#so now it's tumblr's turn to hear my nonsense.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Chapter 2 - The Symphony of Stress-Relief

Previous Chapter 1 - The Symphony of Spite (Tumblr/Ao3)

A/N: Welcome, unfortunate souls, to The Symphony of Stress, aka corporate warfare with bonus smut, rare pairs, & questionable HR decisions. ⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ ☕ Corporate Hellscape (accurate) 🔥 Petty Revenge (satisfying) 💼 Office Politics (violent) 🛑 HR Violations (constant) 🍷 Smut (rare pairs, unexpected bottoms, & pure nonsense) I swear I started this as a simple office AU, but then Gojo happened. Now we have mafia-tier HR, workplace sabotage, and the most chaotic company retreat in history. This fic is either the peak of my writing career or a cry for help. Do I regret it? No. Do I fear what I’ve created? Absolutely. 🚨 Engagement Bribe 🚨 Comment, or HR will personally schedule you for a mandatory compliance seminar hosted by Sukuna. (It’s just him insulting you for two hours.) Now, onto the madness.

Nanami was pissed off. Sukuna was enraged.

“He made my life hell!” Thrust.

“Screwed up every project I handed him.” Thrust.

“Humiliated me in front of clients and the entire goddamn office.” Thrust.

“Gave me so much stress that teenagers ask if I need help crossing the street.” Thrust.

“For five fucking years, and I kept him around because I didn’t want him to be homeless!” Nanami snarled, his grip tightening as he let out a string of curses that sounded way too professional, even in rage.

“Forget about Gojo.” Sukuna grumbled, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair. “How do I murder Hiromi and get away with it? He’s a particularly painful ulcer I can’t get rid of. And so is Shoko.”

"Short answer? You can’t,” Nanami exhaled, sharp and exhausted. “People will notice if they go missing. Handle it internally.”

“How though? The vuvuzela stopped being useful. They just talk over it now.”

“You figure something out—I don’t know!” Nanami snapped.

Tension crackled between them, frustration bleeding into every movement, every breath. They were exhausted. The weight of the company, the stress of incompetence at every level, the sheer audacity of their enemies—it was driving them both insane.

And you?

You choked out a sound—something between a moan and a gasp.

They both froze.

Sukuna let out a sharp exhale, his fingers flexing against your throat, and Nanami groaned, his grip tightening as he thrust forward again, harder this time.

Your vision blurred.

Nanami gritted his teeth, pushing deeper, as though willing every frustration he had into his movements. “This is the only part of my day that makes sense anymore.”

Sukuna’s hand curled under your jaw, tilting your head just enough to meet his gaze while you choked on his cock. His lips curled into something dangerous, something possessive. “Tch. At least someone listens when I talk.”

The room smelled like sweat, frustration, and corporate resentment. Their voices, filled with irritation, tangled in your ears, vibrating against your skin.

“We should fire Geto.” Nanami muttered suddenly, voice gruff, low, full of something that wasn’t entirely directed at you.

You felt Sukuna still.

“…Elaborate?” Sukuna’s voice was dangerous. Thoughtful. Almost intrigued.

“Think about it,” Nanami continued, his hands digging into your hips as he moved again, more fluid this time, his frustration turning into something deeper, something satisfying. “If we fire Geto, Gojo’s life will fall apart. His only lifeline in this company is a man who hates him. What happens when that’s gone?”

Sukuna’s sharp laugh sent a shiver down your spine. “That’s evil.”

Nanami hummed, satisfied. “Finally, you’re catching up.”

Sukuna’s fingers tightened against your jaw. “You hear that, sweetheart?” His voice was low, teasing. “This is why he’s the CFO.”

Your head spun.

And they were still talking about work.

Still fuming over business deals and incompetence.

Still plotting the ruin of their enemies.

And somehow, in all of it, they never stopped paying attention to you.

Nanami was dangerously close to snapping. Sukuna already had as he came in your mouth. “Swallow.”

You did.

“Good fucking,” came the praise as he positioned himself in a way that now you were lying on his chest as Nanami continued to give you backshots.

You were trapped in the middle of it, heat pressing against your skin, their rage fueling every sharp movement, every frustrated groan.

“She had the audacity—” Thrust.

“To ask for a RAISE.” Thrust.

“A RAISE, Ryomen.” Thrust. “After filing three HR complaints against me in one month.” Thrust.

Nanami exhaled through gritted teeth. “Who, exactly, does Mei Mei think she is?”

Sukuna let out a sharp breath, adjusting his grip. “A fucking problem. That’s what she is.”

"She knows she’s untouchable because HR babies her. She can’t get fired unless she physically assaults someone in broad daylight.” Nanami groaned, tipping his head back in frustration. “And even then, I guarantee HR would find a reason to keep her just like they did when she tried to assault Ino.”

Sukuna scoffed, angling your hips to take Nanami deeper, making you moan loudly. “If we can’t fire her, can we at least ruin her life?”

Nanami let out a dark chuckle. “See, this is the kind of thinking I respect.”

You whimpered, fingers tightening in Sukuna’s hair.

Neither of them paused.

Nanami’s grip on your waist tightened. “Give her the Nishimiya authors.”

Sukuna stilled for half a second—then let out a sharp laugh, filthy and cruel. “Oh, you’re a fucking monster.”

Nanami smirked. “She’ll drown in that workload. But she won’t be able to complain without admitting she’s in over her head. Either she handles it—or HR will finally have a reason to let her go.”

Sukuna hummed, satisfied. “And if she somehow pulls through?”

Nanami thrust deeper, slower, making your breath stutter. “Then at least she’ll be too fucking exhausted to bother us.”

Sukuna laughed again, breathless, rubbing his hand down your spine. “Brutal.”

You felt insanely hot, trapped between them, drowning in their sharp words, their executive-level scheming, their singular focus that never wavered.

They were venting, plotting, and orchestrating workplace sabotage—while using you to take the edge off.

Sukuna pressed his forehead against yours, kissing you sweetly. “You're our best stress relief, you know that?”

Nanami groaned, gripping your throat gently, his lips brushing against your hair as he muttered, “You deserve every fucking thing, darling.”

---

Across the city, Shoko stormed into Hiromi’s home office, twisting the lock behind her as her heels clicked against the marble flooring like the ticking of a corporate doomsday clock. Her jaw was tight, and the sheer venom in her eyes could have killed a lesser man.

Without a word, she shoved Hiromi back against his mahogany desk, and snapped, “Eat me out or I’ll strangle Sukuna with my own two hands.”

Hiromi, who had just removed his reading glasses, didn’t even blink.

Instead, he simply exhaled through his nose—the same damn perfectly arched nose that made most of the legal interns question their life choices—and set down his pen.

Then he smiled—slow, dangerous, understanding. “I will,” he murmured, voice deep and steady as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. “But if you still want to strangle him after, I’ll help.”

That was all the confirmation she needed.

And just like that, Chief Human Resources Officer Ieiri Shoko and Chief Legal Officer Higuruma Hiromi—the two deadliest entities in the entire company—began planning Sukuna’s demise.

Hiromi—the composed, infuriatingly collected man—simply loosened his tie, shrugged off his suit jacket, and let her push him down on his knees as he began unbuttoning her pants.

The heavy weight of his mahogany desk pressed into her spine, hands effortlessly sliding her waistband down. His breath was warm against her skin, slow and controlled, because, of course, Hiromi didn’t rush anything.

Shoko, however, was done waiting.

“I mean it,” she gritted out, her fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair. “He’s…” sharp inhale “…a menace. I had to rewrite the entire handbook because of him.”

Hiromi hummed in acknowledgment, his obscenely attractive nose trailing down her stomach, brushing against her heat like he knew exactly what kind of reaction it would pull from her.

Shoko’s breath hitched.

“I had to add… a clause… about vuvuzelas in professional settings, Hiromi.”

Hiromi didn’t stop, didn’t react—just exhaled slowly against her clit.

Shoko groaned. “He tried to claim hand-to-hand combat as a valid team-building exercise. Kusakabe already hates everyone—he almost committed a homicide in a board meeting because of him.”

Hiromi sighed, long, suffering, and dragged his obnoxiously perfect nose up, pressing it against her clit like it was a legal strategy he was about to tear apart in court.

Shoko’s breath caught.

Hiromi pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her, his tongue flicking out just enough to make her whole body tremble.

Shoko fisted his hair. “And he submitted an expense report for a f—fuck—flamethrower.”

Hiromi still didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His response came in the form of a slow, calculated stroke of his tongue, combined with his dangerously sharp nose pressing against her clit, rubbing in small, insufferably perfect circles.

Shoko’s thighs tensed, and fingers twitched, barely resisting the urge to yank him closer. “I’m gonna kill him,” she gritted out.

Hiromi’s tongue flicked against her, slow, deliberate, like he was waiting for her to elaborate. He arched a brow. Acknowledgment.

Shoko exhaled shakily. “The HR department stopped trying to fine him, Hiromi. Do you know how bad that is? That means we’ve given up. We’re just letting him be a workplace hazard now.”

Hiromi—without missing a beat, because of course he was still multitasking like the overachieving lawyer he was—arched a brow and traced slow, devastating circles against her clit with his thumb.

Shoko’s breath hitched.

“The last time HR gave up on someone,” she panted, fingers tightening in his hair, “we—ah—sent out a fucking memo—”

Hiromi was barely listening now, his sharp lawyer brain entirely focused on making her fall apart.

He knew she wasn’t done venting. Knew she needed this stress burned out of her system before she threw a letter opener at Sukuna’s head in the break room.

And he was nothing if not supportive.

So, he took his time.

A slow, lazy drag of his tongue and a press of his nose made her thighs twitch. Then let out a low, nearly bored hum as she tried to keep speaking.

“He stole my fucking Montblanc laptop bag. The one you got me from Belgium, Hiro,” she gasped, her head tilting back against his desk.

Hiromi—who had already accepted that Ryomen Sukuna existed purely to piss him off—blinked once.

She knew what that meant.

Noted.

“I—” Shoko inhaled heavily. “I filed a goddamn internal complaint with COO and he wrote back, ‘We understand your frustration, but Dr. Ieiri, let's embrace the cheos.’” She had a PhD in HR.

Hiromi blinked twice.

Disapproval.

Shoko was half a second from continuing her tirade—really, she was—until Hiromi arched his nose against her just right and—

Her words died in her throat.

A low, unfiltered moan slipped past her lips.

Hiromi let out a small, self-satisfied sound. His fingers dug into her thighs, firm but not urgent, like he had all the time in the world.

And Shoko—brilliant, smart, no-nonsense Shoko—could do nothing but let her head fall back against his desk as he silenced every thought in her head.

Which was probably for the best, because across his desk, her phone buzzed.

She didn’t hear it.

But Hiromi did.

And because he was a masochist who cared about work-life balance, he moved his mouth away just long enough to reach for it.

The name on the screen made him still.

Nobara.

He picked up, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth as he answered with a smooth, utterly unaffected voice.

"Yes?"

A sharp teenage voice snapped back, "Mom, where's Mom?"

Hiromi glanced at the desk—at Shoko, who was currently too busy falling apart on his fingers to answer.

He sighed, adjusting the phone against his shoulder as he resumed his previous task.

"She's busy," he said simply.

Nobara groaned in frustration. "Well, tell her I need to see her—ugh, whatever, Dad, just tell her to call me back!"

And then she hung up.

Shoko barely registered what just happened.

He threw away the phone and got back between his wife’s legs. Then he dragged his tongue lower, lower, before pressing his perfectly arched nose right back against her clit.

Shoko shuddered—but she wasn’t done talking.

“He’s too powerful.” Her fingers tightened in his hair, but Hiromi didn’t flinch. “The only reason his bullshit makes sense to anyone is because Geto translates it into actual strategy.”

Hiromi hummed again, this time in calculated approval.

Shoko’s breath hitched as she came with a shudder. “So we remove Geto.”

Hiromi finally pulled away, licking his lips, and pressed a kiss to her belly as he stared up at her with the patience of a man who had been planning murder long before this conversation started.

Shoko’s chest heaved.

Hiromi stood wiping her down with wet tissues from his desk.

“How?”

Shoko grinned, fixing her pants.

Firing Geto was impossible—on paper. He was competent. Too competent. He single-handedly turned Sukuna’s most brain-dead ideas into actual, viable strategies. If they got rid of him, Sukuna would collapse under the weight of his own stupidity.

But you didn’t fire people because they were bad at their jobs.

No, no, no.

You fired them because it was inconvenient for them to stay.

Shoko took a long drag from the cigarette Hiromi had lit for them to share, an infrequent habit. “We start by leaking a rumor.”

Hiromi tapped his finger against his chin. “Geto has worked late every night this quarter. That means overtime claims.”

Shoko grinned. “Which means expense fraud.”

Hiromi exhaled through his nose, amused. “Not illegal. But inconvenient.”

“Exactly.”

Shoko flicked the ashes of her cigarette into a tray and handed it back to Hiromi. “We’ll put him in charge of a diversity and inclusion project.”

Hiromi took a contemplative puff.

Then he smirked.

“That’s good.”

Shoko laughed. “It’s HR-approved corporate warfare. He can’t quit without looking like an asshole, and he can’t survive without running himself into the ground.”

Hiromi let out a low hum, something dark and knowing.

The plan was perfect.

And across the city, Sukuna—completely oblivious to the incoming HR-sanctioned murder attempt—continued to be the worst employee known to mankind.

---

On another side of town, Gojo was causing marital problems between high school sweethearts without even being there.

Ino's hands were seizing Suguru's hips, his fingers digging deep into the flesh as he pulled him closer.

Geto was seething. His entire body burned with frustration, his muscles taut as if he were holding himself together with a thin string. The fury had nowhere to go—nowhere, except the way his nails bit into Ino's back and took every inch his husband shoved into him.

"That bastard," Geto snarled, his nails digging into the mattress, his voice muffled but dripping with venom. "Five years, Ino. Five fucking years of doing the work of two people while that absolute waste of oxygen paraded around as an incompetent EA and a crybaby—"

Ino slammed into Geto, their bodies crashing together in a frenzy of angry sex. "Forget about Gojo for now, Suguru," Ino growled, his eyes blazing with intensity. "I don’t want to talk about work or hear another’s name on your lips when I’m the one making love to you."

He punctuated his order by yanking him back onto his horsecock so hard that the air left Geto’s lungs in a choked moan.

"So shut up," Ino growled, his fingers digging into Geto’s princess waist, bruising.

But Geto didn’t shut up.

Geto cried out, his eyes watering from Ino’s aggressive thrusts. "Don’t worry about him like that, baby. I genuinely hate him," he mumbled, his eyes flashing with fury. "I hate him so much; I want to eradicate his trust fund ass bloodline."

Ino's hand moved to tug at Geto's hair, while his other hand’s nails bit into his ass as he pulled him back onto his length. "That's not what I want to hear."

Geto's face twisted in a mixture of anger and pleasure. "Ta...Tacco," he stuttered.

But the nickname wasn't enough for Ino.

"He—he made me believe I was losing my mind,” Geto continued, his voice raw, breaking between every ruthless thrust. “That idiotic imbecile.”

Ino’s jaw gritted. The way Geto was clenching around him was driving him insane, but this wasn’t working.

He wanted Geto to break, wanted him to be writhing for him, moaning for him, screaming his name.

Not fucking Gojo’s.

So he changed tactics.

With zero warning, Ino slid out, flipped Geto onto his stomach, and pinned him down with one hand between his shoulder blades.

Geto barely had time to register it before Ino was slamming back into him, his grip tightening in his hair, forcing his head up.

“Say my name, Suguru!”

Geto gasped, his fingers twisting in the sheets, his back arching involuntarily as Ino pressed his chest against his spine, heat, muscle, and dominance.

But Geto was still fucking talking about Gojo.

"Do you know what it’s like to realize your entire career is a goddamn lie?” he snarled. “That you’re being played by an idiot with the attention span of a goldfish?”

Ino exhaled through his nose, frustrated.

Then he grabbed Geto’s jaw, forced his head back by yanking at his hair, and bit down on the side of his throat, hard.

Geto whined.

“Fuck,” Ino murmured, voice like gravel. "You’re still thinking about him? Fine—"

He pulled back just enough to wrap his hand around Geto’s throat, applying pressure—not enough to cut off his air completely, but enough to make Geto’s thighs tremble.

"You will say my name, Suguru," Ino whispered, dangerous, demanding, dripping with dominance.

"Or I’ll stop. Right now."

Geto whined.

That finally got his attention.

There was a beat—one second, two—then Geto arched back against Ino’s chest, shaking, wrecked, and screamed,

"INO!"

Ino smirked, victorious.

And then he fucked him into the mattress like he was proving a point.

---

The next morning, Geto arrived at work to find his email mysteriously stopped working, and the entire schedule disappeared. His desk was moved two floors down to an abandoned cubicle near the janitor’s closet.

He had sixteen new interns waiting for him with zero instructions.

His new title?

"Director of Internal Equity Initiatives & Community Synergy."

An email from HR in his new inbox. “We’d love to see you take a more hands-on leadership role in this space.”

It took him six seconds to realize Gojo had played him.

And standing in the doorway, sipping a venti caramel macchiato, was Gojo Satoru.

Smiling.

“Hey, champ. Looks like you got a big boy job now. Good for you.”

Geto nearly committed a felony.

By 9:15 AM, Sukuna stormed into his office.

“What the fuck is this?”

Geto exhaled, rubbing his temples. “…They promoted me sideways.”

Sukuna blinked. “The fuck does that mean?”

Geto leaned back in his chair. “It means… I have less power, more responsibility, and a workload so impossible that I’ll either burn out or quit.”

Sukuna stared at him, nostrils flared and fingers twitching.

He should have been the one to get him fired, for Nanami.

Then he turned on his heel, stormed out of the office, and screamed, “HIGURUMAAAAA!”

---

Shoko sat across from Hiromi, feet kicked up on his desk, filing her nails.

Hiromi calmly checked his watch, then winked at Shoko.

Shoko smirked. “He got the email.”

Victory.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen. His lips twitched—only slightly—as he read the caller ID.

He put it on speaker.

“Dad,” her teenage voice came through the speaker, sharp and impatient. “Where’s Mom? I need to talk to her.”

Shoko glanced up from her nails. “I’m right here, brat.”

Nobara sighed loudly into the phone. “Of course, you’re in Dad’s office. You two are always together.”

Shoko groaned. “Yeah, and?”

Nobara groaned back. “I need to stay over at Maki’s tonight.”

Hiromi hummed. “If Toji knows, then it’s fine.”

“He does. Also, tell Mom to stop smoking.”

Shoko smirked. “I make my own rules, baby.”

---

The first sign of catastrophe was the IT memo.

At precisely 9:25 AM, every employee at Kaisen Publishing received an internal email.

Subject: URGENT: NEW SYSTEM UPDATE (MANDATORY)

From: Satoru Gojo, COO

Attachments: [System Update Guide.pdf]

The entire office fell for it.

Nanami clicked the link.

Error 404: Skill Issue flashed across his screen.

Then his calendar turned into a neon green and pink mess labeled ‘Gojovision™’ with every meeting title replaced by:

“Mandatory Meditation with Your Favorite Boss 🥰”

“Lunch with That One Guy You Like But Never Admit (Me)”

“How To Accept That You Will Never Be As Hot As Me”

By 9:30 AM, Shoko, Hiromi, and Geto had barged into IT, demanding answers.

They were met with a lifesize cardboard cutout of Gojo, holding a sign that said:

“Sorry, I am too pretty to deal with your problems. Please cry elsewhere.”

---

The Fall of the Old Guard started.

