: Okay! Then I’ll do just that.

I used my hand to wave off the smoke that seemed to separate us two and took a step toward him, when…

Jude, while veiled in the white smoke, laughed with scorn.

Jude: But there’s one thing ya should keep in mind, princess. …My promises don’t come cheap.

J: If ya break ‘em, I’ll make ya go through so much o’ hell you’ll be wishin’ for death.

Amid the refined scent of sandalwood, far removed from his image, and the sweet scent of tobacco that burned my chest,

Jude and I made our first promise.

other impt events? is that jude literally comes out with a contract after victors like “i heard youre gonna be judes exclusive fairytale keeper!” and kates like what. but kate signs the contract in the end.

another thing; kate thinks “theres no way i could ever like him” 📸

ko-fi☕️ ┊ comms🤍

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 23

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: what up my slutty butties!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You help Leslie bring out the plates. You set one before Mr. Laufeyson as Leslie puts one down before an empty chair. You can hear your dad muttering at his puzzle. Your boss is unfazed as he smugly sits waiting.

"Offer him something to drink while I get your father," Leslie lowers her voice, turning her back to your guest, "I know you didn't have a mother around but have some common courtesy."

You flinch, injured by her unnecessary remark. Sometimes she says things that sting, just like your father. You suppose that's why they get along so well. She sidesteps you and enters the front room, announcing her presence gaily as she calls your father's name.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you face him sheepishly, "would you like something to drink?"

"I suppose you haven't any cabernet," he snorts. You clamp your lip tightly in humiliation. "I am driving so I suppose it wouldn't matter, you have water, yes? It will suffice."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you answer and spin away, fleeing to the kitchen behind the shield of the simple task.

You take a glass from the cupboard, checking to make sure it's clear and clean, and fill it from the filtered jug in the fridge. You return to the dining room as Leslie helps your father in. He bats her hand off his arm and grunts as he drops into an empty chair across from Mr. Laufeyson. You put the water in front of your boss and peek over at your dad.

"Dad, do you want something--"

"No," he barks as he snatches his fork, poking at the seasoned turnip, "what is this shit?" He sniffs, "smells like garbage."

You sit and balance at the edge of your chair, not paying any mind to the food before you.

"Charlies, don't be rude," Leslie claims a seat of her own, "Loki's mother was so kind to send this over to us."

"I don't know her," your father growls.

"Can't complain for free food, can we?" Leslie girds gently and sends a smile to Laufeyson, "it's been a tough day for him. The humidity really bothers him."

"Would you be quiet?" Your father snaps, "I can speak for myself and I'm just damn fi--"

Your father breaks out into another storm of coughs. He hits the table and braces it, his fork clattering as he struggles to catch his breath. Mr. Laufeyson sits placidly, picking up his knife and fork, and cutting into the pork loin.

"My, you do sound rather terrible," he says as he pokes a morsel of meat in the air on the tines. 

"He'll be fine, he just needs to catch his breath," Leslie assures.

"Mm, have you thought of an air purifier? It might do this place some good?" Laufeyson suggests with a curl of his lip, biting into the pork.

"Mr. Fucking Fancy Pants," your dad slaps his own chest as he finds his voice, "what do you know? You ain't some doctor walking in here telling me how to breathe."

"I have several degrees so I could claim the title, I suppose," Laufeyson taunts, "I always thought it a bit pompous, however."

"Ah, go off and buy another set of tits," your father snarls.

"You are such a loving father, aren't you?" Laufeyson goads.

"Good enough to know yours never smacked you hard enough," your dad retorts.

Silence. You look at Leslie as she peers between the men, a frigid smile frozen on her face. You bat your lashes as you teeter and grip the table.

Your dad takes his fork again and scoops up a soft chunk of turnip. He puts it in his mouth, making a face as he tastes it then gags and spits it out. It flies across the table onto Laufeyson's plate. Your brows rise as Leslie's expression mirrors your shock.

"Tastes like garbage too. That mother of yours must be just as much a disappointment to your father as you," your dad chortles at his own insult, hacking into another fit.

Mr. Laufeyson sets his fork down. He sighs and slides his plate away. He stares down your father as he sets his back straight.

"As much as you are to your daughter, I'm sure."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you squeak.

"Get--" your father coughs and chokes, fighting to get to his feet, his stomach hitting the table and rattling the dishes, "the fuck--" cough -- "out of my house."

"Is that what you call this place?" Laufeyson remains seated, glancing around derisively.

Leslie gasps, "sir, now you are too much, we welcomed you in--"

"I wasn't aware your job included nursing his bruised ego," Laufeyson shoots in her direction, "don't remind me of etiquette. I brought you all more than the scraps you have in the back of that dingy fridge. Of course, you wouldn't have the taste or sense to know good food."

"I said GET OUT!" Your father hollers so hard he sways, his voice scratching at its peak.

"Dad," you stand up, "Mr. Laufeyson, please, you need to go--"

"Take your own advice," he stands and scoffs in your father's direction.

"Stop, please, he's my dad--"

"Oh yes, I've heard it before," Laufeyson sneers, "and I heard you beg him just the same before he--"

"No!" You exclaim, "no, leave. Now. Please--"

"You needn't convince me further," Mr. Laufeyson strides around the table, "Chuck," he stops next to your father as he puffs, grasping the chair for support, "try not to choke on your own vitriol."

He pats your dad arm, causing him to recoil and fall onto the chair. Leslie rushes over to him as you stand dumbfounded. You hoped the day wouldn't get worse and yet, you can't say you didn't expect it. Even so, it hits you like a car at full speed and knocks the wind out of you. You don't know what to do.

"Have a good night," Mr. Laufeyson says at the door, "however pleasant it could ever be in a rat-infested hole like this." He looks at you, "thank you for this lovely dinner."

He turns and struts out. You shake your head as adrenaline courses through you, burning around your lungs and hammering in your chest. You look over at your father as he continues to cough violently.

"Dad..." you try to go to him.

"Haven't you done enough?" Leslie snaps as she lashes you with a glare. You wince and stumble back.

"I didn't--"

"He's right about you, isn't he?" She snarls, "you're just an ungrateful brat."

"No--"

"Go!" Your father forces through his choking gasp, "you little bitch!"

Your lip trembles as the room spins. You twirl away without a second thought, horrified and humiliated. You run out into the hallway and barrel up the stairs, sobbing by the time you get to the top step. Mr. Laufeyson has ruined everything. Your job, your family, and your entire life.

You thought you had nothing before, how wrong you were.

✨

 You cry yourself to sleep, just like many nights before. Your head swirls with rippled visions of angry eyes and shadowy figures. You drown in the thick unconscious, nearly suffocated with terror as you're paralysed against the virulent nightmares.

You wake only as a crash splinters your sleep. You sit up, heaving for air as you see a dark figure eerily similar to the one in your dreams. You blink until you can, the light of the hallway glowing in the limn your father's portly figure.

He drags out the next drawer from your dresser and dumps it over the pile mounded on the floor. He staggers as he drops the plywood and kicks it aside. He leans on the handle of his oxygen tank as you reach for your lamp.

"Dad? What are you--"

He struggles to reach for the bottle by his feet. He lifts it and wobbles as he untwists the cap. He overturns the bottle of bleach onto the heap of clothes, kicking them around as the stringent chemical spills out. You watch as he ruins the layers of new clothing and cry out as you bounce to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing!?" You shriek.

"Whore's clothes," he tosses the bottle on top, "you... bring your pimp in here like the slut you are--"

"Dad," you whimper but have no words. He's not so far off after all. You look down at the clothes and the pale stains of the bleach patching across the fabric, "dad, I'm sorry. I tried-- I was only--"

"I don't care," he grits, "I'm done with you. You been..." he takes a deep breath, clasping his chest, "mooching off me for thirty years. You sucked the life outta me--" he gasps again, "look what you done to me," he tugs at the tube that trails down his chest, "this is your fault. You killed me just like you did your mother."

"No, no, no," you touch your cheeks as they burns and your tears fall free, "please, don't say that."

It's another nightmare. It has to be. You're still sleeping. This can't be real.

"Dad," you stand and reach for him, "don't be mad--"

He hits you. Not hard, he can't. He's too weak. You flinch and back away, cowering as you cradle your head. He looks around, his head bobbling and grabs the hardcover book from atop your dresser.

He nears you as you shrink down, stunned into helplessnness. He grips the book with both hands and swings it at you. The first strikes doesn't wake you. It's real. 

He hits you, over and over, the sharp corner jabbing into your cheek and chin, then the side thumping across your shoulder and against your side. He keeps on until he can't.

He drops the book and coughs, bending over as he slips to one knee. You watch him, tears streaming into your hands as you babble like a child. 

"Daddy," you murmur.

"You get out or I'll call... the goddamn... police," he braces the oxygen tank and forces himself up. "This isn't your home no more." He limps and drags the tank to the door, "it never was.”

✨

You don't know what to do. You can barely stop crying long enough to think. The heavy bags weigh down your steps as you wander mindlessly to the corner and stop, the reality of the moment crashing down like thunder.

You drop the duffle bag and sit on it, letting your work bag hit the pavement by your feet. The sun has barely come up as you sit in the dim hue of dawn. Where do you go?

You feel yourself sinking. Your lungs are reading to shrivel and your head is going to cave in. You're lost. You have no home, you have no father, you have nothing... well, you still have a job.

You cry a little longer, until you hear the first sign of life from across the street. You get up as a man comes of a house. He doesn't notice you as you hitch up your work bag and grab the duffle from the sidewalk. You just need somewhere for a night or two. Let dad cool off and you'll apologise. It will be okay.

You walk down to the main road and catch the first bus. You have no direction, no destination. You get off as you see the marquee of the Holiday Inn. You've never stayed in a hotel, hopefully they have room for you. It seems like no one does.

You shuffle inside, tired and worn out. There's a woman behind the front desk, sitting on a chair so you can only see the top of your head. You hobble over under the weigh of your bags and wait for her to notice you. When she doesn't, you tap the bell on the counter.

"Eh?" She stands up, almost tipping over, "sorry," she yawns, "didn't hear you come in."

"Mm," you hum and chew your lips, "that's okay. Erm..."

"Do you have a reservation? Bit early... or late, to be checking in."

"No, uh, I don't," you lower your eyes, "do you have anything available?"

"Sure we do," she answers chipperly. You look at her name tag; Mindy. "I got a few singles clean and ready."

"Okay, that's good," you answer, "how much?"

"Hundred and twenty for tonight. Credit on file or three hundred cash deposit."

"Oh," you try not show your surprise, "okay, I er, think I have enough but I don't have a credit card."

"Now worries, there's an ATM," she points across the lobby.

"Thank, can I leave my bags here for a second?"

"Sure, sweetie," she turns to the computer and clicks around.

You cross to the machine and dig out your debit card. You slide it into the slot and push the firm metal buttons. Your stomach plummets as you punch in the custom amount for withdrawal. You were saving that for the mortgage and Leslie. You hit Yes and the machine whirs, spitting out a stack of bills and a receipt.

You return to the counter and hand it over. Mindy asks for your name and phone number. You give her your info, growing more weary by the moment.

"Here are your keys," she hands over a tiny paper folio, "checkout is 11am tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Wifi info is in there, along with information about breakfast. Coffee in the room and a kettle. Oh, and microwave."

You thank her one last time and collect your bags once more. You go to the elevator and check the folio for your room number. You hit floor six and wait for the box to rise. You step off, following the wall plaques to the matching door. It's yours, just for a little bit.

You swipe the card several times before it unlocks, struggling to make it register. You push your duffle inside with your feet and put your work bag beside it as the door shuts on its own. The room is small, the walls are pasted in faded wallpapers and the bed is made with sheets that remind you of another decade.

You put the keys on the table against the wall and drag yourself to the bed. You don't really have any time to nap, you just need to get off your feet for a little.

