#it felt good to indulge old passions with a friend

[thelastpilot]

How many images will tumblr let you add, let me see.

Guess what @tides-miraculous and I did today~~

It would be easy to poke fun after all this time but honestly, I really enjoyed myself with the Miraculous Ladybug Movie. Nino and Alya had so much more screentime than I had any right to expect, we got a whole new personality trait/skill for Nino (skateboarding) and even had streamlined DjWifi goodness, what more could I have even asked for? Plus, the animation was genuinely incredible and Gabriel finally had some tasty ass nuance. I kept saying to Tides "Finally, some good food girl."

Sure there were some things I coulda done without, but overall I had fun and it was just so fun to see the boy again after so many years of not watching any of the canon content. It was essentially all worth it for him to have one line to say "You know I'm here for you, right?"

In that moment, i knew he was my son again.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Laswell and Nik watch Price play a Rugby match. Part 2.

cw: brief mention of injury, hand job right at the end.

Look, I just love the idea that Nik, Laswell and Price are good friends outside of work. I want to write more of it. All my work is self-indulgent but this is PURE self indulgence.

The plastic chairs were damn uncomfortable and Laswell was pretty sure she could have managed an extra pair of socks inside her boots, but the atmosphere was contagious. Jubilant, loud; people stamping their feet and blowing on their hands in the cold, old comrades meeting again after a long time, families gathered to see fathers, sons, husbands, play.

Plus, she had promised, hadn't she? And seeing her long term friend do something that didn't have the threat of a bullet mixed in was an opportunity she felt she deserved as much as he did.

"Here, Laswell."

A plastic cup of beer appeared in front of her face between the large fingers and thumb of her companion for the day, and she took it in two gloved hands. "Thanks, Nik."

"It tastes very bad," he informed her as he swung his leg over the chair next to her and fell into it heavily, taking a swig of his own with a grimace. "Da. Like barman pissed into a cup."

"Really selling it to me," she chuckled before taking a sip, nose wrinkling. "That is... quite the aftertaste."

Nik shrugged. "It is all part of the experience, and," he ferreted through his jacket, lifting his ass off the seat, and pulled out his hip flask, "ha." He offered it to her first, to which she shook her head, before he unscrewed the cap with his thumb and dumped a generous helping into the top of his drink. "How long?"

"They headed in from their warm up about ten minutes ago."

"Ah, he looked good, no?"

Laswell nodded, her eyes crinkling with her smile as she noted the blush of pride on Nik's face. John Price had, indeed, looked good. He had been rosie-cheeked and energetic through all the drills despite the cold, keeping up with the younger members of his team without any apparent issue.

And, perhaps most importantly of all, he had been laughing and grinning throughout, exchanging banter, and pausing to talk with someone he recognised in the stands, only ending the conversation with a handshake and bump of the shoulders when his coach - a Major something or other, according to the introductory leaflet - bellowed at him.

It was John's boyish glee that had caught Nik's attention more than all the tight woven shorts around thick thighs, the bulging biceps and full chests stretching through Underarmour base layers, and she had watched his eyes blow wide as he fidgeted in his seat, desperate clearly to be closer and bask in John's happiness rather than observe it from afar. She'd sent him for the beer to cool off.

It was an interservice friendly. Navy versus army. A pre-season warm up before the international competition began and the British armed forces would field a composite team of the very best. "Will they win this one?" Laswell asked, chancing another sip of beer and regretting it the moment it touched her tongue.

"Da. The Navy have uh, what to say, fast backs, but their forwards have bad... set pieces."

"Did you understand a word of what you just said?"

"Nyet." Nik grinned. He loved listening to John talk about the game and absorbed every iota of information he could to share in that passion. That didn't mean he was any better than Laswell in understanding what the hell was going on.

"Do you think he'll be selected for the internationals?"

"He has already been asked for his availability."

"Of course he has. Annoyingly, I don't think I've ever encountered an activity that John Price doesn't excel at."

Nik huffed a laugh. "He is an overachiever. Although, not such a good cook. I have never seen someone turn custard into rubber before."

"Aha! A weakness. I will store it for later use."

They lapsed into a momentary pause and watched the crowd find their seats. Nik checked his phone, and then nudged Laswell for a selfie to send to John. They toasted their crappy beers and Laswell conjured her cheesiest grin with a thumbs up. Nik sent it without filters, because he was brutal like that.

Nik (10.15): [image.jpeg]

JP (10.17): good-looking pair of muppets 👍

Nik (10.18): are you feeling ok?

JP (10:19): hammies tight but physio happy.

Nik (10:19): I will help with that later

JP (10:20): countin on it 👌💦😜

"You better not be sexting while I am right next to you, Nikolai."

Nik smirked at her and shook his head once. "He is fine. Nervous."

"You got 'nervous' from that?"

"Da."

"Nervous for a Rugby match but doesn't even bat an eye at leaping from a Hercules into an active firefight with a single page's worth of intel..."

"He feels out of practice. He missed the start of the tournament due to work."

"Ah. Story of our lives, Nik." They missed so much living due to work. Kate had missed the birth of both of her nephews, her brother-in-law's wedding, her sister's fortieth birthday party. So many big life events that would never repeat. But that's what made things like this special. It may be a forces match, but John was choosing to do it. He enjoyed it. Sharing in that enjoyment, that moment of happiness, that was special too.

"They are coming," Nik said like an excited boy on Christmas morning, having spotted the players at the mouth of the changing rooms. He stood with the rest of the crowd and Laswell rolled to her feet too, joining in the cheers and clapping as two lines of outrageously built men jogged out onto the pitch.

Nik and Laswell stood in respectful silence as the band played through the national anthem and the two teams lined up to bray along with it, hands on chests. The British national anthem was a damn drone, but at least it allowed everyone to pull it off. They sat down after the applause, when the two captains met with the referee in the middle of the pitch for the coin toss.

John tried to make the glance into the stands discreet, but the smile when he spotted Nik and Laswell - due to Nik's not so discreet full-armed wave - was difficult to hide. Hands on his hips, he looked down, scuffing the grass with his boot bashfully before turning to listen to the referee outline his expectations.

Sometimes she forgot about the sixteen year age gap between them; he was so brilliant at it all, so driven, so focused and relentless, he was her peer and her equal, but she had already been at the game for twelve years when he enlisted at 16. Whatever she felt in that moment at seeing John so pleased by their presence, his cheeks dimpling in that full-hearted grin he had, felt annoyingly maternal. She necked some beer.

Nik leaned in. "He will choose to receive."

"Mhm."

"Laswell," Nik said, feigning shock as she hid her smirk against her plastic pint.

The navy took the ball with them, the ref jogged backward with his hand in the air, and the two teams lined up. John was the 'fly half', which Kate understood to mean he was the decision maker of the team. It required effective leadership and communication to connect the forwards with the backline and navigate the enemy defence. The perfect role for one Captain Jonathan Price if ever there was one. Which explained the bright yellow captain's band wrapped around his bicep, clashing with the green and white jersey with its big number 10 on the back.

A single peep of the whistle marked the start of the game and the navy's number 10 put their boot to the ball, the rest of the team surging down the pitch behind it. One of the backline received the ball and immediately shipped it out towards the wings to begin making progress in the opposite direction.

The difference between American football and Rugby had always struck Laswell; the ball was the same-ish shape, there were set pieces for different scenarios, but that's where the similarity ended. Rugby was about keeping play moving. It was a relentless, brutal battle down the pitch, with hits that made her teeth shake and no padding between bodies and the impact.

The navy was playing aggressively, forcing the army's backline to reset. Every time the army's scrum half dug the ball out of the breakdown - which was what Laswell understood the huge pile of bodies on the floor to be called - John was there to receive it. He was agile, twisting, turning, everywhere at once; a testament to his own hard work to maintain his fitness and mobility.

One of the navy forwards was too slow off the mark and slammed into John once he'd passed the ball, bringing him to the ground hard with a shoulder to the gut. Nik was halfway out of his chair on instinct, and Laswell reached out a hand for his forearm. "It's part of the game, Nik. An honest mistake." The ref blew the whistle. Free kick.

John rolled to his feet, tugging the legs of his shorts down from the creases of his thighs before plucking the ball from the ground. He chose to kick into touch and gathered his team before the lineout. They hunkered down, listening intently. Laswell could hear his voice in her mind, imagined his tone, and when she glanced off to Nik and saw the look on his face, she knew he was doing the same.

John set the backline, barking over his shoulder and gesturing with his arm to get them in position, once he was happy, he indicated to the scrum half to take the throw in. The ball sailed over the heads of the two lines and found the hands of the army's flanker, who knocked it with practised ease into John's waiting palms. It sailed down the line quick, John sprinting behind the line. The navy thought they were going for a try at the wing and sent their players down to meet it. John cut in halfway and took the ball through a gap created by their miscalculation.

The hulking opposition forwards couldn't catch him once he had the space to open up with long strides, and he pushed one optimistic player off him like he was nothing. Laswell heard Nik breathe something in Russian, leaning forward in his chair, only to leap up the moment that ball touched the try line. She stood with him to clap and he threw an arm around her shoulder jubilantly. "He is so good, did you see? Like a jet, I cannot--" she missed the rest, because he was too busy celebrating, half his beer splashing onto the ground.

An orange five appeared on the scoreboard at first, and then John turned it into a seven when he kicked the ball over the middle bar between the two posts. "A conversion, Laswell," Nik informed her, toasting the scoreboard as it ticked up.

John's try seemed to turn the tables. Now that the army's side had seen the defence clinically dissected, it was like they were more confident in picking those holes. Seven turned to fourteen, fourteen to twenty-one. The navy managed to land a try shortly before half time but their fly half, John's junior by about fifteen years, missed the conversion kick, leaving the scoreboard at twenty-one to five.

Nik topped up their drinks while the two teams disappeared off the pitch, and returned with a flushed face after a suspiciously long time away. "You snuck into the changing rooms, didn't you?" She asked as she took the beer.

"Da," Nik confessed, shifting in his seat. "I did not stay long. He had a briefing to do."

"Of course he did," Laswell said, chuckling. No doubt Nik had gone to admire John in his kit up close; all that clinging lycra and polyester around John's frame. For a man, John had one hell of an ass. She was surprised Nik wasn't foaming at the mouth every time John bent over to receive the ball from the breakdown.

The second half started shortly after Nik's return. The army started with the ball this time, kicking it into the second half and chasing after it to shut down the offence before they could make ground.

The navy had apparently had what John would call a bollocking, because they were back to their form of the first twenty minutes, hitting hard and punishing gaps. Nik frowned as John was tackled for the third time in ten minutes. "They are targeting him," he growled.

"Oh yeah," a man to their left chimed in, "reckon their skipper told 'em to break that one's legs."

"Nik, it's trash talk," Laswell warned as the big Russian suddenly coiled with tension. "They will try to close down any advantages. He's one of them."

She, perhaps, spoke too soon, because the next hit made John stay down a bit longer, and he disappeared under a pile of bodies that dwarfed even him. When he finally got to his feet, there was blood streaming from his eyebrow. The ref blew his whistle and pointed at John's face, then the sidelines. He didn't even argue his case, chucking his armband to the scrum half's hand before jogging over to the medic, replaced by a sub.

Nik had been on his feet throughout, and now tracked John to the sidelines with his eyes, no doubt scrutinising his gait for abnormality. "It is superficial," Nik said, perhaps convincing himself not to vault the stands. "He will go back on."

"After being kicked in the head?"

Nik frowned, arms folded over his chest. He wasn't happy about it either.

As predicted, John returned to the pitch at the next blow of the whistle, his head wrapped in bandages and tape. The army had put up a valiant defence while he'd been off, and did so for the rest of the game, allowing only one more try to sneak through and returning it threefold. The final score at the end was forty-two to twelve in favour of the army, and the boisterous celebrations on the pitch carried on through the sportsmanlike cheers exchanged by both teams, followed by handshakes and cheers for the ref.

Nik and Laswell picked their way through the stands to the main bar to wait for John to emerge from the changing rooms. Another thing she quite liked about this sport in particular was that the players cleaned up in shirts and ties before they were allowed out. She had thought it was a services thing, a hang up about order and respectability, but no, they even observed the rule at club level. It was about respecting the clubhouse, the fans, the game and each other.

It took John about thirty minutes to arrive, his white shirt and green tie neatly pressed, wool trousers belted at his waist. Nik was on him in seconds, one hand taking his jaw, tilting his head left and right, to inspect the cut through his eyebrow. "Nik," John said through a soft laugh, "s'olright, been checked over."

"For concussion?"

"Yeah. Just a stud scrape. Nothin' dramatic."

Nik's hand slipped around the back of John's neck and Laswell could see the desperate desire to kiss his partner flash over his face, but in the end he only nodded and drew away. She sighed. So much had changed, and yet so much stayed the same.

"Kate, you made it," John said, that Quokka-smile in place and big arms enclosed her in a hug.

"Oh, I was in the area." She returned the embrace and then pushed the pint of bitter into his hands. "Well-earned, I think."

"Huh, yeah, 'm fuckin' knackered," he admitted, wiping the foam from his moustache after he took a sip. "A few of the lads want to do a crawl through the local bars, but I'm gonna turn in. Monday's chocka."

"I don't blame you," Laswell said, hopping onto a stool. "I thought you'd play soccer, you know."

"Rugby is a gentleman's sport and the captain is a gentleman." Nik sat next to her, his elbows on the bar. "Soccer is for thugs and idiots, no?"

"Hoohoo, shit, don't let Simon hear you say that, Nik," John said, leaning his hip against the bar at Nik's side. "You'd have to sleep with one eye open."

"So, the Liverpool scarf is just for show." Laswell recalled the tattered old thing hanging up in a frame in John's office. It sat right next to his medals of valour and a photograph of the 141 in Belgrade.

"Naw, once a Red always a Red."

"That means something very different where I am from," Nik said lightly.

Laswell chuckled low in her throat and John threw his arm around Nik's shoulder for a squeeze. They stayed until the man of the match was announced and, unsurprisingly, John had been selected by the team for his try.

He received the award in the same understated way he did his medals; a thank you to his team and to the panel, then 'all the best' before heading back to his drink. Once again Laswell watched Nik swallow the desire to demonstrate the affection bubbling beneath his skin. She was glad for Nik that John would require plenty of care this evening; an opportunity to dote to his heart's content.

Despite the generally positive experience, she was glad to flop into the backseat of Nik's hired Audi, watching the streets of London flit by as they left the pitch behind. By the time they dropped her off at the hotel, John was struggling to keep his eyes open, slumped low in the front seat, his arms folded tightly across his chest as if to hold himself together. She exchanged a look with Nik in the rearview mirror, the creases around his eyes betraying his knowing grin. John was clinging on for her benefit. Sweet, but unnecessary.

She opened the door but leaned forward to squeeze his shoulder before stepping out. "Well done today."

"Cheers," he said sleepily, one of his big paws parting over the top of her palm. "Thanks again. 'ppreciate it."

"Any time, John. I enjoyed myself. See you soon."

She patted Nik's shoulder too and he touched her wrist in return, before she left them to head to a well-earned rest in their Premier Inn. Hopefully a kiss too, or Nik might just implode.

--

Nik managed to convince John into a bath with the promise of a glass of whiskey. Without it, he would be stiffer in the morning and not in a way they could enjoy.

Once John was settled amongst the bubbles, Nik sat at the side with a pillow beneath his rear, one hand in the water to stroke whatever part of John happened to be near, while the other held a novel open against his thigh.

"Thanks for comin' today," John said in the comfortable quiet. His voice was soft, his eyes lidded. He had sunk lower, the waterline lapping at his collarbone.

"Of course. I enjoyed watching you in your element, John."

"It was the... uh, first time someone's come t' see me play."

Nik let the novel fall closed and twisted, resting his chin on the edge of the tub. "Have you not invited the sergeants, or the lieutenant?"

"Ah, they have better things to do 'n come and watch me play rugger at the weekend."

"I think you underestimate how much your team loves and admires you."

John hummed in the way he did when he wanted to argue but knew it was a losing fight. Nik got that noise more and more these days when it came to John's perception of other's opinions of him. He had an accurate and pragmatic understanding of his own abilities when it came to work, but that didn't seem to translate into a sound understanding of how much he was admired. The hum was a step forward towards acceptance, in Nik's opinion.

"You will invite them next time."

"Oh will I?"

"Da. And they will feel honoured by the invitation."

"What if I get my arse kicked? Almost did today."

"Then they will be there to pick you back up again, as they are in the field."

John fell silent, heaving a sigh through his nose. Nik gathered his legs underneath him and slipped his second hand in the water to caress the aching body within it. He ran the backs of his fingers over John's chest, down the valleys of his abdomen to the v-shape dips of his hips, and finally to his thighs.

"How are these?"

"Sore. They'll be fi--mm, Nik...'

"Is good?"

"Mmhm."

Nik rubbed his thumbs in firm circles, feeling knots and tension pop beneath them, and watched John's expression melt back into relaxation. He moved from one leg to the other, working his way up slowly across the large expanse of muscle to John's hip.

"Enjoyin' yerself?" John asked, an eye popping open to study Nik's face.

"Da. Watching your legs today was... hm, it made me want to spread them in the shower and demonstrate my admiration."

If it wasn't for the warm water, John would have flushed, but Nik was content by the shy smile he got instead. "In front of the entire team, eh? Filthy git," John mumbled.

"If you would enjoy others watching me make love to you, then I would consider it."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," John said, scrubbing a hand across his face. His body betrayed him though, because the mere thought of it has caused his prick to harden enough to peak just above the surface. Nik tickled up the inside of John's thighs to his sac, fingertips stroking the heavy weight of it in the warm water. John's knees tilted out to give Nik access and he reached for Nik's chin with one wet hand, guiding him down for a kiss.

Nik kissed greedily as he played gently between John's legs, revelling in the vulnerability of his lover's exhausted body surrendering to the tenderness he offered. His tongue swept into John's mouth, licking the taste of whiskey from his teeth, the tip brushing the ridges of his pallet, sucking his tongue, his lips, before sinking lower to kiss his neck.

John made soft noises of pleasure, his heels skidding across the ceramic of the tub, damp fingers winding into Nik's hair. In the warmth of the water, his skin was soft, sensitive, and Nik knew how to touch him. Had spent many a night learning what made John moan and sigh, how his entire body was a map of erogenous zones desperate for a gentle hand that Nik was more than willing to provide.

When Nik encircled John's prick, stroking slowly back and forth, John let out a pleased sigh. "Fuck, Nik... Dunno whether I have the energy."

"You do not need it. Let me look after you."

"Would prefer t' give as good as I get. Ahh, fuck, Nik..."

Nik soaped his hand using the pump at the side of the bath and returned to John's eager prick. Tired he may be, but his body yearned for Nik as much as Nik's did for him. Nik kept a firm pressure, squeezing a little former on the upstroke, precum splashing over the edge of his fist. "John, you are so beautiful... You are so desperate for me."

"Yeah, Nik, haa, ah, god fuck, I'm close already..."

"Come for me then. Do not hold back. I will have you tomorrow, spread your legs and take what I want..."

"Fuck..."

"I know you wanted me to take you in that changing room, your blood running hot--"

"Ahh, Nik, fu--"

"--I know you wanted to touch yourself in the shower, thinking of me--"

"Mm, yeah, yeah, please, Nik..."

"I know what you need, I know how you ache for it, how you want to be filled by my cock and fucked well."

John latched onto the edge of the tub as he came, his thighs and stomach pulling tight, head pushing back as his cock pulsed in Nik's hand. Nik slowed his stroke, milking out the aftershocks as John gasped.

Nik kissed him lightly on the lips as his pleasure faded to throbbing embers, releasing his softening prick to rinse his hand. "Beautiful."

"Just nutted to dirty talk. Not sure beautiful's really the word."

"You do not see yourself as I do," Nik replied, admiring the brightness in those blue eyes, the ruffled hair, the flush. Beautiful was too empty a word for the majesty of John Price, but it would suffice for now. "Time for bed, John. Come."

Nik helped John out of the bath, teasing him about his shaking legs as he helped dry him with a second towel. John slipped naked into the soft, clean sheets Nik wasn't complaining; it would be easier to tease him open tomorrow morning. He was asleep and snoring softly before Nik had even switched the lamp off, the pillow clutched under his head.

Before Nik could sleep, he worked himself over to a swift and gutless orgasm that would allow him to sleep, knowing full well he would be satisfying himself in John come the morning. He fell asleep admiring the peaceful lines of John's face, eternally grateful he had the honour of calling John his.

[mangohgeckoh]

Chemical Reaction (SilcoxOc!reader)

Chapter 2

“The Good Ole Times”

(Part 3 of 3)

-

Vander and Silco were not surprised to see their close friend singing on the counter of the bar, no, it was when a cloak was chucked at them from across the bar. “OuR LoVE~” Felicia’s drunk voice rang throughout the bar. The cape slowly fell off the brother’s faces to reveal an interesting sight: the newest addition to their ally list was also hammered, laying on the bar next to the dancing woman.

“‘Atta girl!” Vander boomed. Even though he was caked in coal and soot he had no issue sprinting across the bar to indulge in some late night-debauchery. Silco stood feeling a headache coming on as he watched helplessly as his friends got drunk on the bar’s already limited stock. “IS a BuRniNG foUntaiNN~” Felcia’s heavily hammered singing continued, Vander only supported as a backup singer. Ophelia laughed at Vander’s singing voice and turned her head as her neck started to get stiff on the wooden counter. Her eyes met Silco’s, but her drunk demeanor made her smile at him, thinking his scowl was the most funniest thing in Runeterra.

–

As months passed, the four of the trencher’s relationships grew. Ophelia grew comfortable with bar-friends so much so that she allowed her friends from camp to tag along for a few evenings. Of course, those not of age were not allowed to drink. The boy she had picked up from the streets months prior became particularly attached to one of the regulars at the bar, a young man named Benzo. The boy with white hair was always sitting on the countertop near where Benzo was. He often tried showing Benzo his new trinkets that he’d make from scrap metal. They were crude, yes, but there was a brilliance tied to them. Ophelia kept an eye on the young man with the boy he rescued, but it was when the boy shared his name with Benzo, a feat that Ophelia nor her camp friends could obtain, that she realized he had found a home.

It wasn’t easy letting Ekko go with Benzo, but the more she became acquainted with him the more she saw their father-son bond grow. She felt honored that she was able to help Ekko find a new home.

-

It had been a year now since the two families had intertwined. A tradition had well been solidified by now, every Monday, Friday and Sunday Ophelia would leave for The Last Drop to meet up with Vander, Felicia and Silco. Benzo and Ekko would always leave earlier, Benzo would argue it was because Ekko had a bedtime, but since Benzo was the oldest, Vander had always joked that it’s because he is getting old. Unless Ophelia brought anyone with her, it was just the four at the bar.

The Last Drop increased in popularity as time went on. Vander would become better at mixing drinks, allowing for more orders and money into the bar. Though, it was on the rare occasion that one of the late nights that Ophelia visited would be slow. Those were her favorite as it allowed more time for talking. Vander knew her long enough that he would eventually let her in on his real plans. “Sure, having a bar where Zaunites could mingle is great,” He’d say. “But I want to show Topsiders what true community can be.” He’d speak with such passionate vigor that Ophelia would be drawn in. Silco, who was always quiet during her visits, only talked the most when the subject of Zaun was brought into conversation.

One night, Felicia was working late at the mines while Vander and Ophelia had been talking about this Nation of Zaun when a few patrons came in, leaving Silco and Ophelia at a table on the side of the bar. This was the first time Ophelia ever heard Silco talk freely without being prompted to start a conversation. He shared indepth plans of Zaun. His Zaun. The plans were more ambitious than Vanders but nonetheless aligned. The way Silco spoke about his dreams was so encapsulating. It was like being told a beautiful fairytale, she couldn’t help but rest her chin on her palms while he pointed at a map of the Undercity. He had just finished his rant about the difficulty of crossing the bridge Piltover had built when Ophelia pointed to something on the map. “Don’t those gutters lead out to the Topside's sewers? It isn’t ideal but that may help to get a lay of the land.”

He bit his lip. “Gutters?” Ophelia was across the table so she went to stand next to Silco to make sure she was remembering the location right. She nodded, “Yes, I used to use these to get into the markets. The sewers are a network under the city.” Silco’s eyes sparkled. “I see…” He was silent the rest of the night, making Ophelia focus on Vander’s gang brawl stories.