Nanami’s desk was filled with tiny, laminated copies of Gojo’s employee of the month photo from 2019.

Kusakabe’s mouse was set to “Invert Y-Axis” permanently.

Toji’s office was replaced with an employee yoga room.

Sukuna’s vuvuzela was replaced with one that only played the Teletubbies theme song.

By noon, Hiromi and Shoko had begun plotting war.

Only Wife: We kill him.

Only Hiromi: Don’t use text; we can be tracked if Geto kills him first.

Only Wife: Then we kill him first.

---

In the afternoon, the entire C-Suite was summoned to the boardroom.

Gojo stood at the front, composed, smug, and glowing like he’d just emerged from a ten-day spa retreat in the Maldives.

Then, with unforgivable glee, he said, “Oh, by the way, Suguru? Your resignation letter was accepted. I just forgot to tell you. Pack up by Friday.”

Disarray.

Sukuna threw a chair at him.

Nanami supplied him with more chairs.

Geto went silent—just staring at Gojo like he was trying to manifest his death with sheer force of will.

And Gojo?

He sipped his coffee. Smiled.

And walked out.

By the end of the day, HR had officially surrendered, Sukuna’s war on HR had escalated into an actual HR vs C-Suite Mafia Conflict, and Nanami had developed a twitch in his left eye.

---

By the next working day, no one was safe.

But Gojo wasn’t done.

Oh, no.

Because while Shoko, Hiromi, Nanami, Geto, and Sukuna were easy targets, there were still more names on his list.

And Gojo believed in equal-opportunity vengeance.

As Chief Editorial Officer Haibara’s Executive Assistant, Ino Takuma had a big job. He kept Haibara’s entire schedule running smoothly, coordinated between every department, and ensured that Haibara never had to deal with idiots.

Which was why it was particularly devastating when, on Monday morning, Ino arrived at work and his entire email history along with his scheduled emails was deleted.

Every meeting?

Gone.

Every deadline?

Erased.

Every draft, every document, every client request?

Vanished into the digital void.

Even his backup files had been corrupted.

There was only one email left in his inbox.

From: Satoru Gojo, COO

Subject: 🖤 oopsies 🖤

Body: lmao my bad

Ino stormed into IT foaming at the mouth.

The IT Department, previously unbothered by the company-wide chaos, had finally lost its collective mind.

They pointed to the lifesize cardboard cutout of Gojo, now wearing sunglasses, with a second sign taped to it.

“Too sexy to fix your problems. Try again later.”

---

Ijichi, Shoko’s EA, had somehow avoided the first wave of destruction.

This was unacceptable.

Gojo corrected that mistake immediately.

Step 1: Change all his passwords.

Step 2: Disable his security clearance.

Step 3: Print every single complaint Ijichi ever filed about him (all 276 of them) and mail them back to him.

The cherry on top?

When Ijichi tried to log into the HR database, it redirected him to a singular, unskippable pop-up video.

It was Gojo.

Smiling.

Winking.

And saying, “Sucks to be you, bro.”

Ijichi cried in the break room.

---

Director of Customer Experience, Kusakabe Atsuya, and his EA, Hajime Kashimo, were next.

Kashimo, already one of the most chaotic employees at Kaisen Publishing, had somehow made the grave mistake of bullying Gojo back when he was ‘just an EA.’

Now?

It was payback.

Step 1: Gojo edited Kusakabe’s Slack contacts so that every time he tried to text Kashimo, it sent a calendar invite for ‘Advanced Handholding Techniques’ with Gojo Satoru.

Step 2: He rerouted Kashimo’s paycheck to a cryptocurrency wallet labeled ‘clownfunds.exe.’

Step 3: He signed Kashimo up for every corporate seminar about ‘Emotional Sensitivity in Leadership.’

By noon, Kashimo had physically launched a printer across the office.

By 3 PM, Kusakabe had locked himself in the storage room, whispering “this isn’t a problem” to himself repeatedly.

---

Gojo’s revenge against Fushiguro Toji, Chief Sales Officer—aka the corporate version of a war criminal—had to be more subtle.

Why?

Because Toji probably had knives.

So, instead of direct sabotage, Gojo planted the seeds of his destruction.

First, he redirected all of Toji’s client emails to spam.

Then, he moved his sales reports into a random, unlabeled folder buried inside a company drive from 2009.

By mid-afternoon, Toji’s office was in flames—figuratively—for now as he ripped through his entire system, trying to find out where the fuck his data went.

And Gojo?

He booked himself a three-week vacation and left them to burn.

---

By the end of the week, Kaisen Publishing had changed.

Ino had developed a jaw tick.

Ijichi was still locked out of HR.

Toji threatened to break Gojo’s legs.

Kashimo was trying to hack his own paycheck.

Nanami was on the verge of actual homicide.

Geto had been moved—again—to office admin.

Sukuna was planning an actual coup.

Kusakabe was in therapy.

Hiromi was thinking of going back to criminal law.

Shoko was openly encouraging physical violence.

---

Somewhere else in the city, you sat in your office, trying not to sigh audibly as your longest-coming patient droned on.

He had been talking for exactly forty-seven minutes without stopping.

For the last five years, he had been trying—desperately—to get closer to a man who refused to notice him. A man who was cold, detached, and frustratingly competent. A man who, despite all of his efforts, remained emotionally unavailable and deeply, deeply unimpressed.

You might have felt bad for him.

But he was here for a reason.

He was Yandere.

And you were getting paid to listen to this bullshit.

You nodded slowly, jotting down notes, making sure to maintain professional neutrality as he continued, oblivious to how completely fucking insane he sounded.

“—and every time I bring him coffee, he sighs like I personally walked into his home and unplugged his WiFi.”

“Mm.”

“—and I memorized all of his favorite foods, but he still calls me a liability and refuses to eat with me in the break room—”

You tapped your pen against the clipboard. “So, it sounds like he’s set very clear boundaries, and you’re—”

“Ignoring them?” The man scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. “No, no, no. I’m just giving him space to realize he actually likes me.”

You stared.

He grinned.

You jotted down ‘delusional.’

Twenty More Minutes of Bullshit Later... “I even started dressing more professionally. You know—less fun, more business. He likes boring people.”

You raised a brow. “And has this change in behavior influenced his perception of you?”

The man hesitated.

Then:

“He yelled at me for messing up a report and called me the single biggest mistake of his career.”

“…Right.” You cleared your throat. “And how did that make you feel?”

He sighed dreamily. “Amazing. He only gets that mad when he really cares, y’know?”

You blinked slowly. “Right.”

You were about to recommend him a 72-hour psychiatric hold when he casually added:

“Oh, and I’m pretty sure he’s married, but I think that’s just one of those silly little obstacles we’ll laugh about later.”

You froze.

“…What?”

He waved a hand again, completely unfazed. “Yeah, yeah, I saw a ring or whatever. But, like, c’mon.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Whoever it is? He definitely doesn’t love them as much as he loves me.”

There was a beat of silence.

The patient smiled, oblivious.

“I just know he’s the one for me.”

You stared.

Then exhaled through your nose.

This was going to be a long fucking session.

After some more time, your patient was still talking.

You had long since stopped listening.

The words were flowing out of his mouth like a TED Talk no one paid for, his entire personality seemingly built around his obsessive workplace crush who didn’t notice him.

He drummed his fingers on his knees. “—so obviously, at this point, it’s only a matter of time before he realizes we’re meant to be.”

You hummed noncommittally.

He nodded, satisfied. “You get it. You’re normal.”

Your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen.

[Group Chat: ‘Why Is HR Trying to Kill Us’]

Nerd: We need to talk.

Frat Bro: Hilarious sentence considering you literally never want to talk about your little feelings.

Nerd: When were you gonna tell us our son got caught making out at university?

Frat Bro: LMAOOOOO, let’s fucking goooooo!!!

Nerd: And you high-fived him.

Frat Bro: HE’S 19, NANA, RELAX. AT LEAST HE’S NOT A LOSER ANYMORE.

Nerd: This is the third time I’ve had to lecture him about safe sex in a month.

Frat Bro: Oh my fucking god. YOU TALKED TO HIM ABOUT SAFE SEX AGAIN? DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT?

Nerd: I will not allow my son to be ignorant about protection.

Frat Bro: Bro, we can have other kids; relax; he’s not the last of his bloodline.

Nerd: Stop calling me bro.

Frat Bro: Then stop texting like a middle school guidance counselor.

Nerd: That is what I feel like, considering our son is out here being publicly obscene while his father is high-fiving him for it.

Frat Bro: IT WAS OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL. BIG DIFFERENCE.

Nerd: IT IS NOT.

Frat Bro: Also, Toji was the one who showed up to pick up the other kid.

Nerd: Jesus Christ.

Frat Bro: He looked like he was ready to load a shotgun.

Nerd: He probably was.

Frat Bro: Yuji tried to dab him up.

Nerd: How did that go?

Frat Bro: Toji ignored him and smirked at his kid instead.

Nerd: Good.

Frat Bro: You’re a hater.

Nerd: I will not comment.

Frat Bro: You just did.

Nerd: I refuse to acknowledge your stupidity.

Frat Bro: Guess who he was making out with.

Nerd: Who?

Frat Bro: Megumi.

Nerd: …

Frat Bro: HAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

Nerd: What?!

Frat Bro: TOJI'S OWN SON. LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nerd: I am going to lie down in traffic.

Frat Bro: We literally work with his dad every day.

Nerd: Yes. And?

Frat Bro: Toji’s kid is making out with our kid. This means we are technically family now.

Nerd: I hate you.

Frat Bro: I love our gay little son.

Nerd: I am blocking you.

You locked your phone before you could scream.

Your patient was still talking.

“…I’m just saying it’s not stalking if you know their entire schedule and occasionally show up at their favorite places before they do.”

You exhaled through your nose. “That's all the time that we have today. Remember to do those breathing exercises and write the unsent letters I told you about.” You told him while politely kicking him out of your office.

This was the worst fucking day of your life.

---

Then it started with a memo.

A crisp white envelope landed on Nanami’s desk at precisely 11:01 AM. The paper was unnervingly smooth, the company seal embossed in blood-red wax.

To: Nanami Kento, CFO

CC: Ryomen Sukuna, CVO

From: HR (The Department of Consequences)

Subject: YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Nanami sighed. Of course.

He had endured a lifetime of bad decisions, but he knew—deep in his gut—that this was about the kazoo.

//

Meanwhile, across the office, Sukuna leaned back in his absurdly large chair, tossing the memo over his shoulder like a receipt from a store he planned to burn down later.

“HR finally grew a pair,” he muttered, unimpressed.

Geto, his ever-suffering ex-EA, picked up the discarded letter and skimmed it. His brows furrowed. “They want a ‘mandatory compliance meeting’ with all C-Suite executives. That means you, Nanami, Hiromi, Shoko, Toji, Kusakabe, Haibara, and—” he hesitated.

Sukuna smirked. “Oh, let me guess.”

A loud crash echoed through the hall.

“NANAMIIIIIIIIII!”

Gojo had arrived.

---

The Meeting from Hell (Sponsored by HR)

At precisely noon, the boardroom was filled with an unusual mix of tension, HR vengeance, and coffee that tasted vaguely like regret.

Nanami, Sukuna, Shoko, Toji, Kusakabe, Haibara, Hiromi, and Gojo sat in a semicircle, facing HR’s new Director of Employee Conduct (DEC).

A man none of them had ever seen before.

He wore a perfectly pressed black suit, his ID badge labeled only as "HR"—no last name, no employee code, just HR in bold capital letters. His aura radiated pure, unfiltered administrative menace.

But Sukuna knew who he was.

His annoying half-brother, who’d followed him here too.

Choso.

Gojo, who had already slouched so hard he was practically under the table, raised a hand lazily. “So, what’s this about?”

HR blinked at him slowly, like a lizard assessing prey. Then he reached into his briefcase and pulled out—

A single PowerPoint slide.

One phrase. One sentence. One undeniable truth.

‘THERE ARE NO LAWS THAT PROHIBIT PHYSICAL VIOLENCE AGAINST EXECUTIVES.’

Silence.

Nanami stopped breathing. Sukuna sat up. Shoko took a sip of her coffee, unfazed. Kusakabe looked at the nearest exit. Hiromi took a deep breath. Toji smirked. Haibara’s eyes gleemed.

Gojo?

Gojo laughed.

“Wait, so you’re telling me—” he wheezed, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, “—that we spent years dodging HR complaints, only to find out they could have just punched us?”

HR closed his laptop, his expression blank, voice monotone. “Yes.”

The implications settled in.

Kusakabe, normally composed, whispered, “Oh, fuck.”

Sukuna’s grin stretched wider. “You’re telling me we could have been brawling this whole time?”

HR nodded.

“…No fines?” Nanami asked cautiously, his CFO brain twitching at the mere thought of an unregulated system.

“No paperwork?” Shoko added, hopeful for the first time in years.

“No lawsuits?” Gojo blinked, awestruck.

HR simply stood up, adjusted his tie, and walked around the table. When he reached Sukuna, he leaned down and whispered one word.

“Run.”

Sukuna barely had time to react before Hiromi—buttoned-up, put-together, legally-inclined Hiromi—flipped the fucking table and lunged at him.

---

One hour later, the office was in flames.

Sukuna had fought off three hulking HR representatives using nothing but a vuvuzela and a stapler.

Hiromi was locked in a full judo match with Geto, their fight crashing into the break room, where Geto flung a coffee pot at him like he was reenacting Die Hard.

Nanami, in an unprecedented move, drop-kicked Gojo directly into a vending machine, cracking the glass. Gojo slumped against it, blinking blearily as a Snickers bar fell into his lap.

Ino was booting Toji into a dirty mop bucket, while Haibara was beating the absolute shit out of Kusakabe for teasing Gojo back when he was an EA.

Kashimo had also shown up. Apparently, he’d gotten wind that Choso had rejected his PTO request to attend the world’s largest electric eel race. "It’s historical, you bastard!" Kashimo screamed as he launched himself across the room.

And Shoko?

Shoko stood in the middle of it all, watching the chaos unfold like she was watching a National Geographic documentary. She took a slow sip of her coffee and muttered,

“Finally, some real corporate reform.”

Then her own EA, Ijichi, showed up with a mop.

Shoko was surprised.

But the mop broke on impact.

Ijichi ran when Shoko put her cup down and smiled, cracking her knuckles.

---

Two Weeks Later, Jujutsu Corp. Was Different.

HR had installed ‘Employee Fight Nights.’

Disputes were now settled with bare fists.

Productivity skyrocketed.

Nanami had never been happier. He showed up to work early. He smiled—smiled—during meetings. He bought a new tie.

Gojo still sucked at his job, but now he had an incentive. If he failed too hard, he got thrown into the supply closet with only stale granola bars that tasted like cardboard and an unplugged landline.

Sukuna?

He thrived.

He was made for lawless corporate bloodsport.

And the HR department?

They finally got their revenge.

Order was restored.

The Symphony of Spite played on.

---

“WHO LET SUKUNA PLAN THIS?”

That was the first thing Nanami yelled as he stepped off the private jet onto the absurdly luxurious beach resort that Sukuna had somehow gaslit the board into approving.

The accommodations were individually staffed villas with ocean views.

The corporate expense budget had been thrown out the window.

The alcohol budget was bigger than the seminar budget.

Hiromi, Shoko, and Nanami all looked like they were considering a lawsuit.

Sukuna, sipping a frozen margarita, smirked. "Relax. It's all-expenses-paid. Enjoy it."

Nanami twitched. "Paid by who, Ryomen?"

"The company."

"Oh my god."

Gojo, who was already wearing sunglasses and a Gucci floral shirt, threw an arm around Sukuna and grinned. “Now, now. Let’s just enjoy the beach, Nanamin.”

"You’re a criminal."

Sukuna just laughed.

//

Yuji, excited to go to the beach, froze mid-step when he saw the last person he expected to see.

Megumi.

Making direct eye contact. Also frozen.

Maki, standing next to Megumi, squinted. “Wait.”

Nobara, standing next to Yuji, grinned like a demon.

“You two are here.”

Yuji blinked. “You’re here too??”

Megumi exhaled through his nose like a disappointed father. “Why are you here?”

“My parents’ work retreat.”

“MY parent’s work retreat.”

Silence.

The realization hit them all at once.

Their parents all worked together.

And then Yuta appeared, holding hands with Inumaki.

And then Ino and Geto showed up, hand in hand, deep in a heated debate over which SPF level was best for their adopted son Yuta’s sensitive skin.

And then Haibara walked over, sunglasses perched on his nose and a piña colada in hand, waving at them like a laid-back uncle at a barbecue. He ruffled Inumaki’s hair affectionately, a warm smile on his face. “Don’t forget to hydrate, buddy! And no energy drinks don’t count,” he called out, reminding everyone that he was always looking out for his adopted son.

The kids all collectively realized that their entire social circle was connected through some corporate nightmare.

Nobara, smirking, leaned on Maki’s shoulder. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

//

Ijichi did not want to be here.

He had already endured HR vs. C-Suite bloodshed, Gojo’s return from the underworld, and being locked out of his own system for three weeks.

But this?

This was worse.

Because this company retreat was nothing more than a week-long circus of corporate war crimes disguised as team bonding.

And somehow, HR had scheduled him for mandatory paddleboarding lessons with Kashimo.

Kashimo.

The one employee most likely to get them both killed in international waters.

He sat stiffly on the sand, watching as Kashimo flipped a paddle upside-down and used it as a microphone.

“This is bullshit,” Kashimo muttered, adjusting his sunglasses. “I was lied to. I thought we were gonna drink on a yacht."

"You could just do the activity," Ijichi gritted out.

"You could just not be a virgin," Kashimo shot back.

Ijichi considered throwing himself into the ocean.

//

You had had enough.

You had been ignoring it, trying to give your patient the benefit of the doubt.

But now that you watched Gojo laugh too loudly over a cocktail with Nanami, his sunglasses sliding down his nose, it clicked.

Your stomach dropped.

Sukuna was talking.

You weren’t listening.

Because it hit you all at once.

The man he had been talking about for five years—

The stoic, serious, emotionally unavailable, overworked executive—

The one he had been relentlessly pursuing for five fucking years—

—was your husband.

And Gojo had been lying about his workplace THE ENTIRE TIME!

You stood up, ready to throw hands.

“Oh? Are we finally doing this?” Gojo grinned, sliding his sunglasses down. “I was wondering when you’d figure it out.”

Before you could deck him, Haibara materialized out of nowhere.

"Satoru, baby no."

You froze.

Everyone froze.

Because Haibara—calm, nice, smiling Haibara—just wrapped an arm around Gojo’s waist and kissed his cheek.

Gojo grinned.

“Oh, right. Did I forget to mention? This is my boyfriend.”

The entire company retreat fell into silence.

Sukuna, sipping a cocktail, whispered, “Holy shit! I did not see that coming.”

Nanami removed his glasses and rubbed his temples.

Toji and Kusakabe cackled.

And you?

You sat back down.

You were going to need another drink.

//

Inumaki and Yuta had been in the pool for six hours.

They had witnessed everything.

Kashimo being thrown into the ocean by Sukuna.

Nanami having a mid-life crisis after seeing Yuji and Megumi together.

Toji and Kusakabe sneaking into a beach hut for two hours.

Gojo pulling an entire wine bottle out of nowhere and drunkenly making out with Haibara.

Megumi watched Yuji dive into the sand and sighed. “You’re so stupid.”

Then Nanami got a sunburn despite reapplying SPF 50 every hour.

Nobara challenged Maki to a tequila shot contest. Maki won and carried Nobara’s passed-out ass to bed.

