#or in other words: how do i want to earn enough money to live comfortably

[bashful-berry]

so i used to be happy when people misgendered me the other way than what i was used to (like they thought i was a trans binary person)

but lately it's getting actually annoying

like i've been getting more acceptance and positive reactions and people not treating me like a a person of my agab but a person unrelated to it (rarely "perfect" as in seeing me as nonbinary but welp, in this society imagining a person truly outside the binary of male-female gender is hella hard work)

so maybe i got spoiled?

spoiled trans twenty something can no longer stand (the other kind of) misgendering

[thef1diary]

Hii can you write an angsty fic with Daniel with these prompts: "Just play along, please!" & "I can't do this any longer, I just can't!"

Play Along | D. Ricciardo

Summary: You were in a fake relationship with Daniel, and inevitably, you started to fall for him. Unfortunately, those feelings weren't returned.

Warnings: angst, Daniel is a sweetheart and an asshole at the same time, heartbreak.

pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established fake relationship)

wc: 2k

thef1diary 1k celebration

Daniel walked over to your side and opened the car door, then extended his hand for you to accept. Once he helped you out, he closed the door behind you but didn't move a step away.

His hand came up to your cheek, the roughness of his palm only making you blush. You were easily mesmerized by simple eye contact, especially whenever he looked at you like you were everything to him.

Then, he slowly closed the gap between you, placing a short but sweet lingering kiss on your lips before moving to your cheek. "Daniel," you muttered, completely confused by his actions that you almost forgot to kiss back.

Bringing his lips closer to your ear, he whispered, "cameras are watching, pretend like you're in love with me."

Of course. That's where the affection sprouted from. You managed to put a smile on your face but you couldn't pretend to love him. It wasn't an act on your side anymore, you had already fallen for him a few weeks ago but he had no idea.

Daniel moved away, but offered his arm for you to hold, an action that only made others think you two were truly together.

Your relationship, or rather the contract, started a year ago. It was pretty straightforward, Daniel needed someone to play the act of his girlfriend, and you needed money. You didn't think much of it when you signed, only focusing on the amount you earned monthly which was more than enough to live comfortably. It was a win-win situation.

Before signing, Daniel took you out for coffee casually as one of his requirements was to at least be with someone that he would get along with. Even though you quickly found out he was one of the kindest and friendliest person you met, you never thought that you'd be the one catching feelings.

It was one of the rules he was adamant on, among multiple others. "You won't fall in love with me right?" He asked making you almost choke on your coffee then burst out laughing.

However, he didn't laugh at all, which was very unlike him. "Oh you're serious?" You asked, composing yourself. He nodded, "we can be friends sure, but I can't give you anything more than that so don't expect it."

"I won't, this is just a contract, a business transaction even," you stated, not knowing how much you would regret those words.

His arm was placed on your lower back as you entered the banquet hall. Truthfully, you had no idea what the event was about, only knowing that Daniel was a respected guest. He had invited you as his plus-one, and frankly that's all he needed from you.

Daniel was introducing you—as his girlfriend—to some of the important people of the night. But all you could focus on was the way his palm rested on your back, the heat noticeable through your dress.

When he spoke your name, you finally focused on the conversation happening in front of you. "Sorry?"

He chuckled at your confusion, "do you want to tell them the story of how we met?"

You two had a good story memorized, exactly for a moment like this whenever someone would ask. But, you started thinking about how different your lives would be if it were true.

"We met at a café, I was just trying to enjoy my coffee but he tripped over his own feet right next to me," you spoke, making Daniel's eyes widen because that wasn't the exact version of the story you agreed upon.

He still laughed and played along, like he always does. "Some could say I tripped just to get your attention." You playfully slapped his chest, "and you say I fell first but you did, quite literally."

"You might've, but I fell harder, quite literally," he let out a boisterous laugh at his own joke and you couldn't help but join him.

For a short moment, you forgot that there were people around you. But then again, the only time Daniel was this flirty with you was around others.

"That's adorable," the person who you didn't remember the name of said. You tuned out of the conversation again as it didn't include you anymore.

Once again, Daniel nudged you but this time the other person walked away but you didn't exactly remember when. "Is everything okay?"

You nodded but he didn't believe it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Daniel, I think I just need a drink." He smiled, "it's an open bar, let's go get one." He didn't focus on the fact that you didn't use his nickname like you usually did.

After ordering the drinks, he stood facing you, a smile on his face but you knew him well enough to know it wasn't genuine. At least not in this fake situation.

A few other people came up to Daniel for short conversations, and as you watched him laugh, you thought of how your last year was spent with him.

Daniel followed through on his promise of becoming friends when he showed up at your apartment one day with takeout bags in his hands, because you mentioned that you were really stressed lately.

While you didn't end up getting any work done that night, Daniel kept you company and diverted your mind away from all the stress. You remember how your stomach hurt the next day with how much you laughed.

Other times, he would spoil you. Despite the fact that he paid you for the act, and that too was a lot of money, he still bought you anything you wanted.

It started with going shopping with him, and he would carefully keep an eye on your likes and dislikes. Once he was confident in his choices, he would send you gifts even if he wasn't with you.

On your birthday, you were surprised with a large bouquet of roses, with various pieces of expensive jewelry. A few weeks before your birthday, you and Daniel went shopping and while you loved each piece of jewelry, you didn't end up buying it.

Unbeknownst to you, Daniel went back a few hours later to buy every single bracelet, necklace, and anything else you showed any sort of interest in.

After all that, spending time with him, you started seeing him more as a lover than a friend. The day you acknowledged that thought, you knew it would hurt to leave.

It seemed like zoning out was a habit of yours tonight, because Daniel had to call your name twice before you heard him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, showing a hint of worry in his tone. You looked around the ballroom, watching a few people dance while others were huddled together in small groups to converse.

You turned your gaze back towards him, "this is kind of boring, sorry, I'm just not interested anymore."

Instead of judging you, he nodded, "it is, do you want to leave?"

"What?" Your confusion made Daniel look at you with amusement present in his eyes. "We've been here long enough so we can leave. I'm craving fries and a burger anyways." He spoke casually.

Waiting for your response, Daniel brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest on your cheek for a few seconds too long.

"Daniel," your own hand rested on top of his, and when you made direct eye contact with him, that's when your restraint snapped.

"We can stop by that one fast food place you like," he added to convince you but he had no idea of the inner turmoil that you were burdened with, finally becoming too much to handle.

"No, I can't, I'm sorry," you spoke, confusing him but you didn't wait for his response. Moving his hand away, you swiftly walked towards the exit.

Daniel wasn't too far behind, calling your name but you couldn't listen to him anymore. His voice was too sweet, too full of confusion, and you really wanted to go back. But you knew if you continued the act, you wouldn't be able to stop.

As soon as you were outside, under the night sky, Daniel rushed towards you and grasped your hand to stop you. "What's going on?"

You ran your free hand through your hair, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry, Daniel, I can't do this anymore," you started.

"Do what?"

"Act. I can't pretend to be your girlfriend anymore, I know we had an agreement but I'm backing out now," you stressed, and Daniel held your other hand or else you would’ve been pacing back and forth by now.

"You can't leave whenever you feel like it. Just play along, please!" He responded, trying to understand what the reasoning behind your decision could be.

You shook your head, "I can't do this any longer, I just can't."

"Why not?" He finally decided to ask. You hesitated because you knew it was time to tell him the truth. “Because I'm in love with you, Danny, and we need to stop pretending before I think it's real on your end too."

Daniel's mouth opened and then closed, as he didn't know how to respond, "but-" he tried but you were quick to cut him off. "Is it?"

"What?" He asked, making you sigh, "is it real for you too?" You forced the words out, but when he didn't have a response, your heart broke.

This time, it was all your own fault. You knew he didn't feel anything for you, not like you felt for him, and by asking if he did, you were only setting yourself up for heartbreak.

"Exactly," you stated once the silence hung in the air for a few seconds too long. It felt suffocating, but you had to continue, "you told me that I couldn't fall in love with you, but I did. That should be enough of a reason for you to let me go."

Daniel couldn't find the right words, and you assumed it was because he couldn't disagree with you. He couldn't tell you that he loved you, he didn't, so he didn't say anything at all.

"I'm sorry. You're a good guy, Daniel, a great guy in fact, and I'm sure that you'll find someone else who's willing to play along. Someone who won't fall for you."

The harsh wind blew your hair, and perhaps you could lie to yourself and claim that the wind was the reason your eyes teared up. But, you knew better.

You looked at him once more, and right before a tear finally slipped out of your eye, you turned away. You didn't want to cry in front of him, even if he was the cause of it.

He found his voice, and called out for you. "Can I at least drop you home? You're gonna fall sick."

You smiled, but he couldn’t see your face so he didn’t notice how it didn’t reach your eyes, "no, thank you,” you spoke loud enough to the empty space in front of you. Your decision was final.

Daniel didn't watch you walk away, he turned in the other direction once he realized you weren’t coming back. He walked towards his car, as there was no reason to stay at the event without you. There would be too many questions and he wasn't ready to deal with that.

Especially not when he just found out that you were in love with him. He didn't know what to think, so he decided not to think at all.

Turning up the music to an unbelievably loud volume that prevented him from listening to his own thoughts, he drove away. While he wasn’t constantly thinking of you, the thought of you remained in the back of his mind, knowing that it would come forth to haunt him in a few days.

[nellielsss]

⤜♡→ ɯҽʅƈσɱҽ ԋσɱҽ, ԃαɾʅιɳɠ!

Summary: something soft and sweet... you've missed him, & he's missed you! Give him a big, welcome home kiss; it'll take all that stress away! Note: pure fluff! I've been stressed out recently and I need some comfort. IB by Plastic off the Sofa by Beyoncé. I also kinda went overboard on Toji's bit. This shall also be edited later on, I just wanted to post it immediately so I could go to bed 💀 IT'S ALSO 11.3K WORDS SOO Incl: Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Satoru Gojo, Yami Sukehiro CW: lewd jokes (kinda)

╰┈➤ Work... so, so much work. It's like the jobs are never-ending! After Toji Zen'in decided to take up some more work in order to provide for your guys' future and the lifestyle you deserved, the amount of jobs that he's taken up has increased tenfold. Even he, a man who was in peak, even superhuman physical condition, had his limits. The number of jobs he's ground out has to be in the double digits (and not some puny number in the tens). After the 21st job, he gave up on keeping count. He was able to justify the grueling workload, though, because of you. You were his everything, the reason for doing what he did (which included living), and he'd be damned if he couldn't spoil his future wife like he wanted.

Finally, he had earned enough to satisfy his unrelenting need to provide for you after he closed up on his last and biggest mission yet: a job that took 3 days and paid him over 48 million yen (~300,000 USD). It was enough to last the two of you for the rest of the year and then some. The man breathed a sigh of relief when he got the bank notification on his cellphone, and he said to himself: "a job well done, Zen'in." He even smiled in public a little bit at the sight of it. He then put the phone in his pant pocket and went on his merry way back home to you.

You, meanwhile, were in the living room of your shared apartment, fixing up a little celebratory dinner. He'd told you about how this was the last night he was gonna come home late, how this was the last job that would keep you apart, how he was gonna take you on an all expenses paid shopping trip the minute you had time to go with him to Shibuya. You knew he had certain sacrifices to make, given the fact that neither of you had much money when you started dating, and that was why you never chose to complain.

But that didn't mean that you didn't miss him.

You missed his touch, you missed his tender kisses, the way that he held you close as if he was afraid of you being stolen from him by some unseen force, and you sure as shit missed all the nights spent together in each other's company watching shitty movies & UFC fights.

The way he tilted your chin up to make you kiss him, the way the words "pretty" and "doll" rolled right off his tongue, the way he looked at you like you were god's gift to this shitty world...

All of a sudden, you heard the door swing open with the sounds of the rain pitter-pattering outside of the balcony entrance. You knew he was coming home earlier tonight, but you didn't know he'd be home that early!

"Princess?" his gruff voice called out from the door. He closed the door behind him and dropped his robust duffel bags next to the door, letting out another sigh of happiness. He looked up at the ceiling lamp before looking back in front of him, and he outstretched his arms the moment he saw you coming from down the hallway. "Princess," he repeated, a soft smile growing across his face as you jumped into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face into your neck.

"Toji!" You exclaimed into his black sweater, breathing in his natural smell... and he smelled just like home. He always managed to smell good, even when his job involved less-than-ideal activities. "I missed you," was what you finally said after the two of you took in each other's presence.

"Missed you too," he hummed, craning his head to look down at you. "God, I've missed you... missed you so much, baby." His mind was so swamped with work, he had forgotten what a beauty he held in his arms. After he took a few moments to admire you, his sense of smell brought him back to reality, and he could smell his favorite meal from the kitchen. "Is that... offal meat I smell?" he asked, looking at the kitchen and then back at you.

"It sure is," you replied excitedly, making his smile grow even wider.

"Princess, did you really make my favorite?" he asked to which you nodded and giggled. "You didn't have to, baby," he replied, ruffling your hair gently with his big hand.

You pulled away from his embrace and he pouted instinctively, not wanting you to go anywhere just yet. "I didn't know when you were coming home, so it's not ready just yet." He watched the sexy sway of your hips before catching up to you, not wanting to leave his princess by herself after just seeing her again.

"I don't mind," he replied, following you into the kitchen. He stood behind you as you continued prepping it and he wrapped his arms around your waist. "I thought you didn't like it, though?"

"I still don't," you corrected him, "but I just figured that, with how tired from work you must be, you'd enjoy it."

He continued smiling down at you and placed his lips on your head. "You really are the best, y'know?" he muttered in between crown kisses.

"I know," you replied coolly, as if you didn't just make his favorite meal.

"Still cocky as ever, I see," he quipped, making you giggle again.

"Go ahead and sit down on the couch. It won't be ready for another ten minutes, and you must be exhausted from all this work." You looked over your shoulder at him, only to see that he wasn't budging. "Toji, I'm serious! I know you're the big, bad 'sorcerer killer' and whatever else you might be, but even you need to take a break every now and then. I don't want you throwing your back when you're still in your prime!"

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head, hiding his face in your neck. "Don't wanna; not when I've got the best thing in the world right in my arms, and who's to say I'm reaching my end soon? I'm just getting started, sweetness," he replied with a confident grin. You didn't say anything in response, instead grabbing him by the hand and dragging him to the couch. "Princess..."

"Just sit down already, you stubborn brute," you muttered under your breath. "Sit down, and let me take care of you for once. Just rest your feet and wait 'til I'm done making dinner, okay?"

He didn't say anything, instead crossing his arms over his chest like an impotent teenager. "Fine, fine... I guess I'll relax for a 'lil. Now go on, don't let the meat burn."

"I'll make sure it's cooked to perfection, you big baby," you reassured him. He cracked a little smile and watched you walk off, going to finish the meal that you'd cooked especially for his return from work. He guessed it wasn't too bad to let you take the reins every once in a while... he was always the one bringing home the dough, making dinner for the two of you, and making sure that your pretty little face didn't have a single stress line or brow furrow on it.

He kicked up his feet on the wooden coffee table and patiently waited for you to finish. He wasn't exactly used to relaxing and lounging around when you were doing stuff; he was always the one taking care of his sweet baby.

So, he looked around at the apartment the two of you shared. His green eyes scanned over everything, from the framed portraits to the color palette you used for the living room. He grabbed a nearby photo of the two of you, and he couldn't help but smile: it was a photo of you two at an ice skating rink. He remembered that day so, so fondly, the memory of you helping him learn making his heart swell with affection and joy.

You looked so effortlessly cute in that little knitted beret of yours, and the matching grey & pink Burberry cape & skirt combo only made you look even cuter. A stark contrast to his usual all-black or grey ensembles, but in your eyes, the contrast only made him hotter in your eyes.

The two of you were just so different, and yet; you were perfect for one another. You went together like jam and toast, with you being the oh-so sweet strawberry jam that he couldn't get enough of.

Oh, how he loved ravishing you any chance he could get. The feeling of your soft, untainted & supple skin against his scars; your soft chest squished against his hard one; the way your plush thighs expanded when he bent your knees to your chest...

He was just so incredibly in love with you that coming home to you and bringing you flowers was the highlight of his day.

After all, ou were the one who showed him how to love. You were the one who restored his faith in humanity, and you were the one who made him feel like he was more than Zen'in trash.

You were a paladin sent from heaven, and he'd rip apart anyone with his bare claws if they tried to take you away from him. He'd tear the throat & heart out of the people who so much as even thought about doing so.

Because, you... you were home to him.

"It's readyyy!" you sang from the kitchen, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Coming, princess," he called out to you, getting off the sofa and sauntering over to the dining table. It was laid out beautifully, the fine china he stole obtained from a client and the silverware he also stole making everything just perfect.

"Doll..." he walked over to you, wrapping his big arms around you and cradling you close. "You didn't have to do all of this for me, y'know?"

"I know; just wanted to make you feel appreciated, was all." You flashed him a bright smile, and he felt his heart skip a beat. That smile... fuck, he could just devour you for dinner and skip all this other stuff.

"Even so much as looking in my direction makes me feel appreciated, baby, but I appreciate the dinner regardless." He pulled you in close and pressed some kisses along your spine, inhaling your scent like you were the oxygen needed for him to live. "God.... god, god, god--I don't even know what I did to deserve you, baby. You're the best fuckin' woman I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"You don't have to do anything but love me, Toji," you whispered back, a rare moment of vulnerability shining through. "You love me more than any man ever has, and for that I cannot repay you. All you have to do is protect me and maybe give me a couple kisses, though."

His eyes widened and closed slightly, his mind registering the ambrosia of your words. "Doll... you're gonna make me cry over meat, y'know?"

"Oh, Toji," you giggled, grabbing either side of his face. "Try not to cry over the offal; it'l make it soggy and gross."

"You're right, you're right," he conceded, taking his place at the table. He took a bite of the meal that you so graciously prepared for him, and his eyes widened--it was like the food came straight from heaven. "This is... delicious, doll. How the hell did you make it so tender?"

"You think so? I'm not much of a cook, but I'll take the compliments regardless," you giggled. "So, now that you have work off for the rest of the year, where are we headed off to? Kyoto? Okinawa?" you asked in between bites, finding the meat surprisingly good yourself. "I've got a vacation lined up soon, perhaps we could get out of Tokyo for a little while.

"Hm... a vacation would be nice," he pondered for a moment. "But, if we're talking about a vacation after I just got my big pay day, you might wanna think bigger than just Japan, baby," he retorted with a sly grin.

"Paris?" you asked sarcastically.

He didn't say anything, instead smiling at you knowingly. You quickly realized that he wasn't joking around with you. "Toji... Toji!" you repeated, jumping up from your seat and hugging him. "You're taking me to Paris?! Oh my god, I just love you, Toji!"

"Only the best for my princess," he chuckled. "Figured I'd spoil ya with my little check. I don't gotta work for the rest of the year, so we can plan according to your schedule, baby. I'm thinking after Paris, we can go to Rome, too."

You looked at him again, a satisfied smile gracing your gorgeous features. "I am so gonna suck your dick," you sighed, making him burst out in laughter

"I was gonna give it to ya with no strings attached, but, hey; I'm not stopping ya!"

Curiosity got the better of you, and you had to ask: "but, if you've already got it planned, then... how'd you know I'd have the weeks off?"

He shrugged. "Just a sixth sense. May have pulled a few strings here and there, but it's no biggie."

"Wait, that was you who got me the time off? No wonder it was for 3 weeks; I usually never get a vacation!"

"Baby, you already know I'd do anything for you. I've dealt with way more stressful situations than talking to your boss, so it really was nothing for me." By the way he said it, you could just tell that he was being serious. The man's an assassin--if he wanted something done, he'd get it done.

You continued to eat your food only you smiled at him the entire time. "Paris... I've never been to Paris before," you sighed dreamily. "I've always wanted to go there since I was little."

"Well, now's your chance," Toji hummed. "The city of love with your love, does it get any better than that?"

You put your chopsticks down and smiled brightly at him. "No, it really doesn't." You leaned in, pressing a nice, big kiss to his cheek. You were about to pull away when he pulled you back in, clearly demanding more.

"Nah, don't gimme those cheek kisses; kiss me on the lips like I'm your boyfriend," he demanded, making you laugh again. He pulled you in by the waist, plopped you on his lap, and all but smothered your face in a big, sloppy kiss. "Baby, I gotta tell ya," he murmured in between smooches, "and I know I've told you this a lot," even more kisses, "but you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't even know what possessed you to pick me, but I am one lucky bastard... good god, woman, why do your lips taste so fucking good?"

"It's the taste of love," you murmured. Normally, he would've recoiled at how mushy your words were, but every ounce of mush made him hungrier for more.

"Whatever it may be... I want more of it. Order up!" he joked, making you giggle yet again. "C'mon, let's finish this meal up so we can get to the good part: the cuddles."

"You don't wanna have sex?" you asked with a furrowed brow.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm kinda tired. I know we have it every night we're together, but I'm wiped from all the work. Let's just cuddle, yeah? I don't mean to disappoint you or anything, baby..."

You put a hand on his cheek and rubbed it soothingly. "You're not disappointing me; you could never disappoint me. I was just a little confused, but it's alright. We can cuddle." Your hand subconsciously rubbed the scar on his lip, and he couldn't help but smile at you.

"You're the best, sweetheart," he whispered before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"Ahh," Toji sighed as he laid down on the bed next to you, "this is just what I needed, sweet stuff." He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in, wrapping his big arms around your body.

