#maybe i have seen too many parents like that irl

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

have said it before and i'll say it again your child doesn't need to go through a life-threatening illness for you to go easy on them. yeah what her ex said to her back then was hurtful but taking care of someone for so long putting your own life on hold does take its toll eventually esp if you are not the main love interest. she did start working again so soon she did take up more work than others and things like that are all her parents' fault. all those expectations only from her because their other kid was sick long ago just made it even worse for her. the fact that she knew they go easy on her brother because he used to have a hole in his heart but still couldn't tell them that's how heavy the weight of their hopes and their dreams was for her

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Contains Spoilers: Toxic Husbands Trying Their Best (Poorly), Pregnancy cravings but make it a battle, Unhinged Humor & Serious Angst, Discussions of past trauma (non-explicit but emotional), Over-the-top jealousy, Dumbass husbands being dumbass husbands, Swearing & chaotic humour, Emotional whiplash, Heavy Angst Sprinkled with Crack Humor, Poly Relationship Drama with Terrorist Husbands, Unreliable Narrators and Moral Grey Zones.

A/N: To, Farhan, My IRL Haibara, who lived life to the fullest although chaotically, and I hope this chapter brings at least a little bit of that energy to you. Welcome to another chapter of pure chaos! Don’t forget to hydrate while reading about everyone’s emotional dehydration. Also, snacks are important. That’s all I’ll say for now—enjoy the mess, and don’t forget to drop a comment if this makes you want to lasso someone IRL.

Chapter 11 (alt ending 2.2) - Snakes & Mirrors (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 12 (alt ending 2.3) - Not Heroes

Haibara turned, throwing an arm over Megumi’s shoulder like they were at a frat party instead of a standoff. “Look, man. The only person I ever knew from your Jujutsu world was his mom. Whatever happened before? Don’t remember, don’t care. I’m good where I am. I was fucking MI6, bro. Do you know how cool that is? And now I’m semi-retired and work with my ‘only’ best friends. Life couldn’t be better. So maybe stop barking up the wrong tree and go, I don’t know, ‘synergize deliverables’ or whatever it is you corporate sellouts do.”

Megumi smirked at the men.

The courtyard, still buzzing with curious employees pretending not to eavesdrop, was momentarily stunned into pin-drop silence.

Nanami’s face fell.

Gojo, sensing Nanami’s sinking, saw red and stepped in. “How can you say that? Do you even know what happened after we thought you died?”

His voice lowered just enough for the men to hear. “After your death, my best friend—the guy you looked up to—sank deeper into his depression. And turned into a mass murderer, even removing his own parents. Nanami lost all hope after you because you were the only one of us he had actively considered his best friend at the time. He disappeared for years to work a mundane corporate job. None of us were ever the same. Not me. Not Shoko. No one. Then my best friend decided that genocide was his life's ambition. I had to stop him six months ago; put an end to it!” His voice cracked at the edges, exposing the weight he carried while carefully avoiding articulating ‘killed’ aloud. “That led us here where I have to go through you two—who, by the way, I have never seen be active in her life.”

Megumi’s teeth clenched audibly. “How is any of that his fault when he doesn’t even remember?”

“Yeah, what he said,” Haibara quipped, completely unbothered, like they were debating sports scores instead of a massacre.

Gojo’s hand twitched, but Nanami placed a steady grip on his shoulder. “Satoru, stop,” he said, his voice firm. “It’s not his fault.”

Haibara sighed like this was a lecture he’d heard one too many times. “Look, from what his mom—Toji’s wife, whom you deleted, by the way—told me, sorcerers die thankless deaths. The Jujutsu society? Already broken. What happened would’ve happened whether I was there or not. And honestly? I wasn’t exactly eager to die with my—back then, weak-ass—technique at sixteen.”

The crowd of employees, still loitering and pretending to check their phones, exchanged wide-eyed glances. The whispered commentary started.

“Wait, sorcerers? Is this, like, a D&D thing?”

“More like an anime plotline written on acid.”

“Also, Toji? Wasn’t he the dude from that Netflix documentary about buff street food chefs?”

“What does he mean by deleted?”

Before Gojo could retort, the conference room door swung open.

“Hai!” your voice rang out, snapping heads to you. “What’s taking so long? I’m hungry! If you don’t bring the food right now, I’ll eat you! And everyone else, please take your breaks in the cafeteria!”

All your employees scrambled away like they were in a fire drill. One brave soul muttered, “Damn! Mom’s big mad!” as he passed by Gojo, who shot him a glare that could freeze lava. The guy quickly backtracked, stammering, “We only call her ‘Mom’ behind her back because, you know, ‘she protek and attck’ not because of the pregnancy or to make fun of her!” Even made a poor attempt at a joke. “We didn’t even know she was pregananant before today.”

But it was too late; he bolted when Nanami joined in on the glaring, and the two of them looked like they were ready to form a task force against insubordination.

Haibara’s grin turned smug as he turned away from the men. “Sorry, boys. We’ll debate this another day. By ‘another day,’ I mean never—because I don’t care. Your girl’s calling me.” He winked, specifically at Nanami, like he had a personal vendetta. But it was just that, his eyes genuinely reflected, that he didn’t remember or cared to know anything.

“Don’t,” Gojo stopped Nanami before he could lunge at Haibara and get them arrested again; you’d be pissed.

Haibara whistled heartily as he walked away, posture oozing mockery.

Megumi stayed behind, his glare boring into the two men.

Nanami sighed, reaching into his pocket. “We’ll leave. But you need to see this.”

He showed Megumi your latest medical report on his phone—undernutrition flagged in bold red.

Megumi’s frown deepened as he read it without taking his hands out of his pocket.

“She needs to eat homemade food,” Nanami pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Her pregnancy isn’t uncomplicated. If she doesn’t start taking care of herself—if we don’t—she could die with them.”

The words landed like a bomb.

Megumi’s jaw was tight, his shoulders tense. “Go.”

//

Haibara returned to your office with an extra bag of food, setting it down on your desk. “Healthy and edible. Barely.”

Megumi followed shortly after, ensuring the men were escorted off the premises.

You reached for the bag, but Megumi snatched it away, replacing it with the one Nanami had brought, without telling you where it came from.

You blinked at him, confused. “What are you—”

“Eat,” he said simply, taking a deliberate bite of Nanami’s food before handing it back to you.

Your confusion deepened, but you didn’t press further. Instead, you began eating, your focus shifting back to the reports on your screen.

Haibara raised an eyebrow at Megumi, who responded with a slight nod. A silent agreement passed between them: We’ll talk later.

As you worked, your CHRO and CFO glanced up from their own meals.

“What happened out there?” Your CHRO asked, her curiosity barely concealed.

“Nothing worth remembering,” Haibara replied with a grin, leaning back in his chair as if he hadn’t just navigated a minefield.

The three of you ate in companionable silence, the hum of the office returning to its standard rhythm. Yet the tension in the air lingered like a quiet storm waiting to break.

---

Sometime later, Megumi walked to the break room under the pretence of “taking a work conference.” He sat down at the corner table, resting his elbows on the surface. The bold red text on the report Nanami had shown him burned into his memory: "Undernutrition: High-Risk Pregnancy."

Haibara was already leaning against the counter, his typical flippant demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. His arms were crossed, and his brows were knitted tightly together as he listened to Megumi.

“This is bad,” Megumi muttered after relaying the information. His fingers tapped the edge of the table rhythmically, a rare sign of his frustration. “She’s barely eating. She takes four bites and then gets distracted by work again. Why didn’t anyone notice this sooner?”

Haibara snorted softly, though there was no humour in it. “She’s good at hiding things. Always has been.”

Megumi’s glare flicked up to meet Haibara’s gaze. “Hiding it doesn’t mean it’s okay. You didn’t see the report. If she keeps this up…”

“I understand,” Haibara cut in, his tone sharper than normal. “You think I don’t know? I’ve been trying to get her to slow down and take care of herself, but you know how she is.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “Stubborn.”

“Relentless,” Haibara corrected. “It’s like she thinks if she stops moving, everything will fall apart.”

“It will,” Megumi shot back. “If she doesn’t start taking care of herself, she’s going to fall apart. And then what? What will we do? What will I tell Mom?”

Haibara sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, we’re on the same side here. I’ve been keeping an eye on her, trying to make sure she’s eating something—anything. But she’s slippery. You’ve seen her dodge Gojo and Nanami’s overbearing crap like it’s a sport.”

Megumi’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s not enough.”

Haibara tilted his head, studying Megumi. “So what do you want to do about it? Force-feed her? Chain her to a chair in the cafeteria?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Megumi said coldly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Haibara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay, easy there, villain arc. We’re trying to help her, not make her hate us. You’re already on thin ice with all the crap you said to her at the airport. I swear, if I had been there, I would have beaten the crap out of you right then and there.”

Megumi’s expression didn’t soften. “I know it was pathetic of me, but if she knew what’s in this report, she’d hate us for keeping it from her.”

Haibara straightened, his posture tense. “You think she doesn’t know? She’s not stupid, Megumi. She knows something’s wrong. She just... doesn’t want to deal with it.”

Megumi’s fists clenched on the table. “That’s not good enough. She’s carrying twins, Haibara. Not just any twins—Special Grade Sorcerer twins. Her stomach glows like a fucking lighthouse for anyone who can sense cursed energy. I really don’t understand how those losers didn’t see it. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is for someone in her condition?”

Haibara’s gaze dropped, and for a moment, he looked almost defeated. “I see it. Believe me, I want to strangle them just as much as you do.”

The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Finally, Haibara spoke, his voice quieter. “So, what’s the plan, genius? You want to tell her? Confront her with the report and hope she doesn’t blow up?”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “No. Not yet. She’s under enough stress already.”

“Then what?” Haibara pressed.

Megumi leaned back, his gaze distant but calculating. “We work around her. We make sure she eats without making it obvious. We take shifts if we have to.”

Haibara’s lips quirked into a faint, bitter smile. “So we’re babysitting her now?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Megumi said again, his voice resolute.

Haibara pushed off the counter, his customary swagger creeping back into his step. “Alright, boss. Let’s see if your plan works. But if she catches on and decides to kill us, I’m blaming you.”

Megumi sighed. “I’ll take the blame.”

---

On the other side of HQ, your employees were scattered—some perched on tables, others standing, dramatically reenacting what seemed to be the courtyard scene of an unwritten soap opera. The walls were plastered with hastily scribbled whiteboard notes, arrows connecting phrases like ‘pregnancy bombshell,’ ‘Nanami: protective husband arc,’ and ‘Haibara supremacy confirmed.’ Someone had added ‘K-drama-level tension’ in glittery pink marker.

“‘You’re trespassing.’ Like, bro, chill. They brought soup, not nukes.”

“But nooo, gotta keep the ‘I’m colder than a polar bear’s ass’ persona alive.”

“‘For our fucking wife,’ he says. Man’s out here declaring ownership like it’s the 1800s. Meanwhile, Megumi’s over here like, ‘Perish.’ This is a Shakespearean tragedy-level mess.”

“‘Our wife,’ but she’s out there about to eat Haibara like a feral cat. Priorities, Gojo!”

“But can we talk about how Gojo’s forehead got incinerated in real-time? Man didn’t deserve that, but also... he kinda did.”

“Gojo really thought he could charm his way through that? Bro, you’re not the main character here. Megumi said, ‘CEO of Don’t Try Me Solutions,’ and Haibara hit Nanami with, ‘MI6, bitch.’”

“‘She could die,’ I felt that in my soul. Like, are we not just employees anymore? Are we side characters in a live-action K-drama?”

“Guys, guys. The real question is: why are y’all simping for the most emotionally unavailable men in the building? Like, Gojo? Trauma core. Haibara? Certified menace. Nanami? Daddy issues on legs.”

“But why did she threaten to eat Haibara? Like, girl, we get it. You’re feral, but maybe chill?”

“And then Haibara was like, ‘Your girl’s calling me,’ and walked off like he didn’t just commit emotional manslaughter. Low-key? King behaviour.”

“Bro, Gojo’s whole soul left his body. He was standing there like a kicked puppy, holding soup like it was an olive branch in the Hunger Games.”

Someone playing Nanami, on his knees, clutched his chest like he was in a Bollywood tragedy. “‘She could die.’” He fake-sobbed, looking up at the stand-in for Megumi.

“Did Nanami really say, ‘die with them’? Like, bro, that’s not just a red flag—that’s the entire communist manifesto of toxic relationships.”

“Okay, but can we appreciate Megumi’s vibes? The smirk, the glare, the whole ‘don’t breathe in my direction’ energy? Sir, I’d like to subscribe to your newsletter.”

“Okay, but Haibara! Man walked in like he was carrying state secrets and left with a biryani bag. How does he do that? He’s not even trying, and he’s the main character.”

“That wink at Nanami? I felt that in my ovaries. And I don’t even like men.”

“If Haibara needs someone to help carry his biryani, I’m free.”

“You’d carry his biryani straight to HR, wouldn’t you?”

“And Megumi’s smirk? Man could power a nuclear reactor with that. Gojo’s charm didn’t stand a chance.”

“Bro, Gojo’s banned from everything. I heard he tried to bribe the janitor for Megumi’s lunch schedule.”

“Let’s not pretend we’re any better. Half of you would keel over if Gojo so much as breathed in your direction.” She shot a pointed look at one woman, who flipped her off.

“Let’s circle back to Megumi. That glare? Sir, therapy is three doors down.”

“Am I the only one worried about the undernutrition part? Like, yes, drama is fun, but maybe we should call a doctor? No? Cool, just me then.”

The employees all froze when the door creaked open.

It was Megumi, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. “Don’t you all have jobs?”

“We are working on the ‘villain energy game.’”

Megumi sighed, closed the door, and walked back to your office.

---

The day was running smoothly—or as smoothly as it ever could—until Sam burst into your office, clutching his tablet as if it might explode. His face was pale, his expected unhinged confidence replaced by something unsettling: genuine concern.

“You need to see this,” he said, his voice subdued.

You took the tablet, your eyes scanning the screen.

#TwoHolesForAReason was back with a vengeance, accompanied by a fresh wave of vile doctored images. One particularly egregious post showed a manipulated photo of you, dishevelled and exhausted, with the caption:

"When being married to two terrorists ruins your beauty and career, but at least you're stuffed full of dicks."

You gritted your teeth as you scrolled through hundreds—no, thousands—of similar posts. Some were disgustingly graphic, while others hid their malice behind mock sympathy. All aimed to tear you down.

Sam hovered nervously. “It’s... everywhere. Even the investors are panicking.”

You stared at the screen for a long moment, fury building under your skin. Then a humourless laugh escaped your lips, so cold it made Sam flinch.

“Idiots,” you muttered, tossing the tablet onto your desk as if it had personally offended you.

Haibara walked in, unbothered. “What’s the hubbub?”

Sam pointed to the tablet. Haibara took one look and grunted. “Wow. Creative. Didn’t know middle schoolers were running smear campaigns these days.”

Megumi leaned against your desk, his expression darkening as he read over Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll find out who’s behind it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, rising to your feet. “We’re shutting it down.”

---

It didn’t take long for the vultures to circle.

The boardroom buzzed with tension as the executives filed in, their smugness as palpable as the overpriced cologne clinging to the air. Papers shuffled, pens clicked, and glances exchanged like unspoken conspiracies.

One of them, an older man with a shiny bald head that reflected the fluorescent lights like a spotlight, leaned forward with the faux gravity of someone who thought himself important. “Mrs.—”

“Allow me to clarify,” you interrupted smoothly, not bothering to mask your irritation. “I am nobody’s wife in this room. Here, I am your Founder and CEO. Let’s stick to relevant titles.”

His face reddened, but he cleared his throat and tried again. “Of course, my apologies. We’ve called this emergency meeting to discuss the company’s image under your leadership.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your belly in a deliberate show of calm control. “My leadership built this company. What’s the issue?”

A younger man chimed in, his tone overly conciliatory. “The issue is the... unfavourable attention your personal life has drawn recently. Investors are concerned about the long-term impact on the company’s reputation.”

