#there are obviously more ways to pair them up but these are the ones I like best/have some canon connection

[carasspice]

"My dear lady wife, is it really necessary for you to titillate the staff in that way?" asked the colonel as he sat back in his armchair, huffed and puffed on his cigar and stared across the room.

"My dear husband, you may have been a colonel in the army twenty years ago but that does not give you the right to bed our maid every afternoon. If I choose to have a little flirtatious enjoyment with the butler; the window cleaner; or the pizza delivery man I will. What's good for the goose etcetera."

"Pizza? But we don't eat pizza." he stuttered and puffed another cloud of his foul smoke into the air.

"You may not my dear, but your wife has certain needs that require a younger man's energy. Shall we leave it at that or do you require a more detailed explanation?"

"Oh rather. We may not get together so often these days but the maid appears happy enough and I do enjoy your exotic tales of debauchery. The colonel gets a little steamed up with the intimate details, however the moments that push my steam to the limits are when I have your frilly panties on my head, you have your hands on my knees with your underskirt high up your back and his todger is plunging relentlessly into your delightful derriere. Watching your ample titties swing back and forth as he plunges deep ... oh my word. I do so enjoy those times, such fun all round."

"As I am only too well aware and your good lady wife is happy to share such intimate moments, however my dear man, may I remind you that you were going to advertise for a younger butler, Atkinson is 78 and simply cannot get it up any longer. Johnson will be finished with the windows very soon, I will be heading upstairs to my bed chamber for the remainder of the afternoon should you care to watch us, otherwise you will have to wait until tomorrow for my summary."

"Atkinson has been in our employ for generations my dear, I will not exchange him for a younger model but why don't you book Johnson for additional work, would that suffice? I'll call him in to discuss possibilities."

"No you won't my love," she replied as she stripped to the waist, lay back and watched Johnson staring in between the blinds, "I believe that should I be able to offer him suitable rewards and make it worth his while, he may agree but that will depend on his other commitments, shall we say three afternoons per week or would you prefer me to have him in the mornings so to speak?"

"Quite so my love, there's nothing quite like a happy and fulfilled marriage in my opinion, mornings would be preferable as I hate to be disturbed when I have the maid in my hands. She is so supple and full of cuddles and squeaks when I catch her."

"If you say so my dear husband but I suspect that she catches you, you never were the quickest around the bed chamber."

"Hah, I confess that she has a few years advantage in that respect. While we are on this topic, I have a draw full of her white frilly panties, is it out of order to return them or what should I do with them?"

"Perhaps you should ask the girl later, I'm sure you will collect another pair today. Ah Johnson, I see you've finished and I have a proposition as long as you don't mind the colonel watching us cavorting from time to time."

"No milady, does the colonel prefer the bedroom, kitchen, library or in here?"

"Mister Johnson, the colonel would be delighted if you will kindly attend to her ladyship's bottom at ten o'clock sharp each Wednesday if you please as I am to be at my club by one."

"Variety is the spice of life Johnson, obviously Wednesday will be in the study with the colonel's presence es always, what would you say to Monday, Wednesday and Friday at ten o'clock. Terms will be agreed I trust, shall we go upstairs and commence our negotiations?"

xxx

[the-family-business-83]

Unexpected Calling – Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: None for this chapter, it's really all fluff. Maybe a slight disclaimer about a lil kid interacting with a total stranger and some mom panic, but nothing bad happens!

Word count: 2.4k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

A/N: Trying to let myself just enjoy wirting and not overthink it all too much, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little bit of filler but I thought it was cute and it was fun to write. And yes, I know, it took forever to get posted. I had a lot going on, and I still may not be posting super frequently but to those of you who love this series so far, rest assured: I will still post, even if it's slow.

Any and all mistakes are my own as this chapter is unbeta'd, I did all my own editing/proofreading for this.

Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Transportation had really come a long way from what he'd been so used to when he was younger. There were planes that's the air of the skies with their quiet rumblings, helicopters that you could hear coming long before they appeared, and cars. Cars were so different these days, he'd gotten used to them but it just wasn't the same. Some part of him still couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of phones being able to connect to the car. And that was just one of many new upgrades.