You were currently laying down on your shared bed when he finally made his way into the bedroom. Toji had to take a quick shower before he could engage in any sort of cuddles with you, due to the fact that he smelled like blood and bones. He threw on a sweater over his still-damp body and immediately got into bed with you.

"C'mere, big boy," you said giddily, "and gimme some love."

"You don't have to tell me twice." After a few seconds of kissing, his hands roamed around your body and went up your shirt.

"Didn't you tell me that you didn't wanna have sex?" you asked jokingly, your eyebrow raised.

"I just wanna touch my woman, not touch her like that," he quipped to which you giggled and kissed him again.

"I know, I know. I just felt like teasin' ya," you hummed, booping his sharp nose with the tip of your finger. He merely shook his head and continued kissing you, the scar on his lip tickling your own lips. Still, you welcomed that tickle--for that tickle represented how tough and strong Toji was. It was funny how something so small could have such a huge effect on the man, for where Toji saw a remnant of his weakness and his disgusting past, you saw his bravery and his courageousness. It was like a trophy in your eyes, a shiny, gold object that you couldn't help but admire.

It was a damn shame he couldn't see it the way you did.

But why would he? It did represent the ugliness of the Zen'in clan, the clan that abused him and took him for granted. So, instead of starting a debate over a scar of all things; you decided to remind him of his worth in a way that wouldn't stir up bad memories for him.

"Toji, my big, handsome baby," you started, your lips moving from his to his cheek.

"Hmmm? What is it, my sweet, beautiful princess?"

You kissed a trail from his cheeks and to the bridge of his nose. "I just... can't help but admire you, y'know?"

He quirked an eyebrow (which you kissed) and looked at you more intently. "Elaborate."

"You're just such a strong man, both physically and mentally. You care for me in ways no man ever has before, and you cradle me to your heart as if I'd shatter if dropped." After kissing his eyebrow (which he still found odd), you moved his bangs out of the way and kissed his forehead several times.

"Now you're just butterin' me up, doll," he chuckled with a light pink blush.

"You're incredible, y'know?" you murmured, "an incredible man, so worthy of my respect and love... you look at me like I'm the Earth and you're the Moon."

"That's because you are, baby," he muttered.

You simply smiled at him and continued kissing him. "You've had a rough life, but you're still here; you're stronger, if anything. You're resilient in ways I could only dream of being."

By this point, Toji had gone silent, the sudden rush of emotions making him stop talking. He didn't wanna start crying in the middle of your little trail of kisses, after all.

"Do you know how much I love you, Toji?" this time, instead of continuing to kiss him, you pulled back and looked at him.

He nodded silently.

"I love you more than anything, baby. I love you more than... well, I honestly can't think of anything that comes close to you in terms of love."

"Baby-" he choked up, his voice cracking slightly.

"You don't have to speak, Toji. Just hold me and let me tell you how much I love you, 'kay? You've had a rough week, so just sit back, relax, and let me take care of you." You pressed another kiss to his nose and smiled at him.

He nodded, going back to silence. Your lips moved from his nose to his lips, and you pressed a special kiss to where his scar was. His eyes widened, knowing good and well what you were doing. You didn't have to tell him; you just had to kiss him in that special spot--the spot which was the bane of his existence.

A few more kisses to the scar, and you pulled back again. "I love you, Toji... I love you, love you, love you, love you, love youu, I love you..." the little whispers of your love came out of your lips like a never-ending stream in spring, like a waterfall after a rainstorm. With each "I love you," Toji felt himself being pushed to the brink of losing it.

You, the ever-vigilant girl that you were, picked up on this quite easily. It was easy to tell when he was on the brink of breaking down, especially since he tried to hide his gaze and the quiver of his lip. So, you gave him the go ahead: "go on, Toji, cry your heart out."

And so he did. He buried his face within the crook of your neck and started crying, his entire body being wracked with emotion. You sat up on the bed and got into a more comfortable position so that he could be soothed.

"C'mon, Toji, just let it out. I'm never gonna judge you for anything; not a single thing, do you hear me?" you whispered into his ear. He nodded and simply wrapped his entire body around yours. He was twice the size of you; but right now, he felt like the littlest man on Earth. He felt like the little Zen'in boy who was cast aside and tossed into a pit of horrors; like the young man who found himself on the brink of homelessness; like the scared & scarred lost soul.

He may have been scarred, but right now, he wasn't scared, nor was he lost.

He was home.

"I f-fucking love you, princess," he managed to choke out in between sobs, his head slightly craned up to look at you through his tears. "D-Do you hear me? If I ever lose you--if I ever hurt you-"

"You needn't think about that right now, Toji. Just cry, baby. Cry all the tears you've been bottling up, and let me pick up the pieces after you're done."

He nodded, burying his face into your torso and crying his eyes out. The pink sweater which you had on was now wet and damp from all the crying, but that could be fixed with a simple dry. Right now, you were focused on your boyfriend.

"I'll always be here to pick up the pieces."

╰┈➤ Overtime could be such a pain, especially for Kento Nanami. Seriously: the thought of spending his entire day (the time after 6 PM) fighting a bunch of ugly, hideous curses who did nothing but attack and kill innocent people was more repulsive than the curses themselves. At least, while he was dating you, his sweetheart. You were everything to Nanami. In his eyes, you were a lighthouse in a dangerous ocean filled with stormy waters and jagged rocks that tore apart the boats that passed through the area; you were iced lemonade on a hot summer day; you were an angel sent from heaven itself to heal his past troubles and give him a much needed break.

This day was no different. Kento was in severe need of some comfort, and he looked to you for help. Normally, he wouldn't dump all his trouble on you, but it was growing to be way too much for him.

"Ugh... so tired..." the blonde man said to himself. He grabbed the Rolex watch that you gifted him for your anniversary and checked the time: 5:53 PM. Just 7 short minutes, and he'd be able to go back home to you.

Time never seemed to go by as fast as it did when he wanted it to, nor did it go by as slow as when he wanted it to. It was like his workdays were 10 hours long, and the time he spent with you was 1.

"Hey, Nanamiiiin~!" the oh-so annoying voice of Satoru Gojo, his "coworker," perked up.

"Why are you always here at the worst times?"

"You're always so mean, do you ever lighten up?" the white-haired man pouted before settling into a chair next to him. He relaxed into it and stretched his long legs out. "Sooo, Nanamin, you got any plans for after work?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Do you... wanna tell me 'bout em?"

"No, I don't."

"Aw, come on! You're not making this any easier for me," Gojo whined, rolling around in the chair.

"That's because I don't want to."

"Hmph." He crossed his arms and pouted again, looking around for something to do. "Neither of us wanna be here so late, anyway--and we both wanna go home. Why not a little bit of small talk with your favorite before we head out?"

"You're not my favorite; Itadori is, but fine, I'll humor you." He grabbed his wallet and opened it up, showing Gojo a photo of you. "My after work plans are to pick up some flowers on the way home & head home to my wife."

Gojo looked at the photo for a few seconds before chuckling a bit. "Yeah, that checks out. I mean, if I was in a relationship, I'd also wanna head home ASAP. Think I could help you pick those flowers out?"

"No, you don't know what kind of flowers she likes."

"Hmph." He pouted once again.

Nanami grabbed the wallet and smiled at it softly for a few seconds. "She likes peonies and irises..." he trailed off. Gojo didn't say anything, instead smiling at his adoration for you. The clock finally hit 6, and Nanami sprang up from his chair, grabbed his belongings, and sped off home. "Have a good rest of your day, Satoru," he called over his shoulder.

"You too, Nanamin," he replied softly.

"I wonder what's taking him so long," you hummed to yourself over your dinner plate. You were currently seated at the dining table of your shared apartment, the one that you bought after getting married 2 years ago. You looked around at everything, at the life that the two of you had built after so many years of dating, engagement & marriage.

Like the couch that Nanami had brought with him when you were moving in together. It was a cream leather couch--nothing special or amazing, but it was a moniker of your relationship's progress.

Or the hardwood table that sat next to it. It was one of the many things that the two of you had purchased when you were buying furniture for the apartment.

It wasn't just the material possessions that were markers of your progress: the photos of the two of you that hung on the walls; the little souvenirs you picked up in places like Malaysia; and the stuff you bought at flea markets were markers of such.

"He's never late... he's always home at 6:20," you pouted. "He's not... no, what am I thinking? He's been late before."

Just as you'd said those words, you heard the door unlock, and your head swiveled in the direction of the sound.

"Honey? I'm home!" he called out. He loosened his tie and took it off, and then he took his blazer off and hung it up on the wall. He was met by the sight of you walking towards him, your heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

"Welcome home, darling!" You enthused, throwing your arms around your beloved's shoulders and kissing him. Your hug was cushioned by the flowers which crinkled under the compression, and you looked down at it. "Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn't see those there--are they for me?"

"Who else would they be for?" he retorted, making you smile.

"Well... I guess you're right!" You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek again. You took his blazer and put it in his closet, and then you returned to his awaiting arms. "How was work?"

"The same," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Satoru was bothering me, as per usual, and I didn't have any more missions than usual. It was really quite boring."

"Well, then, I'll make sure your evening's not boring," you promised him.

"They could never be boring with you."

Your smile widened in response. "Come, come; let's eat dinner before it gets cold, kay?" He nodded happily and followed you to the table, and he took his place beside you.

"You're always treating me so amazing, sweetheart," he sighed as he relaxed into the soft chair.

"It's just dinner," you said bashfully, waving your hand around.

"Even if it was just ramen, it was you made it for me, therefore it makes it all the more special."

"So, you're saying you want me to make us microwaved ramen?" you teased with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well... if you made it, I'd still eat it, yes."

You couldn't help but giggle, and he chuckled as well. "Don't worry; I'd never subject you to that kind of torment. If we're gonna be starting a family soon, then I'll need to hone my skills as a mother & make sure our kids will be well-fed!"

Ah, that's right: you were starting a family soon. There was a reason you looked for a 3-bed and not a 2-bed when you went apartment shopping. The mention of your future kids reminded him of all the names that the two of you mulled over. You were still finding the perfect ones, but you still had time to settle on them.

"Kento, eat up already! Don't let my hard work go to waste," you said as you picked up the katsu curry with your signature pink chopsticks. Even after becoming Mrs. (Y/N) Nanami, you still stayed true to your pink ways.

"Sorry, sorry. I wouldn't wanna tarnish my beautiful wife's handiwork; not even a little bit."

"It's just dinner," you reminded him, making him chuckle.

"You're right, you're right," he conceded. "Happy wife, happy life."

After dinner ended, and you tried to clean up both of your plates, Nanami stopped you. "Here, let me, sweetheart," he said before standing up.

"There's no need, Kento," you stopped him by putting your hand on his wrist. "You were at work all day; just sit back and let me handle all the heavy lifting."

He was about to protest when he saw the look in your eyes. Normally, he wouldn't let you lift a single finger; but he saw how determined you were to do this simple act of cleaning up the dirty dishes. He knew he had no choice but to let you have your way. Therefore, he sat back down at the table. "Okay, sweetheart. I'll let you do your thing," he nodded. "Just don't dirty up that shirt of yours."

You flashed him a smile and rolled the sleeves of your pink silk blouse up. "I wouldn't dream of it." You then grabbed the plates and made quick work of them in the sink & put them away in the dishwasher. Then, you returned to him and unfolded your sleeves again. "Now, then, what would my amazing & handsome & super sexy husband like to do now?"

His eyebrow raised the more adjectives you used to describe him. "Well, your husband would like to cuddle with his wife for a little bit. Would she like that?"

You nodded giddily, dragging him by the arm already. "Hurry up, slowpoke!" you quipped, making him chuckle again. He didn't say a word as you kicked off your heels & climbed onto the bed, taking extra time just to pose extra sexily for him. Your smile quickly dropped when he went to the dresser and started taking all of his stuff off. "Kento!" you whined as he took off his rolex.

"I don't want all this stuff making you uncomfortable while we cuddle," he retorted, bringing a gasp & a smile to your face.

"Fine, fine... just get over here the millisecond you finish."

And go over there he did. He kicked off his house shoes and finally stepped onto the bed where you patiently waited, and he pulled you into a nice, warm hug. "C'mere already, let me hug you," he muttered as he did so.

"I wouldn't dream of denying you," you sighed happily. He sank his lips & nose into the top of your head and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and perfume like a man who hasn't seen his partner after spending time apart.

"Do you know how much I love you, (Y/N)?" he asked you quietly, now looking down at you.

"You tell me everyday," you murmured contently.

"It's not enough... need to remind you every chance I get," he whispered, pressing several kisses to your scalp. "You don't know how important you are to me, sweetheart. You're one of the only good things of mine that are untouched, untainted by the hideous double life I live.

"Ken, don't think about that, hm? Matter of fact: if you wanna quit and leave that life behind, then you should. It's not good for you, or for us," you whispered with a tinge of sadness in your voice.

He looked off to the side, took a deep breath, and looked back at you. "One day, I will. It pays well, and it makes our dream lives much more attainable... we could go for ages without needing to work."

You smiled sadly at him and put your head back on his chest. "Whatever you need to do, I'll support you in it. Just... promise me it'll reach an endpoint, okay? I don't wanna see you struggle just to provide for us."

"I'll do anything for you, sweetheart. Even sacrifice myself just to do so. I'll fall if it means you can rise." You looked at him one last time before closing your eyes.

"Just be sure I can catch you when you fall, alright?"

╰┈➤ "Work... so much work..." the white-haired man's face fell into the equally white stack of papers which he had to grade. Satoru Gojo prided himself on being a good teacher, however, one of the pitfalls of being a teacher involved grading all these papers. It's not like he taught some boring subjects like history or--god forbid--algebra! But, even so, he hated this part of the job.

Being a teacher was a surprisingly rewarding job for the man. Even though he initially had no expectations outside of producing good sorcerers, he actually liked the job. He got to meet some amazing students & prodigies and, if he did a good job, then he'd create an amazing generation of future sorcerers!

But, part of that nurturing process was grading these stupid papers.

When he graded one paper, another 10 would appear. By the time he'd be done with these stacks of tests and assignments, then it'd be past midnight for him.

And he couldn't let his job cut into his relationship with you--not when he made a promise to never let you feel taken for granted.

Then again, he had deadlines and other, different responsibilities to fulfill.

"Gotta get through these papers, Satoru... don't wanna spend another day in this stupid office."

"Yoohoo!"

A voice appeared from behind Gojo and he almost jumped out of his seat and hollow purpled you. "(Y-Y/N), what are you doing here at this hour?! Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack there!" He tried to pass off his initially embarrassing scare by laughing it off and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, Nanamin told me about how you'd been spending all this time cooped up in your office, and, since it's been cutting into our relationship time: I figured it'd do me some good to come and see you myself!" Before he could even respond, you pulled up a chair and sat next to your boyfriend.

"Pookie-bear, I don't want you to sacrifice your quality time for me," he retorted with a pout.

You rolled your eyes at his silly little nickname. "Every time you call me pookie-bear, it's almost impossible to take you seriously. Anyway, quality time is only quality time if I spend it with you or shopping, and shopping is never fun without you."

"It's because my wallet's limitless, isn't it?"

"Well... it never hurts you if your wallet's a bottomless pit of money, does it?" He couldn't exactly refute that statement, so he merely laughed.

"Alrighty, then. If that's how you really feel, then I suppose I can't exactly kick you out. But I must warn you, sugar-bear: it's gonna be really boring to sit around and grade all this stuff with me."

"Good thing I'm also a teacher," you giggled, scooching closer to him.

"Right, I forgot you're a teacher... probably because you teach a subject as lame as Japanese history!" he teased you, ruffling your hair.

"It's not lame--what do you even do, huh? Teach all this stupid stuff like 'cursed energy' which we've known since birth?! You might as well be teaching chemistry," you snarked back, effectively shutting him up.

"I'm so hurt!" he said dramatically, "my girlfriend thinks my subject matter isn't important..." he even put his hand on his forehead and pretended to die.

"Ate you up," you snickered, grabbing one of the stacks and looking at it. "Hmm... this stuff's not too hard to grade, but I can see why you've been cooped up in here since there's so much of it."

"Baby, I don't want you to die of boredom," Gojo whined, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. "Seriously, it's gonna make you look at me like I'm some sort of loser."

You scoffed and looked up at your boyfriend. "Satoru, it's fine. I can handle grading a couple of dumb papers. You most likely think that I'll die of boredom because of the number of papers you've graded on your own. You probably mistook the boredom as difficulty--so really, it's fine."

Gojo was now agape at your observation, given how spot on it was. "That's... exactly how I felt about it. Damn, baby, you're a smart one."

"Did you think I was dumb or something?"

"Well, no!"

"It's fine, it's fine--I'm just messin' with ya. If I was dumb, you probably wouldn't have liked me from the jump." You were already on your fifth paper by the time you were at this point in the conversation. "And, anyway, even if it is as boring as you say it is, then it'll be cut in half by my assistance. Then, we can go home, pick up some kikufuku, and then watch some stupid movie & go to bed in our new matching PJs. Now, doesn't that outweigh the boredom?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo pretended to think before he threw his hands up. "It does!"

You giggled and kissed his cheek. "I knew you were a smart one."

The two of you decided to focus on the papers and lock in so that you could get out of that room quicker. He wasn't lying; there was an immense amount of stuff that needed to be graded, and his inability to sit in peace didn't make it any easier for the two of you. He'd poke your sides, try to pull you into his lap, and almost fall asleep on your head.

"Satoru," you said in warning, "focus. If you want that kikufuku, then you'd better grade these things. We can play some music... actually, you'd probably get even more distracted."

"Aw, babe! I liked the idea of listening to music," he whined with his signature pout. "Ugh, why did I have to take up teaching!" He complained, putting his hands over his face.

"Because you make bad choices," you said while taking his hands off his face. "Now, put these fingers to good use-"

"Good use? I can think of more than a few-"

"Satoru!"

"Sorry..."

You took a deep breath. "As I was saying, put these hands to good use and keep grading, alright?" You even put your hands on the pencil he was holding and he solemnly nodded.

"Fine... only because you're asking me." He picked up his pen and started grading it again, and he actually managed to focus on his papers.

23... 24... 25...

32... 33... 34...

49... 50... 51...

Geez, how many students did he even teach?! It was actually beginning to look like he was reaching his limit with this grading effort. Many things in this world were limitless, and that included his papers

"(Y/N)-" he was about to ask if you guys were any close to being done when he looked at the number of papers that were left on the table.

They were almost gone.

"Oh," he said, rather unceremoniously. "They're... they're almost gone?"

"Hm?" you looked over at Gojo, confused as to why he was confused. "Yeah, they are. We graded them quite quickly, if you couldn't tell," you explained with a light smile on your face. "Just about 9 more, and then we can head home-"

"WOOOHOOO!!!!" he had to resist the urge to jump up from the table and run around the room, but he luckily had you to keep him in his seat.

"Easy there," you steadied him. "We still have nine to grade, so don't start celebrating just yet."

9... 8... 7...

6... 5... 4...

3... 2... 1...

"WOOOHOOO!!!!" this time, he was actually able to get out of his seat and stretch his legs. "Finally--we can go home!"

"Satoru, calm down! Don't wake up the students- hey!" He'd suddenly scooped you up off your chair and started running from the building. "I CAN WALK, Y'KNOW!!"

"Why would you need to when you're dating the strongest?!"

"This is way better than spending the rest of my days at that school," Gojo sighed while munching on his kikufuku. Naturally, he had to buy at least 9 boxes of it, just to satisfy his limitless appetite. You, a normal person, had only 2 of them.

"How do you stay in shape when you eat all that sugar and do nothing all day long?" you asked, looking at the empty boxes of sweets that he chowed down on.

"Because... my metabolism... is great!" he replied, his mouth full of the food. He swallowed all the food was in his mouth, then dove right back into his kikufuku. "Are you calling me fat, babe?" he asked, pouting at you slightly.

"Well... you're not fat; you just eat three times as much as I do."

"Well one of us has to eat! How else will these vendors stay in business?"

"Leave it to your limitless wallet and appetite," you sighed, deciding to enjoy the sweets for yourself. In the time that it took for you to finish your boxes, he had already eaten all 9 of his.

"Ahh, that sure hit the spot," Gojo sighed, settling back into his seat and stretching his long limbs out.

"I hope it did, since you ate 9 boxes," you muttered before stretching yourself. "Fuck, am I beat... maybe I should've heeded your advice and gone home instead of helping you."

He sat up a bit and looked at you through his messy white bangs. "But, if you didn't, then I'd still be at school, and you'd be all alone."

"I know, I know," you conceded, reaching out to move his bangs from his forehead. "I wouldn't have my handsome boyfriend keeping me company."

"Did you just call me handsome?" the smile on his face grew in size, and you couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Yeah, I did--because you're very handsome~"

"C'mere, you, and give your handsome boyfriend some sugar," he said giddily, already pulling you into his lap.

"You've already eaten enough sugar!" you protested as he pulled you in.

"I've got a sweet tooth, baby, and you're the sweetest thing I've ever sunk my teeth into." He finally had you where he wanted, and he couldn't resist the urge to literally latch onto you with his long limbs. "Mmm... I've missed you so much, sweet stuff. All those papers have been keeping you away from me, trying to steal me... well, guess what? A couple of dead trees have nothing on Satoru Gojo."