-

Silco’s chest puffed up at her gasp. “Brilliant.” Ophelia’s ears were honed in on Silco’s newest contraption he had placed on their table. He and his brother had gotten into an argument that, from what she gathered, was about a dispute about Piltover. Across the room, Vander and Felicia were conversing at the bar.

-

It was a special night. Vander had reached enough patrons exactly a month ago to be able to quit his job at the mines while Silco had finally mapped out Piltover’s secret entrances from the gutters Ophelia mentioned weeks prior. It was a night to celebrate, Vander closed the bar early, of course to the annoyance of his many regulars. Ophelia sat a few seats away from Silco at the bar, despite it being a special occasion he was consumed in paperwork that we would rather die than putting off. There was one more missing though, but she wasn’t gone for long.

“I hate the mines!” Vander, Silco and Ophelia turned to see Felicia groaning, slamming the door. Usually she strides on up to the bar to get hammered but this time she was attracted to Vander’s shiny new jukebox. Ophelia giggled and turned back to the counter she sat at, taking a sip of her whiskey. She was way past being comfortable with drinking.

Her ears twitched.

‘Coin.’

‘Disk moving.’

Soon a familiar song started to play from behind them, making Ophelia groan due to the drunken memories associated with the song. Though, she did noticed Vander’s eyes lingering on Felicia. “What’s the occasion?” He asked while cleaning a glass from earlier. Felicia chuckled. “Can’t a girl be in the mood for a familiar song?” Silco was still focused on his work as Vander responded. “Not this lady,” The towel he had used to clean the cup returned to his shoulder. “And not this song.” He pointed out. Ophelia giggled and watched Felicia dance her way over to the bar. Vander quickly poured four glasses-worth of the most expensive liquor he sold.

Felicia sat at the bar, joining her friends. Taking a breath, she began. “Tonight, a hair-brained scheme these three bozos cooked up to turn a daint crack in the earth into a thriving healthy community became a reality.”

Vander smirked, eyes twinkling. “Tonight, aye?” He adjusted his position behind the bar, shooting Silco a look. “You hear that, bozo two?” Silco took a spoonful of porridge, turning to Vander. ”We made it, we’re done.”

“No,” Silco shook his head, grabbing his glass. “You're sadly mistaken,” He grinned at his friends. “I’m bozo number one.”

Vander raised his glass, proud of their accomplishments. “A night of revelations.” The friends toasted to that, but something was wrong. Ophelia could sense it.

Felicia didn’t drink when her friends did, rather, she squeezed her cup nervously. “I’m knocked up.” There was a long awkward silence that dawned over them. Ophelia cut the tension as Vnader and Silco processed the news. “How?”

Felicia scoffed, giving Ophelia an aggravated look. “Well when two trenchers love eachother very much…” Ophelia rolled her eyes but Vander finally regained himself. “How do you know?” He asked, pouring Felicia a cup of juice, replacing her old glass. Silco readjusted himself so he could sit closer to comfort his friend.

Sighing, she responded. “Wasn't really part of my plan…but guess that's everything when you're living week to week” Ophelia nodded solemnly. It was tough living in the Undercity, everyone is constantly trying to survive another day. Vander began to look concerned. “What did Connol say?”

A shade of guilt covered her face. “I haven’t told him.” Ophelia could tell that her friend was struggling, she couldn’t imagine what Felicia was going through. ”Working up the nerve.” Felicia continued on.“I don't know anything about kids. I get sweaty being alone with one” Her eyes looked as if they could start crying at any moment. Sensing this, Vander held her hand. “Hey. You're going to be a great mother.”

She shook out of his grasp. “Shut up. I’m not ready for that. I started trying to come up with a name and it hits me that this one word is a decision shes gonna live with her whole life.” She sighed. “I can't protect her all the shit down here and work out how to be a parent at the same time.” Suddenly, a vixen-like smirk grew from her mouth. “Then I realized I don't have to.”

“Hm,” Vander took a sip of his whiskey. “Why’s that?”

She leaned in as if she was about to tell a secret. “Because the second I told you, I put you on the hook.” Ophelia exchanged looks with Silco, Vander gulped. “You three are going to figure this Zaun thing out.” Silco gave her a look of awe as she explained. “I don’t care if you have to carve it out of bedrock and cover it in blisters.” She pointed at her friends, giving them a light threat. Ophelia felt something boil within her with how Silco looked at his friend. But she decided to push it away, her friend’s needs were more important.“ You're not allowed to fail anymore. For her. For me.” Felicia finished, narrowing her eyes at Vander who nodded. “What's the point if we can't raise an ankle biter or two?”

Silco chuckled. “To Zaun, then.” He raised his glass and met Ophelia’s eyes. “Blisters and bedrock.” The other three raised their glasses and toasted. “Blisters and bedrock.” After taking a drink, the bar became quiet again. Until Vander hummed. “I’ve always liked the name violet.”

-

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 10

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none. idiots in love

notes ; ITS YEARNING HOURS BAYBEE ‼️ for the first time ever, a bit of childe’s POV, wowie zowie!! also a bit of a cheesy chapter LMFAO, it’s just these two dinguses “reaching” the realization that they want each other so bad, it makes them look stupid.

also a smidgen hint at the end towards the next phase of this dumpster fire of a fic >:3

ok and finally- i know i already made a post abt it but like. would u guys still love me if i posted a luke castellan fic? it’s SO self indulgent bc i’m brain rotting from the percy jackson show so idk yet :>

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old wooden planks creak with each step childe takes.

he’d long lost the count of the days he’d spent in this peculiar inazuman domain— the mystic omnyou chamber, his companions called it. though what a fascinating domain it was, ever-changing and ever-puzzling but most of all, ever-deploying more enemies for him to fight his way through. he feels like only now he truly knows what teucer must’ve felt like in front of all those mr. cyclopses all those months ago.

he felt as though he was given a little too much breathing room by the motherland, still being stationed in liyue with you whoever knows how long his mission was finished, so it was no less than perfect to hear the news of scaramouche’s disappearance from inazuma after taking the gnosis for himself. as much as he disliked to have to leave you in northland bank with the promise of the two of returning together still at hand, he dully needed to take up on his responsibilities as one of her majesty’s harbingers.

still, he could fair by through the remembrance of you and his love for combat.

it’s amusing how freshly burned into his mind the memory of your time together at dottore’s lab was, even when he was half-conscious and at his physically weakest. how you soothed away his wounds with the cool breeze of your cryo powers, how you kept him company while he recovered, how you called him a pret-

“psst— you’re doing that thing again.”

“h-huh..?”

the harbinger is snapped from his daydreaming by paimon naggingly whispering to him. as childe finds himself back in reality, he registers the sight of the traveler, xinyan and shiki taishou walking ahead distractedly through the narrow dusty hallways of the domain, while paimon had fallen back alongside him.

“are you back now? ok good.” the travel guide snides, hands sassily placed at her hips.

childe chuckles sheepishly. “i-i’m sorry, paimon, but i’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

“oh, come on, it’s so obvious! the entire time we’ve been here, you’ve been doing this thing where you either doze off thinking about y/n! y’know as someone so passionate about fighting, you really need to get your head in the game right now.”

he feigns an offended scoff. “that is entirely untrue, comrade. my focus is solely on figuring out this domain’s mysteries and defeating its monsters.”

there’s a brief pause, where childe thoroughly reevaluates what paimon just said.

“wait, how did you know i was thinking about y/n? i-if i were dozing off and possibly thinking about them!”

she scoffs. “puh-lease, you’ve been babbling about them since we got here! almost everything you’ve said has somehow trailed off into y/n, so much so that even shiki taishou is caught up on what’s happened with you two!”

paimon was someone known to be a bit eccentric and overreactive at certain moments, but she also had her moments of being very bluntly honest in other situations. this was one of them. the harbinger deliberates for a moment, out of all the time he’s spent venturing this domain with the paper doll, just how much information had he unwillingly retained about you.

suddenly, a moment of clarity washes over childe and he vividly recalls all the moments during his venture in the domain where he’s talked about you. saying things such as ‘i wonder how y/n is doing right now…’, or ‘hah, y/n’s cryo attacks would demolish these enemies.’ or even ‘oh! that reminds of this one time, when y/n and i were kids…’. lest we mention the multiple times he’s said ‘i can’t wait to return to inazuma with y/n and show them this.’ whenever he’d been exploring the electro land’s scenic locations.

poor shiki taishou.

but then again, is it truly his fault that the mystic omnyou chamber had so many moments and details that were so clearly reminiscent of you? o-or maybe… maybe this was just a domain and everything reminded him of you regardless. but that’s the more unlikely possibility.

he curses scaramouche in his mind for a brief moment. it was all because he decided to go rogue that childe had to leave so abruptly— just when he’d made amends with you, just when the two of you were restoring your friendship. just when you’d started to flash him that devastating smile of yours again, instead of the standoffish snarl you’d presented during his mission in liyue. gods, he could feel his heart pang against his chest. surely it was just the adrenaline of battle, though. even if the group hadn’t faced enemies in more than ten minutes by now.

an even further tucked part of childe’s mind curses paimon next, for pointing out how much he speaks of you, because now he truly cannot stop. he looks ahead towards the end of the corridor and he can’t see what’s next, can’t see the next tatami matted arena where he’ll face a new wave of enemies, something he thinks he wants— no, all he sees is you.

it’s like your face is burned into his retinas, your fond laughter burned into brain and the warm feeling of when he slept against your shoulder burned into his skin.

childe doesn’t doesn’t fight as well as before in the next battle, he’s sloppy and distracted. after the arena is cleared, he’s left with a scratch across his bicep— which, thankfully, the domain grants a healing sigil to mend.

but it’ll never cure him like you do, never soothe the very core of his being like your powers do and it’ll never look at him the same way you did, caring and attentive.

he remembers how he felt lookup up at you then— like you were the stars in the night sky. he needed to get this mission over with as soon as possible.

—

you could almost hear your mother’s nagging tone telling you to not play with your food. as delicious as liyuean cuisine was, you’d lost your appetite halfway through your meal- as well as interest in the tale the restaurant’s storyteller was telling.

it’d been probably the dullest week you’ve had in a while, no new assignments from the motherland, no events happening in the city and… admittedly, no childe.

you can’t find the effort to lie to yourself and say it’s fine that he’s gone, that it’s for the tsaritsa’s noble cause— you don’t care about it. scaramouche could screw off with the gnosis and live his life, as far as you were concerned. in fact, you’d say he deserves it, given all he’s gone through with the doctor, even if he could be an astronomical asshole at times— well most of the times.

and now you can’t decide who to blame for childe’s absence, the balladeer or the tsaritsa. either way, it’s affected you more than you’d ever admit out loud. it’s been such a monotone week not just because of the distinct lack of anything to do in liyue lately, but also because of a distinct lack of… someone to worry about. yeah, that’s what it was, just an unusual sense of calm and nothing to stress over, that’s all—

“even in all my years, i’ve rarely seen someone stare at an unfinished bowl of dragon beard noodles with such intensity.”

a rumbling, baritone voice quips jokingly from across your small table and you’re startled away from your thoughts. looking up, the comment is revealed to come from mr. zhongli, the consultant from wanshe— oh, who were you kidding, the now former geo archon.

you hadn’t formerly spoken to him since the mission to take, well, his gnosis. after the situation with osial was diffusd, you beared witness to an unsettlingly diplomatic exchange between mr. zhongli and the fair lady, where he gave away the very culmination of his divinity like it was spare change. of course, you’ve spotted him countless times around the harbor— merely enjoy the little things the city had to offer. you can’t truly fault him for making the decision that he did, six thousand years is, unspokenly, too much time to not peruse the fruits of his labor from up close.

“a-ah, mr. zhongli! it’s been so long since we last spoke.” you scramble to politely greet zhongli and briefly wonder if you should stand up to bow to him, which he seems to notice.

“my apologies for startling you, doctor— may i?” he gestures to the seat in front of you and you nod.

“yes, it has been some time. i recall you being there for the completion of my contract with the fair lady, but the last time the two of us had the opportunity to meet casually was the very same night we first met.”

you nod curtly— you’re tense, you don’t know why. you know he’s not an archon anymore, you were there to see it, but perhaps the real weight of being in the presence of someone so powerful, not just an archon but the oldest of the original seven, seems to have only settled in now. you feel almost as choked as when in the presence of the tsaritsa, which you know all the same that you shouldn’t be. zhongli chuckles amusedly.

“i ask you to treat me as though you would’ve that night in liuli pavilion, like any other acquaintance. chatting with a mere consultant of a funeral parlor requires no formalities. now— have you been well, doctor?”

you can still only bring yourself to nod wordlessly in response, there’s no need for zhongli to know how royally miserable you’ve been lately.

“and.. may i ask why you held such a glare towards your meal? is it not your liking?”

“oh, no the noodles are just fine, amazing even! i was just… contemplating wether to finish it or not.”

great cover.

“hm,” zhongli hums with playful suspicion. “while a reasonable topic of contemplation, it did very much seem as though you were rather staring through the bowl, as though there is something on your mind. i would not mind hearing what is it that vexes you, doctor— if you’re comfortable to share, of course.”

yeah there was no fooling a, again, six thousand year old divine being with a half-assed excuse like yours. you sigh.

“well— yes, you caught me. the last few days have been, uh… less than peachy for me.”

“what exactly is it troubles you these days?”

“i wouldn’t say it’s trouble but, there hasn’t been much to do at northland bank lately. and childe has been out on a mission for some time now— b-but it’s mainly the lack of assignments!” you stammer.

“is that so? i did hear of childe’s sudden departure for inazuma but it is curious that you’re being kept stationed here with essentially nothing to do. but, if i may— has childe been absent for as long as you’ve felt dull at work or would you say there is no relation?”

already at so few words out of sheer nervousness, zhongli managed still to render you completely and utterly speechless. what are you even supposed to respond to this?

“i-i uhm, i… alright, i won’t even try.” you sigh in defeat and zhongli looks coyly pleased. he patiently awaits for you to gather your thoughts and actually say more than two stammered sentences.

“i truly can’t tell what it is. i feel like i’m supposed to be worrying for him— as if he’ll get injured again or injure someone else o-or even worse, do something stupid but there’s just.. nothing! it’s like i’m so used to being aware of his presence and now there’s nothing and it’s- it’s frustrating.”

“you miss him.”

you pause. do you miss him? no, it can’t be so simple— you have a medical degree, it is most certainly improbable that you’ve been trying your brain over just missing childe. well, sure it was great that the two of you were starting to make amends and stopped being so on-edge around each other but… there’s no objective reason for you to miss him.

right?

“i would not say i even near the level of an expert on matters concerning relationships between people, but i’ve seen a lot in my time. enough to tell you with confidence that it’s most likely you just.. miss him, doctor. and that it is okay to feel this way. the two of you do not stand at odds anymore, you never have— it is reasonable for you to be affected by his absence.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “how do you know if… childe and i stand at odds, mr. zhongli.”

“well, i have witnessed it. both directly and indirectly— the tension and misunderstanding between the two of you during our meeting at liuli pavilion was quite evident and i’ve heard of how you opposed him in battle at the golden house. but that is all it has ever been, misunderstandings and disagreements, but you’ve never truly disliked each other.”

“h-how do you know-“

“he speaks quite highly of you, doctor.”

“wh-what?”

“childe has only ever spoken highly of you— i recall mentioning that had been looking forward to meeting you in person during our dinner, it is all because of how grand his description of you was. plus, during our eventual meetups, you’re mentioned at least once every time. and you, as we’ve discussed, do seem to hold some care towards him, to the extent that you first concern is his health.”

your heart aches and you hate it. it’s a terrible, void sensation that frustrates you to no end. why? why did childe have to make it so difficult for you? why can’t you ever feel simple feelings when it came to him? why couldn’t you ever just feel one way towards him with no smaller part of your brain saying something else? even worse, why couldn’t your brain ever think about anything else— literally anything, instead of just constantly orbiting around the mixed emotions you felt when it came to childe?

you just constantly, restlessly and unendingly seem to care about him.

“you know what, mr. zhongli, i think y—“

“ah, there you are, sergeant!”

a less familiar voice calls out from behind you and you turn around with a bit of surprise— it’s a man clad in fatui uniform, who you recognize as mikhail, one of the officers stationed at northland bank. he’s not exactly someone you interact much with, just a mere coworker you greet every other morning, so you’re perplexed as to why he’s seeking you outside the bank.

“mikhail, what is the occasion?” you ask, briefly eyeing zhongli to find that he remains with a neutral expression awaiting the exchange.

“i am deeply sorry for interrupting your lunch, sergeant, but ekaterina urged for me to find you as soon as i could. a letter has come in from lord dottore for you specifically— she says it is of utmost importance.”

—

the wharf is unusually crowded today.

an untimely flux of either tourists or returning immigrant citizens, perhaps it is an important time of year in another nation— although, childe could truly care less at the moment. he’s doing his best to politely push his way through the sea of people leaving their respective ships while almost unconsciously seeking you out within it. he knows you wouldn’t be here, as his return to liyue was unannounced, but his eyes fly to latch onto your likeness anyway.

childe ends up finding you right in the center of the harbor’s main street, practically right below the catwalks that lead to the bank. you’re slowly pacing back and forth, a piece of paper clutched in your hands and a vacant expression on your face— childe can’t find himself to clutch to those details right now, he just needs to get to your side. he makes large, determined steps towards you, big grin invading his features, and while he’s still approaching you, you spot him and your eyes widen even more. once childe is a mere two steps away from you, he stops.

“y/n! oh, it’s so good to see you!” he heaves out gladly.

“ajax—“ you reply in a quiet voice and his heart swells at the use of his real name. he truly can’t contain himself anymore and tackles you into a tight hug, one so strong that stumble back a bit.

his arms snake tightly from under your arms to above your shoulders and his head lowers from being against your own to reaching your shoulder blade— it is as close as he physically get to you, while trying to be respectful of your space, of course. you’re still in shock for maybe five seconds of the hug, but eventually you just let yourself slowly wrap around him and squeeze ever so slightly. both of you have your eyes closed to sink into the moment.

the hug is long, maybe twenty seconds so, and as childe becomes satisfied with its duration and pulls away, he remains with his hands to your elbows in a gentle hold. he sighs with said satisfaction and beams towards you.

“i have so much to tell you about inazuma! unfortunately, i couldn’t find scaramouche there but i managed to see so many beautiful places, so many amazing experie- wait.. what’s wrong?”

the harbinger pauses mid sentence when he notices the numbness in your expression and his bright grin falls into a concerned frown— you feel like the most terrible person for making him lose such excitement. your mouth opens and closes as you find what to say, but you eventually whisper it out.

“ajax, i-i… i have to go to sumeru.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

[misseviehyde]

IN CHASTITY - Pt II

By @Newbloodtg109 and Evie Hyde

Chastity was restless.  She sat on a chair in front of her laptop, her long slutty fingers deep inside her tight slit as she finger fucked herself with a slow pleasurable rhythmn.  Little gasps of pleasure escaped her lips and her heart hammered in her chest as she watched the image on the screen.

The porn video she was watching had over 10,000 views and showed a man with a pixelated face lying on a bed with his ass in the air.  He slowly groaned as he worked a gigantic black dildo in and out of his ass.  His cock was caged in a pink plastic shell, squeezed into a tiny crushed ball by the constrictive plastic.

Her hand went to her chest and touched the key she wore there.  Her pussy got wetter.

"Ohhhhh fuck yessss..."

She giggled happily, using her thumb to rub her swollen clit as she pushed another finger inside and felt her pussy stretch out to accomodate the increased girth.  She was so fucking wet she could barely stand it.

But still she wanted more.  She HUNGERED for more.

"Ohhh Daddy, you're so fucking WEAK," she groaned.  "I'm so glad we swapped places. I make a much better Chastity than you ever did and you're becoming such a good Daddy."

It was weird watching her old body in the porn video she'd filmed last week. It was over a month now since she'd stolen this body and adopted her Chastity persona, finding new perversions to indulge in every day. At first she'd just wanted to enjoy the power and pleasure being a wicked teenage bitch could bring. Having gone from a forty year old man into a horny slut, the rush of bratty endorphins had almost been enough to satisfy her. The wardrobes of clothes, the girls to bully at college... it had all been intoxicating.

But the new Chastity wanted more. So much more.

Daddy was her new project. There was just something so intoxicating about breaking him and turning him into a helpless simp. Knowing that he had once been inside this perfect body just made it so hot to humiliate and dominate him further.  

"Ohhhh yes Daddy, you're going to be such a good fucking sissy," she groaned speeding up her fingers and spreading her booted legs wider. Her big tits bounced on her chest as her pouty lips opened in pleasure and she imagined training her Daddy further and further into being her bitch.

First had come the ass training.  He had fallen for her ploy... her false agreement to return his body if he could fit the giant dildo inside.  Day after day she'd watched him lube the giant rubber dong and force it deeper and deeper into his rectum. Even if he could manage it, she had no intention of ever giving him back her body.

Other demands had followed. She'd told him it was disgusting how he kept jerking off to her, so had insisted he wear a cage. She had made him shave off all his body hair...first his chest...then his legs...soon he was as smooth as a newborn.

Bit by bit, his corruption had accelerated. It was so fucking hot.

Chastity began to cum. She cried out in pleasure as her pussy exploded and a spray of warm juice blasted out  to spray the desk. "Ohhhh fuck yesssss," she hissed.  She'd make Daddy clean it up later.

"I need some real cock," she gasped. "I need to get fucked."

Tearing off her clothes, she walked to the shower to bathe. She would make herself look nice and fuckable and then she'd find herself a nice big cock. In fact... she had just the man in mind.

*********************

Marcus had always worried that his daughter Kelly was hanging out with bad influences, but he'd never realised what a fucking whore his friend Joe's daughter was.  He looked down at the blonde bitch and gasped as she sucked his big cock and took every inch like a pornstar, having little to no gag reflex as she sucked with pure passion.

She'd shown up at his house and seduced him with ease. All Chastity had to do was knock on the door and stare into Marcus' eyes and she had power over him. His cock was harder than it had been before, even more than his ex-wife had made him, as Chastity shut the door behind her and dropped down to her knees.

"You know," she giggled as she slurped and glugged off his cock with a hot, pop... "getting your dick sucked by a teenage slut is kinda hot... but you know what's even hotter?"

She went back to sucking with a groan of pleasure, her blonde head bobbing up and down.  He gasped as she brought him nearer and nearer to orgasm, he couldn't believe how good this felt.

"Mmmmh, sucking a big cock and BEING a teenage bitch," she giggled as she grabbed his cock and pumped it with her slutty hands till it began to erupt and cum everywhere.  Chastity giggled as globs of cum rained down on her massive tits and she luxuriated in the feeling as her lover groaned and gasped.

"I mean, just think about it," she grinned licking the tip and sucking more cum out. "Imagine all the dirty, wicked bitchy things you could do if you became a girl...Don't tell me you haven't thought about it? What it would be like to be a girl, to be inside a body like mine?"

Marcus looked down at the cum splattered slut at his feet and frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about Chastity?"

Chastity shrugged.  "Just that maybe I know a way you can experience how it feels to be a horny little slut, just like me.  Your goody-goody daughter is so ripe and ready to become a slut. She's nineteen and her hormones are driving her crazy. She's told me she's still a tight little virgin, but with the right pilot inside her - she could be a fucking cum-slut and have everything she ever wanted. A tight pussy like hers could control the world - make men do whatever she wanted. Only problem is she's too weak to ever embrace that life-style. But you.. you could live that life couldn't you baby?"

"What the hell are you saying you perverted little bitch?  I'm not interested..."

"Oh no?" giggled Chastity. "Then why is your cock rock hard again at the thought?" Chastity stared devilishly into Marcus' eyes as she moved up and wrapped her dainty hand around his hard cock, her face only inches away from the man she just sucked off.

Marcus frowned, he couldn't stop thinking about the poisonous evil things this slut was saying to him and it was making him worried. 

"Don't worry Marcus, if you won't get inside Kelly - I'm sure someone else will. Maybe one of the other Dad's? Would you like to see that? One of your friends taking your place and turning Kelly into his new body?"

Opening her phone, Chastity grinned as she showed Marcus the bodyqueaning filter on the social media app. "With this, you and Kelly can change places. You can have her body, Daddy. You and me could have SO much fun once you're my new slutty bestie. You think me sucking your cock feels good. Wait until I show you what a tight pussy can do, and when you feel a cock inside you...you'll never want to go back."

Marcus groaned as Chastity began to stroke and pump his cock again, his balls began to throb - ready to explode again at her perfect touch.