But Bucky didn't take his trip by air, customs were a bitch to get through on a normal day let alone when he needed to bring weapons with him. He didn't take a train either, because–well. He'd had an uneasy feeling with them ever since 1944 when he fell down the mountainside. So, instead he went by cross-country bus, and kept to himself in his seat once he got on and found one near the back where it was mostly empty. Being perfectly on time, if not a little early, there were a fewhandfuls people that he watched enter in the time that he waited for the bus to start moving. His watchful eye kept them in sight here and there but for the most part, he simply pulled his dark red baseball cap down a little lower and looked out the window to help hide his face. He could only hope that when one passenger entered with not one, not two; but three small children, that they wouldn't be very loud.

Oh how very wrong he had been. Not even 20 minutes into the trip and two of the rugrats were already whining and fighting with each other. Bucky could only stare at them in distaste as he blinked at the sight, wondering how in the world such tiny things could make so much noise. Granted, he'd never really had to deal with children, not like this anyway. And they couldn't have been any older than 3 or 5, each of them. The oldest of the three seemed to be perfectly fine and well-occupied, thank heavens but that didn't make it any more desirable

Sucking a deep breath in, Bucky suppressed the urge to ask the clearly struggling mother to turn off the screeching, and pulled out a book from his day-pack, beginning to flip through it to find his spot. Maybe if he just pretended they weren't there, they would disappear from his mind.

Not likely, but the effort was still made as he focused on the pages of the small paperback copy of The Hobbit he'd brought with him. Glancing up when it once again wasn't working well, he was caught by surprise when suddenly the older child was standing right there by his seat row, and admittedly he tensed in reaction as a sort of mini-flinch. She hadn't said a word, he hadn't even heard her walking over. But there she was, standing with her stuffed bunny in her arms, simply staring at him while he did the same. Both were quiet for a long moment before Bucky glanced up the way towards where her mother sat with her brothers, clearing his throat. "Can I…help you?" He asked a bit awkwardly as he brought his furrowed-brow gaze back to the little girl. Once more, she didn't really say anything, instead just looking him over quietly. Then, she climbed herself up into the seat next to his since it was open, and Bucky was starting to wish he'd put one of his bags there. "Hey, look, kid- your mom- ….what are you doing?"

She shrugged as he stumbled his words out, and glanced down at her bunny fiddling with it a little as she got settled in the seat. "Too loud." Her answer came simply, and while it didn't answer his question completely, he definitely understood the feeling.

Sighing slightly, he glanced towards her troubled mother once more, and then back to bunny-girl. "...Alright, what's your name kid?"

"Mandy." She replied quietly, glancing up at him a moment later with big green eyes. "What's yours mister?"

"Bucky. My name's Bucky." The man paused for a moment then, almost as if debating whether he should send her back to her family yet or not, but she was calm and quiet, and wasn't harming anything. And it wasn't like he was going to let anything happen to a little kid, so he dismissed the idea for now and instead went back to his book.

It was a minute or so later that he felt the little girl–Mandy, he reminded himself silently–leaning over the arm rest between them slightly to see what he was reading. Brows knitting once again, Bucky glanced from the pages to the young girl, whose curly pigtails somewhat bounced in the way of his view of the words. His mouth parted a fraction, ready to let something slip off his tongue to tell her to sit back and let him read. But nothing came. He didn't know how to tell the girl to get out of his space without, well… being a dick. This was a *child* it would have been different had it been an adult. So instead he simply blinked at her in silence as he debated how to handle it.

Mandy seemed to sense he was looking at her though, because then she met his gaze and inched back into place in her seat, curling around her stuffed, yellow bunny, the apology clear in her demeanor. "I just wanted to see your story." She muttered out, albeit the words likely came out a tad muffled because her bunny's head was pressed against her mouth slightly.

Kids. There was something about them that just- got to him. Admittedly, maybe some part of him had a soft spot. One that he'd probably always had, an instinct he'd never been able to shake. And maybe there was something about that moment that reminded him of the slightly younger girl that he'd been on his way to help, that made him realize he was already traveling across the states to investigate the disappearance of some kid's mother. A small gesture really couldn't hurt him. He may not have said anything, but he did nod, and as he brought his crisp blue hues back to the book in his hands, he started reading the words out to her, quietly but still loud enough to be heard against her brothers' tantrums.

Whatever she'd been expecting, Mandy seemed delightfully surprised when he began reading to her, and her eyes lit up as she looked from him to the book, leaning over once again but this time while staying back more in her seat meaning her head rested against his arm lightly, so that he could still see but she couldn't help wanting to peek. There was something about how trusting she was, about how trusting kids often seemed to be, that just genuinely baffled him. Maybe it was because he'd been so jaded for so long that it was just a mind boggling concept to see such innocence. Or maybe it simply was a brilliant anomaly that children lacked the cynicism of their parents and the adults around them, that they saw things grown-ups didn't and thought of things that were unique to them.