While Nobara’s parents—Hiromi and Shoko—got day drunk and talked shit about Sukuna for three straight hours.

Geto threatened to sue Choso.

Gojo let Choso punch him in the face.

Ino defended his husband’s honor.

You helped Ino by punching Gojo.

Haibara appeared out of nowhere again to knock you out.

Ijichi hid under a flipped boat.

Yuta adjusted his sunglasses. “So…”

Inumaki, floating on a pool noodle, exhaled through his nose.

“…Your dad and my dad work together.”

“Yes.”

“…And your dad is fucking his CEO, while my dads hate your future stepdad.”

“Mhm.”

“…And we’re just supposed to pretend like this is normal?”

Inumaki shrugged.

Yuta groaned. “I want a refund.”

“We didn’t pay.”

//

Choso hated everyone.

Especially Kashimo.

Which was unfortunate because he was currently fucking him.

This was never supposed to happen.

HR was supposed to remain neutral.

HR was supposed to enforce the rules.

Not bend Kashimo over a company-paid resort bed and remind him why fighting HR was a mistake.

Kashimo, breathless, his hair completely ruined, grinned up at him like a complete menace.

“That’s all you got?”

Choso narrowed his eyes. “Shut up.”

He flipped Kashimo over.

HR was going to be compromised forever.

So it was HR vs. Kashimo, except HR is sleeping with him now.

//

By the next morning, Choso filed an official resignation letter.

It was denied immediately.

Kashimo signed it for him and then threw it into the bonfire.

HR was never recovering.

And neither was this company.

//

On returning day, the company jet was dead silent.

Nobody spoke. Nobody could speak. The air was thick with regret, hangovers, and the faint, lingering scent of bad decisions.

Nanami had not spoken a single word in three hours.

His shoes were gone.

His shirt was unbuttoned.

His soul had left his body.

Next to him, Sukuna was unconscious, head tilted back, drooling slightly onto his designer shirt. His sunglasses were still on, but his entire aura screamed, ‘I have been humbled.’

Toji and Kusakabe refused to make eye contact.

Nobody knew what happened between them on the last night.

Nobody wanted to know.

Geto and Ino, meanwhile, were inhaling sushi like they had survived a natural disaster and not a hangover.

Geto still had sand in his hair.

Ino was wearing a completely different slipper than any he’d owned.

They were each giving the other the better sushi.

Shoko and Hiromi, however, were unbothered.

They were annoying the shit out of Nobara and Maki by planning their wedding five years in advance.

“I think we should do two honeymoons.”

“Why? Are we planning to kill someone on the first one?”

“Shoko!”

“Fine. But I get to pick the murder weapon for our anniversary.”

Nobara, who had not stopped rolling her eyes for an hour, turned to Maki. “Trade parents with me. I’m begging you.”

Maki, scrolling on her phone, didn’t even glance up. “I’d rather fight God.” She would not give Toji up, not even for Mother Shoko.

Meanwhile in the back, Yuji was cuddling Megumi, half-asleep and murmuring nonsense.

Megumi, however, was staring dramatically out the window like he was in a mid-2000s emo music video.

Was he thinking about life?

Was he contemplating his future?

Was he wondering how his dad and his boyfriend’s dads worked together in a company that allowed Gojo to exist?

Nobody knew.

Yuta, sitting nearby, was applying sheet masks with Inumaki.

“You should use the hydrating one.”

“I should?”

“No, seriously, your pores are stressed.”

“Yours would be too if Gojo was to become your stepdad.”

“Toge, for the love of god, just—sit still—”

And then there was Kashimo & Choso.

Kashimo had fallen off his seat.

He was snoring loudly.

His shirt was missing.

He had somehow ended up in Gojo’s limited edition Gucci slides.

His hair was in his mouth.

Next to him, Choso was attempting to guest star in Megumi’s sad music video.

He had a perfectly timed melancholic stare.

He had a half-drunk mimosa in hand.

He looked like he was contemplating the meaning of life, the fall of capitalism, and why the fuck he was fucking Kashimo.

Gojo, meanwhile, was the only one having a good time.

He was fully refreshed.

He had zero regrets.

He was actively making things worse.

With a shit-eating grin, Gojo was typing ‘LET’S DO THIS AGAIN!’ into the company Slack.

He was practically in Haibara’s lap, who was leaving very visible hickeys on his neck like he was trying to mark his territory but knew peeing wasn’t an option.

Sukuna, who had just woken himself up with a snort, squinted blearily at them.

“…Is this workplace harassment?”

“No, this is my boyfriend, Yu.”

Nanami, still dead inside and contemplating his life decisions, muttered, “Did not expect Haibara to be into idiots.”

He sighed and continued. “Well, I’m into one too, so I guess that makes me a hypocrite.” He glanced over at Sukuna, who was falling back asleep with his eyes wide open, looking like a horror movie character caught in a perpetual state of shock. “Great, now I’m married to a zombie too.”

Gojo gasped. Not sure from the fact that he did not expect Nanami to be married to Sukuna of all people or from Haibara twisting his nipples through his shirt under the blanket he was dragging him under.

You leaned back in your seat, exhaled deeply, and closed your eyes.

This was, without a doubt, the worst corporate retreat in history.

And next time?

You were faking a medical emergency.

Ijichi wondered why he was still an adult virgin and called back the barista who’d flirt with him daily on his way to work.

---

Bonus

Toji Fushiguro hated authors.

No, scratch that—he hated this author.

"Akutami," he gritted out, struggling to keep his patience intact. "I get it. You're pissed. But Kaisen Publishing has been your home for years. You can't just walk."

"See, Toji, the problem is," they drawled, "I can just walk. My contract is up, and my sales numbers could make any publisher wet their pants. I’m a free agent, baby."

Toji was having a bad fucking day.

“I’m leaving,” Gege added casually, flipping through a heavily annotated manuscript as if Toji wasn’t one bad negotiation away from career ruin.

Toji sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not leaving.”

“I am. Unless…”

Toji narrowed his eyes. “Unless what?”

Gege took a long sip of their coffee. “Unless you convince me otherwise.”

Kusakabe, the Director of Customer Experience (DCE), leaned forward, visibly panicking, trying to salvage the situation. “We need you to stay,” he said, already sweating.

Gege grinned. “Oh? Do you?”

Toji had dealt with nightmare clients before, but this? This was some next-level blackmail.

“Alright, what do you want?” Toji asked, arms crossed.

Gege leaned back in their chair, smirking. “A better contract. No more deadlines.”

Toji laughed. “Yeah, no.”

Gege shrugged. “Alright, then I’m gone.”

Kusakabe leaned in, desperate. “Okay, okay, we can negotiate! What about—uh—a signing tour? Bigger advance? More creative control?”

Gege tapped their chin. “All very tempting.”

Toji sighed, rubbing his temples. “You are so lucky you make us money.”

“Oh, I know.”

"Look," Kusakabe added carefully, "you have creative freedom here. We’ve never censored you."

Gege arched a brow. "No, but you did reject my pitch for a dark BL thriller about two businessmen in a toxic, doomed relationship where one gaslights the other into insanity."

Toji pinched the bridge of his nose. "That was just Satosugu with stock market terminology."

"And?"

"AND?!"

Toji was mere seconds away from hurling a chair when, without warning—

The door swung open with a bang.

And there, framed in the doorway like he owned the place—like he hadn’t just attempted to sabotage the entire company three weeks ago—stood none other than—

Gojo, COO and Certified Workplace Menace.

Right behind him was Haibara, the CEO, exuding his yandere tendencies: unnervingly calm, fiercely devoted, and radiating pure ‘if-you-touch-my-man-I’ll-kill-you’ energy.

Toji's entire body locked up. “Fuck me.” Kusakabe closed his eyes.

"Good morning, peasants," Gojo greeted chirpily.

Toji took a deep breath. "Gojo—"

But Gojo? Gojo ignored him.

Instead, he sauntered in like he was walking down a Parisian runway, immediately throwing an arm over Haibara’s shoulders and dragging him into the corner of the room, whispering something low.

Haibara grinned.

Then? They started making out.

Full. On. Corporate. PDA.

Toji and Kusakabe froze.

Gege? Gege stared, their brain short-circuited.

Eyes wide. Expression blank.

And then, very, very softly, they muttered—

“…Holy shit.”

Toji snapped.

"GOJO, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Gojo, still half-latched onto Haibara’s neck, turned slightly. "Hm?"

"TAKE IT OUTSIDE!"

Gojo blinked innocently. "What? We’re just showing healthy workplace affection."

"YOU ARE COMMITTING CORPORATE WAR CRIMES."

Kusakabe was already rolling up his sleeves. "I’ll hold him down. You punch."

Haibara, unfazed, stepped in front of Gojo like a human shield while Gojo continued to lick his neck like a Banshee.

"You’ll have to go through me," he said, smiling like a serial killer.

Toji deadpanned. "Man, are you good?"

"No." Haibara grinned wider. "But I love my boyfriend."

Gege had not blinked once.

Toji noticed.

“…What,” he asked suspiciously.

Gege took one slow sip of their coffee and tapped their fingers together like a scheming villain. Then whispered, "I’ve just had a brilliant idea."

Toji’s stomach dropped. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"YES."

Kusakabe stared. “For what?”

Gege’s eyes gleamed. “For my next book.”

Toji, already furious, turned to Gojo. “Get the fuck out!”

Gojo, ignoring him completely, pulled back from Haibara just enough to grin obnoxiously. “Aww, come on, don’t be jealous, Toji~”

Toji lunged.

Kusakabe grabbed his sleeve. “Toji, please, we need HR clearance before murder—”

Gojo dodged effortlessly. “Damn, man, you’re still this fast? No wonder the ladies love you.”

Haibara, smirking, stepped in front of Gojo again. “If you touch him, I will end your bloodline.”

Toji stopped, considered it.

Then immediately started swinging anyway.

Gege leaned forward, gleeful, deranged, and inspired. "I’ll stay."

Kusakabe perked up. "Really?"

"But—" Gege drawled.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake—" Toji looked ready to retire.

Kusakabe sighed deeply. “What’s your angle here?”

Gege leaned forward, predatory. "I want the exclusive."

"The what now?"

"The Gojo Satoru Interview."

"You’re out of your goddamn mind."

Silence.

Gojo, running a hand through Haibara’s hair, froze. “…Huh?”

Gege set their coffee down. “I have questions.”

Then—

"Absolutely not," Nanami’s voice suddenly rang from the corridor.

Too late. Gege was already opening their notes app.

What had once been a generic publishing drama was now a messy, doomed workplace romance.

And for that? Kaisen Publishing was worth staying for.

Toji’s left eye twitched.

Kusakabe, still rolling up his sleeves, stared between Gojo (the problem) and Gege (the bigger problem).

Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Gojo was back to kissing Haibara like he had a limited-time coupon for free affection.

Haibara, whose only goal in life was to enable Gojo’s worst decisions, continued to let it happen.

Toji inhaled through his nose.

"No."

Gege, smirking like a villain in the final act, tilted their head. "Oh, but thiccck dick daddy Toji~"

Toji’s soul left his body. "This is unprofessional. I hate it when you do that voice."

"I love it when I do this voice." Gege winked at him.

From the hallway, Nanami—who had been ready to leave, minding his own fucking business—paused mid-step.

Then, slowly, backed up, peering inside the room like someone checking if a murder was in progress. “…Why do I feel like I just walked into a lawsuit?”

Toji didn’t even look at him. "Because you did."

Nanami, already done with this conversation, turned to leave— "Wait!" Gege called. "Would you like to co-author a tell-all book about working with Gojo? You seem like the only boring one here."

Nanami stopped and turned around very, very slowly. "…What?"

Gojo, who had been minding his own business (making out with Haibara), perked up immediately. "Ooooh, memoirs? Nanamin, would you like my high school yearbook photos? I was so hot—like Justin Bieber can’t even compete hot."

"You were an asshole," Geto muttered from the window, where he was eating sushi like a man recovering from a war.

"You can be both."

Toji groaned. "Okay, no one is writing a tell-all book. Nanami, leave."

Nanami didn’t move. "I think I want to stay now."

Toji dragged a hand down his face.

Gege, thrilled, continued. “Okay, final terms: I stay with Kaisen Publishing, but I get an exclusive sit-down interview with your in-house menace. Uncensored. No PR team interference. No board review.”

Toji and Kusakabe shared a long, tired look.

Then, simultaneously, they turned toward Haibara.

Toji sighed. “Can you control him?”

Haibara, still being devoured by Gojo, smirked.

"No."

"FUCK!"

And so, against all logic, ethics, and concerns for public safety, the infamous interview was scheduled.

Nanami, who had decided to stay out of morbid curiosity, was already drafting his resignation letter.

Kusakabe had aged ten years.

Toji was considering faking his own death.

Gojo grinned, pleased with himself. “Oh, don’t worry, Toji. I’ll make sure it’s the most iconic interview of the century.”

Toji exhaled deeply.

"I hope you choke on your own hubris," Nanami sighed.

//

The location was Kaisen Publishing’s Private Lounge—aka where HR went to cry or hook up with Kashimo.

Toji had one job.

One job.

And that was to make sure Gojo didn’t say anything that could get the company sued, canceled, or worse—put on a ‘business leaders to watch’ list.

This, unfortunately, was an impossible task.

Because Gojo was already seated in the executive lounge, legs kicked up on the coffee table, wearing sunglasses indoors, and sipping a venti caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream like he was about to bullshit his way through a TED Talk.

Gege sat across from him, recorder on, notebook open, smirk firmly in place.

Kusakabe stood off to the side, clutching a folder labeled ‘Crisis Control Plan.’

Haibara was nearby, sipping a matcha latte, keeping one homicidal eye on Toji and the other adoringly on Gojo.

Nanami, forced to be here as PR supervision—because Yuki was on leave—was already rubbing his temples, searching for an exit.

Cameras started rolling as Gege sat smiling like they weren’t about to ruin their own career. They cleared their throat, pen at the ready. “Alright, Gojo, let’s start simple. How would you describe your leadership style?”

Gojo grinned. “Sexy.”

Toji groaned. “Can we not?”

Kusakabe flipped through his folder. “I don’t have a backup plan for this. Continue.”

Gege nodded, unfazed. “Okay. Sexy. Noted. Now, how do you handle conflict resolution in the workplace?”

Gojo leaned back in his chair, smug. “With love.”

Silence.

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s objectively false.”

“Is it?” Gojo smirked.

“Yes,” Nanami deadpanned.

Toji nodded. “He nearly got into an actual fistfight with Shoko, the CHRO, last week.”

“That was a bonding exercise.”

“That was attempted murder,” Hiromi yelled from the back.

Gege jotted something down. “Okay, so you resolve conflicts with love and/or violence. Got it.”

Haibara smiled proudly.

Ino, Ijichi, Choso, and Kashimo exchanged exhausted glances.

Nanami was texting you about dinner plans like this wasn’t happening.

"Alright, Satoru," Gege continued. "Let’s start with an easy one—what’s your biggest professional regret?"

Gojo leaned back, adjusting his sunglasses. "Not committing tax fraud when I had the chance."

Nanami stared at him.

Gege perked up. "Oh? Elaborate."

Nanami intervened immediately. "Do not elaborate!"

Gojo shrugged. "I just feel like the U.S. government shouldn’t be the only ones allowed to rob people."

Nanami visibly aged five years.

After twenty minutes, Gege continued scribbling more notes. “So, to summarize, you believe—”

Gojo nodded. “That if HR gets to fight employees now, I should get to bring a sword to work.”

Nanami, staring directly into the camera, exhaled slowly. "Gege, I beg of you, move on to the next question."

Gege smirked. "Oh, you’ll love this one. Gojo—who’s the most annoying person you work with?"

Nanami tensed.

Gojo, grinning like a menace, turned to the camera.

"Suguru Geto."

Off-camera, Geto—who was minding his own business (here to send hate to Gojo with his husband Ino), sipping his coffee—froze.

Gege raised a brow. "But—he’s not even an EA anymore."

Gojo laughed. "Oh, I know."

Geto narrowed his eyes. “I will set your office on fire.”

Nanami, fully dead inside, was texting Shoko, begging her to fire him.

Gege continued again, unfazed. “So, Gojo. Tell me, how do you view your role as COO?”

Gojo grinned like he’d been waiting for this. “Oh, simple.” He leaned forward, shades sliding down the bridge of his nose. “I’m the glue that holds this company together.”

Silence.

Then, Kusakabe, Hiromi, and Toji actually laughed out loud.

Geto launched a pen at Gojo’s head while Ino held him back from aiming it right.

Nanami got up to leave.

Haibara kissed Gojo on the cheek.

Taking advantage of the disarray, Kashimo and Choso snuck off to make out while Ijichi started sexting his girl.

Gege was about to ask the next question when—

They saw him.

There, standing in the doorway, arguing with Shoko and looking like he walked out of a villain fashion ad, was—

Ryomen Sukuna.

Gege froze. Their pen dropped.

Toji noticed the shift in energy immediately. “Oh, God no."

Gege, still staring, whispered, “…is that Sukuna?”

Gojo looked over his shoulder and snorted. “Yeah. He’s married to Nanamin.”

Gege’s soul left their body. “You’re lying.”

Gojo grinned. “Nope. Wanna watch them interact?”

Nanami, who had just re-entered the room with a fresh cup of coffee, sighed. “Satoru, don’t.”

Gojo waved Sukuna over anyway.

Ryomen Sukuna—and his nonsensical title, corporate terrorist, HR’s biggest enemy—strolled in, looking bored as hell, completely unaware that Gege was currently having a breakdown over his existence. “What?” he grunted, looking at Gojo.

Gojo pointed at Gege. “Our little gremlin here is a huge fan.”

Gege, who was normally a menace to everyone else, was suddenly flustered. "Holy. Fucking. Shit."

Gojo and Nanami blinked.

Gege lit up like a Christmas tree. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE!!"

Sukuna froze.

Gojo frowned. "Wait. What."

Gege was already standing, shaking.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I LOVE YOUR WORK."

Hiromi was completely lost. "Sukuna doesn’t work."

Gege ignored him. “YOU. ARE. INCREDIBLE.”

Sukuna looked deeply concerned. "I literally don’t know who you are."

Gojo, offended as hell, observed, "Hold on. You didn’t react like this for me."

Gege waved a dismissive hand at Gojo. "Gojo, shut up. This is important."

“I—” Gege started, looking at Sukuna. Then paused.

Finally, they managed: "Do you believe in destiny?"

Then, to everyone’s horror, Sukuna smirked. "Are you flirting with me or trying to kill me?"

Gege beamed. "Why not both?"

Toji physically pushed Gege’s recorder off the table. “Okay, NO. We are NOT doing this.”

Gojo, laughing, leaned back. “Oh, this is getting good.”

Nanami stood up immediately. "Alright. This interview is over. Everyone please get back to work."

Gojo laughed. "Are you jealous?"

Nanami, dead inside, took a long sip of coffee. “I regret ever signing my marriage license.”

Gojo grinned. "Can I get a raise before your divorce?"

Nanami asked Hiromi and Shoko, “How do I submit a workplace harassment claim against the COO?”

Sukuna eyed Gege like a particularly annoying ant. "Are you done?"

Gege was absolutely not done.

"Can I write your villain origin story?"

Sukuna sighed. "Stop talking."

Gege scribbled notes. "THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT A VILLAIN WOULD SAY."

Gojo leaned back, smirking. "Looks like I’m not the only one inspiring doomed yaoi."

Geto was on the verge of homicide. “For the last time, that’s not what it’s called.”

And so, the interview ended in absolute failure.

Haibara, completely unbothered, just kissed Gojo again, who giggled like a schoolgirl.