Your restlessness doesn't let you sit long. You wear some of your old clothes, of the few pieces you salvaged from the ruin. You check yourself in the mirror. You don't bother with the makeup. Mr. Laufeyson will be disappointed either way. Besides, you shouldn't care so much what he thinks. You're just his house manager after all. You're there to do a job.

If only believing it would make it true.

You find a route that goes towards his neighbourhood. It lets you off a few blocks away and you take your time. You almost don't have a choice as your body is achy from your father's attach, new bruises rising tenderly to the surface.

You're early despite the fractured night. As you pass the cafe, you slow and glance through the window. Just one more quiet moment before you face the inevitable.

You push inside and see the same woman as last time. You give the same order as you doubt she even recognises you. She hovers her finger over the touch screen of her till, "we have a special, a rose tea latte, if you're interested."

"Oh?" You scrunch up your lips, you've never been good at saying no. "Sure, I'll try that."

You got the change to pay and frown. You shouldn't be spending what's left on a tea. You should be smarter. Maybe if you were, you wouldn't be such a loser.

You sit and stare at the pink foam. You don't know if you can do this but what other choice do you have? You could just disappear but for how long? You'll run out of money. As hard as it was to get this job, you don't think a new one would be any easier when you have one reference. A reference who you don't expect a shining review from.

You sip carefully. It's delicious. You drop your forehead into your hand as hot tears brim your eyes. You fight to constrain them, nearly quaking with the effort. Your eyes are swollen enough as it is.

You continue to drink, keeping your head down, and finish before you resign yourself to fate. To face Mr. Laufeyson. You can do this, not because you're strong, but because you have to.

[starsfic]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Girlfriend of Ladybug

Summary: During another invasive interview pushing her towards Chat Noir, Ladybug panics and claims that she’s dating someone. Who? Oh, just her civilian identity. Dominos unexpectedly topple.

Ko-Fi

-_-

It was a heat of the moment thing.

Ladybug really couldn’t blame herself. Well, technically she could, considering she had agreed to another hour-long interview with Nadja and Chat Noir. Where, of course, the topic inevitably turned back to the nonexistent romantic relationship between her and her partner, not helped at all by the fact  that Chat kept egging it on and nobody seemed to notice or care about her discomfort. The moment Alya appeared on screen and asked “So when are you going to admit your feelings for each other?”

She snapped.

“I have a girlfriend.”

Dead silence encased the studio. Chat gaped at her, Alya gaped at her, Nadja gaped at her, everyone gaped at her. It was only until a hand reached out of the audience that noise came back in. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, I have to agree,” Nadja said, a flustered blush making her cheeks red. “Excuse me?”

Welp, she had already said it, so might as well. “I have a girlfriend,” she repeated. Chat and Alya continued to gape at her. She took a deep breath in and plastered on a stern look. “Nadja, did you ever think the reason why I don’t confess my feelings for Chat is because I don’t have any?”

Silence encased the studio, but it was the silence where people were muttering to each other. Ladybug waited. Chat continued to gape, but Alya shut her mouth and made an odd squeaky noise.

Nadja finally took a deep breath in. When she opened her eyes, she seemed to be staring at her in a different way. Not as an icon or an idol or a celebrity, but as if Ladybug was a real person. She hadn’t even realized that she hadn’t been looking at her that way. “No,” she said. “I’m…so sorry, Ladybug. I hadn’t considered that.” Ladybug nodded but didn’t say a word. “May I ask who it is?”

Well, crap. She hadn’t expected that. She was tempted to say, “No comment,” but then it would be possible that people would catch on to the fact that she was lying. She needed someone. Ladybug thought for a moment and then prayed Tikki wouldn’t be too mad.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Once again, the room descended into muttering silence. Chat was pulling out his staff with the angriest look she had ever seen on his face. Ladybug couldn’t help but raise a brow at that. But then Alya spoke with a “NO WAY!”

Ladybug raised a brow. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Yes!” Alya said, seeming to not care about the fact that she was being televised live. “She’s in love with Adrien Agreste! He’s her soulmate, I’m sure of it!” Geez, Alya, thanks. Chat’s muttering stopped. “She’s been struggling to confess to him since the attacks first began! He’s-”

“A boy, Miss Cesaire,” Ladybug cut her off, keeping her voice bored. Yes, she did have a crush on Adrien once. But her feelings had faded over time, especially when she thought of how he reacted to Chloe and Lila hurting her. “A boy that is well-known and popular with the female population of Paris. A boy that would be expected if a person asked about a celebrity crush.”

Alya stared at her. She could practically see her put the pieces together. “What about Luka Couffaine? She dated him for…a few months!”

“Her and Luka Couffaine, I have discussed with her,” Ladybug said, keeping her voice calm. Her mind raced- she would definitely need to talk to Luka after this. “I will not pretend to be a good girlfriend, Miss Cesaire. Marinette does not know who I am under the mask- if anyone says that they do, they are lying-” Hopefully, that dealt with Lila. “Our relationship had to be kept secret. I cannot take her out on dates or meet her parents. So, we agreed to an open relationship.”

Nadja cleared her throat. “She does not know who you are?”

Ladybug shook her head. “No. We agreed that, after Hawkmoth is defeated and I can retire, I will reveal myself to her and discuss our relationship from there. I’m only being open with my relationship now since she knows I am uncomfortable with people trying to ship me with Chat Noir-”

“Because they know we’re meant to be!” Chat burst out. Honestly, she was surprised that he hadn’t spoken up sooner. He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her close. “My Lady, think about it! We have so much more in common than some random civilian!” His eyes were dark, sending shivers up her spine. “You’re lying about Marinette, right? There’s no way you could fall for some random person-”

“Hey!” Alya spoke up, her voice bordering on fury. “Marinette’s not just some random nobody!” The camera shook as something slammed, most likely Alya’s fist slamming into the desk. “Marinette is the smartest, most creative person I have ever met! She’s probably the greatest actress of all time, and I would say that she has done so much more for Paris than you ever have on your own!” She took a deep breath. “Ladybug, you have great taste.” And with that, Alya’s camera cut short.

Nadja nodded. “Okay, next question,” she said, her voice still a touch strained from the bombshell that was just dropped on her.

Hopefully, this didn’t blow up.

-_-

It blew up.

Tikki, thankfully, didn’t seem mad. “It was clever,” she said before encouraging Marinette to go to bed.

When Marinette woke up surprisingly early, it was to a ton of messages on her social media and email. By the time she left for school, it was a flood that she was too afraid to look at. Her parents were surprisingly happy for her, with her dad apologizing for blowing up in such a way on Chat Noir. “It’s okay,” she said, hugging him. “It was awkward, but it kept Chat from following Ladybug.”

“Which I can’t believe he did!” her mother groused. “You think he would know better!”

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed, old annoyance flaring up. “Me too.”

Thankfully, there wasn’t a crowd of reporters- yet. So Marinette wasted no time in rushing over to school before one did form.

Once she was there, she found herself pausing. A large portion of the people she saw were wearing Ladybug’s spots or LGBTQIA+ merch, from full outfits to just hair clips. Several stopped to smile and give her friendly waves, while others looked starstruck. This was a bigger reaction than she was expecting.

She waved back and headed to her classroom. She sent another prayer to the surprisingly quiet Tikki that nothing happened and opened the door.

The classroom was surprisingly quiet, with Lila sitting in the back looking like she had all the life drained from her, until Marinette stepped inside. “Marinette!” Alya said, jumping to her feet. She had switched her orange flannel for one bearing the pan colors. She wasted no time in rushing up and practically scooping her up in a hug. The shock meant that it took a second before Marinette realized that Alya was apologizing into her hair. “-so sorry, I should’ve thought more about Ladybug’s feelings, I never meant to hurt her, swear-”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said, pulling away to smile at her bestie. “I know how people can get with superheroes, I think Ladybug forgives you.” She poked Alya’s nose. “Although I’m annoyed that you tried to air out my crush on Adrien to all of Paris.”

Alya sighed, nodding. “I know. Now that I think about it, it was super not cool.” She tried for a smile. “I’m sorry, girl.”

Despite herself, Marinette couldn’t stay mad. “I forgive you. But, don’t do it again.” Alya nodded and with that out of the way, she could move on. She looked around and couldn’t help but raise a brow. “But what’s going on? Why is everyone either wearing Ladybug stuff or pride stuff? If I had known, I would’ve dug my pride stuff out.”

“Oh, haven’t you checked online?” Nino called, his headphones decorated with bi stickers.

Marinette shook her head. “I’ve been too afraid to,” she admitted. “My social media has been flooded with messages and emails.”

“Oh, I can sort those for you, dudette.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, handing over her phone. “The code’s still the same.” Nino nodded as he began to fiddle with her phone.

“Anyway,” Kim said, wearing a transmac hoodie instead of his regular red hoodie. “The entire queer community adopted Ladybug as a queer icon after her interview last night. People have been debating for hours whether she’s a lesbian or bi.”

“Uh huh,” Well, at least the community was supportive. “I’m glad people are supportive.”

“Of course they are,” Alya said, leading her to their seats. “It’s Ladybug and you, the biggest sweethearts in Paris. If anyone isn’t, they look-”

“RIDICULOUS!” Chloe stormed in, wearing her normal clothing. Her gaze could’ve set Marinette on fire as she marched up and slammed her hands on her desk. On closer inspection, her eyes were rimmed red. “Break up with Ladybug.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you deaf?!” Chloe shrieked, slamming her hand down. “Break up with Ladybug! There is only one girl that is perfect enough for her to date, and it’s certainly not you!”

“And I’m guessing that’s you?” Alya scoffed before Marinette could figure out a proper response that wasn’t not in your life. “Please, everyone knows Ladybug hates your guts.”

“She does not!” Chloe shrieked, tears beading up in the corner of her eyes. “She thinks I’m great! She chose me to be a hero! She knows I’m great! She-”

“Lost the Miraculous by accident, and you refused to give it back.” Marinette interrupted. Chloe’s jaw dropped, and she gaped at her. “Yeah, she told me about that. She thought you would do better, be better if you understood how your actions affect Paris. But you didn’t.” She leaned forward and that angry spark in her, the one that had been burning in her since Adrien pouted and moaned, burned. “Your actions are why people were celebrating that you were leaving Paris when you decided to go to New York.”

“Marinette!” Adrien called, also dressed in his normal clothes, but she held her hand out.

“You are nothing to Ladybug. Just a hazard and a safety risk.” Marinette leaned back in her chair. “The only reason I made that party for you is because Adrien asked. Nobody else.”

Chloe shut her mouth. She looked around the room. Sabrina looked away. Nobody else did, staring her down, bonded in silent agreement. Marinette expected her to rage, to scream, to throw a fit. Instead, she straightened up and walked to her seat. The moment she sat down, she hid her face.

“Marinette!” Adrien barked. “That was horrible! You-”

“Told her what Ladybug thought of her and what she needed to hear,” Marinette said, interrupting him. She leaned forward, allowing the anger brewing in her at him to burn in her eyes. “And if you don’t stop and think about your actions, so will I.”

Adrien stared with wide eyes. Without another word, but a nasty glance back, he turned and sat down. Nino scooted away from him before turning and holding up her phone. “Here, Nette,” he said. “There was some hate mail from people like Chloe,” Chloe flinched. “But a lot more of people supporting you.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Marinette said, taking her phone back.

The rest of the school day passed in silence. Twice, Adrien tried to get her alone, apparently undeterred by her threat, but Alya and the rest of the girl squad made sure there was a bodyguard nearby until Adrien had to leave for a photoshoot. (Rose was tiny but fierce in her desire to protect Marinette.) The rest of the school left her alone, excluding a few people who asked for her autograph and pictures and a whole bunch of gifts and letters in her locker. Marinette tried to ignore the heat in her face with all the love and care. 

Finally, the school day was over. Marinette walked out and breathed a sigh of early relief. She could see a few news vans waiting outside the bakery, so she had that to stress about, but she had gotten through the school day relatively unscathed.

The sound of a guitar met her ears and she paused, coming to a stop on the stairs.