Bucky didn't know when the crying and whining had stopped, but eventually the sun went down around them and it was dark in the bus, nothing but the glow-in-the-dark caution stickers and the light of the full moon to let him read the words on the pages. And just as he'd glanced over towards the little girl next to him, seeing that she was well on her way to passing out completely, he heard her mother patter over looking both exhausted and annoyed. "Mandy- for God's sake, you cannot-" only then did the woman seem to register that her daughter was half asleep, not really hearing her mother much and so all that Mandy gave in response was a tired hum as she nuzzled against Bucky's arm a little more.

Well, shit. He may not be experienced with children but he knew enough to know that if he moved she might wake up. And frankly he didn't even know if she'd let him move. Glancing up towards the mother, he offered an apologetic smile. "Didn't mean to scare you…she just kind of walked on over and climbed up. Seemed like you had your hands full so I hope it's okay I kept her busy for you?" He whispered to her, stopping her before she could rage at him–if that was what she'd been about to do, that is. She looked tired, and scared, understandably so. And most of all she looked ashamed that she hadn't even noticed her daughter leave.

"O-oh…thank you, I- I mean, I'm sorry if she caused you any trouble, I just- yeah…those boys���sorry they were so loud, they're in that phase…" she apologized sheepishly in hushed tones of her own, rubbing her palms against the fronts of her jeans as her gaze flicked between her daughter and the quiet stranger of a man. "I passed out and then I…I woke up and she was gone, I'm so sorry sir."

"Not a problem, honestly. She's pretty decent company, let me read in peace with her." Reading that nervousness on the woman’s features, he paused for a moment before shrugging his free shoulder up. "Don't sweat it, I shoulda sent her back…I was going to, believe me but uh. Well, at least now you get a break, right?" He tried to ease her nerves, but then glanced down towards Mandy. "I can carry her back to your seat if you'd like."

He was just so damned kind, she thought. A complete stranger and yet her daughter was clearly safe and well, asleep even and yes, now everything was quiet and she had some time to relax. It didn't stop her mom-dar from going off, but at the very least she'd be a fool to not appreciate his kindness. "No, no it's… it's okay, I don't want to wake her, she's a bit of a light sleeper…just uh, if she wakes up let me know. I'm Erin, by the way…in case that helps." This time it was her turn to offer a kind smile.

"Bucky. Nice to meet you…I'll keep it in mind, hopefully she lets you have a break though." He chuffed an amused breath out his nose.

Doing the same, she shook her head. "Yeah, if only. Thanks, again…I'll let you uh. Read in peace." She teased lightly, taking a hand back through her hair as she went back to her seat before the driver could reprimand her for standing up so long.

Smiling in amusement at that, he watched Erin go back to her sons, and in turn went back to his book after a moment. It was the small things, that made life easier. The small things were what really made things worth it. Sure, saving the world and saving people was big, and it was good. And it was worth it. But sometimes it was moments where he managed to do something more mundane, and helped someone else, that made all the other shit worth it. Because it meant he was still capable of being human.

———

By the time the sun was back up, Bucky rose with it, his eyes slowly opening to the light streaming through the window and he groaned quietly at the crick in his neck from how he'd slept. Running his flesh hand over his face groggily, as he glanced around he noticed that the warmth that had been leaned up against his arm the night day before was no longer there. He would have been concerned, thinking he'd now somehow lost some stranger's child, but he saw the pigtail-bearing girl peeking up over her seat at him a moment later, watching her smile appear once more as she gave him a little wave. Crisis averted. Not like there was anywhere she could really go on a bus, but still.

Despite still being a bit plagued by morning sleepiness, he smiled back and gave the girl a small wave of his own before watching her sink back into her seat properly. Probably at the urging of her mother. His sleepiness didn't last long, though, because soon those boys were back to making noise, but at least it wasn't as much of a headache as yesterday because it was merely them playing and babbling about random things. That was tolerable. And so he relaxed a bit more, rolling out his neck some before he picked up his book again and went on reading.