"I mean - what if I told you that I used to be your friend?  What if I told you that I took over my daughters body and made her an even bigger slut than before?  What if I told you that nothing feels better than being a bitch and soon you'll be just as addicted as I am?"

Chastity was loving how good this felt. To tempt another person into doing what she had done. To help Marcus stral and replace his daughters life and drag him down to her level... it made her tight pussy wet.  It satisfied the corrupt and evil hunger inside her.  It felt good to be bad.

Meanwhile Marcus gasped and shuddered in pleasure as Chastity expertly squeezed and massaged his balls and with a moan he began to ejaculate again.  He had never felt anything so good before. His dick felt alive in her hands.

"Mmmmmh, I'm glad you enjoyed it, because that's going to be your last ever orgasm as a man - now lets go find Kelly and have some real fun."

*************************

Kelly was in her bedroom listening to music when the door opened and her father walked in. Her friend Chastity was with him too, although Kelly had been pissed off with her recently as she had been acting really weird.

"Errrrr hey guys... what do you want?"

Chastity giggled and pushed Marcus forward. "Your Dad wants to show you this cool filter he found. Go on..."

Chastity's eyes glittered and her heart beat faster as she watched Marcus open the app and the clueless Kelly stand next to him. "Yessss fucking do it," she hissed. "Become a slut like me."

"N...no, I can't do this," whimpered Marcus suddenly losing his nerve. He went to put the phone down but Chastity had been expecting this which is why she had put a voice control on the phone.

"Activate bodyquean filter."

She laughed and began to rub her pussy as she watched the switch. "Yesssss give your Daddy your body - his soul will be so good in your body Kelly."

Marcus' cock had been even harder than with Chastity's hand and mouth on it. Him and Kelly were engulfed in that familiar pink light as they felt their souls being sucked out and put slowly put into each others bodies. 

"Daddy! Make it stop!" Kelly yelled as she felt the last bit of her soul being forced into Marcus. "Oh fuck...it feels so good!" Marcus said as he grinned, feeling his soul as it was put inside his daughter.

Marcus hadn't believed it when Chastity had told him it would feel good to bodyquean his own daughter. He felt evil and perverted stealing his daughters body - but now he was inside and he could feel her raging hormones he loved how hot and tight his new body felt.

"Don't worry Kelly," grinned Chasitity as she swayed over to the shocked looking man who had once been Marcus. "Unlike my pathetic father, you can enjoy the benefits of being a real man. You'll soon be glad you gave Marcus your body. You're gonna love being a man."

Grinning Chastity pulled down Kelly's trousers and with a purr of delight began to suck the big  cock in front of her.

"Mmmmh let me show you the power and pleasure you can have as a man with a big dick. You're going to help me and Kelly here swap more daddies. In return you'll get your big dick sucked real good and I'll help you become a dominant powerful man."

Meanwhile the new Kelly was exploring her own body. Sitting on a chair she slid off her panties and with a groan began to finger herself. 

"Fuck - I can't believe this is now my pussy. Watching you suck my old cock is making me so wet. This feels so good."

Kelly moaned as Chastity's perfect air tight lips slid up and down her thick cock. Her Daddy's strong body was hers now and she felt a surge of testosterone and power. Grabbing Chastity's head, she forced the girl deeper onto her cock.

"Yes... fucking suck it you bitch."

Chastity moaned happily, saliva and precum dripping out of her mouth. This was more like it.

The room was soon full of the sounds of sex as Kelly fucked Chastity's mouth and Marcus masturbated enthusiastically - his fingers sliding easily in and out of his tight pussy.

"Mmmmh just wait till we get a cock inside you," giggled Chastity and she grinned as Marcus begn to squirt. Returning herattention to Kelly's cock, she gagged as he suddenly grunted and began to pump her mouth full of more rich salty cum.

"Isn't this just the best feeling ever girls? Hahahaha!"

**************

Joe groaned as Marcus laughed and pushed his cock deeper into his lubricated ass. He was currently dressed in one of Chastity's black bodystockings and with a black gimp mask on.  He grunted as Marcus began to pound him with thick heavy wet slaps.

Chastity was busy filming it all whilst Kelly sat on a chair toying her pussy with a big glass dildo. "Oh yeah Daddy, fuck that loser. Punish his sissy ass.

Kelly - who now thought of herself as Marcus just grinned as she hammered Joe harder. Becoming her own Daddy had unlocked a pool of dominance and sexual lust she had never imagined was within her.

After the fucking the shit out of that scheming slut Chastity, she had come to realise having a dick was the greatest feeling in the world. The power that she had with one made her feel strong and sexier than ever. Now she just wanted to fuck more pussy... to making that ass clap. Who cared so long as it felt good?

Meanwhile Joe was in ecstasy. He groaned and loved the feeling of being bred by a strong dominant male.

Dressed in six inch black stiletto boots that went up to her inner thighs - and a tight black body stocking with an obscenely large steap on jutting from her crotch, Chastity was in Heaven as she filmed.

"Yesssss I wanna be nastier, sluttier and even more evil,' she hissed. Taking over this body had unleashed her full potential as a super bitch. 

Positioning herself in front of her 'Daddy' she laughed as she commanded him to open wide and began to film a POV shot of him taking her cock as he was fucked from behind.

This was gonna make so much money online.

Meanwhile the new Kelly was squirting and moaning as she fucked her tight cunt. Laughing, Chastity took her rubber cock out of her Daddy's mouth and using his lubricated mouth juices - began to fuck Kelly.

"Oh my God... yes fuck me you bitch," moaned Kelly spreading her legs nice and wide. "Ohhh yeah fuck my tight cunt."

Chastity was in Heaven as the grunting sweating moans filled the room. Things were already more fun now she had more sluts to play with. 

"Ohhh yes it feels so fucking nasty to steal my daughters life," groaned the new Kelly. She couldn't wait to get her nails done and squeeze into some bitchy outfits with her new bestie.

"We're sluts now baby," grinned Chastity. "We'll add more to our gang and I of course will be the leader."

"Yessss," groaned Kelly.

"Yes what?"

"Yesssss Mistress Chastity."

"Good girl."

Chastity felt her pussy grow wetter than it ever had before. The newfound power over not only her father but Kelly made her feel so hot. She looked over the bodyqueaning filter, and eyed the age progression filter next to it.

She grinned and felt a heat rising up inside her. "Oh fuck yes. I'm gonna be so much sexier than before. I love being a slut."

After all - wouldn't things be even hotter once she was a MILF?

THE END OF PART 2

[soft-persephone]

The Distance Between Our Galaxies

Jake Lockley (Moon Knight system) x Ballerina!Fem!Reader x Luke (Jake Johnson)

T // WC: 1.45k // warnings: descriptions of flesh being ripped // series masterlist //main masterlist

Jake woke up and immediately stilled his body.

A woman, soft and sweet was pressed up against him.

Fuck, Marc.

Jake woke up to the smell of your hair. It washed over his senses, filling him with a distant memory, transporting him to a hazy dream when he was younger. A boy, barely a teenager in the back of Marc’s mind.

You reminded him of that girl he fell in love with when he was younger, much younger.. He never got the chance to touch her. To talk to her or be with her in any capacity, not sure how to reach out and make his presence known.

Taking his chance, he indulged in a deep sniff. Letting his head rest on yours. For just a moment, lingering.

Your hand was strewn across his waist. Your legs were tangled in his. A distinct taste lingered on his tongue.

You.

He was a kid again. He couldn't quite remember what age, but it was young. However, old enough for his first kiss. Their first kiss.

Marc always seems to get them first.

Mirabel’s rich skin, the specific hues of her undertone was something magical, her full lips, and pretty white smile. Jake remembered the hazy moments he was present in the body, quiet as whispers.

Little Bel was a ray of sunshine in their youth. A getaway from the wretched plight that was home, but when they– mainly Marc was with her. It was the first time he didn't have to worry.

He didn't have to take over.

It was a blessing, but also his curse.

The entire experience reminded him of his own personal mortality. His living purgatory of being alive, but being unknown. A deep aching curse to want the things he could never have. He was a fleeting memory in the lives of a few, real for only one moment in time.

He was real once. Scattered in accros time in a world he used to know, but he’s been away so long. His friends might not even remember him. He had no one in London. He didn’t know anything or give a fuck about Europe.

There was no one to recognize him or remember he was ever there.

So all he had were the memories.

In his own universal plane of existence. A fleeting whisper in the wind. He knew he was real, but it would be nice to have his own life back. To make his own world known.

Every moment he was present in the body was a tribute to his own existence, his mustache, his own personal style, his walk, the way he talked. It was the time when body was his and only his. So he interacted with the world around him, outside of Marc’s reserved abrasiveness, and despite Steven’s best efforts to be sociable, it rubbed people the wrong way. He was nice, but they had a habit of not sticking around.

Most likely Marc’s fault.

So he had to hold on and cherish every moment. Every experience, thought, word, touch, feeling, every-everything. Because they were his.

So he cherished his time with you because when else was he going to get another chance.

He gingerly placed a finger on your full lips, slowly tracing them, relishing in the warmth of your breath, tickling the pad of his fingertips.

They were so soft.

His chest ached. His palms suddenly felt sweaty.

He suddenly rmemebrs how Mirabel’s eager plush lips and equally as eager tongue, swiped over theirs with a heated fervor they didn’t quite know was possible. Neither of them good at it, but it was one of Jake’s most precious memories. Her lips crashing awkwardly but passionately along Marc’s, unaware that you were kissing him too.Marc unaware of the boy inside that took his most brutal beatings.

There was no explanation for how Marc’s hand tightened on her side. There was no explanation for how he desperately needed to touch her hair. How he had to kiss her more firmly. How his tongue becomes less aggressive, just cherishing the moment. It must just be how much he liked her was all he thought. The conclusion he came to.

But no, it was him, Jake.

He somehow got control, for just a brief moment, to make his first kiss his, just as much as it was Marc’s.

Marc didn’t deserve most of the women that came into their lives.

He always managed to push them away, but the good one’s stuck around.

As much as Jake wanted to take over and show you a true man. A gentleman even, he couldn’t intervene.

Not like this.

You needed someone to meet you where you were at. To help you process your grief healthily.

The memory rushed over him. Blending with the present.

With one final brush of his thumb on your cheek. He sighed before returning to the unknown.

He didn’t have to think.

He was out of your bed without waking you up. He whisked the battered bloody clothes out of your hamper into a trash bag that took him more than a long time to find.

Jake hated large houses that needed maids. Everything was too far and hard to find.

Any evidence of Marc’s presence he scrubbed away.

“Spector had the body too long. There is buis—“

Yeah yeah, Jake replied back in his mind, shoving Khonshu away. You don’t have to tell me twice.

And he didn’t.

Khonshu was annoying.

Being Moon Knight just passed the time. When it was worth it and the work was honest, it could be a purpose.

He missed New York. He missed his cab, Crawley and Gina, her boys. God, those two knuckleheads.

It didn’t take long until he was out the front door of the house

Depsite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake it.

He couldn’t shake you.

But the thoughts started flowing, his mind racing, landing back onto you.

He was thinking about what your life might have been before you met your husband, who you were when he was alive and you both were happy. Leading him to think about his own life, the massive overbearing weight of his own life.

Hard, dark, and heavy, but it was carryable.

A little hard to carry, but he could carry it.

He made a call to steven’s job, doing his best british accent. He updated them on the phony family emergency, so he wouldn’t get fired, but they were running out of time. There was only so much FMLA Steven had left.

You were on his mind. Despite his best efforts to focus on the task at hand.

You felt far away.

The pain was heavy inside his chest, making his heart beat feel wrong. It gnawed at him like a wild dog. A ferocious desire eating him from the inside. The fear of not being fed makes it fight harder and harder. It’s teeth gnashed and bit down on his soul. Ripping him apart and leaving his strown flesh and guts in the cold, what’s left of his heart beating out of his chest.

Jake ignored it, donning the mask and suit of threads. Perhaps the suit's healing factor could stave away at the wild untamed longing.

It must be from Marc’s.

The foreign wild emotion was unlike anything he’d ever felt. He ignored it as he jumped in the air, running across rooftops. He ignored it as he glided through the air. He ignored it as he landed on the fire escape of the little run down hotel room he’d got temporarily for them as Marc did fuck all with the body.

Opening the closet door he looked at the little evidence board he’d been making.

“If you had listened to me, you’d know by now that you need to go back to the large house. With the. . .girl.”

“She’s a grown woman.” Jake blinked. “Why do I need to go back?”

“The spiritual disturbance is in the house.”

“But that’s just—“

“Not. The husband.” Khonshu bellowed. “It’s following him.”

This wasn’t good. Not one bit.

Whatever magical disturbance Khonshu had Jake chasing the past couple of months was getting worse. The nights spent keeping the magical monsters and powers at be from hurting ordinary people were getting longer and longer.

They were running out of time and Marc hogging the body only made things worse.

You don’t need me to tell you what you must do…” Khonshu started, his looming form’s glow faded into the shadows out of his vision and back into the apparatus of his mind. His voice became the memory of a distant echo in his mind. “The gnawing,” his voice faded even farther away, “is of your own creation.”

[megu-meow]

kiss it better - Gojo Satoru

gojo x fem. reader

Summary: Gojo is sad after your break-up.

TW: angst, some swear words, heartbroken Gojo (I feel like he's out of character too, sorry)

There are not many instances Gojo Satoru remembers where his feelings got the best of him. Growing up he developed an attitude through which he didn't get too involved with anything, however, he had a strong sense of what's worth fighting for and what is not. When he met Megumi after killing his father, Gojo couldn't let the boy go through his childhood alone, without a parental figure around, so he took the raven-haired boy in.

When his best friend went rogue, he made a pact to not let anyone feel alone again. At that time, he voiced this to Shoko as well, but the young healer misunderstood him. You see, Gojo Satoru never felt truly alone in his life. He was surrounded by people throughout his life, some were closer to him and some were mere acquaintances, but he never felt lonely, contrary to Geto. Of course, the possessor of the six eyes thought that Suguru was weak for dealing with his feelings by developing insane beliefs, but he couldn't blame him for one second, not even on the day of his death.

Gojo Satoru has strong opinions and an unshakeable sense of self, he doesn't really need anyone to rely on or to be by his side. He just wants to keep the people around him safe, he wants to ensure a brighter future for all of his students, and all in all, he wants the world to be a better place.

So why is it so hard for him to get out of bed lately? Why is it hard to do his job? When did his favorite desserts stop making him feel better?

He knows the answers to all of those questions, but he doesn't want to admit it. He lost a lot of people in his life, and the sorcerer world is full of grief, but you walking out of his life is on a very different level.

The two of you met a couple of months back, you were a new addition to the sorcerer squad in Kyoto, but you requested a transfer to Tokyo after an incident with Principal Gakuganji, you nearly killed the old geezer after you found out that he wanted to have some cursed kid executed. Gojo thought the whole situation was hilarious and he waited curiously for your arrival. He didn't expect you to be so perfect. You were stunning, with a lovely personality. You were passionate, a strong-willed woman with insane abilities and a strong desire to reshape the jujutsu world. You and Gojo quickly became good friends, the two of you fit together like two puzzle pieces. He loved the way you acted with his students, you were easy-going and fun to be around, and you often radiated crackhead energy like Yuji did, the two of you were always up to no good. You often lent books to Megumi, and the raven-haired boy enjoyed talking to you about philosophy and other serious topics, Gojo noticed how the boy often decided to seek your advice in different situations. You also took Nobara shopping a lot and the two of you would often indulge in girly nights where you did your nails or hair and talked about makeup.

It didn't take long for Gojo Satoru to develop feelings for you. How could he not? You were everything the didn't know he needed. You were easy to talk to, you remembered everything he shared, and you kept checking up on him. The last person to ask him about his well-being was Geto and Satoru sometimes felt guilty for comparing you to his best friend, but he couldn't help it.

He asked you out after a few months of meeting you and for some reason, you accepted his advances. He was a great guy, caring and goofy, but he could also give amazing advice due to his many life experiences. It wasn't hard to fall for him and you didn't mind becoming his girlfriend.

"Pretty girl, you are the love of my life, you belong to me. The next time Sukuna makes an appearance and asks you to sit on his throne just tell me and I'll show him the ways of the Honored One." he said playfully one time after Yuji mentioned how the King of Curses had a crush on you.

"Satoru, sweetheart, jealousy is not your color."

"You wound me, my kikufuku. Just say you love me back, pleaseeeee." he whined, embracing you a bit too harshly and you rolled your eyes, amused by the white-haired sorcerer's antics.

"I love you, Satoru. You don't have to worry about anyone else, I'm here to stay."

So what went wrong?

Gojo knew he fucked up. He knew he was an open book and an enigma at the same time. There were things he willingly shared with you and there were some he kept a secret with all he had. He witnessed as the two of you started drifting apart slowly, his own secrets forcing you to start building a wall around yourself so that you could keep yourself safe, away from heartbreak. You could read people easily, especially when it came to Satoru. You didn't need to snoop around to know he wasn't completely honest with you, he kept his missions and anything related to them a secret, you never knew if you were gonna see him the next day or if he would be gone for a few days. It killed you to watch the person you loved the most keeping such important aspects of his life from you. In his defense, everything he did was to protect you from the horrifying truth of what his life actually was and the gloominess and grief he had to carry on his shoulders. He wanted to give you everything that was good and bright in this world, he didn't want you to feel bad ever again. He didn't realize how bad he was hurting you with his attitude.

When you broke things off with him your eyes were full of tears, the salty drops of water were racing down your cheeks and your voice was scratchy and broken. He never wanted to feel the way he did that day. He never felt so heartbroken, not even on the day of Suguru's death. He knew his best friend was a liability and that there was no way to save him, but your breakup was avoidable. He could have changed, he had many opportunities to be honest with you, but he kept his secrets. He could have spared your fragile heart from all the misery he brought upon you.

"Gojo, you have to wake up. I can't take on any more of your missions, they're getting out of hand." Nanami implored, as he stood at the foot of the white-haired sorcerer's bed. Satoru was hiding under a pile of blankets, one with cute Dalmatian puppies sitting on top. It was one he bought on a mission knowing that the animated movie 101 Dalmatians was your childhood favorite. You left it there on accident and for some reason, Gojo failed to put it away after your breakup.

"Okay, I'm up." he groaned, getting out of bed and walking into his closet to put on his uniform. Nanami observed his senpai, he looked... rough. The bounce was missing from his steps, his hair was messy, tangled into his blindfold and he didn't make any silly remarks towards the blonde since he arrived. The Strongest was truly heartbroken, no-one knew how to make him feel better.

"Fucking breakup." Satoru muttered as he kept punching the special-grade cursed spirit that he was ordered to exorcise upon his return to Jujutsu Tech. Apparently, beating the living shit out of ugly creatures was a great coping mechanism. "Fuck feelings! It doesn't matter how ugly you are, you'll never be as twisted of a curse as love." he said to his opponent, delivering the final blow. He observed as the curse disappeared, heavy breaths were leaving his chest and the bruises on his knuckles healed up in an instant.

"You told me love wasn't a curse after all." he instantly turned around upon hearing your soothing voice. He took in your appearance, you didn't look your best either. Your uniform was hanging looser from your body than before, your skin got paler and your eyes were red and puffy.

"Well, I don't know what to think anymore, because it sure as hell feels like you cursed me when you broke things off." he confesses sadly, his covered eyes glued to his shoes. He feels your energy getting closer to him and he contemplates whether he should stop you or not.

"Toru..."

"Please don't! You're gonna break my heart even more..."

You don't listen, stepping closer to him, touching his cheeks gently. He leans into your touch on instinct, enjoying the close proximity. He knows he'll hate himself later for letting it happen, but he needs this. He needs your touch, he needs to hear your voice, he needs to hear your heartbeat. He needs you.

You slowly lift his blindfold, the soft material feels damp and you instantly notice the salty tears running down his face. You pull him down a bit and you start kissing away the droplets racing down his cheeks. He can't help it, he embraces you, soft and silent sobs wreck through his lanky but muscular body.

"I'm so sorry, my kikufuku. I promise I will never keep anything hidden from you, not again. Just please, come back to me. I can't live without you. I love you, you're my sunshine, my source of happiness, the one that keeps me grounded. Please..."

"I love you too, 'Toru."

"You do?" he asks with hopeful eyes.

"Of course. This breakup was the most horrible thing I had to do, it was torture. I don't want to spend more time away from you…please forgive me, lover boy."

He slightly steps away, but he doesn't hesitate to cup your cheeks, pressing his soft, pink lips on yours. You feel his tears mixing with yours, but you longed for this feeling for weeks now, ever since you two broke up. Suddenly, it feels like a curse has been lifted, everything falls back into place, and Satoru thanks every single god there is that you're back in his arms.

[tuliptired]

Good Trouble on The Lake

Pairing: kid!Ray Stantz/kid!Egon Spengler

Summary: Ray Stantz was always great at making friends! So great, he got Egon Spengler out of his shell. Enough to almost die in the woods, anyway.

Sorry this one is kinda long 😣

read it on Ao3!

It’s a fairly uneventful afternoon in the Ghostbusters’ headquarters. Winston and Peter volunteered a supermarket run (dish soap, paper towels, miscellaneous snacks) in order to escape how slow the morning was, and somehow, someway, Raymond Stantz didn’t have a thing to do.

Miraculously, Egon Spengler was also overtaken by the monotony of the day, and by the grace of some god, was actually taking a break. For the first time in Ray’s life, he sits along as his friend studies a newspaper, rather than a manual. Ray can’t blame him, as he attempts to read a classic paranormal novel, though he’s really just rereading the same sentence and thinking of nothing while laying on the couch. 

“Ray,” Egon breaks the silence, tone as interested as the scientist can express, “it says here that they’re looking to close Camp Little Tupper.” Ray’s brows shoot up. He could almost laugh at hearing the abysmal name again, if it wasn’t under such sad circumstances.

“No way!” He moves to sit up, this news now much more interesting than his book. “Gosh, I can remember that place like it was yesterday. Swimming, building robots…”

“Mosquito bites, swirlies…”

“Stargazing! Math-a-tho-”

“Food poisoning. You almost killing me.”

Ray scoffs. “Not true at all! Those were just inconveniences. You turned out great, Eges.” Egon was technically right. He definitely could’ve died that day, but the memory brings an even bigger smile to Ray’s face, and by the look of Egon’s slightly elevated eyebrows, he was equally as bemused. “It was fun, huh?”

“I must concede, had I never gone, we may have never developed such a long term partnership.” Gee, Egon really knew how to misconstrue the word “friendship”.

“You’re very welcome! We’ve gotta go back before they shut the doors- we never found the Tupper Banshee.” Ray’s eyes nearly sparkle as he thinks about all the possibilities; studying such a solid entity, upgrading their tech, and revisiting old memories with an even older friend. Nothing sounds better on such a dull day, really. “Why’re they closing, anyway?” He adds curiously.

Egon’s eyes scan multiple paragraphs, multiple pages, but he can’t find an answer. “Nothing so far, but if anything I’d bet it would be the terrible environmental impact.” Ray just snorts, thinking back to everything that happened to him the second, and final, summer he spent there. 

It was a warm summer sometime in the 60s, and Ray’s parents had just dropped him off out of the city and into the woods for his second year at Camp Little Tupper. Though it was a combined science and athletics camp (he found this out his first day his year prior), he always felt very excited to indulge in the hobby he was passionate about. He was a bit of a camping connoisseur, much to his Mid-Western parents’ delight, after many years of camping out with them in almost any suitable woodland area accessible by car. He fondly remembers going back to Camp Wacanda every summer, but that was with family, it was time for him to be a little independent and freely geeky. 

So, he pleaded and begged his parents to enroll him , “ They do experiments! I’ll never mix stuff in the shed ever again!” , until they finally gave in to his sad eyes and relentless reminders. He loved his first year so much, though he had to share the space with some less-than-academic-types, and his parents were willing to see him off again if it meant he’d smile that long again. 

As he carried all his belongings through the woods, in a group of other boys around 11 and 12 like he was at the time, he felt unbelievably giddy at the sight of the cabin he’d already spent time in. They were let in, but upon his entry he frowned to see that almost every bed was taken, top bunk as well as bottom. He suddenly felt smaller, anxiety betraying the months worth of anticipation as he carried his backpack close to his chest, looking around for a free spot.

On the top bunk of a bed in the very back, a small boy sat cross legged, unpacked and already reading to escape the loud noises of his roommates. Ray’s excitement returned, and he didn’t question it as he approached him eagerly. The unknown boy had dark, curly hair, cut only a little from falling below his large ears, and a pretty untamable fringe. His glasses were thick, and almost comically big for his face, almost like his clothes- a short sleeve button up (pocket protector included! And Ray thought he was nerdy) tucked into khaki shorts. His face was unamused, but Ray was not deterred as he looked up at the kid. 