"Whatever you say, baby," you giggled into his chest. You simply sat there and let him do as he pleased, whether it be sniff your shampoo or give you a sweet kiss on the forehead. "Y'know what you said back there about me viewing you as a loser?"

He pulled back and looked at you. "Yeah, baby?"

"I just wanted to let you know that... there's nothing you could do that would make me view you as a loser. Even if your job may be boring at times, and even if you can sometimes act like a big baby, there's absolutely zero things that could skew my view of you. And you wanna know why that is?"

He was silent for a little bit before he realized you were asking him a question. "Yeah, I do wanna know."

You kissed him on the forehead, the cheeks & the nose, and then on the lips. "It's not because you're the strongest sorcerer; it's because you're the strongest person I know. You're more resilient than you think you are, at least mentally. You've been through so much in life, and you're still determined to build a better future for the Jujutsu world."

He was at a complete loss for words by what you were saying, the feeling of your hands on his cheeks a comforting warmth for him. "I... I don't even know what to say," Gojo's whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

You quickly realized that you might've gone a little overboard with the praises, and you let go of his face. "Shit, I'm sorry--I didn't upset you or anything, right?"

He put your hands back on his face and shook his head. "'s fine, I just didn't know where that came from, y'know? You started telling me how amazing I was out of nowhere."

Your smile softened and you pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I can't resist the urge to do so, y'know. You're just so amazing."

His shocked expression turned into a smile of his own, and he relaxed into your grip. "You're amazing too, baby. You don't view me as the strongest because of my power or my ability; you see past all that and you see the real me. And for that, I'm always gonna be the best and strongest boyfriend I can possibly be."

"That's what I like to hear, baby. Even if you're already the strongest, I'm gonna push you to be even stronger." You let him pull you in for a hug, and he enveloped you in his arms again.

"Did I ever tell you how amazing you are, (Y/N)? Because you deserve to hear it."

"You did, but you can always keep telling me, Satoru."

"Well, you're fucking incredible, sweets. If I ever forget to tell you of that, please just slap me on the face so I can be reminded."

"I'm not a fan of violence--at least not against my loved ones, but, if you say so!" The two of you giggled and he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

"God, I love you. I seriously don't know where I'd be without you."

"Don't try to imagine it; just let yourself bask in the reality of your situation, 'kay?"

He nodded decisively and turned his focus back to you and your guys's current reality. "Why don't we make our reality a little bit sweeter and... relax on something much softer?"

By the time he asked you that, he'd already scooped you up bridal style and was carrying you into the bedroom. "Give a girl a moment to decide!"

"You were gonna say 'yes' anyway."

"You've got that right," you muttered before being plopped down onto the comforter. He then laid down next to you & wrapped his lanky arms, and legs, around your frame. Within only seconds, you were stuck in a prison made entirely of his limbs. "Are you sure this is comfortable for the both of us, or is it just comfy for you?"

"You don't want my cuddles?" he asked you into your hair.

"No, I do! I just don't wanna be imprisoned by you," you said into his chest.

"Fine, fine," he relented, untangling himself from you. He still kept his arms on you, though, and he refused to let go. The two of you were finally able to relax & bask in one another's presence, and it was a welcome reward for the long day of work.

"You wanna take a shower?-" When you looked up from where you laid, your boyfriend had already fallen asleep. His handsome face looked finally at peace, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "It's too bad I need to take a shower," you said under your breath, somehow able to disentangle yourself from his prison of cuddles.

"Don't go... need you here..." he said in his sleep, instinctively reaching out for you.

"I need to take a shower first, Satoru. And, while we're at it, you should probably change into some pajamas." Before you left the room to go shower, you peeled his jacket, work pants & undershirt, somehow getting him to make it easier for you. Then, you put on the matching set that the two of you had saw while surfing through the internet. "There we go. Isn't that much better?"

"Mm..." he mumbled into the pillow.

"I'll take that as a yes," you giggled softly. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before making your way out of the room to take that much needed shower.

When you returned from the bathroom with your hair washed & dried, you saw that he'd sunk even further into his little haven of pillows. You walked closer to him, a soft smile gracing your features once more, and you crawled into bed again.

"Hey, Toru," you murmured softly. "Did you miss me?"

"Too much..." he mumbled into the pillow. "Was waiting for you... can't sleep without you... y'know?"

"I know you can't," you giggled fondly. "Don't worry, though; I'm back, and I ain't going anywhere."

"Good... now, c'mere," he said, closing his eyes fully and pulling you into his warm embrace. He was warmer than any Kotatsu table that money could buy, sweeter than any kikufuku out there, and more amazing than Christian Dior.

Quite possibly the best part about sleeping next to Satoru was getting to see him at his most tranquil. You knew that he trusted you wholeheartedly, that he'd only ever open himself up fully to you. He entrusted you with his heart and soul, and you vowed to never let either one of those precious things get hurt. In reality, you were probably the only person who could hurt them in any capacity.

Satoru Gojo looked like an angel when he slept, with his snow white hair falling on the pillow and over his eyes, and the handsomest face you'd ever seen. Finally, after taking a good look at his face, you closed your eyes and cuddled closer to him.

"So ethereal when you're at peace."

╰┈➤ The job of a Magic Knight Captain wasn't for the weak, and anyone who took up the job knew that good and well. Not only were you expected to be among the strongest Magic Knights out there, but you were also expected to lead a group full of them & ensure their safety, survival, and growth. It was a job that required brains & brawn, leadership & personableness. Magic Knight Captains essentially had to become the parents of whoever they took under their wing, but perhaps no one was better suited for the job than Yami Sukehiro.

Although he was labeled every bad nickname under the sun, and although he was the antithesis of what a Clover Kingdom citizen should've been, acted or even looked like, the Black Bulls were probably the most successful squad in the history of the Kingdom, and that was all in thanks to Captain Yami and a few of his subordinates, but he's too stubborn to admit that.

All of this was to say that the job left him fucking exhausted.

Sure, the Black Bulls were an amazing bunch of "kids;" and sure, they were some of the strongest and valiant mages out there, but they were also extremely hard to rein in and were tiring to deal with on their own. Throw them into one building and make 'em live with one another? Now, that's enough to send any man into early retirement.

Then again, Yami wasn't just any man--but he was still a man at the end of the day. A man who, despite his preachings about "surpassing your limits," had his own limits with his squad.

Magna and Luck were giving him the worst possible headache with all of their "sparring." The sparring, in question, was happening inside, late at night, when everyone was supposed to be relaxing.

It didn't help that Asta was busy screaming on his own, and it also really didn't help that Noelle was screaming at him.

It didn't help that Gauche wouldn't shut up about Marie;

It didn't help that Gordon kept making those creepy dolls;

It didn't help that Vanessa wouldn't stop offering people drinks;

None of them were HELPING!

"Can all of you just SHUT UP ALREADY?!" Captain Yami's voice boomed from where he sat. "A man tries to get some much needed rest, and he can't do that because all of you won't stop causing a ruckus! Can't you fight outside like normal people?!"

"But, it's nighttime-"

"YEAH, IT IS NIGHTTIME--SO THAT MEANS ALL OF YOU SHOULD COOL IT DOWN A LITTLE BIT!" he shouted at whoever was trying to talk back to him. He stood up, crushing his cigarette underneath his boot, and stomped out of the room without another word.

It seemed as though he was having a terribly exhausting day, and it wasn't until he literally screamed at everyone that he finally got some pace and quiet. He hated screaming at them like that, but he had reached his limit a while ago. Luckily, for his sake and the rest of the Bulls' sake, his ever-present and perceptive girlfriend, you, knew just how to calm him down.

"Is she seriously going to his room? I get that they're dating and all, but-"

"Noelle, if you want us to live another day, then just let her do her thing."

You ignored whatever Noelle and Vanessa were saying and headed down the hall to where you knew Yami was. The base was always changing in where its rooms were, but you knew exactly where Yami headed off to; nobody could sense his Ki like you could. You tried to keep the sound of your heels hitting the cobblestone floor to a minimum, but there was only so much you could do to prevent them.

When you finally reached his room, you knocked on the door to signal your arrival, and you opened the door. "Who the hell is it?" he asked from over his shoulder.

"It's your girlfriend," you replied. You didn't miss the way his tense shoulders immediately fell when he realized it was you, and you watched as he let out a sigh.

"Why're you here? Weren't you busy reading a book to catch up on your magic studies or whatever?"

"That stuff can wait; my boyfriend's temper can't, though." You locked the door behind you and took slow, careful steps to where Yami was hunched over on the edge of his bed, and you put one hand on his boulder-like shoulder. "You're tense," you remarked.

"Thought it was easy to tell," he huffed.

"Tenser than usual, Suke." The sweet nickname you gave him after he told you you could use his first name never failed to butter him up. "You must've had a really rough day, huh? Rougher than usual?"

"You've got no fucking idea, princess." After your hand worked its magic on his tense shoulder, he pulled you in by your waist and sat you on his lap. "C'mere, I wanna feel you against me," he muttered into your shoulder.

"Anything you need, I'll do for you," you reassured him. Your hand went up to his hair and you started lightly massaging & scratching his scalp, making him sigh into your embrace. His arms tightened around you to secure you to him, then loosened a little to let you breathe. "One of my favorite things in the world is the feeling of your arms around me, Suke."

"Really?" he asked, now looking up at you.

"It sure is," you said with a nod of affirmation. "You touching me in general, it never fails to make me happy."

"I'm glad I do that for you, then." A tiny smile started worming its way to his tense features, and you gave him an even bigger smile. "Hey, princess--are you a witch or something?"

Now, this question made you cock your brow in confusion. "No, not really; I wasn't exactly born in the Witches' Forest."

"You must be, because the way your touch melts me has gotta be some sorta black magic. I mean, seriously--did Vanessa teach you a spell for relaxation?"

"She didn't exactly teach me a spell, per se; she didn't teach me anything about magic. I taught that relaxation spell to myself."

"'N how'd you do that?"

"By devoting some of my time to learning what makes my boyfriend tick or relax," you giggled, making him shake his head in disbelief.

"Really, now? Well, it's working wonders on me, I must say..." he let his words trail off before planting a kiss on the exposed skin of your chest, closing his eyes & inhaling the scent of your sweet vanilla & almond perfume. "I don't deserve you, baby--I really don't," he whispered into your chest.

"'Course you do, Suke, don't be ridiculous," you scoffed. "You earned me by being an extra caring and affectionate man to me. Why wouldn't I have fallen for you? You earned my affections all on your own."

He pressed another kiss to your chest before looking up at you. "Would you say I surpassed my limits in doing so?"

You snickered at his little question. "You and your limits... yeah, you did: you surpassed your limits, and it earned you my affections."

"Damn straight, I did." He suddenly grabbed you and fell back onto the bed, making you yelp in surprise. In just the blink of an eye, you were now hovering over him, your silky hair falling onto his muscles and tickling him slightly.

"Suke, what do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cuddling my woman." He rolled you around until he was overtop of you, and he shot you a confident grin. "You sayin' you don't want me to?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then lemme cuddle." He silenced any further protests by pressing his lips to yours, savoring the honey sweet taste of your lips. "Mmm... just what a man needs to calm down..." He let his hands go up your shirt and he rubbed your sides gently, tracing circles on it. Suddenly, his exhaustion kicked in, and he got a slight cramp in his arm, making him buckle and fall to the side. "Shit," he hissed in pain.

"Suke, what's wrong? Are you hurt suddenly?" you looked at him with mild panic, wondering why he suddenly gave out.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just got a little cramp. Gimme a sec, and I'll- fuck," the pain resurged, and he clutched his shoulder in pain. "It's worse now..."

You sat up and crawled closer to him, putting him on his back. You looked at the place where his arm cramped, and you touched it gently. "Princess, don't do that, it'll hurt-" he suddenly felt all the pain leave his arm, and he looked at you in amazement. "How did you...?"

You shrugged. "I just pressed a little hard and let your muscles relax. I didn't really give it a second thought."

He looked at his arm and then at you again. "Yeah, scratch that; I really don't deserve you."

"Suke!" you chided him, making him laugh. "Hmm... it must've been from all that stress and tension you've been under--I can feel it all throughout your body. Even when you were kissing me, I could feel your muscles tense."

"Really?" he looked at his arm, then at the rest of his body. He sighed, conceding to your observations. "I guess you're right... I've been so focused on surpassing my limits, I didn't give myself a break."

"Normally, I'd applaud your efforts; but I don't like seeing you in pain because of them." You looked off to the side for a bit, wondering what you could do to make him feel any better. "I know! Since my hands are so good at getting rid of your stress and anxiety, why don't I give you a nice massage?"

"A massage? What, you'd really give this ol' brute a rub and a tug?"

"Well, don't call it that! That sounds kinda weird... Suke, it'll just be a good old fashioned massage--nothing more, nothing less. I don't want you to cramp up again, and I certainly don't wanna see you in any pain. So roll over, big boy, because I'm gonna make you feel heavenly."

"Did you really have to do all of this stuff, princess?" Yami asked as he laid down on the makeshift massage table that you'd set up in the middle of the room. He was currently lying almost completely naked on it (save for the towel covering his penis) with his arms folded behind his head.

"Be quiet and let me take care of you," you quipped, grabbing the massage oils and rubbing your hands with them. You looked over at Yami, your eyes trailing down his muscular body shamelessly.

"Are you gonna do that or just stand there and ogle me?" he asked again, this time with a cocky half-smile.

"Y'know, you really shouldn't be mean to your masseuse." You reached for his arm and unfolded it, and you began with his shoulder. "I could pull you any which way I want, make you cramp even harder."

"Please don't do that," he said, a bit panicked.

You giggled and started massaging his big shoulders & delts. "I'm just messing with you, Suke; I wouldn't wanna injure my captain anymore than he already is."

As your hand started making its way down his chiseled arm, he couldn't stop the grunts of satisfaction that escaped his lips. "Fuck, princess... that feels so good..."

"Why, thank you, handsome." You continued to massage his entire arm until you got to his hand, and you even massaged his fingers. Within just a few short minutes & touches, his arm was already feeling quite at ease.

The more you massaged him, the more grunts & groans & even whimpers that he let out. You missed not a single spot on his body, from his chiseled abs to his calves. "Fuuuuck, princess," he groaned especially deeply into the pillow, "keep it up... goddamn--your hands are a godsend."

He wasn't the only one who was deriving satisfaction from this massage; you got to touch and feel every single muscle on your boyfriend's impressive body, and that alone was enough payment. He truly had some amazing muscles, possibly the best in all of Clover. 'His biceps are bigger than my head... and his thighs are so thick--I bet he could crush a watermelon with them!' you giggled to yourself.

"Is there something funny?"

"No, not at all." You turned him on his belly, and that was when the real fun began. Pecs and abs were some amazing muscles, yes, but the back was where the glory laid. His back muscles, although quite tensed, were nothing short of incredible! He had such a wide, tapered back, and each inch of it was covered in thick muscles that he'd acquired over the years. 'I know I'm dating the man, but seeing his back never gets old!'

"Heh, like what you see, princess?" he asked from over his shoulder. He knew that you were ogling his back right now, and that little piece of satisfaction, of knowing that his girl was a huge fan of his muscles gave him all the confidence he'd need for the week.

"Yeah, I do." Your hand sunk into his upper back and started steamrolling all the kinks and tension out of his muscles, and it was like going to heaven. The upper back was where a lot of tension was held in the human body...

And yet, despite all that tension accumulated, you still got rid of it just like that.

"Fuckkk... fuck, fuck, fuck- fucking, fuck!" he laughed into his pillow, feeling like a new man already.

"Wow, am I really that good?"

"Do I even have to answer that?"

You giggled in response and instead continued on the man's back. Once the big knots were out of his body, you went to his traps, his triceps--even his butt--the backs of his thighs, as well as his calves. Not a single spot was missed by your watchful eye, and not a shred of stress remained in the man. Not only that, but he was also soft and smooth from the massage oils.

"And... there we go! Should all be done. Is there anything I missed?" you asked as he sat up.

"Nah, you didn't miss a thing, princess." He reached out and pulled you in by the shoulders, pressing a deep kiss to your forehead. "I know I don't hand out praise often, but you're my girlfriend, and you did this for me without any strings attached."

"Is someone finally saying thank you?" you giggled.

"Be quiet before I change my mind, brat. Anyway, thanks for that. It meant a lot to me that you were willing to take such good care of my body."

"Suke, someone had to do it. Your body were practically screaming in agony--I could sense your Ki from a good distance away. You snapping at everyone only solidified that notion."

"Shit, about that..." he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "You think they'll mind?"

"Nah; they'll understand, Suke. You were under a lot of stress. If anything, you deserved it, especially since they just wouldn't shut up," you said, making him laugh.

"I knew you'd take my side."

"I usually do," you sighed, retracting from his arm.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked suddenly. You turned around, only to see him reaching out for you. "I wanted to cuddle with you..."

"We can cuddle when you're not all oily and naked," you scoffed, throwing him a towel. He dried himself off, then you threw a change of clothes at him, and changed into some yourself.

"But I thought you liked seeing me naked?"

"There's a time and place for everything, Suke." After putting all of that stuff on and brushing out your hair, you eagerly jumped into your boyfriend's bed and arms.

"Now, this is more like it," he said as he pulled you in for some much needed cuddles. "I'm all relaxed and ready for bed with my beautiful girlfriend in my arms. What more could a man need?"

"Maybe some sleep?" you asked, making him dig his knuckle into your head. The two of you blew out the lamp, and he snuggled up to you, his arms & legs entangled with yours.

"I appreciate everything that you do for me, (Y/N)," he murmured into your ear. You knew it was serious when he used your first name & not his "princess" pet name.

"I appreciate that you appreciate my efforts," you hummed, looking at him. The Yami that everyone else knew and the Sukehiro that you knew were like two completely different people. Yami was the fierce warrior, proud of where he came from; and Sukehiro was the gentle giant who treated you with the utmost care. He looked at you like you were the sun and he was the crop who needed your sunshine. If he ever lost you, then there'd be hell to pay for whoever was involved.

"I'll always appreciate everything you do for me, princess, even if it's something as simple as cuddling up to me." He closed his eyes and allowed himself to finally relax, hugging your smaller frame tightly. "Goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, Sukehiro."

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 7/2/2024

HELP WHY WAS TOJI'S 3.7K WORDS also I'm editing this later, I just wanted to get the first draft out since this took FOREVER to write

[kyufessions]

customer service

synopsis: you get into a small argument with your boyfriend over facetime

pairings: idol, boyfriend! jaemin x g.n. reader

genre: angst w/ a happy ending, drabble(?)

word count: 1.1k

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

jaemin smiles to himself as he listens to you telling him about your day at work, the corner of his lips turning downward as you tell him about a rude customer you encountered today.

“you didn’t deserve that baby, i’m sorry.” he responded, propping his phone up against the extra pillow on his hotel bed as he laid against the other.

on the screen you dismissed his apology, chuckling at it, even. “don’t apologize, it’s not your fault people can’t respect customer service workers.” he watches you smile as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, taking note of the colorful marshmallows you used that he specifically filled up in the cupboard before he left home three weeks ago. “how’s tour? are you taking care of yourself? please say yes.”

nodding, he adjusts himself on the bed so his elbow is propping up his head to properly face the phone. as he lays on his side, he hates how you’re on a screen and not directly across from him or better yet: next to him. “tour is good, i just wish you were with me to experience it with me.”

you knew where this conversation was headed. you’ve had this same exact argument many times before that ultimately led nowhere but into space, never to be heard of again until months or weeks later. “jaemin-“

he grips some of his hair in his fist, not tightly but enough to grab onto it to feel a little something. as he sighs, he sits up a little more to come across more serious. “i don’t know why you don’t just quit your job.” he starts talking with his hands as he speaks, the phone moving as he continues to speak. you put down your mug on the coaster and hug a pillow to your chest to brace yourself for the same exact talk you’ve had before. “you don’t exactly love your job, you complain about it a lot. you don’t even make a lot yet you still stay there.” he lets out a deep sigh before continuing on, both of his hands taking a quick break to run through his locks and landing on top of his pillow. “i make enough for the both of us to live comfortably. lavishly even, if we wanted. you wouldn’t have to work, just stay home and do whatever you want. i don’t get-“

“because jaemin, how would that look if i just stayed home all day not contributing to the household at all while you do all the work and bring in all the money?” he stares at you blankly through the screen, waiting for you to continue. “lazy, jaemin. it would make me look lazy. and spoiled. and look like a good-for-nothing partner that doesn’t do anything but clean around the house, cook, look pretty and use their hard earned boyfriend's money. i’m not going to be that person.”

“but that’s not how you’d look!” he protests, rolling his eyes before continuing to speak. “i want you to live comfortably doing whatever you want to do-“

“then let me work, jaemin! i’m tired of having to work a stupid retail job, yes. but i also enjoy this stupid retail job, it’s annoying but it’s the same type of annoying that your job is.” you begin slouching deeper into the couch with a huff, your bottom lip pursing out slightly. “plus my job has good benefits. i don’t mind working. if you want me to cut back on my hours, fine. just say that, use your words; we’re both adults. but stop pestering me to leave my job.”