Somewhere along the way, the lone mother with her trio of children had reached their stop and were gathering their things to leave. It was Mandy who escaped her mother's sight once again to go see the kind man at the back of the bus who had read to her, bunny still in her arms but this time with a warm smile in place. "Hi Mr. Bucky! Mommy said I shouldn't bother you again… but I just wanted to say I liked your story and you're very nice." She didn't give him time to process all of that before she climbed up in the same seat as before, and kissed his cheek for a moment before hearing her mother call her name.

"You're welcome, Mandy. I think your mom needs you though, better get going." He encouraged even as he seemed surprised by her display of affectionate gratitude. The little girl wiggled back down from the seat then, but not without turning to wave at him, walking backwards to do so. "Bye Mr. Bucky!" She rushed the words out before running along to catch up to her mother. Watching her run along, he smiled at her little goodbye, and waved back at her as she went on her way. He wished that woman luck with her undoubtedly trouble-filled journey, honestly. Because he had his own coming up and somehow he felt like she was going to have it harder.

The rest of his ride went on rather uneventful, and when he arrived at his stop it was almost nighttime. But he was all the more closer to getting this job done, so saddling himself up with all his bags, he made his way into town and started heading for the address he'd gotten on the envelope.

Tags: @baw1066 @fluffydanger @vicmc624 @sjsmith56 @capswife @dispatchvampire @sofi1sstuff @sarbear94 @impeterporker @hhiggs @safiraish @kayden666 @saltedcoffeescotch @mcubuckyandsteve @thebuckybarnesvault @himikotoga

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot Donnie Ref Sheet

Y'all genuinely have no idea how happy I am right now. With many, many years of work, the Weak Spot Donatello ref sheet is finally done and @garbagemilkshake is truly one of the greatest people to ever grace this planet. I say with full honesty that WS would not have near the same visual impact without their art. Now that this treasure is finally a reality, I'm holding nothing back. Below I breakdown all kinds of detail about what you see above and all I can say before that is thank you to each and every one of you who've been kind enough to read my work! This one goes out to you!

Villain's Mark Reference Sheets:

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. - Donatello - Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael

PREFACE TIME!

Now it may seem like way overdue from the outsider perspective, but let me tell you, I have been trying near non-stop to get this damn thing done. Interest in getting WS Donnie's ref sheet made dates all the way back to around Chapter 9ish of Weak Spot, but very technically to April of 2023. An artist was commissioned to make it and all I will say on that matter is that they decided they could not continue. Thus began my new search. There was a ton of criteria: Someone willing to make a ref sheet of this size, someone willing to associate with NSFW content, and someone willing to do mechanical props.

Unfortunately, I would fruitlessly search until eventually I had Garbage on as a chapter artist. I eventually asked if Garbage was up to it (they totally were) and we decided to test out the other turtle's ref sheets first. It may not seem like it, but a ref sheet of this size is an ENORMOUS undertaking. I seriously cannot praise Garbage enough. As you all know, the other turts ref sheets were stunning. We planned out what was needed for Donnie's and starting May 2024, work began. Garbage would routinely take time off of doing chapter art or what need be (I'm too discombobulated to remember when their vacation was). Their happiness and life takes top priority in my book and after all the time I'd spent searching for someone just to do the ref sheet, I did not mind it getting sidelined in the slightest. Garbage was doing me a huge favor after all, commission or not!

BUT WHO CARES!! WE'RE HERE AND IT'S DONE!!! 🎉🎉🎉

Let's get into it with the turnaround!

The turnaround! Finally we have the definitive collection of Donnie's scars! it was tricky and we ended up needing to label him like some anatomical model to get all the mentions in. Some scars will look a little familiar to you and other's might not, but dang, I sure did a TON of scar research. From hypertrophic (raised scars) to atrophic (scar that don't have enough scar tissue to heal and are sunken in comparison) to how sharp blades versus dull ones cut skin raise what kind of scars. I have a bunch of gorey references for all that, but I doubt anyone wants to see that. Instead let's go into inspirations and the like:

First off, in spot 4, Donnie's electrical scars!

You probably think I ripped them off from Replica or Unknown and that wouldn't be totally wrong, but it wouldn't be right. Obviously I'm a huge fan of both artists (go support their patreons), but my thoughts were always more in the camp of getting Villain Donnie from A to B. I was planning alongside a canon timeline and my thoughts were he would have definitely created himself a pair of show goggles, but there was no way, with what he went through, that those would make it to adulthood. When I considered where he was mostly likely to lose them and that I wanted him to give himself laser eye surgery (again, show accurate, he had glasses once!) that I could knock both out if he were to have damaged the goggles, rendering him deaf and needing cochlear implants.