But at least Gege was staying, already outlining their next tragic yaoi novel with Sukuna and a cryptid cat as the main characters.

Yes, they were the cryptid cat.

A/N: There we have it. I have no brain cells left. Gojo has won. HR has collapsed. Nanami is rethinking every life choice. And Choso is sleeping with Kashimo for some reason. I should stop. I should mark this fic Complete. But should I? I leave it in your hands. Drop a comment. Fight in the reblogs. Make HR proud. PS: If you've read this far, you are braver than half this company’s executive board. Now I'm officially out of ideas for this fic so lmk if you get any and help a girl out.

All Works Masterlist

[haze-of-hyperfixations]

*meanwhile, in the Underworld* Polites: Eurylochus, back so soon? And...there's the rest of your crew. And by the gods, what happened to you? Eurylochus, who is sick of thematically-significant reprises: >:(

[whosmybf]

Sleepy

Rodrick heffley X F!reader

Wc:369

It’s Rodrick and y/n’s first sleepover

The sound of Rodrick's van honking outside my house instantly excites me. Tonight is our first-ever sleepover. I grab my bright pink duffle bag and bound down the stairs, where I find my mom in the hallway giving me a concerned look.

"Y/n, you be careful. I don’t want you getting into any nonsense," she advises.

I nod, blow her a kiss, and then smile at my dad who's practically glaring at the beat-up van with 'Löded Diper' amateurly spray painted across it.

I leave the house, shivering in the cold air, and start walking towards the van. Rodrick jumps out at the last minute, eagerly opening the door for me before wrapping his arms around me, then hopping back in.

I step into the van and chuckle at his hurried behavior.

"What's got you in such a hurry, Roddy?" I ask.

"You know your dad creeps me out," he admits as he steps into the car and leans over to give me a quick kiss, letting out a contented sigh.

"Mhmm. I missed you so much," he murmurs.

"Did you miss me or just my lips?" I ask playfully.

"Both," he answers, giving me a sly smile and booping my nose before starting up the van.

Rodrick practically drags me into his house. When we get inside, I try to greet his mom and Greg, but Rodrick is pulling my hand up the stairs, so I just give them a sorry smile and follow him. Once we're in his room, he gives me a hopeful smile.

"So, what now?" he asks.

"I don't know, Rodrick. What do you wanna do?"

He sits down on the edge of his bed.

"How 'bout we put on a movie or something?"

And that's exactly what we do. He selects some obscure emo film, and I lie down next to him, resting my head on his chest.

Eventually, the air grows heavy with sleepiness, and the movie loses its appeal. I sit up and look at Rodrick, paying close attention to his expressive eyes and fluffy eyebrows.

"Hey, can I sit here?" I ask, straddling his stomach.

"Mhmm," he says, his hands instinctively finding my waist and toying with my pajama pants from Victoria's Secret. I lean in close, running my thumb over one of his eyebrows, watching the arch in awe.

"You have great eyebrows, Roddy," I say with a touch of amusement.

He chuckles, his hands moving up to my stomach, giving me a gentle squeeze.

I can tell he's getting tired, and I am too. I run my fingers over his eyelids, gently coaxing them closed. I trace over his nose and brow bone, until after a few minutes, I hear his breathing soften. He's asleep, and so should I be. I reach to turn off the light and lay my head down on his chest, listening to the comforting rhythm of his heart.

A/n: this is my first fic on tumblr, please don’t bully me and please request. I will probably write for Rodrick, jersey shore, shameless, and umbrella academy, but I’m open to requests on anyone

[lunargrrrl]

Lights, Camera, Magic

Agatha Harkness sits in the director's chair of some of your favourite movies. Your world suddenly turns upside down when you're invited to audition for her latest screenplay, "Witching Hour".

Chapter 16

director!agatha harkness x fem!reader | slow burn | power dynamics | eventual smut | oh and agatha is a top in this, ofc | praise kink | smut | thank you all for your patience | i'm really bad at posting on tumblr

Dinner is served in a grand dining room, with elegant chandeliers casting a golden glow over the tables. Soft jazz plays in the background, mingling with the clinks of silverware and chatter. You glance at the set name placeholders, realising you’re seated slightly away from Agatha, opposite her and a few seats down, next to none other than Rio Vidal—the captivating woman you encountered on the roof terrace just moments ago. She exudes confidence in a tailored dark grey suit that perfectly complements her striking features and cool energy.

“I'm really glad I’m sitting next to you instead of some of these lizards,” Rio says, her voice light. “At least you know how to keep a conversation interesting. The last guy I talked to just wouldn’t stop bragging about his latest blockbuster flop.”

You chuckle. “I can imagine. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who’s real. I’m just trying to enjoy the moment and not get caught up in all the Hollywood nonsense. It’s all just… so intense.”

Rio nods. “Totally get that. It can feel like everyone’s just playing a part, trying to outshine one another. I mean, I love this industry, but sometimes it’s exhausting.” She glances around the room, lowering her voice. “I swear, if I have to hear one more person talk about their ‘vision’ for a film that’s been in development hell for years, I might just lose it.”

You laugh softly in reply as she leans in closer, a playful smile on her lips. “So, tell me, what do you do when you’re not charming the socks off everyone in this room?”

You take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth of her compliment. “Well, the past year has just been so crazy, I don’t even know anymore. One minute, I was working for some tech company in my first job out of college, and the next, I’m here, auditioning for movies after some guy spotted me in a coffee shop. It feels like a dream that I’m just trying to keep up with.”

Rio raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Talk about a plot twist. Honestly, I see why someone would want to scout you. It’s no wonder people can’t help but notice you.”

You laugh, feeling a flutter of connection. As dinner progresses, the conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared stories. As you chat, you can feel Agatha's gaze on you from across the table, her expression a mix of interest and something else—jealous, perhaps. 

That familiar, possessive gaze that refuses to leave.

-*-✨-*-

Dinner draws to a close as the servers begin to prepare the table for dessert. Rio is mid-story when her hand brushes against yours as she gestures animatedly. “And then I told him, ‘If you think that’s impressive, wait until you see my next project!’” she finishes, a grin on her lips.

You burst into laughter, and the moment is light. Friendly. But then, you catch Agatha’s eyes flicking toward you, narrowing as she engages with the heavyweight next to her, flashing a smile that feels a touch too flirtatious for comfort.

You try to shake off the discomfort, refocusing on Rio. “So, what’s next for you? Tell me about that project you’re crewing up for next year?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a new script that I think will turn some heads, I reckon you’d be a perfect fit for one of the roles,” Rio replies, her enthusiasm infectious. “It’s a dark comedy about—”

But your attention drifts as you catch another glimpse of Agatha, who is now leaning a bit too close to her companion, laughing a little too hard at something they say. Her fingers graze their wrist, and you feel a knot of annoyance tighten in your stomach.

You turn back to Rio, forcing a smile. “That sounds amazing...”

As you attempt to redirect the conversation, Agatha’s laughter rings out again, this time drawing out her iconic cackle, and you feel the heat of frustration bubble up inside you. You steal another glance at her, catching her playing with the producer’s fingers, and that’s it.

“Excuse me for a second...” you mutter under your breath, pushing back your chair with a noise that draws attention. You stand abruptly, not caring if anyone is looking, and storm away from the table, the air around you suddenly feeling too stifling.

As you pace towards the exit, the soft murmur of conversation behind you fades, drowned out by the thudding of your heart in your chest. You reach the elevator, and the doors begin to slide shut just as you take a breath to steady yourself.

And the second that the doors almost close, is the same second that a hand shoots out, catching the door and forcing it back open.

Agatha.

Your mouth goes dry, and your heart skips, responding to her presence like clockwork.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice smooth as silk, laced with an undertone that makes your pulse quicken.

“I just needed some air,” you reply, trying to sound casual, but the way she’s looking at you makes it impossible to hide the tremor in your voice.

“Air?” she echoes, stepping closer, her gaze steady and piercing. “Why? You seemed pretty… relaxed out there with Rio.”

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you do your best to hold your composure. “And what about you? I saw you flirting with that producer all dinner.”

Agatha tilts her head, an amused smile dancing on her lips. “Flirting? Hardly. I was simply being professional, and sometimes you need to play into their hands in this industry.” Her expression furrows as she steps even closer, the air between you thick with electricity. “But I’ll admit, it’s adorable how you think you can tease me and get away with it, pet.”

She continues, leaning in, “Two can play at this game, sweetheart. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she looked at you? I think you were forgetting who you belong to.”

Your breath hitches at her words, the possessive undertone igniting within you. “Well, maybe I’m not so easy to claim.”

“Oh, but I think you are.” She steps closer, closing the space between you, “You just need a little reminder.”

Before you can respond, Agatha closes the distance between you with one swift, powerful motion, slamming you against the wall of the elevator. The cool metal presses against your back, causing you to gasp.

“Agatha…” you breathe, but she silences you with her lips, crashing into you with a fervour that ignites every nerve ending in your body. The kiss is urgent and demanding, her hands framing your face as she tilts your head to deepen the connection. You melt against her, responding with equal intensity, the frustration and heat of the moment fuelling your desire.

You gasp helplessly into her hot mouth as she brushes her tongue against yours, igniting a wildfire of longing that tears through you. Her kiss is a heady mix of passion and desperation, each sweep of her tongue sends shivers shaking all over you. You feel her breath hot and rapid against your skin, mixing with the soft sighs that escape from your lips.

Every second stretches into eternity as you lose yourself in her, the world outside the elevator fading into darkness. You explore the intoxicating taste of her lips, rich with the hint of the champagne you shared; the overwhelming strength of her hold wraps around you like a spell. You run your hands up her blazer, your fingers reaching and tangling in her long brown hair, pulling her even closer.

You want to surrender yourself to her completely.

A soft moan escapes your mouth, echoing in the confined space, and Agatha responds immediately, deepening the kiss. It’s as if she craves the sound, as if every whimper from your lips is a reward she cannot resist. Her mouth captures every ounce of your breath, each kiss a sweet torment that leaves you aching for more. She pulls your bottom lip into her mouth, teasingly grazing it with her teeth, sending a rush pooling through you that makes you whimper louder.

And the second that sound slips past your lips, is the same second that Agatha can’t contain the low, throaty sigh that escapes her.

Time seems to compress, each heartbeat reverberating in your chest, leaving you breathless and aching for more, as if every inch of you is ablaze—and only Agatha has the power to quell the flames.

And then, without a word, she reaches into her pocket, retrieving a sleek hotel key card. You manage to catch a glimpse of what it swipes on the elevator panel:

Penthouse Suite

Your breath catches.

Your heart thuds.

Every inch of you pulses at the implication.

Breaking the kiss once more, Agatha pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression a mix of possessiveness and desire.

“It’s time to show you who you really belong to.”

Continue reading on AO3:

[hexy-lynesdein]

I talked about this scene of Agatha recruiting Lilia in my priv, twitter acc back then but somehow I felt the need to bring it up again (and this time on Tumblr) since not enough people are talking about this.

I think we all, as a society, moved on wayyyyyy too fast from this scene.

Agatha lowkey didn't fw divination because she couldn't cheat her way through it. The way her face dawned in realization in each word that Lilia uttered to her.. I could almost see the thought process in her head, it's almost comical (do ignore the pict quality people 🙏🏻).

Agatha is so skeptical of Lilia at first, she's like “Okay, let's hear what other nonsense this old kooky witch has to say”. Only for Lilia to read her like an open book. And Agatha has only been standing and fucking around in her shop for like.. what? Ten minutes? And you mean to tell her this bitch already caught up on what it is that she was about to do? Bonkers!

“It's not the first time your witch kin betrayed you. But you survive, in a way few do. In fact, it's why you're here. And I am not interested.”

Her expression. These are the faces of a woman who's impressed, annoyed, pissed, and turned on by such a display of power and skill for a short amount of time. And dare I say that Agatha felt almost... a pity? Later on, for Lilia. Not because of her seeing Lilia screaming like a madman when she was in her kitchen. But rather because she knew what she was about to do. She is going to take Lilia's power, in one way or another. And that means she's going to kill her fellow centuries old, exceptional and magnificent witch. And it's a shame, really.

And on a separate note, can we also talk about the tension that Agatha and Lilia have in that scene? It screams history to me, like come on now. The show of push and pull, them going “Oh so that's how it is? Fine, let's play your game”, both witches knowing exactly what and who the other is, but the information never once scaring them and piqued their interest instead. I might be reading too deep into these but honestly for such a brief meet up, these two have so many things going on — it's kinda insane.

[uyuartik]

I'm Starving, Darling (modern obi wan kenobi x reader)

tags: modern!obi wan, teeth rotting fluff, suggestive themes, mention of anakin and satine, this is basically my love letter to the perfection that is obi wan, yes i used a hozier title sue me, y'all are so lucky that this was before "too sweet"

summary: Obi Wan wakes you up from an unplanned nap.

a/n: back dated fic now on tumblr | link to ao3

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and let me know your thoughts in the comments!

enjoy!!!

word count: 1078

You wake up to the feeling of the bed dipping and you hear him, seeing him. “Time to wake up, love.”

Bed? When did you even go to bed? Have you fallen asleep? Why does everything look so bright and so orange?

His voice doesn’t help you to establish a sense of reality, prolonging your stay in the dreamland. It is so deep and rich, filled with sweetness, and so close to your ear. You can practically feel the words touching your skin.

Then again, the same sweetness pulls you back to the world, for how could you deny his wishes? Your eyes flutter at the warm rays that slither from the window, desperately fighting back to be closed. It must be sunset, your mind somehow gathers as the struggle continues. Hi, you want to say back, how long has it been.

It remains as a thought once you see his face, illuminated by the golden hour of the day.

Every word dies in the tip of your tongue as you get to see him properly, pupils adjusting to the light. How could you ask him anything, when he looked this angelic under the afternoon sky? A face straight out of paintings. The shadow of his beard only enhances the contours of his prominent cheekbones, and does nothing the hide his plush lips, the corners of it humorously twisted upwards. Even the unruly piece of hair that hangs right in front of his eyes takes nothing away from his perfect image, and above all, his brilliant blue eyes, gazing at you with all the adoration in the world. In older times, he would’ve been titled a prince, capturing every heart in the kingdom (and even beyond), and breaking it all, except one. Yet, here we were, hovering over you, dedicated to making his love known from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to sleep. This is what heaven must be like, and nothing else, you conclude. How did you get so lucky?

Oh, and lucky you were indeed, and devastatingly patient. Not like you had any other choice, you knew from the moment you met him that he would be the one, and only one. His charm had worked too well on you, and every kind gesture, every mischievous one-liner amplified your crush, which had turned into pure love in no time. Yet, you never had to courage to confess your feelings. When you found it though, the predicament had transformed into a timing problem. You didn’t feel okay with bringing up this subject when he was dealing with heavy issues; Satine’s death, Anakin’s betrayal… You couldn’t leave him alone, and you couldn’t stay too close in fear of somehow feeding your selfish compulsions. You still remember how your hands shook as you texted back your reply to his proposal for a date. That was the last time you cried out of happiness, because Obi Wan took great care not to make you cry, even when he filled your soul with joy.

You blush as his hand removes stray hairs from your face, oh god, you must be an absolute mess right now, with puffy cheeks and a bird’s nest on top of your head, and turn red as his hand travels to your chin, kindly pushing your mouth close with a quiet laugh.

Great. You were literally ogling him with your jaw hanging wide.

You bite the inside of your lip, fighting hard not to hide behind your palms. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

His eyebrows furrow, finding your need for an apology nonsense. “You seemed like you needed it.”

It is your time to challenge his words, scrunching your face. You weren’t even tired, just lazy enough to pass out.

“Besides, you look so cute when you’re sleeping.”

This one actually has your head shaking side to side, yet his words find a way into the depths of your chest, like a thousand butterflies fly in your insides, their wings tickling your soul.

You look out of the window for a second, trying to gather your wits. “What time is it?”

He lowers himself further, resting his weight on his elbow. As your eyes meet again, he dips enough to let your lips touch, stealing a small kiss. Your hand is too slow to bury itself in his hair, but you continue to do so, caressing his soft strands. He releases a content hum, and answers. “19.00.”

Fuck. You two usually have dinners earlier than this hour, and you feel guilty about this unnecessary nap, knowing how much he loves to enjoy the meal with you. And not only the meal, the preparation process, and setting the table… It is the time you talk about your days, catching up on each other's lives and occasionally, gossiping.  Yes, he loved his tea, and you loved the subtle color on his cheeks whenever he got too self-aware while doing it. “Have you eaten?”

“No, I waited for you.”

“Obi Wan…” You whine, remorse settling in even more. “Aren’t you hungry?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but his stomach decides to take on the role, the grumble echoing in the silent room. You are horrified to hear that, yet his chuckle encompasses the atmosphere, his head thrown back, then landing in the crook of your neck, his battle to stay upright lost.

One hand tries to push him off of your body, the other landing against the sheets to pull yourself up to your feet. He defies all attempts as he keeps laughing. His arm envelops your waist, pressing your bodies closer. You can feel him vibrating, and his nose brushes up against your skin, calling the butterflies back when you hear him inhaling your scent.

“That’s why I am waking you up,” he wanted to say, before getting distracted by your sweet essence. “You smell so good.” He murmurs, the sound barely meaningful by the time it reaches your ears. You don’t know how to answer, and he continues to rub his face against your neck, the faint abrasion from his beard all but welcomed in your eyes. “And you are so warm.” He wraps his arm around you even tighter and places a kiss wherever he can reach, then another, then another, each one sultrier than the last.

“Come on, Obi Wan.” You usher, your voice shaky. “You are hungry.”

“Starving,” He corrects you. “Though, not for dinner.”

[briar-ffxiv]

Hate to do this, but if anyone can help

TL: DR - Due to a lot of financial strain this year and moving before we planned to with little notice, my cats and my family don't have money for groceries for the next few months. We just need to make it to January and we've been trying hard, eating as cheap as possible, not going out, no extra services, etc. Heck, I only have FFXIV because a friend was nice enough to help.

But now, we're out of money and next paycheck once we cover rent and bills, we'll have less than $30. And unfortunately, we need to eat.

So if anyone can help, I'd appreciate it. Anything. Thank you. <3

Below the read-more are the longer details. If anyone doesn't mind boosting or something, I'd be grateful.

More Details:

Basically, due to having to move at least a year sooner than expected with less than 60 days' notice, we've used up every bit of savings and resources we have. Plus, due to some other financial nonsense, including the past roommates being terrible and my spouse's work using loopholes to avoid paying him overtime, we're finally having a really rough time.

We can just cover rent and the minimal bills. Several months ago, we turned off anything we didn't completely need. That includes streaming services, games, and what have you. Heck, we wouldn't have kept on the internet if my spouse didn't need it for work.

We were just trying to hold on until New Year. The New Year means a mandatory raise for my spouse and his boss has promised it's a good one (due to several years of him getting the minimum under his previous boss who was fired for several reasons). So we've been just trying to make it and just have a few months left.

Unfortunately, with just a few months to go, we've basically maxed out all we can. The next step is trying to rehome my cats to remove the cost of maintaining them, although I hate to do it. I really don't want to. Pretty much every cat I have, I either rescued and/or raised from birth. But I'm certainly not going to let them starve or suffer.

I have been trying for months to get a job, but due to personal things and limited options (only one car with limited gas, etc.), I haven't been able to find anything. I keep sending out forms and not hearing much. Due to gas prices and such, I can't even do UberEats or Doordash or something. I'm at a loss and I feel completely useless in trying to help my spouse at the moment.