“i just want to take care of you without worry, that’s all. i don’t want you to have to worry about a roof over your head, about your next meal or clothes or-“

“as much as i appreciate that jaemin, and i really do, trust me, i feel a sense of accomplishment when i have a job. if i did not have a job, i would feel lost and out of control. and spending your money would make me feel bad because it’s your hard earned money, not mine. besides, my compact has great insurance and my coworkers are wonderful to work with- it’s a fun environment. just- please stop asking me about it, okay? i’m sick and tired of the same old discussion.”

jaemin nods, taking everything you say with consideration. you’ve told him every time how much you enjoy your job despite the complaints, but he never believed you- or maybe just refused to believe you. jaemin was a firm believer in doing things that made you happy, and if you weren’t happy then find something that did. so that’s all he was trying to do- but he sees now that he was wrong about that. he didn’t take into consideration the amount of time you’d have to spend alone while he was at practice, out at schedules, or even touring if you didn’t have a job. if all you did was stay home, at first he thought you would love the idea until he realized that that isn’t the type of person you are. you’ve been working since you were a teenager and have loved it ever since. so who was he to think your stop now?

he lays his head on the pillow, his eyes never leaving yours from the phone screen. “i’m sorry, baby. i just want the best for you, and only you know what’s best for you. so i’m sorry my baby.” you start to reassure him how it’s fine until he says it’s not. “you’re a hard worker and i love you for that, okay? i love that so much, and so much more. im sorry. i’ll make it up to you when we get back.”

you just laugh at how soft he’s become, picking back up your mug and holding it in your hands for warmth as it gets colder during the ungodly hour. “thank you for apologizing jaem, i appreciate it.” you pause for a brief moment, smiling at him. you admire the look on his face. the way his eyes are looking at you through the screen, the corner of his lips, and the way his skin is glowing so effortlessly. and all he’s doing is just laying there, freshly woken up and ready to take on the day in another random city. “i love you.”

the words bring butterflies to his stomach, the joy hard to hide as he refuses to disguise itself behind a tired facade. “i love you more, my royalty.”

“you’re a liar.” ensues an argument that goes on for another fifteen minutes before jaemin has to leave for schedules. but not before allowing you to win the ‘i love you’ game you two always play.

[arcane-vagabond]

Road To Perdition: Prologue

Road to Perdition: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

Content Warning: Mentions of alcohol, Allusions to alcoholism, Death of parents, Pessimism, Historical Inaccuracies probably. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: Just under 1.2k

Series Masterlist

Light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting shadows across the walls as your eyes slowly fluttered open. There was a stillness in the air that was all too familiar for those that lived as far out of the city as you did, nestled in the trees that scattered the farmland surrounding your home. You heard the shrill chirping of the birds as you adjusted back to life in the waking world, stretching with a grunt as you glanced over at the clock sitting on your nightstand.

It was still early, something you both lamented and thanked the lord for. You had things to do today, things that would require you to sneak past your brother who had undoubtedly passed out on the couch once more after a night of drinking himself silly. He had been like that before your parents passed, one of the many things he and your father had in common.

It had been only a couple of years since your father died, leaving your brother his illegal business of moonshining - a business you had been a part of at one point before finding other means of making money. Your father hadn’t been too keen on the idea at first, always commenting on how you seemed to have a special touch with the liquor, earning you your nickname of Moonshine or Moonie for short.

He had accepted it in stride, though. Especially when he saw the amount of your first earnings as a part-time photographer for the local paper. The camera had been a gift from a family friend, having purchased it for his son who quickly let it fall to the wayside as other pursuits caught his interests.

���Shouldn’t go to waste,” he had said, handing it to you with a small smile on his usually stern face. “Here, Moonie. You should have it.”

You had felt wrong taking it at first, but the feeling quickly left you once you held your first photo in your hand, your brother having saved up enough to set up a makeshift room for you to develop them in. That was before he started sampling his own product, of course.

“These are really good, Moonie!” Jack had grinned as he held a particularly stunning shot of a doe you had encountered in the back field one morning. She had turned to face you, and that’s when you had taken the shot, just before she ran back into the safety of the woods. You were particularly proud of that shot, but you ducked your head down in humility.

“They’re not that good,” you mumbled shyly.

You smiled wistfully at the memory before letting out a sigh as you pulled yourself up out of the comfort of your bed. You were quick to tidy up, fluffing the pillows before marching down the hall towards the bathroom. The sound of snoring echoed from your brother’s room, and you snorted in surprise at the change, but continued on.

After relieving yourself, you washed up, grimacing at your reflection in the mirror. Most girls your age had a whole counter full of makeup, but you simply couldn’t see the need for it, or justify it for that matter. No, you were saving up what little you could to make your escape. You weren’t sure where you’d go yet. New York perhaps? You’d heard there was always an opportunity for someone there. The thought of making your way in the growing city sent your stomach fluttering, and you clapped your hands against your cheeks to settle your mind.

There was no time for daydreaming. You had to focus on the task at hand. You were able to squirrel some of your earnings away from your brother’s greedy hands, and you made weekly deposits into a private bank account. People had been weary of the banks since the crash a few years back, but you trusted them more than your snooping older brother. Work had been hard for people to come by, but people were always looking for a photographer. So for now, non-essentials like makeup would have to wait.

You dressed quickly, double checking to make sure your camera was tucked away in your messenger back alongside your rainy day fund, and set out only to stop short at the sight of the living room.

Bottles were strewn all about the place along with cards scattered alongside them. Letting out a heavy sigh, you dropped your bag down onto one of the chairs as you set about cleaning the place up. You were surprised that the noise of what was surely many men hadn’t woken you up. You had had a long day, though. The fresh wad of bills sitting in your bag proof of that.

The bottles clanked together as you gathered up as many as you could, taking them out to be washed later. Coming back inside, you glanced over to observe the state of the kitchen, the sight having a growl leaving your throat before you could stop it. Plates were stacked high in the sink, and you knew you’d have to take care of them now lest they stink up the place for the rest of the day. The last thing you needed to deal with was unwanted pests in your home.

You actually enjoyed doing the dishes, if you were being honest. It was time to let your mind wander, plotting your way out without being disturbed. No one wanted to be drawn in to helping, of course. So you washed and scrubbed in silence as the noise outside picked up with the late morning. You wouldn’t get to the bank until this afternoon, at this rate. That left little time to go snooping for your next lead, which left you more irritated than before.

You drained the sink once you were done, wiping your hands with the dishcloth with a grimace. You’d have to do laundry tomorrow. Another chore left for you to take care of.

Perhaps you wouldn’t be so quick to want to leave if it wasn’t only you holding this place together. Your brother had been your rock once upon a time, but then your mother had passed due to illness and your father followed her not long after. Of course, you had been devastated, but you took it upon yourself to be the strong one after Jack fell apart. He started drinking then. It had only been one here or there, but it quickly grew into several bottles a night, and no amount of begging would get him to stop. So you quit trying.

It had come to a head only a year ago when you came home early to find your room tossed upside down, anything of value missing along with Jack. It was a week before he came home.

You had learned your lesson, and now you bided your time until you could withdraw your money and make a break for it. The sun shone down on you as you began the trek into town, dreaming of the day you would make this journey for the last time.

A/N: Just something to tide you guys over until I can formulate the next chapters of By Its Cover and Fool's Fare. I'm excited for this one though!

If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. You can find all of my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 20

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

After Yor meets Yuri on the train, she's reminded of the fact that he's "all grown up" and doesn't need her to take care of him anymore.

As I described in Part 8, earning enough money to support Yuri was the main reason Yor became an assassin. Since she didn't have the luxury to pursue anything worthwhile for herself, taking care of and being useful to others became her main focus in life. But since Loid and Anya don't benefit from her assassin work, and now Yuri doesn't either, she begins wondering why she needs to continue doing it. This question is reinforced a few times later: first, when they're on the train and she realizes how much she enjoys being with Loid and Anya as a family, without having to worry about work. And again, during her initial meeting with Olka.

When Olka tells her that she wants to get away from the dangerous life of a gangster to a peaceful, quiet life, Yor takes a moment to reflect on those words, as they were the same thoughts she had on the train earlier – thoughts of what it would be like to live a normal life with your family without all the fears and dangers that come along with being involved in the underworld.

Olka asks Yor why she's so worried about her family discovering her identity since they're just a cover-up family, which leads to a softly emphasized scene of Yor with a noticeably sad expression, as she reluctantly admits that, yes, they are a family just for show.

We know from previous episodes, like the cooking lesson and post-Fiona date, that Yor has since realized that being in the Forger family makes her happy, despite the fact that they're a "fake" family. However, she doesn't know if Loid and Anya feel the same way, especially Loid. For all she knows, he's letting her live with him as his wife more as a favor to her, and because it's convenient for their front at Eden, and not because he personally finds happiness in the arrangement. While he did tell her during their previous date that he wants her to continue playing the role of Anya's mother and his wife, Yor doesn't know whether he feels the same happiness being together as a family like she does.

Yor becomes even more motivated to help Olka when the latter mentions that she's left so much of her old life behind her now.

Perhaps her eagerness to help Olka comes from her sad resignation to the fact that she herself can't attain the kind of life Olka is heading towards, so at the very least, she wants to make sure Olka can attain it.

Meanwhile, we see just how much Twilight's spy work has "traumatized" him, to the point of being on total high alert on the ship even though Sylvia specifically ordered him to relax. Not only was he immediately suspicious of the lottery for the cruise ticket, but even after he's on the ship, his ever-calculating mind can't help but imagine the worst scenarios. He begins looking out for any signs of terrorism and dubious behavior, much to Anya's dismay.

However, thanks to her coaxing, he catches himself and makes a conscious effort to turn off the "spy mode" in his brain (as much as he can anyway).

Later, we see Yor being nervous when having dinner with the executives, obviously not comfortable in such a formal situation and still afraid that she'll be spotted by Loid and Anya. However, when given a task she knows best – assassination work – we get to see a side of Yor that has yet to be fully highlighted in the series…a side that's serious and confident, without her usual doubts and hesitations.

Her social awkwardness and uncertainties disappear as she takes on a total "in-charge" demeanor when guiding Olka and company back to the room. But Olka has spent enough time with the underworld crowd to see that, while Yor is very good at her work, it doesn't suit the sweet, gentle person that she really is. Even before the real danger starts, Olka tells her that she doesn't seem like the underworld type, and even suggests that she spend time with her family when the ship stops at the resort. Olka must have sensed from Yor's hesitation and sad expression in their previous conversation that she truly cares about them.

It's unfortunate that Yor doesn't have a permanent confidant like Olka – someone who not only knows her true identity as an assassin, but also senses that she has real feelings for what should be a "fake" family…and is supportive of that in her own subtle way. Twilight has Franky, and Sylvia somewhat, as people who know him as both a spy and as a (fake) family man. But even though they're not openly supportive of the fact that he's catching feelings for his family, they're still people he can not only confide in without having to hide his true identity, but they care about Anya's well being too. Yor doesn't have anyone like that. While Shopkeeper and McMahon know her true identity, her relationship with them seems to be strictly business. So, as brief as her time with Olka is, it was good for Yor to finally converse with someone who understands her inner feelings that she herself is having trouble realizing.

While Anya and Twilight are having dinner later, Anya mentions that it's been a while since they've eaten dinner without Yor, to which Twilight comments that it does seem lonely without her. He could have replied with any number of less melancholic responses ("It does feel weird" or "She must be very busy" to name a few). So the fact that his first thought was how lonely it felt does seem to indicate a momentary lapse in his spy facade, to which Anya rightfully calls him out and he immediately tries to deny it (with a slight but telling blush).

When they visit the gift shop, we see that Twilight is still having trouble learning how to find enjoyment on the trip, despite the fact that Sylvia made it an official mission. It's tragic to think that even when given orders to have a relaxing family vacation, he simply can't turn off the suspicions and anxiety in his mind. But his anxiousness about people potentially eavesdropping on him soon changes to concern about Anya's mental health. Similar to when he took her to work and had her play in the sandbox, he completely misinterprets her actions as displays of emotional trauma.

I love the interpretation from @sunfoxfic about this side of Twilight's character, to quote:

"His trauma really grounds every action he takes - everything he does is to protect others from experiencing the same trauma. Loid is a highly pragmatic and sympathetic man, and in that way, he's unwaveringly kind to everyone but himself."

Just like the sandbox incident, the scene with Anya at the gift shop is a prime example of Twilight's empathetic side that he keeps hidden from everyone else. Only we as the audience know how much he agonizes about the well-being of those who may have experienced similar trauma as he did. Since Anya's reactions make no sense to him, he can't help but conclude that she has her own share of deep-rooted trauma as well. And, as I've reiterated many times before, rather than express anger or blame her for anything, he puts responsibility on himself to do a better job at trying to understand her. And all of this relates back to what he told Desmond during their first encounter…that he won't stop trying to understand others.

While Yor is keeping watch that night, she has plenty of time to reflect on what happened the day before. As she sits there for hours in silence, we see that her expression has taken on the "robotic" look she had at the very beginning of the series "pre-family," back when her assassination work was all she focused on in her life. This is probably the longest amount of time she's had to continually concentrate on work since meeting Loid and Anya, so it makes sense that her eyes would start to harden like that.

However, when she realizes that she never tried to contact them, her eyes immediately light up as she imagines a scenario where she meets up with them on the ship.

She then starts to wonder why she was hesitating so much when fighting Barnaby. She thinks it could be because she was afraid, not of death or pain, but the fact that if she had gotten seriously injured, she may have had to leave the Forger family. This makes her think back to when Olka asked her why she was so concerned about them since they're just a cover-up family. As I've previously mentioned, Yor has come to realize that being with Loid and Anya makes her happy, but she's also resigned herself to the fact that that happiness can be taken away from her at any minute. So far the biggest threat to her place in the Forgers has been Fiona, but she was able to remedy that by talking with Loid. But this time the threat comes from something where talking isn't an option: an important job from Garden. This is why she tells herself that she needs to keep her priorities straight – as far as she's concerned, her personal happiness is secondary compared to the importance of the job at hand. As she continues to think about the people whose happiness she strives for – Yuri, Loid, and Anya – the same thought she had upon meeting Yuri on the train comes back to her…if none of the people she loves benefit from her assassin work, then why does she need to keep it up?

Continue to Part 21 ->

<- Return to Part 19

[balkanradfem]

So I like the Barbie movie enough to do an analysis of their feminist statements and try to get to the root of the problem! They did give us a long list of expectations women worldwide are dealing with, now let's see why they're dealing with it.

1. "We have to always be extraordinary, but somehow, we're always doing it wrong. You have to be thin, but not too thin, and you can never say you want to be thin, you have to say you want to be healthy."

This issue happens because women in practice, culture, and their real-life circumstances are still effectively living as the second class citizens, and they're viewed as servants for males, and male toys. It does not benefit us to be expected to be extraordinary, and it does not benefit us to be thin. So who benefits from it?

It's a feature of a male fantasy. Male wants to posses a woman who is trained to please him in every possible way, but she also needs to be unique and different from all other women, so he feels like he has something special. Every woman already is unique and individual, but he doesn't notice such things as personality, he needs her to be special in a way that he and his male buddies will notice! So she has to be extraordinary in something that males appreciate, but also if she is better than them at it, then they no longer feel the ease of being superior, so she's doing it wrong.

Women's ideal being thin is also a male fantasy, they've managed to pavlov themselves into finding thin women the only kind of woman that is attractive, thus the requirement on women is to be thin, even when it damages our health. Men love causing trauma to women, but to see women actually visibly struggling with it, putting it into words, saying it hurts us, that makes them uncomfortable! So they shame the language, until we phrase it as something that doesn't relate to them, or that makes it seem like it's for our own good. 'Being thin for health' makes it seem like the required starvation is for our own good, and healthy, in fact.

This could not possibly happen if we were not existing in service of the other half of population. If we were respected and valuable human beings, what is bad for us would not be represented to us as an ideal.

2. "You have to have money, but can't ask for money, because that's crass. You have to be boss, but can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas."

These are double standards that men put up for us. Even though women are paid less, own less, are globally more impoverished and have a harder time gaining money, that is no longer enough for us to completely depend on men for money; they hate this. So as a revenge for us managing to earn a bit of our own money, we now can't ask them for any, we are supposed to 'have our own', and still depend for them, but in fear, reluctant to ask or to demand. Notice how it isn't crass for a man to ask for money, it's almost expected, but for a woman, it's shameful.

Women in lead will be criticized, called out, scrutinized and humiliated like no male leader ever would be; this is to make it harder for women to feel in control and comfortable in leading positions. Male leader is supposed to step all over ideas he doesn't find useful, hell he can even squash it and take credit for it later, but if a woman doesn't acknowledge a stupid idea, she is immediately told off for 'not being a good enough leader'. Even when she's doing exactly what she's supposed to do. It's a hypocritical little game to ensure only men can comfortably lead.

3. "You're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman, but also always be looking out for other people."

This is a feature of "women existing for male convenience" problem. We are supposed to be naturally loving of raising kids, because it's convenient for males to just have their children raised for them without having to do much about it, and if this is not provided to them, then women are evil for not 'loving being a mother' when it's convenient for men that women are super into that and willing to do it for free, forever, without complaining or talking about it, because men don't like to know that it's an actual effort, they feel more comfortable feeling it's a silly little chore that deserves no thought whatsoever.

Women having careers is something men have been making difficult in any way possible, because it means women are not reliant on them for resources within capitalism, but they were not able to completely prevent us having jobs, so now they're just trying to get as much use of it as possible. If women earn money, they will leech off of that money. If women have careers, well then those women should prove that they're just as convenient, nurturing, always available, running at every beck and call, and act as if they still only exist to serve and please men. If women fail to do this, they'll again be accused of being selfish, horrible people, bad mothers, bad community members, and so on and so forth. Men of course, can ignore the entire world and do their job badly, and have a violence problem, and be addicted to p*rn, and it's fine. They're not bad people regardless of how little compassion they have for anyone who isn't them.

4. "You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane. But if you point that out, you're accused of complaining. You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood."

This is an example of psychological abuse; victims are most often told they're responsible for their abuser's actions, as if they would in any situation be able to control or influence them, which they can't. But, putting that responsibility on women will make women hyperfocus on their own behaviour, on prevention of abuse, prevention of violence, which means they will go a long way trying to please men, tiptoe around them, give them insane amount of attention and care, in hope or preventing the escalation of their behaviour - and this is exactly what men want, this is what the abuse was for. To gain that devotion and attention, with the threat of violence. If women understood perfectly that men are responsible for their own behaviour, their way forward would be to hold men accountable, to lock them up and never look back. It's only in the world where women are victims of severe psychological abuse that we try to please men into not committing acts of violence. And it never works, because men love violence, and will turn to violence at every corner, even more easily and smugly knowing they can simply blame a woman for not working hard enough to prevent it.

Men expecting women to be pretty but then punishing them for being pretty is also an act of abuse; women's exterior is being judged as if our appearance is both a statement and a crime. Men can look whatever they naturally look like, and it's not a provocation, temptation, lack of solidarity or anything worth criticizing; but any way that a woman looks can be scrutinized and a ground for moral callout. The reality is that women also just look like the way they look like, and there's nothing wrong with it. There is zero moral problems with women looking pretty or not pretty. There isn't even a problem with tempting males because males are responsible for their own actions and not toddlers who have no power to resist impulses. This is a tactics for making women responsible for male behaviour - the way she looks is responsible for what I want to do to her. Complete nonsense, they just found a way to blame her for his own behaviour.

Calling women out for not being 'a part of the sisterhood' based on their appearance is very poorly concealed tactic to turn women against each other, to distract them from seeing that men are the root of the problem. Men don't turn on each other based on appearance, and it doesn't make sense for women to be assumed to do it either; in women-only communities, it doesn't matter what women look like. Whatever women look like is never a threat or an attack on other women, men are trying to play on female insecurity and frame other women as a threat to that insecurity - when the only threat all along was men, creating ideals and standards of beauty that don't correspond to reality or nature.

5. "Always be grateful, but never forget that the system is rigged, so find a way to acknowledge that, but also, always be grateful. You have to never get old."

The waves of feminism have forced the public consciousness to acknowledge that the system is rigged, but the pressure to do something about it falls completely on women, even though men created the system, rigged it, are keeping it rigged, are using violence to enforce it, and are benefiting from it. And it's convenient to them if women do nothing else but acknowledge it's rigged and stay grateful they're still allowed to live within, we're supposed to be threatened by the fact that we can easily be killed if we step out of line.

Men are threatened by older women because mature women have experience, they are no longer easily manipulated or cheated out of their gain, they will not bow down and please men like young, inexperienced women can be tricked into doing. So they convince those young women, that being old is shameful and ugly for women. They want women to stay young and susceptible, like children that they can control and not allow any agency or free will. This ensures we stay focused on being scared of time, aging and our own bodies and nature, but not of the predators who are taking our lives as a service for themselves.

6. "Never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear. Never get out of line, it's too hard, it's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says "thank you". And it turns out, in fact, that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault."

These are lists of standards that are only applied to women, men are allowed to do all of these things and to be catered to while they're doing it. This behaviour is presented as bad only when women are doing it; if men do it, it's considered neutral, normal, intrinsic to human nature. Women being selfish inconveniences men, who are looking to exploit female selflessness. Women showing off and being proud would cut into their time showing off, they want that attention for themselves. Women getting out of line is inconvenient, since men have drawn those lines for women (those lines don't exist for men). Women showing fear makes it difficult for male predators to corner them down and have them act complacent; men don't want to see proof of victimizing women, except in private, except when they can get off on it. Never in public, never when women could potentially escape or reach for help, then it's sexist of women to be afraid.