Right. Luka.

She meant to talk to him after the interview, but Chat Noir had been following her, insisting to talk more about them, that she hadn’t been able to. So, here she was, standing on the steps, trying her best to not be seen by the musician as he strummed his guitar, probably waiting for Juleka.

It was tempting to run. But Marinette had to be braver than that. 

She took a deep breath and marched down the stairs, coming to a stop right next to him. Luka paused in his playing, staring at her. Marinette couldn’t look him in the eyes. Instead, she found herself staring at her feet. “Hi, Luka,” she said and immediately wanted to facepalm. Hi, Luka? Just that? Not, hey Luka, did you see the interview where Ladybug revealed I was two-timing you with her even though we’re the same person-

“You should’ve given me a heads up that we were poly,” Luka’s voice broke through her haze. She glanced up. Luka smiled at her, although it was edged with something. “I have a cute boy in my class, his name’s Felix, and I think you two would love each other.”

Marinette’s mind blanked, at first wondering what he was talking about, and then realization. “You…you aren’t mad?”

“I…I don’t know how to feel,” Luka admitted, and it was strange to see him admit that. Luka was the only boy she knew who was best in touch with his emotions. “On one hand, it makes a lot more sense than you pining over Adrien like everyone thought. On the other-”

“I lied,” Marinette admitted. “I lied, a lot, to you and everyone.” She gripped the edge of her shirt. “I kept ditching dates for something dumb, not related to her,” Luka raised a brow, but she continued on. “Sometimes I wished she didn’t exist because I trust you, Luka, I trust you so much but I keep having to lie because I care about her too and hurt you and and and-” Warm arms engulfed her but she couldn’t allow it, she needed to say it. “I’m so sorry, Luka.”

Luka didn’t say a word, just held her. Finally, he sighed. “I’m sorry too, Marinette,” he admitted. “I should’ve been better, maybe then-”

“No!” Marinette shoved him away. Luka stumbled back, looking hurt, but Marinette wasted no time in gripping his shoulders, staring him down. “You were wonderful,” she said, making sure he understood. “You were wonderful. I was the one who should’ve been better. I should’ve communicated better, I should’ve explained better about why I was leaving you in the lurch.”

“I was the one who got akumatized,” Luka said, staring back with wide eyes. “I went after you.”

“It was my fault you got akumatized in the first place!”

“No, it was not-” And now Luka was holding her shoulders, making sure she was looking at him. They probably looked strange, gripping each other’s shoulders like this, but Marinette didn’t care. “It was not your fault. It was Hawkmoth’s fault.” Right, right, Marinette needed to remember that. He was the one who took advantage of people. “We’re both crappy at communicating. We can work on that.”

Wait…

“You…want to try again?”

Luka paused and then nodded. “Now that I know more, enough to possibly understand some things,” He took in a deep breath. “Only if you want to?”

Marinette nodded back. “We can try,” And isn’t that what they all could do? “Maybe you can introduce me to Felix, and I can introduce you to…” She held up her hand at the sight of a familiar red car. “Hang on real quick.”

Luka blinked but nodded. Marinette smiled as they released each other before she turned and marched up to Kagami, who paused with a raised brow. Much to her delight, she wore gloves marked with the queer pride flag. “Wanna go on a date?” she asked promptly.

Kagami blinked. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then hummed. Marinette waited patiently. If Kagami had to think about it, than she was willing to wait. “Yes,” she finally said. “If your girlfriend is alright with it?”

Marinette nodded, feeling her face heat up. “Luka and I are trying again,” she admitted. “So he’s introducing a friend of his on our date. I wanted to introduce you to him, because I think you guys would be good friends, if not datemates.” She wanted to be honest where she could.

Kagami’s eyes brightened at the mention of friendship. “Then I certainly will come,” she said. “You have my number, so let me know the details.”

“I will.” She held out her hand and Kagami didn’t hesitate in giving it a squeeze. “Maybe after practice today, we can have our first date? At our usual spot?”

Kagami smiled. It was awkward, but it was sincere. “I would love that.” With one last squeeze of her hand, Kagami marched into the school.

Luka was chuckling when Marinette returned. “I guess we’ll have a full table,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll talk to Felix and figure out a good time for us.”

Marinette nodded. “Let me know the details.” She paused. “And, thank you, Luka.” Before he could respond she took off running.

Lying about her girlfriend went better than expected!

[withleeknow]

MASTERLIST © WITHLEEKNOW

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying in any way is not permitted. minors dni.

updated: 08.01.2025 · latest: wishful thinking (08)

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come claim an emoji ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

♡ = fluff  ·  ♤ = angst  ·  ♧ = smut

the fics are sorted from most recent to oldest.

⌜ BANG CHAN ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

outside clothes ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.5k ⤷ he’s warmth and happiness personified.

like you used to ( ♤ ) — est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ “kiss me like you did the first time under that shitty street light near the corner of my old apartment.”

⌜ LEE MINHO⌟

☁️ ONESHOTS & SERIES:

moonstruck ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 4.7k ⤷ years and years from now, when you’re old and gray and look like raisins – as he so poetically put it – you’ll remember this moment down to every miniscule detail.

wishful thinking ( ♡ ♤ ♧ ) — friends to lovers, friends with benefits au ⤷ the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

💌 DRABBLES:

lost cause ( ♡ ♤ ) — est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ it would be so easy, wouldn’t it? for him to pack up before he realizes somewhere down the line that he’s wasted his time and effort on a lost cause?

october 23rd ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 1k ⤷ his big eyes, usually keen and sharp, always soften to a dizzying degree when they look at you.

lifeline ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.7k ⤷ there’s a touch that minho is familiar with, one that makes him drop whatever it is that he could be doing just to be there for you.

whiskers ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ sometimes he calls them whiskers, sometimes he calls them moons.

seasons of you ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.7k ⤷ minho falls in love with you four times a year.

anchored ( ♡ ♤ ) — est. relationship; 1.0k ⤷ in those instances, you don’t necessarily need him to say anything back, you just want to feel seen and heard.

sweeter ( ♧ ) — est. relationship; 1.4k ⤷ “say it, bunny. make me happy.”

happy place ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.8k ⤷ every pretty color he sees and every beautiful adjective in his vocabulary? that’s all you.

magnolia ( ♡ ♤ ) — est. relationship; 0.4k ⤷ there are some things that you just have to process on your own, some motions you have go through by yourself.

thirteen percent ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 1.2k ⤷ it was beyond endearing, but it was also fucking 4:18am.

my moon and stars ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 1.1k ⤷ he’s full of surprises today, it seems.

forgetful ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.

remedy ( ♡ ♤ ) — est. relationship; 1.2k ⤷ “you don’t have to talk to me. just… stay with me for a while.”

away from you ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ absence makes the heart grow fonder - maybe there’s some truth in that.

fujifilm x100v ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.3k ⤷ your fujifilm x100v, minho always says he hates the thing.

endgame ( ♡ ♧ ) — est. relationship; 1.1k ⤷ the thought of ever loving anyone else seems like an impossible one. he’s it for you. this is your endgame, right here.

quiet ( ♡ ♧ )— est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ “i always like your voice. you know that.”

in the dark ( ♡ ♤ ) — friends to lovers; 0.6k ⤷ he’s too stubborn for his own good and he’s too good for his own sake.

fold ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ “you lasted 58 minutes. so close. almost made it a full hour.”

to build a home ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.5k ⤷ home isn’t always a place. sometimes, home is a person.

⌜ HWANG HYUNJIN ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

the nut graph ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.8k ⤷ your boyfriend loves the rain; there’s something so charmingly idyllic about the rain and he’s nothing if not a romantic.

rue de rivoli ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ any city is love when you’re with him.

⌜ HAN JISUNG ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

parallel lines ( ♤ ) — best friends au, unrequited love au; 1.3k ⤷ so quick, so easy. the process of leaving you, done in mere minutes.

⌜ KIM SEUNGMIN ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

six minutes ( ♡ ) — friends to lovers (?); 0.8k ⤷ “i don’t think a kidnapper would get up early and google how to soft boil eggs either.”

⌜ OT8 ⌟

letters i didn't send to you ( ♤ ) — est. relationship; 0.7k ⤷ take me home, will you? let's go back to new york.

somewhere only we know ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ maybe it’s just being with him, maybe it’s just being in love.

[piratefishmama]

Fake it till you make it | Part 4

‘Boundaries’ were harder to settle on than they'd expected them to be. Eddie didn’t seem to want to put anything on the “strictly no” list. Even when Steve suggested sex should be on there Eddie just wiggled his brows and claimed a week in a cabin with him might change things.

Steve found that hilarious enough to laugh at (much to Eddie's adorable pout) but also too fair to disagree with.

They were two healthy, queer, adult men! What was a little consensual nookie between fake boyfriends?

Plus he couldn’t tell if Eddie was joking or not so he put that on the mental ‘maybe a boundary’ list that may or may not be tested.

Steve wasn’t about to completely rule it out either! He had a healthy libido and Eddie wasn’t unattractive. He… actually was pretty damn attractive.

Nice eyes, nice hair, nice lips, nice voice, nice han— anyway, they had a whole week together in a romantic chalet, pretending to date.

Anything could happen. Especially if they didn’t rule anything out. And ruling it out only made it seem more exciting, like it was dangerous. Best to just not rule it out.

“What about kissing?” Steve pondered aloud, a small frown on his brow

“If I’m not ruling out sex, Harrington, I think kissing should be fi—"

“No, dumbass, not ruling it out, I mean… it’s gotta seem like a thing we normally do right? An you gotta stop calling me Harrington, it’s Steve. Boyfriends don’t call each other by their last names.”

“I’ll have a mental list of pet names prepared before the day ends, don’t you worry, Stevie, but what do you suggest? Are you thinking we should practice?” Eddie leaned forward a grin stretching on his lips that almost seemed predatory, like he was expecting Steve to stumble through a rebuttal, expecting him to back down or to apologise, but no, Steve wasn’t some simpering maiden who’d bashfully turn him down.

Steve was an experienced ladies man with a reputation for being… for lack of a better term, a bit of a hometown slut.

Even if he had no practical experience with men, that didn’t stop him from exuding confidence as he moved onto his haunches and crossed the very short distance between them, forcing that mischievous little shit right back into his spot as Steve basically climbed from his hands and knees into Eddie’s lap, watching in satisfaction as all that mischief just kind of…

Drained from his face.

Drained and replaced with wide-eyed rosy cheeked surprise, his hands extended out either side of himself to avoid touching Steve’s body. Adorable.

“Maybe we should.”

“Ah—uhm—heh—y-yeah I mean—m-maybe not here though, yeah?” He talked a good game, he put on a damn fine front, but Eddie Munson wasn’t exactly swimming in cock. Wasn’t even paddling. Or wading the cock waters.

No he was mainly just suffering in queer silence on dry land with just good ol leftie and a few skin mags to make himself feel better. Although the image of Steve Harrington in his lap? Oh yeah that’d do him for a few months.

Sad that it ended so fast though, with Steve backing his perfectly plush ass right back into his seat quickly after, holding his hands up in mock surrender, accepting the stuttered rejection like a champ.

“Wherever you feel comfiest, man, but I suggest we figure that shit out fast, we don’t have long before this trip an you’ll have to meet them before we go so we’re going to have to be comfortable with each other, especially if it’s an environment where we have no excuse to not be comfortable.” If they were in public? Absolutely they’d have many excuses readily available.

The chalet? Not public. In fact it was quite big, the only reason he was so sure his parents would bring someone for him was because it was big enough that they could do their own thing for hours without crossing paths. Sure the bedrooms were close to each other but there were other rooms to fuck around in.

Damn thing had two Jacuzzi’s and a sauna. Not to mention a home cinema to fool around in.

They’d be hoping that he’d spend some easily obtained alone time with this mystery person. God he’d be being pimped out by his parents. How had his life come to this?