Now spot 2, the body augmentation, reaches outside the fandom and to Megalo Box of all things!

I only watched an episode or so, but the way Joe scrapped together gear was something that stuck with me. When I was conceptualizing WS Donnie and came to the conclusion he didn't have ninpo, I thought a lot about what he would do when the others got there. The logical conclusion was turning towards his tech and Megalo Box was right there with the idea.

Donnie's body augmentation gear has not been depicted as of yet, but it absolutely looks like something out of Megalo Box. I additionally did research into other wearable tech and came across the ExoArm.

Studying their information on what nerve points and muscles needed to be hit was what helped me ultimately decide where the extraction points on Donnie's arm would be. The starbursts on Donnie's arm are where the pins for the device were forceably torn out when they 'failed' him. The lines between them are where the wires that connected pin points were similarly torn out. They created finer scars.

I want to highlight the barely seen spot 7, Neural Implant, with an extreme close up:

It may seem like just the curvature of his noggin, but it's actually Donnie's one clean scar. It was his only surgery he was truly careful with as it chanced his brain stem and spine if he messed up. Without his ninpo, he implanted a chip to coordinate with his tech more seamlessly. It's inspired by the fic Switch by unorthodoxx, which shout-out! Again, if someone comes up with a neat concept, that stuff sticks with me!

Spot 6, Mystic Chains aka where Donnie got his foot ripped off and it might not be for the reason you think. I wanted to make mention here, that you might remember the chapter art from chapter 43 of Weak Spot and that Donnie did not have a port sticking out back then. That's growth kids because it took me until after to realize that he would need something inserted to connect to a working prosthetic.

Finally, it was tough to figure out how best to depict all of Donnie's shell damage. It's reveal is such a huge moment in Weak Spot and I knew he would have what was basically insurmountable damage to have made it a specific weak spot to him (if you know what I'm saying 😏) The number 8, spike holes are just that, Donnie hit some spikes. Think of him having been shut in like an iron maiden or maybe trapped by a spike wall that was reminiscent of the ones in the Maze of Death in the Minotaur Maze episode of canon.

As for spot 10, Shredder, we see this Donnie suffered for not having a bulkier battle shell. When he was attacked by shredder in this moment:

His shell took that damage directly.

The last spot I want to touch on is 9, the Odachi marks, the larger blob one is when Leo attempted to, but held back from severing Donnie's spine and the other is from Leo trimming Donnie's spines (aka from being a Spiny Softshell). I made this extremely helpful infographic to explain to Garbage at one point exactly what was trimmed off in the latter:

Moving on to outfit variants and expressions!

I hope this section is pretty self explanatory, but I did want to make a note: Donnie wears his wraps as seen in Lounge Looks around his arms and neck under all his clothing and at most hours due to his constant pain. Also, the examples of Donnie's emotions are something that only came around during Weak Spot. He hardly emoted before he met reader.

Last, But Not Least we got prop close-ups!

The prosthetic shown here is specifically Donnie's comfiest, aka the one he uses at home. I didn't bother adding any other prosthetics because his others are either shoe prosthetic (aka the shoe is fit so it directly attaches to is port) or a prosthetic that is made to perfectly replicate what his foot looks like (which visually looks like he just has his real foot). His prosthetic is actually a straight rip off of a real one!

When researching prosthetics, I found this one and it struck me as so similar to the turtle's actual feet (with the 'two toes' and heel) that I thought this had to be Donnie's prosthetic.

We get a good look at Donnie's glasses. As a reminder, the arms (temples) of Donnie's glasses attach to his head via magnets. He's got a little metal in his head from the electrical burns and cochlear implant so he made use of it when he made a facsimile of his goggles. The whole point of his glasses is they mimic the vision specs/knowledge he needs to access without them being a danger to his person. They are meant to be easily removable and they do not have lenses. The color projected in them is just that (a projection) and it only works if it's close enough to Donnie's neural implant and he wills them to be turned on.