Your eyebrow arched. “Unfavorable attention? You’re referring to the slander and misinformation I am currently addressing while you waste my time with redundant meetings?”

The younger man faltered, but a woman at the far end of the table, her poorly woven hair perched precariously on her head, jumped in. “With all due respect, this goes beyond a few rumours. Your personal matters have bled into the company’s operations. Your... husbands storming this very building caused injuries and property damage. The media frenzy hasn’t stopped since. And now, you’ve returned suddenly, pregnant and still tied to a highly publicized poly marriage.”

Her words hung in the air, each one a carefully aimed barb.

“Me being pregnant is an issue; why?” you asked, icy.

“We’re simply suggesting,” the bald man interjected, “that for the good of the company, you consider stepping down—temporarily, of course—until this all blows over.”

The room fell silent.

You tilted your head slightly and smiled predatorily—the kind that made grown men sweat. “Step down? Because of a trending hashtag?”

“It’s not just the hashtag,” another board member piped up, emboldened by the tension. “There’s the matter of your husbands’ actions, the disruption to our HQ, and the risk of further incidents. The optics alone—”

You silenced him, your voice low and measured. “The optics? Let me be clear: I built this company. Every game, every cross-platform integration, and every dollar in your quarterly bonuses exists because of me. I negotiated every deal, spearheaded every innovation, and solved every crisis. I even paid for the damages out of my own pocket. And now, because of a handful of manipulated images and an incident I had no part in—except actively fighting them off—you think you can compel me to step down?”

You limited your words to corporate lingo; otherwise, you’d outright sound like Toji.

The bald man tried to speak, but you held up a hand.

“Where were you when the building was being terrorized? Where were all of you? Because I did not receive a single call, nor did my teams. Neither did the injured.”

The room was frozen.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you said, your tone steely. “You’re going to sit down, shut up, and let me clean up this mess. If anyone in this room so much as whispers the words ‘step down’ again, I will personally ensure they never work in any tech or gaming company on the planet. I still hold the majority of shares, which means I hold all the cards. Do not test me.”

“Understood?”

They nodded reluctantly, the smugness drained from their faces.

“Good.” Gripping the table, you stood, smoothing your coat and fixing them with a final, icy stare. “Meeting adjourned.”

As the boardroom emptied, whispers erupted among your employees, many of whom had been hovering nearby.

“She just ended their entire careers in one sentence.”

“Did you see the bald guy’s face? He looked like he was about to cry.”

One bolder employee muttered, “And they think she’s the problem? Meanwhile, her husbands are walking red flags with a combined body count.”

Another chimed in, “Yeah, but they’re hot red flags. That’s the worst kind.”

“Greg, please stop simping for terrorists!”

As you strode back to your office, your vision blurred. The edges of the hallway swam, and the coppery taste of blood filled your mouth. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay upright.

Inside your office, your employees were gathered, their faces filled with worry.

“Crisis averted,” you said. “Everyone, get back to work, please.”

They hesitated but scattered, murmuring among themselves.

Dove lingered, her expression uncertain. “Boss, maybe you should rest—”

“Dove,” you said, shooing her off. “Go.”

Once everyone left, Megumi was already opening an electrolyte drink and handing it to you, leaning casually against your desk.

“So... who’s first on the hit list? Baldy with the overcompensating cologne or Wigged Sharon?” Haibara inquired.

You smirked, taking a sip. “All of them.”

Megumi held up a tablet. “I pulled the IP addresses of the accounts spreading the worst posts. They’re mostly bot farms, but a few are traceable. Some even belong to your investors.”

“Perfect.” You set the glass down. “Dismantle them. Quietly.”

Megumi was already calling someone.

Haibara grinned, shaking his head. “You’re like Maggie, but without the illegal underground moonshine ring.”

“Keep flattering me,” you said dryly, “and I might even promote you to court jester.”

Haibara laughed. “Haven’t played it in years; wanna play sometime?”

“Me neither, so definitely.” You agreed easily.

Megumi hummed in agreement as well before you both had to ask.

“So, what’s the plan? Burn their careers to the ground, or are you playing the long game?” Haibara smirked.

“Both,” you replied, chugging the energy drink. “First, we stabilize the optics. Then we eliminate the dead weight.”

Megumi glanced up from his laptop. “I can draft the shareholder communication.”

"Yes, thank you, Megs,” you said. “Please make it clear that I’m still in control. Frame the board’s behaviour as a distraction from the company’s goals. If they want to play games, we’ll show them how it’s done.”

Haibara chuckled. “Terrifying.”

“One does not survive corporate life without eliciting fear. Which is what Ken should have...”

You grimaced and cut yourself off, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you. The sensation was becoming all too familiar, a reminder of the body horror that accompanied your pregnancy. You could almost feel the weight of it—the way it twisted and turned inside you—a constant reminder of their fathers.

Your friends changed the topic, sensing your discomfort, but the unease lingered in the back of your mind.

---

A few blocks down in a rooftop restaurant, Nanami and Gojo stood, watching your building. Gojo’s six eyes scanned the floors, his hands fidgeting as he tracked your movements.

“She’s not okay,” Gojo muttered, his voice tight.

Nanami’s jaw gritted.

“She’s going to collapse if she keeps this up,” Gojo continued.

“Have patience,” Nanami said calmly.

Gojo’s frustration bubbled over. “How can you just do nothing?”

Nanami folded his arm. “Leave it to Megumi. Haibara might not remember me, but I still know how to get him riled up to work in our favour. He was never a strategist.”

Gojo’s shoulders slumped, expectant. “You ready to betray him?”

“He doesn’t know us anymore; he said so himself.”

---

The glow of Megumi’s laptop screen painted faint, shifting shadows across the room. He sat on the couch, legs crossed, his posture tense despite the rhythmic click of his fingers against the keys. His focus, at least outwardly, was on your grand plan—the one he’d quietly poured himself into without needing to ask or complain.

You were on the adjacent couch, your gaming laptop’s vivid hues casting a surreal glow over your features. Your attention was divided, bouncing between emails, analytics, and some half-finished documents. But your fingers had slowed. Megumi glanced up just as your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut.

In minutes, you were out.

He returned to his work—or tried to—until something moved beneath your shirt.

Megumi froze, his stomach twisting in an unfamiliar way. A tiny hand pressed against the fabric, followed by a foot, then the vague outline of a face. His chest tightened.

“What the…” The words barely escaped his lips.

The twins shifted again, their tiny movements both mesmerising and unsettling. He flinched when the door creaked open. Haibara strolled in, his smirk in place, a bag of snacks dangling from one hand.

Megumi raised a finger to his lips, shushing him sharply.

Haibara stopped mid-step, his brows knitting together as he followed Megumi’s gaze to you, sprawled out and oblivious, one hand draped protectively over your belly. His smirk faltered.

“What’s happening?” Haibara whispered, crouching beside Megumi.

“Look,” Megumi muttered, gesturing toward your midsection.

Haibara leaned in, his expression shifting from curiosity to outright disbelief as the twins moved again. “What the hell are they doing? Trying to dig their way out?”

Megumi’s glare was immediate. “Don’t touch her.”

“Relax.” Haibara held his hands up defensively, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. “You’re acting like they’re going to burst out and take over your business. Just let me see... what it feels like?”

“It feels like you should leave it alone.”

Ignoring the warning, Haibara reached out, only to jerk back when the twins kicked again. “Nope. Nope. I’m good.” He pointed accusingly at your stomach, his characteristic bravado cracking. “That’s not normal.”

“You think hexes are normal?” Megumi shot back, though his tone lacked its regular edge. His attention drifted back to you, his gaze softening despite himself. “Although she’s not scared.”

Haibara let out a dry laugh, leaning against the armrest. “Because she’s her. Chaos incarnate. She’d stare down a volcano and bet it wouldn’t erupt just to prove a point.”

Megumi’s lips twitched, but he said nothing.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the faint hum of the heater and your steady breathing. Haibara shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between you and Megumi.

“Think they’ll inherit her attitude?” He asked finally, his voice lighter than his expression.

Megumi didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quieter. “Probably. Not a bad thing.”

Haibara’s gaze lingered on you, a shadow of something unreadable crossing his face. “Not bad, huh?” His words were light, but his tone carried a weight that Megumi didn’t address.

Before the silence could stretch, you stirred, a soft groan slipping past your lips. Both men froze.

Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison, too quickly, too high-pitched.

You frowned but were too tired to argue. With a small yawn, you shifted, your hand resting over your belly again. “Weirdos,” you muttered before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Haibara let out a quiet breath, his shoulders relaxing. He glanced at Megumi, who was staring at you with an expression he quickly masked.

“She called you a weirdo,” Haibara teased, his grin returning.

“She called us weirdos,” Megumi corrected, his tone clipped.

“Yeah, but she meant you more.” Haibara leaned back, smug.

Megumi ignored him, his attention returning to your belly. The twins moved again, and despite everything—despite the chaos you brought, the complications you were, and the way you never saw him the way he sometimes wished you would—he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Haibara leaned in slightly, his voice lower now. “You think she knows how lucky they are? How lucky we are?”

Megumi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. Haibara didn’t press; his eyes stayed on you, his smirk replaced by something thoughtful.

“You ever think about how she does it?” he asked, his voice unusually quiet.

Megumi’s brow furrowed. “Does what?”

“Handles all this.” Haibara gestured vaguely toward your sleeping form. “The mess. The plans. The… future.” He hesitated before adding, “Them.”

“She doesn’t think about it like that,” Megumi replied, his tone clipped. “She just... does it.”

Haibara huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That’s her, alright. Always diving in headfirst.”

Megumi didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on your hand resting over your belly, the way your fingers twitched slightly in your sleep, as if even in unconsciousness, you were protecting them.

Haibara tilted his head, studying Megumi. “You ever wonder if she regrets it?”

Megumi’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “Why would she?”

Haibara shrugged, though his expression betrayed the casual gesture. “I don’t know. She’s got this whole... empire thing going on. Then there are the twins.” He nodded toward your belly.

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “She regrets the people but not the twins.”

“You sound sure,” Haibara said, leaning back. “But maybe you’re just saying that because you want to believe it.”

“Drop it,” Megumi muttered, his tone sharper than he intended.

Haibara raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just making conversation.”

The silence returned, heavier this time. Haibara’s gaze flickered back to you, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“She’s still the same, though,” he said after a moment, his voice softer now. “Same fire. Same recklessness. Same way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room when she looks at you. Like she actually sees you.”

Megumi’s hands clenched into fists. “What’s your point?”

Haibara hesitated, his eyes meeting Megumi’s. For a moment, there was something raw in his expression, something unguarded. But then he smirked, the mask slipping back into place.

“No point,” he said, his tone light again. “Just... nostalgia from before I left for London, I guess.”

Megumi didn’t respond. His gaze drifted back to you, his expression unreadable.

Haibara chuckled quietly, though there was no humor in it. “You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter now.”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “Thought what?”

Haibara shrugged, popping a chip into his mouth. “Nothing important.”

“Haibara,” Megumi said warningly.

Haibara sighed, his smirk faltering again. “I thought maybe if things had been different, if I hadn’t left before…” He paused, his eyes flickering to your sleeping form. “But they weren’t. And they aren’t. So.”

Megumi’s chest tightened. He wanted to snap at Haibara, to tell him to shut up, to stop saying things that didn’t need to be said. But he didn’t, because part of him understood.

“Doesn’t matter,” Haibara repeated, more to himself than to Megumi. “She’s back. That’s what counts, right?”

Megumi looked at him, his expression hard. “Yeah. That’s what counts.”

Haibara nodded, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. Then he stood, stretching exaggeratedly. “Well, I’ll bring the car around; it’s getting late. Enjoy your vigil, Fushiguro.”

Megumi watched him go, his footsteps echoing softly in the hallway.

He turned back to you, his gaze softening despite himself. The twins moved again, and this time, he didn’t flinch.

“You’re not scared,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I won’t be either.”

You shifted slightly in your sleep, your hand tightening over your belly. Megumi leaned back, resting his head against the couch, his eyes staring into space.

After a bit, he got up, packed your laptops and his, and called his secretary to arrange for a flat in your building by the end of the week. Then he gently woke you and walked you to Haibara’s car, where he was waiting.

---

Once delivering you to ‘home/hell,’ Haibara turned to you with an uncharacteristic seriousness. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around? I can sleep on the couch. Or the roof. I’m versatile.”

Megumi, still scrolling through his phone in the backseat, didn’t bother looking up. “He snores. It’s like sharing a house with a sentient chainsaw.”

“At least I don’t sleep with my eyes half open like some Silent Hill reject,” Haibara shot back.

“That was one time,” Megumi muttered, unamused.

Despite the weight in your chest, a faint chuckle escaped. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for today.”

Haibara gave you a look that screamed, I don’t believe you, but okay. “Call if you need anything. And I mean anything. You want a yacht? I’ll steal one.”

You chuckled faintly. “Thanks, but I can afford yachts.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Rich people and their yachts. Megumi, let’s buy a submarine instead. Classier.”

Megumi finally glanced up. “Or we could stay on land like sane people.”

They walked you to the door, bickering the entire way.

Before you stepped inside, Megumi reached out and ruffled your hair. “I’ve increased security around here and at the office. If you faint, I’m installing 24/7 surveillance in your home. Don’t test me. Eat properly.”

You swatted his hand away, but his words lingered.

Bidding them goodbye, you shut the door and stood in the silence.

Too much silence.

Again.

The penthouse was eerily still, as if the air itself had grown heavy with awkward tension.

You headed straight for the old bedroom, not sparing the men a glance. Gojo and Nanami sat in the living room, their postures stiff, like overgrown schoolboys waiting for detention.

Gojo broke the silence, his voice cracking. “Baby, please—”

You walked past him without acknowledgement, your steps echoing in the quiet.

Nanami stood and followed, his voice low. “Let me help you carry—”

The door clicked shut behind you before he could finish.

The bedroom smelled faintly of them, and the sight of the bed you used to share turned your stomach. Moving methodically, you grabbed clothes, toiletries, and anything else you needed, avoiding any unnecessary glances in the room.

Opening a drawer, your hand froze when your eyes fell on a small envelope with your name, tucked into the corner.

An ultrasound.

Your heart sank. They’d heard the sound of your babies’ heartbeats without you.

Your hands trembled as you picked it up, the weight of it heavier than it should have been. You shoved it into your pocket, ignoring the pang in your chest.

You opened the door and walked past them again, carrying your things to the guest room.

The scalding shower that followed did little to help. The water seared your skin, but it couldn’t burn away the weight pressing down on your chest. Fresh clothes felt like armour, and the guest bed—while foreign—was at least yours.

---

Sometime later, the knock came like a countdown to something catastrophic. You had been staring at the spare living room TV, wondering how you’d drag it to your room. Everything else around you was a blur through the fog of your thoughts. The robe you wore felt too heavy against your skin, every fibre brushing against you like sandpaper.

Behind you, Gojo and Nanami were arguing in hushed tones, their voices tense. It was always tense now. You didn’t bother listening; they rarely said anything worth hearing anymore. But when the knock came, they stopped mid-sentence.

“Don’t answer that,” Gojo said, his Infinity thrumming faintly, a nervous hum that matched the way his hands twitched at his sides. Nanami’s face was unreadable, but his stance had shifted, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet—ready.

You ignored them both, padding to the door like a sleepwalker. When you opened it, the officers standing there didn’t look surprised to see you, dishevelled and wan. The lead officer’s eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment.

“Ma’am, we’re here to take Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento into custody,” he said, his tone professional. “They’re being re-arrested on charges related to the incident at your company headquarters.”

You blinked, confused. "I... I don’t understand. At night?”

“We’ve received new orders,” he replied. His gaze shifted past you, landing on the two men who had moved to flank you, their postures screaming defiance. “Please step aside.”

Gojo’s laugh was sharp and humourless. “You’ve got to be kidding. She’s pregnant. High-risk, no less. You can’t just drag us off.”