“You want me to meet them before we go?” He was just expecting to turn up on the day and be ‘Steve’s new boyfriend’ that they’d never met and would just have to accept would be in attendance. In that scenario he assumed Steve would just get the okay from them to have him come and that be that but—

Clearly his imagination was not even remotely true to real life. “Uhh… yeah, they’ll wanna know who they’re spending a week with, Eddie, c’mon, fake dating starts like… now…”

“So can I charge you from now?”

“Dude that’d be double—”

“Aren’t you rich?”

“I work minimum wage at Family Video for crying out loud, no I’m not rich. My parents are rich, I make enough to keep the lights on and keep my fridge stocked while they’re away. C’mon man… I can do a week, I have savings that’ll cover a week but two weeks? That’s fourteen-hundred, dude, I can’t—” Two weeks was stretching things uncomfortably far. Like… going into debt kind of far. He couldn’t ask his parents for money because they’d wanna know what it was for and for him to get a receipt and Eddie didn’t do receipts. Or refunds. “I might actually starve.”

“… Fine.” He almost argued, you live in a McMansion Steve, I live in a trailer park, but then… Steve did actually work at Family Video, wouldn’t just do that if he didn’t have to, who’s to say his parents paid for anything for him? Who’s to say they didn’t pull the ‘you’re an adult now, son, we’ll let you live here but you have to pull your own weight’ shtick parents were apparently so fond of? God what if they made him pay rent?

Eddie really didn’t know anything about the Harringtons.

Steve clearly didn’t go to college, so… maybe his dad wouldn’t hire him for a role he wasn’t qualified for? Unlikely but not impossible if recent discoveries concerning Steve Harrington were to be used as a reference point. Couldn't assume anything about him. “Fine?”

“Yeah, fine. How about, instead… we stick with my original rate an call it a flat seven hundred, fifty per day, an we start now? We can head to the trailer park an figure shit out there, deduct today so it’s only six fifty cause we’re brainstorming. My uncle may be home, but he should be asleep now. He works nights. We should be fine… unless you wanna head to yours and go in blind, take a ‘we’re figuring things out together awkwardly’ approach to it?” That’d track, he could do awkward, he could probab—

“Nah, they’d never think I was awkward at dating, even though you are a guy.” Of course they wouldn’t. Their lady killer son would never be awkward about dating… he wasn’t either, that was the kicker. He’d got all the way up in Eddie’s business not five minutes ago and looked comfortable doing it, like he actually would have practiced kissing in the back of Eddie’s beat up old van.

Holy shit he could have been making out with Steve Harrington in the back of his van.

He said not here, yeah?

What the shit was his problem?!

Was he actually completely insane?

He was going to be a virgin forever.

“You good there, Ed?”

“Huh?” He squeaked. Eddie Munson did not squeak, but yet, there he was. Squeakin away. “Oh! Y-yeah yeah, just coming to an abrupt unfortunate conclusion, yep, I am a-ok completely and totally oooone-hundreeeeeee— okay I came to a very real realisation that I could have been basically making out with you for ‘practice’ in the back of my van in the bushes where nobody could interrupt us and that could have gone anywhere cause it’s comfy back here yet i decided to tell you ‘not here, yeah?’ like a perma-virgin so— yeah.”

“Jeez… maybe you could pull off the awkward boyfriend thing.”

“…So about that fourteen hundred.”

Part 6

[adventuringblind]

A Little Sick

Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Sick fic

Summary: Carlos' struggle to take care of his girlfriend who's both sick and regressed. Lucky for him, he knows how to get her to nap.

Warnings: Agere/age-regression, non-sexual ageplay, non-sexual use of daddy, sinus infection, fear of doctors, mentions of past trauma

Notes: Haven't written for Carlos in so long T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Carlos knew the second he heard sniffling that something wasn't right. The way fatigue seems to drip from his lover didn't go unnoticed.

The problem is that was two weeks ago. She'd claimed allergies or a minor cold. Her disgust at anything having to do with sickness and doctors showing through her lack of acceptance.

Carlos has half a mind to just lay on top of her and force her to rest. Alternatively, if he could get her to regress, this would be immesley easier.

He can see her forcing herself not to. The delicate line between headspace getting blurrier with each day.

It's when she wakes up in tears, the Carlos knows something has to be done.

"Princessa?" He rolls her over and bundles her up into his arms. Her entire body is on fire and when he touches her face, she wails in pain. "We should go see a doctor, amor."

She's non-verbal all morning, trying desperately not to slip in headspace. Until Carlos finally take the initiative. He hates doing this, but he's been doing this long enough to see when she needs to slip and let Carlos take care of her.

Carlos starts small by picking out her clothes. Comfortable, obviously, since they are just going to the doctor. Then he puts her shoes on for her and ties the laces. By the time he's done, he can see the look in her eyes. The one that aches with the need for comfort. Desperate to not face the object of her nightmares.

Carlos grabs her comfort item and places it gently into her hands. He kneels down in front of her. "I won't leave you alone, okay? I'll be with you the entire time. Can you be brave for me?" She gives him a shy nod in response.

Carlos gets her into the car and buckles her seatbelt for her. He turns on soft music and she bobs her head along to the words. He coos at her with how adorable she looks at the moment.

She freezes up the second he pulls into the parking lot. The fear in her eyes says everything. She's on the verge of a breakdown, but Carlos is there to calm her. He holds her hand and helps her breathe before helping her out of the car.

He manages getting her checked in since she's still non-verbal and on the verge of tears. Eyes glassy with terror over being in the place she despises.

Carlos runs his fingers along her spine. "You're doing so good, carina."

She freezes when her name is called. Her body trembling in fear and squeezing the life out of Carlos' hand with her own. He swiftly wraps an arm around her and whispers into her ear some reassurance.

She doesn't say a word to the doctor, only watches him with suspicion. He ends up prescribing antibiotics and sending them on their way.

She wails the second they are in the safety of the car. All the nerves she'd been biting back finally able to burst free of their confines. Carlos has to get her to breathe. The hyperventilation nearly making her sick. He doesn't let go of her hand the entire way home.

He carries her inside, still sniffling from the overwhelming emotions from earlier. Carlos feels awful for having to put her through such a thing. The fact he knows full well why she hates it making it even harder to do.

He settles her on the couch. One he can see her from despite being in the kitchen and hastily throwing together soup. The television is playing her movie of choice. The background noise has become soothing to both of them.

He ends up having to feed her the soup himself. Not that he minds, it just means having to change her clothes afterwards. Which is no easy task considering she's deadweight in his arms. On purpose, mind you, but she's giggling about it, so Carlos makes no complaint.

Carlos puts the movie back on afterwards. Her head resting on his lap as she curls up on the couch. The mountain of blankets obscuring her body and stuffed animals she dutifully brough with her.

"I did good, papá?" Her squeaky voice carries from where the blankets muffle it.

Carlos keeps a steady rhythm, fingers running against her scalp in a comforting manor. The repetition has always put her to sleep within minutes. "The best, amor. Sleep now, the more you rest the sooner you'll get better." Ke kisses her forehead. Her eye's drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 18

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: just slight reminders of events from 17th chapter

Words: 3759

A/N: Hi! So, I did the poll, and at the time when I started writing the story, it was 50/50 jeju island and Hawaii. I decided to do Hawaii as it feels a bit more interesting for me, but Jeju island will be in the story too sometime! :)

If anyone would want to have some bigger part of the story (like fav musicians -other than K-pop, or favourite colour, favourite clothes brand, food spot...) Just DM me or write it in the comments. I'll include it if it goes well with the story :))

Thank you for voting. And reading, I value you a lot.

Lots of love

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Soon the engine roared to life, but still, the Alpha made sure to pay close attention to the road. It was still terribly slippery.

They wanted to get you home as quickly as possible, knowing that you needed to rest and just hang out for a while with them. They were lucky that most of them didn't have to go to work today.

Smiling at you reassuringly, Jimin turned on the radio, switching to an omega-centred station that mostly consisted of soft, lo-fi-like music that was recommended for the second gender to listen to, especially on longer car rides.

The pack definitely wanted to go out with you sometimes and plan a nice trip and vacation, and so most of the alphas that were driving had already purchased subscriptions for many omega apps and radio stations, ready for any occasion.

A lot of marketing was targeted at packs that had an omega, having the softened-up alphas pay for stuff in hopes their small baby wouldn't start crying during a long car ride, on a plane, or on a boat.

It was usual for them to be very cautious and not really notice the price of anything when it was targeted for omegas.

So the second you enter a store—pretty much any type, going from grocery stores to electronics all the way to many restaurants—a selection is labelled with a small 'O', marking it as perfectly safe and made specifically for the second gender.

A lot of people made messy money off the worried packs. If their omega was sick, the pack would naturally grow worried and overprotective, ready to buy anything to make them feel better.

The second a shop assistant catches on, if they feel like it, they can start making stuff up, claiming that things that will most likely not help definetly will. It could be easy to mislead the pack members if they aren't careful enough.

The car ride was quiet and quicker than usual; soon the car was already parked, with the garage doors automatically opening after Jungkook called a phone number.

Climbing out, the alphas were quick to help you, opening the doors for you and pulling you gently out. Keeping a hold of your palm, Jimin once again hugged you closely, still able to smell how off your scent was.

„There, there, princess. It's all well now, hm? Come on, let's go in, my baby.” The alpha mumbled, smiling softly at you and nuzzling your nose with his, making you smile a bit.

Jungkook called the number again, waiting for the garage doors to close while he locked up the car and pocketed the keys.

Looking back at you with his packmate, the youngest giggled gently, ruffling your hair. „Let's go bunbun. Hold Alpha's hand... There, what a good girl.” He smiled at you, holding your other hand.

Leading you to the garage entrance, the whole room was huge—much bigger than any one you ever saw in anyone's home. It was much colder in here, and so you huddled to yourself, letting yourself be ushered to the doors.

Opening the metal-like doors, Jungkook led you both through, ending in a white halfway, and the alpha led you through, leading you after himself. Soon your small group appeared at the long, halfway full studios and a few other rooms, like the gym.

And so, you were in the kitchen in no time, the eldest alpha sitting at the kitchen table, a few cups and pots before him. Shooting up at the smell of you all approaching, he rushed over right away, pulling you to himself.

„Oh my god, sweetheart, I was so scared that something happened... God... Come here, let me hold you for a minute, cub."

Jin mumbled to himself, folding your head to his neck and letting you smell his scent gland while he went over the top of your head with his chin, scenting you gently.

You felt his lips gently flutter over your hair, but as soon as they came, they were gone. His scent drenched you quickly; the roses bloomed softly on your nose.

The other two alphas walked off, dispersing around the room. Washing their hands, Jimin and Jungkook went around the kitchen, noticing that the alpha was cooking a few meals already.

„Are you making pastries, Hyung?" The youngest asked, looking at the sizzling fish-shaped pan.

There was already a bit of the sweetened red bean paste inside, and so the alpha closed the pan carefully, turning it over so the shape would be achieved.

Looking up from coddling you, Jin still left his fingers in your hair, running it through gently. He kept his eyes soft, watching you fondly.

„Mhm, it's Bungeoppang; do you like those babycub? I was hoping you would; I made them very sweet for you, my baby.” He said, running his knuckles over your cheeks.

Nodding quickly, you always enjoyed tayaki, the sweet treat your grandparents would sometimes buy you at the food courts back when you lived in Japan.

Your grandmother bought the special-shaped pan too, and she would make it for you and your siblings often too.

„I really like it; thank you, Oppa." You said, looking into the alpha's eyes. Your scent must have brightened up; you were quite excited for once.

„Good. I'll finish them up for you quickly, okay?” He said, ushering you and Jimin over to the TV, Taehyung suddenly appearing from upstairs.

He noticed you right away, rushing over and taking you in his arms. „Babycheeks...” He whispered, crushing your face against his neck, still mindful not to hurt you.

Holding you close to him, he bended over to your neck, taking on a strong whiff of your scent. Running his cheek over your neck, scenting you.