“Hi! I’m Raymond. But call me Ray.” He beams. The kid just stares down at him, then suddenly speaks, as if he forgot that introductions typically elicit responses. 

“Egon Spengler.” 

Ray can only chuckle, hanging off the other boy’s bunk with his forearms while his feet graze the ground. Maybe he was invading his space, but excitement will do that to you.  “That’s a funny name. But it’s ok. My grandma says a unique name means a unique person.” The boy stares at him for a second more, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly if you looked impossibly close enough. “Sure,” is all he responds with. 

Ray sheds his heavy bags on the bunk below him. “Is this your first time here? What made you wanna come? Not that you’re not welcome,” he unconsciously rambles as he digs into his cargo shorts for something he can’t yet find. 

The other boy, Egon, seems to have eased into conversation slightly more. “My parents thought I needed more enrichment. The Royal Society doesn’t take summer students, so our Rabbi suggested,” he looks over his glasses, nose scrunching ever so slightly as he takes in the cabin around him. It was undeniably full of bodies, and boys (regardless of social standing, nerd or jock) will continue to be chimps, tossing things around and roughhousing. “This place.”

Ray laughs at that. Egon disregards his book, as he notices Ray has no intention of staying quiet for too long. He’s still digging in his shorts, though. “I bet your siblings are green knowing you get to spend the summer in such a cool place,” he laughs to himself.

Egon’s brow quirks once, quickly. “I only have a twin. He’s in Yosemite, studying ecology under a ranger.” 

“Man. Guess you’re happy to be away from him.”

“I am incredibly jealous and I’d give anything to trade places.”

Ah. “Well, the black bears at Yosemite can’t have smores.”

Egon’s legs are draped over the edge of the bunk now. “No bear can have a smore. They don’t have thumbs.”

Ray’s taken to scouring through his backpack instead. Where did that thing sneak off to? “I only have a sister. But we live in a big house with our cousins! Aunts and uncles and lots of babies and a bigggggg St. Bernard.” Ray can’t help but feel a little homesick, even if his sister was happy to see him go. It was a house full of people who all loved each other, at the end of the day. 

“That sounds abysmal,” was all Ray heard as he finally, finally found what he was looking for. He pulls out 2 Now and Laters like they’re the holy grail- which, to 2 11-year-olds, they are. To this day, he swears he can see a twinkle behind his new friend’s eyes. Egon slips down from the bunk, oddly industrial boots hitting the wooden floor.

The boys are called outside to start the festivities. “My dad told me to share with a new friend,” he smiles gently as Egon silently unwraps the candy. “And if we’re friends, you hafta help me take apart some smoke detectors.” Egon had no protests.

This was the start of their “partnership”. Life at camp was everything a nerdy kid could dream of, on a fairly low budget. Life and potential surrounded them, afterall. Of course, they were mandated at least one session of physical activity, much to Egon’s dismay. They were only excused when Egon threw up on the sidelines of a flag football game, and Ray joined him because “it gave them more time to finish Dune”. Though, he always snuck off to join baseball games, and Egon just filled him in on what Paul did before bed.

Once, at lunch, Ray couldn’t help but stare at his friend. In the past few weeks, it was like his hair grew this way overnight. Instead of being cut before it could touch his neck, it was round and untamable and long, his ears full on disappearing and his fringe touching his glasses. Of course, many boys grew their hair out while they were away-there was a barber readily available, but he cut way too close to the head so many just bore with the added weight. But a style of these proportions? Uncharacteristic and NOT Egon. But, to be scared of a haircut? Very Egon.

“Hey, Egon,” he starts. He picks off the lettuce and tomato from his sandwich, passing them to the boy on his side, whose nose is in a book as he adds the vegetables to his own and passes the meat and cheese to Ray in return. “Are you too scared to get your haircut?” He asks, in the middle of a bite.

Egon bookmarks the page. “Not necessarily. This is my own personal rebellion- my mother sent me away to a summer camp, I’m trying to test the extent of her anger if I come back-”

“Looking like curly Led Zeppelin?”

“...yes.”

“D’you think she’ll be mad? Like, spanking mad?”

Egon sighs slightly. “Enough to drive her to spit. I’m terrified.”

Ray touches his friend’s shoulder sympathetically. “Hey, it’s an experiment! She’ll get over it.”

Egon doesn’t say anything. He opens his book again, thinking over the new perspective.

Activities in camp were fun. But the two boys found themselves criminally bored. So they made a few adjustments to the experiments. It started small, no one knew it was them; a few cleaning products taken from the supply closets, of course they don’t know who’s baking soda volcano melted a hole into the metal table. The nails holding the swings together suddenly missing as the pair coincidentally had the material to make copper wiring.

But they got ambitious, and a little sloppy. It was dark out, while every other camper was by the lake, Egon and Ray opting to take care of the wild platypus they’d let into their living space. She resisted eating the leftover snacks and sleeping soundly in the crafty pile of blankets Ray left under his bed, him and Egon huddled in fear on Egon’s bed as their new pet ravaged the cabin. Just then, the door handle clicked open.

Ray grumbled as they were locked inside, forced to clean up the items desecrated by the animal he thought was his friend. Beside him, almost straining to hear, he heard a small sniffle.

Egon was facing away from him, fistfuls of pillow stuffing trembling ever so slightly. Ray frowned. Egon never cried, not even when their kayak drifted out from the other boys’, and they were floating away. With no food. As it rained. In mosquito breeding territory. While Egon was in day clothes because he was terrified of water and refused to swim. He made a resolve.

“Don’t cry, Eges! It’s like you’ve never been hollered at before,” he tried joking to alleviate the mood. Egon only turned to look over his shoulder, his face chagrin and his eyes just barely glossy, lips threatening to break out in sobs had he had a little less pride. 

“Hey.” Ray slid into a spot on the scratched up, dusty floor next to him. “You wanna know what the ladies in my family say?” He can remember his mother repeating these words when he would cry for minutes on end over small things, like when Bambi was all alone in the forest, or his sister was out on his bike without asking. Egon didn’t say anything, but kept on peering at Ray through the gap between his frames, a sign to keep talking.

“They all say: ‘Raymond, did anyone die? Is anyone hurt? Will the sun come up tomorrow?” Egon looks at him incredulously, unamused by the teachings of Heartland mothers. Ray keeps going.

“Egon, did anyone die?” 

“Egon, was anyone hurt?”

“The camp ranger when Maria Skłodowska-Curie scratched him.”

“Egon, will the sun come up tomorrow?” No tangible response.

Ray unconsciously moves a little closer, scraped and dirty knee brushing Egon’s slightly cleaner one. Egon would be damned if he didn’t notice, but what to make of it was hard. Ray was always moving, like a motor that never knew when it ran out of gas. It was different from other boys their age, he wasn’t ever trying to fulfill the societal pressure to be physical, or whatever the reason young boys felt the need to wrestle or hit or roughhouse. It was almost like he was…searching for stimuli. Egon actively avoided it, he knew what limited things he enjoyed and he stuck to those things. But being here, with Ray, challenged him. He was a constant, but a chaotic one. Egon was puzzled, and whether his face grew warm because of these discoveries, coming down from almost crying, or an unknown 3rd thing, he couldn’t deduce.

“My mom says there’s bad trouble. That’s stuff you can’t fix easy, like hurt feelings or broken windows.” Ray tries as hard to be as smart as his mom, as insightful. As open and caring. Egon sees it, and he’s never met the woman.

‘But there’s good trouble too,” Ray grins, sickening optimism breaking through again. “Scientists make good trouble. It’s stuff that works out. Like making a mess when you make the girl down the street cookies.” Egon lets out an amused puff of air through his nose.

“Or,” Ray interjects, scared of alienating his friend with the analogy for whatever reason, “growing your hair out despite your mom not wanting you to.” His smile was knowing as he dipped his head into Egon’s space. He quickly sat up a little straighter.  “Because- uh, it looks nice! I wish my hair was curly like that, my sister says I’ll be bald by 20. Not that bald isn't cool! Sigmund Freud was bald…A lot of…Jewish guys…are bald…” He almost whispered, his mouth snapping shut. Raymond Stantz never whispered, maybe a stage whisper if the situation was dire. He toyed with the sand in between floorboards, head down.

Egon could only breathe out a laugh, shaking his head slightly as he stuffed a ruined pillowcase into a trash bag. “Good trouble.”

He doesn’t feel 12 right now. And he’s sure Ray doesn’t either.

So days of good trouble followed them, and in turn they spent most of their time “grounded”, locked in their bunk for entire days while their cabin mates were free. The first day was a little rough, Ray watched on as his friends excavated fake Egyptian artifacts, hands on the glass almost comically as Egon sat, reading. They both agreed their jailing was uncalled for, and that some teenagers couldn’t really “ground them”, so with Egon sputtering under Ray’s 12 year old weight, they clammored out the bathroom window and into the woods. 

They were able to conduct their experiments, test any hypothesis that arises, away from everyone else. They searched for ancient ruins, tried carbon dating rocks (to no avail) and built god knows what out of any metal and scrap they could find. They were back every night, findings scrawled in a notebook and supplies haphazardly tucked under Ray’s bunk. 

This wasn’t a foolproof way of operating, and they would get caught with a soldering iron or thermos of motor oil every now and then, and then days stuck in the cabin became more and more common. For whatever reason, no counselor thought to lock the windows.

Miraculously, they had streaks of good behavior. And they were allowed to sit at campfires with the other boys, though they were stared like criminals until the stories at hand caught campwide attention.

A counselor leaned in close to the fire, fingers wiggling and voice dark as he recalled the stories of spirits trapped in bathrooms, eternally tethered to the lake. The other boys refused to believe him, partly because all the ghosts he spoke of were girls, partly because “ghosts weren’t science”. Both Ray and Egon went back to their cabin early, and silently, smores in hand.

Egon sat on his bed, as always, reading a book, but not the same, thick one with worn pages Ray had gotten used to seeing but never asking about. His head appears in the corner of Egon’s vision, climbing onto his bunk. He simply moves his legs to make room, finding himself not minding how his blanket will wrinkle and smell like Ray.

“I have to tell you something.”

Egon blinks once, eyes widening. He sighs, reaching behind his pillow for a pen and notepad. “This was bound to happen eventually. When did it start?”

“A few years ago, why?”

Egon blinked again, discarding the notes. “We’re thinking of different things.”

“I’m talking about…me believing in ghosts!” He lets it spill out like a rotten secret. He can tell that such a smart guy like Egon would just laugh in his face at the thought, but he can’t hold it in anymore. Ghosts were his thing! They’ve been his thing forever- supplied by an endless trove of paranormal books at his disposal at the bookstore his mother worked at, and summers spent in the deep history of the semi-rural United States. He was 100% a believer, from the dead opossum his neighbor is convinced haunts her basement to ancient demons to aliens watching over him every night. Ghosts, and how to see them, were always running through his mind. It was why he wanted to pursue science, not just because machines were his first love, but because with every discovery he poured over he was closer to making contact.

“Do you…think they’re real?” Ray’s heart beat in his ears, his friend’s expression unreadable.

“Duh.”

Ray could hit the ceiling then and there. His nervousness dissipated as he smiled, hard, probably the hardest he had smiled since June, not when he got an old microscope to work with Egon’s help or he found a way to get steady radio signals, but now. He lept of the bed with fervor, so much so that Egon scrambled after him for fear of his knees buckling. Unscathed, he ducked under his bunk and felt around for something. He emerged with a large, worn out pillow case.

Dumping its contents onto the ground, they tons of were old paranormal journals, ghost stories, photo albums. Egon wondered if this was what Christmas felt like. Breaking out of his stupor, he found his bag tucked neatly in a hidden corner, and took out 3 books. Each had a library sticker, a testament to how little freedom he had to indulge in his interests.

“Part of the reason I came here was to test its psychokinetic energy,” He explained, “my parents would eviscerate me if they found out.”

Ray could jump for joy right then and there. For seemed like hours, probably 30 minutes, they indulged themselves in stories, theories, methods. For once, despite his easily made friends and large family, Ray felt seen on a new (and intellectual) level. For once, in light of his quiet life and authoritative family, Egon felt like fate, and being destined to meet someone, was real.

They ended up sprawled out on the floor, books open around them, plans for this machine and that computer drawn out. “Have you read about the Banshee of Tupper Lake?” He offered suspensefully. Egon didn’t speak his answer, his eyes conveying his interest as he turned his head to his friend.

Ray lifted his hands in the air, almost painting the story he’d read in “Old Tales of Old Spooks in The NorthEast”. “In 1872, peak ghost season, there was a town out here, on the very soil we’re sleeping on! It was sizable, a few hundred, but they were all mormons. I know! Mormons, all the way in New York? Anyway, it’s said they’re only here because someone, or some thing chased them out of Pennsylvania. In the summer of 72, 1872 that is, women were going mad. Running into the lake, screaming mad. The town became mostly men, and they had no choice to marry what girls were left. One night, during the world’s awkwardest wedding, one of the mad women named Mary Crocket rose out the water, rotted body and all, proclaiming that the next man to marry off a little girl was gonna turn up drowned the next day.”

Egon stared at the ceiling, as if Ray’s words were projecting the very moment above the pair. He turned back. “Fascinating. And progressive for Victorian era Mormons.”

No words were passed between them for what felt like forever.

“We gotta see her”

“Absolutely.”

That was easier said than done, as they waited weeks for the right time. They conducted smaller experiments, like testing each other every day for psychic powers, though their results were never favorable. Ray noted that he would need to find…maybe a tarot reader or a really skilled psychologist to help with this part of their study. They tried communicating with the 50 year old statue that greeted campers on their way in, but they never got a response. Ray tinkered with Egon’s fairly primitive PKE meter fashioned out an old radio, and promised that if he ever wanted to visit his house when summer ended, he’d get him the proper electronic additions for a proper reading. In the process, they were “grounded” more days out of the week than otherwise.

One morning, the day Ray proposed would have the best conditions (humidity, camp taking a hike all the way down the opposite side of the lake, insect activity), the boys sat on, watching everyone else prepare for their trek. 

“You delinquents better enjoy yourselves here, and think long and hard about what you’ve done. Joey, grab your bug spray.” Ray didn’t think he was deserving of being talked down to by a 16 year old with red hair, tube socks, and braces, but there he was. 

The cabin cleared out, and as soon as they disappeared on the horizon, Ray jumped up, grabbing his emergency camera (which he borrowed without telling his mom) and his bag, full of everything they’d need. He offered Egon his rain boots and coat, but he was proud to turn around and see his friend was already well equipped. Crossing along the bank of the river, Ray proposes it would be easier to find her place of death if they went through a shortcut in the trees, and as he started to disappear in the flora, Egon didn’t have much of a chance to protest.

Not only was it humid, but it was hot. Peak heat in the last few weeks of August beat down onto Egon’s head, and he was reconsidering having grown his thick hair out this much as it felt like a weight rather than an act of autonomy. Mosquitos and sharp, untamed grass grazed his ankles like barbs, and he sweat profusely under his raincoat. This was the price of science, however, what if she wanted them to follow her into the lake? He wouldn’t do it, but he wasn’t messing up a good shirt. Ray, somehow, didn’t complain once, though sweat and condensation was visible on his skin as he panted, still smiling.

Ray stopped, and Egon followed suit as he looked around. Ray didn’t say anything as he pulled out his copy of “Old Tales” for cross referencing, and Egon took the opportunity to relax. He bent over a bit, catching his breath, until he felt something brush his cheek. Unmoving, he could hear the buzz of a bee, and suddenly, the pinch and surge of venom.

“Raymond”

“Huh?”

“Reach in my bag and grab my epipen.” Egon eased himself to the ground, staying calm.

Ray’s eyes widen as big as saucers. “You got stung?” He asks, a fairly dumb question, as he drops his book.

“Grab my epipen.”

“Oh, oh geez. You’re not gonna die , right Eges?” Ray stutters, wringing his hands. Oh god, his face was turning red.

“Not if you get my epipen.”

“You're…gonna die…” Ray teared up at the thought, before full on weeping. 

“RAY! Get my epipen.” Egon could feel his eyes swelling shut. It was a little harder to breathe as he panicked himself.

“And…you’ll never get to see my radium collection or my dog…” He blubbered into his hands.

“PUT THE NEEDLE IN MY LEG!” 

Ray shuffled over at the worst time to be shuffling, digging into his friend's bag and pulling out things that were clearly not an epipen. “Is this it?” He sniffled, words barely intelligible as he held up a regular, ballpoint pen.

‘It’s an orange box with the words ‘Epipen’.” Ray recovered it, hands shaking. 

“Take it out, pull the cap off..” Ray’s face was wet with tears and snot.

“Stab it into my leg. Fast.” Egon took in a hiss of air as he braced for a pain that would never come.

Ray’s pupils shrunk. He wailed, leaning against Egon’s slowly asphyxiating and swollen body, going on about having to hurt him and losing his best friend. It would’ve touched Egon, if he still had the ability to see and feel his tongue. He wouldn’t mind dying here, if it was next to Ray- at least there was a chance of haunting the boy until he went insane. He could visit Einstein, compare notes. Tea with Louis Pasteur ought to be interesting.

His thoughts of passing on, unlike Ray’s crying, ceased as he heard many different footsteps approaching, and commotion as his leg was punctured by the anti-venom.

Their time at camp was, to say the least, cut short. Egon spent 2 days in hospital to monitor his reaction. His parents were silent the entire visit, not commenting on his hair or the fact he was ghosthunting when he almost died. To make things worse, his father smiled when addressed by a nurse. He knew he was in for it when he was discharged. Maybe a year of cleaning the chimney? Swimming lessons? He shuddered at the thought.

All wasn’t lost, surprisingly. Ray’s parents apologized about 100 times to the Spenglers, promising that “Ray was a smart boy who makes dumb decisions” and “he gets it from his father’s side” . He felt oddly at ease at seeing Mrs. Stantz, a strong-looking, full figured woman with short blond hair, green eyes, and wrinkles around her red lipstick and warm eyes from smiling, grabbing his hand and doting on him more than his nurses. Mr. Stantz was tall, and had a short beard, hair slightly red, and looked just as strong as his wife, eyes equally as kind as voice as boisterous, as Egon always thought a dad should be. He felt safe when the man asked him “how ya holdin’ up, buddy?” Hm. Many developments to be taken away here.

To his displeasure, he got the least amount of time with Ray. He was hidden behind his mother’s back in guilt, until he worked up the courage to apologize, taking to crying again as he threw himself onto Egon in a tight hug. 

He blinks a few times as the boy tears stain the collar of his hospital gown. “Ray, did anyone die?” Ray weakly laughed against his friend.

They spent the rest of their time going over the piles of research they conducted, mishap not taking away their zeal to study their shared field of interest. Ray had even brought his own copy of “Tobin’s Spirit Guide”, gifting it to Egon because he knew his borrowed books would have to be relinquished soon. He even traded addresses, so they could continue to write. Soon enough, hospital staff were ushering them out, but not before the Stantz family left behind gifts of pie, bean chili, fried chicken, cinnamon rolls, and even more pie. Egon waited until his parents were gone before he ravished the containers.

Upon their return home, both boys were justly punished. Egon’s worst nightmares got even more hellish- he was put into dance classes. Ray was kicked out the camp for life as if he’d lose sleep over it past age 14 (he lost an hour or two every few months) and he took up doing every family member’s chores until his parents thought he’d learned a lesson. It got better though, especially when letters with Einstein stamps appeared in his mail. He tried to continue fulfilling his need to be outdoors by signing up for boy scouts, “there is absolutely no way anyone can get hurt here, mom” and wrote to Egon urging him to join as well, only getting a full sheet of paper with the word “No.” His loss, he lost 5 cents. Ray was kicked out in the winter for, again, stealing smoke alarms from his scout leader’s house and taking their Americium.

“I found it, Ray,” Egon tilts the paper in his friend’s direction. 

“Alleged ghost sightings along the lakeshore.” The alarm goes off just then, as Janine leans over the staircase to fill them in. 

“Some camp up North saw a lady crawling out the lake.”

[dolliedarlin]

DADA! | ONE ⏤Denki K.

BAKUSQUAD ENDEARMENT SERIES PART 3 : DENKI KAMINARI 

SUM. :  it was supposed to be more than a one night stand and a great weekend spent together; there was a connection, the time spent together was special...so why did it all just stop? 

PAIR. : Denki Kaminari x Single Mother Reader

LENGTH : 3.7k

G. : misunderstandings ; so much misunderstanding! ; unnecessary suffering on both sides ; single parent au ; single mother reader ; father kaminari ; but he doesn’t know that yet ; prohero au ; timeskip au ; angst for now ; slight fluff ; new beginnings? ; kirishima is a good friend ; kaminari is going through some stuff ; mutual longing

A/N : sorry it took so long to put this out, i really didn’t like the first several drafts of it and the plot arc needed a lot of tweaking. this is also just the start so it’s a bit short but there’s a lot to come, i promise! enjoy the read, dolls! all my love x

New beginnings need an equally new environment so that the pristine setting can sufficiently accommodate your grave yearning for a clean slate. It’s only been a few days but there’s a particular type of comfort that comes with living in a new place. Not only that, it saves you from ever remembering the once happy and now bitter memories held in your old home. 

It’s silly, really.   

To think that you would move houses just to keep from being reminded of the magical night and weekend you spent with a certain electrifying prohero. Nevertheless, here you are, fully moved into a recently available penthouse apartment and with a noticeable bump in your tummy as you were already in your second trimester. 

You can be rightfully bitter towards the man responsible for your current lonely circumstance but knowing that you would soon have such a precious gift to centre your new life around was enough motivation for you to keep going. 

You’re capable of letting a man go but not your baby. 

Despite having a new backdrop in your everyday life, oftentimes, when you have an absent pause to think about random things occurring at that moment, you fall victim to those same sweetly haunting memories. Underlined by a warm gentleness that tries to comfort you in spite of the hollowed emptiness it carves into your chest, leaving you to ache for the missing piece that slipped through your fingers. On your lips is a small, heavy smile and brows are stitched up and furrowed tightly; it’s a perfect illustration of your consistent internal conflict. 

That weekend was such a complicated and jumbled mix of emotions and experiences. It felt as if you had lived through an entire high school romance with this man in the span of only 2 days. He had made such good love to you and didn’t stop, even outside bedroom activities. After such a deeply passionate and heated few hours, he spent equally as much time, if not more, cherishing you and worshipping your entire being, not just your body. He made you laugh so hard that, at times, you cried. And the rest of your time spent together, he made you feel so loved, your heart ached with a longing that made you question why you hadn’t met him sooner. 

Those two blissful days were spent away from all outside sources, your phones tucked away and silent, leaving the two of you to immerse yourselves in your own secluded world - a paradise only meant for you two. Sometimes, he cooked for you and sometimes you cooked for him. His dishes were a rather poor and sad attempt but seeing the determination in his gaze over the stovetop made the food taste better than any gourmet restaurant dish you have ever indulged in. He serenaded you over karaoke, cuddled you close through ghibli films and never stopped peppering you with kisses and affectionate nuzzles. He was childish and handsome and a dream to be with. 

Those two blissful days were spent away from all outside sources, your phones tucked away and silent, leaving the two of you to immerse yourselves in your own secluded world - a paradise only meant for you two. Sometimes, he cooked for you and sometimes you cooked for him. His dishes were a rather poor and sad attempt but seeing the determination in his gaze over the stovetop made the food taste better than any gourmet restaurant dish you have ever indulged in. He serenaded you over karaoke, cuddled you close through ghibli films and never stopped peppering you with kisses and affectionate nuzzles. He was childish and handsome and a dream to be with. 

God! You were so in love! So deeply in love with him.  

He wasn’t like any other guy that had tried to court you before and, even though you were now in such a miserable situation, you could never bring yourself to regret going to the charity gala or spending the following weekend with him. 

If only he didn’t break your heart so cruelly. 

Was it all an act? 

You didn’t want to believe it but what other option was there for you? The only person who could possibly ease the turmoil in your head and chest was not there to do so. 

You vividly remember the Monday morning you saw him last as you were rushing to work. It was the first time you were ever late to attend a meeting with an important and recurring client… 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’m sorry to be in such a rush like this, Denki,” you apologised, downing your coffee and regretting it the instant your tongue blistered up from its hot temperature. 