Nanami’s voice was quieter but no less intense. “She needs us. Stress could harm her and the babies.”

Who the fuck told them it was high risk? Were they lying to get out of jail? On your account?

Just when you thought they couldn’t get worse!!!

You jerked involuntarily, your hand brushing over your stomach. The movement wasn’t lost on the officers, who exchanged uneasy glances. But the lead officer didn’t waver.

“We’re not here to debate,” he said firmly, gesturing for his team to move in.

The cuffs came out, and Gojo’s Infinity flared instinctively, a shimmering barrier that held them at bay, but they didn’t seem to notice yet.

“Gojo, stop,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with something that made him falter.

You used his last name. You had never even used it when you guys first met.

And then the cramp hit. Sharp, twisting pain that stole your breath and buckled your knees. You gasped, clutching your stomach, your legs giving out beneath you.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice cracked as he caught you. “Shit, shit, shit. Breathe. Just breathe.”

Nanami was at your other side, his steady hands shaking as they pressed against your back. “What’s wrong?” he asked you, eyes broken and scared.

The cops hesitated, torn between duty and the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Cramp…. Hurts…” You breathed out clutching Nanami’s shirt while the pain brought tears to your eyes.

“Thank god, I’m not a woman and can’t get pregnant even if the people on the internet try every day.”

All eyes turned to the doorway, where Higuruma Hiromi stood, his briefcase in hand and his expression smug.

“Who the hell are you?” One of the officers demanded.

“Most desired lawyer in the country and your accused's legal counsel,” Higuruma replied coolly, stepping inside.

He handed over a stack of documents. “This is a court order preventing their arrest until after the completion of her pregnancy. Given her medical condition, their presence is deemed essential for her well-being. Any undue stress could endanger her and the unborn children. Do you really want that liability on your hands?” He declared, back to business.

Your husbands looked at each other, thinking that Ijichi must have tattled to Yaga, who would’ve created a backup plan.

The lead officer’s jaw tensed, but he took the documents and scanned them. After a long moment, he sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Fine. But they can’t leave the country, and we’ll be monitoring them closely.”

“Of course,” Higuruma replied smoothly, his tone as dry as the Sahara.

Then the officer turned to you, his demeanour shifting from stern professionalism to something almost... reverent. “Ma’am,” he said, pulling out a card from his breast pocket with the air of someone bestowing a sacred relic. “Here’s my card. Please feel free to contact me directly if you need anything.”

You blinked, thrown by the sudden change in tone. The officer’s gaze flicked to your face, then to your stomach, then back to your face. His ears were a little too pink for someone allegedly unflappable.

Before you could react, Gojo snatched the card mid-air, his grin venomous. “Thank you, Officer Friendly, but I think we’ve got this handled. I’ll call if we need anything.”

The officer’s expression hardened, his jaw flexing as he snatched the card right back with the precision of someone who definitely practiced baton drills too much. He leaned slightly closer to you, his voice lowering into something almost conspiratorial. “I’d really rather not have terrorists calling me. But you, ma’am—please call anytime.”

Nanami’s grip on your arm tightened imperceptibly, his gaze icy, clipping the space between you and the officer like an invisible barrier. “I believe we’re done here,” he said evenly, his tone calm but carrying enough weight to make the officer hesitate.

The officer held his ground, though his resolve wavered slightly under Nanami’s unrelenting glare. Finally, he handed you the card with a small bow that was entirely unnecessary but also entirely intentional.

Gojo’s laugh was a sharp bark devoid of humour. “Wow. Bold move. Should I call HR on you for harassment, or do we settle this with a good old-fashioned duel?”

“HR?” the officer asked, his lips twitching upward. “What’s that like for someone suspended indefinitely?”

Higuruma, standing off to the side, pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “idiots.”

You sighed, pocketing the card without comment, your patience wearing thin. “Thank you, officer!” You smiled, your tone happier than you intended but justified given the circus playing out around you while your stomach tried to stab itself metaphorically.

The officer gave you one last lingering look before gesturing for his team to follow him out. As they filed out, Gojo muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Bet he practices handing out business cards in the mirror.”

The officer stopped in his tracks, turning back just enough to say, “And I bet you practice losing everything you’ve ever loved. Looks like it’s paying off.”

The door slammed shut before Gojo could respond, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

Nanami cleared his throat, his expression blank but his ears noticeably red. “Well. That was... unprofessional.”

Gojo turned to you and Nanami, his eyes wide with exaggerated indignation. “Are you seeing this? Are we seeing this? Did he just flirt with my wife in front of me while I’m literally being arrested?!”

You raised an eyebrow, deadpan and stared at Higuruma, refusing to make eye contact with your husbands.

Gojo internally threw his hands up, looking at Nanami for backup. “Say something!”

Nanami’s expression was neutral, but his tone was pointed. “Perhaps he just appreciates the way she carries herself. Unlike others who spend their time making scenes.”

“Scenes?!” Gojo gasped. “This isn’t a scene! This is self-defence! That guy was ready to propose on the spot!”

“Can’t blame him,” Higuruma added, smirking as he snapped his briefcase shut. “She is a trillionaire CEO. Meanwhile, you two are, what? Notorious ex-terrorists with zero tact?”

Nanami looked personally offended, while Gojo muttered, “I regret hiring you.”

Higuruma shrugged, clearly unbothered. “You didn’t. And you’re welcome.”

You moved a hand to rest on the back of your waist, pain searing through you.

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your hair. “It’s okay, baby. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let them fuss over you, their desperation palpable. But when Higuruma spoke again, his voice was low, serious.

“You really need to stop falling down so often,” he said in a dry voice, eyes flicking to you.

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing over your stomach in a gesture that could have been maternal if not for the glint in your eyes. “Why would I, when I always have such big, strong pairs of hands ready to catch me?” You straightened, shrugging off your husbands' hands as you stood. 

The silence that followed was palpable. Gojo and Nanami stayed frozen, their gazes a mix of reverence and desperation.

Was that...teasing? 

Hope flickered in their eyes—the kind of hope you hadn’t seen in a long while.

Hiromi scoffed, breaking the moment.

“What? It’s not their fault they’re attached to terrorists,” you smiled.

Hiromi chuckled, his low laugh carrying a hint of approval. “True. I don’t agree with it, but getting them arrested only to bail them out? Was hilarious. And the lack of your fingerprints, DNA, or blood in any systems made forging the documents way too easy. Thanks for doing half the work.”

Gojo and Nanami stood like statues, the gears in their heads grinding to comprehend what they’d just heard.

“If you really wanna thank me, carry that to my room.” You gestured at the spare TV in the corner of the giant living room, your tone as sweet as honey and just as sticky. The doe-eyed look you threw Hiromi would’ve melted a lesser man.

Hiromi faux-sighed, trying to hide a twitch of his lips. “You’re my most demanding client,” he said, but he complied, setting his briefcase and coat down, rolling up his sleeves, and lifting the 65-inch TV easily. He followed you to your room, then held the TV against the wall while you connected wires and fiddled with the settings.

Gojo and Nanami watched, stunned into silence. Their jaws were practically on the floor at your pornographic behaviour—you’d asked Hiromi for help, not them. The sting of rejection was sharp, but the sheer audacity of the scene left them too shocked to speak.

Gojo grabbed Nanami’s arm as the latter made a move toward the hallway. “Baby will kill us!”

“She can’t,” Nanami muttered, his jaw tight as he tried to shake Gojo off.

“But she’ll never forgive us and run away again,” Gojo hissed, tightening his grip. “And that’s worse.”

Hiromi walked out moments later, then slung his coat over his shoulder and took his briefcase. He winked at the two men before walking out, which sent Gojo’s cursed energy flaring.

This time Nanami held Gojo back. “He’s more than five years older than her. Remember? She’s not into older men.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed. “So what? She likes it when we’re jealous. A little bit of purple hasn’t killed anyone... yet—I’ll even make it micro.”

Before Gojo could finish his argument, you reappeared, dragging the long HDMI cable—from your home office PC—in one hand and your other hand resting on your belly. You walked past them without a word, towards your room to connect it to your TV with a focus that only further bruised their egos.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice was barely a whisper, a mix of confusion and fear laced through the words.

Hiromi’s laughter echoed faintly from the elevator as the doors slid shut, leaving your husbands to stew in their own comedic misery.

“Thank you for playing your parts so well,” you said, stopping and turning to them, your tone so light it suspiciously sounded like a serial killer.

“What are you talking about?” Nanami questioned.

You laughed; a sound so cold it made the room feel like a tomb. “Oh, come on. Did you really think I was the victim here? That I didn’t know exactly what I was doing? That I wouldn’t save my reputation and my company? That I’d just sit there and let you humiliate me like some obedient little housewife? Aww, sweet Toru and Kenny, you really don’t know me at all.”

Their silence and wide eyes were enough.

You walked into the living room and switched the TV on to a news segment replaying your earlier interview. The headline scrolled across the bottom: CEO Calls for Justice Against Corruption.

“Watch closely,” you said, stepping back.

//

Your face appeared on screen, addressing a virtual conference. “I am here to address the wave of misinformation, targeted harassment, and societal hypocrisy that has overshadowed the recent events surrounding my personal life and professional endeavours.”

You paused, allowing the gravity of your words to sink in. The silence commanding attention.

“For weeks, I have been the subject of a relentless smear campaign. Doctored photos, slanderous hashtags, and vile comments have spread like wildfire. I am not here to defend myself against lies. The truth speaks for itself.”

Your gaze shifted slightly as if addressing each viewer individually. “What I am here to ask is this: Why is it that the victims—particularly women—are vilified while the perpetrators are exalted?”

The room seemed to be still as your voice sharpened. “My husbands stormed this very building, injuring employees, destroying property, and disrupting the livelihoods of countless individuals. They were released within hours. Hours. Meanwhile, I—almost six months pregnant—am subjected to public humiliation and professional sabotage, even though I was the one defending my employees. I ask you, what kind of justice system allows this?”

You leaned forward, your hands pressing against the table. “Why am I being hounded by reporters, deepfake pornographic videos, and accusations while the men responsible for this chaos roam free? Why do they continue to be idolised, their actions excused, and their faces plastered on social media as objects of desire? Why is my character, my competence, and my humanity questioned simply because I exist as a woman in a position of power?”

Your voice softened, but the tension in the air only grew. “This isn’t just about me. This is about every woman who has been blamed for the actions of others. This is about a society that continues to hold women to impossible standards while excusing men for behaviour that should be condemned. This is about a judicial system that protects the powerful and punishes the vulnerable.”

The chat feature on the News channel exploded with comments:

"She’s right. Why aren’t they being held accountable?”

"She’s pregnant and dealing with this? What the hell is wrong with you people?”

"Typical. Men screw up, women pay the price.”

"Oh, but if a man was in her place, y’all wouldn’t care. Hypocrites.”

"How about holding everyone accountable? This gender war is exhausting.”

You sat back slightly, exuding calm control even as your words pierced like a blade. “I built this company from scratch. I’ve led it to heights no one thought possible for a gaming company. And yet, here I am, fighting not just for my reputation but for my right to exist without being reduced to my relationships. To those perpetuating this harassment, I have one thing to say: You will be held accountable. Legally. Financially. Publicly.”

You placed a hand on your stomach, your voice softening yet still carrying a firm edge. “I am bringing two lives into this world, and my focus should be on their well-being, not defending myself against baseless attacks. To everyone who has contributed to this circus: consider what you are forcing me to endure and what you are creating for my children to encounter as they grow up. Reflect on the world you are shaping for the next generation.”

Another pause. The silence deliberate.

“To the judicial system, I ask: Where is the accountability for those who stormed this building and endangered innocent lives? Where is the justice for the employees injured, for the property destroyed, for the lives disrupted? And to those watching, I ask: Will you stand by and allow this hypocrisy to continue? Or will you demand better—from your media, your government, and yourselves?”

The chat continued to explode:

"She’s calling out the entire system. Respect.”

"She’s doing this while pregnant? Absolute legend.”

"Not all men, but somehow always a man.”

"She’s manipulating y’all. Open your eyes.”

"Even if she’s manipulating us, tell me this: why are we letting them off the hook?”

“If those men were ugly with would have been an episode of ‘True Detective.’”

Your gaze hardened as you delivered your final words. “This is not just my fight. This is a fight for justice and for accountability. And I will not stop until it is won.”

The stream ended, but the world did not remain silent.

News channels replayed the clip endlessly, social media platforms were flooded with debates, and public opinion was polarized.

“Going against the two terrorists, yakuza or whatever they are while being pregnant with their kids and living with them requires guts.”

"She’s a feminist icon we need but don’t deserve.”

"Accountability for everyone, not just her husbands.”

"The justice system is broken. She’s right.”

"Her poly marriage is still weird, though.”

Some called for the immediate re-arrest of Gojo and Nanami. Others accused you of deflecting blame. Gender dynamics became a flashpoint, with men and women clashing over who bore the brunt of societal judgment.

Protests were being held outside government buildings, demanding reform and accountability. Your name became a rallying cry, a symbol of resilience and defiance.

Meanwhile, government officials scrambled to address the public outcry. Arrest warrants for your husbands were quietly reissued.

//

You muted the broadcast, fixing them with a manic smile they’d never seen before—one that somehow felt more real than any expression they’d witnessed on you. “Now that the entire nation is watching your spiral, maybe you’ll begin to understand. Understand what it feels like to have your autonomy stripped and your every move scrutinized. When I met you two all those years ago, I was wandering alone in public. I valued privacy, anonymity, the freedom to roam without interference. But you—” your voice stabbed like a scalpel “—only cared about yourselves. You stormed my headquarters, hurt my people, and left me no choice but to retaliate by sending people aimed to kill you both.”

You picked up the house iPad. Gojo’s account was still logged in, a fitting reminder of his carefree ignorance staring back at you as if mocking the weight of what you were about to reveal.

Without a word, you typed in the hashtag that had been haunting your mentions and shoved the device toward Nanami.

His expression darkened as his eyes scanned the posts, a deep crease forming between his brows. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the iPad tightly. The feed was a grotesque mosaic of fabricated images and videos depicting you in compromising positions—some pornographic, others manipulated with strangers. The comments were even more disturbing: venomous calls for your death, demands for punishment for being “unnatural” for being married to two men, and horrific assertions that, because of your supposed sex addiction, you deserved to be violated—raped by a mob with every object possible inserted and burned alive along with your babies—their babies.

Gojo’s hand shot out, snatching the iPad before Nanami could process it all. His lips pressed into a thin, furious line as his sharp blue eyes darted across the screen, scrolling through the filth.

Nanami seized the iPad and slammed it against the TV console, the crack of shattering glass reverberating through the penthouse.

“You couldn’t even watch it for five minutes,” you said, your voice low, the calmness more hurtful than any scream. Your gaze flicked between them, icy. “And it’s the accusation I’ve tried my whole life to outrun.”

Nanami’s jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck taut. “This—this is beyond cruel. These people are monsters.”

“Monsters don’t come from nowhere,” you shot back, your voice like a whip. “They’re made. By families, by communities, by men who laugh while girls like me are turned into jokes, into targets.”

Gojo took a step toward you, hand half-raised, but you flinched instinctively, moving your hands to cover your belly. It was subtle—a fraction of a second—but enough to freeze him in place.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “I’m so glad I never told you two where I came from. Maybe you would’ve joined the same mob—the same people who looked at me and deemed me unworthy of respect. A liar to laugh at when I tried to tell someone to intervene. Someone who deserved every bit of pain they inflicted.”

Nanami’s eyes softened, guilt flickering across his face, but you didn’t want his pity. You wanted him to feel it—the weight of everything they were forcing you to relive. Your family had laughed at you, called you a liar, deemed you a prostitute at six by your own mother, or simply shrugged it off, blaming your attire while ignoring the perpetrator entirely.

Soon, more people around you began to realize how your family neglected you, and that one person became part of a long list of anyone your child brain trusted.