I really hate asking. My little Tumblr is just cute stuff with my character, aesthetics, and trying to be positive. I'm just really desperate because I don't know what else to do.

We've looked into state help, but I live in Texas and their "poverty line" is absolutely ridiculous. My spouse makes "too much" for us to get the benefits of any kind of help, even temporarily. Due to the crappy roommates, our credit isn't great and we're already struggling to pay off things so getting a loan is pretty much impossible.

I don't really have any skills that people would pay for commissions for. I'd be happy to do writing commissions or something, but I've never had much luck with that.

So, yeah, I just...I really need some help getting through the next 60 days or so. So if you've read all this, thank you. If you reblog, thank you. If you feel like giving anything, thank you. Even if it's just kind thoughts, I appreciate it so much.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart,

Bard

[shieldofiron]

Vibe Check

Part 13: No Sleep Til Hawkins

Part 13, Also on Ao3 here and tumblr here

Billy gives up on sleep around 3 am. He’s pretty sure his will to pretend he’s asleep tires out just about the same time as Munson’s girlfriend because it’s silent for once.

He rolls on his side, watching Steve sleep. Steve had babbled nervously right up to the point of sleep and past it, his nonsense mumbles finally petering out.

He knows Steve is nervous, but for fuck’s sake, so is he. At least Steve isn’t dealing with heartbreak on top of that.

Billy sits up and rubs his eyes, conceding defeat. There’s no way he’s going to get any sleep, so he might as well be productive.

He slides out of bed and grabs his backpack before quietly slipping out. It’s not really due for a few days but he has an American Lit paper and it beats lying there in the dark ignoring screams and counting all the tiny fractures in his heart.

The house is quiet. Some of the brothers haven’t even come home from the parties. Billy is hoping when they do they’ll all head up to bed and ignore him in the lounge.

He doesn’t want to see anybody when it feels like he’s lived several lives since this morning. At this point he’s just feral, hardly human. It hurts, the ache in his chest. At the same time though, there’s such a bittersweet relief. Steve knows, and what’s more, Billy wasn’t crazy. They do have chemistry, even if Steve can’t see it.

But he can’t keep turning it around in his head, especially while he’s still tipsy. He has to get out of this headspace.

On the way to the lounge he decides to swing by the kitchens for a snack and maybe a gatorade. The cooks are seasoned frat professionals and they tend to have at least a few things prepared Saturday night in advance. Sometimes it’s overly healthy, but that works for him.

Billy flips on the light and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees what looks like a black cloaked figure. Christ, maybe he’s dreaming.

The figure turns from where it’s hunched over a bowl of bananas, mouth full.

“Christ, Munson,” Billy drops his backpack and covers his face with his hands. “I thought you were the fuckin’ hat man.”

Munson smiles around his banana, “So’ry.”

Billy lets his shoulders fall, “No worries. Though I wish you would actually lay off the potassium. Christ, my ears would thank you for a cramp some nights.”

“Why?”

“Because, man… we gotta sleep sometimes,” Billy rolls his eyes and flops down in the seat next to Munson’s.

Eddie turns beet red. “You… can hear us?”

Billy remembers too late that he and Steve had more or less agreed to not talk about Munson’s girlfriend. Argyle had been weirdly adamant about leaving him be. ‘Don’t rush the dude, that’s just not your business,’ were Argyle’s exact words.

“Whoops,” Billy cringes a bit. “But… I mean come on, man. Your girlfriend screams like she’s getting murdered. And it’s almost every night. Of course we noticed.”

Munson lets out a noise like a rat caught in a trap and hunches into the collar of his fluffy black robe. He looks chalky pale, like he got caught by a cop.

“And I mean, hey, good on you, dude. Like I’m pretty sure you’re having the kind of sex only lesbians have.” Then Billy remembers Carver and nervousness creeps in. “Not that… jeez, not in like a gross homophobic way.”

“Lesbians?” Munsons squeezes the remaining banana in his hands into a pulp.

“Christ.” Billy gives up and sags against the counter. “It’s been a really weird night, man. I just… I was just trying to make a joke about your girlfriend. Nothing weird.”

Munson blinks with those big brown doe eyes. “My girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but I really meant no offense by it, I swear.” Billy held up his hands.

Munson stares at him a beat, and then he lets out the tiniest nervous giggle. “Girlfriend.”

Then he full on laughs, throwing his head back.

“Oh, or… not girlfriend?” Billy frowns. “I guess.”

Munson still laughs, harder and more full bodied.

“Well now this is just mean, Munson. If this is how you treat a lady, I’ll go up there and steal her for myself.” Billy licks his lower lip.

Munson’s hand shoots out and he grabs Billy, smearing bananas all over Billy’s arm. “Do. Not.”

Billy winces, yanking his arm away, and reaches for a paper towel to wipe his hand off.

“She’s like… really classy.” Munson says sheepishly. “She’d be mortified you heard her in my room. Please don’t.”

“I wasn’t really gonna wake a chick up who you left in bed.” Billy rolls his eyes. “What kind of guy do you take me for?”

Munson shrugs. “Same kind as me, that’s why I don’t want you to piss her off. I’m serious.”

Billy tosses the slimy paper towel on the counter and crosses his arms. “So she’s classy. What is she? Tri Delt?”

Munson sighs. “No.”

“Zeta?”

“No!”

“Don’t tell me she’s one of your theater friends?” Billy frowns.

“Hargrove, stop.”

“Does Eden know her? I bet she-”

Munson grabs at him again, looking wild. “Hargrove, listen. Don’t talk to anyone about this, ok?” She’s like… not that kind of girl. She’s classy, ok? Rich and like… going places. She doesn’t want this. You haven’t told anyone already, have you?”

“No. I mean, Steve knows, obviously. And honestly I would ask Patrick and Matt across the hall. I assume Carver.” Billy shrugs with one shoulder. “Argyle told us to, like, protect your privacy or whatever?”

Eddie just nodded vaguely, looking only marginally less unhinged. His hair was mussed, and there was a rapidly developing hickey high on his chest.

“What’s with all the secrecy, anyway?” Billy gasped, and then grinned, “Is she a professor?”

“No, Jesus. She’s just… way the fuck out of my league. Like stratospherically out of my league.” Munson shakes his head and lets go of Billy’s shoulder.

“How stratospheric?”

“Super stratospheric. Like… Buzz Aldrin couldn’t land her.”

Billy whistled. “I have to know.”

Munson sighs. “Look, I’m eating bananas at 3 am. I’m a fucking loser. She’s sleeping to get to her 8 am and she has like a 4.5 GPA and her parents paid for a room in the library or something like that. I can’t talk about it because I’m just… a pressure reliever.”

Billy raises his brows.

Munson doesn’t miss the implication. “Yeah pretty much. I guess I just have slightly more functions than a vibrator.”

Billy grabs a banana for himself, because all the banana talk was making him hungry. “But you’ve been going on like a year now.”

“Ten months, two and a half weeks, three days and well… three hours.”

Billy tries to raise his brows even more but he doesn’t have any room.

Munson leans against the counter and rubs the back of his neck. “Being in l-love with her is one of my many functions.”

Billy almost feels like he could cry. Which is stupid. It’s silly. “That’s sad as fuck, dude.”

Munson sighs, slumping a little more. “Yeah, but what are you gonna do?”

“I dunno what you’re gonna do. I’m gonna sympathize.” Billy says.

“You too?”

“Yeah. At least you’re actually fucking your girl.” Billy mutters.

Eddie shakes his head, hair flopping. “Yeah. Been there too, big time.”

Billy peels his banana, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Same girl, too,” Munson says with a sad little flop of his bangs. “Got me wrapped around my finger since… God. Forever.”

Billy shook his head. “Damn. You, me, and Carver gotta go out sometime.”

“C-Carver?”

Billy nods. “Yeah. He was just telling me about his dating troubles. I’m sure you’ve heard at least some of it.”

“Oh. Right.” Munson nods back almost absently, looking kind of pale again.

“But, hey. You’re fucking your dream girl!” Billy pats Munson’s shoulder uncertainly. “Bring her a banana! Woo her ass, I dunno. She’s gotta be into you at least a little.”

“You think?” Munson looks so innocent like Billy hasn’t heard him do the least classy things ever to his classy girl.

“Your one year anniversary is coming up? I dunno. Don’t take advice from me, I don’t notice anything, apparently.” Billy sighs, leaning forward on his elbows and taking a bite. “It’s been a really weird fuckin’ night, so seriously don’t take my advice.”

Eddie nods slightly, frowning in confusion.

Billy wants to burst into tears or something like that. He thought telling Steve would just end the world, and now the world is apparently still spinning. Munson’s in tragic love too.

Coming out once doesn’t make coming out again any easier. So he resists the impulse to dump the whole sordid tale on Munson, even if he kind of wants to. Because Steve just came out. Billy can’t ruin this time with his own stupid hopeless feelings.

So instead he takes another bite and gets up to grab a gatorade from the fridge, shoving it into the pocket of his sweat shorts.

“Sorry, man, I’m tired. Just rambling. If you ever want to talk about your girl, I’m here for ya, ok?” Billy says.

“Thanks. Uh… you too. You know, if you ever…” Munson peters out, gesturing weakly.

Billy cackles and it comes out way too forced, but he commits to it anyway. “Well, you know me. I have 99 bitches but not one’s a problem.”

Eddie laughs a little, toying with the messy banana peel nervously.

Billy pats Munson on the shoulder and walks back to his room without a second thought, fully leaving his backpack behind. He was supposed to go downstairs.

But Steve is asleep so peacefully. Billy stands at the door and just stares. Steve always sleeps splayed out like a starfish, one of his feet dangling over the side of the bed. Tonight he has his mouth open, drooling slightly.

Billy has kissed that mouth. He wishes he could go back in time and slow that moment down forever.

Steve was still the worst person to fall in love with, the most unforgivable. And now it would be even harder because Steve had said it so strongly tonight. They would only ever be friends.

Billy wants so badly for anything to be different. He wishes suddenly he’d gone to any other school, anywhere else on earth. He wants to be in Eddie’s place because surely it would be better to be something than nothing at all.

Or is this better. Maybe now he can finally accept-

“B’lly?” Steve still has his eyes closed. “Close th’ door.”

Billy freezes for a moment, before shutting the door gently, plunging the room back into semi-darkness.

By the light of the streetlamp outside and the Frat’s shitty old alarm clock, he can just make out Steve scooting over and raising the blankets on his bed.

“C’mon,” He says.

Billy thinks of what Munson said as he crawls in next to Steve. He tosses the gatorade across the room and settles next to that warm body he knows all too well. Steve pulls up the fuzzy blanket that his mom bought him for Hanukkah last year, the one that smells like weed and Steve. The bed feels scorching hot, and Steve’s long limbs immediately lash around Billy, holding him with the perfect tightness. Steve presses his chest to Billy’s back and sighs, his minty-beer breath brushing the back of Billy’s neck. Billy’s skin prickles everywhere they touch, with almost the same sting as embarrassment.

That this is just one of his many functions. That in some ways he should let go, but he was meant to love Steve like this. Maybe he couldn’t have helped it.

Steve hums. “Promise. N’thing will change, right? We won’t be weird?”

Billy feels like he’s shattered, held together by Steve’s limbs, squeezing tight.

“Yeah,” He says, ignoring the tears that get squeezed free.

[waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle]

ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎

Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?

Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)

-Secret crush Gojo!

-Yandere Gojo

Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.

Warnings: trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia. Violence and use of blood!

Wc:1.8k

🏷:@busyreader17 @starlight5cat @xavlyzn

(Idk If I was supposed to tag y’all in the new chapter, sorry if it bothers you but I’m kinda new to this whole fanfic tumblr thing 🙈🫶🏻)

Chapter 4

*　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦

As the busy Shanghai nightlife contrasted your gloominess with its vibrant lights and loud people, you allowed your anger to fuel your fast-paced steps to lead you to your destination.

What destination exactly?

Well…

You didn’t know just yet.

Before you could notice you got lost in the beautiful chaos that is this city, a city where you know no one and all you have on yourself is your cellphone. As you stood still thinking about what your next move should be, then you suddenly smiled at yourself as you remembered you somehow managed to lose that long-legged freak about two blocks ago.

That peace is shortly interrupted as you feel a cold finger touch your shoulder from the Back.

-“I Know I have made a mistake and I’ll accept any punishment that doesn’t include you leaving my side. That one is the most unbearable of them all.”-He muttered as he looked down unable to face your distraught expression.-“Plus did you really think you’d lose me after springing some blocks?”- He said as he returned his gaze to yours.-“ I always come back you know. And for you specifically, I’ll even crawl back if it’s necessary.”

To you it sounded like a joke but you would be surprised if you knew what he was capable of doing for your love.

All you could do was give him a disgusted look as you responded.

-“You make me sick, what’s your fucking problem?! You dare to almost put me and jail and then you show up high and mighty begging for forgiveness?? Why should I forgive you? All you’ve caused me are problems and to your discontent, I’m finally done with all of this.”

He showed a displeased expression as he noticed you didn’t care for his sincere apology, but he wasn’t gonna let this slide so he pulled you into an abandoned alleyway with the hopes that you could talk better.

-“Let go of me! I’m not going anywhere with you.”-you blurted out as you smacked his hand away.

-“Please just hear me out, if you're not content with my apology I’ll let you go.”- He lied through his teeth as he showed you his puppy eyes.He was putting his life on the line with this acting gig , he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you decided to abandon him.

You glare at him in a distrusting matter, but as you recall he’s never been dishonest right up to this moment. So you lower your claws and follow him to where he wants to go.

-“If I’m being honest with you I’m not used to treating normal people like you, I’m used to treating thugs who wouldn’t give a damn if they lost everything in a second. So I could say that I did what I did thinking you wouldn’t care for much for it, now l know it’s not an excuse and I’ll have you know that I take full responsibility for my actions and that I-“

Gojo was interrupted during his speech by a rustle at the entrance of the alleyway.

The next thing you know a beer bottle is being thrown next to your head, you can’t help but scream out and duck to the floor trying to process what just happened, your boss turns as he feels for something under his coat, scanning the area for danger.

As the steps, Drew closer a group of 3 tough -looking guys stomped in, each of them playing with a different weapon in their rough scarred hand. As they targeted the two of you with their eyes the tallest who seemed to be the leader ultimately spoke.

-“Finally I catch you two alone, sorry to break up your lover's quarrel but me and that albino bastard have some business to tend to. So I’ll let a fine lady like yourself leave, but you.”- He spat out as he pointed a flick knife directly at gojo.-“But since this cheating mother fucker doesn’t know how to respect my boss’s territory. I guess I’ll have to teach this preppy son of a bitch some respect.”

You looked up at Gojo for some sort of response but all he did was stare at the offender as if he knew something the other party didn’t. As if this confrontation was an opportunity instead of an inconvenience. An opportunity to let go of all of his pent-up frustration, an opportunity to let all his raw, nasty feelings out after caging them up for a gentleman-like facade for your pretty self.

-“3 against one. Your boss’s a bitch for sending you all to do this.”-Gojo said as he looked around for something, as soon as he found what he was looking for his eyes sparkled. He crouched down and cuffed up his charcoal grey suit up to his elbows revealing a tattoed forearm twisted with black and white thorns.

As the tall figure in front of you grasped a long metal tube; he flexed his veins in the dim night light. In your time meeting him you never thought that he had all that ink under those tailored designed suits.

-“Awww how cute gonna defend your girlfriend? If you feel the odds against you; we’ll let her join, we won’t be too hard on her.”-The offender slurred as he looked at your trembling frame, hugging your knees as if you could hide like a ball.

Cold sweat adorned your forehead as you pondered the chances of getting out of this one alive, you couldn’t yell out for help or call trusty Geto without the gangster knowing. All you could do was pray that Gojo could land a hard punch and that your quivering knees wouldn’t give up on you if you managed to run away.

Next, their leader clenched his sticknife firmly in his hand as he launched forward at Gojo, but to your surprise, your boss swung back the metal stick as if it was a baseball bat that then struck the poor man’s head; his head bounced at impact, the force of the hit forcing his body to slum against the brick wall.

-“Gojo!”-You yelled out in horror with the hopes that all this nightmare and suffering would end in a second.

-“Sorry baby, please turn away. Who hits first; hits hardest.”-Grumbled the icy-eyed man as he looked back at you for a split second he wore the biggest smile on his blood-splattered face.

As soon as they saw their leader down the two henchmen tried to attack Gojo but before they could get close enough your knight in rusted armor whacked the pole against oh the guy's stomach causing him to hit the ground in excruciating pain as he grasped his stomach, next thing you know the other guy has his knees shattered as is now sobbing as he clutches his legs, rolling in pain.

You didn’t want this, this isn’t what you had planned, all you wanted to do was explore the city, but before you could continue to lament yourself as you lay there in shock looking at the agonizing figures before you. The noise of the metal stick hitting the ground interrupts you. Slowly your boss starts to get closer and soon you smell the blood reek on his tux.

Before he could say anything you lunged to hug his built torso as you cried into his chest smearing mascara all over the expensive cloth, he felt his heart flutter at the feeling of having you all on him in a disheveled matter. And as soon as he hugged you back, all the chaos was worth it for him. He would beat up as many guys as necessary just so he could sense your small frame quiver under his touch as you looked for solace in him.

And if you were being honest, you hated to admit it but you felt protected and cared as he combed your hair with his slender fingers. Your cheeks blushes as he planted a chaste kiss on the crown of your head.

Sniffing his cologne mixed with sweat and blood wasn’t all that bad if he continued to Pat you back with one hand as he swaddled your face with the other. Maybe you were taking advantage of the situation but your heart felt full and warm as he coddled you in his arms.

But as if god heard you and punished you for your thoughts he promptly stepped away to look into your teary eyes and say.

-“C'mon princess, we gotta leave this place.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

It is currently 12 am and you are back at the villa, as you try to comprehend all that just happened, Gojo swipes a warm wet cloth across your face attempting to remove your ruined makeup. The bed sunk under his weight as he carefully tugged your eyelashes under the damp towel to get you as clean as possible as he sat beside you in clean fresh sweat.

Geto stands beside him as the guilt eats him up for not protecting you as he should have.

All he did was run to your rescue as soon as his best friend gave him your location. But in the end, all he felt like was a useless piece of shit, as he stared at your puffy eyes his cell phone rang in his pocket, he then promptly exits the room putting the bowl on the nightstand so he could take the call and not bother you any further.

As your boss notices you start to yawn, he quickly stands up to cover you with a fluffy blanket that is laid at your bed rest.

-“I feel pathetic, You're the one that saved mebut here you are tending to me.”-You mumbled as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

He just grinned and patted your head.

-“I was the one who put you in that mess, so in the end I hope you find forgiveness in your heart for an idiot like me.”- He responded as he scratched his undercut.

You managed to let out a chuckle.

-“You saved my life, I guess we can call it even then.”- Even though it cost you to say that in the end he deserved it. You knew what kind of business you were getting into , and even though he lied to you, he defended you like nobody would. But you still had it crystal clear that is he slipped up again , you would be a goner

His heart melted as those compassionate words left your mouth, he knew he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. But as you indulged his sins he couldn’t help but love you more than yesterday. He knew he was in debt to you, and it just so happened that he was a man who liked to pay his dues, so he promised to himself that he wouldn’t let anyone including himself hurt you. Even if it meant following you around the world like a shadow, he was willing to make that “sacrifice”.

-“Well after hearing you say that; I guess I can sleep in peace tonight. Goodnight sweet thing.”-He voiced as he rubbed your cheek with his callous thumb.

As he turned to head to the door, your small hand pinched the back of his shirt to his attention. He swiftly turns around and he raises an eyebrow in a playful matter as he waits for you to voice out your need that stopped him from heading to his bedroom.