“No worries, beautiful,” he stands from his seat at the island counter, “I’ll be heading to work soon enough as well,” he pulls you in by the waist and passionately locks you in a deep kiss, one that you never wanted to pull away from.

“Here’s my number, please call me soon,” you pant from the zealous kiss, hurriedly scribbling down your digits on a sticky note and rushing off, “feel free to leave whenever and don’t worry about locking the door on your way out, the housekeeper will do it; i already messaged them! Goodbye!”

‘I love you!’ it was on the tip of your tongue but you hesitated- 

“Will do! I love you babe! Take care!” 

Smiling bitterly at the memory, you clenched your hands into tight fists beside you and dug your nails into your palm, why did he say that when he never intended to keep his word? 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Saved from your gradually drowning mind, you rush to the door, your hand instinctively placed on your belly as you open it to reveal a woman and a little girl with cute blonde hair ribboned up into adorable twin pigtails. 

“Why hello there,” you coo softly at the adorable little girl rocking back and forth on her heels, “what brings you two here?” you smile at the two. 

“Good morning, I hope we’re not disturbing you. I’m Yua and this is Katsumi, we saw you move in last week and Katsumi here wanted to gift you something,” both you and Yua turn to the little girl as she bounces up with her arms raised at you. In her small hands, she held a prettily wrapped gift with a lace ribbon to tie it together. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two, I’m (Y/N). Thank you so much, Katsumi, for your very kind gesture,” offering up two open palms for her to place her gift into, which she promptly did with a widened smile.

“You’re welcome! I hope you find it yummy!” At her comment, you bring the gift to your nose and take in the sweet smell of baked goods. 

“It smells divine; it must be very good!” you smile widely and giggle when Katsumi cheers happily. 

“Take good care of your place, it was mine and daddy’s old home,” 

“Oh?” you raise a brow, gently prompting her to elaborate. 

“Daddy and I moved into Mommy’s place now so we can see each other every day, hehehe~” you look up at Yua, who smiles bashfully. In your head, you can piece together their story and feel a warmth bloom in your chest. What a cute little family. 

“I’ll make sure to take good care of your old home, Katsumi, thank you for the present,” you bend down to gently pat her head, lifting your spare hand off your pregnant belly in order to do so. 

“Oh! Congratulations!” Yua voices in excitement, finally noticing your pregnancy as you straighten up and feel your cheeks get warm. 

“Th-thank you,”

“Oh? Did something special happen?”

You share a smile with Yua at Katsumi’s comment before explaining, “I’m expecting a baby and I have four more months to go,”

“Oh!” Katsumi’s pretty ruby eyes sparkle with interest and you have to suppress a giggle, “Is your baby gonna be a boy or a girl like me?”

“It would be wonderful to have a sweet little girl like you Katsumi-chan but I’m having a little boy instead,” feeling that the conversation will go for longer than you expected, you gesture for them to come in and sit in the living room. Happy to oblige, they take up room on your sofa as you go about plating the baked goodies you were gifted. Yua had promptly offered to help but you waved her off gently with a smile. Despite being 5 months along, you can still do this much. 

“Like Ren!”

“Who’s Ren?” you ask curiously, centering the plated cookies and hand out complimentary glasses of milk. Naturally, Katsumi digs in as soon as she’s given the chance to as Yua reddies a napkin to wipe at her messy cheeks. A very cute mother and daughter pair. 

“He’s my best friend! He’s super nice! You’ll like him too!” Katsumi says through a mouthful of cookies that she washes down with big gulps of her milk. 

“Then I’m sure I will like him instantly, any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” you smile as Yua offers Katsumi her glass of milk as the little girl had already finished hers.

“That reminds me!” Yua claps her hands together and smiles in delight, “Akina, Ren’s mother, is also pregnant, I think you’re further along than she is but we should all get together for lunch or something,”  

“Oh? That might be nice, I have nothing better to do so making a new pregnant friend might do me some good, especially since this is my first pregnancy,” you giggle as Yua joins you. 

“That’s perfect! It’ll be Akina’s second pregnancy so I’m sure she can help you out if you need some advice. I’ll try to get everyone together soon! Can I have your number?”

“Of course!” you’re so happy for the companionship, even though your family supports you, they live far away and have their own lives to worry about. You weren’t openly judged by them but your family largely lives off the philosophy of independence, a concept you hate but are somewhat grateful for as it’s led to your success. It’s only when you finally realise how lonely you’ve become that you despise the teachings of your family. For your baby, you will live differently and with more love and affection; the first step towards that will be having a stable friendship group. Yua hands over her phone with a new contact page open, you’re quick to type in your contact details, there is a pause however as you realise you’re typing your work contact and pause to remember your personal number instead. Flushing at the embarrassing delay, you hand back Yua’s phone with haste.

“When will you be free?” Yua asks as she tucks her phone away, the two of you leaving Katsumi to devour the gift she made for you; you didn’t mind, just seeing her eat made you feel full. 

“I’d be happy to meet up tomorrow, I’ve been feeling kind of lonely,” you bashfully admit as Yua gives you a warm smile. 

“That sounds perfect! I know I’m available tomorrow and I’m pretty sure Akina is too but I’ll have to double check. Do you have a favourite dessert or common pregnancy craving? I can bake us something nice to share,” 

You ponder for a moment and shrug, “Anything sweet will do it for me,” the comment makes Yua laugh and nod in understanding. 

“I’m sure I can whip something up then,” Yua then turns to the contentedly smiling little girl beside her, who mercilessly consumed half the chunky cookies she had brought over, “Katsumi it’s time to go, cupcake,”

“Okay! Thank you for having us over and for sharing your cookies with us miss (Y/N)!” She grins brightly with crumbs all over her mouth and cheeks and you have to resist reaching forward to squish them between your fingers, mentally thanking Yua for interrupting your urges by wiping at her messy appearance once more. 

“It’s no problem, sweetie, please come over again soon, I already love having you as company,” the praise makes her nose turn up slightly as she hums in self-gratification. Katsumi had, at first, been worried that you may be like all the horrible women chasing after her father but she was glad her mom encouraged her to be a good neighbour first; you’re a really nice lady and you’re already good friends with her mom so that’s extra good points in your favour.

“And if you need anything at all, we’re right next door so please give us a shout,” Yua offers, “Katsuki says pregnancy is as tough as being a prohero and always offers to help Akina and Eijiro whenever they need him, so we happily extend the same courtesy to you,”

“Thank you so much!‘ you beam happily, incredibly grateful for their selflessness. If only your own family was this openly supportive and kind. 

With a warm goodbye and promise to meet again soon, you see your two new friends out and return to finally enjoy your first cookie. Humming is content, you sigh from bliss. Such a sweet taste. 

“You’re really off your game, Denki, you need to sort out whatever it is that’s throwing you off. It’s becoming a danger to everyone on the field,” Kirishima comments as the two sit in opposite hospital beds with bandages covering their unnecessarily sustained injuries. 

“I-I’m sorry man…” Kaminari sighs in exasperation, seated at the edge of his bed with his hands grabbing at his blonde hair as he leans forward. The shame swirling within him force his eyes and face away from his close friend and teammate’s eyes, “I just can’t get her out of my head…how could she do that to me?” the blonde begins to ramble as his red-headed friend looks on at him in sympathy, “Give me a non-existent number? Did she not want to keep in contact after all? I’ve dated many girls trying to settle down and I thought she was the one! She’s everything I could ever want in a girl! Beautiful, kind, smart, funny, put together! She actually laughs at my silly jokes, and she has the most beautiful laugh too…” Kaminari smiles and falls back with a dreamy sigh, “She has me on a leash and I want to love her with my everything but instead she plays such a cruel joke on me,” he almost sobs at his miserable reality, “I can take rejection, I’ve had to go through so many already but this…this was too much…she knows I love her, why would she do that to me?”

“Look man…” Kirishima rubs the back of his neck, deep in thought and concern for one of his closest friends, “I don’t know…how can you say you love someone after just one weekend with them?”

“I just do, okay?!” Kaminari snaps, sitting up to glare at his friend, “I love her and that’s not going to change! Don’t try to convince me otherwise, I know we did things backwards but I would do anything for her. She’s not like those other girls, I can see right through them, they’re pretty but (Y/N) is beautiful. They’re sweet but (Y/N) is kind and gentle and loving and funny and charming and mean, in the best way! She makes it so easy to love her. If I could, I would give her the world…” The frustration and sadness coursing through him brings about a static to surround Kaminari’s frame, charging the surrounding metals momentarily. 

“Have you tried going to her place?”

“I did but I was too late! She was never there when I went to visit and the last time I went, the gardeners working on the estate told me she had moved out! I spent the best, most blissful two days of my life in that house and she just left it!” Kaminari feels the prickling of tears surface as he breaks down, the heartbreak suffocating him and making it unbearable to even exist. Unable to look at his friend’s broken down state much longer, Kirishima steps forward and pulls the blonde up into a standing hug. 

“Why don’t you take a break from hero work, at least? Clearly you need time to think and get yourself together, it’s better you do that away from villains who could cause you and others harm,” Kirishima advises with gentle comforting pats on his best friend’s back. 

“...m-maybe you’re right,” Kaminari sighs, the emotional exhaustion evident in his droopy eyes and slouching figure, “look man, I’m sorry for being such a bum…I know you and Akina are expecting and that’s great news I just-...I’m sorry for making this all about my shitty love life,”

“Think nothing of it, Akina’s more worried about cooking for and feeding you herself; she says you’ve lost too much weight these past couple of months and insists on cooking extra portions so that I can bring it over to you. Just get those muscles back and stop worrying about my pregnant wife, okay?…” a scary look begins to cross over Kirishima’s face as he looks down at his blonde friend and colleague, “Because we all know how bad stress is for the baby, right?” Despite Kirishima’s grinning face, Kaminari felt a shiver run down his spine and nods frantically. 

“Yeah yeah! Of course, man! Sorry about that!”

When Kaminari had work, at least he was minorly distracted before his mind wandered off to you. Now that he's on leave for ‘mental wellbeing’, as he’s submitted it, he has nothing to distract him and so his mind is always wandering off to the time you two spent together. What bliss. If heaven was a time and place on earth, it would be those two euphoric days. 

The first time he saw you, you made his heart stop beating and when you flashed him an innocent smile, the surroundings blurred around him, making you the sole focus of his stare. In that one moment, he already knew that he had to make you his and himself yours. So he approached you, nervous as could be but after the introductory ‘hello’s, conversation flowed smoothly, better than smoothly, in fact. It was as if the two of you had spent all your lives together as close friends and were catching up on things after some time spent apart. You shared laughs and got closer and closer until eventually, the two of you were leaving the venue together and spending the night and weekend at your place. 

The night of the gala didn’t end with just amorous, fiery sex, there was also a lot of affectionate aftercare, timid kisses and pillow talk that ranged from deeply meaningful chatter to musings of the most irrelevant things.

That was the most memorable weekend of Kaminari’s life. 

He never cooks for anyone, primarily because he knows that he’s horrible at it but he did his best to cook you breakfast the following morning and you didn’t berate his cooking skills at all, you just sat down and ate it with a smile on your face. Kaminari never thought you could become even more beautiful but he was wrong. Was it your quirk? A quirk that charms others and makes them submit to you? If so he’d happily be the one to fall for your charm. 

Your time together felt like you were just two normal people in love. He wasn’t a prohero with expectations and responsibilities and you weren’t… He sighs, realising, once again, that he never asked you what you did. Not that it mattered to him, the connection you two shared, the spark that became a flame and continues to burn within him even now, was what truly mattered. It was so easy to get lost in one another and forget about the rest of the world when it was just the two of you that weekend. His one regret was that, it’s now so difficult to find you himself other than the few things he does know. 

Everything hurts now but Kaminari doesn’t regret spending that weekend with you. He will never regret loving and being loved by you no matter how much it hurts him to think about it.

Back from his mental health break, Kaminari is on patrol once again. His time spent away helped him centre himself and better handle his thoughts atop doing his hero work but he still can’t stop thinking about you. It’s never going to be easy forgetting someone who he felt destined to meet. 

Today he was patrolling a relatively calm district just to ease into the work day. The morning was quiet and peaceful, some fans politely held conversation with him and took some photos every once in a while but it mainly remained serene until a swarming crowd apprehends his attention as he nears the exit point of the park he had been walking through. The mob’s violent movement as an angry horde of bodies made a scowl form on his face, their demanding shouts for answers weren’t hard to miss nor were their flash photography. Paparazzi, the lowest of all scum.  

[isopod-lesbian]

In 2015, I played Life is Strange; I was 17 years old, and hadn't quite realized I was a trans woman yet. For me back then, LiS was a fantasy more than anything; not because I wished I had Max's powers, but because I got to play as a young woman falling in love with her best friend. Even before I could articulate why, I felt this deep ache of longing for what could have been. By the end of that year, I had come out to myself and my friends, and I still credit LiS for helping me figure things out that way.

When I first played LiS, I felt like the "Bay" ending was the most appropriate for Max's story. If LiS is a game about growing up, then sacrificing Chloe is a hard but necessary choice to make, and I believed it was the right one. I never questioned the idea that good people will sacrifice their own happiness for the good of society, or for the people they love. So, when I began adulthood, I did so with purpose, but without passion. I did all the things I needed to do to survive and make it out into the world on my own, and I was miserable for most of the time.

When I came back to the LiS fandom in the past couple of years, I got a chance to re-examine my favorite game with a new perspective. I immersed myself in fanfic, I indulged my nostalgia, and I began to reinterpret this work that shaped me years before. I looked at the "Bae" ending especially with fresh eyes; I started seeing it not as a selfish decision, but an unselfish one, a choice made out of love for a girl who was let down by everyone who was supposed to care for her before. How cruel it was to imagine Chloe's story ending with her bleeding out in a bathroom, still thinking that nobody cared for her.

Now, I'm 25. I'm an adult in every sense of the word, and despite everything, it seems like my life is...kind of working out. I'm almost a year into HRT, I have a job that lets me live a reasonably nice life, and I'm planning on moving in with my girlfriend. When I started True Colors, I tried to temper my expectations, and hoped that my nostalgia for the past wouldn't inhibit my enjoyment of a new entry in the series. So, 6 years after the first, I played a Life is Strange game; and, for the second time, it showed me exactly what I needed to see.

If Life is Stange is a game about growing up, True Colors is a game about what happens after. It's a game about starting over, about finding a place to call home and people to call family. Where Max's powers let her find the perfect way to get what she wanted or say the right thing, Alex's powers ask her to understand the people around her. Where LiS holds the threat of the Storm over Max's head, Gabe's death in True Colors is just a tragedy that Alex has to process. LiS' central mystery comes down to an evil man doing evil things; True Colors' is the result of an entrenched capitalist machine that operates not out of malice, but out of sheer self-interest.

When I finished True Colors, I was confronted with a choice that felt like the polar opposite of LiS' ending. After all the excitement and emotion, the question posed to Alex first felt almost incidental. Nobody's life hung in the balance, neither choice carried any real emotional consequences, and there was no way of knowing what the ultimate results might be. But as I considered Gabe's vision for Alex, I was struck by how real it felt. How it felt like the choices I was already making in life, and the choices I know are yet to come in my future. I think 17-year-old me would have jumped at the idea of a life of adventure, traveling the country with the girl I love. But now, I can't help but think of how many chances we really get to find a home. I doubt it's a high number. So I chose to stay. And I can only hope that, whenever I'm given that choice in my life, I am brave enough to take a chance on whatever place I've found for myself.

[vipsonly]

Venus moves into Scorpio.

In Vedic Astrology, Venus just moved into Scorpio! Now is a time of deep passionate love. Although it may not always be said, it is constantly felt. It is unconditional love OR can be extremely toxic and terrible. Remember: If it hurts, it isn't love. Check below to know how it effects you individually.

Venus transits 1h / Scorpio Ascendant

You are entering a time of feeling good about yourself and the way you look. You also are feeling really good about who you are. Many people are taking notice of your attributes and you may receives lots of compliments. People are highly attracted to you during this time and may flirt with you. Old friends reach out and want to make plans. Distant friends contact you more to create deeper bonds. Love is coming in! Abundance comes in from your outer world.

Venus transits 2h / Libra Ascendant

Money and financial abundance is coming you. You are feeling secure financially and in concern to material possessions. This is a good time to acknowledge how you feel emotionally and if you're secure in that area. How do you feel about yourself? Where do you feel insecure? You are going to be working hard diligently and silently. You're making big moves.

Venus transits 3h / Virgo Ascendant

You are getting more involved in your community! Maybe you are helping out neighbors, or maybe you're taking on a position in your local organization. Or maybe you're just hanging out with your siblings more. Now is a good time for short travels and quick trips, be spontaneous. Also be open to communications and confessions of love... <3

Venus transits 4h / Leo Ascendant

Happiness and love in your family and home life. Your mother or other maternal figure may be going through a great period right now that is attributing to your good feelings. It's possible there's some sort of fertility in the family, but that's only for some. You may spend more time at home right now, it's okay to relax. You're eating more and drinking more. Indulge in the finer things in life!

Venus transits 5h / Cancer Ascendant

Possible new love interests coming in! If in a committed relationship then look out for some romantic gestures <3. You may be indulging in different forms of entertainment like films, movies, videos, songs, plays, music, etc. Enjoy it, follow your curiosity.

Venus transits 6h / Gemini Ascendant

You are developing new routines! Everyday was getting boring so you're switching it up a bit to create a more comfortable routine. The way you were living before just wasn't realistic or sustainable. Also you may be getting a new pet or pet-sitting during this time :)

Venus transits 7h / Taurus Ascendant

Watch out! Love is in the air! Love from the past may return, new love may be found, or seeds may be planted for a later love. Beware of triggers and past emotions resurfacing. It's likely to happen. Take a deep breath in and out. Instead of worrying about if they like you, ask yourself if you even like them. Get to know them. If you are in a committed relationship, it is becoming deeper. Superficiality is being cut out OR the surface/tip of the iceberg is being embraced. With Scorpio it's all or nothing. Your connections are about to be boring as hell or completely alter the course of your life.

Venus transits 8h / Aries Ascendant

You are changing habits and going through a transformation. You are asking yourself: How can I nurture myself more? You are giving yourself more life and more love. This is a beautiful energy actually! You may lose some relations and reconsider the way you feel about people in your life. Embrace the change you're going through. Embrace this mini-death. It'll be okay, you've been through more.

Venus transits 9h / Pisces Ascendant

Your curiosity is guiding you! You may be studying something right now. Maybe this is formally through schooling or just on your own time. You're investigating and further discovering. This is also higher knowledge so you may be learning more about religion or spirituality. You are feeling good and taking a light journey. You are aware that there is no rush and you're eager to be a student of life.

Venus transits 10h / Aquarius Ascendant

This is an amazing time for your career! You're making huge moves and it'll pay off! You may get a new job, a new promotion, or some sort of new opportunity. If you have interviews scheduled, trust they'll go well! Embrace opportunities that come your way! This is a great time to expand your public image :)

Venus transits 11h / Capricorn Ascendant

You are deepening your connections with your community, organizations, and friends! You are also further deepening your vision of the future. Where you see yourself in 5 years? What's your plan for next year to work toward that vision? Your friends are supporting you right now and your aspirations. Dream big, imagine reaching your highest potential!

Venus transits 12h / Sagittarius Ascendant

Past loves and connections may resurface. They may pop up in the 3D-Physically OR they may haunt you mentally. Now is a time to do shadow work and ground yourself. You will feel really good some times but awful other times. This is going to be a hard but extremely healing time. If you hold a lot of grief in your heart this is going to be painful. Now is a time to feel, release, then heal. Come to terms with who you have let go, who has walked away from you, and who has made you angry or hurt you. Acknowledge all the feelings you hold and forgive yourself too. Take time everyday to silence your mind and tune into the knowledge within.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Chapter 7- Clandestine

Guys. I am not being dramatic when I say that I suffered from so much Writer's Block during this chapter. I know it's not amazing, but that this point I just needed to put something out there. Please please leave notes and comments and kudos, I need encouragement. CW: Walburga is in this one, guys. Nuff said? If not, transphobia, dysphoria, child abuse, unsafe binding, misgendering, deadnaming, all of those things.

The dream was always the same, now. His mother and father, backing him into a corner, wands raised, jeering at him.

Screaming his old name.

Repeating insults and promising horrible things, choking him with frills and lace.

He would always wake with a scream.

Barty and Evan swore he was cracking with the pressure of exams. Barty suggested drugs. Regulus chucked pillows at him.

-

“We have a plan, Reg,” Sirius reassured him one warm day in May.

It was true. They had a plan. That was all Regulus could remind himself as the days continued to warm.

A month at home. Then, he was to go to Dorcas’s and Sirius was to go to the Potters’.

A month. He could do that. He’d done it before. He had Sirius.

“I still don’t understand why Mother and Father agreed to my going to Cas’s house at all,” Regulus murmured back, not meeting Sirius’s concerned eyes.

That was how Sirius usually looked at him now- with worry and concern. He hated making Sirius worry, hated making anyone worry, but It didn’t help that he was a mess, with deep circles under his eyes and constantly wincing when he moved because of how tight he kept the bandages.

Sirius suggested, once, that he loosen them, but he refused. He hated the feeling of being without them. The nausea. The cold chills. And they kept him grounded, somehow. A reminder that he could fight against his body. Even though he felt, some days, like he was losing. Losing against everything, really.

“I…I think they’re just thankful that you want to be friends with a girl,” Sirius suggested gently.

Regulus mulled that over. He’d always rejected associating with girls, always pushed so much to not be grouped with his girl cousins, that his parents were probably rejoicing at the idea of him spending time with a pureblood girl. As if maybe Dorcas would have a good influence on him.

“Well, if they think she’ll make me more girly, they have another thing coming,” Regulus chuckled humorlessly. Dorcas was fierce and passionate and intelligent and relentless and bold. But she rejected bows and dresses almost as much as Regulus did.

“Yes, but they don’t have to know that,” Sirius grinned, knocking Regulus with his shoulder.

-

It was strange, how the days seemed to pass faster and faster as it got warmer. It was as if they were trying to run away, like they knew Regulus was grasping to them for dear life, and they would do anything to escape his hold.

The idea that he would only have to be home for a month sustained him. It kept him from completely freaking out. He felt the panic underneath his very skin, but he didn't let it break free.

Admittedly, he got sick of the way Sirius and his friends kept looking at him- like he was going to burst into tears or have some sort of fit. It made it worse. Like they thought he was fragile. Girls were fragile. He was not. He was...he could be...strong. He didn't want to worry anyone.

He was terrified, too, that if he became a burden, people would be less likely to indulge him. That they would see him as an inconvenience and stop helping him.

That was the only problem with the happiness that came with being who he was. He was petrified to lose it. And he needed people's help, at least for now, to continue.

He hated needing them, but he did need them. He needed Sirius's old uniforms and Pandora's biology know-how and Dorcas's haircutting charms. He needed them to call him but his name and remind him he wasn't crazy.

So he held the nerves and emotions inside, fearful of being too much, and reminded himself over and over again.

Only a month. Only a month.

-

His parents still had no idea he was called "Regulus" at school- that he was in the boys' dorms and was accepted as a boy there. He'd managed to hide his original letter from Hogwarts. So, he and Sirius decided he would avoid leaving the train for as long as possible when they arrived. That would stop anyone from referring to him as “Regulus” in front of his parents, and stop his parents from using his old name in front of his friends.

So as the train squealed to a stop and students piled out, he sat in the window, watching those he knew reunite with their families.

Dorcas ran to her exhausted-looking grandparents and hugged them eagerly, allowing her siblings to surround her and embrace her as well. She looked so thrilled, so relieved to see her family. The children were dressed in threadbare clothing but they still looked happy. Their smiles and rosy cheeks somehow made up for their mismatched outfits and array of obvious hand-me-downs.

In stark contrast, across the platform, Barty walked up to a very smartly-dressed man. It was clear this man had money- the way he held himself just oozed affluence. The man, Barty’s father, looked down on him with obvious distaste, gesturing towards Barty’s Slytherin tie. Regulus inhaled a bit as Barty visibly deflated, shrugging and making some sort of halfhearted comment back, only for the man to turn quickly and lead his son from the station. Anger riled a bit in Regulus’s stomach.

He then spotted Evan and Pandora walking slowly and waving goodbye to friends and towards Regulus on the train, looking around for their parents. Regulus realized only a moment after Evan and Pandora, themselves, that their parents weren’t there. His chest constricted as he saw a very meek-looking house elf walk towards them. They exchanged a glance before walking toward the elf, who they seemed to recognize, and the three of them walked towards the Floo connection in the back of the station wordlessly.