That word, ‘whore,’ encapsulated your entire trauma and PTSD, and now they were forcing you to relive it a hundred times over. You mourned the little girl who believed justice was possible. You used to foolishly dream that one day you’d bravely stand in court, point at them, and destroy them, but now, just seeing them in passing felt like a death sentence, let alone letting the world know. The statute of limitations had passed you by like it never even existed. You had sought therapy, but nothing could break the freeze response your body triggered every time. Those were the days you built walls so high that no one could climb them.

Gojo opened his mouth, but no words came out. His wit and charm crumbled under the weight of your gaze.

“Don’t,” you warned, your tone cold. “Don’t you dare tell me it’s not true. You didn’t live it. You didn’t grow up in a house where your screams were ignored, where your pain was a punchline. You didn’t have to learn to fight with every bone in your body just to keep from breaking.”

Nanami exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “You should’ve told us,” he said finally, his voice quiet, almost pleading.

You shook your head. “And what would you have done? Held my hand? Told me it wasn’t my fault? That I shouldn’t let it define me like it never happened? That I am a survivor? It wouldn’t erase the nights I was left bleeding or the mornings I had to face the same people who swore they loved me while calling me a whore for being abused as a child.”

Gojo turned away, shoulders rigid, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He hated this—hated being confronted with something he couldn’t joke or blast his way out of.

“You think your anger fixes this?” you snapped, your voice rising. “It doesn’t. All it does is remind me why I’ve spent my whole life holding myself together after men like you—men who break fragile things.”

Nanami’s face crumpled, his stoicism replaced with raw guilt. “We’re not them,” he whispered.

You tilted your head, your expression unreadable. “Aren’t you? My babies will grow up with this easily accessible information about their mother on the internet, no matter what kind of image I try to present to them.”

Nanami gritted his teeth, fists tightening as if he wanted to punch something until it was pulp. Gojo looked at you hopefully. “I’ll fix this,” he spoke hoarsely, his tone serious. “I swear.”

But you didn’t want promises. You didn’t want an apology. You wanted them to understand that some pain wasn’t a wound—it was a part of you, etched into your bones.

“You can’t,” you said simply. “And that’s the problem.”

Gojo’s hands trembled as he stared at the shattered screen. "You should have trusted us," he said, his voice hollow, almost accusatory.

Your laugh was jagged, a broken sound. "Trust you? To do what? Scroll through my trauma like it’s entertainment? Smash a few more gadgets? Yell at the universe and call it a day?" You crossed your arms, daring them to argue. "You don’t get it. You’ll never get it."

Nanami stepped forward, his voice cracking. "We could’ve stopped it—"

"Stopped what?" you cut him off. "The hashtags? The photos? Or the years of fists and laughter and shame before I ever met you? Thank God I didn’t tell you anything if this is what I get in return.”

The room felt colder as your words hung in the air. "You think you’re heroes in this story? You’re not. You’re just the latest chapter."

Silence.

They couldn’t meet your gaze.

“You want to help?” you said finally, your voice like steel. “Stop making this about you. Stop pretending your guilt fixes anything. And stop acting like you can protect me from a world that’s been trying to destroy me since the day I was born.”

Nanami whispered an apology, his voice barely audible. Gojo didn’t even try.

You exhaled, your walls firmly back in place. “Megumi is taking care of it,” you said, your tone detached. “Because unlike you, he listens. And he doesn’t ask me to relive the worst parts of my life to prove himself, even when he hated me.”

You then sighed fondly. “You know Haibara even begged me to let him kill you that day, and honestly, I don’t know if he’d have succeeded. He’d just retired, finally at peace, but I had to plant him there anyway. Because I needed to know. I needed to see what you’d do. And you didn’t disappoint. I had to tell my best friend how to hurt my own husbands that day—who I would have given my remaining organs to, even if it meant dying. The people I thought would never betray me.” Your voice cracked slightly, but you steeled yourself. “Even after having two husbands, I still don’t have a single sane one.”

Gojo shrank back. Nanami stiffened, his fingers curling into fists.

“Here’s how this works,” you continued. “You’ll stay quiet. You’ll play along. Because if you so much as whisper about how I orchestrated this—caused civil disturbance for your arrest only to bail you out—or if you don’t go back to jail once the babies are born, I will ruin you. Completely. No money, no clan influence, no technique will save you. I will make you both the most hated beings on the planet.”

You didn’t wait for their reply. The broadcast continued as you walked to your room, the sound of your door closing serving as a final punctuation.

Gojo sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. Nanami remained standing, staring at the TV as the news anchor recapped what you’d set in motion.

“She planned this,” Nanami said. “Every step. Every goddamn step.”

Gojo exhaled sharply. “You have to admit I was right; she does hate us.”

Nanami’s eyes drifted around the room. “Do you remember her house when we first met her?”

Gojo’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, what about it?”

“There’s nothing like that here,” Nanami said, his voice low and filled with sorrow. “Nothing that’s hers. Nothing she’d choose for herself—just her wardrobe and work gadgets. All the decor suits our tastes, not hers.”

Gojo’s head snapped around, his six eyes scanning every detail—the decor, the glaring absence of her presence. His shoulders slumped, a sense of dread creeping in. “Do you think she… gave herself up? For us? Became a chameleon?”

“I think she did,” Nanami replied quietly, the weight of the realization heavy in the air. “She thought it was what we wanted, what would keep us close to her. She stopped taking pictures years ago. Remember her self-portraits? How breathtaking she used to look in those black and whites? She hasn’t taken any in ages. And I didn’t even notice.”

Gojo leaned back, his head thudding against the couch, a wave of regret washing over him. “I stopped asking her about her past. About where she came from. She used to dodge the questions, and we just let her.”

Nanami turned away, his shoulders tense. “Maybe she was never really here. Maybe we only saw what we wanted to see.”

Gojo leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair. His breath came uneven, a rhythm broken by thoughts he couldn’t quiet. Nanami stood frozen by the shattered iPad, his expression unreadable except for the tension in his jaw.

"She never told us," Gojo said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not once. And we never pushed, did we?"

Nanami’s gaze flickered to the dark TV screen, now speckled with shards of glass. "We thought we were respecting her privacy," he said hollowly. "But we weren’t. We were avoiding it."

Gojo’s laugh was humourless. "We didn’t want to deal with it. That’s the truth, isn’t it? We liked her being... mysterious. It was easier to pretend she didn’t come with baggage we couldn’t handle."

Nanami didn’t respond, but his silence was damning.

Gojo looked up, his six eyes dimmer than regular, like a light fading out. "Do you remember how she always flinched when someone raised their voice? Or how she desperately had to intervene when we argued?" His voice cracked on the last word, his throat dry and tight.

Nanami didn’t respond immediately, his hands tightening into fists so hard his nails left crescent-shaped marks in his palms. "I thought she just didn’t like us fighting," he said, his voice hollow, barely above a whisper. "But it wasn’t just a marital spat for her, was it? It was survival. She was defusing the way she must’ve done as a kid—because no one ever came for her when they turned to take their anger out on her." His breath hitched, and he clenched his jaw to steady himself, failing.

Gojo’s hand drifted to his forearm, fingers tracing absent patterns over faint scars only he could see. "She joked about how she hated hugs. I thought it was just her being quirky, but now..." His voice faltered, breaking into silence as he looked down at his lap, shoulders slumping forward. "Now I see it. She didn’t hate them. She just didn’t trust them. How could she, after..." He couldn’t finish the sentence, his throat closing around the words like a vice.

Nanami sank onto the couch beside him, his head in his hands, his broad shoulders trembling under the weight of his guilt. "She never let us meet her family. Not once. All there ever was, was Megumi’s mother. And we didn’t ask why. We didn’t want to know why. I thought we were giving her space." His fingers dug into his scalp as if he could rip the thoughts from his mind. "But I’m starting to see it now, Satoru. She wasn’t protecting them from us—she was protecting herself from having to relive it."

Gojo’s jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch like he was afraid he might collapse. "She told me once she didn’t believe in justice," he said, his voice lifeless. "I thought she was just being cynical." He laughed bitterly, a sound devoid of humour, harsh and raw. "But she wasn’t. She was speaking from experience. From years of being told to shut up, to stay silent. Laughed at." He pressed the heel of his hand against his temple, the pressure doing nothing to stop the storm in his head.

Nanami’s breath shuddered as he exhaled, his voice trembling. "We let her be strong because it suited us. We didn’t want to confront what made her that way." His gaze dropped to his wrist, his thumb brushing over the vein there. A small, dark thought flickered through his mind before he shook it away.

Gojo’s hands trembled as he stared at them, the weight of their failure crushing him. "She never asked us for anything. Not once. Didn’t even let us spend much money on her, not even on that fucking ring she keeps throwing away. And we called it independence, but it wasn’t, was it? It was self-preservation." His fingers curled into his palms, nails biting into his skin, leaving burning faint red marks.

Nanami’s voice cracked, and he didn’t bother to hide it. "We should’ve seen it," he said, his tone thick with anguish. "The way she avoided being alone with people, the way she always sat with her back to the wall in restaurants. How she flinched when people touched her shoulder." His hands trembled, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It was all there. And we didn’t see it because we didn’t want to."

Gojo leaned back, his head thudding against the couch. He stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as if he could burn the image of her pain into his memory as penance. His voice was barely audible. "She built walls so high we didn’t even try to climb them. We just admired them from the ground and called it love." His lips twisted into a grimace, self-loathing etched into every line of his face.

Nanami’s hands dropped to his sides, his knuckles white from gripping his knees too hard. "She’s strong because she had to be," he said, his tone barely holding together. "And we took that strength for granted. Then made her relive the trauma in a hundred times worse possible way." He closed his eyes, the thought of her suffering making his stomach churn. A single tear slid down his cheek, unnoticed.

Gojo’s fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms. He welcomed the sting, the reminder of his own failures. “I can’t do this,” he muttered. “I can’t keep pretending we’re the good guys.”

Nanami didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for the whiskey bottle on the table, pouring himself a glass with steady hands. He stared at the amber liquid for a long moment but didn’t drink. “We’re not the good guys,” he said finally, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. “We never were.”

Gojo’s laugh was broken, filled with self-loathing. “So what are we, then?”

Nanami set the glass down with a heavy thud, his gaze meeting Gojo’s. “We’re the villains in her story.”

//

Behind closed doors, you let the mask and your scratchy robe slip altogether. The twins stirred faintly, but their calm felt like an extension of your own. Maybe it was because, for the first time, you’d stopped being afraid.

You logged onto the game, slipping on your headset for the voice-only chat with the team. Haibara’s voice came through immediately, cheerful and loud. “Finally! Took you long enough. Act well? Did the popo buy it?”

“Unfortunately,” you answered. Laughing at Haibara calling the police ‘popo.’ He had a way of making you laugh at the silliest things even after heavy moments—sometimes he didn’t even know about, like now.

“Thought you got caught in your own web.” Haibara teased.

“Not yet,” you muttered, smirking.

Megumi sighed. “Did the morons bother you again?”

“They tried,” you replied, sighing. “But I don’t wanna talk about it; let’s play; it’s already too late.”

“Bro, stop looting everything!” Haibara, as username PanicButton, yelled, the sound of gunfire echoing faintly. “You’re supposed to share the treasure.”

“It’s not my fault you’re slow,” Megumi deadpanned, his character swiping yet another chest. “Git gud.”

You laughed softly. “Focus, idiots. I didn’t log in to babysit you.”

“Babysit?!” Haibara gasped dramatically. “Says the one who can’t land a helicopter. Some gaming CEO you are.”

"Hey!” you shot back, “forgive me for not living online like you two losers. But watch me carry this possy.”

“Yeah, carry us straight off a cliff,” Megumi muttered, his character hopping onto a horse and bolting toward the next mission marker.

The banter was chaotic—the kind that made your stomach hurt from laughing. Testing unreleased games with Haibara and Megumi felt like a bizarre throwback to simpler times—if you could call it that.

Haibara zoomed in on the screen with a grin. “Oh, just ignore the fact that I totally saved your ass from that bison. Not everyone gets to be a hero.”

You sighed. “Yeah, a hero who throws me off a moving wagon mid-missions. Very heroic, 10/10.”

“That’s a tactical manoeuvre,” Haibara shot back with mock innocence. “You’ll thank me later.”

Megumi sighed, adjusting his position like he was the only sane one here. “We’re supposed to be hunting, not starting a podcast.”

“Well, hunting’s boring,” Haibara quipped, shooting at a random bird that was already halfway to Canada. The bullet missed by miles. “Look at that! Pure skill.”

“Very MI6 of you,” you said dryly, earning a snort from Megumi.

Out of nowhere, your character charged directly toward a camp full of armed NPCs. “Let’s see who gets shot first.”

The NPCs instantly zeroed in on you. Gunfire, shouting, and horses trampling everything in their path. Your character was dodging bullets like she had a sixth sense, but then Megumi’s character just jumped off a cliff into the swamp for no reason at all only to be immediately mulled by an alligator. All the while Haibara’s was busy taunting NPCs on the other side of the camp.

“Looks like the good Lord got your ass and face mixed up!” Haibara emoted at an NPC.

You burst out laughing and ran to join him, whispering to the male NPC’s wife, “Ma’am, you’d be beautiful if both your eyes looked in the same direction.”

Haibara, encouraged by your level of chaos, added to his NPC victim, “Bet your Pa wished he’d have pulled out.”

Megumi suddenly appeared behind Haibara, delivering some karmic justice. “Promise me you won’t have children, mister.”

You turned on Megumi, smirking. “I’m sorry, miss; there must have been a terrible accident.” You emoted pointing at his face. Because apparently, in Megumi’s gamer brain, playing with female characters was supposed to give him an edge.

Haibara joined forces with you. “How come you only have one eyebrow?”

You tipped your hat at Haibara. “You make me glad to be a criminal.”

Megumi wasn’t done with you two. “I’m gonna install Windows in your skull,” he grumbled.

“Stay in the kitchen,” you teased, watching Haibara spin in a circle on his horse before nearly crashing into a tree.

Then, an NPC passed Megumi, calling him a “filthy bitch” as he along with his horse crashed into the mud. You and Haibara immediately went chasing the NPC down while laughing your asses off.

It didn’t stop there. As all three of you became wanted, a lawman chasing Megumi yelled, “I love it when it’s a woman... Feels romantic.”

Another one yelled at you, “Shoot her, men! She ain’t no lady.”

Haibara went to buy ammo in Rhodes, and the shopkeeper shot him a confused look. “I don’t get many ladies in my shop.” He was in a male character.

Then, the lawman chasing Megumi, who still hadn’t given up his female character, yelled, “We ain't no Sunday soldiers, girly!”

After you all dripped yourself from the cash you’d earned, you strutted out to show off, and an NPC walked by, taunted, “Did you mean to leave the house looking like that?”

“Oh hell nah.” Both Haibara and Megumi yelled in unison and chased the NPC down with Molotov cocktails, only for him to get away while flipping them off.

One NPC had the audacity to yell,

“You did well in your last mission.

For a woman!”

You didn’t hesitate as you pulled out an elephant rifle and shot him right in the dick. Haibara and Megumi groaned. “Ohh, I felt that!”

Finally, an NPC called Haibara “thicker than a rock.”

Haibara froze, staring at the screen. “Did that NPC just body-shame me?”

“You’re not the one getting shot in the balls,” you said, wiping away tears from laughing. “But I think you’re thicker than a rock, too.”

And with that, your spirits were lifted, for now, by absolute stupidity and the best-worst friends ever.

After an hour, your stomach growled.

Loudly.

Oh, no.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You forgot snacks.

“I’ll be back. Need food. Muting myself.”

They acknowledged you as their characters continued galloping through the map. Megumi tied you to his horse in-game, ensuring to carry you wherever they went, while Haibara gleefully chased him with a lasso.

You looked through the door’s keyhole, and lo and behold there he was—Gojo, sitting cross-legged on the floor directly in front of it, his head tilted slightly towards the floor as if he’d been waiting for you to notice.