Pulling away for a second, the alpha looked into your eyes, his hands on either side of your face. He watched you with concern and worry, but when you only smiled softly to him, he sighed out, pulling you to himself once again.

„Aish... Taehyung-ah, stop hogging her up!” Jimin called out, already seated on the couch. Sighing out, you noticed just the smallest growl building up in the man's chest, but he complied nonetheless.

Letting you take a seat first, you had the older alpha to your left and Tae sitting down to your right. Patting your knee gently, Jimin handed you a soft brown jumper.

You recognised it right away, smiling to yourself. You whispered out a thank you, pulling it to yourself.

Relaxing on the couch, the alpha smiled at you, brushing his fingers through your hair and turning on the television.

„-undance of marine biodiversity. Under the surface, a kaleidoscope of colours unfolds as we dive into the vibrant coral reefs. These underwater ecosystems are a haven for countless species, each playing a vital role in maintaining the delicate balance of this underwater paradise.

One of the most iconic inhabitants of these waters is the majestic sea turtle. These ancient creatures, known as Honu in Hawaiian, gracefully glide through the ocean, their gentle presence a symbol of wisdom and longevity. We witness their serene beauty as they navigate through the coral gardens, a sight that leaves us in awe.”

Gasping softly at the adorable shots of the small turtles swimming through the waters, you fell in love with the view before you.

It looked so peaceful and bright there. The water looked crystal clear, so the bottom of the ocean was visible, and the sand dunes were easy to see. With a few of the corals in the distance, the big turtle and the small cub swam around the underwater cameraman.

„As we venture further, we encounter playful pods of dolphins, their acrobatic displays a testament to the joy and freedom of life in the ocean. These intelligent creatures captivate us with their synchronised movements and infectious energy, reminding us of the boundless wonders that lie beneath the surface.

Hawaii's warm waters also serve as a sanctuary for the magnificent humpback whales. Every year, these gentle giants embark on an epic migration, travelling thousands of miles to the Hawaiian Islands to give birth and nurture their young. Witnessing their awe-inspiring breaches and hearing their haunting songs is an experience that leaves an indelible mark on our souls.”

„Oh wow, the dolphins are awesome...” Taehying mumbled, watching the screen closely.

Laughing at his amazement, the older alpha looked over. „I mean, we saw them in real life too some time ago, do you not remember? On the ship?” He said this, watching the other alpha.

„I remember Hyung, but this is very different. Imagine diving with them and-”

„Yeah, well, I bet the second you are at the open ocean, you'll piss your pants.”

„Yah! Hyung-” 

You didn't pay much attention to them while watching the colourful shots of the mammals in the documentary.

„I would like to see...” You mumbled to yourself, your eyes glued to the content. You were amazed.

The two men immediately stopped bickering, and you had them look over immediately. Any unnecessary agitation was gone right away, and their eyes are now much softer.

„The dolphins?” the older man asked, rubbing your upper back gently. You never got to see such creatures in real life; you only got to swim in an ocean very rarely. Sure, you knew how to swim, well...kind of.

You weren't too confident, and your family hardly ever went to a swimming pool, so there wasn't much space for you to get better.

You were always a bit too scared to go on your own, not sure about what you would be doing there alone since you wouldn't be really able to swim a few laps just like that.

Plus, you were always a bit too worried about the changing rooms and the experience overall.

Lately, it has become a huge trend in many big public swimming pools and aquaparks to get rid of changing rooms for men and women and instead build a whole new one, placing both genders in the same ones.

Sure, you wouldn't have to go and change next to the lockers anymore; instead, you would enter a hallway full of double-sided small changing rooms, similar to the ones in clothing stores.

Once you lock those with a barrier, you just change into your swimsuit and come out on the other side, where you lock all your things and go to shower and swim. You just never felt too safe in those.

„Thousands of tropical fish, like the vibrant parrotfish and the elusive Moorish idol, dart among the coral formations, creating a spectacle of colours and patterns. These reefs are not only a visual feast but also vital habitats that support a myriad of marine life.

Behind the scenes, dedicated marine biologists and conservationists work tirelessly to protect and preserve Hawaii's ocean wonders...”

Nodding shyly, you didn't realise that they would immediately start paying so much attention to you, taking your silly, not too deeply thought-out idea much more seriously.

„You want to go diving, princess?” Jimin asked, looking at you with soft eyes. Seeing you nod gently, the alphas have already started to plot many ideas on how to fulfil your request.

„In the sea, baby? On which island would you like to go, sweetie?” Taehyung said, turning to you, his eyes set on you.

Humming to yourself, you didn't really expect them to take it too seriously, so you didn't think for too long. There weren't many times you actually thought about going on vacation to a completely different country.

There was never enough money to even talk seriously about such a topic, and so you never really paid too much attention to the expensive resort ads you would sometimes see online.

Pointing over to the screen before you, there were a few cinametic shots of the island coastline, the ocean waves washing over the sand.

Smiling to themselves, the alpha on your left ran his chin over your head gently, smiling to himself. Taehyung was already looking up luxurious resorts and was quick to open a few websites.

„Okay princess, alphas will figure everything out for you, my baby.” He said this, hugging you close. He watched over his younger packmate's shoulder, looking over the villas he had already started scanning through.

He knew Taehyung would choose a nice place to stay. They didn't care about any prices; why would they even have to?

They didn't have to care if it was 2.000.000 or 8.000.000 ₩ per night; as long as the place was comfortable and beautiful, and mostly if you liked it, then everything was okay.

„Bunny, come have some of the pastries!” The youngest called out from the kitchen, watching closely as you waddled to stand up, making your way over to him.

Smiling widely at you, he made sure the fish-shaped food was cooled down before he handed it to you, letting you take a big bite while he bit down on another one he took.

They were crunchy but soft on the outside, and they were so sweet, you were immediately smiling.

„Is it good peaches?” Jin asked, running his hands over your back. Nodding virtuously, you ate even more, happy with how it tasted.

„Slow down cub, don't eat so quickly... There you go.” He murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear. Soft with his eyes, he smiled at you when you were slower.

Savouring the flavour, you quickly finished. Handing you another one, you bit into the pastry again, the men around you chuckling softly at your eagerness. They were glad you were eating well.

The door opening alarm went off, having all of the alphas turning to look at the entrance. Shuffling in, Hoseok smiled towards all of his packmates. Noticing you, he was quick to come closer, dropping the grocery bags on the floor before he rushed over.

Picking you up, he held you to his scentgland, running his arms up and down your sides softly, breathing in your scent. There wasn't much of a hint of sadness or anxiety, and so the man was reassured.

„My sunshine... I'm so glad you are okay; you gave us quite the scare there, bub. Oh- I bought you some sweets, here let me-”

„Did you buy the banana milk?”

„Hyung, the cake, you bought it for me, right?”

The two youngest asked, both of them going in-between, so the alpha had to put you down unwillingly. Taking you into his arms instead, Jimin was quick to hug you instead.

„Yah! Hobi-ah, your shoes are dirty; are you crazy? I just cleaned the floors too, aish...!” Jin shouted, not meaning it too much. Pulling him back to the entrance, the younger only laughed, trying to make the other alpha let go of the strong hold on his wrist.

Picking up the grocery bags, Jungkook carried them over, quick to sort through them, pulling out a few foods and beverages. Finding a whole carton of the banana milks, he smiled widely, carrying them over to the fridge.

With Jimin's hands wrapped around your waist from behind, you relaxed against his warm chest while he leaned against the counter. Nuzzling you, the alpha was careful to pay close attention to you, not holding back from much scenting anymore.

Just then, the entrance doors unlocked again, and the last men from the pack walked in, their carry-on bags thrown over their shoulders.

With Namjoon closing the doors after himself, the older man had already kicked off his shoes, hung his coat fast, and was already hurrying in your direction.

Noticing that no sobs could be heard, he felt himself calm down slightly, but not much could be done until he had you in his arms.

Seeing you in his younger packmate's arms, he felt his heart soften. Cooing quietly, Yoongi pulled you from Jimin's hands, carefully picking you up.

Helping you wrap your legs around his waist, he held you up, folding your head to his scent gland.

He felt his eyes gloss over; he grew so worried and stressed after the call ended, not knowing what exactly was happening.

He was anxious enough already, not having you in his sight as it was, but after he received the call, he grew overprotective like never before.

Breathing in the soft strawberry scent you held, he felt his shoulders sag, blinking away any tears before they might fall. Holding you close to himself, Yoongi embraced you strongly, feeling his chin shake a little.

Noticing the change in mood, the eldest looked over. Seeing his younger packmate get emotional after being so worried for your safety warmed his heart. He cared a lot for his pack.

Walking over, Jin ruffled the second oldest's hair, patting your soft, small hands that clutched around his neck in the meantime.

He didn't say much else, realising full well that Yoongi would never forgive him if he picked on his emotions. He would never, really.

Letting his lips brush against your temple, the alpha took a few shuddering breaths before he started to calm down. Patting your hair gently, he ran his chin and cheek over your head virtuously, making sure you were drenched in his heavy alpha scent.

„Don't scare me like that, my sweetest kitten. Alpha was very worried, my good girl.” He whispered in your ear, placing you down on your feet carefully.

Checking over your face, he brushed your hair away from your eyes, caressing your cheeks. Smiling warmly at you, he stepped away, realising that the packalpha also needed to have his moment of reassurance that everything was okay.

Stepping over, Namjoon too picked you up, but instead of cradling you and staying mostly in his spot, the alpha carried you over to the couch, and all of the other men quickly came to sit down too.

Holding you to his chest, he let you rest against his collarbone and breathe in the warm scent he always held, his warm hands just holding you close for a minute or two.

Resting his head back, the alpha felt himself calm down, any agitation and worry soon dissipating. Resting his eyes for a few seconds, he breathed out before he sat up well again, still holding you close.

„...what happened, sweetie? Tell alpha now, my baby." He mumbled, coaxing you gently to answer. With his fingers gently running over your temples and cheeks, he, too, occasionally scented you like all the other packmates.

Sitting all around you, they allowed you to speak, listening closely. With the hoodie once again between your arms, all the alphas paid close attention to whatever went so badly this morning.

„The poster I m-made yesterday... The laptop it was on bro-ke, and it just wouldn't open, so my cla-classmates...” You spoke softly, your fingers clutching on to Namjoon's.

Running his thumb gently over the top of your hand, the alpha listened in closely.

„It broke? Like completely? Where is it? Let me take a lot, my sweetheart." He answered, looking around as if to spot your backpack.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jungkook stood up from his spot on the sofa, realising that it was still probably in his car. He told them quickly and went back to the garage to regain it.

„...y-yea it just... It didn't work, and the teacher got very... angry." You whispered, regaining the older man's sharp words you received this morning.

Frowning, most of the alphas leaned in, now truly interested. If someone even dared to be harsh on you, the pack would be quick to get rid of any issues. No one would get away with being bad to their omega.

„Angry? Why? The laptop broke, so obviously you wouldn't be able to show him your work. That's not your fault, sweet princess; you know that, right?” The younger alpha said, his hand gently running over your calf.

Looking away, you sighed.

„Seonsaeng-nim t-thought I didn't do it and just used it... as an excuse. My classmates weren't happy either.” You mumbled, wiping away any of the growing tears.

Quick to shush you, the packalpha tried to think clearly and not dwell on any assumptions he was currently making himself. It was hard, though, especially after he felt your shoulders shake a bit against his chest.

Shushing you sweetly, he held you closer, cradling you against him.

„That's bullshit; you literally did it with me yesterday. Absolutely fucking not. What's your teacher's name, kitten?” Yoongi could feel herself getting angrier.

Already looking up your school website, he was quick to scroll to the contact information, finding the phone number for the man in question.

Just then Jungkook came back, and the backpack opened before you. Taking the grey laptop out of it's pocket, the youngest alpha opened it, the few men around him looking at themselves.

Not much happened; the logo shined brightly on the black screen, making the packmate frown a bit.