Women getting medals, acknowledgment or gratitude again, cuts into male parade of getting all the acknowledgment, gratitude and medals, for them it doesn't make sense that they should share attention or credit with what they consider to be the 'servant class'. Men have deluded themselves into thinking they deserve more credit than women do, they don't consider us smart or capable, because they can easily oppress us, so how smart can we be? But also, they expect and demand us to be as smart and capable as necessary to resolve all of their issues, to make their life easy and pleasant and undemanding. We are forced to deal with issues they won't even look at, we often solve problems or create solution they wouldn't be able to produce, and this is when they simply take credit and convince themselves that they knew better all along. It's a 'male-delusion rules reality' kind of world for women.

After doing the biggest bulk of work on earth, creating and raising the entire human race, doing daily unpaid labour, putting up with violence, threats and constant degradation from men, after not having our interests represented by the law, education, government, economy or any other institution with any power, after spending a piece of our life being groomed and then having to spend another undoing the grooming, we are still told that everything is our fault, and that we're doing everything wrong.

This is abuse, and somebody is doing it. We are not put thru all of this for vague reasons, or for arbitrary reasons, someone is benefiting from all of it. While we're raising children, who lazes around and attaches their last names to our kids? When we're doing daily unpaid labour, who doesn't do their part? Who is staring at us while we're walking down the street, who fails to represent or even acknowledge our interests, and even our human rights? Who does the grooming, and who enables them to do it? Where do they get resources from it, who allows it to go on unchecked? How come young girls and women are regarded as such low value that we allow them to live unprotected around predators who will absolutely attempt to violate them in as many ways they can? Who fails to prevent, or arrest, or punish them?

It's not just a system of patriarchy, it'a a system of men, doing this every single day of their life. We can point the finger at the root of the problem. We have a common enemy, and they're working damn hard to keep us from realizing it.

[jadedandconfusedao3]

Professor of the Year

For the next few weeks, Regulus continued to avoid Remus, so it took him a while to realise that Remus was avoiding him.

Breakfasts, lunches and dinners were all occasions where their interaction was tempered by other people. Remus had attended and made small talk when addressed but when the meal was over, he disappeared. He had only noticed Remus was also absent because after lunch one day, he had been held up by Draco with questions about their next lesson with Buckbeak. When the conversation had finished and he finally looked up to find Remus, obviously to figure out which exit to escape from, he was gone.

He had thought it was strange at the time but didn’t think anything more of it until a week later when he got caught by Harry in a corridor, and Remus swept passed to collect Harry without so much as a second glance. The opportunity to show him his new Patronus was now apparently gone. Regulus hated to admit it, but he secretly lived for Remus’s quiet determination to get his attention and without it he felt a trifle bereft.

Instead, he sulked as he listened to Severus and Lily go on about whatever magical phenomenon, they were exploring that particular week. They really were in tune intellectually in a way that he had no motivation to participate in. They both seemed to live for work whereas he much preferred to work so that he could live. His meagre income was currently spent on alcohol and books to while away his free hours. He much preferred the comfort of a quiet nook with a good view and a novel to the latest treatise on potions.

He felt lost, lonely and without purpose.

By the time the start of February had rolled around, he was well and truly in a funk. Lily had tried her best to bring him out of it with kind words and offers for him to join her and Severus in whatever they were doing, but none of it really helped. He just ended up sitting with a book on the periphery of wherever they were, listening with half an ear.

“These class results are very impressive Lily,” Snape drawled. “You might actually have a chance at winning the bonus this year.”

Regulus jerked his head up. “Bonus?”

Severus treated him to a surprised look as though he had completely forgotten he was there. “The Professor with the highest average class marks in the year gets a five hundred galleon bonus.”

Lily placed a hand on Severus’s arm giving him a proud smile. “Sev has gotten the bonus for that last five years running.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow at Severus. “I wonder how much of that is due to your policy of only allowing students with Outstanding grades to take your OWL and NEWT level classes.”

Severus raised his nose in the air before replying snarkily, “Potions is a dangerous class, and it is not safe to have students who do not earn their keep.”

“Right,” Regulus commented, “It has absolutely nothing to do with the money.”

Severus began to bristle as Lily lay back down and crossed her hands behind her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m taking out the crown this year, just you watch.”

Severus scoffed. “You can try.”

For the first time in months, a glimmer of hope ignited in Regulus’s stomach. If he got this bonus, he would finally have enough money to have his dark mark removed. He could be free. Free from the man who destroyed his life in every way possible. Free from the reminder of what he’d done and who he’d betrayed. Free from the pain that ached every waking moment.

He wanted it more than anything.

Tapping his wand against the side of his head he asked, “When exactly is this bonus assessed and rewarded?”

Severus gave him a knowing look. “June, once the final exams are completed.”

Regulus stood closing his book with a snap full of drive for the first time in years. “If you’ll please excuse me.”

He moved toward the door only for Lily to call out. “Don’t expect me to make this easy on you Reggie! I’ve been working toward this all year!”

He paused at the door to look back at her. “I would never have expected otherwise."

Read the rest on Ao3

[rphelperblog]

King of Scars Quote RP Meme

inspired by @multistoty @stormlit @stcrmhund @amruination

book by Leigh Bardugo

“Stop punishing yourself for being someone with a heart. You cannot protect yourself from suffering. To live is to grieve. You are not protecting yourself by shutting yourself off from the world. You are limiting yourself.” 

“When the gods give you another look at the world, best enjoy it.” 

“Boys and girl who had always seemed nice enough until they developed a taste for others' tears.” 

“Everyone is so concerned with the naming of their wounds and the tending of them, It's tiresome.” 

“Fear is a phoenix... You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return.” 

“Our first job is always to survive. I won’t apologize for it.” 

“I’d like to see if an excess of irony can actually kill a man.” 

“I’ll do all of it. But not tonight. Tonight let’s pretend we’re an old married couple.” 

“I was just so excited, Finally something went wrong and I had nothing to do with it.” 

“In death, a man may become anything at all.” 

“It's a very arduous path. Who will carry my snacks?” 

“We pretend the pain isn't there, that we are made of scars instead of wounds.” 

“These people did not deserve her tears, only her anger.” 

“My only comfort is that you never could have been mine. But know that I would have gladly been yours.” 

“Women don't want to be seduced. They want to be seen and listened to. You can't do either of those things if you're thinking up strategies on how to win her over.” 

“You say exile, I say extended holiday.” 

“You've spent your life only choosing the paths at which you knew you could excel. It's made you lazy.” 

“Beware of power. There is no amount of it that can make them love you.” 

“So many of my old friends, gathered in one place.” 

“No one wants to look to closely at another person's pain.” 

“Hand me that brandy, I can’t tolerate this degree of stupidity on a clear head.” 

“To live is to grieve.” 

“Don't ask me to sacrifice the hope of the living for the comfort of the dead.”

“Progress is a river. It cannot be called back once it leaps its banks.” 

“If you listened to a man's words, you might learn his wants. The trick was to look into his heart and discover his needs.” 

“How could the world be falling apart before sunrise? It wasn't civilized.” 

“I think fatigue suits you. The pallor. The shadows beneath your eyes. You look like a heroine in a novel. "

"I look like a woman about to step on your foot. "

“If we don't dream, who will?” 

“I know how strong you are. My death will not be the thing that defeats you.”

“They need a leader, not a monster born of nightmares.” 

“Stop punishing yourself for being someone with a heart.” 

“We hope or we falter.” 

“But if you loved a thing, the work was never done” 

You are owed nothing. Steel is earned. Remember who you are.” 

“They did not look to each other for comfort. They kept each other marching.” 

“Fears are like weeds. They grow wild if left unattended.” 

“One could plot violent espionage and still hope for dessert.” 

“I like to bet on myself whenever I can. But usually with other people’s money.” 

“They would build a new world together. But first they had to burn the old one down.” 

“Is that all? Will you be taking up juggling as well?'

'Don't be ridiculous, I already know how to juggle. Literally and figuratively.” 

"You've never theatened to murder anyone for me before."

“You are strong enough to survive the fall” 

“Say something spiteful.Because I’m fairly certain I'm hallucinating and in my dreams you're much nicer.”

“It's not exciting if nothing can go wrong.” 

“Everyone mourns the first blossom. Who will grieve the rest who fall?” 

When you purse your lips like that, you look like you’ve made love to a lemon.” 

“You cannot worry about what came before or what happens next, what has been lost or what you might gain. There is only this moment.” 

“Blessing and curse are different words for the same thing.”

“Do that thing you do where you use too many words to say something simple and confuse the issue.”

 “Most of us can hide our greatest hurts and longings. It’s how we survive each day. We pretend the pain isn’t there, that we are made of scars instead of wounds.”

“I'm not keen on riot. Unless they involve dancing, but I believe those are usually referred to as parties.” 

“People are always looking for someone to blame for their suffering.” 

“This time I saved you. This time, I got it right.” 

“We're trained to understand the ordinary, to fear difference, even if that difference is divine.” 

“Hope was the wind that came from nowhere to fill your sails and carry you home.” 

 “Most women suffer thorns for the sake of the flowers, but we who wield power adorn ourselves with flowers to hide the sting of our thorns” 

“The monster is me and I am the monster.” 

"Everything tastes like doom, "

“My king lies bleeding. I am his subject and his soldier, and I come to fight for him.” 

"Where did he get the suit? How did he fasten the buttons? Why does he feel the need to dress for the occasion?”

“The public may forget how handsome I am.”

“I doubt it. Your face is on the money.” 

“Lay down the thorn, boy king. Haven’t you earned a bit of rest? Aren’t you tired?'

“All fuels burn differently. Some faster, some hotter. Hate is one kind of fuel. But hate that began as devotion? That makes for another kind of flame.” 

“Lost faith is the roots of a forgotten wood, waiting to thrive once more.” 

“I'd rather look at a thing squarely than let it catch me by surprise.”

“The secret... I suppose the secret is that I cannot stand being alone. But there are some places no one can go with us.”

We’ll tell each other lies as married couples do. It will be a good game. Go on, wife. Tell me I’m a handsome fellow who will never age and who will die with all of his own teeth in his head. Make me believe it.” 

“I can't change what my ancestors did. I can only hope to repair some of the damage and set us on a different course.” 

[sege-h]

Storm the Hedgecat

OC ramble time for my pinned, in case people see him on @sonic-oc-showdown​ and end up wanting to know more without digging through lots of non context art and shitposts in my Storm tag! (Tho do that if you want anyways)

I’m gonna answer a buncha questions from an ask game now and since it’s kinda long + I might end up rambling anyway, I’m putting the rest under a readmore

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

A long time ago before I was smart enough to know not to name my sonas or give them even a bit of OC backstory or they WILL become their own characters, Storm was meant to be my Sonic-sona. Back then I’d name my sonas Storm, or other words fused with ‘storm’. And since this was Sonic, I just named this one Storm. But it wasn’t long before he wasn’t my sona at all, and developed into his own standalone Sonic OC. But the name stuck.

In universe, his dad named him Storm because his bit of grey fur on blue reminded him of a clear sky with a storm cloud on it

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

In the ‘present’ time, Storm is 35. However due to shenanigans involving experiments, and an accident similar to a small contained super genesis wave, he is stuck forever looking like he did when he was 20, or younger considering he’s always had a baby face.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Nope! Storm is acearo, and uninterested in romance! If any poor soul was stuck having a crush on him, he’d be none the wiser as flirting flies right over his head, as do any advances.

He is however a very affectionate person, and likes cuddling and being affectionate with his friends. I’m acearo and uninterested myself, so seeing stories like his where two (or more) people understand each other deeply, and would do anything for each other, and where they get to be affectionate without any of it developing into romance is very important to me

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Waffles! He has good memories of his dad making them for him, and they have since developed into a comfort food for him

💼 - What do they do for a living?

He doesn’t need to do anything to get by, but he has made a company he kind of semi-runs that he makes very advanced prosthetics with. His patents come with clauses that they can’t go above a certain price, and sometimes he will just give them away to people anyway.

Nobody even knows he’s the owner save for his close circle, and if anyone else does know he’s with the company they think he’s just an engineer and the boss’ personal assistant. He’d prefer it stays that way, since he values his privacy

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Yes! He participates in underground fights. He gets really frustrated sometimes, and he’d rather blow off steam that way. It also started out as a way for him to earn his own money on the side so he wouldn’t feel like he’s relying entirely on his brother.

He also likes tinkering with machines. It’s a good distraction and something he likes doing. He likes coming up with concepts for weaponized robotic arms (these are never for sale), whether they make it past the blueprints and prototypes depends entirely on if they hold his interest or not. Sometimes he makes ones he actually uses.

He plays guitar whenever the mood strikes also.

🎯 -What do they do best?

In his own opinion? Fighting!

Storm is an individual that isn’t very confident- but the one thing that’s an exception to this are his fighting skills! Even when he loses, he’s not hard on himself over it like with other things, and sees it instead as something that was fun and that he can learn from. He’s also an excellent swordsman

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Loves:

Fighting/sparring, tinkering with machines, eating homecooked food, cuddling with his closest friends, learning new things about other zones/dimensions and how they’re different from his, playing guitar, listening to friends talk about their interests, listening to loved ones sing, going on motorcycle joyrides with V, driving his truck, causing (non-malicious) chaos- especially in the lives of people he finds annoying

Hates:

Doing mathematical calculations, listening to arrogant people talk, eating spicy stuff, fighting people that were given no choice BUT to fight, looking up at tall people (friends are an exception), being surrounded by water/being on boats, going to the hospital

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Getting to watch/listen to his dad play the guitar just for him. It’s what made him want to learn it himself

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

The day he almost lost his brother. This memory only got worse down the line as he ran into an evil alternate of his- their lives/timelines had been the same up until that point. Storm is all too aware of exactly the moment his alternate chose his path, and that he himself had been seconds away from it, with the only thing saving him and everyone else around him being that his brother took in another breath and came back.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

It’s pretty close! Artistic growth aside, his quills used to be longer and less messy, his bangs were also less messy, he had no pants, his boots used to be shoes, and he had a triangular bandana. He still had the smaller back quill though, and though you can’t see it here he used to have a huge scar on his chest.

His color scheme has stayed relatively the same, it’s not as pale anymore now that I have a better grasp of colors and coloring digitally

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

The Sonic franchise obv- though he was also made as my first non recolor OC! I’d had plenty of recolor OCs, and I’d had a bit of a pause between making them and Storm. So when I decided to make another OC I decided to finally make one where I wouldn’t be recoloring a Sonic, Tails, or Knuckles base

The current iteration of Storm was inspired by me seeing the GUN truck from Generations in 2011, the one with the saws, and thinking ‘who would drive that truck?’ and then putting my blorbo in the drivers seat

Here’s a character inspiration meme I did some months ago that also puts together some of his inspirations-- not all of these are direct inspirations and are rather characters I found later on that were similar to Storm and that I could point to for people to better understand him like ‘see this thing this character does? That’s what Storm’s like’

(I’ve since watched the original ‘98 Trigun anime, and Vash would DEFINITELY go on there now. I didn’t know anything about him before, but there’s just so many parallels between him and Storm)

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

I don’t really slot my OCs into genres, since I feel like that can get pretty limiting for me. Like I could say shonen, but even that only fits as far as ‘character getting stronger as the story progresses, also seemingly has willpower and friendship powers’

Maybe whatever Trigun ‘98 has going on?? SHDGSH A mix of tragedy and comedy, a story about a seemingly goofy that’s more than he seems, from his life to his skillset

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Storm is cis but doesn’t care much for any gender roles or how he presents himself, and he’s acearo!

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

He has no biological siblings, but has a few that are either adoptive siblings or adoptive sibling adjacent! Exe (who belongs to rMADA on FA) and is his oldest adoptive family (though Storm no longer remembers the early years before he met Exe again)

V (who belongs to riftclaw on here and is also part of the tournament!)- they both consider each other ‘pack’, but there’s enough sibling energy here that Storm can introduce himself like either Vs brother or weird sibling if it’s easier.

Luka (who also belongs to riftclaw) who he tends to have sibling “arguments” with a lot, even though at the end of the day they’ll cuddle together (while still “arguing”). It lets Luka let out a lot of pent up energy, and Storm finds the whole thing hilarious and to be familiar territory so he’s more than happy to play along

He also has a couple alternates that he’s ran into, or will run into along the course of his story, that he considers his brothers.

He has a whole adoptive family, but these are the people that he’d label ‘siblings’ if he has to put any label on them, though that they’re family is enough for him.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

OUGH. Storm’s relationship with his dad was shaping up to be a great one, before it was cut short in a tragic accident during a training session with Exe. Atos was a great dad. He wanted his son to have everything he couldn’t have as a child- normalcy, love, and no expectations that could never be met.

After he died, things went downhill fast with Storm’s mom. Storm’s terrified of her to this day even though she’s no longer alive either.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

How long he’s stuck around, and how I can use him as an experiment to try out new art styles because I’m just so used to drawing him.

Story-wise I like that he can zone hop/travel dimensions, because I can fling him at whatever setting feels fitting, along with him meeting new people being no problem

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

TOO MUCH PROBABLY. Even when I don’t do serious art I like doing little doodles of him with stuff that pops into my head.

He’s the character I draw the most, and the character I write about the most

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

NOPE not the main version of him. There Is a verse where he’s ended up dead. But his main verse story hasn’t had him die

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

LORT for someone that flings himself at danger whenever he sees fit, he also fears a lot.

He’s terrified of deep water. He CAN swim, but would prefer not to. He’ll swim in the shallows if he has to cool off badly, but deep water makes him panic.

He’s afraid of clowns and also puppets He’s afraid of needles

Not quite a phobia, but he hates the sound of loud wind, especially when he knows a blizzard is happening outside.

He’ll panic if he wakes up to the sound of a drill

He hates the smell of whiskey

And again not a phobia, but a trigger- it’s activated if he’s sparring someone and they rest their foot on his back while he’s already down. It has to do with the day he lost his arm

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

He doesn’t quite have any! If anyone considers him a rival, it’s pretty one sided because he’s oblivious to it

His arch nemesis was the guy that took his arm, but through story progression he became his rival, and now their relationship is more of a friendship that neither will admit to. They’re sparring partners. Storm likes to annoy him

(Art by rMADA/Xx_G.U.N_xX on FA)

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Since 2011! I THINK I made the first iteration of him in either late 2010 or early 2011. But then Sonic Generations came out with THAT TRUCK, and me and my friends started doing a silly GUN Agent chat rp. So I made an au of Storm called ‘Agent Storm’ that drove the be-buzzsaw’d GUN truck. But then as the story progressed, I began to adore that version of the character so he just became the main verse for him

His story has remained fairly same-ish. Even though at the start you can see a definitive sign of that good ol ‘teenager writing angst’ type of story, I’ve left it fairly intact. I’ve only changed parts that were like ‘yeah this is too much’ or where I just couldn’t fit in some characters or storylines anymore. I like having it as a sort of timeline to how my storytelling has developed

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

17!

SOME EXTRA FUN FACTS:

-Storm was the one that added the buzzsaws and jet boosters to the GUN truck. They didn’t let him do much but transport cargo, so he started reading up on engineering and robotics and tinkering in the abundance of spare time he had. He added those thing to the truck out of boredom, and didn’t think he’d ever really use them- cargo transport is rarely ever that exciting.

But then he was in the middle of a drive when he heard over the comms that Sonic the Hedgehog had escaped captivity near his area and. Well. The rest is history

-He’s since left GUN and stolen took the truck. He and his brother Exe have formed their own team through which they feel they can help the world more. Part of their activities include tracking down facilities (that are often GUN supported) that deal in Mobian experimentation, and shutting them down/destroying them (not with the experiments still in them)

-He’s Terrified of Shadow due to events in his universe. He’s trying to be better about it

-The ‘goofy clueless idiot’ behavior is all an act

-He has a fake southern accent as part of his facade. Yeehaw. A reminant of a childhood ‘dream job’ of being a cowboy that wanders around helping people where it’s needed

-Because he can zone hop, he has a few universes where he’s decided to stick around. One of them is a game/IDW verse. He went through the events of Forces there, and his initial plan was to just help out with the war and then leave forever. But then he became friends with that universe’s Sonic whoops.

He lowkey cursed the friendship when he also went through the zombot arc, but he’s never actually regretted it

-He platonically adores Rough and Tumble just from what he’s heard about them and what little he’s seen. He doesn’t take them seriously and thinks they’re so goofy and hilarious. He’s like “LOOK at them, they’re brothers! They got each other! They think they’re doin’ crimes!

-He often introduces himself as just a cat since it’s easier

-He has an ic/rp blog here in case you have any questions and wanna ask him ‘directly’ @sentientquillbeast​

IF YOU READ ALL THIS, thank you!

This post is already long enough so I don’t regret adding one of my favorite pics of him that I did for a zine

[neoarchipelago]

HERE’S THE CONTEST’S WINNERS! FUUUUUCK IT WAS SO SO SOOOO HARD TO CHOOSE !

You guys created AMAZING characters it honestly took 2 hours and the help of my Ghost to manage to make a choice!

Thank you so much for your participation you guys make me so happy!!!!

1

Name: Lupus grey

Callname: Grim (6R1M)

Age: in their 20s 

Gender: Non binary, masc leaning

Physical appearance: They have blue greyish eyes, redish/blonde shoulder length hair, they are rather short(about 5'6), slim - not really muscular. They usually cover their face with a fox mask because of a huge face dysphoria(the mask is shown in the mood board), they also have problems expressing their emotions so the mask helps with that

Backstory: Lupus Grey had always hated cold Berlin with its odd, outrageous old buildings. It was a place where they felt anxious but also at home. 