As they disappeared, Regulus took a moment to control his fury. Their parents didn’t even come for them. As they returned from their first year of Hogwarts. They sent the house elf. He wanted to punch the wall. He realized with a pang that he wasn't the only one of his friends who was in for a difficult summer.

In an effort to distract himself from this thought, he turned his head to watch someone else. Anyone else. And of course, his eyes found James Potter. They did that a lot.

He was walking toward a tall, handsome man with dark hair and glasses, who was grinning from ear to ear; and a shorter, chubby woman with tan skin and kind eyes, whose hair reached all the way down her back.

It was clear, very quickly, that the man and woman were Potter’s parents. Their features, their warmth, their laughter…even if they weren’t both hugging Potter, it would have been easy to see.

And then Sirius approached, waving a bit hesitantly. And in one fell swoop, the woman pulled Sirius in her arms, making him grin and blush a bit, as the four of them began talking quickly to each other.

And Regulus felt the insane urge to join them. To place himself in the middle of their four-way embrace and just drink in the obvious warmth there.

He felt the slightest tinge of jealousy seep through his body as he watched Sirius so easily meld into their little family, so easily receive love.

While he waited on the train alone.

-

“How was your first year, Regina? I trust you did well?”

The question at dinner that night hit him hard, the name stabbing white-hot, even more than usual after not having heard it for a year. He resisted the urge to upend the table.

What should he say?

“Regulus is top in his class, Mother,” came Sirius’s cold-but-proud voice from across the table.

Regulus fought back the urge to smile at Sirius’s pride. It was true. He’d aced every single one of his final exams.

But there was a beat of silence as it seemed Mother and Father were trying to decide how to react to Sirius’s statement.

Finally, Mother said, in a voice filled with cold fury, “Regulus?”

It was clear what she meant. She did not mean to address him. She meant to ask what Sirius meant by the name. Why he was still using it.

And suddenly, Regulus felt as if he was at a crossroads. He could submit to his parents for the summer, like he had been terrified to do. Play their games, allow them to scare him and control him. Or…

He looked at Sirius, who was looking back at him, that same sympathetic expression on his face. And all at once, he felt a stab of anger and bravery strike him.

He pasted an angelic smile on his face. “Yes, mother?” he asked politely, as if responding to his name being called.

Sirius’s mouth popped open and he grinned.

Regulus felt a moment of triumph and pride.

But then both he and Sirius yelled out at once, an invisible spell striking them both in the face.

“Do not use that name in my house,” Mother growled, chin raised and eyes flashing. "And if you dare embarrass our house with this little...illness anymore, Regina...your father and I will have to resort to more drastic measures.

Fighting back the sense of for guilt getting Sirius hurt but unable to be scared, Regulus just slammed his silverware down and left the room silently.

-

Was it better to get something you’ve yearned for for so long only to have someone try to rip it away from you again? Or just not get it at all?

This was the thing Regulus contemplated constantly over the next few weeks.

His parents were ruthless.

They seemed to still believe he only acted like this at home, that it was still a phase- an act of rebellion- and they had the chance to change it. It was as if they’d made an agreement to come down even harder on him this summer, to try to physically stomp the fight out of him. Like they’d agreed that, if they tried hard enough, they could exorcise any evidence of masculinity in him. Like a demon.

If he dared insist he was a boy, he was locked in his room. If he had the gall to correct anyone on his name, he was hit.

He was refused multiple meals for point-blank rejecting the dresses Mother bought him and had spells shot at him for continuously washing the makeup off his face when she wasn’t looking.

But this year, it was different.

He remembered, last year, the place he had been in. The shell he had become. He had been so tired, so hopeless, so frustrated. He’d tried to fight, but he’d had no idea who he was or how to be who he was. Despite Sirius’s best efforts, he’d never been given a true chance. The fight that had left him and the numbness he had felt had been like a trickle of water into his lungs, slowly drowning him without him even realizing.

But after a year at Hogwarts, a year of living, he couldn’t feel like that again. He couldn’t force himself back into that box. He knew better.

So he found it easier and less scary to fight and take the pain, because he knew it was better this way. Better than the way he reacted when submitting to their expectations or being someone he was not.

So, really, having gotten to be who he was for just a little while gave him the fight to remember who he was when he was being hurt and questioned and screamed at. When they tried to force him to forget.

-

After three weeks, though, it still took a toll.

He survived.

He lost far too much weight from the meals he wasn’t given.

He had layers of magically hidden bruises from his Mother’s wrath.

He winced and groaned as he pulled the bandages around his growing chest tiger still. He had heat rashes, now, and his skin was on fire.

He hated his body.

But he kept quiet. He didn’t allow anyone to see him in pain. He felt like that would be admitting defeat.

He also knew that if he showed his pain too much, Sirius would try to do more for him. And part of him was scared that Sirius would get sick of that. That he would leave him alone. Like he had when he'd gone to Hogwarts the first time.

Only twice did Sirius catch him crying. And both times, Sirius's startled look sent them both into waves of tears.

They survived together.

-

He’d stressed for days about going to Dorcas’s with long hair. He tried not to let it show, but he knew Sirius knew.

At Hogwarts, he cut it regularly. Dorcas knew a charm. But Mother and Father had taken both his and Sirius’s wands, and hidden anything sharp. They’d insisted he would do well to grow it out.

Instead, he worried.

But Sirius snuck into his room the night before they were both due to leave and led him to the bathroom, sitting him in the tub and taking a pair of scissors out from his pocket.

“Where’d you get those?” Regulus breathed, hardly daring to speak in more than a whisper. Mother and Father had been a lot more vigilant about checking to see if they were sneaking into each other’s rooms- they thought that Sirius was a bad influence.

“I sent Procyon to James and asked for a pair. I didn’t tell him why,” Sirius murmured, gently sitting on the edge of the tub behind him and snipping away.

Procyon was the family owl. But he was usually locked in his cage when not in use. “How–”

“Remus taught me how to pick locks the Muggle way,” Sirius cut him off, a smile in his voice. Snip. “It took a few nights of trying, but I finally got him out. Good he got some exercise, it’s not like Mother and Father use him often.”

Walburga and Orion preferred Floo calls or in-person meetings. Something about the post not being trustworthy.

“So they didn’t catch you?” Regulus asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

Snip. “Don’t think so. Hold still, you’re squirming.”

But Regulus had to turn to face Sirius. Again, he was risking being caught and subsequently punished. Just for him. “I…thank you. For doing that.”

Sirius studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. “You’re worth it, Reggie.”

And Regulus turned away, not sure how to respond to that, instead just focusing on the feeling of the cool metal brushing his skin.

-

Let it be known that Sirius did not gain his dramatics in a vacuum. Walburga Black was known to be vindictively theatrical in her own special way.

Or maybe she was just pissed about his hair. Either way, she waited until the morning to tell them: Regulus was only allowed to go to Dorcas’s if she deemed Dorcas and her grandparents “appropriate.”

Regulus panicked. There was no way. Dorcas was the farthest thing from what his parents could count as appropriate- her fiery personality was far from ‘ladylike’ and she certainly would never refer to him as anything other than “Regulus.”

And the worst part was that Regulus had no way to warn her. Sirius had left before him for the Potters, and he was the best at coming up with plans. It all happened in a matter of moments. One second, he was packing, and the next Walburga was insisting she needed to make sure that Regulus would finally be around a 'good influence.' That she no longer would just be sending him through the Floo, she would be apparating him and meeting Dorcas and her family properly. Without leaving much time for argument, she dragged Regulus out the door.

-

Dorcas’s house was small. Especially for a family of seven. As they approached, Regulus took in the run-down lawn and obviously old exterior. The lawn was not cut and the paint of the house was peeling. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought back to the obnoxiously expensive way his parents had decorated their own house.

Walburga didn’t hesitate and rapped on the door firmly, sending birds in the tree nearby flying away.

Regulus’s heart hammered as they waited. He started picturing all of the things Mother could say to completely mortify him. Yes, Dorcas knew. But they had never discussed what she was going to tell her family. And she had never seen Regulus around his parents. The way his mother treated him. Maybe she saw him as a boy now, but after Walburga was through? Things would change, he was sure.

The door opened slowly. “Hello, can I help you?”

It was Dorcas. Thankfully, she looked decently put together. (Not that Regulus minded- he’d seen her in her pajamas enough to not care. But he knew his mother would judge.)

Walburga still looked down her nose at Dorcas, of course. And then…“Yes, is your mother home?” she asked snootily. Regulus blanched. He had told her. Told her that Dorcas was raised by her grandparents. Why was she so insensitive–? “My grandmother is here,” Dorcas answered simply, not allowing her expression to change.

Regulus tried to shoot her an apologetic glance even as he wanted to strangle his mother.

Dorcas left, only to return with the older woman from the train station. “How can I help you?” the woman asked politely.

With no introduction, Walburga started in. “I’d like to talk to you about my daughter before I leave her with you. I want to make sure your home is….appropriate for Regina.” Walburga spoke in almost a snarl, not bothering to keep the accusation out of her voice.

Daughter. Her. Regina. He fought back a gag. His hands shook. He felt goosebumps all over his body, as if his own skin was trying to reject the words. He studied Dorcas’s face, searching for disgust there, his heart pounding with fear and anticipation.

But Dorcas spoke up, confidently, her expression seemingly warm, but Regulus could detect a hint of fakeness. “We’re very excited to have Regina. We’ll make sure she’s very safe here.”

Regulus’s mouth popped open audibly, and he felt tears form in his eyes before he could stop them. Hearing his old name come from Dorcas’s mouth was worse, somehow. Why was it worse? His brain reeled and he felt his stomach roil, but then Dorcas threw him a sharp glance, tilting her head just slightly at Regulus’s mother.

His visibly pleased mother.

And it clicked.

“Yes, Dorcas has told me all about Regina,” Dorcas’s grandmother agreed brightly, also throwing Regulus a meaningful look. “She’s always welcome and safe here.”

Regulus blinked. He looked back and forth between the two adults, who seemed to now be in some sort of stare-off. He decided to go for broke and really sell it. “Cas promised to teach me how to straighten my hair,” he murmured, trying to make his voice sound high-pitched and excited, while simultaneously holding back his breakfast.

Walburga looked at him for a moment and Regulus knew he had her. As protective of her reputation as she was, Walburga would never outright ask if he was introducing himself as Regulus in school or telling his friends about his ‘problem.’ That would be admitting in the first place that he wasn’t the 'perfect daughter.'

So all she could do was…

“Alright. Lovely to meet you, then.”

And that was that.

-

Please please leave comments and kudos and love and read the WIP here!

Credit to @betweendyingstars whose beautiful fanart partially inspired a scene in this chapter, though their version of Sirius and Reggie are older.

[orangelightsabers]

just throwing out a school for good and evil (sge) rough draft idea I had where Agatha was Dovesso’s biological daughter and Sophie isn’t her twin sister but they’re still best friends and consider themselves sisters and anyways, the idea was a mix of the books and the movies and—

Agatha of Gavaldon could still faintly recall a time in which she did not yet live in Gavaldon. Indeed, long before her mother-who-was-not-yet-her-mother took the eerily quiet three year old under her wing and household after finding her roaming the edge of the village near the Endless Woods, Agatha lived in another place, a place where she was raised under the careful eyes of her two mothers, escaping the harsh words and panting of ‘witch’ that followed her in Gavaldon. Her mothers, although Agatha could no longer recall their faces, was imprinted in the young girl’s mind, herself associating one mother with a shock of red hair and the other with a wild curl of golden locks. Unlike the people of Gavaldon, including Agatha’s own adoptive mother, they did not believe Agatha to be a witch, instead indulging Agatha in the nickname of “little princess,” leading one to believe that one, or both, of Agatha’s mothers must have been queen for her to gain such a title. Agatha, on the other hand, always believed that they must have seen something she could not, for long after the curly black haired girl could no longer stand to gaze in the mirror at her reflection, their words of her beauty still followed her, haunting her with the feeling as if she was failing them as a young lady when her curls failed to straighten under her best friend’s efforts and boys avoided her in fear of her cursing them.

At the end of the day, however, Agatha could not fault her mothers for abandoning her, for it was in Gavaldon that she met Sophie, her best friend. Sophie, with her Good deeds of the day and obsession with cucumber facials, couldn’t have been farther from the opposite of Agatha and her dark clothing; yet, this is what made them such good friends for both were outcasts: Agatha for her “witchy” ways and Sophie for her strive to be good in such a way that not even the School Headmaster could deny her entry into the School for Good and Evil. Furthermore, Sophie was the only friend Agatha had ever had, besides Reaper, her cat who hated Sophie with a passion that Agatha’s human friend seemed to rival despite her attempts of covering it under high pitched squeals every time Reaper attacked the blonde with his sharp claws.

……………………………………

“There’s been a mistake. I’m not meant to be here! Agatha belongs at this school, not me!”

A look of uncharacteristic startleness came over the woman’s face, her face paler than before. “What did you say?”

.

.

.

.

“If your friend is who I think, then there has been no mistake at all.”

“Excuse me?” Sophie practically shrieked, her face uncharacteristically twisted into a scowl before she promptly smoothed it, remembering that wrinkles were not pretty. She couldn’t believe the nerve of the teacher to take one look at her and decide that she belonged here…with evil. It was obviously Agatha that belonged here, with her black drab of clothing and the muttering of ‘witch’ that followed her throughout their village ever since they were little. She was good and Agatha was evil. It was just a fact of life to Sophie, like how Thomas of Gavaldon was the most attractive boy in the village and how applying cucumber facials religiously prevented acne and warts. So naive she was that she couldn’t fanthom a world in which she was wrong.

To her surprise, Lady Lesso scowled back at her, face warping with emotions Sophie couldn’t recognize but still made her have to shove back the urge to cower and whimper out of fear. The woman must have sensed Sophie’s fear for she straightened, gazing at Sophie almost smugly as if she got pleasurable glee out of scaring her. Sophie felt sick as the reality of where she was began to sink it, as she began to comprehend that it was going to be harder than she thought to switch schools if no one believed she didn’t belong here.

Where was Sophie’s prince to save her from this nightmare?

Where was Agatha?

It would have felt remotely hopeless to most but instead, Sophie seemed to swell with glee as the thought of her friend crossed her mind. They would see, Sophie told herself, thinking of Agatha and her dark clothing surrounded in a place where she obviously didn’t belong. They would see when Agatha began to fail every class and Sophie remained in hers, failing with a smile on her face and kindness in her heart.

…………………………………..

“Do I know you?”

Agatha froze, eyes wide as she stared hestitantly into brown ones eerily similar to her own. She swallowed.

“What is your name, child?”

“Agatha….Agatha of Gavaldon.”

“Agatha,” the woman swallowed, a stricken look crossing her face as her kind smile faded into a weary one, “that’s a pretty name.”

Agatha hestitated, feeling as if something was occuring at that moment that she would not realize until much later. “Thank you,” she murmured before remembering the reason she wanted to meet the dean in the first place. She straightened. “There’s been a mistake. I don’t belong here.” She looked around at all of the pretty dresses and golden mirrors, taking in the smell of perfume that wafed through the air all around her, but most of all she recalled the way the other girls had looked at her as if…as if she was evil, just as the people of Gavaldon looked at her. Her shoulders fell and she grimaced, gesturing to her dark clothing. “My friend Sophie belongs here. She’s good…better than me.” She murmured the last part so quietly she was sure the other woman didn’t hear her.

Yet, Clarissa Dovey did hear her and she almost wept, for not only did Agatha of Gavaldon remind her of another young girl she mentored that turned into a wonderful princess after a little encouragement and self-acceptance, but she would have recognized the brown eyes that shone with insecurity anywhere…for Agatha of Gavaldon had her mother’s eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Clarissa felt herself swell with hope.

.

.

.

.

“They abandoned me,” Agatha whispered, avoiding her reflection, eyes tightly screwed closed. The dean faltered, her hands falling away from adjusting Agatha’s dress to take in the words the young woman was speaking, Agatha sounding the most earnest Clarissa had heard from her. Agatha felt the need to clarify herself, something strange to her as she was never open to anyone this much, not even Sophie. “My mothers…They…” Agatha chuckled, emptily, sounding as if all of the joy had been wiped from her. Despite her best efforts, a single tear trickled down her face as she swallowed, hard, opening her eyes to gaze at the marble floor. “I was found roaming the Endless Woods as a child, alone and very hungry. I could barely remember my name. For days after my adoptive mother found me, I begged for the people that I can no longer remember.

.

.

.

“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” The dean of Good cradled Agatha’s face, their foreheads pressed together as brown eyes stared into brown.

Agatha swallowed. “Not like you,” she whispered.

Clarissa’s face softened. “You think w—your mothers abandoned you, left you in the woods to die because you weren’t enough?”

.

.

.

“Dear child, my little Agatha, we are one in the same.”

For the first time in years, Agatha saw her reflection side by side with the dean and she almost wept, for she saw the dean’s eyes, which she always believed to be so pretty, reflected back in her own face.

…………………………………

“We thought you had died,” Clarissa spoke, still cradling Agatha protectively in her arms.

………………………………..

Once upon a time, evil fell in love with good. Of this union, a child was born, a child with the ability to warp the balance of good and evil, twisting it to her own favor.

[kallie-den]

A Commanding Weakness Ch. 4

Peggy Morgan, the Inyx's dorky science officer, starts confusing fact and fiction when other crew members mysteriously offer to cosplay with her and reenact some of the lewdest scenes from her favorite anime

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---

Peggy Morgan, the Inyx’s science officer, made sure to offer a proper salute to Captain Vasser as she finished up her duty shift on the bridge and headed into the turbolift that would take her back down to her quarters, in the bowels of the ship. As soon as the doors slid closed with their distinctive hiss, though, she slumped against the wall.

Another awful day.

It just wasn’t getting any easier. Peggy had always hoped that, somehow, once she made it to a senior enough post, she’d be able to fit in. No such luck. Instead, it felt like other members of the crew were constantly laughing at her behind her back, be it because of the way she looked, or the way she talked, or her tendency to get lost in daydreaming and fantasy when during an uneventful shift.

Yes, Peggy was a huge nerd. She understood perfectly well that she was a complete stereotype of a science officer. Peggy was pale and freckled, with long, red hair and huge, round glasses. She couldn’t handle contact lenses or laser correction, and a nervous habit meant that she often stuttered or lisped when she spoke. Thanks to that she usually kept quiet - but when she found her voice, she sometimes got carried away with her scientific explanations.

It wasn’t her fault that the finer points of subquantum physics were so fascinating! Really, other Alliance officers should try to educate themselves. Instead, when Captain Vasser cut her off, they just giggled behind their hands. And why did the captain have to be so short with her anyway? She was an officer! A young one, yes, but she still deserved respect.

Peggy sighed. Hopefully, once they were through with this mission, she could get herself transferred to a ship that suited her better. Until then, there was no use dwelling on it. All she could do was go back to her quarters after every shift and try to take her mind off it all by indulging in her favorite hobby.

Anime.

Yes, being obsessed with twenty-first-century media was often considered cringe. No, it didn’t help with her image as a complete and total dork. But Peggy didn’t care. Anime was her life. There was nothing better than curling up in her bunk with her body pillow and waifu plushes to burn through a few seasons of classic animation.

It was such a shame that Peggy didn’t have anyone to share her passion with. Unfortunately, to most people, anime was just some boring, old-fashioned, dead medium, no different from opera and ballet. Apparently, your average Alliance starship officer didn’t have much interest in classical culture. Oh, Peggy had tried to spread the good word. But just like everything else, it had mostly gotten her ignored and quietly made fun of.

Fine. Whatever. All Peggy needed to do to escape their scorn was make it back to her quarters without running into anyone unpleasant. Then she’d have the evening all to herself.

But it was never that easy. Peggy cursed her luck when she rounded a bulkhead and found herself staring at the Inyx’s chief of security, Samira Carter.

Great.

Chief Carter was one of the worst. Peggy had spent her entire education looking forward to the day she no longer had to deal with abrasive, small-minded, meat-headed jocks. But as it turned out, they had a way of following you wherever you went. Peggy and Chief Carter were never going to be friends. Chief Carter had that loud, swaggering confidence that just grated uncomfortably on Peggy’s nerves. She treated the whole ship, and everything in it like it was her own personal playground - especially the women. It was infuriating that, just because she had a few muscles, she assumed she could have any girl she wanted. It was even more infuriating that she seemed to be right.

Peggy would have disliked Carter even if she’d left the science officer completely alone. She was everything Peggy had learned to resent and avoid. But in typical fashion, she was also the ringleader of all the mockery Peggy had received. She had been the first to make cutting comments about Peggy’s love of anime, and she was always the one who laughed the loudest whenever she tripped over her words or got shut down by Captain Vasser. And since she was such a big presence wherever she went, the rest of the crew had ended up taking their cues from her.

Peggy had tried to give Chief Carter the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t like the security chief was singling her out in particular. She treated almost everyone this way. Probably, it was her version of being friendly. ‘Harmless banter’, she’d call it. It wasn’t her fault that Peggy was so bad at sticking up for herself, and so easy to make fun of. But at the end of the day, that didn’t matter. She was making Peggy’s life miserable, and Peggy couldn’t forgive her for it.

So, as they walked towards each other, Peggy just fixed her eyes on the floor and silently prayed that Chief Carter didn’t take any notice of her. She couldn’t take one more mean comment. Not today. Hopefully, she was busy. Hopefully, she had something else on her mind. Hopefully, she was-

“Hey, Morgan. How’s it going?”

Her deep, cocksure, sultry voice was like nails on a chalkboard to the science officer. She kept her head down and quickened her pace, hoping against hope that Chief Carter would just let it go.

No such luck.

“Woah! What’s the hurry?”

Peggy felt herself thrown suddenly off balance as something slammed into her shoulder and spun her around. Immediately disoriented, she braced herself to hit the floor before she realized that, instead, something was bearing down on her and keeping her pressed firmly against the nearest bulkhead.

It was Chief Carter. The security chief had slammed her against the wall.

Immediately, Peggy was flinching and panicking. Physical abuse? She hadn’t imagined even Carter would sink quite that low. It was a major escalation. What was Peggy going to do? She could take it to the captain, yes, but that was slim consolation while she was getting her face pounded in by a brute of a security chief. Peggy started bringing her hands up to fend off the blows, shaking furiously.

“Hey,” Chief Carter said, in her very lowest, smokiest, most seductive voice. “Why such a hurry, cute thing? Surely whatever you’re doing tonight can’t be better than spending time with me.”

Peggy barked an awkward, disbelieving laugh. It took her a long moment to process, with disgust, that Chief Carter didn’t want to beat her.

She wanted to screw her.

Scarcely a more appealing proposition.

“G-g-g-get off m-me!” Peggy spluttered. Chief Carter just laughed good-naturedly.

“No need to be afraid, Morgan,” she cooed. “I don’t bite… much.”

Peggy felt like she was going to hurl. This was completely ludicrous.

“L-let me go!” Peggy doubled her efforts to squirm free. “Or I’ll… I’ll…”

To her surprise, Chief Carter actually eased up on her a little - although not enough for her to escape.

“C’mon. Is the prospect of spending an evening hanging out with me really that bad?” Chief Carter’s voice gave Peggy pause. She sounded surprisingly sincere.

“S-save it,” Peggy replied wearily. “You’re just making fun of me anyway.”

“Huh?” Now Chief Carter seemed all but wounded. “No, not at all. Why would you think that?”

“B-because it’s what you always do!” Peggy exploded. “I’m used to it by now, OK? You’re not gonna fool me that easily.”

“Morgan…” Chief Carter’s eyes turned big and deep and sorrowful. She reached down to gently caress Peggy’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry that you were hurting. I never knew. Won’t you let me make it up to you?”

Peggy was almost taken in. She let out a momentary gasp and lost herself briefly in Chief Carter’s eyes, before reality once again reasserted herself. Chief Carter’s charm was formidable, yes. It wasn’t difficult to see how so many girls had been taken in by it. She’d say anything to get a girl into bed. But no matter how charming, she just wasn’t Peggy’s type. Peggy was into girls who were gentle and sweet. Girls she could share her interests with. Not brawny jocks.

“L-look!” Peggy cried as she tried to push Carter away. “I… I’m honestly not sure if you’re joking or not, but I’m really not into you, OK? So, uh… thanks, but no thanks.”

Chief Carter’s whole face fell. She pulled back and withdrew her arm. “You won’t even give me a chance, huh?”