„Your classmates, did they say something sunny?" Hoseok asked, sitting next to Namjoon. Taking a hold of your hand, he rubbed it gently, smiling at you encouragingly.

You could sense the anger rolling off of him already; the waves were strong and noticeable. You also realised more than well that it wasn't against you, not one bit.

Not sure where to start, you just nodded a little, feeling yourself start to cry softly. You didn't want to disappoint your group like that; you didn't mean to. Chin-Hae and Sun-Hi just didn't seem to understand that too well.

Cooing at you loudly, the packalpha hugged you once again, swaying you from side to side softly.

„Aigoo, my pup, don't cry, baby... No, no, no, it's okay, sweetheart, everything will be okay, hm? Alpha's are here, my baby; you're okay." He whispered, mindful to keep his voice soft.

Patting your hair gently, he watched as Yoongi stood up, a phone already held to his ear. He could hear just the faintest voice on the other side, and soon the alpha returned the favour, though his was kept much harsher.

He wasn't going to be making any jokes about you. If people wouldn't be nice to you when they weren't around to protect you, he would most definitely take immediate action.

Walking off to his soundproof studio, the rest of your packmates huddled around you, occasionally patting you and rubbing your back softly, gently coaxing you to tell them what exactly happened.

And you did, eventually explaining in a few stuttered-out sentences. revealing some of your past encounters with your classmates and teacher, it only added up.

And so, when the alphas got the whole story, they were more than livid.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[phoenixyfriend]

VP Kamala Harris is calling for immediate ceasefire in Gaza

I was alerted to this by the BBC Global News podcast. AP News has a full article on the speech itself, which was not held about Israel and Palestine, but was rather focused on domestic issues of race equality, as the speech was given in Selma, Alabama, on the anniversary of Bloody Sunday (a 1965 Civil Rights march that ended in police violence). There is also a Reuters article if you prefer those.

Despite VP Harris's incredible dedication to the topic of combating anti-black racism in the US and position as a figurehead and spokeswoman for many in that regard, she did find time in her speech for the following:

THINGS OF NOTE:

Harris is still, technically, holding to the party line on the topic of 'Israel has a right to defend itself.' At this point, I'm sure we've all seen enough arguments on whether or not that right is something Israel actually has, given its violations of the international laws of occupation, but it does read to me as more lip service than actual sincerity at this point.

Harris puts the onus of agreeing to a ceasefire on Hamas, rather than Israel. Given Netanyahu's months of explicit refusal to consider a ceasefire unless Hamas is completely and utterly destroyed (and with them, Gaza), this is... not great. Not great. She said, "Hamas claims it wants a ceasefire. Well, there is a deal on the table. And as we have said, Hamas needs to agree to that deal. Let’s get a ceasefire. Let’s reunite the hostages with their families. And let’s provide immediate relief to the people of Gaza."

The 'immediate ceasefire' is still just the 6-week pause that Biden has been talking about, rather than a permanent one.

The speech included "The Israeli government must do more to significantly increase the flow of aid. No excuses." This statement is interesting to look at in light of the US recently hitting a watershed moment and beginning airdrops of relief aid, something so inefficient that they were reluctant to engage with it until given no other choice. The preference was trucks, which are more efficient in terms of quantity, fuel usage, risk of damage from wind blowing things off course, etc. The 'no other choice' is in regards to whether or not the trucks could still get in, not in regards to international or domestic pressure, though that was likely a factor as well.

We got what I believe are some of the harshest and most direct criticisms of Israel's actions so far: "What we are seeing every day in Gaza is devastating. We have seen reports of families eating leaves or animal feed. Women giving birth to malnourished babies with little or no medical care, and children dying from malnutrition and dehydration. Our hearts break for the victims of that horrific tragedy and for all the innocent people in Gaza who are suffering from what is clearly a humanitarian catastrophe. People in Gaza are starving. The conditions are inhumane."

These comments are receiving international coverage, though I'm a bit concerned by how... blase and unconcerned Israeli media seems to be, though since this particular journal (Times of Israel) claims to be non-partisan, maybe that's why? That said, Al Jazeera is also calling it a 'rare rebuke,' which I would guess is a good sign for the shifting of DC's position on the subject when combined with the recent aid drops.

As usual, I am not a political expert, I just like to gather and share information; please go to actual experts when trying to understand what politicians' actions mean. I do, however, want you to call your reps. Here's a guide on how to do it.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents' house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post.

[storiesoflilies]

Of Angels and Curses

Synopsis - In a world where Angels and Curses are locked in a never ending war, an unsuspecting seraph becomes entangled with the very thing she is fated to eradicate.

Pairings - Curse!Toji Fushiguro x f!Angel!Reader. Curse!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader. Angel!Satoru Gojo x Reader.

Warnings - Descriptions of violence and injuries, eventual smut. Cannibalism(?) (idk it’s Curses eating each other), violence of war. Toji being a lil spicy ;)

A/N - Apologies for the delays with this one! The edits for Chapter 6 and 7 really took it out of me (if you haven’t re-read them yet, then I highly recommend you do!) Anyways, enjoy this chapter! Ko-Fi.

-•-

Chapter 8

It was frightening how easily Y/N slipped back into the dance of war.

But then again, it was second nature to her; a tune to a song that had been sung for a thousand years. It was etched into her very being, she’d heard the words sung from inside her mother’s womb, felt its resonance the moment she was born, and sung it herself when she descended to Earth from Heaven. No Angel, from the dawn of time, had ever escaped the call of this haunting song.

However, the song had a far different tune in Hell than it did anywhere else.

Battles won on Earth had been marvelous victories, where just a bit more sin had been cleansed from the world. But here in Hell, sin multiplied tenfold, especially after a battle was won. Y/N didn’t know why every victory she won felt like a loss. Perhaps it was the sight of her own soldiers feasting on the corpses of the dead, both enemies and comrades, their greed knowing no bounds as black blood gushed forth to make the ground muddy. Perhaps it was the fact she took no prisoners of war, leaving none alive because the severity of torture they would face would be a waste of her soldiers time. Or perhaps it was the persistent feeling that, despite every victory, the end was nowhere near in sight.

Naoya and Jogo’s soldiers proved relentless, pounding against Geto’s borders without pause.

Again.

And again.

And again…

Y/N hadn’t slept in seven days, and how could she? There was no time, and it was far too dangerous to sleep. She hadn’t seen Geto for nearly a month; any and all correspondence was done via Suda, who never rested either as she relayed messages between all Geto’s different battalions throughout Hell. While her brother fought more offensively, assembling his most savage and strongest Curses to directly attack Jogo and Naoya within their own borders, Y/N was charged with defending their own lands. Their enemies could instantaneously appear in the hundreds – if not, tens of hundreds – across various locations.

For this reason, Sukuna’s ring of teleportation had been particularly invaluable for her defense.

It was eerie, almost as if the King of Hell had somehow predicted the war and their strategies. Y/N had been reluctant to even put the ring on, but as soon as she did, sliding it on the exact same finger as Toji wore his, it had shrunk and hugged to the exact size of her finger. She told herself it was a necessity, as there was no way she would have worn it otherwise. Y/N often wondered what Sukuna thought of all this, if he even cared that his Curses were busy slaughtering each other instead of the seraphim. But this wasn’t the first war of Hell, and she guessed that if he hadn’t intervened previously, then it was unlikely he would care now.

Despite when Geto had claimed, even challenged, that this would be the most bloody and violent war that Hell had ever seen.

Y/N often found herself lost in thoughts of what might have been. Amidst the seemingly endless time loop of a fight, her body moved with pure instinct in the dance of death. She didn’t need to use her mind to fight, and so it often wandered to a future that didn’t exist – one where she had become Gojo’s wife, fighting alongside him against the Curses she now fought beside. That would have been a holy and noble war, enacting God’s justice against those that turned against his light. Sometimes, Y/N glanced at her fellow soldiers, and wondered if she would have been forced to kill them in a world where she remained an Angel. A world where Satoru loved her, and she returned it equally. So strong was her daydream that her old soul almost took over, and time seemed to slow as her blade hovered dangerously close to her own soldier’s neck.

Until its maw opened unnaturally wide, and its razor-sharp teeth buried into an enemy Curse’s head. Y/N pulled back sharply, her mind and soul snapping back place as her body recoiled.

How had she not noticed her foe approach her? She would have been deep within its clutches if not for her fellow Curse, whom she had almost contemplated killing.

She cracked her neck with an audible pop and rotated her wrists, feeling the tension release with each twist, and nodded at the Curse who had saved her. It stared at her expectantly like a lost child, haunting vulnerability in its eyes, pink flesh dangling in shredded ribbons between its stained fangs. In one swift motion, Y/N swung her katanas in her hands, and her companion startled out of their momentary trance, returning to the savage dance of the battle around them.

There was something so beautiful about that moment, but Y/N couldn’t place her finger on it.

She wanted to chase that feeling.

If this war was to be so vicious, then Y/N embrace it all and return it tenfold. She readied her body to dance as her soldiers rallied around, completely surrounding her. The notion might have once frightened her, but not anymore. There was nothing to fear, only death and the beautiful song of war.

And then, hellfire started to rain from the sky.

Jogo…

Now this, is what the end is supposed to look like.

“Y/N!”

Miguel’s familiar voice shouted from a distance, causing Y/N to swiftly turn in its direction. In an instant, he was next to her. “Y/N! Suda has just informed me; Geto has begun the siege on the Zenins!”

Her eyes narrowed. “So Jogo sends his soldiers here. He thinks we cannot fend him off with only half an army.”

She surveyed her own force, rapidly formulating strategies in her mind. It was unclear how many Jogo had sent to the border, but one of the Curses was definitely one of his higher-ups, judging by the hellfire. Y/N doubted Jogo himself had come, not yet anyways. Suddenly, a blast of fire erupted outside her circle as a droplet landed beside them, and a Curse screeched in agony.

“Find Curses to form a barrier above us,” Y/N said urgently, shielding her head as another bout of fire erupted near her. “We cannot defend ourselves with this.”

Miguel nodded, sweat beading on his forehead. “And you? Do you need more soldiers?”

She looked at the Curses surrounding her, their gnashing teeth and pounding legs thumping the ground, as if they were her hellhounds eager to be off their leash. Y/N shook her head. “No, these are all I need. Send more to protect the supply outposts. We cannot afford to lose another.”

Miguel nodded and disappeared, leaving Y/N to take charge. She roughly dragged a Curse from the circle closer to her, then placed a hand gently on its head, as if seeking to make amends. She whispered softly, her voice like a soothing prayer that she found Curses responded well to. "Go and find me the one responsible for the hellfire.”

The Curse blabbered nonsense, its cloven feet stomping into the dirt, before speeding off into the fray, barreling into enemies and swinging them into the air with reckless abandon. Y/N raised her katanas over her head and launched herself against their foes. Her soldiers followed closely behind, swept up in the fervor of her charge. Y/N was the relentless tide crashing against the shoreline, the herald of a catastrophic tsunami that would engulf them all.

It was some time before her hoofed Curse returned, it’s battered and bloodied form charging towards her. With a powerful thrust, it impaled into an enemy Curse that Y/N had suspended high into the air with her katanas. The Curse snarled and spat, but she knew to follow its lead. And through the maze of death and corpses it led her, a twisted beacon amidst the darkness and chaos.

Straight towards Jogo’s second in command.

Hanami.

For a split second, Y/N was gripped by sadness. Why had fate forced them to cross paths? Yet, it seemed inevitable; the two generals of the Kings must be the destined to confront each other. Why did God make such things come to pass? Hanami was innocent, a Curse born from the fear of Gods own nature that he himself had created. What was there truly to fear? Hanami embodied nature’s beauty as much as much as its cruelty. Thorns and vines coiled around Y/N’s soldiers, ruthlessly tearing them apart, but she couldn’t shake the memory of her fever dream. The voice that had condemned her to be scratched into pieces. Was it actually a vision from this very moment? Was Hanami to be the orchestrator of her demise, strumming the strings of her death like a harp?