God, no. Why?

Why now?

Where was all this devotion before?

Now you didn’t even care. You thought to yourself, mocking them.

You inhaled sharply, and that’s when you caught it—Nanami’s cologne, faint but unmistakable. He was somewhere close too, probably lingering just out of sight.

Your shoulders tensed as you sighed, clutching your stomach like a school bag to hoist it for maximum speed because ‘aerodynamics’ or whatever Gojo used to nerd about. Not that it would help much, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The door creaked open, and before you could fully process your decision, you darted toward the kitchen.

Gojo’s head snapped up instantly, his eyes widening as he scrambled to his feet. He moved faster than you expected, his long legs closing the distance in seconds, thinking you were actually going to make a run for it.

// Bold is their POV, Both sides are oblivious to the others thoughts

Once you stopped, Nanami was already in the kitchen, his back to you, doing... god knows what. The faint clink of utensils and deliberate movements felt oddly calculated, like he was waiting for you to arrive.

He had been standing there for hours. Waiting. The same hand that now held a spoon had been trembling earlier, and he hadn’t been able to calm it. Not since he heard the faint shuffle of your feet from your room.

You ignored the tension knotting your stomach and headed for the cabinets. Your expression remained a mask of indifference, even as you frantically searched for your snacks.

The first cabinet? Empty.

The second? Also empty.

Panic crept in as you opened cabinet after cabinet, each one devoid of the comfort you were looking for. You kept your poker face on and frantically searched the entire kitchen. Everything was where it was supposed to be except for your snacks.

Had Gojo swallowed them whole? Or did they throw them all out just to spite you?

Gojo winced as he watched you open cabinet after cabinet. He wasn’t sure if the dull ache in his chest was guilt or something worse. Probably worse. It always felt worse these days.

Finally, your gaze shifted upward to the top shelves.

You tiptoed, straining to reach the handle, when Nanami stepped in behind you.

Too close.

His presence loomed like a ghost, his breath disturbingly steady as he reached over your shoulder and handed you the basket.

Your fingers grasped it, but he didn’t let go.

You yanked harder; he didn’t let go.

Nanami’s hand didn’t move. It wasn’t stubbornness. He wanted to let go. God, he wanted to let go. But something in him screamed that if he let go of this basket, he’d lose more than snacks. He’d lose the last shred of a connection he had to you.

You aggressively tried to snatch it, but he wouldn’t let go. His face remained calm, almost serene, but the way he watched you made your skin crawl.

Nanami’s calmness was a mask, one he’d perfected over the years. Beneath it, his mind was spiralling. He wasn’t looking at you. Not really. He was looking at the faint bruise on your arm from yesterday, the hollowness in your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Your patience snapped, and you let go with an inaudible huff, glaring at the floor—refusing to make any kind of eye contact with them—before turning to leave.

You would order something or get Haibara or Megumi to drop off something.

But before you could take a step, Gojo was there, blocking your path. His long arms caged you in.

Gojo had moved instinctively, holding you hostage before he even realized what he’d done.

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to maintain your poker face mixed with ‘ready for aggressive retaliation.’ Inside, though, fear clawed at your chest. Sandwiched between the two of them immediately took you back to how only yesterday they’d dragged you out of your lower cabinet in Norway.

You were acutely aware of your vulnerability—the shorts and crop top you wore felt like they offered no protection, no barrier between you and their oppressive presence. But nothing else felt comfortable enough to sleep in right now, and you certainly hadn’t planned on coming out to face them tonight.

You had reached a point in your life when the fathers of your babies terrified you.

His heart sank when he saw the flicker of panic in your eyes—the way your shoulders stiffened, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. You were scared. Of him.

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through him.

You’d carry a knife everywhere if only it would work on these two. Damn, why didn’t you marry someone your own size?!

Gojo’s gaze softened, his head tilting as if he could sense the panic you were trying to hide. You were certain you had kept your expressions in check, even as you stared at the floor.

Gojo wanted to say something, anything, to make you look at him. But the words stuck in his throat, replaced by the crushing weight of his own failure.

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to flinch, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you crack.

Nanami finally broke the standoff, his voice quiet but unnervingly calm. “Here.”

He handed you another basket—this one filled with snacks labelled “Baby Bribes” in obnoxiously cheerful colours and comic sans as if a toddler had designed it after a sugar rush. There were granola bars that looked like they’d been around for the First World War, fruit cups that seemed to be having an identity crisis, and a suspiciously large bag of pickles that had a warning label: “Caution: May Cause Uncontrollable Cravings and Sudden Urges to Call Your Ex.” It also came with a note that read: “Congratulations! You’re now the proud owner of a snack collection that’s 90% fibre and 10% sanity! Enjoy your journey into the wild world of pregnancy snacking—where every bite is a gamble and every flavour is a surprise!”

The packaging didn’t match the suffocating tension of the moment, but your stomach growled loudly, and the twins made the decision for you.

You snatched it, muttering something under your breath that neither of them caught, and bolted toward your room, lifting your stomach for speed like a getaway bag.

Their eyes followed you until the door clicked shut behind you, but their presence lingered, heavy and inescapable.

Gojo’s hands fell limply to his sides. His eyes were burning, but he didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

Nanami exhaled shakily, his grip tightening on the edge of the counter. His knuckles were white. "If I were her, I’d never forgive us," he murmured, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.

Gojo didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on your direction, his expression blank but his thoughts anything but.

They stood there long after you left, two men drowning in despair, unable to reach the one person they’d promised to protect.

What would your employees think if they knew you were lifting your stomach to run around the house, like some cursed gargoyle?

They would immediately suggest a game based on it.

This felt like a new low for someone who is supposed to be an adult, even a mother soon, hopefully.

You logged back in, unmuting and muttering, “Husbands are so useless.”

Megumi and Haibara’s laughter echoed through your headset. “Tell us something we don’t know,” Haibara quipped.

Megumi added, “At least in-game, you can lasso them into silence.”

“Or shoot them in the dick,” Haibara added solemnly.

“Don’t tempt me,” you replied, smirking.

These are some funny chapter names I thought of :D The Tragic Elegance of Comic Sans Haibara’s MI6 Resume > Your Life Choices Kento’s Stoic Crisis (Now with Extra Trauma) Satoru Gojo’s Six Eyes and Zero Brain Cells Lawyer Hiromi with zero chill NPC banter: 10/10 The Only Therapy Here is the Comments Section Overprotective idiots in love Dumbass husbands being dumbass husbands Polyamorous dumpster fire Graphic Depictions of Emotional Damage™ Poly Relationship Drama with Terrorist Husbands Crack Cocaine Writing Energy Found Family, Lost SanityPhilosophical Angst in a Comedy Wrapper

A/N: Apologies in advance for the long ass note. Okay, let’s acknowledge the obvious: I have a personal vendetta against all these characters, apparently. The moments involving Haibara, Megumi, and the reader playing the game with sheer foolishness are inspired by real life and are dedicated to my close friend Farhan, who was like Haibara in many ways IRL—only more reckless and sassier. He was an exceptionally talented VFX and motion graphics artist and contributed to numerous projects, including a ton of Marvel and DC movies. Tragically, a few years ago he passed away after an accident that initially left him unscathed. He went home and didn’t inform his family, along with his wife, who was with his family at the time, thinking they’d worry. But three days later, he experienced severe pain due to internal bleeding. He sadly passed away just hours after arriving at the hospital, only two months after getting married. Farhan is still deeply missed, and I haven’t enjoyed playing with another team since his passing. But let his story serve as a cautionary tale: don’t take life too casually. And please, don’t feel sad for him—he wouldn’t want that. He was a true menace in the best way possible, so remember him like that. Bonus points if you can guess the game they’re playing! And, I know no one can alone carry a 65-inch TV because it's too fucking wide; trust me, I know. I have it. But in Daddy Hiromi, we thurst! More bonus points for more unhinged suggestions in the comments. And those who suggested ideas and voted on the last poll will get their reader service in the next chapter. Euh, why did that sound so gross.

Next Chapter 13 (alt ending 2.4) - Burn the Mother of Three (Tumblr/Ao3)

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[merakiui]

hi, i was checking your twst yandere tag and

idia thoughts? :3

I love Idia. The STYX bgm is a banger. Ignihyde's entire aesthetic is amazing. Book 6 is so scrumptious. OTL I could go on and on.

Whenever I think about yan Idia, I automatically default to STYX Idia thoughts only because I crave an Idia who is a little crazy beneath the awkwardly sweet, endearingly shy otaku who stalks you through the cameras and is too nervous to interact irl. Those parts are wonderful of course, but I just know the guy who rebuilt his dead brother (obviously it's not as simple as that and there's so much more grief and trauma intertwined with those actions),,, but the fact still stands that he built the first technomantic humanoid Twisted Wonderland has ever seen....... HE'S CRAZY SMART!!!! And you can't tell me he wouldn't perform other potentially morally and ethically dubious things in an effort to satisfy grotesque curiosity or some other delusion.... ethics at STYX only go so far until Idia-sama is in charge and as Acting Director everyone else must listen to him. I know he hates his job and doesn't want to inherit it, but ooooooo he's so fine in the STYX uniform.

And also,,, with how his parents are I think they're probably going to ignore the very obvious obsession in the room because as long as Idy is happy it doesn't really matter (and you'll be taken care of and cherished so wonderfully). >w< Mama Shroud saw his files when she logged into his computer in book seven and ever since then she just wants her boy to be happy and in love. Maybe it's even a surprise Idia found someone...... Idia and his father are so similar, so maybe it's a case of both of them being shocked the other found a lover. T_T but now he has a 3D beloved and Mama Shroud couldn't be any happier. I have so many thoughts on the dynamics........

AND HIS PARALLELS WITH ROLLO?!?!?!? Insane....... the way they both grieved entirely differently but could understand all of the feelings that come with mourning. And how they chose to act on that. The anger and the unfairness. Anger at the world, at themselves, at those around them. The self-blame and self-hatred. The burdens of mourning all alone and feeling like no one else can help or did help and that no one can truly understand or sympathize.......... I'm just rambling about everything Idia now... the thoughts are everywhere!!!!!

I just think there's so much potential with Idia who is as smart as he is. He is genuinely so efficient and if he wanted to build something that would make it easier to stalk you or to keep you with him or some other wild yan concept he absolutely would and it would be finished within the day. He's so cool........ orz the power he has...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello hello! Long time follower!

I really like reading all your translations, theories and fanfics! It's really great to be able to read your thoughts about characters and cards because am a f2p so I have a very limited stash of gems to pull lol

So I was thinking about the rrcent jp update and I went back to read some of your work on Scarabia. I'll admit they weren't amongst my favorites before so I haven't paid too much attention to them. I was wondering then about the couple times you've said Jamil is well off? Maybe it's from one of his SSR cards of his home event, but I can't remember where he or maybe Kalim implies that?

That's it, just a silly question thanks so much for all that you do, I love so much all your theories and thoughts about the lore and the cast! Have a good day!

Hdsbskwhsk I’m glad that my blog brings you joy and makes your free to play experience more fun 🤩 Thanks for sticking with me all this time!

As for your question, I’m not actually sure if there's dialogue which explicitly states the Viper family's level of wealth. I couldn't find any when I combed through, so I had to go off of implications and my own interpretations of those. From what I’ve gathered, I see the Vipers as upper middle class, or at least middle class with a LOT of benefits (the benefits being present boost them to upper middle class due to the lifestyle the benefits afford them).

So firstly, I think there's a lot of debate surrounding Jamil's family income. Some fans seem to think that the Vipers must be destitute due to their position as servants and Jamil's disdain for how the Asims throw around their money and influence. However, perceived social status or class does NOT always equate to being low income. There are people irl who are technically "servants" and "hired help" that make a significant salary while working for much wealthier individuals. There is data for bodyguards, private chefs, executive assistants, and skilled nannies who earn six-figure incomes and/or excellent benefits working for celebrities, politicians, businessmen, etc. (Notably, guarding, cooking, scheduling/planning, and generally looking after Kalim are all a part of Jamil's duties.) Real world examples of this include employees of the White House and the British royal family.

Now, that all depends a lot on the type of people the employers are. There are many wealthy families who mistreat their staff and/or don't pay them well. From what I've seen of the Asims though, I definitely feel that this is not the case. To begin with, the Vipers don't just do one task for the Asims, they do a LOT. You're already aware of the constant work Jamil has to do around the clock to keep Kalim safe and satisfied, but his parents must do the same. They're described as experts in hospitality and are frequently hosting and entertaining guests from all over Twisted Wonderland. This is skilled labor, and that demands commiserate pay. Not only that, but Kalim describes his father as someone who is very generous (and the guy has plenty of money to spare). I don’t see why Mr. Asim would purposefully skimp on specifically paying the Vipers.

I would also imagine that the Vipers are afforded other benefits. Jamil has said many times that he has to look or act a certain way, as his behavior/appearance reflects on the family he serves. Therefore, the Asims may provide other things Jamil and the Vipers need to “look good” and to best represent and serve the Asims. This could mean food, clothes, transportation/travel expenses, education (like additional training, manners lessons, certification exams, etc.) all paid for on the Asim family’s coin. Jamil has mentioned that his parents gave him lessons in everything he’d need to know in order to serve Kalim, so this tells his parents are also well-educated and/or were at least able to pay for lessons for Jamil. And these lessons aren’t “normal” lessons either, it includes things like formal bodyguard training (you’d have to pay for this irl) and formal table manners (which most of us aren’t taught unless we seek it out).

We also recently learned in book 7 that the Vipers live on Asim property, which is very luxurious. Jamil states that his family would be on the streets should they lose their place serving the Asims—and this could be interpreted in a very literal sense if we think of as losing the roof over their heads. Yes, it's technically not land or housing that the Vipers own, but it is still free high-class lodging, nonetheless. It is a benefit that is afford to them (among others) because of their job(s), similar to those real life examples I mentioned before. One could make the argument that none of this wealth truly belongs to the Vipers. However, you could also argue that because these benefits come with the job, it technically is theirs as long as they keep their job (which is, in fact, how jobs irl work; if you stop working for an employer then naturally you’ll stop getting the benefits that come with that job eventually). It’s complicated. I suspect that, at the very least, part of the reason why the Vipers don’t want to depart from serving the Asims is because they don’t want to lose the pay and the perks that come with their work.

I want to add that the Vipers’ position also gives them the unique advantage of exposing them to tons of important individuals. They are able to meet and connect with these VIPs when most people could never even dream of meeting them, even if just from the viewpoint of a servant. It’s a similar to Lilia and Silver, who technically are not rich (money-wise) but still have ties with majorly influential people (members of the Draconia royal family).

Obviously, the Vipers still aren’t as rich as the Asims and probably will never be, but I believe they still enjoy a comfortable lifestyle. We never see Jamil worry about money or being short of it. He gives his VDC/SDC earnings away without batting an eye, unlike Deuce (from a single-parent income family) who keeps the money since it would really help out his mom. He doesn’t have to work a ton of odd jobs to make ends meet (unlike Ruggie). But Jamil does haggle and act frugal. I think that behavior comes from not a genuine need but Jamil being mindful and planning ahead to avoid being scammed. He’s shown to be a cautious individual who often is the one putting the breaks on Kalim’s extravagance, so I feel the skill also comes partly from having to be the one to curb his ridiculous spending and bring Kalim down to earth. Jamil is still the type of person who would tell Kalim when he’s buying too much or overdoing things, even when it’s not Jamil’s own money being spent and he knows Kalim can afford it. That’s what leads me to believe his frugalness isn’t necessarily the result of him being low income and “needing” to save. If that were the case, he shouldn’t care if Kalim throws his own money at buying diamond jewelry for all the dorm members as souvenirs.