They were a patient, forgetful, coffee drinker with pretty eyes and a slim figure. His friends saw him as "the quite kid". They really were the silent type of person, thinking before using their words. But as soon they got comfortable they got loud and outgoing! 

Lupus had a.. Not so great childhood. Their problems were belittled. They were good at school but never good enough to earn some affection from their parents. They always wanted to become an artist but later found out that they had a talent for hacking too. They used that talent and hacked shady, big companies to force them to their knees. Someday they ended up finding hacker friends- in this case: sparrow!

@muttsstuff

2

Name :Richard

Nickname :Ricky

Code name :Car-Keys

He’s into khaki clothing (gets teased a little) but the main reason was because he lost the car keys in the drain when they were on a mission (was never let down)

Male - Asian Over- weight

Deep voice Loves dying his hair tips different colours (Depends on the mood)

Lives in his parents basement, loves to play MW2 but hacks games to his advantage.

He realised his potential and started broadening his hacking abilities and got rich off it.

Living with his parents is a cover (gotta stay hidden ya know)

@happy-potat0

3

Margo ‘Bishop’ Cassell

Age: 29

Female she/her

•5’6, doesn’t necessarily have a figure but she has “child bearing hips” all grandmas love and point out for some reason. Isn’t considered small but not how society considers “fat” she wears a size 12 pants if that gives an idea. 

•From Kensington Liverpool, grew up with wealthy parents in a slightly religious background. She’s almost the definition of old money yet also getting new money. Was in chess club growing up and also took computer science classes and learned to code, took it a step up by getting into hacking to change a grade for a friend to help them out. Moved on from getting into school grades to other… not so legal information. Promised to not do it again and eventually join British military much to her parents disappointment. 

•I also like the idea of Margo having a kid

•Bishops mood board

@sapchat

4

Name: Elizabeth/Liza

Callsign: coyote

Age: 29

Gender: Female

Physical description: Definetely redhead, and tallish, still shorter a bit than the boys though, slightly chub, so ofc insecure

Backstory: Started hacking cause the government of her home country was so so corrupt, Sparrow found her hacking the same system at the same time so they found her, Lashwell contacting, thy have been working together ever since. After a mission went wrong she was sent to the UK under a fake name for protection, thats how they lost touch for a bit.

@lilacwineandthesinkingsunmain

5

@jp2gmd2137

[100lxtters]

The green armoured Daimyo

CHAPTER 1 / THE DAY IT STARTED

!! THIS STORY IS FOR 18+ VIEWING ONLY, MINORS DNI !!

AO3 I Masterlist

Fic masterlist I Next chap

You were just a cleaner at Garsa's Sanctuary when news broke of the new Daimyo who came into town, upon meeting him you realise the power he holds go further then just running Mos Espa. Luckily for you Boba Fett seems to take some interest in you, and you of course take the offer !! Reader is in her 20s !!

Boba Fett x f!reader 8.4k words It was a normal night at the Sanctuary, but news of Fortuna's death arrived and changes were about to happen to Mos Espa Dom! Boba Fett x sub! Reader Chapter warnings: Alcohol mention, masturbation Mando'a translations: mesh'la - beautiful

...........................................................

The day it happened will forever be burnt into your brain, in everyway possible.

You are on your shift, grabbing the tubes to rinse the next glass that's lined up next to the other 10. It was a busy night in the Sanctuary, Garsa managed to advertise tonight's event to even citizens on the edge of Mos Espa. The cantina was full of people shouting and cheering, drinking while laughing, in the background was Max and the band playing quietly, well they weren't exactly playing quietly, the cantina was just that loud they were being drowned out.

The kitchen was usually the quietest place here simply so you staff could hear each other if needed. As you placed the last glass down for drying you washed your hands to rid of the cleaning chemicals you just used, you could hear the buzz of the street lamps humming off the side of the building as it came through the wide window in the kitchen, giving a weird comfort sound.

You had been working in the cantina for a couple of years now, you moved to Tatooine out of fear, you had basically ran away from home. Well, ran away from the new corrupt government that was coming in. Everyone had thought that now the Empire was gone you would all be safe and free to do as you wished, until people took advantage of the empty space of government. Your parents were against it, which lead them to a tragic end, there was no point in staying there anymore, everyone you loved was gone.

Tatooine would not have been your first choice, who in their right mind would come to this dump of a planet? But that is also exactly why you came here, you would be left alone, free to find a new start in life.

It was by chance you started working here. You were going into every cantina, every shop, every market stall, and every mechanic begging for work, but no one would take you. When you came across the Sanctuary you felt out of place, everyone in here was dressed in these beautiful clothes and clearly had more than enough money.

Then she appeared, Garsa Fwip.

She was wearing this beautiful light blue dress that tied around her neck, and having matching blue fabric around her head-tails, she was absolutely stunning.

''Welcome to the Sanctuary, how can I help you today?'' Her voice was so calm, but so questioning. A feeling of judgment was coming off customers as your clothes were not the type you would wear in somewhere like this, however no judgement from her.

''I was wondering if I could speak to who is in charge?'' You asked, earning a smile and raised eyebrows ''that would be me'' Garsa replies.

You blink a couple of times, feeling stupid even though how could you have possibly known who she was. ''Oh, I'm sorry, I was just wondering if you were hiring? Please, I can do anything, I'm begging just give me a chance. I-I can't live on what I've got and I can't go home-''

''Can you clean?'' Her soft voice asks, cutting off your ramble. You nod quickly, not wanting to lose the chance. ''Well, we have just had a new job opportunity in the kitchen, somebody recently left to start their own new life too.''

Tears start to well up in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of someone finally hiring you after days of rejection. ''Thank you'' you whisper, fear of sobbing in the middle of the cantina. Her hand reached out to your arm, stroking it and guiding you towards the back.

''Let's get you sorted so you can start tomorrow, does that sound okay?'' She asked, and all you can do is nod in return. Her hands soothing your arms, calming you and welcoming you into her world.

Ever since then you have worked happily in the kitchen, hearing the same buzzing sounds every night that almost sooth you, a reminder that you have a better life then you would have if you stayed at home.

You were smiling to yourself, drying your hands, thankful no one else was in the corner of the sink currently. Allowing yourself to be in your own thoughts.

Suddenly, there was footprints moving quickly past the window, the music in the cantina had quietened. What was going on?

Curiosity came over you. You dropped the towel you were drying your hands on, and left through the staff door that went onto the streets. Following the crowd and noticing everyone was gathered in an area down the street.

When you reached where everyone had stopped, you stood on your tip-toes to see what they were surrounding. It seemed they were all looking at someone, a young blue Twi'lek woman.

Chains hanging from her wrists, barefooted, sitting in the cool Tatooine sand while everyone just stared her.

Her outfit looked like the slave outfits from Jabba's Palace, the chains kind of confirmed this, was she a run away slave? Or had she been set free? But Fortuna doesn't seem like the type to allow slaves to leave.

''Are you okay?''

''Aren't you from the Palace?''

''Where did you come from?!''

''How are you here?''

''Should we take her back to the Palace?''

''Hey, tell us where you came from!''

Questions where swimming in the air around this woman, who had yet to say much. Everyone was barking questions at her, demanding answers, but she was in silence while tears stained her face.

Her eyes glued to the chains dangling from her wrists. She was in a state of shock, both good and bad it seemed. Like a sense of relief had almost came over her.

Yet no one was actually trying to help her.

You pushed your way through the crowd, not caring what anyone around you thought. When you reached the front of the crowd it was easier to see her situation and how she was acting better. She was shaking, even in the heat, emotions coursing through her.

Slowly you knelt down next to her, her eyes slowing moving towards you, a slight hint of fear in them. Just like everyone else you clearly had no idea who she was or where she came from, but you felt extremely sympathetic towards her. Whatever had happened with her was clearly somewhat traumatic by the way she was acting, so you felt the need to help.

You knew what it felt to be helpless whilst everyone just watched.

The crowds eyes were digging into your back, but you had no care, no one else was trying to help her.

''Hey, are you okay? Do you want some help to safety?'' You ask her in a calm voice, knowing that she might not answer you, but wanting her to know you wish to help. Some people around you had quietened down, defiantly to overhear anything she says. You reached your hand out, hovering of her shoulder, not wanting to touch her in-case it made her uncomfortable.

''H-he's dead'' her soft, shaky voice said. ''Who?'' If she was from the Palace then there was only really one answer, and you knew what it would be.

''Lord Fortuna, he's... dead'' she said.

There were gasps in the crowd, everyone shocked that Bib Fortuna could actually be gone. The terrible, undeserved, selfish leader who took everything Jabba the Hutt owned in days, was finally gone.

But then the new question lingered, 'how was he dead? And who killed him?'

Like sure, he wasn't in good health, in the five years he was Daimyo he became so lazy and would constantly have his droids make him food. But this clearly wasn't his health that killed him down to the fact that this Twi'lek was here, clearly been freed.

The crowd then started barking questions about the events, some seeming to blame her for whatever reason.

Your hand lands on her shoulder gently and say ''hey, it's gonna be okay, you're safe now.''

''Come here child'' you hear from the outside of the crowd. People clear the way and your boss is stood there, with a understanding smile on her face.

Everyone quietened down, not daring to talk back to her.

''We can take care of you, lets get some food and water into you, and get you cleaned up out of those chains'' Garsa's soft voice says as she gets closer. The young woman reaches her hand up to hold Garsa's, you help her up in the prosses until she is in reach.

You watch her cling onto the older Twi'lek's arm, slowly walking back to the Sanctuary, back to safety. The crowd just watching, some still asking what happened as they walked by, but Garsa waves her hand saying ''let the poor girl rest, she is free now and that is what is most important. We will find out what happened to Lord Fortuna in due time.''

With that the crowd slowly disperses, while you're still kneeling in the sand thinking about the events that just happened.

Did that woman run the whole way from the Palace? Why did they allow her to leave? Who is this person who most likely killed Fortuna?

For the rest of your shift you can't help shake your thoughts. Garsa had took the blue Twi'lek into the private washrooms that are usually for the staff, a couple of other co-workers went off to help too by bringing a plate of food and many bottles of water. All night costumers have been basically begging the staff for information, about what happened, but obviously no answers were given for the sake of the woman's own privacy, and also due to none of you having a full idea on the events anyway.

Luckily by working in the kitchen you have been left alone by nosey costumers, only hearing your fellow co-workers complain. Of course you yourself were curious, but it feels like in the next couple of days Fortuna's killer will make some sort of announcement and claim the throne.

Honestly you were just curious on who was brave enough to get into that Palace to do it all. It's impressive either way.

Once your shift had ended you went to Garsa's office, mainly to check on the younger Twi'lek. It was so quiet in these back corridors, obviously to not disturb any work that happened back here. You felt silly, like you were being nosey, but then again you were the one who knelt down and spoke to the woman earlier, offering help when no one else did.

You knock on the office door to hear a quiet who's there from Garsa. When you say your name she comes to open the door, with a forced smile on her face. ''Everything okay?''

''Hi, yeah I don't mean to intrude, but I just wanted to check everything and see how she is'' you replied, hoping you don't sound nosey and annoying. Garsa opens the door wider to allow you in and then shuts it behind you.

''Thank you'' the young Twi'lek says in a very soft and tired voice. You look at her with concerned eyes, ''thank you for trying... to help earlier, everyone else j-just felt like they want to know how a- how a... slave was free.''

She was clearly getting choked up on her words; you'd not considered that part of it, how scary being a freed slave must be. Obviously being a slave would be a hard life, but being seen as a run away or freed slave?

The fear of someone throwing you back into that business must be a whole new fear.

''It was the least I could do'' you smiled softly at her.

She was wearing more comfortable clothing now, the chains nowhere to be seen. A more relaxed look on her face compared to earlier, but still that hint of fear still in her eyes.

''It seems like it was someone Fortuna knew who killed him'' Garsa said, your head whipped around to her, so she had some answers then? You raised an eyebrow, hoping she would tell you more.

''There were two of them, a woman who seemed like a bounty hunter. She appeared first taking everyone by shock, shooting a couple of guests, but she was also the one who freed our guest here. Then there was apparently another person, a man she thinks. He didn't say anything before Fortuna briefly spoke to him and he shot him in the chest, but that was all she saw'' Garsa informed you.

You stood there for a moment processing it. ''So they were both bounty hunters? Then Fortuna had maybe wronged them?'' You asked, knowing no one knew this answer than the two who now control the Palace.

Garsa shrugged ''I guess we'll find out more soon enough. Whoever this man is, he will announce himself as the new Daimyo sooner rather then later.''

There is a weird type of tension in the air, no one really sure what to say.

What was going to happen now?

Your name is said so you turn your head back to your boss ''you should go home, rest. There will be no need to stress over this'' she rests her hand on your shoulder and gives you a warm smile. You return the smile and nod, you then turn to the woman and give her a smile too.

The walk back home is full of many thoughts, thinking of what Garsa said to you. She knows about home, you told her pretty much instantly since she asked why you were in a rush for job. There was never any judgement, but this current situation was reminding you of home. Not wanting to have to leave another planet out of fear of war and being killed.

When you reach your small apartment you don't even bother to turn any lights on, you strip of your work clothes and climb into bed, the air now getting too warm to sleep wearing any clothes.

As you drift off you try to calm your troubling thoughts, reminding yourself that you haven't even met this new 'ruler' and what his rule will be like.

*****

It's been a couple weeks now since the new Daimyo came into town. You have since learnt the names of the two people who killed and overturned Fortuna.

Boba Fett and Fennec Shand.

You thought at first it was a joke, you had heard the rumours and stories of the feared bounty hunter Boba Fett. The man in Mandalorian armour, who worked in the criminal underworld but also for the Empire, the man who was feared across the galaxy. Yet he was swallowed by a Sarlacc the day Jabba the Hutt died. He had died that day too, or so everyone had thought.

Now Fennec Shand, you don't think you'd ever heard of her before. Since finding out about her you learnt she was a bounty hunter back during the Clone Wars and early days of the Empire, and also an elite mercenary, master assassin who worked for the top crime syndicates too. You were surprised to find out you had never heard of her, regardless of how young you are.

The young Twi'lek they had freed left the Sanctuary a week ago, Garsa had found her somewhere to stay with someone trustworthy. She, obviously, was sceptical at first, but she seems to trust Garsa and took her word for it.

Honestly, there has been such an odd atmosphere around Mos Espa since Boba Fett came, you still haven't quite relaxed yet. Like why did a bounty hunter want to rule here? What is the motive? These unanswered questions were sitting with you weirdly and they had yet to be answered.

You tried to take your mind off it as you got ready for work, throwing on your long black skirt and white shirt, shoving your black apron into your bag then heading off for work.

The heat of the twin suns comes down on you during your walk, you wonder how anyone can mange to wear so many layers of clothing on this planet. It took you a good few months to get adjusted to the weather here, constant heat, only slightly cooling down at night. Whenever you weren't working you tried to stick to dresses and short skirts, one annoying thing about your uniform was the skirt was long.

As you get towards the Sanctuary you notice the main path is different then usual, there's people tidying up and you assume a fight must have happened. There were tables overthrown, carts tipping up with fruit falling out. People are crowded into small groups, quietly gossiping between themselves.

You turn your head to look at the building a few people were pointing at and on the side of one is a burn mark, like a small explosion happened. Part of the building is missing, causing a small pile of rubble to form on the ground below.

Your eyes are almost popping out your head, has shit already gone down? Was this the Daimyo's doing? Are people rebelling?

A million thoughts go through your head as you speed up to the staff door, clutching your bag tight.

Throughout the whole cantina there is chatter, no music playing at all. Everyone in the kitchen is trying to work fast to make drinks and food. ''Hey guys, what happened out there?'' You asked, trying to mask your worry.

''You didn't hear?'' One guy says, you shake your head no. ''A group of assassins were trying to kill the Daimyo!'' One girl shouts. ''It was crazy'' another adds. ''Yeah if it weren't for his Gamorrean guards they both would've been dead'' someone else says.

''Did you see Lord Fett blow up that one on the side of the building?! It was terrifying!'' Is that what the burn mask was? Someone being blown up?!

''No it wasn't, it was so cool! Shows his power!''

Your breathing was shaky and heavy, you didn't want to have to leave planet, but this was starting to sound like home in the worse ways. You didn't want to watch a civil war to kick off again.

''Guys, can we bring some snacks out for the guests please, let's try to distract them'' the green Twi'lek appears snapping you out of your thoughts. He and the yellow Twi'lek are Garsa's assistants, so what they say goes. Everyone stopped chatting and picked up trays then started flowing out the doors.

Taking a deep breath in to try and calm yourself, you go to find your locker to get started for todays shift. As you walk towards the locker room you see Garsa, she was slightly chewing on her nails, a worried looked painted across her face.

''What happened earlier?'' You asked her in panic, her hand dropping from her mouth as she looked at you, putting on a fake smile.

''Our new Daimyo, Lord Fett, payed us a visit earlier. He wanted to see how business was going and to introduce himself, the pair of them seem like nice enough people, they actually walked here instead of being carried on a litter like Jabba used to'' she slightly laughed, ''they didn't stay for long, we of course put some credits in his helmet as a sign of respect. He left happily to carry on introducing himself to fellow businesses, and that's when everything went a different direction. A group of assassins appeared out of nowhere and attacked them both, if it wasn't for his Gamorrean guards then they both would've been dust in the sand.''

''Who were these assassins?'' You asked, wondering if she would have any idea who could've done this.

''Can't say I know, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was one of the other Syndicates who sent them, some of them have been displeased since Lord Fett came into town.''

Pondering her response in silence, trying to understand what she was hinting, would one of the Syndicates dare do something this bold to the new Daimyo?

You weren't sure how everything really worked on this planet, and honestly you never really cared enough to find out. Everything you needed to know always came from Garsa, always trusting her word and judgement. The politics on every planet was so different, and Tatooine was in such an odd area with stuff.

''Anyway'' she said, forcing a smile back onto her face, ''there is no point in worrying about it, they both made it back to the Palace safe and Lord Fett is getting any treatment he needs.''

Nodding you reply, ''well that's good I guess, I just hope they find out who sent them soon. I don't want to watch fights unfold'' slightly laugh out of awkwardness, old memories trying to sneak back in.

Garsa's hands rub your arms ''you're safe here, nothing bad will happen, I promise child.'' You smile at each other before you pull away to carry on getting ready for your shift.

The shift just dragged, hearing everyone complain about getting bombarded with questions about earlier events. It was impossible to get your mind off it, stuck in constant worry. You wish you were able to go straight up to Boba Fett and ask him what his plans with Mos Espa was, and if it would be peaceful.

The next morning you were woken by low drumming. You groaned at first thinking it was an alarm, reaching over to turn it off, but as your hand reached it you realised you weren't due to wake up for a while still.

The drumming continued, like it was traveling through the city.

You wanted to look outside and see what was happening, but you were paralyzed with fear, unable to get out of your bed. People weren't screaming in fear, so you hoped that the drumming meant nothing bad, but there also wasn't anyone cheering to encourage it being good.

What did this mean? This was new, Garsa had never told you about any of this. In the years you'd lived here you had never experienced this. You weren't sure if you were overreacting to this or not.

Then, the drumming stopped.

The city was still silent. You finally managed to peel back the covers, and slowly got out of bed to look out the window. Some people were just wondering around, like nothing was happening, and then some people were standing around trying to look at something. You weren't sure what or where.

You throw some clothes on, just a light blue knee high dress and boots, then hype yourself up to go outside. Following the streets to where you could see people crowded, noticing them all watching something.

This could be a bad idea, you could die, but you also felt like whatever was happening wasn't too bad.

Before you know it the drumming is back, you move towards the closet building for support, like it would hide you. People start moving out the way for something, and there it was.

Two Hutts, on a litter, drums around them playing.

Why were the Hutts here? Especially now? Jabba died five years ago, unless this was about Fortuna and Fett?

Your eyes are glued to them, one seemed to be wiping its head with a small animal using it like a rag, he other was using a very small fan to cool down its body. You still haven't moved away from the wall, watching them from a distance, moving very slowly. Heart arching for the people carrying the litter, imagining how heavy one Hutt must be, unable to think about two.

Once they finally move out the way you look at what direction they appeared from, your heart sinks when you noticed. They were coming from the Sanctuary.

Unsure where to go now, just watching the crowd of people and staring at the street the Hutt's just went down. Part of you wanted to check on the cantina and find out what happened, but part of you just wanted to stay put. Once again, almost stuck with fear. You hated this.

Everyone around you had gone back to normal, you assumed this must just be 'normal' then. Maybe this is what Garsa meant yesterday about how Fett didn't come in on a litter, about how when Jabba did it it was considered normal?

You don't know, completely lost in thoughts, letting time pass you by.

Taking a deep breath in, you finally get the courage to go to the Sanctuary. Your feet refuse to go quick, walking up the almost empty pathway. The door is in your sight and from what you can see everything is normal in there, already hearing Max and the band, a good sign.

As you walk through the doors you hear Garsa's beautiful voice say your name, you look towards her and give her a slight smile. ''Why are you here at this hour? You should be resting'' the care in her voice brings you so much warmth.

''Those damn Hutt's woke me with their drums'' you reply, slightly laughing because how would they not have woken you. She nods, laughing herself. ''Speaking of, why were they here?''