Y/N thought it was what she deserved, to be killed by God’s nature from which she had turned her back.

Hanami seemed to finally notice her, releasing the soldiers entangled within her thorns and spreading out her arms as if welcoming Y/N home. She wanted to cry; both with homesickness and with the sickly sin she was about to commit. For she had no intention of dying, even if it was what she deserved. Yet, tears slipped from her eyes regardless.

“Why do you cry?”

It was Hanami’s voice in Y/N’s head, and it startled her. All the Curses around them had turned to fight each other, paving a makeshift pathway directly between the two of them.

“Do you cry for yourself? For your mate who shall surely grieve you?”

“No, I cry for you.”

“For me? You don’t know me.”

“And I never will, but I would have liked to.”

“I have been charged with your death, and I will not fail as Mahito did. If you must know me, then know this. I do not hate you, I only seek a world where my nature can thrive. You and your brother stand in the way of that.”

How cruel, God why must you do this to me – to her? She would have been a wonderful Angel.

“We should have been on the same side then, because I don’t hate you either.”

With that, they launched themselves at each other through the garden of thorns and ruby roses. Each step brought forth a flurry of petals, swirling around them like a tempest. Y/N's blades sliced through the flowers and roots, yet Hanami countered her with a strength and speed that seemed to match the blooming growth around them.

They collided in a chaotic tangle of petals and gleaming metal, the air thick with the sickening scent of blood and blossoms. The behemoth Curse’s vines and thorns twisted and writhed, entangling Y/N in a deadly embrace, and the ground beneath them trembled with the force of her strikes against the roots. The air crackled with raw energy, as victory remained shrouded in a misty cloud. Through their bond, Y/N felt Toji’s essence urging her on desperately, and she clenched her jaw in determination.

This would end, one way or the other.

-•-

She trudged through from the portal with a slight limp, dragging the full weight of Hanami’s body behind her.

Y/N hated how this was so undignified for Hanami. She deserved a proper burial, or at least a smiting, but Y/N had no more divine energy to spare for that, and Curses would never bury their enemies. This was the way it had to be done, what was expected of her. The village she had teleported to was one of the largest at the border, serving as Y/N’s base to travel between. As the Curses around her stared, taking in the lifeless body of Jogo’s general, they erupted into frantic joy. Y/N was too tired for it, too saddened by what she had done, to find any enjoyment in hearing chants and cheers of her name in reverence.

Her bones ached, and her eyes felt as dry as sand. Y/N knew she needed to sleep, but she could hardly bring herself to do it. Every time she closed her eyes, she was haunted by that nightmarish red color, and a phantom pain bloomed over her face where Mahito had touched her. To sleep felt like a death sentence now, and it was beyond infuriating that their enemies had stolen her very basic right to rest and sleep.

On top of that, Y/N missed Toji fiercely.

The exhausted part of Y/N wished she had taken him up on his offer, because then she would have been at peace and safe. But the rational part of her would never allow it, standing firmly in her resolve not to run away from this war. But still, Y/N felt as if their bond had shifted to something more… intense. It was as crippling as it was exhilarating.

Suda and Miguel were waiting for her outside an old stone house that once belonged to a local villager, but now served as her own personal quarters. Miguel looked exhausted, but still kept up his cool demeanor in front of Suda, whose eyes widened into saucers as she took in Hanami’s body.

Y/N finally stopped dragging the body and let go, and it thumped loudly as it hit the ground. “Bring her head to my brother,” she instructed, making it clear that she would not be maiming any corpses herself.

Suda grimaced further, lip curling in disgust. “Anything else?”

“Tell him not to worry about us, and to focus on the siege. Just let us know when he needs supplies so we can send a group to transport it quickly.”

Suda nodded and looked at Miguel for support, who began to drag Hanami away from Y/N. With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the door, stumbling through and hoping nobody saw her. Hanami’s thorns had cut through parts of her armor, creating deep welts that throbbed and bled. One of the vines had gripped Y/N’s ankle so tightly that it was a struggle to walk straight. She knew she needed to sleep; it would help heal her wounds, and probably her ankle. But the sheer amount of obsidian blood covering her body, red rose petals clinging to it like feathers in tar, was a reminder that sleep was out of reach.

Y/N knelt at the edge of the bed, clasping her hands together as her knees scraped harshly against the floor. Prayer kept her from falling asleep, and from staying awake, fearing an assassin lurking in the night. And in some strange way, she felt as if God was still listening, even all the way down in the depths of Hell.

“Dear God in Heaven,

I ask that you deliver me from this darkness.

Help me cleanse this sin, and bring forth light an-”

“What are you doing?”

She’d never sprung into action so fast in her life. Her body acted on pure instinct, all speed and rage as she crashed directly into the bulky form of the stranger in her room. It was unnerving, frightening, that Y/N hadn’t heard anything approaching her, especially after swearing to herself that nothing was going to sneak up on her again. Her attacker grunted in surprise, and they wrestled for just a moment until Y/N registered Toji’s bright green eyes and familiar shaggy black locks. She had him pinned to the floor, her forearm pressing deep into his neck, and her dagger delicately close to his temple. He was breathing hard, nostrils flared in alarm, and tense.

“It’s me,” Toji whispered, with just a hint of panic in his eyes. “It’s just me.”

Y/N groaned, her head hanging low as her heart pounded, as if it took great effort for the muscle to pump anymore adrenaline through her veins. “I-uh, sorry.”

He tentatively rubbed her arm, the metal still pressing uncomfortably hard into his neck. “S’ok, you want to let go now?”

She awkwardly rushed to get off of him, and extended her hand for Toji to take. He accepted it and pulled himself up, his intense gaze weighing and sizing her up.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked gently, still hesitant, as if she was going to attack him for the slightest thing.

“Tch! It doesn’t matter,” Y/N muttered, moving over to the edge of the bed and sitting in a slump.

“It matters,” Toji started, and she could feel the beginning of a lecture coming on. “When you can’t even hear someone approach you. Why don’t you just sleep?”

“You know why. Just leave it.”

He moved over towards her, sitting beside her, his spread knees touching hers. “You still pray,” he stated, more of an observation than a question.

“Yes,” Y/N replied, the exhaustion creeping back into her voice as the adrenaline left her body. “It helps. It keeps me awake and stops me from thinking.”

“About?”

Flashes of pain.

Burning blood and bones.

Foggy visions of something seen long ago, but never to be remembered.

Y/N cracked her neck suddenly, feeling her bones crunching. “Mahito, I suppose. And Geto fighting so far away.” Toji hummed, and she suddenly felt quite nervous. “You’re not going to… judge me for this, are you?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “For praying?”

“Yes.”

“It’s something you do alone, and if it helps, then why stop? It has nothing to do with me, so I’m not going to judge.”

For some bizarre reason, the anxiety and tension she had been holding in her chest dissipated, and Y/N sniffed as she wiped her nose.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, voice cracking.

Toji looked at her strangely and said in a low rumble. “There’s no need for that. I told you before that I don’t care about Fallen or Angel customs.” He looked away shyly and added, “I just want you to be well.”

She blew out a deep breath and slumped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I will be when this war is over.”

He slowly joined her, their shoulders and knees touching. “And how’s it going? I heard Geto has started a siege on my old home.”

“Oh, yes he has. Mei-Mei?”

“Her crows are everywhere.”

“Even here?”

“Especially here.”

“If you want to see me, then you should just do that. No need to spy, Toji.”

“I’m not spying, just… keeping an eye on you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Toji looked over and gave her a pointed look. “Of course I do.” He looked back at the ceiling and huffed quietly. “Stupid thing to say.”

Y/N snorted, perhaps due to her exhaustion, but also partly due to a giddy nervous part of her soul that came out when Toji was around. She couldn’t help herself, and erupted into a fit of giggles. He looked over at her in amusement, and chuckled lowly along with her. They eventually settled into a comfortable silence, with her head slightly tilted towards Toji’s. Suddenly, he took her hand in his, observing her bloodstained nails and thorn cuts.

Displeasure…

“I killed Hanami,” Y/N confessed, as if bursting forth a deep secret she couldn’t withhold anymore.

Toji nodded, his fingers tracing the lines of her hands. “Good. It will take Jogo some time to re-organize his forces.”

She hummed, quiet tears spilling from her eyes onto her cheeks. “I suppose so, yes.”

He looked at her with concern deep in his emerald orbs, and gripped her hand tighter. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just… really didn’t want to kill her.”

“Why’s that?”

Y/N didn’t really know herself, and so it took her some time before she could finally come up with somewhat of an answer. “She was part of nature. It felt like killing an Angel.”

Toji was moving each of her fingers back and forth. “Hanami was no seraph. You should have heard the things she’s done to Angels.”

“I’m sure it’s not much different to what Angels have done to us.”

“Do you not think you could do it, then? If you ascended and came across a seraph.”

No.

Y/N didn’t need to say it aloud; Toji knew her answer from her soul speaking volumes through the bond. They lay together in hushed stillness, interrupted only by Toji curling her fingers into a closed fist. His hand covered hers, offering silent reassurance.

“You need to sleep,” he finally said gently.

“I know, but I can’t.”

“I’ll stay with you, then.”

“Won’t you get tired?”

“Pft! No.”

“Toji, are you sure?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it. Just sleep, nothin’ll get past me.”

Y/N smiled softly at him, and moved up higher onto the bed, not caring about dirtying the sheets with the stains of battle. Toji stood and pulled over a chair closer to the bed, spreading his legs out and crossing his arms. The flickering candlelight cast a shadow on his chiseled features, adding to his alluring enigma, and she wanted to keep discovering everything about him. His gaze darkened, and she knew that he could sense her desire trickling into the bond like a gentle rain.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Y/N huffed, burying her face into her pillow.

“Like what? I’m supposed to be watching you.”

“Yeah, but not like that.”

“What do you want me to do, stare at the ceiling?”

“No…”

Y/N heard the chair scrape even closer to the bed, and she peeked out from the pillow to see Toji resting his upper body on the bed while still remaining seated on the chair. He nestled his head on his crossed arms, alarmingly close to her face, and closed his eyes.

“Better?” he quipped.

“Mhm.”

“Good, now sleep.”

-•-

Toji’s hair was the first thing Y/N saw when she woke.

The top of his head was directly in front of her, black curtains spilling onto the bed. His arm extended out, as reaching out to try and touch her. He seemed like he was asleep, but Y/N knew he probably wasn’t. This was the most peaceful she had ever seen Toji look, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him alluring. She reached over and softly stroked his hair, and Toji groaned softly.

“You slept well,” he grunted, pushing his head closer to her and leaning into her touch.

Y/N hummed, twirling strands of his hair between her fingers. He moved his head, resting his chin on his arms, green eyes trained watching her toy with his hair.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“You’re beautiful,” Toji remarked, a smirk playing on his lips. She smiled widely, humming again, but more shyly. He took her hand that was playing with his hair and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, igniting a wildfire deep within her.

More…

His green eyes blazed with emerald flames, and he pressed featherlight kisses along each of her fingers. Her breath hitched; nothing else in the world felt real anymore, except the sensation of his lips on her skin.

One.

Two.

“Did you dream of anything?” Toji rumbled, rubbing his cheek into Y/N’s fingers.

Three, four…

She shook her head, looking at him with eyes wide and pupils blown. “No, nothing at all.”

Five.

He moved to her other hand, and Y/N wondered just how far she would let him take her.

One, two.

“So, you want me to stay with you every night?”

Three.

“You couldn’t do that.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you wanted me to.”

Four.

“Of course I do, bu-.”

“Shh! Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Five.

His hands enveloped hers, rubbing them tenderly.

“Toji!”

“What?”

“Toji, you can’t do this every night! And I don’t expect you to either.”

“Y/N, if it means you’re safe and sleeping well, then I’ll do it.”

“But your people need you more than I do.”

“Fucks s-, why won’t you let me help? You won’t stay with me, so why can’t I stay with you?”