I think the closest metric we have as a frame of reference for how wealthy Jamil is comes from the Tapis Rouge event. In it, Jamil forks out 500 thaumarks (or 50000 madol) to buy a jacket. He remarks that the price is fairly expensive but good quality so it’s worth it. Whether you consider this an indicator of his low or high wealth is really all relative to what your own perception is. Jamil had also previously remarked that what the Mostro Lounge charges is absurd. In Ruggie’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Azul quotes the price of one soft drink as 4 thaumarks/400 madol. Jamil responds with “Four? Talk about a markup.” It should be noted that the latter example doesn’t mean Jamil cannot afford a drink of that price; he’s complaining about how expensive Azul has made it to capitalize on the high demand. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Anyway, those are my thoughts! I hope I was able to explain myself well. If you have any thoughts, please feel free to express them ^^

[honeybeetlejuice]

Alien Stage is clearly a metaphor for the entertainment industry (especially the idoling industry), so let's talk about it. Because I feel as if that is overshadowed in the fandom.

(A post by not only a massive alien stage fan, but a newer child actress.)

TW: SA, CHILD EXPLOITATION, TALK OF BEAUTY STANDARDS & DIET CULTURE

I've heard people talk about Alien Stage being a metaphor for the idoling industry, but no one really goes in depth that I've seen. I also have a bit of experience and have done tons of research on the entertainment industry for my own career as an actress (who's currently looking for their first acting job. No, this isn't to try to be scouted, it's just to clarify i am not super experienced-)

So here's everything I could find that parallels. I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors, my cat is laying on my arm right now and will not move-

The treatment of the contestants by aliens in alien stage, resembles the way people treat idols in media in our reality. People fan and obsess over their stage personas, yet behind closed doors they are horribly mistreated and abused.

Trauma and tragedy is exploited. In real life, talent shows and the like will make contestants use something bad that's happened to them to gain sympathy points from the audience. In Alien Stage, do I genuinely even need to explain? That show is a massive amount of tragedy, and Mizisua was almost definitely put together in round one for a reason -- to play with the aliens' feelings.

The way aliens exploit pet humans for fame and use them, is similar to the way parents/guardians exploit their children as child actresses. Children are trained from a young age to fit this standard and be entertainment for us.

SA is extremely common in the entertainment industry. Tons of people in the industry, especially producers and directors, end up being fucking creeps who sexually abuse the people they work with. I can name a plentitude of cases. I am not a victim of this myself so I cannot speak for victims, but it is something that absolutely happens. And in Alien Stage, Luka and Till (I've also heard Ivan?) have both been implied to be sexually abused, meaning it's probably not uncommon in that world either.

Insane beauty standards. IRL as an actor, you are fatshamed, every part of your body and appearance is nitpicked, you absolutely have to fit a beauty standard. Many people are extremely insecure, plastic surgery is common too. Not to mention, diet culture runs fucking rampant. People often are put through insane and risky diets. This is especially bad in the idoling industry. Then in Alien Stage, you can probably take note of multiple characters, but I'm going to focus on Luka for this point. Luka's eating habits are canonically strictly managed, and he isn't allowed to eat much. Not to mention, Luka, and likely other characters were literally fucking BRED FOR THIS?? Like its implied they quite literally kept making him again and again until they found one that fit their standard, resulting in all his issues as well.

Dare I say no privacy. The humans in alien stage are quite literally watched by aliens 24/7, allowed no freedom or privacy. In real life, maybe it isn't exactly this for actors, but people dig into their personal lives and allow them no privacy. People doxx information and stalk actors, to the point where there's been cases of people having to move houses because of crazy fans. When people ask to stay out the spotlight, people find them anyways.

May be forgetting some stuff, but my point is that Alien Stage is a metaphor for the entertainment industry, especially the idol industry. We are the real life aliens, if you think about it.

I honestly wish people talked about it more. It's so important to the show yet I feel like it's overshadowed by the romance aspects. That or it's a lack of media literacy. I'm honestly unsure.

[ann7av]

Idk about you but an issue I have with IF is that Violet doesn’t really think that hard about any criticism directed at her family.

Cat asks if Violet wants to talk about the heinous atrocities her family committed after Vi accuses her of being a shallow Pick Me, but this is never really explored. She posts a list of every flier Mira killed and it’s mentioned in such an offhand flippant way, it makes me wonder if Violet actually cares about her sister being a war criminal. I was hoping she’d have a talk with Brennan about his feelings on being “sacrificed” for basically nothing because it’s a sentiment I’ve seen some veterans express irl but they never actually talk on screen and it’s so frustrating.

What are your thoughts on this?

Oh my friend I'm so happy you asked because I have a lot to say about this.

(This is a list of scattered thoughts, please let me know if it makes sense and please know this is a critique of RY's writing and not Violet's moral compass as a character, I love my girl very much)

I had this issue from way back in FW when Lilith pushed Violet into the riders, It would be natural for a child to try and understand why their parent suddenly decided to risk their life in a war college but alas she never thinks about it and we are left with this gigantic "this makes no sense" feeling that progressively gets worse as the story goes.

Then there's rain when she crosses Parapet and yet... no thought on it, Vi? Your mother controls storms? Why aren't you thinking about this?

Lilith asking about her father's research while Aetos asks if Andarna could be used as a study subject and Vi doesn't stop to think WHY would they need it and HOW does it fit with her mother's previous actions?

The GODDAM NOTE inside the book of fables? That later on is revealed to be true? Brennan says he doesn't believe their father knew about Navarre's corruption and Violet never thinks about it or considers it? HOW?

My girl just found out her mother executed a bunch of people who were trying to help another kingdom and she doesn't feel conflicted about it? I was waiting for them to have a screaming match after Athebyne

Cat puts up a list of the fliers Mira killed and I was expecting a line like "It's not like my sister knew she was fighting for the wrong side at the time, she was doing what she was trained to do" but NO.

What also throws me off about this is that, up until this point, Violet is shown being a very empathetic person who really cares about people in general, but she doesn't stop to consider those were Cat's people who died, it was the flier's school that fell and it is their kingdom being attacked (maybe she got desensitized but that feels an easy way out of developing the story)

I could be happy with Violet trying to justify her family's actions to herself because at least it would feel like a natural reaction to have but you're right, the lack of reaction feels like she doesn't care.

She also never stops to have an actual conversation with Mira about any of this for some reason (she barely talks to her sister at all actually), and besides that one talk with Brennan at the beginning of IF there's nothing else that stands out enough for me to remember, which wouldn't be a problem if she had some inner dialogue every now and then, not only about her family and the war crimes but how she feels bout them too.

There are many times when we (the readers) ask questions to try and understand these characters and how they interact with each other, so when those very natural questions like "how do you feel about this?" or "but why would they do that?" are not answered, the entire thing just feels off, and that's not an issue only with the Sorrengails but with most of Violet's relationships.

In FW that's not as big a problem, she has her issues with Dain and is getting to know her squad (Liam specifically) but in IF I was questioning if Xaden dying was that bad of a thing if it meant she would think about literally anything else

To summarize: Violet's family drama could've been a Keeping Up with the Sorrengails level of drama if RY actually did the work to flesh out the dynamic but she didn't bother and chose to rewrite the same Xaden/Violet argument five times

[daydream-cement]

Dinner Mix-Up

Larissa Weems x Reader

This is a super special birthday story for my wifey @funky--lesbian. She was the one who gave me the idea and I'm simply writing it out for her. It was so wonderful meeting you IRL Tuesday <3

She had been insanely busy. So busy that she was coming home late in the evenings, long after you retired to bed. In the mornings, she left before you woke, needing to get into the office before she had any students cause trouble during the moments she slept. You could tell Larissa was running herself into the ground.

With the arrival of the Addams’ girl and her family, not to mention the beast on the loose, Larissa was at wit's end with the school year. Time and time again, you tried reminding yourself that this semester was one of the worst the headmistress had ever seen, but you couldn’t help but feel forgotten about, in a way. She was always so tired and completely unwilling to share the burden with you, making it nearly impossible to support your girlfriend. 

Two days prior, you waited up for her, watching her trudge into the bedroom, strip herself of her clothes, and crawl into bed. Sleepily, you gather her into your arms and gently dance around your feelings as you pull the pins from her hair, “I missed you so much today, darling. I wondered if you would like to go on a date with me on Friday?” 

“Mhmm... I would love that. I miss you.” Larissa hummed, happy to have her hair loosened and her face buried into your chest. 

“How about that sweet little Italian restaurant that just opened in Burlington?” You scooch yourself down in bed, keeping your arm around her. The two of you had been dating for years, Larissa always keeping you level-headed while you helped her find peace on her craziest of days. 

You could tell she was on the verge of sleep from how her breathing began to slow just a bit, her grip around you loosening a tad, “Mmokay, darling... I’ll call tomorrow for reservations...” 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you too...” She mumbled back, nuzzling her face into you before going still. You knew it would be just a few moments before she was sleeping, which made you smile in the fact that she was at peace. Even this short conversation was making you feel closer to Larissa, settling many of your worries about the two of you growing apart.

Well, that was until you got to the restaurant and waited... and waited... and waited. 

You sat in the restaurant like a fool for over an hour. Larissa hadn’t even bothered to call or respond to any of your attempts at communication. 

At first, you drove home fuming, ready to give Larissa Weems a piece of your mind upon returning home, but when you entered and Larissa was nowhere to be found, you broke down. You couldn’t help yourself when you curled up on the couch and wept as Larissa had absolutely broken your heart. 

Was a relationship just too much for Larissa right now? Perhaps Larissa was reminded of her old feelings for her roommate with Parents Weekend two weekends ago? Or maybe she didn’t really mean it when she said she loved you? There was always the chance she was saying it out of habit and it had lost all meaning to her. 

All of your ruminating had you spiraling. Your whole body shook from the sobs and the decorative pillow on the couch was soaked with your tears. How could you and Larissa have fallen this far? You would do anything to make her love you as she once had. 

The front door opened with a jolt, Larissa slamming it behind herself when she saw your form sitting on the couch. With her deep rapid breaths and the way her eyes narrowed in on you, she was in an absolute rage, “Where were you?!”

“Where was I?! Where have you been? What is wrong with me?” You began to verbalize your spiraling, shouting straight back at your girlfriend, deeply conflicted by your feelings of anger and sadness, “I just don’t know what I can do to make you love me! I can- I can be different. I can change. What do you want from me? Do you want me to be more like Morticia? I’ll do whatever you want... Please... I love you...”

“Nothing is wrong with you! I just waited like a fool for hours and you didn’t show up!” Larissa circled the couch and dropped onto the cushion next to you, ready to argue. Her brows furrow at the mention of Morticia’s name, the sight of you weeping so openly bringing tears to the woman’s eyes, “I don’t know why you even mention her! I love you, not her.”

“What do you mean I didn’t show up? You didn’t show up!”

“I was sitting there at a beautiful, romantic, candlelit dinner waiting for you! You are the one who bothered not to show!”

“Candle-lit? The place isn’t that fancy! Don’t pretend you were there!”

“It’s a five-star restaurant! What do you mean it isn’t fancy?” Larissa’s tears were fading into a cry-laugh, her anger fading into an amused confusion. She reached into her coat pocket, pulling a handkerchief to dab at your tears. 

You spoke with a slight shake to your voice, “We went to different restaurants... Didn’t we?” Her soft laughter began to make you laugh, coming to realize that you had been at different restaurants, standing one another up while being stood up. Larissa’s beautiful hand reaching out, coming to grasp your face.

You dove forwards, wrapping your arms around Larissa’s middle, and felt her arms hold you tight. Her tone was thick with regret, “I think we did.” 

“I’m sorry, Riss...” You mumbled into her neck, the floodgates had opened and all of your emotions were ready to come pouring out. There was so much you had kept from Larissa during the previous months and now you were ready to divulge it all with her. 

“Honey, it was just one big misunderstanding...” Your girlfriend attempted to soothe you once more, hand to the back of your head as she cooed to you, worried you still felt guilt for the switch-up. 

Gripping her a little tighter, you crawled into Larissa’s lap, spilling your heart to the woman before you in hopes she could come to understand all that you had been feeling, “No... I’m sorry that life has just been so much recently. I’m sorry you are overworked and that I can’t do anything to help you.”

“Darling...” Larissa gathered your face in her hands, thumbs stroking your cheeks, “You keep me sane. Coming home to you each night... Just seeing you in bed waiting for me is... everything. From all of this, the one thing I’ve realized is how I can’t live without you.”

Her words were an incredible comfort to hear as you returned the sentiment, “I can’t live without you. I love you so much, Larissa.” You turned your face into her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm, your eyes not leaving hers. 

The headmistress chuckled, shaking her head as you hadn’t quite understood where she was going with her thoughts. Her hands on your face dropped, one coming to grasp your hand while the other reached into her jacket pocket, her gaze was more intense this time, “No... Darling... I truly cannot live without you.” 

You finally understood when your eyes gazed down and saw the small box at Larissa’s fingertips. The beating of your own heart became rapid as you could hardly comprehend what was happening in this moment. After all of this, all of the pain and heartache you put yourself through, your girlfriend, your love, your everything wanted to marry you. 

“Rissa...?” You questioned, still not able to fully understand how she could be proposing after all of this. 

“Marry me... Please. I can’t live without you.” Larissa wasn't quite asking as much as she was pleading with you. She needed to know you would be by her side always. To be her peace and bring her sanity in the darkest times of her job. 

You must have confused the woman as you shook your head ‘no’ out of pure disbelief, but your words quickly countered your actions, “Yes, yes, a million times yes.” Rather than put the ring on your finger, you dove into Larissa’s arms, tackling her to the couch and pressing a deep, loving kiss to her lips. 

Tonight had been a rollercoaster, but you knew Larissa had been your rock and now she would be until death do you part. 

[madfantasy]

New 3 things that happened:

*I got my new ID, my id expired and to renew it I had to get photographed, and since I just opened my bank account a year ago it depends on it so already I was giving up on the idea to keep the account but by miracle a photographer agreed to picture us at home, and it turned to us cuz I wanted all my sibs to have theirs taken with me too and because I had to argue first time to get my ID forever, so i didn't have the energy to keep doing it for the rest of my sibs so now it was the chance. The day of the photographer coming I was shaking with fear and I thought I would never leave the bathroom gotten ill. I fear seeing people more than dyin so I don't know how I held it together, I literally don't remember how it went or how I did, but I recall my sibs looking the same as I felt but it was finally done. parents too taken their shoots and because one needed their passport renewed to renew their id, them alone costing 1k$ and the appointment was set 6 months ahead, we R now close to it anyway, and the thought of how we have to pay to exist some more costly made me think of my worthlessness and helplessness even more, making me ashamed of still living.

The thing that blinded me, me the first to be tested on lo

*my eye is better, I still see a dark spot looking in a certain direction, getting an eye mask surprisingly helped keeping my eyes less dry cuz they be the most when I wake up and I had the driest time before it got infected and swelled, and already I'm used to the spot and can ignore it..

*I'm still drawing, literally it's making me live love and laugh, I don't care about improving or drawing my best constantly, ai can get poisoned for all I care as it continues to dehumanise the whole point of art-- keeping humanity alive ( btw use glazing ❤️🖤)

I realised that I don't have any physical collection of my art & since I can't look at the screens forever just to browse, nd printing all my stuff isn't feasible, then I came across those mini albums Nd I got the idea to just print one sheet = 9 pics! They look good too for trashy quality, I love it 8' and yes, purple and silver is the 10% obsession to my 90% red and black pallets, thanks to remembering Freeza c'x

But as usual posting my drawings never cease to eat me alive with anxiety, but I think I'm slowly becoming indifferent to it, even if the thought of that no one actually sees my art but me, which is the main case cuz I am living in isolation and being drawing in secret till few recent years because of my conservative surroundings, I feel much calmer when I'm not seen and maybe it's self destructive in a way cuz to stay posting I need to be commissioned cuz net bill, but it became irrelevant cuz I accepted that i can't have the mental capacity to be a social media person or chase anything that I already knew I can't maintain, I had an art block for a year I almost believed that was it for my art drive and me cuz it my sanity— cuz burning out so bad. If my post has a description it was in my drafts for months cuz I plan for every piece I share, but if can't form words I allow myself to let it be captionless, I draw faster than I form words and that's why art is important to me on a personal level, it's my first way of express even if its indirect, the only bit of human Mani left to live in me to put through lines and paint splodges. Even if no one sees it, and to be honest with myself, have very weak chances of being seen on a level that benefits me financially, I'm on the other side of the world, never seen the sky beyond my schooling days, nonverbal irl and know that I can get taken advantage of easily in social manner because it either I don't get the social cues or can't say no..