She looks at you like you should know, ''Lord Fett, of course'' the tiredness coming through. The reply doesn't surprise you since you yourself had suspected it. This is when you realise she is still in yesterdays clothes, has she been here all night?

''Garsa, have you slept yet?'' Worrying for your bosses health and wellbeing.

A scoff escapes her, ''not had the chance yet, since last night I got news of the Twin Hutt's laying claim to this territory and where on their way. Before I had chance to even think of going home Lord Fett and Mistress Shand turned up, demanding answers since the Mayor wants to put this on my head'' the annoyance in her voice coming out at the end of the sentence. You can understand it though, why was the Mayor trying to involve her?

''But anyway, I informed Lord Fett on this and as I did so the Twins turned up. We all watched from inside here, they seemed to threaten him and have Black Krrsantan on their side too, as a bodyguard almost'' she carries on, but that name goes over your head, she says it so casually you feel like you're meant to know who that is.

She sighs and slowly moves towards the back offices with you to carry on talking. ''In some better news, we have an opportunity tonight. Lord Fett has requested our services in the Palace'' she says as she shuts the staff door. You rise an eyebrow at her ''what do you mean?''

''Due to the way some of the Syndicates have been acting, and now this situation with the Hutt's, he wants to hold a party in the Palace to allow the community to get to know him. See what type of Daimyo he is to the people of Mos Espa'' she stops at her office, looking at you with a sparkle in her eyes, ''he wants to hire some of the kitchen and bar staff for the night, and if all goes well he wants to give some job opportunities for people too.''

''And I was wondering if you would come tonight? Since you are our best cleaner'' she laughs.

''Will you be there?'' You ask, wanting to know if there will be a familiar face there to ground you, otherwise you might spiral due to this changing your days plan.

''Of course I will be, I'm curious on what Mistress Shand does on her space time'' Garsa smirks. You giggle and ask ''why do you want to know? Is she a beautiful lady?''

You watch blush sneak onto your bosses cheeks, and you can't help but laugh. In the years you've known Garsa now you've never seen her react this way to a woman, sure you've seen her blush and giggle with other women, but to this extent? Oh, she was crushing!

''Aww, well yes I will defiantly come tonight now as I need to watch you gush over her'' you smirk.

Plus, you'd like to get a chance to see what type of ruler Boba Fett will be.

You head home to get ready for tonight, since you are cleaning crew you don't have to get there until an hour beforehand. The dress code was to dress nice, but basically wear an apron over it.

When you jump out the shower you search your closet for an outfit, letting your wet hair drip down your back. The outfit you pick out is a knee length, dark green dress that hugged your body so your apron would fit comfortably over it, and a pair of brown ankle boots. You thought why not show off all your body to others, you don't get many opportunities to nowadays to meet new people.

Garsa had got a vehicle for you all to travel there in since not all of you owned your own, including yourself. Plus it meant no-one was covered in sand when turning up to the Palace.

The trip there was chatty, everyone gossiping between themselves. Some wondering what the night would entail, others just wondering what the Palace is like as none of you have been.

You had been told how large the Dune Sea was, but until now you didn't know, you have never left Mos Espa in the time you'd lived here. The endless sands passing you by, bringing a weird anxiety with the sights.

Nothing but the sands for miles and miles.

The thoughts of that young Twi'lek woman walking the whole way through this saddens you, you wonder how long is must have taken for her to get to safety.

All thoughts are broken when you see the Palace come into view. The wider tower coming into view first, a small one to the side and a larger one peaking from behind. The red and dark brown stone covering the building, defiantly damage from decades of burning under the suns.

The whole vehicle going quiet in awe, this was really happening, we were working in this Palace tonight.

Garsa greats you all at the entrance as the vehicles comes to a stop. She had came earlier with the cooking and bar crew to help them settle in easier. The group of you are guided into the Palace with Garsa at the front, allowing her to show you all the way.

Considering this place was a Palace it didn't over-ally seem that way, no sign of 'royalty'. Your eyes are just staring at the interior, the design was odd, you wonder if this was Jabba, Fortuna or Fett's choice of design.

The Palace was massive, obviously you knew that from the exterior, but being inside you felt tiny and almost insignificant. The building held so much power, but also some despair too. The memories of the multiple rulers who have probably lived here, claiming the territory across the sea for decades.

There were so many shady and sketchy corners, most likely where hunters used to chat and do dodgy deals. You wonder how much of the bounty hunter world carried on through here, if it all changed when Fett became in charge. Sure it changed when Fortuna was in charge, but he wasn't a hunter himself, just a lazy majordomo.

So far you were yet to see anyone, no staff, no guards, and obviously no hunters.

Part of you wondered what must go on in this Palace, did they have any activates to kill time? Surely it must be boring having meetings after meetings constantly.

You realise you've reached a set of slightly twirling stairs, watching your group descend first. You are the last person in the group now due to walking slower to take in your surroundings, and being lost in your own thoughts.

''Lord Fett, the rest of Madam Garsa's crew is here'' you hear a smelter droid say as Garsa starts to reach the bottom of the stairs.

Panic starts rising in you, you really are about to meet the Boba Fett, the feared and ruthless bounty hunter, the man who should be dead but here he is. The legends and stories you had heard of this man has you scared, but also so curious.

As you turn the last bit of the stairs you can see the platform the throne sits on, a pair of boots parted. The famous green armour comes into your view, a Mandalorian helmet staring at you all.

You keep walking, and everyone has stopped in front of him, waiting to be addressed. Eyes are glued to him, taking him in.

His legs are parted, one gloved hand resting on his right thigh, the other sitting on the arm rest. His armour is scratched in a few areas on his chest, the only armour on his lower half seeming to be on his knees. You can see how broad his shoulders are, so much muscle and power holding in them.

The belt has so many little gadgets hanging off it, you wonder what each of them do. You notice his stomach is slightly hanging over the top of the belt, but not in a way it was being uncomfortable on his body.

Your eyes move to his gauntlets on his arms when you catch a shine on his helmet, you look up and notice he is staring at the group of you, but not really knowing where he is actually looking thanks to the visor.

The power coming of this man was hot, all he was doing was sitting there, and yet you feel the need to press your legs together.

The throne itself was made out of stone, not over-ally looking comfortable. On the end of each armrests were carvings of Rancor heads, aware that you were stood on top of the old Rancor pit that Jabba was famous for owning.

The way he was sitting in the throne, so relaxed but also clearly asserting dominance. That throne looked like it was made for him, there was no doubt it was his throne.

Your eyes wander to his right and you notice a woman standing almost in the shadows. Her hair in multiple little braids with orange thread going through it, dressed in all black leather with hints of orange.

Is this Fennec Shand then? It would make sense, since everything you have learnt about her it seems like she is keeping Lord Fett safe, clearly ready to shot anyone who wrongs him.

If this was her you can understand why Garsa was gushing over her, she was in fact a beautiful lady.

''Welcome'' a voice says, your head turning back to Boba Fett, did that come from him? His voice is husky, even through a voice modifier, you weren't sure what voice you expected to hear, but it took you by surprise. ''I appreciate you all wanting to work here tonight'' he adds, which sounds more like a statement then actual gratitude.

He carries on talking, but you aren't listening, well you are but not taking it in. You could listen to him talk for hours, his voice is heavenly and so mesmerising to listen to.

After a while you are all dismissed to the kitchen, everyone chatting away about Fett. Some saying he seems rude, some saying he seems nice. You, on the other hand, just kept any thoughts to yourself.

That man, the power he holds, is so attractive.

Once you reach the kitchen you are shown briefly where everything is, luckily for yourself it was just simple. The joys of being a cleaner, everything you need is right here.

It was obvious when the party had started, it took awhile until you all had to actually start working, waiting for the dishes to come in. The party was being held a couple of rooms over, the music quite loud and hearing people shouting and laughing.

Part of you was jealous, wanting to join them all. Yet you knew your anxiety would go crazy over a room of strangers, regardless of Garsa being in there too, herself knowing everyone.

As it slows down a bit you take the opportunity to use the fresher. You excuse yourself and wander down the hallway to find it, the smelter droid, 8D8 was his name apparently, had told you when you arrived at the kitchen where it was, but now it was trying to remember where it was.

The fresher is in your sight when your name is yelled and you turn to see your boss walking towards you with a drink in her hand, ''I need some advice'' she says. You stare at her and wonder what she could need. She grabs your hand and pulls you into the throne room where the party is being held.

''Okay, so you must know the best type of glasses, I need to know which glass will be the best to give to Mistress Shand'' Garsa asks. You blink at her, she really asked you this? You can't help but start laughing, almost curling over. She was falling for this woman so badly.

''Oh Garsa'' you laugh, looking at her now blushing face.

Once you calm yourself, finding her crush amusing, you examine the glasses and tell her to use the one with the long body and very wide top. Since Shand is mostly on the job she wouldn't want a drink she would shot, more one that she can sip.

After the spotchka was poured into the glass it was given to a droid carrying a tray. You watched it maze through the room, avoiding the guests, going towards the throne. As you look up you see that helmet staring at you.

His sight completely towards you, your breath gets caught in your chest. He may not have even staring at you, but it's like you can feel his eyes burning into you.

The helmet tilts up ever so slightly and the hand on his thigh starts to move up and down slightly, his body moving back a bit causing his legs to be more open. The subtle movement makes your own legs press together again, wetness suddenly appearing in your underwear.

''She's been given the drink'' Garsa says, snapping you out of your gaze, turning to Shand. She smirks and looks up towards Garsa, slightly nodding towards her and sipping it.

You turn to your boss, seeing her whole facing turning red out of blush, smiling back and then turning away. A slightly giggle leaves her, her hand falling onto her mouth.

''Hey, that went well then'' you smile at her.

The two of you stand and laugh about it for a little until you remember the reason you left the kitchen in the first place and turn towards the fresher seeing as you had finished helping her flirt with the assassin. Before you leave the throne room though you once again take a look to the throne and notice that it is now empty.

Shrugging it off, thinking he most likely had just went to introduce himself to others. Or maybe to tell Garsa off for flirting with his righthand man, the thought makes you laughing quietly to yourself.

Once you shut the door you sigh, annoyed at yourself for getting so turned on by a kriffing helmet looking at you. As you wash your hands you stare at yourself in the mirror and take a deep breath in, telling yourself to just go back to the kitchen, carry on your job and go home.

You pull the door open and head towards the kitchen, looking down to fix your apron. Noticing it needs to be retied you stop, reaching towards your back, when suddenly a body knocks into you. They're cold on your back, your hands are right next to their hips.

''Careful little one'' the person behind you says. Your eyes are popping out their sockets, the realisation of who is stood behind you.

Not moving as fear, but also arousal, hits you.

''Here'' Lord Fett says and then next thing you know you feel the apron tightening around you, causing your underwear to stick back to you, new wetness appearing. He grabbed the straps and tying it for you, his cold gloved hands knocking into your back, your body heating up against his slight touch.

''There, that looks more professional'' he says after tying the bow, you still standing in the same position, your hands have only just moved and are now resting on your stomach. Unsure what to do with yourself.

The sound of the spurs on his shoes move around you, like he was studying you. His eyes most defiantly moving up and down your body with you unknowing due to being unable to see his gaze. Your chest is rising fast, mouth ever so slightly opened, legs pressed together. Your body not really knowing what to do.

The way he was staring at you made you feel like prey, and he was the hunter.

A hand reached out and lifts your chin up ever so slightly, forcing you to stare right into the black visor of the green, dented helmet.

''Everything okay mesh'la?'' His husky voice asks. You swallow and nod, unsure what the last word was. He could probably see that you were nervous of some kind, and you wonder if he enjoys this, the idea of someone fearing him.

Not that you did fear him, but at this current moment you almost couldn't. This man was dangerous.

''I've been informed your the best cleaner Garsa has, is this correct?''

''Yes, sir'' the title slipping off your tongue before you can question it. He hums, his gloved fingers still holding your chin.

Such a beautiful sound.

You can feel yourself dripping onto your underwear, you were melting under his gaze and touch.

''Lord Fett, Mistress Shand is asking for your return as you have guests waiting'' the same 8D8 droid from earlier is heard in the doorway of the throne room.

''Tell her I will be there in a moment'' he raises his voice so the droid can hear him. Once the droid has clearly moved away you can feel this tension coming off Fett, his attention back to you.

His hand leaves your chin, your face is probably bright red. You suddenly miss the feeling of his hand on your chin, your eyes fall shut as he moves his hand to tuck a piece of hair away from your face. A small chuckle leaves him, causing you to almost choke on nothing.

''I shall let you go back to work, but don't overdo yourself girl. I would like you to return to the Palace in the next few days, I have an opportunity for you'' he states, and with that he leaves.

The way he carries himself while walking was a beauty to watch. What a powerful man.

You breath out, which then you realise you had been holding your breath. How long had you been doing that?

Moments pass, trying to understand what had just happened. What had just happened? And did he tell you to come back?

As you head back to the kitchen a couple of heads turn as you re-enter, you had been gone for half an hour now. ''Everything okay?'' Someone asked, you smiled and nodded. ''You were gone for a while, you sure you're okay?'' Another asked.

''Oh, Garsa grabbed me. W-wanted my help with something'' you awkwardly laughed. It wasn't a complete lie.

You did nothing but think about the event the whole time you cleaned, did you get offered a job? But would you take it though?

Of course you enjoyed working for Garsa, you adored her and she very much cared for you. However, a job in the Palace?! You can only image the pay is better, and you'll have to deal with less drunk idiots. Plus this place seems like it would have good security, especially Shand as she is constantly keeping an eye on everything and everyone.

Yet, you know nothing of these two really, would you throw away working for Garsa basing your whole interaction of tying an apron and a chin hold? Your body is telling and screaming at you yes, wanting to be close to Lord Fett again, however your brain is screaming no and to wait.

For the rest of the night you are almost on autopilot whilst cleaning, your mind completely wondered off.

''Well, tonight went wonderfully!'' Garsa's voice appeared as you placed the last spoon down. All of you turning to the doorway to face your boss who carried on talking, ''I have been told Lord Fett wants to ask a few of you to work for him, there would be no hard feelings if you were to accept! I know how rough this planet is, especially in terms of reputation. There will be a few meetings over the next few days to those who he has told me he wishes to talk to. Don't worry bar and food staff will also be asked too, so there will be familiar faces in the Palace for you all.''

Hearing this makes you feel less tense about earlier, but yet you are unaware if you are the only one he himself approached.

After a little Garsa leaves so that you can all clean up the kitchen and get ready to leave. The group heading back towards the throne room to leave the same way you came in, anxiety sitting in your stomach thinking about seeing him again.

Holding your apron over your arm, you find yourself playing with the strap to calm yourself. You follow the group up the steps into the throne room, once you reach the top you avoid even looking at the throne. Everyone is walking single file, but then you notice at the front of the group people are stopping and bowing to the throne and thanking them.

Shit. No avoiding it now.

Your eyes are fixed ahead, not daring to look at him, not until you have to.

When you are next, you stop and turn to the throne. You smile at him, bow and say ''thank you Mistress Shand, and you Lord Fett. It was an honour, sir.''

The title slipping off your tongue again. His hand on the arm rest tightening into a fist, and his body moves back.

A smirk crawls across your face. You swear you hear him mumble something, but shake it off and turn to carry on following everyone else.

As you start ascending the stairs you turn for a quick moment and notice his helmet is once again glued you tonight. A flush runs over you and you walk up the stairs quicker.

****

Once you finally reach home that night you strip of your dress and sit on your bed, thinking about Fett's hand on your chin, how he referred to you as 'little one', the apron tightening around you, his hands touching your back.

Your eyes shut as your hand travels to your underwear, moving them to the side and finding yourself absolutely soaked. Using your two fingers you start drawing small circles around your clit, throwing your head back, letting little moans escape your mouth.

With your eyes shut you imagine that helmet staring at you, him chuckling at you getting off to him slightly touching you.

Bringing your other hand to your breasts, pushing the bra away and start playing with your hardened nipple.

More quiet moans leave your mouth, you allow your body to lay back on your bed as your hand moves from your clit to your pussy.

Starting slowly at first, pumping yourself with two fingers.

Thinking to yourself how many fingers he would be able to fit in you, how much he would stretch you out because if his gloves are anything to go off two would stretch you.

You wonder if he was staring at your ass as he tied the apron. Wondering if he liked what he saw.

Imagining he was waiting for you in the corridor, wanting to see you.

You knew that was extremely unlikely, but your horny brain didn't care, you just wanted to be touched again.

The feeling of his body pressed against yours, feeling the broadness of his body, the power and dominance radiating off him.

The images of him manspreading on his throne appear in your mind, imagining how big he must be. You get a hot flush at the idea of him fucking you on the throne.

Imagining how his voice would sound praising you, how his moans would sound. You remember how he sounded when he hummed and it caused your body to react, feeling the build of your orgasm coming.

You carry on fingering yourself, moving your hand off your nipples to play with your clit, pushing yourself over the edge.

Eyes slam shut as you see stars, your orgasm seeping through you as thoughts of Lord Fett come into your brain.

''Oh Boba'' you quietly moan.

You allow your orgasm to carry out, once your pussy is too sensitive you remove your hands. Taking a deep breath in, then start to laugh at yourself. You really just masturbated and came over a man you have not seen the face of, hardly know, all because he touched your face and your back slightly.

After a little while you strip yourself of your underwear and jump into the shower for the second time today, needing to clean yourself of the sweat. As you clean yourself you once again go back to the idea of the job offer, you need to speak to Garsa and figure it all out better, have a meeting with Fett and see if it would work.

You wonder, would it work if you've just masturbated over this man? Your possible future boss?

A sigh leaves you as you dry off, climbing into your bed with your hair still damp, not really caring. Your body needed some rest, this day being so long, remembering you were woken suddenly and in fear from those damn drums earlier. Then on top of that, the whole night at the Palace, forget the events with Fett, just working in a new place for the night and having your day changed.

As you drift off to sleep you try to rid your thoughts of Boba Fett, but apparently that was impossible.

[bthump]

How about Lamb of God or Toy Soldier for the Berserk WIPs? 😄

Thank you!

Lamb of God is my AU fic idea where it's Casca's behelit rather than Griffith's. Essentially a no Promrose everything-works-out AU, some evil noble tried to frame Griffith for an attempted assassination of Charlotte and Casca impulsively took the fall for him. Officially it was stated that she was executed, but she ends up tortured for the requisite year, all her admiration for Griff and his dream turning to bitterness and regret. When Griffith becomes king he discovers her and immediately rescues her and promises that she'll be taken care of in total comfort for the rest of her life etc etc and the behelit opens. She sacrifices all of midland. Guts and Griffith survive (they've been in a relationship for years at this point), Griffith takes over the Black Swordsman angry fucked up role and Guts is more the voice of reason.

Incidentally it's never gonna get properly written, so if anyone wants to take this idea feel free lol. I feel like this goes for all my posted ideas like, if I was gonna be possessive over them I wouldn't talk about them publically lol. But since there's been recent discussion over this general concept, Guts and Griffith together after someone else's Eclipse, I figure it's worth mentioning.

“Look,” Guts said while Casca did her thing with the powder, “I actually did plan to run eventually. It’s not like I killed a hundred men just because I had nothing better to do that night.” The combination of the breeze and the medicine was doing a good job of relaxing him.

“Then why did you?”

“Nothing special. One of them shot an arrow into my leg, and I figured running wouldn’t do me any good after that.” Guts basked in the feeling of the pain fading for a moment, then decided to keep talking. She’d told him her story, after all. “But to tell you the truth, I was thinking about what you told me too. About Griffith, about how he saved you, about his dream. And I guess I get it.”

He looked down at the Hawk camp. The hundreds of little campfires looked like a reflection of the stars in the night sky from up here. It was beautiful. This was what Griffith had made. He’d gathered them all together, given them all a place, a goal - a share of his own blazing dream. Every Hawk who’d died, whose death tormented Griffith, had been happy. Guts knew it. He’d seen enough mercenary camps to recognize something different. To tell a band from a family, a job from a home. 

Each of those fires was a hearth. Each of those men was a brother, and Casca was their sister.

“Before I met Griffith, I just wandered. I didn’t have a home, didn’t have a plan except to make it through the next day and maybe earn some money chopping heads while I did it. I didn’t even have a reason for wanting to see the next day besides not wanting to die.

“And back there, in that clearing, it hit me: I was fighting for more than just my life. I was fighting for yours. For the Hawks. And for Griffith. And I didn’t just want to live because dying seemed a little worse - I wanted to live to see you all again. And… and because I think that… other people would miss me, if I bought it there.”

“Guts…” Casca’s voice sounded oddly sad. 

“What?” He turned back to look at her. She was leaning against the tree, hair fluttering in the gentle breeze, and eyes bright.

“It’s just… maybe it’s a good thing. That Griffith found you.”

Guts smirked. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that or they’ll think you’re gettin’ soft.”

“Oh shut up.”

But her words made him think of something else too. Why did it have to be you? “Hey, listen, about what you said yesterday -”

“Guts, Casca! Griffith’s back!” It was Rickert’s voice. He was halfway up the hill, Pippin just behind him. “He advanced his schedule a day when he heard you were back safe.”

Guts just smiled at Casca. That said most of what he’d meant to tell her anyway: there was room enough for the both of them at Griffith’s side.