Our final order of business is WS Donnie's battle shell! This is the first time it's ever been depicted! I always knew he was going to have a different sort of battle shell when I was created this version of Donnie. His show shell is just too bulky for what this Donnie could afford. Since he dabbled a lot of easily concealable tech, I took a lot of inspiration from Iron Man. The battle shell, as we know from Weak Spot, can grow and resize to its user. I specifically had this gif in mind whenever I thought about how the battle shell grows on one's back:

I did a ton of research into body armor itself, since that is what Donnie would specifically need it for and found this specific piece that I thought fell perfectly in line with both the Iron Man idea and utility of a realistic battle shell for this Donnie.

and that's just about everything! Again, thank you to anyone who made it this far. Thank you for reading my works! Thank you for literally everything! Round up thanks to my betas, to Garbage, to everyone dangit!

[villain-byteniwoha]

i love this take and i agree with anon like. on their own, diana, selina, and/or talia all fascinate me and i'd love to explore more of their characters but when paired with bruce, it suddenly feels off? and while i blame this on the general (often shit) quality of writing when it comes to female characters, there's also the underlying fact that superbat just feels more consistent

because they're meant to parallel one another, right? they're on opposite ends of cliche tropes (rich city boy/humble country boy, orphaned at a young age/grew up with doting parents, night and day, sun and moon, etc.) those core motifs and traits rarely get lost, and even if their characters get butchered in some series or other, at the end of the day, we all know what batman and superman stand for.

and while they're painted to be polar opposites, they still stand together.

something i absolutely despise when it comes to any franchise is when the narrative so obviously, desperately wants to push a romance that it often neglects the context it exists within to pursue that romantic aspect, and it's usually at the woman's expense. knowing this trend disillusions me from most m/f writing altogether tbh

so for superbat, who've been developing this relationship (which is varied, complex, with so many ups and downs) for literal decades, it almost seems natural for them to end up together, in a way.

op brought up a point at the end there about them being similar and it reminded me of these pages (don't ask me where i got these, i just have them downloaded)

and again, it's this selfless thing between them. they motivate each other to be better, they see one another for their flaws, they see good. it's so uniquely them!! it's interesting, it's touching, it's fucking insane ngl and it's just one of the many facets of their relationship

The thing is... I understand Clark/Lois and Clark/Lana, and Superbat feels coherent to that.

I do not tend to understand Bruce's canon-y ships. I don't quite get WonderBat (which is sweet, but why do they fascinate each other?) or BatCat (Catwoman feels like a sexual icon. I don't get why Bruce Wayne, expert at making himself a sexual icon just as well, would be taken in by that) or Talia/Bruce (She seems a bit... square minded for Bruce?? She's a heir to a legacy, like he is, but she doesn't... need to search for what that means. Ras tells her what to do.) Superbat makes more sense to me than all of Bruce's actual ships.

Am I tripping? What are your thoughts on this?

you come to me, a superbat blog, to ask me if I think it's better than the other Bruce ships? 🤣

in all seriousness, superbat works because their canon friendship is so deep and varied. they are often written in contrast or comparison to each other. they work together nearly 24/7. they hang out together outside of work. even their private lives intersect, despite best efforts. if you write a romantic relationship for the two of them, you're really just building on an already-built foundation. and that foundation is so much more rich and complex than any other relationships the two will have, save maybe Clark and Lois.

the reason they work, in my mind, is that they think they're different, but when those differences are thrown in relief, they're really more similar than they think. they're both good men trying to be something beyond one person, one human or alien. and they both share the belief that the other is a better person, deep down, than they are.

[wordsarelife]

𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 ☽ ༓ ☾ ₘ.ₗᵢₛₜ

IN WHICH the slytherins stumble into one chaos after the other and always manage to make things worse than they were. oh and you're there too!

pairing: ?? x fem!nott!reader, platonic!slytherins x fem!nott!reader

content: chaotic days in the lives of our favorite slytherins, not fitting the typical canon themes of harry potter

warnings: swearing, suggestive content, mature themes, bad humour, ooc behaviour, individual chapter warnings

note: here it finally is!! planning this series was so much fun!! as soon as i have most of the series written, i think the 'episodes' will come out once every week. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

SEASON 1 !

episode 01. what’s the plan again?