I'm grateful that at least I got the chance to experience being in a loving nurturing fandom like Sev's that made me experience genuine human goodness and care I never thought possible, made me have some self worth, personality beyond a made for marriage caretaker, and allowed me to get art tools and clothing that I was never allowed or could afford, and many first time small life pleasures like perfumes, food and toys, even if I only recognise 5 or 10 of you dears now, by DP liking my posts- (I suck at remembering names sorry)

I'm also grateful to have a room after endless years of couch and house movings, I have a safe space to still be able to draw and be cool under an AC in this 50° weather..

I think realistically that's the best it can get having spent all my life trying to get anywhere but isolated, and nothing working. At least I'm indifferent and fine of being the caretaker of my disabled guardians and siblings, I need them as much as they need me, even if it caused me the same cycle of mental anguish and earth leavings hehe

Wish U all the ease and peace and yummy peas 🫶🏽

4 am, sleep deprived

[damnflirtyape]

CONCEPT I HOPE IS EXPLORED‼️ ape hybrids, like maybe an orangutan/chimp hybrid (ignoring that irl that one would be impossible but lets pretend like in the pota verse it is lmao) or at the very least a bonobo/chimp hybrid? And would mixed couples be viewed differently?? Would they be neutral or react negatively to the idea of it 🤔

IM SO SORRY FOR THE SUPER LATE REPLY!! I got really into looking into hybrids after this and then completely forgot to answer I am so sorry!!

Honestly even if it isn't possible for some of the apes, I would love to see the concept explored. In real life we have different species of orangutan and different gibbon species who've had hybrid offspring, and chimps/bonobos of course! If they wanted to go for a more realistic depiction there's definitely hybrid children that could exist (I'm super curious about gibbon hybrids, because all gibbons have pretty distinctive calls depending on species and I wonder if hybrid offspring would naturally develop a call or mimic their parents).

But on more fictional hybrids! I would love to see how they'd be viewed in a group. I wonder how common outside of Caesar's group it is to see different ape species living together? I wonder how a different species courtship would look, we haven't *officially* seen a romantic pair with two different types of ape as far as I'm aware? (although I definitely headcanon that these two are together!! Maybe they adopted, maybe they're poly, either way I support them!)

I feel it might depend on the group how they'd be viewed. Like I feel in Caesar's group where a large ethos of the village/troop is based on togetherness and all apes being family and equal, that mixed couples would hopefully be regarded positively? They'd probably still be uncommon, but I'd like to think they'd be welcomed.

But I do wonder if there would be clashes about parenting styles! I wonder if a bonobo or chimp parent might be annoyed about an orangutan partner who is reluctant to let their baby be more independent. I wonder if there would be disagreements between a mother gorilla who expects her orangutan mate to play with their baby but he's not a silverback and doesn't want to be all that hands-on. There's so many similarities in how apes raise their babies but there's also a bunch of differences too!

And then I wonder how hybrids and mixed pairings would be viewed in places where villages and troops are maybe only one or two species of ape? Such as in Kingdom where the Eagle Clan is essentially all chimps, and even in Proximus' Kingdom where it seems to be predominantly chimps. Would mixed pairings be treated as a taboo or stigmatised?

Honestly I would love to see the concept explored and also I really kinda want to see what the hybrid children would look like, even if they couldn't exist irl. Apes can't talk irl or ride horses into battle, maybe we can have some hybrids, as a treat?

[siriustaylorsversion]

Hi!

I love your writing and just wanted to request a sadie sink x reader where they both are starring in stranger things. It can be both in social media and irl.

Thank you!!!

daylight

thank you!! i wasn't sure if you wanted it to be just social media separately so i made it a mix of both... i am so in love with sadie sink it's not a joke.

face claim: gacie abrams warnings: language based on the song daylight by taylor swift!

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in Everyone looked worse in the light There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

I never thought that one day would turn my life over this much. I went from just a high school kid to an actress in strangers things along with some of my best friends and as cheesy as this sounds... my heart. Sadie and I had been best friends for two years (while I had the biggest crush on her, mind you) before one drunken night I kissed her out of the blue... imagine my surprise when she kissed me back...

I was on cloud nine. It felt like a dream. Hell, it still does! Every time she looks at me with those gorgeous blue eyes gives me that smile, talks to me with her intoxicating voice, and every goddamn time she touches me, I lose it. And... so do the fans.

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

yourname.official

yourname.official happy two years @sadesink!!! i am so so lucky to have you by my side. you are my rock, my best friend, and my soulmate and i am grateful for all the highs and lows and for every single moment i've spent with you. thank you for your unwavering support, your infectious laughter, and your unconditional love. you are the reason I wake up each day with a smile on my face, and the thought of spending my life with you fills me with joy. happy anniversary, my love. Here's to many more years of love, laughter, and happiness. liked by sadiesink, taylorswift and 3,09,800 others.

sadiesink You really brought tears in my eyes. I love you so so much. Thank you for... everything 🥺💕

forever.more OMFG MY PARENTS 🥺 fearstrx you're both so gorgeous!!!! y/nsinks this duo is the only reason i believe in love anymore 😔 yourname.forevermore I LOVE THIS. I LOVE YOU BOTH. I'VE FINALLY STARTED LOVING LIFE.

milliebobbybrown 💘🥺

taylornation you guys!!! 💓

yourname.forevermore SCREAMING.CRYING.THROWINGUP.

Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky And so I became the butt of the joke I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down Maybe I've stormed out of every single room in this town Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now It's brighter now, now

-flashback-

"You what?!" I asked furrowing my brows feeling a mixture of anger and confusion. "I revealed that we're dating on the jimmy fallon show..." she said with uncertainty in her eyes. "I heard what you said.. but why?" I asked. "Do you not want anyone to know-" "No, of course, I do but, are you sure that YOU want to be seen with me?" She walked up and gave me a hug from behind which she knows always calms me down... "There's nothing I'd want more," she said almost in tears. "I'm- don't cry, Sades" I mutter with my eyes closed. "Sadie... I care about you so so much but you realize both our managing teams said that it's best not to reveal this, right?!" "You think I care, I don't want to hear any of their remarks but the thing that I want most is to be with you!" she hugged me from behind, knowing my weakness. "Of course, I want that too. I just want what's most beneficial for you..." I said. "Well, staying with you has many many benefits" she whispered laughing into the crook of my neck. "Oh my, ms. Sink, you've managed to convince me" I finally break into a smile and pull her in front of me.

And I can still see it all (In my mind) All of you, all of me (Intertwined) I once believed love would be (Black and white) But it's golden (Golden) And I can still see it all (In my head) Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed) I once believed love would be (Burning red) But it's golden Like daylight, like daylight Like daylight, daylight

We had finished our press release and were walking to a pub with the whole cast. Sadie looked like a goddess. No joke, she looked better than Aphrodite herself and I had just zoned out thinking about how goddamn lucky I was. Of course, being the darling she is, she noticed this and gave me a playful nudge... "I'm so fucking lucky to have you in my life, Sadie Sink" I look her in the eyes and voice my thoughts. "Yes, you are now don't get all sappy on me," She says while squeezing my hands three times. This woman right here? I'm gonna marry her. I decided that right then and there. The light that she's gotten in my world.. she's the literal definition of sunshine in my eyes. She's my daylight. She is my everything I realize watching her with pride shining in my eyes.

Like daylight It's golden like daylight You gotta step into the daylight and let it go Just let it go, let it go

-flashback-

It was terrifying, our 5-month anniversary... I had rehearsed many many scripts before but now my head fails me as I am in front of the love of my life finally wanting to admit it that I loved her...

We paused in front of our favorite bakery and got our favorite croissants. Sitting on the bench I let my panic take over... "Okay I need to tell you something but I need you to stay quiet," She said to me. "Thank you for being here with me for so long and I am so so grateful for you. You're the most perfect girl I've ever seen and" "Okay..." I managed to speak out but all I saw was black and white as I anticipated the words "but we should see other people".

"I-" she stayed quiet for the longest thirteen seconds of my life and then she said, "it's been occurring to me that I'd like to hang out with you for my whole life." It was our thing... when we couldn't express our feelings fully with words, we started using lyrics.

I wanna be defined by the things that I love Not the things I hate Not the things that I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night I, I just think that You are what you love

"I love you, y/n y/l/n" she said looking up at me with hopeful eyes. "Well, damn you beat me to it. And with Taylor swift lyrics, how original!" I talked back. "Shut up you scared me there" she laughed out.

"I’ve never been so into somebody before and every time we both touch I only want more. I love you more, Sadie Sink" I say

"Not possible!" She says and just as I am about to counter her, she kisses me to shut me up. Yes... the best day ever.

[jolynesmom]

if it’s okay with you, tell us about your tokyo revengers DR. i’d love to know how you relate to that world, your background story (if that’s okay), and whether you’re part of any gang 🙂🗣

hii, yes omg I would love to talk about it thank you for the request!!

while I really like this dr, it’s definitely one of my more lackluster and simple drs. I usually write more complex backstories for my drs, but for this one I kept it simple for a few reasons + I actually haven’t seen the last season, but I plan on doing it soon and update my script

so basically before baji met the others and formed toman, I moved into his apartment building with my family and our moms became friends instantly because of a common interest and they forced me and baji to become friends too. we hated each other at first because of our literal opposite personalities but after some time we became inseparable. this dr follows the ‘canon’ story from the anime just like the majority of my drs because I just like it the best (well it somehow follows it because I scripted a bunch of deaths and situations out)

so after some time we befriend mikey, all 3 of us start going to his grandpa’s dojo together and after some time we befriend the others and form toman while we’re in our last year of middle school. I aged everyone up because I preferred it this way plus would make more sense irl, so at the moment everyone in toman is finishing up highschool or maybe even in uni (I scripted uni is chill because I couldn’t be bothered to care about studying 😭)

my position in toman is acting vice president because I don’t really like to lead or give orders, but can do it if absolutely necessary when draken and/or mikey are not available for some reason

one very small difference I added in this dr is related to my s/o. I usually don’t script partners because it’s either not on my mind or I’m just curious to see who’d be into me without scripting, but here I added han from stray kids as my s/o because recently he’s really had my attention and I don’t know why, but I just feel like he fits in the tokyo revengers verse/a gang, especially when you think how he used to act predebut 😭

so he’s part of a notorious enemy gang to toman (I didn’t script much about this gang, but honestly I might add some more stuff) and after this enemy gang is brutally defeated by toman they’re going to disband and han will seek me out to join us and yeah

a lot of the time I like to connect my drs with things that happened in this reality to overcome there what I couldn’t do here, and this includes my tokyo revengers dr as well. here I grew up very sheltered and I would always be punished or humiliated by my family if I ever tried to rebel because of their positions in the society I grew up in. in my dr they hold important positions as well (dad is a police officer and mom is a nurse) and me being in a gang without their knowledge is my way of revenge (no pun intended) for both realities. I hate being constrained, and being in a gang, especially as a girl, is my way of saying ‘fuck you’ to my family (and honestly the society I grew up in) for keeping me in chains. I know they only wanted the best for me but it really messed me up as I grew up

also growing up I never had male friends, let alone best friends, because my parents didn’t like me hanging out around guys, so I think my best friend being a guy and having mostly guys as friends is going to be a nice change for me, so yeah that’s definitely another thing I’m excited about

another thing I love about this dr for is how it’s set in the early 2000s. I’ve seen a lot of people (esp on tiktok) complain about places they want to shift to being set in the 90s or 00s because they don’t have access to the internet and tiktok and blah blah blah!! y’all are boring!! the 2000s were literally superior in so many ways. I miss so much the vibe from back then and the technology like the funny phones or when the internet just became a thing and people used yahoo and hi5 to talk to each other; it was so great how people were more connected back then and that’s one of the main things I look forward to;

like it’s going to be so fun how the guys will need to come get my ass personally for a meeting because phones back then had a limit on how much you can call and text, so it was preferred to talk in person unless absolutely necessary 😭

most relationships feel so shallow here, so I’m genuinely excited to go hang out with my friends and talk about everything and nothing instead of everyone playing on their phones; I also scripted yahoo and hi5 are the most used social platforms in japan because those were sooo fun to be on

I hope you found my answer interesting!! <3

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

do you have any specific theory regarding kunikida’s backstory? i honestly never thought about how he might have met fukuzawa when he was much younger, always assumed it happened after he dropped out of uni, but this makes much more sense tbh. i’m huge on the idea of him coming from a military family (would explain how he could’ve met fukuzawa and why on earth he knows how to operate every fire arm in existence)

I have so many ideas about Kunikida! The idea of him coming from a military family is definitely interesting - it fits with the author irl and would explain a lot of his mannerisms. I'm partial to him having an estranged relationship with his family in general, because it's mentioned in Kunikida and Katai's Magnificent Days that eventually Kunikida grew to spend more time around Katai than he did his family, and because most of the ADA don't really seem to have family outside each other. No one they worry about being pulled into things when they're accused of terrorism or targeted by the Port Mafia back when they were still antagonists, etc. With Ranpo, Atsushi, and Kyouka we know their parents are dead; with Yosano, Dazai, the Tanizakis and Kenji we know that even if they're not dead they're not really involved in their kids lives enough to matter much at all. I'm inclined to think Kunikida's are similar; we know they exist, but I don't think he has a good relationship with them, if they're still alive (they could have died after he met Katai).

In terms of his past, I definitely think Kunikida had a violent past. Man is way too down with casually throttling people - between that and his extensive knowledge of weapons, as well as how good he is hand to hand combat wise, it makes me think he must have had a tumulus past.

I saw a fanfiction once where he was a child solider in the Great War alongside Yosano, making weapons for the army - while I don't think it's canon, or else it probably would have been mentioned when her backstory was, I think the idea of Kunikida being somehow trained as a child solider definitely has merit. Given how people with Abilities tend to be weaponized in the BSD-verse, how strict Kunikida is despite having a hatred of authority and a tendency to violence, it makes sense to me. It's canon he dropped out of college, but he was also working with the Agency by age 18/19 at a maximum, so I think it's possible he joined college while working there and dropped out.

Another option is him having been in some sort of high school gang. Blonde hair in anime is often used to denote delinquency - so I think it's a given Kunikida was a delinquent as a teenager (especially given his attitude). In this case, his familiarity with violence would probably come via brawls with other gangs and such. I've also seen ideas of him being something of a teen vigilante, which is also definitely possible - teenage Kunikida without a sense of direction for his moral compass, I could see going that route.

Either way, I think he met Fukuzawa young. I've theorized at age 15, to mirror how Chuuya met Mori at 15, but I definitely think he met him before adulthood. I think Fukuzawa was the one who gave him his Ideals notebook, both the physical thing and the direction Kunikida needed to develop that sense of morality and desire to save people we see in canon. I think Fukuzawa had to be instrumental for him - like, why would Kunikida, who dislikes authority and is rude to basically everyone, respect and defer to Fukuzawa so much? Why is Fukuzawa one of the first people we see him use honorifics for? What would cause that type of a relationship?

So yes, I think meeting Fukuzawa was a huge turning point for Kunikida, however it may have been. Maybe he gave him a sense of direction and a way to harness his idealism via the Agency; maybe Fukuzawa was the one who taught him how to help people with his abilities all together. Either way, I can't see someone like Kunikida having such a deep deference and respect for Fukuzawa without him being deeply linked to who Kunikida is as a person, at age 22.