-“Can you stay here with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

*　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦　　　. *　　 　　✦

A/n: omg that was crazy , I tried to write this chapter as realistically as possible since I haven’t been in a gang fight yet but if I am I’ll confirm or deny the readers pov. I hope you guys enjoyed it and if you have any comments or request please let me know it really motivates me to hear back from you guys. Till next week kisses!! 💋🥰♥️ I’ll finish editing the font tomorrow it’s 3am as I’m writing this I’m so sleepy zzzz

[gudfornuthin]

Hello I made a request a while back but you never got to it and that is completely okay! I understand completely being a writer myself. I was wondering if I could make a different request but not sure if you do it? It’s a request for Billy from stranger things?

Idea- Yn and Billy have been together for a few years and Billy survives when he is attacked. Ever since YN has hard time with nightmares but doesn’t tell Billy about it. And YN stays the night at his place and wakes up from a nightmare calling out for Billy and doesn’t see him in bed. Max comes in to trying to calm her down but YN thinks Billy is dead. Billy comes from outside in when he heard loud crying and shouting from his girlfriend. And he holds her telling her he is going nowhere and he is okay.

( Nickname: Baby or Babygirl ) if possible

I hope this isn’t too over barring but if so I completely understand. And won’t be upset if you turn down my request. Thank you for hearing me out my love!

Not going anywhere

Billy Hargrove x reader

A/N: so I’m back into my writing hit! I do apologise anon for taking way too long to do this, and idk if the other request ever came through, as my tumblr says I have three but it’s only showing this one. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and hopefully imma be writing a lot more from now on. Feedback is appreciated :)

The mall was in ruins. The Mind Flayer continued its rampage, smashing anything that got in its way. The group consisting of teens and adults had split up just moments ago, putting their plan into motion and hoping to pull it off. It all came down to this moment, defeating the monster and making it home safe.

Y/N hides behind a turned over table, battered and bruised with an arm that’s most definitely broken. She’s not a hero. She’s not used to this life, dealing with these nonsensical creatures. Her boyfriend and his sister are to blame for that.

Billy wasn’t the asshole play boy everyone claimed him to be. Not since they started dating. He’s soft, and kind, and cares. Sometimes too much. He’d never dreamed of dragging Y/N into this mess, but love does stupid things to a person. And she definitely wasn’t letting him go through all this alone.

Speaking of her boyfriend, she finally hears his shouts not far from her hiding place. She pops her head up slightly, and spots Billy running towards her.

“Baby?” His eyes land on her. “Oh thank god, I was wondering where the hell you were.”

Y/N stands up, moving towards him, wanting nothing more than to hold him tight and never let go. Before she has the chance to reach him, a long arm crashes through the wall, heading directly for Billy. The Mind Flayer. It pierces him in the chest, black sludge spurting from his mouth. Y/N lets out a visceral scream, falling to her knees. She looks into the eyes of her dying boyfriend, knowing there’s nothing she can do to help him.

Arms wrap around Y/N’s waist, pulling her away from the massacre before her. She turns her head, coming face to face with Billy’s sister Max, a sad expression on her face.

“Y/N?”

“He’s dead,” she replies to Max, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I should’ve saved him. He’s fucking dead.”

“Y/N please-”

Max’s words fall on deaf ears. “No, I can’t do this.”

“Y/N, you have to wake up.”

“He’s fucking dead!”

“Y/N! Wake. Up!”

Y/N jolts up from her lying position, sweat covering her entire body, breathing heavily. Max sits in front of her, hands on her shoulders. She looks terrified.

Y/N glances to her left, the space next to her empty. She starts to panic again.

“Where’s Billy?”

“Y/N you need to calm down-”

“The Mind Flayer, it got to him.”

Max shakes her head. “Hey, he’s just gone outside to-”

Y/N pulls at her hair, more tears threatening to fall. “No, he’s dead. I just saw him die, and I couldn’t do anything.”

She continues mumbling under her breath, ignoring Max’s pleas, promising her he’s okay. She hugs her stomach, falling on her side and closing her eyes. Max tries soothing the girl, but once again nothing works. There’s only one person who can fix this, and even though Max knows he doesn’t like to be disturbed during his ‘brooding smoke session’, she thinks he’ll let it slide this once. For his girl.

***

Billy stands outside the house, shirtless, with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He’s thought about quitting, having this conversation on the daily with Y/N. She doesn’t mind too much, just hates the smell. He doesn’t smoke indoors anymore, and always has a can of body spray and a pack of mint gums on hand. For her.

He takes a final drag, when Max rushes out the house, almost toppling over him. Her face almost matches her hair, as she grabs his arm and pulls him towards the front door.

“Maxine, do you fucking mind?” He tries not to snap at her as much as he used to, but sometimes it’s hard not to. “I can’t have five minutes of me time?”

Max continues dragging him. “It’s Y/N.”

That catches his attention, as he pushes her hand off his arm and runs into the house, not bothering to ask any questions.

He makes his way to his bedroom, pushing the door open and spotting his girlfriend lying in a curled up ball on the bed, hands on her face and sobs shaking her body. He sits down next to her, hands resting on her back as he lowers his voice just so she can hear.

“Y/N, baby?”

She doesn’t respond, but her breathing slows, acknowledging his words. Billy runs his hands down to her arms, then her face, gently lifting her head. He runs his thumbs over her eyes, and she finally opens them, bloodshot and red.

“Billy?”

He kisses her briefly on the lips. “I’m here baby girl. I’m right here.”

“I thought you’d-” she doesn’t finish her sentence, but Billy can guess where it was going.

“I’m okay, see,” he kisses her again, then her cheeks, then the crown of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

As if waking from a trance, Y/N throws herself at Billy, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He hugs her back, his arms snaking around her waist, pressing his face into her hair. They stay there for what seems like hours, both not realising how badly they needed comfort from each other. They were together, and that’s all that mattered.

[kerrikins]

The casting for 4 Minutes, the trailer and the subsequent discourse in the fandom has really reminded me of how far the BL sphere has to go in terms of working past stereotypes and bias. (I'll note here that I actually don't know how much of this has gone on here on Tumblr, I'm mostly talking about what I've seen on Twitter and Tiktok).

From the start it weirded me out to see people say stuff like 'obviously it's JesBible' as soon as the casting was announced. Because like - based on WHAT? Regardless of what turns out to be the case (or what we've seen from the trailer, now), at that point the ONLY thing to go on was stereotypes. Jes is taller and a bit bigger so therefore 'obviously' he's the top, right?

Gross. (And oh, I really need the BL world to give me a show with a big masculine bottom and a shorter top just to see some of these small minds struggle to wrap around the concept, lol.)

Then there's been the absolute obsession with the topic of 'omg is it JesBible or BibleJes' ever since the announcement. I expected it from the fandom, but the extent that it's gone on and then also hearing it from the media as well this week was so off-putting. It's reminded me that people really don't like it when they aren't given immediate confirmation of their biases and pre-defined boxes, and they don't like not being given answers, either.

I'll pause here to say that oh, I so appreciate how both Bible and Jes have handled this. They've both made it clear that it doesn't matter, that it's not relevant. Bible even said at one point that 'BibleJes or JesBible doesn't matter, you should think more about whether it's GreatTyme or TymeGreat', haha. (Also, I just want to say that I agree with what one of my friends on Twitter said - maybe, just maybe, 4 Minutes will be the show where we start rejecting this rigid defining of pairs based on who's supposed to be 'the top' or 'the bottom'? Because personally I think BibleJes and GreatTyme sound a lot better than the other way around, lol.)

Another thing I've seen come up is 'oh it's weird to see Bible being a bottom', 'it's weird to see Bible being submissive'.

Girl, what?

He's an actor. Why would he not play a variety of roles! I never see people say 'oh, it's weird to see ____ play a villain', or at least it isn't something that's been said very often, so why is this coming up here? Again: stereotypes (and a bit of fetishization, probably).

As for submissive - one day people will realize that where body parts are going has nothing to do with submission and the world will be a happier place 😭

This is why I would really like to see BLs incorporate something that I haven't seen much of: switching. Both in terms of changing up what role the actors are playing, but also just straight up acknowledging that not all queer couples stick to rigid top/bottom roles! Of course some do, but some don't, and representation of that might help dispel some of this nonsense.

There's also always a faint whiff of bottom shaming that goes on in these conversations, a view that being a bottom is 'lesser' or 'weaker' and it really bothers me. It's insulting to the actors giving their all to the roles but it's also really insulting to all the queer men out there who are being viewed that way according to sexual preferences. (And that's without even touching on the heavy, heavy whiff of sexism and misogyny attached to all of this, because I'm sure we've all seen people refer to the bottom as 'the wife', etc).

Honestly, it just deepens my admiration for Jes and Bible in taking this on. Jes has already gotten a question about how his lakorn viewers will see him now and I think he fielded that admirably, talking about how he's an actor and he hopes/thinks they'll realize that. There's also a bit of an assumption that lakorn is a 'step up' from BL so I love to see him defying that. He's been very firm on handling the media, too - he had an interview yesterday and TWICE had to shoot them down on the 'BibleJes or JesBible' nonsense.

And of course, Bible, my baby - oh, I admire him in doing this. So many BL acting pairs stick to rigid roles and here he is, in only his second role, being willing to defy those and challenge how the fandom perceives him and take on all the weirdness and hate that he's inevitably going to get through at him. I've already seen some people expressing dismay and saying they can't/don't want to see him in this sort of role, and I'm sure he had to be aware that he was opening himself up to that. I'm so proud that he did it anyway and I hope those people reconsider their notions around top/bottom and their expectation that actors stay in neat little boxes.

And all the above is without even touching on all the delays and the history with 4 Minutes, which already made it a bit messy in the first place.

ANYWAY. I don't really know how to wrap this up, since I'm partly just venting here to get this off my chest. But I really hope that this opens up some conversations in the BL space and creates some change for the better.

[iydiamartinx]

FLAMES OF STARLIGHT

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗼 | 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

Pairing: Poly!Azriel x OC x Lucien

I'm still learning Tumblr and I just found out scheduled posts are a thing! I think I'll schedule the chapters for Monday, Wednesday and Friday until everything is caught up to my A03 account? Unless y'all prefer Friday, Saturday and Sunday?

Also I noticed someone blogging who knew me from Wattpad! Hi! I'm glad you found me again! For my readers who remember me from Wattpad, the reason I disappeared was because they removed my account. I lost most of my stories, so for any of you that were a fan of my other works, only this and Morning After Dark. But I am working on slowly rewriting some of my old works.

 ❝ 𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 

𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦. ❞

— 𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐳

VAL STRODE DOWN the snow and dirt-trodden road with purpose. Despite her aching bones, she kept their pace to a brisk walk. Feyre easily kept in step beside her while Nesta and Elain trailed behind them, clicking their tongues in disgust as they sneered down at their now muddied shoes.

The silence that Val and Feyre walked in was comfortable compared to the complaining Nesta and Elain did behind them. The wolf's pelt was folded safely in the satchel Feyre carried. It was the only reason Nesta and Elain even bothered to tag along, hoping to persuade Feyre into giving them some money. They knew better than to ask Val. She wasn't one to indulge their needless urge for finery. But Feyre, as the youngest, was less steadfast than Val and, as such, sometimes felt the need to concede to their demands. 

Eventually, the grim stone houses of the village came into view. It was market day, and despite not even reaching the small town square yet, she could hear the voices of merchants, vendors, and shoppers. 

The scent of hot food invaded Val's nose, and she had to suppress her groan. Elain, however, had no qualms of letting out a hungered moan. Val's stomach clenched. She longed for a proper meal, but quickly she tamped down that desire. Desire could be a dangerous thing. 

Val turned around the corner only to suddenly halt. Nesta, from behind her, let out a slight noise as she placed a hand on Val's shoulder to steady herself from the sudden stop. Val paid her sister no mind, her eyes on the pale-robed young woman and the matching cluster behind her. 

"May the Immortal Light shine upon thee, sisters," She said. 

Both Elain and Nesta made a noise of displeasure, even Feyre shifted in discomfort, but Val remained silent. She didn't particularly care for the Children of the Blessed, but it didn't mean she liked them either. Their devotion to the fae unnerved her, and their persistence to convert was annoying, but otherwise, they were all harmless preachers. 

 "Have you a moment to spare so that you might hear the Word of the Blessed?" The young woman questioned. She held out her hands in welcome, the bracelet of silver bells on her wrist letting out a tinkling chime. 

"Not at the moment," Val replied neutrally. At the same moment, Nesta sneered with much more hostility, "No, we don't." 

Nesta nudged both Val and Elain to continue walking, and Feyre shifted to follow. 

The acolyte, however, stepped back into their path and a surge of annoyance went through Val at the woman's persistence. 

"It would take but a minute," She tried to persuade. 

"We really don't have the ti—" Val tried to say, but it was already too late. 

Nesta straightened up, glaring down at the acolyte. She cut Val off, "Go spew your fanatic nonsense to some ninny. You'll find no converts here," She snapped, making the woman shrink back. 

Yet, Nesta wasn't done as she pushed down the sleeve of her coat to reveal the iron bracelet she wore. The acolyte gasped in horror. 

Val glanced up to the dreary sky as if somehow she would find help among the grey clouds. All she wanted was a quick trip, in and out of the market, but it seemed even that was too much to ask for. 

"You see this?" Nesta hissed, taking a step forward, to which the woman matched by taking one back, "This is what you should be wearing. Not some silver bells to attract those faerie monsters."

"How dare you wear that vile affront to our immortal friends—" The acolyte started, but Nesta cut her off. 

"Go preach in another town," She spat. Val gently tugged Nesta slightly back, so she wasn't right in the poor woman's face.

"I suggest you find someone else because clearly, we are not interested," Val's tone was soft yet firm.

Just then, two women walked by, on the wealthier class by the looks of it, both shooting the group of acolytes a disgusted glance.

"Faerie-loving whore," One of them spat at the silent young woman.

The other, who looked even wealthier judging from the braided iron necklace she wore, curled her lip in disgust, "Don't you idiots understand what those monsters did to us for all those centuries? What they still do for sport when they can get away with it? You deserve the end you'll meet at faerie hands. Fools and whores, all of you." 

Val just sighed. Like her opinion about the children of the blessed, she remained indifferent about her thoughts of the Fae folk. She'd never met them, nor did she want to. However, if she did, she'd assume they were quite similar to humans. Some would be good, and some would be bad. After all, there had been some who had fought for the humans when the time came.

The young woman just took a breath, her face smoothening back out into a serene expression, "I lived in such ignorance, too, until I heard the Word of the Blessed. I grew up in a village so similar to this—so bleak and grim. But not one month ago, a friend of my cousin went to the border as our offering to Prythian—and she has not been sent back. Now she dwells in riches and comfort as a High Fae's bride, and so might you if you were to take a moment to—"

"She was likely eaten," Nesta, once again, cut off bluntly. 

Val found herself refraining from pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation—yet there was a small part of her that wanted to snort in amusement, but she buried that part of herself deep down. She just wanted to get the pelt to the marketplace and leave. 

Her sister added, "That's why she hasn't returned."

Val watched as the acolyte's face tightened. "Our benevolent masters would never harm us. Prythian is a land of peace and plenty. Should they bless you with their attention, you would be glad to live amongst them." 

Her eyes shifted around them to see that they were garnering a crowd. It seemed that she and Feyre had the same idea as Val looped her arm with Nesta's—ready to forcefully drag her off if needed—while Feyre stepped between them and the woman. 

"You're fighting an uphill battle," Feyre said. 

"A worthy cause." The girl beamed with conviction.

Val sighed, her words grim and tired as she replied, "No, it's not." With that, she gently tugged Nesta along, Feyre and Elain following with their own sighs of relief. 

Val could feel the acolytes' gaze burn into her back, but she refused to turn back. Nesta walked stiffly beside her, her arm still looped with Val's. Val gave Nesta's arm a subtle squeeze in comfort, and her twin glanced over at the gesture, but Val kept her eyes firmly ahead of her. Slowly Nesta relaxed, accepting her sister's comforting touch. 

Once at the square, Val removed her arm from Nesta's, and Feyre once again moved to Val's side. 

"We'll meet you here in an hour," Feyre said to the other two, and before they could say anything, she and Val slipped into the crowd. 

It took ten minutes for Val and Feyre to decide who they should approach. Their eyes scanned the different people that milled around until a large mountainous woman caught Val's eye. She sat on the ledge of the fountain, keeping to herself. It wasn't her size that attracted Val's attention but the numerous scars and weapons that littered her body. 

Feyre's eyes followed Val's gaze, and she slightly nodded in agreement. As the two of them approached, the woman's eyes narrowed slightly as she realized they were walking towards her wickedly sharp knife with appreciation before meeting the woman's dark eyes fearlessly. 

"I don't barter goods for my services," She said in a rough tone. A foreign accent coated her words, making her words sound even gruffer, "I only accept coin."

 "Then you'll be out of luck in this sort of place," Val responded cooly, her head tilting slightly as she continued her appraisal of the woman in front of her. 

The woman slightly straightened up, her eyes narrowing even further at Val. Like recognized like, and the mercenary had been around long enough to spot a predator, and despite Val's malnourished frame, the woman recognized Val for what she could be. "What is your business with me, girl?"

This time it was Feyre who spoke, "We have a wolf pelt, and a doe hide for sale. We thought you might be interested in purchasing them."

"You two steal them?"

"No." Feyre denied, her voice going hard at the question, "I hunted them myself. I swear it."

The mercenary's gaze shifted over to Feyre. "How." It wasn't a question but a demand. Val felt herself slightly bristle at the woman's tone, but she remained silent. 

Despite Feyre having just hunted, Val was itching for her own hunt. Unlike Feyre, who did it out of necessity, Val found it oddly calming. Val hated taking an innocent animal's life, and she found no joy in that part. What she liked was the freedom in the woods as she tracked her prey. Those few seconds of predatory focus as she drew her bow back, she loved it. It was freeing. 

It helped quiet the years of anger and pain that festered in her heart. The same anger she suppressed for the sake of her sisters because if she let it all go, she had no idea of the destruction she could cause.

Val continued her silence, letting Feyre tell the story of how she acquired the pelts. Val grew tense as she heard Feyre's suspicions of the wolf being a Fae, but she just clenched her jaw, making a note to talk to her sister about it later. 

The mercenary gestured towards the satchel, "Let me see," She ordered. Feyre pulled out the hides. "You weren't lying about the wolf's size," The mercenary murmured, running her hands over it as she studied it with a keen expert eye. "Doesn't seem like a faerie, though."

The mercenary looked back up, her eyes glancing between Feyre and Val, and for a brief second, they flicked to look at something over their shoulders before focusing back on Feyre. She named her price. 

Both Feyre and Val froze in shock. They hadn't expected that. The woman was overpaying by a lot. 

"Why?" Val questioned suspiciously. 

For a brief second, the mercenary's lips twitched at Val's brazenness before once again looking past them, "I'm assuming those two girls watching from across the square are your sisters," She said, "You all have that brassy hair—and that hungry look about you." 

Val knew she didn't share her sister's golden brown hair, but it didn't take a genius to see the resemblance she had with them.  

"We don't need your pity," Feyre glared. 

No, but we could use the money, Val thought, and the mercenary echoed her thoughts.

"No, but you need my money," She said, "and the other traders have been cheap all morning. Everyone's too distracted by those calf-eyed zealots bleating across the square." She jerked her chin towards the square, where the Children of the Blessed were still trying to recruit people to their cause in vain. This time the mercenary didn't bother hiding the small smile, "Up to you, girl."