Y/N cupped Toji’s face, her thumb stroking his cheek. She craved him; he made her pliable, like clay in a sculptors hands. In that moment, she wanted to give him everything he wanted. There was nobody else more willing to help her pass the time in the night. Who else could say they could fight off her nightmares with his bare hands? Toji was made of smoke and steel, breaking through and sliding between every crack and crevice inside her.

“I want you to, but we can’t indulge this,” she whispered, her tingling lips almost unable to speak. “Not now, not until the war is over.”

Toji groaned with exasperation and fell silent. Y/N could feel him thinking hard, and she indulged in his distraction, exploring his face with the pads of her fingers. She traced his furrowed brows, smoothing them out, moving on to the strong bridge of his nose and his smoky lashes.

“What’s the point of praying?” Toji asked suddenly. “How do you know God even listens?

Y/N’s finger froze, just as she was about to trace the scar on his lip. “It’s just what faith is. There’s something that happens when you pray. You can feel God’s presence watching and listening.”

“So, you can still feel it? Even here?”

“Not anymore, but I think he’s still able to listen. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I like to know how you think. I want to know what you expect from me, because I don’t really understand your… customs.”

Toji stood up, almost reluctantly, and Y/N’s inner voice cried out as he untangled their souls from their intimate moment. “Where are you going?” she whispered, urgency lacing her words.

“I’ll be back here tonight. Wait for me,” he replied, stroking her cheek before disappearing.

Later that night, true to his word, Toji was there waiting for Y/N, but he wasn’t alone. He was with a with a girl, her shaggy cropped hair framing her face, with a thousand and one angry scars crisscrossing every bit of her skin. There was an undeniable connection between her and Toji; their auras mirrored each other, as if they were cut from the same cloth, made of the same blood and flesh.

Y/N hesitated slightly but approached them nonetheless, regaining an air of authority as she walked. Today’s battle had gone awry; Jogo’s soldiers had overwhelmed them completely at a supply outpost. It took both Miguel and Larue to drag her away from the fight, so strong was her desperation to defend their resources. Now, she was left drained and filled with dread, knowing that Geto’s army, as well as her own, had lost even more supplies for their war.

I’m sorry, brother. I will do better.

Concern…

Y/N shook her head at Toji, hoping he understood that now was not the time or place to discuss her feelings. He frowned, seemingly conceding, and introduced the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Maki Zenin.”

She raised an eyebrow at Maki, though not entirely surprised at the revelation of her relation to Toji. “Zenin?”

“Not anymore,” the girl interjected, her tone a touch sour. “Just call me Maki.”

“I see,” Y/N replied flatly, unimpressed with Maki’s tone, and turned her gaze back to Toji. “And why exactly is Maki here?”

“She left the Zenins and joined my court,” Toji answered, looking at Maki with reserved interest. “But I think she would be able to help you win this war.”

“Is that so?” Y/N sized Maki up, assessing her from head to toe. “Why did you leave the Zenins?”

Maki’s demeanor seemed to shatter and harden instantaneously, her voice strained as she muttered through gritted teeth. “They murdered my sister.”

“And you want to join us because you want revenge? This war isn’t your emotional playground.”

“It’s not, no. And I don’t want to join Geto, just you. Fushiguro is the only family I have left, family that I’ve chosen, and you’re his mate. That makes you my family too, and no more of my family is going to be murdered.”

Y/N’s resolve softened, and she glanced at Toji, who regarded Maki with just a slight hint of pride. He turned to her, and said lowly. “She’s not like them. I trust her to fight alongside you and watch over you when I can’t.”

She clicked her tongue in thought and nodded. What was there really to lose? If Toji trusted her, then Y/N would too. “Fine then, Maki. You can join us.”

Relief…

“Maki, give us a moment,” Toji said, and the girl nodded before walking off into the hustle of the barracks.

“You didn’t think I’d let her stay?” Y/N questioned, her gaze following Maki as she was stopped by Larue, who immediately seemed to be trying to provoke her.

He sighed and stood beside her. “I didn’t think you’d let just anybody get that close to you.”

Y/N hummed. “She doesn’t seem like just anyone if you let her stay with you.”

Toji’s eyes darkened, and he muttered. “I know how it feels to be chewed and spat back out by that family.”

Larue poked Maki’s scarred arm, and she swiftly had him pinned to the ground in a headlock. A group of Curses gathered round, egging on the confrontation, their appetite for violence and bloodshed insatiable. This was the brutal hierarchy of their world, where strength was the only clear language understood. Maki could either overcome it, or crumble. Y/N expected her to survive, otherwise Toji’s plan would have failed before it even began.

“She’s fast,” she commented, and Toji nodded.

“Maki’s like me, nearly fights exactly the same. Through her, I may as well be fighting this war with you.” He nudged her gently, his gaze softening. “What happened today?”

Y/N sighed, pinching her nose. “We don’t have the numbers to defend ourselves and our supplies. We’ve lost too many resources already, and Geto needs all the help he can get to wage out the siege.”

She knew that Toji wasn’t going to offer aid. Doing so would risk openly aligning his kingdom with theirs, and subjecting his people to the wrath of two layers. It would plunge nearly all of Hell into chaos, and subject his people to the same suffering that Geto faced.

Nearly all of Hell.

But not all…

“What will you do, then?”

As Maki brought her clenched fist straight into Larue’s throat, the beginning of an idea started to form in Y/N’s head. Toji chuckled beside her, the ghost of his hand next to hers, as he watched his younger cousin establish her dominance. Though he may not have realized it yet, by bringing her to Y/N, Maki’s willingness to switch allegiance opened up new possibilities.

“I think I might go and visit someone.”

-•-

taglist:

@kkhaosxx @tadabzzzbee @gabrielle2013 @angelheavensblog @cyberang3lic

@justmarlen3 @pinknipszz @moonwingeys @luzzbuzz @hornabbyyy

@mitsuyasblackwifey @chosolover736 @spookyjyestha @elisqq @sillyrings978

@littlekittensoftpaws93 @starryluv4 @99k4manii @maid4nanno @limerence08

@iloveitwhentheyrunnn @kamoslut @rubyrose2014 @hannah5max @transparent-nature

@katsvgou

[getvalentined]

FF7 Fandom PSA

This is not a callout post, this is a warning about a genuinely dangerous abuser who uses fandom spaces to acquire victims.

Apparently my abusive ex is ingratiating himself into fandom spaces again, so if you're in the FF7 fandom please keep an eye out for someone calling himself Pix or Pixeled.

The details of what he did to me specifically are available in a post from almost exactly two years ago, readable here. Other people have shared their own stories, but I don't have the energy to dig up all of them. Trigger warnings for gaslighting, emotional abuse, violent threats, forced isolation, manipulation, and more that I'm definitely missing.

Known usernames:

Instagram: midgardsomrnights, pixeledartsy, okgoosefus, pixeledpalace

AO3: pixeled, pixeledxxx

tiktok: pixrexpen, gaywrathlet

FFXIV: sarielperedhil (on Brynhildr)

ko-fi: pixrexpalace

Other: pix pendragon, pixeled pendragon, pixrexpendragon

Some of these are current, most of them are not; he's no longer active here or on Twitter that I'm aware of, so I'm not referring to his usernames there, but he uses some combination of parts from these for his usernames everywhere so they followed the same theme.

This is not "fandom drama," this is a sincere warning to anyone in his orbit to be careful and be safe. Please love yourself more than he wants you to.

With that in mind, there are more personal details under the cut, discussing the fallout of going public with his abuse and more of his behavior; no screenshots on these because it's years in the past, not all of the related accounts and spaces still exist, and back when I was first gathering evidence I had to stop before it lapsed into the territory of emotional self-harm.

Same trigger warnings as above, plus racism, (implied) sexual exploitation, sexual manipulation, and discussion of Body Dysmorphic Disorder.

I want to be very clear that I was not the first person to go through this, I was just the first to go public afterward. I have lost relationships with people I thought were friends by doing so, and actually been referred to as abusive in response to my initial thread on Twitter letting people know what he'd done. I've had people who used his treatment of me as an excuse to join in with hurting me go on to co-opt my abuse to make themselves look like victims, claiming that we were best friends until he drove us apart—or worse, to use him as a complete stand-in for their own behavior, implying or outright stating that he forced them to isolate me from friends and fandom activities and treat me like shit, all while these people have me blocked on every possible platform where I could reconnect with them.

Pix was the Bad Guy of early 2022 on FF7 Twitter, and while he deserved the title, not everything everyone said about him was true. Not everything everyone said about me was true, either, but people tend to take anything connected to fandom as "drama," even when it involves literal abuse.

One thing I never told anyone except my closest friends is that Pix drove me to the verge of suicide multiple times. He put up videos insulting me to be "funny" and got friends laughing along, when I asked him to stop teasing me all the time he exploded and said that he was allowed to express himself however he wanted and if I had a problem then I should break up with him so he could finally kill himself guilt-free, he told me that he wasn't going to placate me anymore by saying "I love you," he told me in public spaces to shut up because I didn't know anything. He used racist slurs against Asian people behind my back and told everyone who called him on it that I'd told him it was all right, leading to a continuing belief among some circles that I have some deep internalized racism toward my own fucking ethnicity.

He told me that his mother saw me as a whore and a homewrecker, because I'd seduced him away from his boyfriend of eight years—in spite of the fact that I told him outright I did not want a romantic relationship with him because he was already in one, and I wouldn't be party to cheating. When I went public with what he did, he claimed that I pressured him into a romantic relationship, neglecting to mention that he'd been pushing for one almost since we met and that I'd shot him down because he was already with someone else. He said that I'd forced him to break up with his boyfriend, and seemed to be implying that I'd somehow sexually exploited him because I'm a cisgender lesbian and he identified as an aro/ace trans man at the time we broke up. When we got together, he identified as a bisexual nonbinary person.

To be completely honest, though, his orientation and gender identity doesn't even fucking matter with regards to the implication that I exploited him because we never had any form of sexual contact—unless you want to count RP, which I don't, and if I did I would be calling him a cheater because I was not his only RP partner.

To be completely clear, we were in a long distance relationship, thousands of miles apart, and we had no sexual contact. We never sexted, we never had phone sex, we never even exchanged dirty pictures. Our relationship had no sexual element whatsoever. He eventually told me in no uncertain terms that if/when we got married, he wasn't going to sleep with me because he didn't have a sex drive anymore due to trauma, and that since I loved him so much I'd have to be happy with that.

He would remind me of this when my Body Dysmorphic Disorder began to relapse constantly from the amount of stress he had me under, because my experience with the condition is rooted on my lack of physical femininity and leads me to see myself as completely sexually repulsive. When I was triggered and trying to untie the knot in my chest that made me want to throw up at the thought of my own body, he would remind me that I didn't have to worry about being too ugly for sex with him, because he was never going to fuck me anyway. That it didn't matter if I was disgusting, because he found all bodies disgusting, so really I was lucky to have him. He didn't even care that I was disabled and that my arms and legs are too long, that my joints slip out of place all the time, that the way I have to move sometimes to keep from hurting makes me look "weird and stupid." I was so lucky to have him, because even though he was very aware of all those things, he didn't actually care. He wasn't going to fuck me anyway.

The last Christmas card he sent me literally had the words "You deserve a high-five!" printed on the front, and on the reverse he'd written something along the lines of "okay but you know I'd be sure to miss and slap you in the face, sorry not sorry."

He made my life hell in every possible way, and people said it was drama because we met through fandom—and that I deserved it, honestly, since I was so fucked up and he was such a good person for even caring about me in the first place. I deserved it, people said, since I turned around and stabbed him in the back after he'd done so much for me for the years we were together. It was just fandom drama, they said, and I was just thriving off the social capital it allegedly earned me.

And now he's back and making new friends, but it's fine because this all happened years ago, and everyone with a brain should be able to see that it's just fandom drama. But it's not. It never was. Don't let him convince you otherwise.