ೃ⁀➷ mattheo’s sure he’s cracked the case this time, but his “genius” plan drags everyone into a mess. theo’s annoyed, blaise is convinced he'll die, enzo’s just trying to stay out of it and draco’s researching ways to dispose of evidence. what started as a small mystery spirals out of control, and now they’re all in way deeper than they ever imagined. oops.

episode 02. haunted, obviously

ೃ⁀➷ mattheo’s “protective charm” locks everyone out of their rooms, forcing them to spend the night in the common room. no wands, no teachers, and strange noises that send blaise and enzo into full panic mode. as paranoia grows, they’re left wondering if they’re really safe—or if something darker is lurking in the shadows.

episode 03. confusion: signed, sealed, delivered

ೃ⁀➷ a mysterious love letter, oddly lacking both a sender and a recipient, shakes things up in the group. everyone has a theory—who wrote it, who it’s for, and who’s making the situation way more awkward than it needs to be. (hint: it's everyone.)

SEASON 2 !

episode 04. who's dating who?

ೃ⁀➷ to be continued

episode 05. checkmate, idiots

ೃ⁀➷ to be continued

episode 06. awkward, as usual

ೃ⁀➷ to be continued

SEASON 3 !

episode 07. the kiss

ೃ⁀➷ to be continued

episode 08. curse me once, shame on you

ೃ⁀➷ to be continued

episode 09. tell theo i said hi

ೃ⁀➷ to be continued

EXTRAS !

ೃ⁀➷ tweets

ೃ⁀➷ playlist

ೃ⁀➷ short and chaotic drabbles

TAGLIST !

@mehrsdigitaldiary @swaysister @shyamanuensis @mattiesgf @shari-berri @the-lurking-await-you @marikajhaha

let me know if you want to be added!!

[livingformintyoongi]

🪷: Our Jimin and for the AU.... he works at an animal shelter and MC volunteered once- or she was supposed to- but she finds herself there anytime she's free these days

Just Another Good Deed | Park Jimin

Author’s note: Hello, my dearest husband's partner! Thank you so much for making the request, I really loved the idea <3 I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it ^^ (Really my favorite part was the moodboard, I loved it, patted myself on the back and everything). Pairing: Veterinarian!Jimin x Volunteer!Reader Word count: 1.8k Warnings/tags: Little appearance of big brother Yoongi because he is my bias wrecker and if I can get him in, I will :), and that's all, it's all very fluffy. Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @tan-veee @angellekookie @madussthoughts Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You glanced one last time at the rearview mirror in Yoongi’s car, adjusting your hair for the fourth time. It was hard to decide which side looked better.

"Yoongi, quick, which looks better? Over my ears or tucked behind them?" you turned to him, arranging your hair both ways so he could carefully consider his options.

“It looks the same to me,” he mumbled in the same monotone voice he used, well, almost every day he spent time with you. “Besides, why does it matter? We’re going to an animal shelter, not a double date.”

You rolled your eyes, finally deciding on leaving your hair over your ears; it framed your face more beautifully, and the soft waves made it stand out even more that way. “I can look nice for the shelter if I want to. I don’t need some hidden agenda, you know?”

Ignoring your comment, Yoongi pulled out his car keys and stepped out. You weren’t surprised to see him coming around to your side of the car to open the door and help you out. Your brother might have been a man of very few words—and expressions—but your mom had raised him to be a true gentleman.

“Alright, come on, let’s move. We’ve got a lot of work to do,” you grabbed his arm and pulled him along, slightly slowing his pace as you approached the entrance. Just a few more steps, and you’d see him again. You had to bite the inside of your lip to stop yourself from smiling too soon.

Yoongi, keeping up with your pace with his usual calm expression, couldn’t help but notice the strange look on your face. He could understand you wanting to dress up to go out—that was fine, everyone liked to look good—but the fact that you’d been smiling the whole way here and that you’d been visiting this shelter every week—or any chance you got—made him think that maybe...

“Oh! Y/N, it’s you,” a cheerful voice said. The man wore a white shirt and black jeans—a terrible choice for working with animals, but that wasn’t his problem, so he ignored it. His dark hair fell gracefully over his forehead, and his plump lips gave him a sweet image that would definitely charm any woman—or man—who crossed his path.

Now everything made sense.

“Jimin, hi!” you quickly let go of Yoongi’s arm, giving the man in front of you the brightest smile you could muster. “It’s so nice to see you here—I mean, obviously you’re here, you work here, but you know, it’s always great running into you,” you said awkwardly, ending with a nervous laugh.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were the strangest creature in the world. It was the first time he’d seen you so nervous around a guy, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or get mad. What was a big brother supposed to do in these situations? Get jealous?