Val was about to agree, but Feyre spoke first, "Why?" It wasn't laced with suspicion like when Val asked, just curiosity. 

She shrugged. "Someone once did the same for me and mine, at a time when we needed it most. Figure it's time to repay what's due."

Of course, Feyre, her darling sister who could be too kind and proud for her own good—despite what she might say—offered the mercenary some of their father's carvings in a way to make the payment fairer. 

However, the mercenary waved off the offer. "I travel light and have no need for them. These, however—" She patted the pelts in her hands, "—save me the trouble of killing them myself."

Val nodded, and Feyre copied her actions. The mercenary reached for the coin purse inside her heavy coat. Val didn't need to look inside to see that it was full of silver and even gold. 

It was a known fact that mercenaries were generally well-paid, and Val had thought about becoming one of them as the days grew harder on her family. It was better than some of the things she'd done to bring coin to the table, and she found the thought of becoming a mercenary frequented her brain more often as the years grew worse. 

The only thing that stopped her, however, was her sisters. She didn't think she could leave them for months at a time. The pain she'd find a way to push through, but the thought of leaving her sisters was a different kind of pain. Val needed them. They were all she had, and the thought of being alone...a hollow pit formed in her stomach, and she pushed the thought away before she could dwell on it. 

The mercenary handed Val the coins, who tucked them into her pocket. Val knew Elain and Nesta saw the transaction, but they wouldn't pester her as they would with Feyre, hence why she had taken the coins. 

"Thank you," Feyre said stiffly, while Val just nodded. 

The mercenary stroked the wolf pelt. "A word of advice, from one hunter to another."

Both Val and Feyre looked at her, raising an eyebrow. 

"Don't go far into the woods. I wouldn't even get close to where you were yesterday. A wolf this size would be the least of your problems. More and more, I've been hearing stories about those things slipping through the wall."

Feyre lightly shuddered, "Are they—are they going to attack?"

Plans were already forming in Val's mind if that were the case. She may not outright hate the fae, but she wasn't stupid. She knew the stories of the High Lords who had taken humans as slaves. Killed and tortured her kind as sport. It may have been centuries ago, but Val wouldn't risk the chance of that happening to her family if the fae ever decided to go back on the treaty.

The mercenary's face gave nothing away, "No one knows what the fae are planning. We don't know if the High Lords' leash on their beasts is slipping or if these are targeted attacks. I guarded for an old nobleman who claimed it had been getting worse these past fifty years. He got on a boat south two weeks ago and told me I should leave if I was smart. Before he sailed off, he admitted that he'd had word from one of his friends that in the dead of night, a pack of martax crossed the wall and tore half his village apart."

Fear filled Val, not for herself but for her sisters. Her instincts screamed at her to take them as far south as possible if that were the case. 

"Martax?" Feyre breathed, voice laced with the same fear rushing through Val's veins.

The mercenary's night-dark eyes flickered. "Body big as a bear's, head something like a lion's—and three rows of teeth sharper than a shark's. And mean—meaner than all three put together. They left the villagers in literal ribbons, the nobleman said." 

She continued, "So we don't know what all these attacks mean, other than more hires for me, and you keeping well away from the wall. Especially if the High Fae start turning up—or worse, one of the High Lords. They would make the martax seem like dogs."

Val's eyes drifted to the woman's scarred hands. "Have you ever faced another type of faerie?" She couldn't help but ask. 

Her eyes shuttered. "You don't want to know, girl—not unless you want to be hurling up your breakfast."

"Tell me," Val demanded, her voice hard. 

The woman studied Val for a second before pulling back the sleeve of her heavy jacket to reveal her tanned, muscled forearm marred with gruesome, twisted scars. Val swallowed harshly but felt no disgust. Scars told stories, the stories of survivors. Anyone who survived had scars. Even Val had scars. She believed they were something to be proud of, no matter how horrible the story that came with it was because, at the end of it, they could say they survived.

"Didn't have the brute force or size of a martax," The mercenary said, "but its bite was full of poison. Two months—that's how long I was down; four months until I had the strength to walk again." She then pulled up the leg of her trousers. Black spidery veins contrasted against the tanned skin. It was almost mesmerizingly horrific to see. "Healer said there was nothing to be done for it—that I'm lucky to be walking with the poison still in my legs. Maybe it'll kill me one day. Maybe it'll cripple me. But at least I'll go knowing I killed it first."

Feyre placed a hand on Val's shoulder, her face unnaturally pale, "Thanks for the warnings," She said tightly.

The mercenary's attention flicked to something behind them, and a faint smile of amusement curled at her lips. "Good luck."

A second later, a slender hand clamped onto Val's forearm, pulling her and Feyre away. Neither of them had to look to know it was Nesta, no villager would dare touch them, especially with Val around, and Elain was too gentle and timid to even approach them while they were with that mountain of a woman. 

"They're dangerous," Nesta hissed, her fingers dug into Val's arms as she continued to pull tug her and Feyre from the mercenary. "Don't go near them again."

"Let me go," Val quietly demanded, not appreciating being manhandled. In an instant, Nesta let go. Val's eyes narrowed as she studied her twin and Elain's pale face, "Is there something I should know?"

"They're brutes and will take any copper they can get, even if it's by force," Nesta said, trying to wave it off. 

Val glanced back at the mercenary studying her new pelts, "She robbed you?" Val questioned, her voice dangerously quiet. 

"Not her," Elain murmured. "Some other one who passed through. We had only a few coins, and he got mad, but—"

"Why didn't you report him—or tell us?" Feyre questioned. 

"What could you have done?" Nesta sneered. "Challenged him to a fight with your bow and arrows? And who in this sewer of a town would even care if we reported anything?"

"What about your Tomas Mandray?" Feyre challenged coolly. 

Nesta's eyes flashed, but a glance over Feyre's shoulder had her attitude taking a complete turn as her glare melted into a sickly sweet smile. "Your friend is waiting for you."

Val turned just in time to see Isaac tilting his head at Feyre. Val's jaw clenched. It wasn't that she didn't like Isaac, but Feyre deserved more than a quick rut in a barn. Feyre, out of all of them, deserved more and Val wished that one day her sister would experience love to its truest extent, but for now, if Isaac eased the loneliness Feyre felt, then Val wouldn't say a word. 

Sometimes, Val wished she could do the same thing. It wasn't that she had a shortage of admirers. She was quite aware of the beauty she and her sisters possessed, especially Elain—perhaps that was why Nesta was so protective over their younger sister. Yet, anytime the thought would come, the ring around her neck felt heavier and changed her mind. She wasn't ready. She didn't think she'd ever be ready. 

Nesta clicked her tongue, crossing her arms. "I do hope you two are taking precautions."

"It's a bit late to pretend to care," Feyre snapped back. 

Val placed a calming hand on Feyre's arm, drawing her youngest sister's attention towards her. "Go," Val said gently, nodding to where Isaac had disappeared. She couldn't help the slight, sly smirk that crawled onto her lips. She may not approve of the boy, but she remembered what it was like to be young. "Have some fun."

A slight blush dusted Feyre's cheeks, but the younger girl gave Val a grateful look before walking off. Val then turned towards her remaining sisters. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty-mark copper. Ignoring Elain's sharp inhale, she handed it over. 

"I'll meet you guys back at home," Val said, and without waiting for a response, she walked away. 

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[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

Every Single (Hermitcraft/etc.) AU Idea I Have Ever Had

This is... what it says on the tin. It is a long post. I do not expect it to get any traction. I am doing this for autism reasons. Some ideas are actually excluded because there is zero substance to them. Sorry I don't think anyone wants to hear my 1000 'what if Grian... was sad' ideas.

Many of these (most of them) were made in collaboration with @angeart which explains why they are so sad and also Mostly Scarian. It doesn't always say it's shipping but it usually is. We are Grian Girlies. Sorry.

If you want to hear more about ANY of the ideas listed here, feel free to shoot me an ask :) I LOVE RANTING ABOUT THESE IDEAS. There are even links to fics where they exist.

Each idea needs different warnings so any major CWs will be listed at the start of each summary so you can skip any one you want.

It begins... below the cut

COMMS AU

READ THE FIC HERE

WHAT THE HELL IS COMMS AU?

My main multichapter fic, ongoing and insane

A multiverse nonsense trip wrapped in an audio transcript format

Grumbo Apocalypse Monster AU

CW: minor character death, existential dread, gross / graphic imagery

Grian is a shapeshifting monster drawn into human life by the apocalypse, and Mumbo is a human who attempts to survive the horrors

Main characters: Grian & Mumbo (duh!)

Side characters: Pearl, Scar, Cub, Joe, Cleo, Xisuma, “Evil Xisuma”, Martyn

Tumblr Masterpost

READ THE FIC HERE

Vex Hunger Kidnapping Griangst AU

CW: discrimination, starvation, cannibalism (non-consensual), gore

Grian (avian) and Cub (vex) are kidnapped by scientists on their way back from MCC. They are kept in a cell where Cub is starved until he goes feral and starts attacking Grian out of Vex instincts.

Also eats Grian a lot. Don't worry, Grian can respawn, but he respawns back in the cell in a puddle of his own blood, only to be torn to pieces again.

They are rescued by the hermits. Now traumatised! Yippee!

Things get worse before they get better

Basically, Grian’s self-destructive trauma urges: the movie

Main characters: Grian, Cub, Scar, Mumbo

Side characters: Hermit ensemble

Evil Scar Corruption AU

CW: mind control, kidnapping, torture, amputation, manipulation / mindbreak

Scar gets corrupted by the Vex which take over his mind. His love for Grian is mutated into selfish obsession, and eventually he kidnaps and tortures him in an attempt to make him stay forever.

Cuts off his wings and everything. (they grow back)

Eventually the hermits find out and lock Scar up while trying to heal Grian - but Grian broke somewhere along the way and now thinks what Scar was doing was true love.

Scar comes back to his senses and the guilt hits him like a truck. Eventually he leaves the server and runs into his own Bad Relationship but don't worry about this.

Grian’s self-destructive urges: the sequel

Main characters: Scar, Grian

Side characters: Xisuma, Cub, Pearl, Mumbo, hermit ensemble

The Facility AU

CW: near-death experience

Xisuma runs a top secret facility dedicated to the safety and containment of supernatural/otherworldly beings and entities.

Kind of like SCP but nicer.

Field workers Scar, Grian, and Cub are continuously put through the wash while other facility employees (namely Etho and Bdubs) have quirky little romance arcs. 

Grian nearly dies because of a swimming pool btw. There is so much to this fic I cannot possibly explain here.

Main characters Arc 1: Scar, Grian, Cub, Mumbo

Main characters Arc 2: Scar, Grian, BigB, Cub, Mumbo

Side characters Arc 1: Xisuma, Keralis, Zedaph, Joe, Cleo, Bdubs, Etho

Side characters Arc 2: Martyn, Scott, Ren, Tango, Impulse, Gem, Skizz, False

Superheroes and Villains AU

CW: not mentioned here but there is gore / surgery and alien mushrooms that kill people

In the city of Blackstone, vigilante HotGuy works alongside the Hero Bureau to catch villains and keep the city safe.

Between trying to save the person behind Mother Spore, and rebuilding his old friendship with Cub - now turned villain - HotGuy must look through the gaps of the Hero Bureau to see the corruption lurking within.

Main characters: Scar, Grian, Cub, Pearl, The Watchers

Side characters: Mumbo, Joe, Cleo, Gem, Ren, Doc, Keralis, Beef, Tango, various hermits

Read the summary here

Hero AU 2

CW: discrimination

Grian and Scar live in a city where hybrids are second-class citizens

Grian is an activist who gets beaten up and arrested a lot

Scar is secretly the superhero HotGuy, who is controlled by the city's government - as HotGuy, he pretends to be human

Grian thinks HotGuy should use his power for good, and dislikes HotGuy because he upholds the human power structure - he does not know Scar is HotGuy

Main Characters: Scar, Grian

Side Characters: ?

Respawn Enabled Hybrid Farms AU

CW: extreme dehumanisation, cannibalism, abuse of power

Global Moderators have passed cross-server laws denying the rights of hybrid players and placing most hybrids in farms to be butchered like cattle for food and resources.

Grian, born and raised on one of these farms, escapes to Hermitcraft where he learns how to be a person with agency and freedom (ahem. only to have it taken away again. and again...).

Main characters Arc 1: Grian, Mumbo, Ren, Scar

Main characters Arc 2: Grian, Pearl, Mumbo, Scar, Ren, Xisuma, Evil X, Keralis

Main characters Arc 3: Grian, Mumbo, Scar, Pearl, Gem, Ren, Impulse, Doc, Cub, Xisuma

Side Characters: hermit ensemble

Hybrid Farms (Worse Version)

CW: mentioned death, extreme discrimination, cannibalism

Hybrids are farmed as food but this time there is no respawn

More of a modern AU

READ IT HERE

Main characters: Mumbo & Grian

Side characters: Life series ensemble

'Introduction to Being a Person'

CW: human experimentation

In a desperate attempt to subdue the rebelling masses, a corrupt government begins experimenting on people to create war machines. In the dystopian wastes of civilization, escaped experiment Tango must grapple with his identity and newfound freedom, while turf wars and deception lie around every corner.

Main characters: Tango, Grian, Ren

Side characters: Experiment Army: Scar, Cub, Cleo, Joe, Gem, Pearl; Steel Wheels: False, Etho, Keralis; Helping Hands: Iskall, Stress, Xisuma; Connected Mankind: Mumbo; Last Stand: Doc, Bdubs; Unaffiliated: Impulse, Zedaph

Tomorrow AU

CW: death / existential themes, human experimentation / dehumanisation, torture

Based very loosely on World Of Tomorrow by Don Hertzfeldt

Scar, co-CEO of ConCorp, buys a body that was grown in a lab with the intention of dissecting it

Despite the body being suspended in fluid all its life, it wakes up before Scar can do anything - it's alive, but doesn't know how to speak or move

Later, this lab-grown creature becomes Grian, learns how to speak and walk, and finds out about the impending heat death of the planet

Meanwhile, we have unethical treatment of prisoners, moon science, dogman and the existential existence of clones

Main characters: Scar, Grian, Bdubs, Doc, Ren, Pearl

Side characters: [The Prison Cube], Mumbo, Xisuma, Cleo, Etho, Cub

Secret Life Watcher AU

CW: none?

All the life series players find out Grian is a Watcher at the start of Secret Life and then they are mean to him. 

Also Grian may become evil at some point. But he deserves to have a villain arc.

Main characters: guess

Elliot Smith AU

CW: major character death, self loathing, existential themes

Based on my Watcher Lore

READ THE FIC HERE

In which Grian is killed at the end of Evo and his code and memories are placed into a Watcher version of him, creating a Watcher-Vessel in a process called ‘Transfer’

Mostly about both the grief of Grian’s old friends as they discover what happened to him, and the ethical / philosophical debate Grian has with himself about who he is and why people are upset about it - he's the ship of theseus kind of

Called ‘Elliott Smith AU’ because each installment in the series has a different Elliott Smith song title as a title

Main characters: Grian(?), Pearl, Jimmy, Scar, Xisuma, Martyn

Side characters: Watchers, Listeners, BigB, Scott

Elliot Smith AU AU - a different timeline

CW: major character death, existential themes

Grian gets taken by the Watchers after Limited Life and they kill him & replace him with a perfect copy of himself. Moral, ethical, and emotional dilemmas unfurl. Offshoot from my main Watcher-Grian fic (Elliott Smith AU) of the same concept just with a different timeline as to make it way more evil.

Main characters: Grian(?), Scar, Mumbo, Pearl

Side characters: hermit ensemble

Elliot Smith AU AU - a worse outcome

CW: major character death, existential themes

An offshoot of the Elliott Smith AU where the hermits (or some of them) are much more aware of what a Watcher is and are much more afraid when Grian is found out

Grian is put in a code prison while the hermits figure out what to do with him (delete his code entirely, ban him, let him stay)

Many conflicting opinions. Many horrible things said and done

Main characters: Grian, Xisuma, Pearl, Scar, Mumbo, Joe Hills somehow

Side characters: Hermit ensemble

Elliott Smith AU: Continuation 1 - BigB

CW: major character death, existential themes

BigB is a Listener - he went through a process called 'Hollowing' which is similar to Grian’s ‘Transfer’ (death and copying) except (as far as BigB is aware) it did not kill him, simply re-made him

Grian doesn’t agree that BigB didn’t die

A lot of philosophical debates here

Main characters: BigB, Grian

Side characters: Martyn, Pearl, Joel, Jimmy, Listeners, Scar

Elliott Smith AU: Continuation 2 - Scar

CW: discussions of major character death, existential themes, betrayal

After winning Secret Life, Scar is taken by the Watchers and nearly turned into one before Grian, Martyn, BigB and the Listeners intervene 

However Scar’s code is damaged and decaying, and Grian needs answers to fix it before Scar is lost forever

He seeks out the Watchers and is told to bring Martyn to them in exchange for Scar’s life being saved

Grian does this, like the sad little bastard he is

Queue Martyn escaping the Watchers anyway and now everything is awful and no one likes anything that has happened

Main characters: Scar, Grian, Martyn

Side characters: BigB, Pearl, Xisuma

Zombie Apoc AU

CW: death, zombies, I think you get the idea

Zombie apocalypse but Grian and Scar just moved in together (gay intent).

Scar gets turned, Grian keeps him in the basement and lures survivors in to keep Scar fed, despite Scar asking Grian to kill him before he turned.

Mumbo shows up and everything goes wrong. And maybe some things go right.

Main characters: Grian, Scar, Mumbo (are you tired of seeing their names yet?)

Side characters: Cleo, Etho, Bdubs; Zedaph, Cub

Zombie Apoc AU 2: this time it's sadder

CW: zombies, death, suicidal thoughts

Long story short is that Grian gets bitten

Scar and Grian live in an abandoned apartment block called ‘Desert View Apartments’ (though they move to Jimmy's farm before Grian gets bit)

Ren, Martyn, Impulse and Skizz hunkered down in the ‘King’s Court Shopping Centre’

Cleo, Bdubs, and Etho are taking refuge in an old castle-turned-museum 

Jimmy, Scott, and Tango live on a farm together

Joel, Lizzie and BigB live in the woods and use plants to stave off the disease

Gem is a travelling mercenary with a pet reindeer who believes the only way to save society is to eradicate all zombies and infected people

Pearl is a nomad with a pack of stray dogs

Mumbo is some guy I'm sure he has a role somewhere

Main characters: Scar and Grian

Side characters: the rest of these idiots

Space Age AU

CW: space colonisation, slavery, death, military stuff

Humans have colonised a large chunk of the galaxy

Grian comes from a group of humans who were against the human empire - said group was attacked, slaughtered, and disbanded

Scar used to be a part of the empire’s militia (though he is an alien, not human) but is no longer part of it

Mumbo does not know whether he is an android or not - androids are a slave class / killed on sight since their war with humans, and humans need to carry ID to prove they are human. Mumbo has an ID, but the tests for humans vs. androids are basically meaningless and inaccurate

Pearl was part of the same group as Grian, was captured and sold into servitude

Scar stows away on Grian’s spaceship (stolen) - Grian freaks out but they become somewhat friends

Scar and Grian go to a planet notorious for hating humans, because Scar wants a job there and Grian wants to get rid of him - Grian gets caught and thrown in prison 

Scar meets Mumbo, a member of the planet’s court, and they work together to break Grian out and the three of them escape 

They journey through space, meeting up with folks like Tango - eventually the gang find a ship run by Watchers (a powerful alien race) and they discover Pearl on board

Main Characters: Grian, Scar, Mumbo, Pearl

Side Characters: Tango, Ren, Jimmy, Scott, Martyn, Gem

Hunger Games AU (Based on Floor 6, a now-deleted Lunch Club AU)

CW: hunger games, unnamed character death, cannibalism, trauma x 10000

Hunger Games universe but the winners all live in a big tower apartment complex with each floor being a new decade of winners

Grian is the most recent winner!