***

Toy Soldier is a post-torture no Eclipse AU where Puck and his troupe show up while they're trying to decide what to do, and Puck tries to heal Griffith and mostly fails, only getting his flayed skin. Then Puck mentions that maybe a witch could do more for him, so they journey to find a witch. Then when they find the witch she can't do shit for him either except offer those magic communication rings as as consolation prize, but along the way they sorted out a bunch of their issues and now they have a good chance of living happily ever after anyway. Yk, the magic healing was the mutually requited pining we finally admitted to along the way, kinda thing.

Here, have a whole scene because again this is pretty thoroughly abandoned. Turns out writing is hard lol.

Casca climbed out of the wagon, taking care not to wake the two men sleeping within. Her heart ached unpleasantly at the sight of them in the dim grey light of dawn, of Guts curled protectively around Griffith’s comparatively tiny form, and while this was a feeling she had grown used to since she’d first met Guts, she’d been hoping it was one she’d finally left behind.

It was silly. She was silly, she was irrational, and she was very disappointed in herself, but she could not deny what she felt. It was like when Griffith had ridden back for Guts that very first time and she simply could not understand why - no. No, she’d known why, even naive as she was. She’d tried to convince herself that it was because of Guts’ usefulness, but even then some part of her had known it was a lie. 

But she still didn’t know why it had been Guts, of all people, and four years later she remained none-the-wiser. 

She wanted to scream at the sheer unfairness of it all. When Guts had entered their lives she had been serving Griffith with utter faithfulness, honed in body, mind, and soul as his second-in-command and sword for three years, and some upstart asshole he’d met a week earlier, who’d had to be beaten into submission for God’s sake, was the first person she’d ever known for whom Griffith would risk his life.

She had given herself to the Hawks as their leader for an exhausting year full of terror and confusion, she’d spearheaded the plan to rescue Griffith, she’d spent days on end without sleep pouring over maps and messages and listening for the raids that never seemed to stop, all the while Guts, whose bull-headedness and pride had been the very reason they’d lost Griffith, had been gallivanting around fighting and philosophizing. And Guts was the one in the wagon now, comforting Griffith.

Guts, and not her. Griffith, and not her. 

It was too much, too complicated. Feeling slightly dazed she walked off and found herself heading towards the one point of light in view, which turned out to be Judeau’s campfire. She slumped down beside him, glad he was a fellow early riser, and glad of the circle of heat in the chill morning air.

“Hey,” he said, amicable as he ever was. “You all right?” 

“Just tired,” she deflected with a smile. “It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?”

“I’ll drink to that.” He saluted her with his waterskin before taking a sip. 

“Have the others shown up yet?” she asked, ever aware of her duties as leader.

He shook his head. “I took the liberty of sending out a couple scouts to see if they spent the night somewhere nearby. Figured you have a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah, I do at that. Thanks,” she said sincerely. Judeau was a second-in-command any leader would wish for.

“Anytime. Hungry?”

“Mm, sure. I haven’t eaten yet.”

His smile grew wider. “Good, water’ll be boiling soon. How are they, anyway?” He inclined his head towards the wagon, which was planted near the centre of their camp, tents and fire pits circling it and radiating out like petals of a flower. 

Casca started in surprise. “How did you -” 

“Saw Guts go in last night, never saw him come out, and this morning his tent wasn’t even drawn closed when I walked past.” He shrugged. “I can put two and two together.”

“One of your many talents,” Casca muttered, slightly irritated at being taken off-guard. Then, louder, “they’re still asleep.”

He shot her a grin, and added in a suspiciously light tone, “you know, sometimes everyone, especially a leader, needs a shoulder to lean on. You don’t have to make the big decisions totally alone. So if you wanna talk…” 

She sighed. “Thanks, Judeau. I appreciate it, really. It’s just - there’s so much. I don’t even know if I can put it into words. Everything’s changed, all at once, and -”

“Where do we go from here?” he finished for her.

“Yeah.” 

Judeau looked at her, meeting her eyes for a moment, and then looked away and into the fire. “I’m about to overstep my bounds,” he said with uncharacteristic hesitance, “so please try not to break my nose for it. But after all this time, all your work and dedication and nights without sleep - before and after Midland turned on us - everything you’ve done for the Hawks, and for Griffith - maybe it’s time to do something for yourself.”

Instead of outrage, a wave of exhaustion swept over her. She’d tried, hadn’t she? She’d been poised to accept Guts’ offer, to rescue Griffith, see him safe and recovering, and leave with someone she… maybe she didn’t love Guts, but she could. She could feel the potential within her, the spark anticipating kindling. 

“Like what?” she asked, and, instead of decking him like she ought to, continued, voicing her thoughts. “You know Guts asked me to leave with him?”

“Ah. I’d wondered.”

She did hit him then, but no more than a playful, if painful, punch on the shoulder.

“Shut up,” she said with affection as he winced and massaged the sore spot with just a hint of theatricality. “It was before the rescue mission, before we found Griffith. I thought maybe… but it’s impossible now.”

Judeau dropped his arm and looked her in the eyes, gaze focused and intent. “Is it?”

“He wants to stay. I want to stay. I spent most of my life at Griffith’s side… I can’t leave now… now when he needs me more than ever.”

He sighed, leaned back, and glanced up and away. “I hate to say this - believe me, I do - but… he doesn’t need you. He just needs someone.” Casca’s mouth dropped open in shock. The words felt like physical blows, landing in her gut, her chest, the base of her spine. It was one thing to think that way in the privacy of her own treacherous mind, but to hear it confirmed, so easily, as though it was obvious, hurt. “What do you need?”

“Not ‘someone,’” she said, ignoring the question. “Guts.” And that was the end of her self-control. Her vision began to blur with tears so she looked down, clasping her hands tightly together. “Damn it, Judeau,” she said with a little, bitter huff of laughter that ended up sounding more like a sob to her ears. “What do you think I should do, exactly?”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. He’d probably been expecting her to shout or slap him, not lose it like some naive lovesick kid. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Answer the question.” She meant it as an order.

Maybe he heard the command in her tone despite the tears because he did. “I think you and Guts should let me take care of Griffith and leave together, to be completely honest. I’m more than happy to take him with me and make sure he’s comfortable and with friends. I owe him so much - all the Hawks do - that this is nothing.”

It sounded good when he said it like that. Griffith, with friends, taken care of by the men who had dedicated their lives to him. They would be loyal. They would respect him, even love him in their own way.

Couldn’t Griffith find contentment among men like that?

Judeau gave her a slightly awkward pat on the shoulder. “Sorry,” he said again. “But you should think about it. You’re an amazing person, all on your own merits you know. Not many women could command a thousand men - even queens are ornamental more often than not. Whatever you end up doing, just make sure it’s something worthy of our big sis, okay?”

Casca could think of nothing to say in response, face growing warm from the earnest praise; she wanted to either demure, or summon anger at the implication that caring for Griffith was beneath her, but the emotions wouldn’t come.

The pot began to bubble then and she was saved from having to answer immediately. She watched Judeau add things to the water, mostly oats with a few extras for flavour. Some green things - onions were all she recognized - and leftover bits of pork. It occurred to Casca that she’d never been much for cooking. She could roast a hunk of meat over a flame and throw leftovers into a pot of water, but ask her about spices or anything more complicated than a haphazard stew and she was lost. In her life with the Hawks she’d always been surrounded by men willing to share their suppers, first with a young girl, and then with a commander they respected.

Could Guts cook?

As a woman she ought to be nurturing. She should be comfortable with weakness and take to nurse-maiding the way mothers instinctively cared for their children - but she couldn’t even feed Griffith without spilling soup with her shaking hands. She’d broken down and cried when confronted with his silence, his damaged body, his need to be comforted. The sight of his hands, of weakness where solid strength should be, had made her want to recoil.

Guts had slept curled up against him.

When she’d seen them together in the wagon a part of her had thought, that should be me. She should be holding Griffith in her arms right now, protective and caring. But it hadn’t been - she hadn’t been the one to think to check on him before going to sleep, and if she had been, she wouldn’t’ve stayed, and certainly wouldn’t’ve pulled him close. There was a distance she had never been able to bridge between her and Griffith, and even now it remained, holding her at arm’s length. That distance didn’t exist for Guts.

Could Judeau and his men compensate for that closeness?

“What do you think of them?” She blurted the question out suddenly, words coming out before she had a chance to reel them back safely. 

Judeau looked at her in surprise, spoon pausing mid-stir. “Guts and Griffith, you mean?” She nodded and he finished stirring the pot and came down to sit beside her again before speaking. “I don’t know what to think. Maybe I felt a little betrayed by Guts leaving us too, but I guess I just don’t trust him to stick with Griffith. I think he’d be better off with someone he can stand back to back with. Someone like you.”

“I just don’t know anymore. It’s all so… murky. But hey,” she forced a smile, “thanks for being a shoulder. I’ll think about what you said.”

Judeau nodded, smiled, and Casca felt a hint of comfort, like the warmth from the fire. She pulled her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on them, and listened to it crackle.

[xxx-sir-pentious-xxx]

https://www.tumblr.com/xxx-sir-pentious-xxx/767714851984457728/accepting-story-requests

Sir Pentious with a reader who is depressed and Pentious tries to comfort them

You had died 7 years ago, life was brutal at home and you thought youd be free if you could just turn 18...

You died the day before over hiding money you earned over two years to one day move in to a friends place.

You're in heaven now, emotionally exhausted and kinda pessimistic from all the cutesy cherubs and happy people.

You plop down in a clean alleyway when you see a big ass snake winner. Naturally you pop your sad self up to follow this strange beauty. Something about him was so ancient but fresh about him. His eyes held untold pains, he turned to you and looked at you with those tired lonely eyes.

"Oh hello there sir, I hope I'm not intruding. I just.. felt like you were a good guy to walk with.. you seem nice."

He held your gaze and nodded, he seemed cautious and guided you in front of him. It seemed he didnt trust anyone behind him at all. Whether that was due to trauma or just anxiety is anyone's best guess.

"Who are you sir? I've never seen you before."

He looked upon you almost passively,

"My names Sir Pentious. Though friends call me Pen or just Pentious. Who are you?"

You consider his name, chewing on it a moment before telling him. He found your name endearing and so very fitting.

"Oh how cute I think a heard a person in Hell with that name."

You look shook up,

"Hell?? You've been to Hell??"

Pentious simply nodded and you add,

"But-but why would yo-"

Pentious stops you from talking and walking,

"Before you say a single thing more I want you to know not everyone is evil in Hell, their just lost. I have friends there and I wont tolerate any slander."

You dumbly blink, and boldly/stupidly taunt,

"Oh yeah? What would you even do about it-"

You spot a guns outline in his overcoat.

"-not that I'm gonna start something or anything."

Words just fell out of your mouth.

Pentious snorted,

"Calm down. I'm not gonna shoot you.. trust me I already tried shooting myself in the promenade point blank..."

You shudder over that matter of fact tone he took talking. He looked at you again. Those pained eyes were looking more stoic, almost holding a challenge.

"Ya know.."

He started,

"In life I was a lonely sort. One who simply observed, admired others lives.... the good and the bad.... the gruesome... then I died, and I promised myself itd live to the fullest.. I'm so tired... I'm here because I became something I should be able to look in the mirror at.."

He takes a breathe,

"I wish the man I saw in the mirror was the face I was used to. It's a bit dysphoria inducing. It reminds me of the horrors of a war I died in, when I was in Hell last. The horror of not knowing if anyone would survive. The horror of knowing no one could step up or would in a way that mattered... the horror of knowing you wont live but it doesn't matter anymore because you didnt even want to live anyway. Yet you cared for your people and you didn't fail them... Theres that comfort... The warmth and safety of heaven is my gift but I have no one to smile with or laugh with that really understands or is even remotely like me. No one here is like me. Nothing is made for me.. at least in hell things were accounted for because there was this odd layer of care and sympathy. For the most part. You could do anything down there. I made a war machine just so I could fly around and feel powerful. Cant do that now.."

You realize, you were grateful enough. At least you werent like him, no one was like him. You liked him though and offered your friendship, whatever that's worth.

You wouldnt say as much but his suffering comforted you a bit.

[clearaeipathy]

Eudaimonia

Eudaimonia--- the feeling of living well and being happy

______________________________________________________________

To the person who has somehow found this, I don't know you. You could be on the other side of the world from me or live in my neighborhood.

But I want to wish you happiness. Not for views or followers or any other selfish reason, but because you may need it. I wish for these words to find you and comfort you on the day that you may need it most.

I wish for you to be loved by everyone around you. I wish for you to have a loving family and friends that cherish you for who you are. I hope that you can be yourself around your loved ones, and treasure every moment with them, because time goes by so fast.

I hope you live comfortably and don't have to worry about money every day. It's okay if you're not rich, but I hope you have enough to get by and treat yourself once in a while. I don't know you, but I bet your amazing self deserves some relaxation once in a while. It's okay to indulge a bit. Just don't squander all your hard-earned money xD

I hope you can love yourself one day. It doesn't have to be tomorrow, or next month, or even next year. As long as you can be satisfied with yourself one day, that's enough. I hope you realize how beautiful you are. Stop being hard on yourself and degrading yourself for not looking pretty enough, for not being enough for others, for constantly failing at everything you do. You are not worthless. You may look at yourself in the mirror every day and mentally scream at yourself why you can't be more good-looking, why you can't do this, why you can't be that. Stop it. Everything in this world has a purpose, and you were born for a reason. You are beautiful inside and out, you are loved, you are special and unique. If you want something, you can do it. I've been insecure, and I can tell you that it gets better. There will come a time where you will be proud of yourself for not giving up.

I wish for you to get to know yourself. Take some time off and explore! I hope you can do the things you love to do, regardless of pressure or money. Everyone has their passion, and I think that your passion is great, whether others look down on it or not.

Don't hide anymore. I wish I could look you in the eyes and tell you that you are amazing the way you are. I write this to you because I wish somebody told me this. I wish somebody made me feel loved no matter what I did and do and will do. So I'm sitting here typing this very very long "letter" out in the hopes that someone, somewhere, who needs to hear these words very much, finds them.

It gets better. I promise. You're worth it. One day you'll look back and be proud of yourself for not giving up.

" Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

[Joshua 1:9]

[oxpogues4lifexo]

Wheezie’s Interview - KUwTC Ep1

With added BTS

BTS + Unseen footage is in Orange

Full episode Here

Other BTS

(/ means cut scene. Bold letters means host)

Beside Rose sat her step-daughter, Wheezie. Her features showed quite the opposite feeling towards the situation. A big pure smile covered her rosy cheeks, her curls placed thoughtfully around her shoulders as her glasses lent gently against the button of her nose. On her figure, she wore a blue velvet dress that came down to her knees, neatly tucked under her legs as her hands rested against them. Her pale skin contrasted with the bands of colourful beads around her wrist which matched her sisters next to her.

Wheezie lets out a quiet 'oh' when she realises she's expected to speak. She raises her shoulders as her smile reappears, pushing her index finger to the bridge of her glasses to adjust them. "Immm.. Wheezie Cameron!" She stutters as her cheeks redden; the anxiety of the rooms eyes on her taking over, but managing a sweet smile to mask her nerves as she pats down her dress hem to keep her fingers occupied.

Despite her excitement for the upcoming experience, her worries don't ever seem to budge.

/

"How're you?" He looks over to notice the voice was Wheezie, a bubbly expression accompanied her words.

Ryan can't help but light up at the question, normally he's the one to ask all the questions, the attention never being on him. "I'm.. yeah I'm good thank you! Excited to be here with you guys. It's a pleasure."

/

“Thank you for being so polite! It makes a change.” Ryan chuckles at his words as he sits opposite Wheezie in Wards office. The dim lighting making the room feel cosy.

“No don’t thank me! It’s just good to be nice. You’re here for us all week I want you to feel comfortable too!”

/

"Hi, Wheezie, right?"

"Right!" She smiles, the small act of remembering her name was enough to make her relax a little more. He was friendly, and she works well with friendly.

"Ready to answer some questions for us?"

She nods, sitting up and tucking her arms into her stomach to stop herself from fiddling, not wanting the camera or the audience to pick up on her nerves.

"I've asked Rafe and Ward this question already, but, what would you say is the purpose for this show? And what would you like to come out of it?"

"Umm." She giggles nervously, pushing her glasses up her nose as she takes a minute to think. "I'd say, the purpose of the show.. I think my dad wants to show everyone how hard he works for us! He does everything for me and my family. I think he wants everyone to know that he earns his money and treats us with it. He doesn't splash it around and show off. That's what I love about him if I'm being honest. He's so caring! And he wants people to look up to him, not fear him or hate him for his money. He's the nicest man we know. And I think everyone should know that too!"

"That was very special. Almost the same as his own answer so well done! Is there anything you'd like to get from this show? Or are you simply on it because you're part of the family?"

"No, I'm only doing it because Ward was so excited about it, and he made it out like this revolutionary idea and so I wanted to see if he was right. And I guess there's only one way to find out," She giggles at her words, slowly but surely warming up to the attention. Not finding it so difficult to think straight anymore. "But I also think it would be quite cool for everyone to see how we live. Like we're famous or something!" She enjoys her words as her lips pull into another smile, teeth on show, genuine.

/

“I think this week will be quite fun! Acting like we’re celebrities and you’re all like our paparazzi!” She giggles to herself at the thought.

“I mean I don’t really like the idea of the cameras but pretending like we’re in a movie or something will make it quite interesting.”

/

“Wheezie tell us some things about yourself!”

"Umm, I'm Wheezie Cameron! I'm thirteen, / have an older sister and an older brother. I like to write, and make bracelets with Sarah. And I also like to have girls nights with her, Rose and Rafe's friend, Bella. We bake and watch movies and stuff, it's really fun!"

"That's sweet, it's nice to hear you're all very close!"

"Yeah well I mean, I'm close with them all. But Sarah and Bella fell out a few years back and Rose doesn't particularly like her very much so it can be awkward sometimes. But they all do it for me so they just remember that and then it's all okay!"

"I knew Bella was a friend of Rafe's. Is she a good friend of yours too then?"

"Mmmmhm.. Best friend actually! Hm.." she giggles to herself as she pulls herself closer to the camera, "I actually think they like each other.. She denies it but even Topper and Kelce agreed theres something going on.." she sits back. "I guess we'll all find out together after this comes out won’t we." She giggles again as her shoulders rise with her smile.

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for that.." Ryan gives Wheezie a wink as he lowers his voice, causing a small laugh to fall from her lips.

/

“Would she also say you’re her best friend?”

“Yeah she does actually! She always speaks to me whenever she comes over and always finds time to spend a day with me each week! And because I don’t really have any other friends, it means a lot to me when she speaks to me. Because she doesn’t have to! And when I heard she was friends with Rafe I wasn’t expecting her to be so nice! She’s like a sister to me, I love her!”

“If you’re so close to her then what happened with her and Sarah?”

“Umm.. if I’m being honest, we think Callum said something to Sarah and scared her off! Because there was this one day when Bella came round without Callum and he thought she was seeing Rafe and you know doing ‘stuff’ so he came over and flipped out on Rafe. When Bella told Cal the truth, the next thing we knew Sarah stopped talking to her!”

“Is that why you think they like each other? Because-“

“No no no! No they’ve never.. I mean as far as I know! Bella said she’d tell me if anything ever happened that’s why I’m skeptical to believe she likes him. But Rafe 1000% likes her! It’s way too obvious. He’s actually nice to her!”

/

Ryan sits back crossing his legs, "Wheezie what do you do on a girls night then?"

"Um, well normally it's the full day. If so then we'd go out shopping or go on the boat or something. Then we'd come home and even bake or make pizzas and then eat it whilst watching a movie. We sometimes paint our nails and stuff too. Oh! And also Sarah and Bella share all the boy gossip. We try to get Rose to but she thinks it's weird seeing as Wards our dad but I don't get why?"

"Are you having a girls night tonight? Seeing as everyone's here!"

"What do you mean? Sorry. Bella isn't here?" She tilts her head in confusion, having to push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

Ryan sniffles, holding back an obvious laugh, "Bella's.. Bella's on the boat! You didn't know that?"

"Bella's here??" Her demeanour changes. Her body lifts as her eyes light up, a soft smile taking her lips. She grips onto the edge of the couch to hold herself from getting up.

"Uh yes she is!" There's a small pause. Ryan watches Wheezie as if she was about to say something and Wheezie waits for Ryan to move the conversation along, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the silence.

He coughs and his fingers find his hair, "Would you uh.." He contemplates his next words not knowing if he should cut the interview short or not. "Do you want to go?"

You see her lips quiver, her mouth opening and closing, contemplating the same exact thought before settling back down into the couch. "No, no.. I shouldn't! I mean.. I can see her later!" The tone of her voice was evidently disappointed. With how sweet she's been and how patient she was Ryan couldn't help but feel bad for her determination for the show; when everyone else was quick to move on.

"No it's fine you go! We had finished the questions anyways." He gives her a reassuring smile as he stands up. He lied straight through his teeth it was obvious. This whole time there were no set questions. Anyone could've known that. But with Wheezie's mind somewhere else she didn't even think to question him.

Her lips grow wider as she lifts herself from the couch, opening her arms wide to gesture a hug. Ryan takes the opportunity, gently patting her back and whispering in her ear. Barely made out by the camera, "You deserve it.."

She smiles once more, waving bye to the camera before running off quickly outside.

/

“Sorry for leaving so suddenly! I just haven’t seen Bella in a while and I didn’t think we’d see her this week! But thank you Ryan for being so sweet to me today!”