“I-it’s just… a little hard to believe.” Peggy was taking deep breaths to calm herself. She’d never been so eager to get back to her quarters. “I mean… why would you even be interested in me?”

“Maybe I just think you’re cute.” Chief Carter shrugged. She still sounded dead serious. “Look at it this way: we’re a long way from home out here on the Inyx. It’s only natural to take a certain interest in each other. I… really want to learn more about you, Morgan.”

“Oh.” Peggy turned frosty and started turning away. “I see how it is. Y-you’re just bored and looking for another notch on your bedpost, aren’t you?”

She took a few steps away, but Chief Carter’s powerful hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“No, wait!” The huge security chief sounded so ardent and desperate, it made Peggy freeze in her tracks. “Please let me explain!”

At that moment, it dawned on Peggy that this was real. Chief Carter wasn’t playing some kind of trick on her. Nobody was waiting around the corner to burst out and laugh. Somehow, for some reason, Chief Carter genuinely wanted to woo her.

It was a strange realization. It made Peggy grow warm with an unfamiliar, satisfying emotion. It made her feel powerful. She still didn’t reciprocate Carter’s feelings, of course. But she decided to hear her out. If nothing else, maybe a proper, firm rejection would teach her a little humility.

“Fine,” Peggy said firmly, turning back and folding her arms. “But tell me what’s going on. And be quick about it. I have places to be.”

She didn’t, really. Going back to her quarters to watch anime by herself didn’t count. But it sounded good.

“OK, OK.” To Peggy’s surprise, Chief Carter’s face turned a deep red color and she looked around furtively. “I just… I think you’re really cool. Seriously. And I actually think we might have a lot more in common than you realize. Maybe. With certain, uh, interests.”

Peggy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Chief Carter glanced around again before saying, in a hushed voice: “You like anime, right?”

“H-huh?” Peggy’s heart skipped a beat. “Um, yeah?”

The security chief checked yet again to make sure nobody else was around before she blurted out: “I’m a huge MaMeStaSe fangirl!”

Peggy froze. She stopped breathing. Of all the strange things she’d heard in the past five minutes, this was by far the most unbelievable.

‘MaMeStaSe’ was the preferred fan abbreviation for ‘Magical Maidens Star Sentinels’, a magical girl anime and Peggy’s absolute favorite show of all time. It was a cult classic, and for Peggy, it had everything: incredible animation, brilliant characters, heartwarming themes, and titillating action. She’d rewatched it so many times she’d lost count, she’d plastered posters of it all over her walls, and she even had a body pillow of one of the protagonists. Meeting another fan aboard the Inyx was a dream come true.

But it was a little difficult to believe.

“You are?” Peggy didn’t bother to hide her skepticism.

“Yes!” Chief Carter had a big grin on her face, like she couldn’t contain her excitement. “I swear!”

“Prove it,” Peggy told her flatly. “Do the pose.”

She was absolutely sure that Carter wouldn’t know what she was talking about, which made it all the more surprising when, without hesitation, Chief Carter performed an adorable little pirouette, struck an iconic pose, and, in a voice sparkling with hope and love, recited:

“In the name of the stars, I’ll punish you!”

It was perfect. She was a true fan.

Peggy started bouncing up and down with glee. She couldn’t help herself. She lunged forward and threw her hands around the security chief.

“Ohmigod!” she squealed. “It’s so good, right? It’s soooo good. I mean, the opening? The transformations? Hey, what’s your favorite arc? Have you read the manga? I like it too, don’t get me wrong, but to me, the anime is just so much more-“ Peggy cut herself off and blushed. “Oh no, I’m babbling.”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” Chief Carter exclaimed. She clasped Peggy’s hands and looked every bit as overcome with joy and excitement as Peggy felt. “I can’t wait to talk about everything. But, right now, I had something a little different in mind.”

“Oh?” She had Peggy’s full attention.

“Have you ever thought about recreating one of the episodes?” Chief Carter asked her.

“You mean, like, in the holodeck?” Peggy asked. She had; it was her favorite way to use her holorec time. She loved immersing herself in the fantasy, even if it wore off all too quickly once her time was up.

“No, better,” Chief Carter replied. “In real life!”

Peggy just tilted her head, confused.

“It turns out,” Chief Carter said, “Dr. Hiraga is a fan too! I only found out a little while ago, but she and I have been working on something down in medbay. Costumes, holographic assets - the works. But we need a third person. And you… well, nobody else knows Magical Maidens Star Sentinels the way you do.”

Peggy puffed up a little in pride upon hearing that.

“So, what do you say?” Chief Carter turned bashful again. “I’m… sorry for coming on so strong earlier. It doesn’t have to be, um, a d-date or anything. But I’d really love it if you’d come.”

Peggy couldn’t help but be endeared to this cuter, nerdier version of Chief Carter. Besides, hearing that Dr. Hiraga was an anime fan too was nothing short of breathtaking. Three magical girl fans on one ship? There was no way she could decline.

“Of course I’ll come!” she replied. “We need to save the stars with the power of friendship, right?”

Chief Carter pulled Peggy into a huge bear hug, one that almost lifted her off her feet. Then she took Peggy by the end and started leading her down towards medbay.

Inside medbay, everything was dim. The main ceiling lights had been switched off, and instead the room was illuminated from strange angles by an array of holographic projectors mounted all over the walls. Peggy knew medbay had some holotech to support the emergency medical hologram, but this seemed excessive. Someone had been making some major upgrades.

That was just a stray observation, though. Peggy was far too preoccupied to dwell on it. She was busy wondering what was going to happen next. They’d hurried to medbay so quickly, she hadn’t been able to ask any questions. What did recreating a magical girl anime in real life mean? And wasn’t something missing here?

“Where’s Dr. Hiraga?” Peggy asked quietly.

“Behind there.”

Chief Carter pointed to where a holographic privacy screen had been erected at the far end of the medbay. Peggy frowned.

“She’s… hiding? Why?”

“To help set the scene.”

Peggy’s frown deepened. “What does that mean, Carter?”

Infuriatingly, Chief Carter answered her question with a question. “Season Two. Episode thirty-seven. What happens?”

“Sentinel Green goes to try and save Sentinel Blue from the clutches of the evil Doctor Tomoe,” Peggy recited. “But the doctor makes Blue betray her, and both of them end up brainwashed. It’s one of my favorite episodes!”

For a fan of Peggy’s caliber, the question was trivial.

“Right!” Chief Carter said excitedly. “Isn’t this perfect? Medbay looks just like Doctor Tomoe’s evil lab!”

“It does,” Peggy admitted.

“We can do the whole scene!” Chief Carter exclaimed, overflowing with nerdy glee. “You can be Sentinel Green, I’ll be Sentinel Blue, and our very own ship’s doctor is perfect for the remaining role.”

“Oh, like roleplay!”

When Chief Carter nodded, Peggy was satisfied that she understood what was actually going on. It was still well outside of her comfort zone, though. Peggy adored roleplay. Losing herself in a shared fantasy was rewarding and intoxicating in a way nothing else could match. It was one of her favorite ways to pass time. But she’d never done it in person, only over text. It was easy to get swept away by Chief Carter’s enthusiasm, and by heady thoughts of fangirling together with her and Dr. Hiraga afterward.

“O-OK!” Peggy squeaked nervously. “Um… we all know the scene, right? How do we get started?”

Chief Carter’s dorky grin widened. “We get into costume.”

Peggy blinked, and then turned a deep red. “Y-you have costumes?”

Oh no. She hadn’t expected this. If they were wearing costumes, then this went a step beyond simple roleplay.

It was cosplay.

"U-um,” Peggy squeaked. “Maybe I should… uh… r-rewatch the episode first! And, um, I t-think I had a duty shift to cover later. And-“

“C’mon, Morgan.” Chief Carter gave her shoulder a comradely squeeze. “Don’t be like that. There’s no need to be shy! I’m sure you know the episode like the back of your hand. And everything’s ready right now. Trust me, your costume is perfect.”

Peggy’s blush deepened. She couldn’t bring herself to back out. Not when she was finally getting the chance to be a part of something. She couldn’t face going back to her quarters alone. She had to participate. There was just one problem.

Science Officer Peggy Morgan had a huge cosplay fetish.

She couldn’t explain it. Not really. But there was something special - no, magical - about cosplay. Seeing a character come to life through costume and performance felt like nothing short of a miracle. The holodeck never had the same appeal. Holograms were just light with a little pre-scripted AI running behind them. Cosplay was real. It was transformation. When Peggy saw a cosplayer truly become the character they were cosplaying, it made her feel like anything was possible - even for a mousy nerd like her.

That was her fascination. But, admittedly, her fetish went beyond that. Peggy couldn’t explain why cosplayers turned her on so much. Maybe it was their mannerisms, so fictive and exaggerated. It was almost mesmerizing, seeing a flesh-and-blood person follow a script intended for an animated character. Maybe it was their beauty, so stylized it was almost unreal. Maybe it was what they represented: characters that she was used to seeing as drawings or dolls come to life, but still presenting themselves to be looked at and played with and enjoyed. It just turned her on like nothing else.

And, of course, plenty of cosplays were far from innocent. Erotic cosplay frequently left Peggy drooling. Sometimes, when she was alone in her quarters, she would spend hours scrolling through massive archives of pictures until her own arousal and pleasure grew to be too much. But even regular cosplay excited her to an embarrassing degree. In the past, she’d excused herself from costume parties, just in case they got her a little too worked up.

But now she had to cosplay alongside Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga.

All without giving herself away.

“Here’s yours.” Chief Carter, oblivious to Peggy’s inner turmoil, picked up a bundle of green clothes from a nearby table and handed it to her. “Try it on! Don’t worry, I pulled your uniform size from the databanks as I replicated it. It should be perfect. I’ve got mine too. Let me give you some privacy.”

Before Peggy could say anything, she headed off to a far corner of the room and activated another holographic privacy screen, hiding her and Peggy from one another. Now that she was, relatively speaking, alone, Peggy took a deep breath and looked down at the clothing in her hands.

It was immaculately designed. Replicators could make anything, of course, but making sure the stitching, fit, and design were all just right could be a labor of love, and Peggy could tell that no effort had been spared here. This was Sentinel Green’s magical outfit, right down to every last detail of the frills and ribbons. There was, at first glance, just one issue.

It was latex.

There was usually a level of interpretation when it came to deciding what materials to use for cosplay. Animation, after all, rarely made it clear precisely what was intended. But shiny, bright, smooth rubber was certainly quite the choice. Thinking about what this was going to look like on her made Peggy shiver with equal parts anxiety and anticipation.

She considered refusing, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She had to. Which meant there was nothing for Peggy to do but try on the cosplay.

Peggy removed her Alliance uniform swiftly and efficiently. She was used to that part. Putting on a magical girl cosplay outfit was something else entirely. But once she experimentally slipped one of her feet into one of the white, embroidered, thigh-high socks, something came over her. It was like she was possessed by something; a feverish enthusiasm that had her limbs moving in a hurried frenzy and putting on the cosplay like it was second nature. Before she knew it, Peggy was wearing the whole thing.

She shivered. It felt amazing.

And it was so, so skimpy.

Once the initial rush wore off, Peggy was stunned by how much air she could feel on her bare skin. Admittedly, the outfits in Magical Maidens Star Sentinels were, according to some, pretty revealing. The term ‘fanservice’ was frequently bandied around. Peggy had always ardently insisted that it was unfair, and that the designs were perfectly tasteful as long as you looked at them in the right light.

She was now reconsidering that stance.

The blouse, while tailored to fit Peggy, was clearly intended to suit the slim proportions of an anime character; as a result, it left the layer of puppy fat on Peggy’s tummy embarrassingly prominent. The same was true for her thick thighs, on two counts: they muffin-topped over the thigh-highs, and threatened to make the pleated, too-short skirt ride up every time she moved. The fact it was all so brightly colored, so shiny and green, made it all the more lurid, and the way everything was styled, with frills and ruffles and sparkling gemstones, took the ensemble to another level.

Peggy had never been more embarrassed, and she had never been more turned on.

“Morgan?” Chief Carter called out, from behind the privacy screen. “Changed?”

“Y-yeah,” Peggy answered without thinking. Then: “W-wait, no, d-don’t come-“

It was too late. Carter flicked off the privacy screen, and the two of them saw each other. For a moment Peggy thought she was going to die from embarrassment - but then that thought, just like all her other thoughts, was obliterated as she lost herself in the sight of Chief Carter in her cosplay.

Her outfit was the same as Peggy’s except in blue instead of green, and yet somehow, it looked completely different. The similarity in design simply brought out the contrast in their physiques. In Chief Carter’s case, the tight-fitting, revealing magical girl outfit seemed to be struggling to contain her proud, sculpted muscles. The result was similar to what was going on with Peggy, where her clothes were threatening to ride up all over, but the effect was totally different. It accentuated the triangular shape of her torso and all the work she put into her abs.

God, her abs. Peggy had never really deigned to notice just how appealing muscular girls could be, but the latex outfit shed Carter’s physique in such a new light, she couldn’t help but stare. It conformed so tightly to her torso, each one of her abs had its own, shiny highlight from medbay’s dim lights. The effect was nothing short of pornographic, and Peggy was enraptured. The best part was how strange it all looked on her. The tall, swaggering security chief would never normally dress in something so bright and attention-grabbing. The way it transformed her was, to Peggy, both erotic and magical.

Chief Carter was Sentinel Blue.

It made Peggy wonder how she seemed. Had she been transformed too? It was such an exciting thought, and Chief Carter’s reaction confirmed it for her immediately.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed uncharacteristically. “Morgan, I knew it! You’re perfect.”

Heat rose in Peggy’s body. She looked away. “R-really?” she asked bashfully.

“Hell yes!”

The sparkling enthusiasm in Chief Carter’s eyes left no room for doubt. Peggy was beyond euphoric. It was all she could do to keep herself from bouncing up and down. She was cosplaying as a character from her favorite show. It was a wet dream come true.

“But… um… why l-latex?” Peggy ventured. “It’s a little…”

“Oh, that was the doctor’s call,” Carter replied. “Doesn’t it look magical? The way it shines, it’s like it’s glowing!”

Peggy couldn’t disagree with that. She was utterly captivated, and her head was filling with unspeakable fantasies about all the things she suddenly wanted to do with Chief Carter. It was strange; dressed normally, she had no interest in the muscular woman. Dressed like this, she was a fantasy made flesh. She was irresistible.

“So,” Chief Carter said, striking a small pose. She was radiating joyful confidence. “Shall we get started?”

Peggy walked over to her, trembling with nervousness, trying to ignore the way her thighs rubbed together pleasurably with each step.

“S-sure,” Peggy struggled to say. She decided to try looking at the floor. That seemed safest. “So, um… w-what now?”

“Well, we’re all ready!” Chief Carter’s uncharacteristically innocent enthusiasm was an uncannily perfect match for her magical girl cosplay. Peggy tried not to think about that too much. “We all know how the story is supposed to go. So… places! You can start over by the door. And I’ll…”

Chief Carter clambered onto one of medbay’s many examination chairs, which immediately reclined to accept her. Without warning, restraints mounted within the bed snapped shut around her wrists and ankles. The sound made Peggy jump, and she scampered over to the medbay door.

Abruptly, the lights shifted. This was it. The scene was starting.

Immediately, Peggy was struck by the realization that, metaphorically speaking, all eyes were now on her. Sentinel Green was the hero of the scene. It was on her to get the ball rolling. She knew the script practically line by line, but acting it out properly was another matter. Peggy had never done anything like it before. She wasn’t even sure if she could.

But the more she thought about it, the more a strange, nervous excitement started to flood her limbs. It was the same feeling Peggy got when she was standing a little too close to the edge of a high precipice. The urge to take a leap of faith. To throw herself into the role. Her body burned with it and so Peggy let it take her, and stepped forwards.

“Blue!” she called out, her voice sounding, even to her own ears, brighter and clearer. Peggy took a few cautious steps into medbay - no, into Doctor Tomoe’s evil lab. “Sentinel Blue! Blue, I’m here to rescue you!”

"Green?” came the weak, weary reply. It was Chief Carter - no, Sentinel Blue - no, both. “Is that really you?”

Peggy rushed to her side at once. It was strange; now that she was playing a role, it was so much easier to stand taller and feel braver. She was a Star Sentinel. A hero. And she was here to save her comrade.

Looking down at Chief Carter in cosplay, though, made her feel anything but heroic. All of the shameful, secret feelings she’d experienced earlier came surging back - but they were all the stronger now that Chief Carter was like this: prone, helpless, restrained. With her arms trapped at her sides, her body was even more exposed, and the knowledge that she couldn’t resist anything being done to her was dizzyingly titillating.

It was like she was a doll. A toy to be played with. And it made Peggy itch to touch her.

Instead, she stayed on script. “Blue! I’m so glad I found you. Let’s get you out of here. Can you break out of those restraints?”

Chief Carter followed the script perfectly and began to strain against her bonds. Sentinel Blue was strong, but they were stronger. With all her muscles, Peggy wondered if Chief Carter might actually be able to bust out, but it appeared not. Just like in the episode of MaMeStaSe, she eventually gave up and slumped back into the examination chair, flushed and gleaming with sweat from her exertion.

There was, however, one major difference between the Sentinel Blue Peggy was looking at now, and the one from her beloved anime.

This Sentinel Blue was blatantly extremely turned on.

There was no mistaking it. Her cheeks were burning red from more than just strain, and there was a lurid shine to her eyes. She was panting far more than was reasonable, and with her cosplay outfit so absolutely tight around her body, Peggy could see that her nipples were forming two hard little bullets underneath the latex.

The sight was mesmerizing.

“S-Sentinel Blue?” Peggy ventured. She wasn’t sure what to do.

"I-I guess I’m not… s-strong enough,” Chief Carter panted. The confession made her squirm. It was obvious it excited her. “You’ll have to… to set me free.”

She was sticking to the script, at least as far as the dialogue was concerned. Was Peggy supposed to play along, like nothing strange was happening? That seemed absurd, and yet there was something irresistible about it. It was like she’d be living in a work of pornography.

Peggy decided to keep going. If nothing else, she couldn’t help wanting to see Chief Carter squirm even more.

“I’ll look around,” she said in an urgent stage whisper. “We just need to get you out before-“

“Before I return?”

Dr. Hiraga’s voice, coming from behind the holographic privacy screen at the far end of medbay, sent chills down Peggy’s spine. She knew Dr. Hiraga, of course. Everybody on the ship did. But she sounded different now. Her voice was colder and more sinister. She sounded like a villainess.

It was perfect for the role of Doctor Tomoe.

“Doctor Tomoe!” Peggy cried right on cue, dropping into a fighting stance. “But you’re supposed to be on the other side of the city!”

“Did you really think I would fall for that cheap distraction?” Doctor Tomoe cackled. “I sent my minions to take care of it. Your friends are tied up fighting them. Which means you’re here, alone, with me.”

She stepped out from behind the privacy screen and, even though it was true to the script, there was nothing planned or intended about the way Peggy gasped.

Dr. Hiraga was in cosplay too, of course, and her outfit was a perfect match for Doctor Tomoe’s. In MaMeStaSe, the evil scientist wore a long, white lab coat over a sleek, black bodysuit of some kind. And in keeping with the other cosplays, Dr. Hiraga had chosen to render the bodysuit in black latex, polished to a mirror sheen.

In the past, Peggy had never given Dr. Hiraga’s body a second thought. Now, it was impossible to ignore. Every single one of her indulgent, middle-aged curves was highlighted by the way the light glistened off the shining rubber. It was glorious. Peggy forgot how rude it was to stare. Not drooling was the most she could manage. Dr. Hiraga was shining like a dark star. Unlike the magical girl cosplays, hers was suggestive only in its sleekness. It wasn’t revealing or needlessly tight. It made her feel more dignified than Peggy or Chief Carter. It made her powerful.

She had become Doctor Tomoe.

The cognitive dissonance hitting Peggy was hypnotic. It was like she was looking at two people at once. The gentle, caring Dr. Hiraga, and the evil, indomitable Doctor Tomoe. It seemed just as impossible for Dr. Hiraga to be so imposing and sinister as it did for Doctor Tomoe to be here, real, in the flesh. It was a perfect cosplay. She kept instinctively searching for some missing detail, for something out of place, but there was nothing. Even her makeup, thick and sharp and dark, was perfect for the character.

Which was a huge problem, since the character in question had been the source of some of Peggy’s biggest sexual awakenings.

“Surprised?” Dr. Hiraga - no, Doctor Tomoe - no, both - cocked an eyebrow, amused. “You should be. I have you exactly where I want you, Sentinel Green.”

“How dare you!” The scripted words came effortlessly to Peggy’s lips. She couldn’t break the scene, no matter how flustered she was. “In the name of the stars, I’ll bring you to justice!”

“Oh? All on your own?” Dr. Hiraga’s smirk was so perfectly mocking and superior, that Peggy couldn’t believe it was acted. She was utterly convincing. “You’re not so strong without your magical little friends.”

Peggy squirmed at her dripping, molten contempt. A hundred scenarios flashed through her mind, each more perverse and depraved than the last. Her mind, tainted by countless hours of staring adoringly at lewd cosplays, was working overdrive. Peggy couldn’t count how many times she’d blown off steam thinking about Doctor Tomoe. But no matter what, she had to stick to the script.

“I’m not the one who’s alone!” she shot back. Even though she was insanely turned on, her voice sounded heroic and full of innocent conviction. Dr. Hiraga was a perfect Doctor Tomoe, but Peggy was managing a decent Sentinel Green. “You don’t have your minions here. And I have my friend right by my side!”

"She’s a little tied down at the moment,” Dr. Hiraga sneered viciously. “She won’t be any help to you!”

“That’s what you think!” Peggy cried. “But with the power of friendship and justice on our side, we can overcome anything!”

Now she was the one panting and struggling to keep the lust out of her voice. Nevertheless, she reached across Chief Carter to put her hands on one of the metal shackles keeping her trapped against the examination chair. In the episode, Sentinel Green summoned her magic and used it to set Sentinel Blue free. Hopefully, Dr. Hiraga and Chief Carter had set things up so that if she just tugged a little bit, the manacles would release of their own volition.

Sure enough, they did. Even though it was all fake, in that moment, Peggy felt genuinely heroic. She was channeling the emotion of the scene, and that made it easy to plant her hands squarely on her hips as she stared down the villainous Doctor Tomoe.

“There! Now it’s two against one,” Peggy declared. “Surrender now, Doctor Tomoe. Or else.”

Chief Carter rose to her feet to stand beside her, gently nursing her wrists. The two of them made a perfect matching pair as they squared off against the doctor, even if Chief Carter seemed, somehow, a touch disappointed. Thanks to the magic of the moment, her presence made Peggy feel that much stronger and braver. Even though they were both wearing porny latex. Even though she knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Is that so?” Dr. Hiraga purred. “You’re right about one thing, Sentinel Green. It is two against one - just not the way you think.”

Lazily, she raised a hand and snapped her fingers.

Peggy looked round sharply as she sensed Chief Carter abruptly start to sway. Immediately, she froze. She had been expecting, maybe, a convincing performance of being stunned or entranced. Despite the strange reaction she’d had to the restraints, Chief Carter was proving to be a surprisingly skilled performer. What Peggy saw now, though, went far beyond acting.

Chief Carter had spirals in her eyes.

It was impossible. At first Peggy thought it had to be a trick of light, but no. The more she stared, the more it became clear that this was completely and totally real. Chief Carter’s eyes had become spinning, spiraling orbs, each one glowing from within with an unfathomable light. Peggy couldn’t believe how accurate to the anime it was. The way Chief Carter had swayed and sagged as if totally drained of mind and thought was just as perfect.

“W-what have you done to her?” Peggy breathed. It was Sentinel Green’s line, but the question was genuine.

“No one can resist my treatment!” Dr. Hiraga cackled. “Not even the Star Sentinels. Sentinel Blue is mine now. She’s one of my minions. And soon, you will be too.”

“N-no,” Peggy gasped. She was completely caught up in the emotion of the scene. She remembered the sense of dawning shock and horror she’d felt so many times, watching this moment unfold. Now, she was living it.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Hiraga crowed. “You’ll soon see! Minion, seize her!”

Peggy shivered and squirmed as she felt Chief Carter’s powerful hands seize her by the shoulders.

“Blue!” Peggy let her voice become a high-pitched, girly shriek. “What are you doing?”

“She can’t hear you now,” Dr. Hiraga warned. “Minion, strap her to the chair!”