Yes I put him in district 9 for a bread joke.

Scar is my favourite victor because he ate people.

Main characters: Tango (70; 3 - electronics), Ren (71; 2 - weapons), Pearl (72; 10 - animal farming), Scott (73; 4 - fishing), Martyn (74; 4 - fishing), Scar (75; 10 - animal farming), Gem (76; 7 - lumber), Grian (77; 9 - grain), Joel (78; 2 - weapons); BigB (79; 9 - grain), Mumbo (avox, 9 - grain)

Grian Chrysalis AU

CW: insect stuff, body horror

Note I am autistic about this one.

Grian is a weird little guy who has to form a chrysalis and turn into goo before reforming

He needs to do this every few years to keep himself alive, as he is a unique cross between Watcher and player - except no one on Hermitcraft knows this about him, and Grian may have gotten distracted building for so long he forgot to take a vacation away from the server in time to go Bug Mode

So all they know is Grian is missing, and Xisuma is getting corrupted life signals from inside a mysterious chrysalis that has appeared - so they cut open the chrysalis while Grian is still reforming in there

He's goopy (body horror intent)

Main characters: Grian, Scar, Mumbo, Xisuma

Side characters: Hermit ensemble

The Crafting Dead (vine boom sound)

CW: medical torture, zombie apocalypse, captivity

Hermitcraft gets attacked (Watchers?) and lots of hermits are sent off to their own personal hells, with no memories of Hermitcraft

Xisuma has to go find them and bring them home and help them heal and re-introduce them to Hermitcraft and hopefully get their memories back

Scar is our main focus here - he’s stuck in the zombie apocalypse world of The Crafting Dead, where he spent his childhood and teen years before being rescued by Xisuma - now in his 30s, he thinks he’s been stuck there his whole life 

Grian is having a bad time being fledged into a proper Watcher, forced to Watch, since he never escaped

Mumbo's in a cult and might be evil (it's fine. He's fine.) (Lie)

Pearl is roaming the forests with a ghostly wolf, her enemies blood long gone but still fresh on her hands as resources dwindle in a tiny world (Double Life)

Tango is chained like a beast in an underground fighting ring, labelled with a nickname that isn't his and placed in a betting pool with odds stacked highly in his favour (he always wins) (he has to win) (there is no respawn here)

Impulse has been freshly captured and put in the same lineup, odds stacked quite tremendously against him (they don't know what he is) (he could end them all with a snap of his fingers) (don't corner a demon)

Doc is huddled in the corner of a lab he never left, scientist-turned-experiment, taken apart and put back together again different, wrong, as more additions pile onto his growing list of hybridities (they've given him wings, and taken his eye)

Main characters: Scar, Xisuma, Grian, Pearl, Mumbo, Tango, Impulse, Doc

Side characters: Hermit ensemble

Pirate Boatem But Evil And Mean

CW: major character death, cannibalism, ghost stuff

READ THE FIC HERE

Pirate crew Boatem get kicked off their ship and put on a desert island by Captain Scar

Survival cannibalism

Magic / curse ending

Ghost Grian

They go hunt down Scar at the end 

Main characters: Impulse, Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, Scar

Side characters: SKIZZ !!!!

I can be your angel….. Or yuor devil….

CW: religious implications?, also death mentions, body horror

Scar is some guy obsessed with the occult who is part of a ghost hunting team with Impulse Gem and Skizz

He finds Grian, a “fallen angel” and decides to take care of him

Grian is actually a demon sent from the void to find a human and bring it to his masters (the Watchers) for harvesting 

Grian used to be human maybe 

Grian is blindfolded - he claims it is so he doesn't taint his purity with the image of the imperfect world but it is really there because his masters don't want him to see the world and fall in love with it. The void is all he knows

Scar teaches Grian self-worth while Grian slowly turns into an eldritch horror beyond comprehension

Main characters: Grian & Scar

Side characters: Impulse, Skizz, Gem, the Watchers

Monster-Pet AU

CW: dehumanisation, discrimination, medical abuse

Hybrids seen as either free labourers or pets depending on how rare they are

Grian is a Watcher, a very rare type of wild hybrid

He’s been a pet for a long time - taken from his flock and completely changed mentally

They de-clawed my boy, they took his sharp teeth away

One day he wanders away from his owners house by accident and stumbles into Hermitcraft (a free, hybrid-run town)

Healing arc but he struggles very hard to understand he isn't a pet

Pearl, former flockmate-turned-feral Watcher, attacks him when she finds him, reduced to believing any weak flockmate will lead to them being captured again

Main characters: Grian, Scar, Pearl

Side characters: hermit ensemble

Solaris AU

CW: major character death, existential themes, spoilers for Solaris (1972)

Solaris (1972) AU

But with my own added flavour and twists

Scar is Kris Kelvin, Cub and Mumbo are the other two scientists, Grian is the dead wife

Philosophical.

Main characters: Scar, Grian, Mumbo, Cub

Fantasy AU (Kingdoms AU)

MASTERPOST

READ THE FIC HERE

Monster Hunter AU

CW: vampires & blood drinking, unnamed character deaths (many), discrimination

Grian and Mumbo are vampire hunters, part of the Hunter's Guild, dedicated to killing monsters

Dramatic backstory time: Grian's home village was slaughtered by vampires, leaving only orphaned children behind - he has a lot of vampire related trauma and has channeled that into becoming one of the best hunters around

Problem: Mumbo is secretly a vampire

Problem 2: Grian is about to find out

Angst 🙂 lots of it

There are humans, vampires, were(wolves, etc), fair-folk, demons/gorgons/devils, and potionmakers

Main characters: Grian, Mumbo

Side characters: Scar, Cub, Etho, Cleo, Bdubs

Popstar Grian / Ari AU

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Disaster Rescue Team AU

CW: survival cannibalism, systemic discrimination, torture, medical abuse

Scar, Pearl, Skizz, Impulse, Bdubs, Tango, Etho, Cub, and Mumbo are a disaster rescue team who specialise in helping hybrids

Grian is an avian living on a remote island that is destroyed by a storm, and he is trapped there for years until he's the only survivor left, the mainland government ignoring the situation

He's forced to resort to cannibalism to survive, then he's rescued

Scar is the therapist of the group who spends time working with Grian to rehabilitate him

Sadly most of his clients end up in bad situations, going missing, or in prison because the mainland is incredibly discriminatory

There is a government conspiracy happening where hybrids are being taken away after leaving the rescue facility and used for medical or scientific experimentation

Bad things happen to the gang.

Main characters: Scar, Pearl, Skizz, Impulse, Bdubs, Tango, Etho, Mumbo, Cub, Grian

Side characters: Ren :)

The ones who walk away from Omelas AU

CW: torture and abuse, like, a lot of it

Based on the story 'The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas' but with my own changes, for fun. This is actually one of my faves.

In the city of Omelas, life is perfect - there is no crime, no homelessness, no suffering. It is a Utopia

This Utopia comes at a cost, a single citizen, chosen randomly, must bear the suffering of all others, kept alone, starved and entirely isolated, underground, their whole life

The children of Omelas are shown this suffering early, to get them used to the idea. When they are horrified, they are told about the greater good of this sacrifice.

When Scar is a child, he sees the suffering scapegoat, at the time around his own age, and vows to rescue him one day

Twenty years later, he makes good on that promise

Main characters: Scar, Grian

Side characters: Joel, Impulse, Skizz

City Blues AU

CW: organ harvesting, gang violence, references to drugs

Architect Grian gets fired from his job, and has to move to the bad part of the city for the first time ever. There he is very quickly noted and attacked, but a cunning drug dealer saves him.

He's given a place to stay by the salesman, Scar, but he owes the man. He has to work as an errand boy for a while to earn his freedom.

I mean, how hard could it be?

(it's considerably more difficult when he develops a crush)

(and because everyone in this place wants to get their hands on his kidneys)

Main characters: Scar, Grian

Side characters: Mumbo, Cub, Stress, Iskall, Cleo

Convexian Serial Killers AU

CW: murder, no seriously our protagonists are killers and they get away with it, no moralising here they are just evil little freaks for fun, also cannibalism

Scar and Cub are serial killers who kill while their housemate, Grian, is out working for days on end

Grian happens to come home early one time and finds them mid-kill

After a series of breakdowns and a lot of throwing up, Grian gets kind of into it tbh

He watches the kills (and enjoys taunting the victims) and acts as friendly, harmless bait for other victims

Scar and Cub also introduce him to cannibalism, and he gets a little bit obsessed with trying to hunt down other avians to kill

Scar and Cub are human, while Grian is an avian, and though Scar expresses his love with violent fantasies, they would never hurt Grian

Grian's friends: Mumbo, Jimmy and Pearl, may have a little to say about this when they find out ^-^

Main characters: I just listed them

Side characters: Gem yayyyyy

AAAND THATS IT. I missed quite a few shorter / less dense AU ideas and possibly some bigger ones I have forgotten. Oops if so.

Remember, if you wanna know more about any of these, please send an ask, and specify which AU youre asking about obviously! If you read this far I am honestly shocked at your ability to put up with That Many scarian ideas.

Also feel free to riff on any of these if one stands out to you as interesting. I love hearing / seeing other people's interpretations of my stuff :D

[thefandomenchantress]

A new Disventure Camp episode came out today!! I figured now would be a good time to list some of my thoughts. Not only on this episode in particular, but also on Hunter's whole situation.

I mostly liked Ashley this episode, which is good since it was her last, but there's this one point in the episode that bothered me a lot, that being how she blows up at Jake and Ally for not getting along...And then just immediately forgives Jake the next scene when he gets sad?

I don't care if they make up, that's not what I'm getting at, but I really wish Jake would've apologized and said something like: "I'm sorry, Ashley, you're always so supportive and I just keep messing things up. I--I should've blown up at Ally like that-" and then have Ashley forgive him. As it is, I got some severe whiplash by how it seemed like Ashley was having a falling out with Jake and Ally, genuinely being mad at them, only for that to just be forgotten a few minutes later. I understand that Ashley is a forgiving person, but it seems too extreme even for her to just forgive him without him doing anything but complain about Tom being close. That's just what I think, though.

I really liked the rest of the episode, besides that small nitpick. I was worried I wouldn't like Gabby as much if she became evil and a legitimate threat, since I liked her more cartoony demeanor. Luckily, my worry was misplaced, because Gabby is just as silly as ever, even if she is trying to be evil. She literally said she was going to make a costume with a cape and mask to be evil in like she's a Scooby-doo villain or something, I love her so much. Then again, Yul did say she was a "Tumblr girl" so maybe it makes sense that I like her haha. While Gabby is a threat now, the writers don't try to make you take her super seriously, which I appreciated. Non-serious villains are always my favorites.

Sadly, I got Ashley's elimination partially spoiled for me (someone replied to a comment I made on the YouTube trailer for the episode, saying something along the lines of, 'yeah she goes home :)' to someone else in the replies who speculated she would. The downside of your comment becoming popular I guess). But I still liked it and genuinely considered that the person might've been lying when the elimination ceremony started. That was a pretty good subversion of expectations, I really thought Aiden was a goner.

I've never been a big fan of Jake, and while I'm not desperate for him to go home...I'm kind of over him, if I'm being honest. I know he's supposed to be flawed and partially unlikeable, but personally I just can't deal with all his bullshit, it stresses me out. I've never been too invested in TomJake, so all that nonsense this season hasn't been too fun for me, I'll be honest. I understand why people like it, but it's just not for me, I suppose. At this point I'm thankful James got out early, so that at least there's no drama between him and Aiden (yet). Most of the relationships this season are going downhill, haha. Except for Ally and Tess (please bring the polycule back I miss it it's one of the only polycule representations I've ever seen in media PLEASE--).

(Now starting the Hunter section. if you don't want to hear my insane ramblings about him, turn back.)

...I don't know when I'm going to make another post about Disventure Camp so I'm gonna vent about Hunter here, too. He was technically mentioned this episode, so it's totally relevant that I talk about him, right? Right.

Hunter was my favorite in season 2. I honestly don't know why, since he's pretty bland all things considered. Usually, I like the zany characters. I think it was him repeatedly failing to befriend Tess that pulled me in, since I can never resist a...Boyfailure? I think that's the internet term for it.

But this season I was just...NOT into his characterization. And as far as I've seen, I'm in the minority with that opinion, since I've seen a lot of people say they like him more now. The main line of reasoning I've seen is, "He was boring in season 2, and I liked him better in All-Stars because they gave him flaws."

And...I don't agree. I'm fine with them 3-dimentionaliszing his character, I agree that he was pretty flat before in terms of characterization. Actually, I'd love if they gave him some flaws! What if they highlight how bad he is at making connections/alliances with anyone other than Ally and Tess? They kind of do this by making Fiore be on his team and showing how his strategy of "win challenges to stay in the game" completely falls apart when he can't win challenges. And I thought that was all fine and good.

The thing I don't like is how they decided one of his main flaws should be being a not-good boyfriend. Which just doesn't feel right to me? His whole thing in season two was offering emotional support to Ally and Tess, and now they spin it so that he isn't paying proper attention to Ally or what she says, not grabbing her Switch, not listening to her when she talks about her games, etc.. I'm fine with Ally and Hunter having relationship troubles, but...I don't know, I guess I'm just a little mad they took his compassion away. He just seems a lot angrier and more mean-spirited this go around. He's not fun to watch. I think I have a good example to prove what I mean.

In the Secret-revealing episode of season 2, one of Ally's secrets is that she yelled at a group of children until they cried because they were using cheats in a game she was playing, and her excuse for doing so is that she was stressed. The writers bashing Ally aside, Hunter says something like, "Do you always yell at children when you're stressed?" in response, showing that even though he hasn't met those children who were doing something wrong, he doesn't think lashing out at them was okay.

...Meanwhile season 3 Hunter is yelling and lashing out at Fiore, a child, the whole time he's in the game. I know it's not exactly the same, Fiore is a bit of a demon-child, and Hunter was, ironically, stressed, but still. He seems so much more competitive and not as nice as he used to be. Being chill used to be his default, but now it's a sort of aggressiveness that just doesn't mesh with the original Hunter in my mind.

...I recently read that something happened behind the scenes that helped create this change in characterization, but as someone who wasn't aware of that when the first episodes aired and became upset when he was changed, I really would've liked to at least have an in-universe explanation instead of this just happening. Because until I read that information, I thought they changed him just because they thought the audience didn't like him much in season two. In short, I thought it was a needless retcon and became upset when there was no explanation for the change. If the behind-the-scenes stuff was a big enough deal that they wanted to change him like this without in-universe explanation...I might've preferred them just not using him at all. Then again, the season's not over. So I guess it's a little unfair of me to assume anything yet.

Anyways, that's all just my opinion. Feel free to share your thoughts or tell me why you think I'm being too dramatic about Hunter, haha. I feel like I'm one of very few season-two-Hunter enjoyers, so I'm not expecting that to be a super popular take. I'm just mopey that he changed, I guess.

[writingoddess1125]

Hi, you're my favorite author of buggy fics here on Tumblr, and I want you to be the first one to read my little buggy fic draft. I'm open to criticism, btw (English isn't my first language, so my grammar may be a little off. I did listen to me and my husband on a loop while typing this).

In a way, one could also describe Buggy's love towards you as "obsession". No matter how toxic, hurtful and painful it is for you, you just can't let go.

You know you have to leave him, for the sake of your own sanity. But he always draws you back in with promises, his sweet nothings, and that little twinkle in his eyes. You just can't help but fall for it. Over and over again.

You're like an addict, chasing the next hit of that sweet, forbidden love.

Buggy snickers and rolls his eyes. as he saw me looking at him while he packs his things.

"Don't play that card now, darling. I'm out having a good time without you. As I should, seeing as you are nothing but a bother. I needed a more... fun experience."

Buggy's tone of voice is indifferent, his gaze sharp. He's not about to let you drag down his spirits with your sad little eyes.

As you talk to him. Buggy can easily hear your voice breaking, along with that fake smile plastered on your face. He gives you an annoyed glare.

"Stop it. I can tell your feeling hurt, you always try to be all sneaky about it. Yet I know you are only good at pretending..." Buggy chuckles, amused at your actions.

"It doesn't make you less pathetic, you know?"

Buggy snickers, shaking his head as he finishes packing up the rest of his belongings in one large bag.

"If I have to deal with your nonsense one more minute, I swear to whatever that is holy I would strangle the life out of you myself."

He snickers with a cruel smirk and turns to face you.

"So quit your sad little acting and go cry in the corner or something. Just be out of my sight." Buggy turns his back on you to leave.

i go off into our shared bathroom and open the faucet so my cries would be masked by the water running.

Buggy hears the sound of water running, knowing the reason why quite well.

"Yeah that's it. Cry and get it all out of your system. Don't be so sensitive, darling. I'm going to have a lot of fun out there, I can't be bothered to hear your whining."

He laughs a little, the sound not so amused, rather harsh and cold. With a shake of his head, he walks out the door.

The slamming of the door echoes through the entire apartment.

Oh I love this heartache!

MORE ID LIKE MORE OF THE ANGST AND ALSO A CHANCE TO BEAT THIS FUCKER TO THE GROUND-

[deerabigailhobbs]

Copy pasting my Hannibal/Gravity Falls AU rant to my friend I did yesterday because the lack of posts from my Tumblr recently is abhorrent. I hope this silly crossover rant makes up for that <3

When Ford is pushed through the portal, Stan has barely any time to comprehend what just happened, because it spits back out a mysterious girl gasping for breath as she grasps her bleeding neck (we know who this is). Now, Stan may not be a "qualified doctor" but being on the run from the law has taught him a thing or two about treating cuts and bruises, so he quickly scoops her up and gets to work cleaning and stitching.

A few days pass and Abigail is still sleeping, when all of a sudden Stan gets a knock. He's planning to tell whoever it is to get lost, but the guy looks awful, scruffy and wide eyed, spouting things about "divorce" and "custody" loss and "I'm so sorry Stanford." Stan is able to piece together an outline of who this guy is to his brother, a research partner who abandoned the project midway and somehow went slightly crazy for it. So he invites the man he learns is Fiddleford inside what happened to Ford, and what the portal brought to him.

Another few days go by. Stan and Fidds are scouring the journal for some answers, taking turns to check in on Abigail (they don't know her name yet tho). When one evening while having dinner, they hear a crash coming from Ford's room, where Abigail is.

They rush inside to find her wide eyed, her whole body shaking, particularly her hands which are clasped around a broken piece of glass she's pointing in the men's direction. She's shouting as loud as her horse voice will let her. Where is she? Where is Hannibal? Who are they?

Fidds, being more experienced in handling young people, gently approaches her, promising that they won't harm her. She doesn't look convinced, but brings her arm down, her hand bleeding from her grip on the glass shard.

They explain everything. The portal. Stanford. Her appearing in his place. She can't quite wrap her head around it. Dimensions? Portals? This is all science fiction nonsense. But then a thought appears in her mind. Any dimensions and possible realities. Which means there's a least one where she has a normal family. Where her father isn't the Minnesota strike. Where she can be a normal girl, have a normal life. She asks about this, and the Fidds says it's possible, but the portal has to be fixed first, and that they must get Stanford back. She promises she'll do anything to help if it means she can feel the love she's desperately craved