I also wonder if however Kunikida and Fukuzawa met, if it was originally negative or antagonistic. By the time Dazai's Entrance Exam rolls around, Kunikida clearly knows well what Fukuzawa is talking about when he mentions testing Dazai, so Dazai's clearly not the first one to go through that. Given we know neither Yosano nor Ranpo had to pass an entrance exam to join the Agency, our choices are down to either Kunikida or Katai as the first people to take one, which... if it was Kunikida, why would Fukuzawa want that? Why would he want to make sure this guy, specifically, was a good fit for the Agency morally, given Kunikida's such a moral character? What was it that made Fukuzawa want to test Kunikida, if that was what happened?

[pebble-pictures]

WIP

That's a Homeric AU, alright! This is what living in my brain looks like. Would you believe I haven't actually listened to Epic yet? Idk why I'm putting I off. Maybe I'm terrified of disappointment.

Anyway! AU notes beneath the cut!

"Rage — Fable, sing the rage of Pthia’s daughter Ruby,

murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,

hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,

great fighters’ souls, but made their shards carrion,

feasts for the dogs and birds,

and the will of the heavens was moving toward its end.

Begin, Fable, when the two first broke and clashed,

Diamond lord of men and brilliant Ruby. . . ."

-Rose plays a similar role to Odysseus! The morally grey trickster monarch who just wants to be with her spouse and son in the end. Seen as a coward and a bad friend, but the intentions were good. A brilliant strategist and completely hubristic idiot simultaneously. I give her the Pink Diamond palette whenever she isn't disguised. The Rose palette goes to Nobody!

-Pearl as the Athena-parallel goddess of wisdom, arts, and warfare. The pearls will be the patron gods of their respective Diamond monarchs, but Pearl is the closest to her monarch. She follows her everywhere until something big separates them due to a choice Rose makes, thus aiding Rose's son instead in growing up and his mission to learn more about a heroic mother he never knew.

-Lapis of Sparta and Troy, the demigod prisoner whose face sailed a thousand ships. Kidnapped from her home and loved ones, then blamed for the fallout.

-The rage of Ruby, heir to the throne of Pthia, greatest of the Greeks, and her gentle yet coldly terrifying equestrian companion Sapphire, exiled princess of Omas. Technically the same stone irl, but there's a great status disparity. Their ranks in this AU are swapped, though, to better fit the backstory of our Myrmidon boys!

-Padparadscha, disgraced Trojan princess, whose predictions are always ignored and ridiculed. Until it's too late.

-Jasper of Troy. Captor of Lapis Lazuli. Favorite of the detached Pink Pearl, goddess of beauty and lust. A pawn who thinks she's in control. Always inferior to her eldest sister.

-Hessonite of Troy. Favorite of the vain Yellow Pearl. Goddess of prophecy, archery, medicine, music, plague, the sun, and being an annoying little overachiever. Hess commands Troy's armies. Eldest of the royal children. She was canonically the governor of the Earth colony, so she technically counts for my efforts to make all the Trojans pink court gems under Queen White Diamond. Yelp is the only exception, cause I wasn't making Aubergine or Lonely into Apollo. It fit her too well.

-Steven goes on a journey to learn about and live up to a heroic parent he's never met. Prince of Ithaca. Spends his early life constantly having to fight adults who want to kill him, and having to defend his home and single parent from said adults.

-Greg. "I've never had that many exes show up at once since—" has hundreds fighting for a hand that's technically already taken. Known for his artistic pursuits, like Penelope for her weaving. A lot more clever than he first appears. A damn good dad.

- Amethyst is undecided. Maybe an Ajax? A goofier Diomedes? Absolutely up for suggestions.

-Garnet as the tall, blunt, crazy strong child of Ruby who joins the war in her early years. Neoptolemus/Pyrrhus, who I'm now realizing isn't as universal as the others, so I'm saying it explicitly.

-Aquamarine as the (justifiably) murderous sister of Helen/Lapis, Clytemnestra! Eyeball as the lover who helps her kill her spouse! Freckles and Curls as their brothers, the twins Castor and Pollux! I'm cooking.

And the Lapis twins ESPECIALLY work for the Gemini! One was callous and spiteful, one was kind and followed his brother. However, because a lot of people in those times/place thought you could have multiple fathers per set of twins (or per baby if you ask some of Alexander's contemporaries about him), one twin was a fully immortal demigod. Not full-blooded Spartan royalty. Freckles isn't a pure Lapis, she has pyrite flecks!

And the Gemini later both became water gods! Idk who will fill Orestes' slot. Probably Blue Zircon, since Orestes was the impetus of the founding of the Athenian legal system.

-Yellow Diamond, Queen of Men. Favorite of Blue Pearl, goddess of the seas, storms, earthquakes, and horses. Angry and selfish, hated but feared by her gems. Later murdered by her family. Only using Lapis' kidnapping as an excuse for war and plunder.

-Blue Diamond, queen of Sparta. Also favored by Bloop. Desperate to take Lapis back from Troy. Constantly grieving her rapidly dropping family, but still terrifying.

-White Diamond, queen of Troy. Starts detached, cold, and neglectful. Loses everything, becoming a humbled and grieving old mother and grandmother.

-Gimme ideas for Peridot! Was gonna make her Meneleus, but it'd be weird making her Blue's sister.

-Bismuth = Hephaestus

- Rose Buds = The Fates

- Aubergine = Artemis? Hera? Idk, man, I just REALLY wanna include the Hera/Artemis fistfight.

-Lonely Pearl = Hermes

-Pyrope = Hera, probably, actually. It fits her Vibe. Or Zeus. Or Demantoid as Zeus?

-Navy = Ares. Full stop.

[cowboymantis]

Y'know what since it's pride month, I'll do a little random rambling about my identity, bc hell I am 22 whole years old and I am still struggling with my gender lmaoo 😭😭

But also, nowadays I think it's really funny that I took so long to properly realize I was trans and aroace

There were. So many signs. 💀

I almost dreaded to come out as trans to one of my old online friend groups, not bc I thought they were transphobic (bc we were always a heavily lgbtq group), but because I thought I took so long and now I'd have to explain myself. (Stupid I know, but my family is very transphobic, so I never got to be my true self irl, and idk if I ever will as long as my family lives, but maybe I'll be brave enough one day)

But one of the first reactions I got was just yeah I always thought you were gonna say that 😭 And us all talking AND OTHERS COMING OUT TOO it was just such a weight lifted from my shoulders, it was so great.

Because of my family, I'm not 100% sure how I feel about my gender, if I feel more nonbinary or male, it's more something in-between, but more towards male,, but that's why I just feel most comfortable without a label, I'm just me and I'm here 🛌

When it comes to figuring out I'm aroace, the thing is, I kinda thought about it before, but I wasn't sure. Even then, it wasn't too long before I realized.

I always hated romance and cheesy scenes, kissing and especially sex scenes in anything I watch make me super uncomfortable, I'd sometimes think about, if I'm grown up and in a relationship, I have to do all of that... And I was actually scared of needing to get in a relationship, or something like that. Part of it was pressure from my parents to tell me I need to find a partner, to, I guess properly live my life or something. And this is essentially what a lot of people think, that you NEED to have a partner to be complete, and I always found it so weird. I don't want a partner I just wanna sit in my room and play videogames all day :'D

Oddly enough, No Straight Roads, one of my favourite games ever, has indirectly helped me- NOW HEAR ME OUT. One name: Eve.

Omg I love Eve so so much, and her whole arc just made me slowly go ... I feel that omg

I was in one relationship in my life, I'm actually still friends with that person, they also came out as trans, but are in a poly relationship now, which is kind of funny to me because we went pretty much the exact opposite route, I love it 😭

Anyway, I never had any feelings of love how people describe it, I never had any attraction to people. But I was so desperate when we broke up, like I lost my one opportunity in life to be in a relationship, like I needed to have someone else no matter how uncomfortable I felt being in one.

And I just saw my younger teenage self in Eve and I think this is one of the reasons I am so attached to this character, gahhHH I love No Straight Roads so much. It has helped me in a time I was feeling down, it indirectly got me into kpop (😭😭yeah), which then also came at the right time when I had a downer phase, and the community of the game on release was just so sweet.

But yeah, to come back to it, throughout my life, I basically went from "I guess I'm pan or something, because I don't have a preference"

To "Okay the thought of being with a man disgusts me, so I have to be a lesbian"

To "Okay, but I just like looking at people in an aesthetical way, I simp for characters or actors as a joke, I just like looking at them or think they're cute, but that's about it"

And then I was just like oh. Oh wait. it's all coming together.

Realizing you're aromantic and/or asexual can be really hard, and I've seen others' experiences be similar to mine. I think, in a way, it's so hard bc pursuing relationships is the norm for most of the world.

Thinking back to that one lesson we had in ethics class I'll never forget, we had to write down something about the meaning of life. And then everyone should say what they have written down and what their idea was. Most people wrote down having a family. I don't even know what I wrote down (probably something like a happy life or something basic), but I talked about how meaning of life doesn't have to be having a family. And the teacher basically laughed at me for saying that bc that's the whole point of being a human!!!

And I guess from that day I had this one sided beef / grudge against this teacher bc how the hell are you an ethics teacher and think so one-sided 😭 Sure, humans start families so they don't die out, but not EVERY human needs to start a family to have a purpose in life?

So yeah, anyway. Aspecs are very nuanced, there are those who have platonic relationships, people who enjoy sex although they are not attracted to someone, I myself am absolutely repulsed by anything sexual and I don't ever want any type of relationship, I don't like being lovey dovey, and I hate being too close to someone, like hugging, etc. On the outside I've always been very distant, but on the inside I have all the love I don't have for romance, for my friends and for this world instead 😌🙏

I guess I can really seem too cold or maybe even angry, bc it's hard for me to properly show my emotions, and that's why I prefer text over word, I can express myself so freely and can add all the silly little emotes I want :3

Also, I always loved the I do not perceive and do not wish to be perceived bc yeah . Me fr jfhdjdhr

Also, I'm not too fond of sexualities and genders all having weird stereotypes, but god damit I love robots/androids etc sm I always would love to be one fr ‼️‼️ I guess that's one of the reasons I was immediately hooked on Tokusatsu- NO THIS IS NOT GONNA BE A TOKU POST THIS HAS DERAILED WAY TOO FAR

But speaking of-- Naki me belobed and ofc their actor, I love Nakayama sm man and recently read an a bit older interview of him and he's so real 😭😭 I've never literally me-d for an actor so much 🥲

[brb-on-a-quest]

What's one of your favorite childhood memories?

Hello, friend, good to see you, even if you do hide in the shadows. Hope you are well. <3

Let me tell you about a time I fell in love with storytelling all over again. I grew up on stories; I loved having my dad read to me when I was little (we read Narnia books, the Hobbit, the Lord of the Rings, Robin Hood, etc. I loved *all* of it). I loved the stories of found families and tight friendships like it was my bread and butter because I hadn't made any friends I could get closed to bc family moved around a lot (a decision I don't resent my family for now, but despised as a kid), and I wasn't really *that* close to my family either due to probably a variety of factors, not excluding mental health issues. I won't delve for the sake of length, you get the point. I was a sad and lonely child and my closest friends were imaginary. Anyway back to more concrete events:

We had just moved from Florida to Virginia, which is about 1000 miles away and over 13 hour drive (for context), and we had just started a new co-op (think like homeschool school, but it only met like once a week, it was one of the ways we'd start building up a new social circle or something). And one of the classes I took in was something music (more likely theater? related but that might have a different semester) and the first week of this co-op I remember they gave us a bingo card with a bunch of famous movie soundtracks and they told us we were going to identify the movie based on the song alone.

I got 2/20 or something bc I hadn't even heard of most of these movies bc i just hadn't been exposed to it. It was things like Batman, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, maybe spongebob- pop culture stuff that I just hadn't seen. So everyone else was getting excited and I was feeling more and more out of the loop and alone.

I swear this turns happy at the end, bear with me, anon. They play the final music track and I don't recognize it at all but it fills me with such great joy and a call for a new adventure that I hadn't even realized music could do that before (we didn't listen to a lot of our own music growing up, it was mainly whatever my parents found appropriate or what my dad liked).

It was How To Train Your Dragon. Test Drive. John Powell. And then like the musical scores, they showed the scene it was from. A boy and his dragon racing, flying through the air. And I fell in love With the characters arcs per se, but I could tell there was a deep lore there and a story of friendship that I craved so much. It was also right up my alley with stories my Dad had read me so there was also that. But like the music was fantastic, I really liked the visuals at the time (i usually hate most 3D animation films, HTTYD is the exception), and I craved the story behind it.

I saved up money from Birthday and Christmas and ended up buying it. And I watched it. And I fell in love even harder. Cause, in some sense, I related to hiccup too much. I was a creative person, like he was, I had very little friends like he did at the beginning, we had similar senses of humor at some points, and he was fascinated with knowing and learning things. And he had a big dragon friend and i again craved that friendship deeply. So he added to the crew of imaginary friends and I went on many imaginary adventures with Hiccup and Toothless and told myself so many stories that I wish I could remember now for writing inspo.

I ended up moving from Virginia to middle of nowhere Midwest US (not saying where in case the Fey Find Out), and I did end up meeting my IRL Toothless. A little bit scary on the outside at firsts, but with an actual heart of a silly, goofy, dragon. (brb, im getting emotional just thinking about it. It'd be about 7 years now? Coming up? I may be bad at math. I feel old and happy and content.)

So yeh, in short it was a very much right place, right time kind of story and film. I still watch it a lot whenever I need a comfort film that's not as long as LOTR or something. I love the soundtrack and all of the things about it. Sorry, this was probably way longer than it should've been but IDK how to describe my love for this story without giving you some context.

[percyweasleyapologist]

Interacting with human beings that I don't know irl is actually pretty mood lifting so I'd say you're helping already

How has you're day been? A friend of mine I haven't seen in ages is coming back in town for the holidays. I'm super excited to see them! I have a few hours until it's time to meet up though and I don't know what to do

I slept in today and then spent all of my morning on my phone which resulted in getting yelled at by my mom. She's in a testy mood today. I have so many things I want to do but I'm sorta procrastinating

And im already thinking about how I'll have to get ready in like two hours and I'm getting agitated. I love hanging out with my friends but getting ready is always a hustle. I have a lot of clothes but I don't like most of them or they aren't comfortable but my parents refuse me to buy new ones and I'm always wearing the same things. Im pretty self conscious about that. I feel like everyone has a catalogue in their heads of all my clothes and realise I only have like three pairs of pants I actually wear. It stresses me out

And I can never decide my stance on makeup. Most of my schoolmates wear a lot of it but im usually all natural and when I go to try out something new I just get so frustrated because it never turns out well. Lipstick feels icky and looks weird. Mascara is nice but feels too unnatural. Eyeliner I can never do well. I dislike jewellery. And I always just have a mini breakdown every time without fail and I can already feel it coming on.

I don't know what id be called. Maybe sad anon? One breath away from a mental breakdown anon? Idk

Just realised how long this ended up. Sorry. Feel free to delete it if you don't feel up to answering

🍂

ahh shoot- i didn't see this!! sorry!!

oh well great!! my day has been pretty good! i got a haircut and then watched my (american) football team win! so they're gonna go to the quarter finals for college playoffs- so i'm happy about that :)

ooh how was it? seeing your friend. i hope it went well!!

ahh shoot, that's sucks but i get ittt. still annoying tho. good luck!

also getting ready is such a hassle, booooo. but same girl- i only have 3 pairs of pants😭 (jeans tho). honestly don't worry about it, i promise you, no one notices that stuff lol

mhm, i'd say wear what you like! wear what makes you comfortable and feel nice, but if it's icky or you don't like how it looks, don't wear it!! I feel like mascara is a nice one and once you get used to it, it starts to look more natural. also lipgloss and maybe tinted chapstick if you want a different shade? those are my tips but feel free to not use them lol

i'd also say, maybe over the weekend or when you have time- try to figure out a simple makeup routine that you like! that's what i did over the past summer and it's been nice to get up and have the things i know i'm gonna be doing and know how to use them <33

I like just the 🍂 anon! it's prettyyyy

also don't worry haha, i'm glad you talk to me lol <3