Peggy hadn’t thought this far ahead, and so she wasn’t prepared for the way Chief Carter lifted her bodily off the ground without the slightest hint of real effort. Evidently, when she’d pushed the science officer against the wall earlier, she’d been using a bare fraction of her true strength. When Peggy felt her feet leave the floor, the way she writhed in a frantic bid to squirm free wasn’t acted. It was very, very real.

Fortunately for her, Chief Carter wasted no time in swinging her around and placing her down firmly on the exam chair. An instant later, she was forcing Peggy’s hands into the same manacles she herself had just been freed from. Peggy was too stunned to say anything, and what had stunned her the most was Chief Carter’s complete lack of gentleness. The chief had been so friendly and enthusiastic, but now she was throwing Peggy around like she was nothing more than a sack of meat.

Almost like she was really brainwashed.

It was a silly thought, but Peggy couldn’t seem to shake it. There was just no way Chief Carter was actually this good of an actor. Everything about the way she moved and carried herself was unnatural and rigid. It was too perfect. And then there were her eyes. Peggy had seen plenty of cheap cosplay tricks. Enough to know that they weren’t just a trick. Most alarmingly of all, when she stared into Chief Carter’s eyes for just a little too long, she could feel herself starting to slip under the spirals’ hypnotic influence.

Something strange was happening.

So shouldn’t she say something? Do something? Call the scene to a halt? That would have been the responsible thing to do. But Peggy couldn’t make herself do it. There was a magic to the moment. To the way they were all three of them caught up in the flow of the scene, living out their characters’ actions, feeling all their sensations and feelings.

It was everything Peggy could have ever asked for. She couldn’t give it up.

“Not so strong now, are you?” Dr. Hiraga mocked. She moved to stand over Peggy, and from where the science officer was sitting she seemed more imposing than ever. “You Star Sentinels are so easy to fool.”

Peggy’s mouth was dry, but she forced herself to stick to the script.

“S-Sentinel Blue!” she cried out in a decidedly uneven voice. “You have to listen to me! You have to fight! You can beat this! Resist!”

Chief Carter opened her mouth and for a moment, despite the source material, Peggy found herself hoping she would find the strength to fight off the mind control.

Instead, all she said was: “I obey Doctor Tomoe,” in a droning, monotone voice that was so far away from Chief Carter’s usual, brash tones it made Peggy whimper.

“It’s no use,” Dr. Hiraga sneered. “She’s completely under my control. And soon, you’ll be just like her.”

“N-never!” Peggy tried to sound defiant, just like Sentinel Green. Instead, she sounded like she was moaning. It was like she was a porn parody of the real thing - a thought that drove her wild with need.

“Ridiculous!” Dr. Hiraga threw back her head and laughed. “You’re powerless, Sentinel Green! Look, you can’t even brush my hand away.”

Peggy went very, very still as Dr. Hiraga reached down and rested a latex-gloved hand on her thigh, up under the hem of her skirt.

This was it. It was an infamous moment in the anime, depicted in a thousand less-than-savory fanworks - especially ones by lesbian fans. Peggy had always steadfastly maintained that it was a simple illustration of Doctor Tomoe’s lack of respect for others, but it was hard to deny that there was something titillating about it.

Peggy, turned on as she was, had mostly been hoping she wouldn’t do something embarrassing like squirm or moan. She had been sure Dr. Hiraga would barely even touch her. It was just roleplay, right?

Instead, Dr. Hiraga started openly groping her.

At first, when Peggy first felt the doctor’s fingers pressing roughly and insistently into the flesh of her pale, exposed, sensitive thighs, she couldn’t believe what was happening. Surely it was just a mistake. Surely Dr. Hiraga was just about to break character and apologize. But no - she just kept going, and with each passing moment, her grin widened and her fingers reached further up Peggy’s hips.

The look in the doctor’s eyes was the most shocking part of it. They were shining with glee and malice, like she was drunk on the pleasure of violating Peggy’s body. It was completely authentic and sincere, and completely unlike Dr. Hiraga.

But perfect for Doctor Tomoe.

Before Peggy could dwell on that, the sensations filling her body overtook her shock. Her back arched, and she was forced to gasp and pant for each breath. Her cheeks turned the deepest red as she was drowned in overwhelming embarrassment and shame over how she was reacting. But she couldn’t help it. Being touched like this felt amazing, even though she wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was because she’d watched this scene in the anime hundreds of times, fascinated by how it looked, imagining how it might feel, wondering what it would be like to look up helplessly at Doctor Tomoe. And now she was living it. She was living her fantasy, and her whole body was electric with the thrill.

“You see?” Dr. Hiraga mocked. “Helpless.”

Her hand reached further, pushing up her tiny latex skirt and beginning to touch at the hem of her panties. Peggy couldn’t help but moan, but even as she did she was wracked with confusion. Had Doctor Tomoe gone quite this far in the anime? Wasn’t this a little too much? She couldn’t exactly remember. It was getting so hard to think clearly.

“G-g-get off me!” Peggy whined. She sounded unconvincing - but then again, so had Sentinel Green in a few moments. “Y-you’ll pay for this!”

“We’ll see about that,” Dr. Hiraga purred. She brought her other hand to Peggy’s chest and started groping her there, too. There was something magical about the sensation of latex on latex. “Soon enough, you’ll accept me eagerly. You’ll profess your undying devotion and obedience. You’ll beg for me.”

“N-n-never!” Peggy moaned as Dr. Hiraga squeezed her tits and stroked the lips of her cunt.

They were off-script now, she was sure of it. Doctor Tomoe had never touched Sentinel Green like this. So… she should put a stop to this, right? That thought nagged at her again. Wouldn’t that be the right thing to do? Young though Peggy was, she was still an officer. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen on a military vessel. But in the moment, she was struggling to think about that.

She was too busy thinking about how wet she was. Too busy struggling to figure out if she wanted Dr. Hiraga to notice or not.

The fantasy was too powerful. She couldn’t sacrifice it. She wanted - she needed - to immerse herself deeper, no matter how twisted it was getting. Where was she ever going to find this feeling again?

All she needed to do was stop thinking and lose herself to the wet dream. She was being groped by Doctor Tomoe. By the hottest villainess in all of fiction. It was amazing.

It was so amazing, she whined in disappointment when Dr. Hiraga finally pulled away. The doctor noticed, and the look of scorn that flashed through her eyes made Peggy’s cunt clench.

“I can’t wait to brainwash you to our cause,” Doctor Tomoe declared. “But the pleasure won’t be all mine. My dark mistress wishes to see you fall.”

Peggy’s eyes flew wide. She’d almost forgotten. The big twist of this arc of Magical Maidens Star Sentinels was that Doctor Tomoe was, herself, brainwashed - by the true villain, Queen Betalia. What did that mean? What was going to happen? When Queen Betalia showed up, she was more of a looming, shadowy presence than a real character. A hologram, perhaps?

“Queen Betalia!” Dr. Hiraga cried out theatrically. “We beseech you! Appear before us!”

There was a distinctive hum as holographic projectors concealed around medbay flickered into life. Peggy wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to see, but the very last thing she’d anticipated was an ominous, familiar figure with dyed hair, wild eyes, and dozens of visible tattoos and piercings.

It was Wasp. The vandal-hacker the Inyx was hunting.

As science officer, Peggy wasn’t as motivated as some of the other crew members by the thought of catching her. She was in it for the experience, and to study any anomalies they came across. But she’d still been in all the briefings. She knew exactly who this woman was, even if she couldn’t begin to fathom what exactly her presence here meant.

Wasp, unlike the rest of them, wasn’t wearing any kind of cosplay. She was dressed in what Peggy understood to be her typical attire: leggings, a big, punk battle jacket, and a sports bra. But if that wasn’t enough to set her apart from the role-players, the way she leered at Peggy and cackled certainly was.

"You know, you’re really a girl after my own heart,” Wasp said to Peggy in an absurdly conversational voice. “I mean, I’m a hacker, right? Deep down I’m a huge nerd. Not that I’ve ever taken it as far as you. That’s one hell of a hentai collection buried in your personal computer files.”

Peggy craned her head to look at Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga. Chillingly, neither one of them had reacted to Wasp’s holographic presence in any way. Both of them were just standing there like statues. Like dolls who had been momentarily set aside.

This was really bad.

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” Wasp told her. “In fact…”

She snapped her fingers in Dr. Hiraga’s face. An instant later, Dr. Hiraga’s eyes turned into glowing, spinning spirals. The exact same spirals that Peggy could see in Chief Carter’s.

This was really, really bad.

Peggy’s mind, still sluggish from arousal and fantasy, was struggling to parse what this meant. Were they still roleplaying? It seemed unlikely. If Wasp was meant to be Queen Betalia, she wasn’t in character, or even in cosplay. Why would it be her? And if she was just a hologram, why was she veering off script and breaking the fourth wall?

But what was the alternative? That Wasp, a hacker, had infiltrated the Inyx’s systems and somehow brainwashed senior members of the crew? That was even more difficult to face up to.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Wasp added when she noticed Peggy’s growing distress. “Just think of me as part of your little roleplay. Just an unexpected little twist. That’s how this is supposed to go, right? The big bad shows up, trances the doc, and then the magical girl gets brainwashed. Trust me, I’m not going to ruin your fun on that count. That’s the very last thing I’d want.”

Peggy just kept glancing nervously between Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga for clarification. She wasn’t sure what to believe. She tugged against her restraints again, hoping against hope that they might come loose.

“L-let me go,” Peggy protested weakly. “You’ll pay for this!”

They were just the words that popped into her head. They felt right. But they were also Sentinel Green’s words.

Wasp seemed to pick up on that. “That’s right,” she urged. “Just lie back, magical girl. Enjoy the ride. Hell, enjoy the view.”

“B-but…” Peggy spluttered uncertainly, once again half-consciously echoing her character, “But… but…”

“Just look at them.” Wasp gestured towards Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga, drawing Peggys’ eye. “Aren’t they perfect? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

Once Peggy looked, she couldn’t look away. There was something spellbinding about seeing her fellow officers like this. The cosplay, of course, sent forbidden thrills of pleasure running down Peggy’s spine, but so did the way they were just standing there, devoid of emotion or personality. They looked so empty. They were like toys, waiting to be played with. Like figurines, waiting to be posed.

“Or… maybe you’d prefer it like this.”

Wasp made a show of snapping her fingers again. As she did, Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga shuddered back to life, although their eyes didn’t return to normal. Instead, their spirals shifted color to a deep, pink tint. They didn’t react to Peggy or Wasp either. Without warning, the two women stared intently at each other and then rushed into one another’s arms.

“Oh, Sentinel Blue!” Dr. Hiraga cried, in a voice uncharacteristically thick with unrestrained emotion. “I can’t pretend anymore! It was always you.”

“I know!” Sentinel Blue wailed. “The truth is, I never cared about Sentinel Yellow. I never cared about justice or vanquishing evil. I don’t think I ever cared about anything but you. I love you!”

The two of them started mashing their faces together in a deep, clumsy, passionate kiss. The little scene playing out between them was so strange and melodramatic it was almost comical, but Peggy wasn’t laughing. She was enthralled. She recognized this - their words, their kissing.

It was from a work of fanfiction. A work of fanfiction she’d written, years ago.

As the two brainwashed officers kept kissing and grabbing at each other in their overenthusiastic display of affection, Peggy couldn’t dream of looking away. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel guilty about staring. After all, this was yet another of her fantasies come to life. They were literally following her script. Wasn’t she meant to look? Weren’t these two supposed to be looked at?

That’s what cosplay was all about.

The sheer, blatant, fetishistic nature of their latex outfits only accentuated that further. Ogling them for Peggy’s enjoyment just seemed right. They were dolls. Dolls were meant to be played with. That was obvious.

Her anguish over her situation was starting to abate, and her cunt was starting to drip down onto the examination chair beneath her.

“Or,” Wasp added, “it could be like this.”

The hacker snapped her fingers yet again, and Dr. Hiraga and Chief Carter’s eyes changed color once more. Without any hesitation, they broke off from kissing. All of the overflowing, ardent longing they had been expressing drained away into nothing. Moving in eerie synchronization, they knelt next to the examination chair Peggy was restrained in, one on each side of her.

“Sentinel Green,” Chief Carter whispered, in a low, breathy, seductive voice that made Peggy’s whole body tingle. “We’re all yours. We’re here to service you.”

Peggy whimpered as raw need washed over her.

“We’ll do anything,” came Dr. Hiraga’s voice from her other side. Hearing Doctor Tomoe talk like this was driving Peggy crazy. She sounded like an actress from a cheap porno. “We just want to make you feel good.”

As one, they lowered their mouths to her body and started kissing, licking, sucking across her bare skin, all along her legs and arms. Peggy couldn’t keep herself from squirming wildly, but with the restraints keeping her limbs trapped, there was no escape. She couldn’t believe how sensitive her body had become.

It was the cosplay and the roleplay. Layers upon layers of fantasy and fiction, each one heightening the fetishistic appeal even more. The way Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga were behaving now was unmistakably pornographic, and that was the hottest thing of all for Peggy. She was watching them debase her favorite characters, all for her titillation and her pleasure.

“Do you know the best part?” Wasp commented, grinning wickedly. “They’re not acting. Not pretending. Oh no. I made them believe. To them, you’re really Sentinel Green.”

Peggy flushed and shivered. God, that was so hot.

“And in a way, they’re not wrong,” Wasp mused. “Just look at yourself. You’re just like them. You fit in perfectly. The costumes really are perfect. It suits you.”

Peggy wasn’t sure why being complimented by a villain and a criminal made her body throb with fresh pleasure - but it did. This was all she wanted. To be Sentinel Green. To submerge into the character. To look good and hot in her cosplay. Nothing could be more arousing.

“You know,” Wasp added leadingly, “if anyone walked in here right now, they wouldn’t be able to see the difference between you and them. I’m not sure I can.”

That comment lit a fire in Peggy’s mind. No difference. It made sense, when she looked down at herself. She was dressed just as provocatively. She was acting just as pornographically.

Just like them, she was a doll.

Something to be posed. Something to be played with.

As Peggy continued to moan and squirm, Wasp bent down and put her lips to Peggy’s ear.

“And,” she whispered, “in just a moment, I’m going to make you exactly like them. I’m going to make you mine.”

Peggy froze. She’d been getting lost in the fantasy. But as much as she wanted to be Sentinel Green, she was Peggy Morgan too. She was the Inyx’s science officer. She had a responsibility to the crew.

And yet…

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wasp added, straightening. “You don’t have any choice about it. I’m sure you’re already plenty wound up. There’s no way you can resist. I’m just saying, it’s up to you how you want to feel about it.”

“W… what…?” Peggy managed, desperately confused.

“I’m just saying.” Wasp shrugged. “Who needs boring old reality, when you can live a fantasy like this. Am I right?”

Peggy’s back suddenly arched as Dr. Hiraga planted a kiss dangerously close to her needy, throbbing cunt. Clear thought was a distant memory. What Wasp was suggesting should have horrified her - but it didn’t. Instead, one single, powerful observation was at the forefront of her mind.

In all the time she’d spent on the Inyx, this was the best she’d ever felt.

Something inside the nerdy science officer snapped. She made her voice.

“Y-you can’t!” she cried out desperately. “I’ll never betray my comrades! You c-can’t make me!”

It should have been a cry of defiance, but the words weren’t hers.

They were Sentinel Green’s.

“Atta girl.” Wasp laughed. “I won’t sugarcoat it, though. You’re totally gonna betray everyone. I’m gonna use your smarts to perfect this little implant-brainwashing procedure the doc and I have been working on. No more breaking down resistance. One little zap is all it’ll take. Soon enough, everyone on this fucking ship is gonna be under my spell.”

Peggy just moaned. It felt so right. Sentinel Green, brainwashed to betray her allies. That was how the story was supposed to go.

“But you’ll have fun,” Wasp told her. “I can promise you that. I can have endless fun with you. And with the chief, and the doctor. And, who knows? Maybe once I’ve got the whole ship, we can put the rest of the Star Sentinels together.”

For just one single word, Peggy let herself break from the script and say something Sentinel Green never would have said.

“P-please!”

Wasp laughed again, and snapped her fingers. Chief Carter and Dr. Hiraga rose to their feet and backed away. Wasp drew herself up theatrically.

“Y’know, I’m glad you asked so nicely. I may have gone a little overboard when I was planning this out. It took a little time to get the hardlight holograms to look and work just right. But I don’t regret the effort. I figure you’ll appreciate the fanservice.”

She extended a hand down towards Peggy, and there was a loud hum as the medbay’s holographic projectors kicked into overdrive. An instant later, two tendrils made of something shiny and black erupted from Wasp’s hand. They were fake, of course - they had to be - but they were as real as Wasp, and she’d already proven how dangerous she could be.

And more importantly, within the fantasy Peggy had surrendered to, they were all-powerful. Shadowy conduits of Queen Betalia’s will.

The tendrils looked like they were made of the same kind of latex as the cosplays, shiny and alluring, but they moved like living creatures, snaking towards Peggy before pouncing on her, one on each side of her head, and burrowing deep into her ears.

Peggy shuddered for a moment as she felt something cold and malevolent touch something deep inside her, implanting something there, behind her eyes.

And then, as the holo-stimulant implant came to life, her eyes were drowned in glowing spirals, and she thought about nothing at all.

As she peeked through a tiny crack in the door to medbay and beheld the debauchery unfolding within, Crewman Lori Delaney tried her hardest to keep perfectly still and quiet. She’d come down here after, as usual, feigning sickness to get off her duty shift. Dr. Hiraga was a soft touch; it was usually easy to convince her to provide a doctor’s note and let Delaney rest for a few hours instead of working. Other officers would usually catch on and chew her out, though, so she’d developed the habit of opening the door a crack so she could peek through and make sure nobody annoying was around.

Starship doors weren’t supposed to open like that. Especially not when they were locked. But with a little hotwiring, anything was possible.

Today, she’d found far more than she’d been expecting. Something truly weird was happening in medbay - and clearly, it involved Wasp. Delaney didn’t care about the Inyx’s duty to catch her even a little bit. In fact, she was tired of their uptight bitch of a captain’s constant lectures about it. But that didn’t mean she had any sympathy for a preening, attention-grabbing asshole like Wasp. And given that she clearly already had several members of the crew under her control, there was really only one thing Lori Delaney could do.

She rose silently to her feet and ran off to find Captain Vasser.

---

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[scienceknewmynightmares]

Name: Raymond Winters Age: 27 Pronouns: he/him  Faceclaim: Jacob Elordi Gender Identity & Sexual Orientation: cisman/bisexual Relationship Status: single (closed) Job: Touring Musician  Resident, New Resident, Tourist, or Student: Resident Residence: Town Three Positive Traits: passionate, flirtatious, ambitious Three Negative Traits: addictive, self-indulgent, possessive

bullet points on raymond's background

Raymond is the youngest winters when it comes to his siblings, he’s not the youngest in his family since his older brother chris made him an uncle by the age of 4. This made it to where he had more of a sibling relationship with Josie rather than an uncle/niece because he was closer in age to her than his own brother. That didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother or other siblings though, the age differences just made it difficult to form a close bond.

He always had a love for music, it didn’t matter how old he was you could always find him with headphones in, stereo on, instrument in hand etc. He’d actually self taught himself drums by practicing on pots and pans until his parents finally put him into lessons at a guitar center, it was mostly so he’d stop hitting the good utensils. That made it to where he got to explore more instruments and since he felt like guitar was harder for him to learn he asked to switch his lessons to that and ended up enjoying it more. 

Eventually Raymond saved up any allowance he had from parents and just any odd jobs he’d done for neighbors to buy his very own guitar just for himself. It wasn’t until his late teens that he made a band with his friends, started with covers and took off after their first single. Most called them a one hit wonder band but they were able to tour by their early 20’s and brought in both the money and fans.

The problem with touring was he was surrounded by bad influences, being so young and so new to the music industry he listened to practically any advice adult musicians would give him and would take anything he was given. This meant he’d been introduced to drugs for the first time, doing them to try and seem ‘cool’ in front of his idols but it ultimately led to an addiction of sorts.

It didn’t seem like things were a lost cause though because he met a roadie named Cole and fell in love. Was it a good relationship? Not really. She also had her addictions and the relationship became essentially a toxic one, leading to a nasty breakup with a lot of things unsaid. Now he’s back in Greenview where family is but mostly because he’s simply off tour for the time being.

[impzone]

new year's resolution

if you like when i ramble crazystyle press readmore for some reflection

V

so, this year was wild! super wild! both artistically and in my personal life.

i sorted out some shit that was bugging me for YEARS, found myself in ways i didn't know was possible and can actually cope with my life and make peace with myself because i actually know what's wrong now.

i made new friends at college and deepened connections online that i would give the world to. i surrounded myself with people that love me and i can openly share myself with. also, there's actually a ME now!

they've all helped me a lot, and they've brought the color back into my life, that i'm hoping to transfer back to my art.

so, onto my art!

i feel like it's changed a lot, which you may or may not disagree with. art isn't the only thing that defines who i am anymore, so i've had to examine why i want to make art in the first place outside of dependency. the way i bond with people through art has changed, too. the stories i want to tell changed a lot, then changed again. everything is different and i don't think i've settled my artistic footing back down.

overall, i think i'm happier with it. i've been taking the time to practice, and a lot of my fears regarding what i can and can't do have gone away. for example, i finally did studies of people irl!! i did the whole drawing boxes a million times thing! i feel like my cartoony art has more depth than it ever has, while simultaneously not having nearly enough (though, really, i think that's more insecurity than anything objective). i'm a lot more courageous overall, and i'm happy i found a way to study that doesn't feel like a chore or living hell.

i think going on stimulants has also massively benefited my art and myself. that habit of drawing boxes everyday to train my perspective definitely wouldn't have happened without them. so, naturally, now that i can keep a habit going, has it been easier to work consistently on a single project?

NO! absolutely not! that hasn't happened!!!!

even if i try to space things out, to break down big tasks, make everything less overwhelming, etc. i just can't do it over a long period of time. after a while it just becomes a "why bother?" it's not on a deadline, i'm not gonna make any money off it, and while yes i like the story, it's hard to find the motivation to share it with people when no one else has shown interest in it, as i keep it under tight wraps. honestly, keeping the whole thing i was working on mostly secret is likely what slowly killed it. i can only keep the fire of my own interest burning for so long.

it makes me sad, honestly. i had such a bright passion for this, and then it burned out! and with that comes that barrage of feeling i think every artist is familiar with: guilt, frustration, disappointment, etc. generally feeling like a piece of shit for not having "discipline," having all those pieces of advice floating around your head and feeling like a failure for not following any of them; knowing the techniques and SMART goals and setting small milestones and it all just melting away.

i don't know, i'm tired of that life. i'm tired of it being a cycle of feeling bright and good and then a relapse into misery because of shame and guilt. i'm noticing myself falling back into those old patterns, and i was able to find a way out of them (truly, truly out) and i'm convinced i can find it again.

i noticed the best way that i managed to shut down shame was by indulging. shame multiplied in me via self-denial. that self-denial breeds jealously when put next to other people who let themselves have what they wanted in life. when i felt ashamed, starting biting my tongue again, my hair started to fall out. i felt bitter toward other people, withdrew socially, withdrew artistically, my self-confidence dropped, my appearance tortured me... i'm tired of that! i had a taste of feeling free and i'm NOT going back into the pit i crawled out of! that sucked years out of my life already!

shame just makes you scared, just makes you want to not try, makes you want to not exist. i think it correlates with self-worth overall, too. it can motivate you to do things, but often time those things aren't productive. i started finding myself in art and now shame threatens to tear that out of me again, by making every decision i make be driven by shoulds and shouldn'ts.

i realize i'm rambling but i don't really have a conclusion. i don't know if i'm gonna finish that secret project i've been hyping up, i don't know if i'll give up on it out of insecurity, i don't know if i'll shove it to the side because something else gripped my interest. maybe once i starve my shame sufficiently, i won't be afraid and it'll remove the barrier to keep working on the things i love. maybe i'll finally develop this oh so elusive "discipline."

i'm just hoping i can keep making art once i finally get a job! and if i can finish a big "thing" again and actually put it out into the world, then all my goals for the year will be done.

i guess if i had a lesson here it would be to starve your shame. oh, also read "unmasking autism" by devon price. i can guarantee at least a good chunk of you would benefit from unmasking and that book was definitely what made it click for me. i'm considering getting a copy to keep on my shelf for reference in times like this lol.

for your troubles of reading all the way down this post, here's some pages from my sketchbook that never saw the light of day. i wonder if you can guess what order these were drawn in?