“Likewise, it’s really great to see you here so often. I’m grateful to have someone like you supporting the shelter,” Jimin said with a soft, charming smile. If you hadn’t been holding onto your brother’s arm, you might have collapsed right there. Were you being dramatic? Absolutely. Were you lying about it? Absolutely not. His simple gaze already made your legs weak, and his smile? Don’t even mention it.

The small gesture of your hands wrapped around Yoongi’s arm immediately caught Jimin’s attention. You’d never mentioned having a boyfriend, and you’d never come to the shelter with someone before. It was only natural to be curious, right? “And… who’s he...?”

“Yoongi,” your brother answered, straightening his back to appear taller and lowering his voice a few tones deeper than usual. “I’m her older brother. And you are?”

“Oh, sorry, how rude of me,” Jimin gave a slight bow before returning to his original stance, not without first running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back. Yoongi swore he heard you squeal. “I’m Park Jimin. I work here.”

“Yoongi, why don’t you go check out the cats?” you laughed nervously, wishing your brother would disappear so you could be alone with Jimin. “I heard Unnie mention she’d really like to have a cat at home.”

“She said that?” Yoongi turned to you so quickly that it startled you; you knew his girlfriend was his soft spot, and you would use it against him as often as necessary if it meant he would drop his overprotective older brother act. Plus, you knew enough about his girlfriend to be sure she’d love to have a cat.

“Yes, she says it all the time,” you nodded quickly, pushing him toward where you knew the cats were. You hoped that would keep him distracted for a few minutes. “Now go, hurry, don’t waste time.”

Both you and Jimin watched as Yoongi walked off, confused, looking for someone he could ask about the cats. Only when he disappeared from your sight did you turn back to Jimin.

“So… how can I help today?” you asked with a smile, feeling your chest flutter as he looked at you with those kind, gentle eyes. You probably needed to calm down if you didn’t want to get caught just yet.

“I didn’t know you had a brother; I thought he was your boyfriend or something,” Jimin said softly, chuckling as he watched the cat in front of them shake itself vigorously to get the water off its fur. It was cute—its coat was light-toned, and its blue eyes were so bright and big that it was impossible not to fall in love with it. This little cat had arrived at the shelter the same day you did; it was skittish, wouldn’t let anyone touch or feed it, and it was crucial to give it a check-up due to a possible infection in its left eye. Jimin had been the only one able to keep it calm and treat it properly so the infection could heal effectively.

Maybe that was the moment when you fell for him. There was something about the sweet and caring way he handled animals that made your heart race and your stomach churn.

“Well, I don’t talk much about my family when we’re together,” you said with a slight smile, preparing the towel to cover the cat and dry it. It was still cold outside, and it wasn’t ideal for the cat to get sick at this time of year.

“I’d like to know more about them,” he murmured softly, gently cleaning the cat’s ears. The cat—who still didn’t have an official name but whom you had called Taemin in your mind from day one—closed its big eyes and started purring, rubbing its head against Jimin’s soft touch. Ah, how much you wished you were a cat. “And more about you in general.”

You turned to look at him, feeling a wave of warmth rise to your face as you realized he had been looking at you all along. Damn Park Jimin, why did he have to be so handsome? You felt like throwing the stupid towel in his face.

“O-oh, really? Why would you want that? I mean, my life’s not that interesting and—”

“But I’m interested,” he said, taking the towel from your hands and letting his fingers brush against yours in a way that definitely wasn’t accidental. His dark eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time, and his damn lips were curved into a smile the whole time.

Calm down, Y/N, you can’t just go around kissing people without their permission—that’s not okay.

“Anything that has to do with you interests me. I thought that was obvious by now,” he said. After an intense staring match—which he obviously won—he wrapped Taemin in the towel and picked him up in his arms, one hand holding the cat’s weight to cradle him like a baby while the other rested on his furry head.

“Well, no, it wasn’t,” you replied awkwardly, trying to fully process whatever he was trying to tell you. Wasn’t it a bit presumptuous to think that meant he wanted something more with you? Had being single finally driven you crazy, making you see things that weren’t there? “Just so there’s no misunderstanding…” You rubbed your hands against your pants and looked at him expectantly. “Does that mean that…?”

Jimin let out a laugh before looking at you with his eyes turning into crescents from his smile. “It means I’d love to finally get your number.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Y-yes! Sure, g-give me your phone, and I’ll write it down right now,” you said, extending your hands toward him, trying to stop them from trembling so much and revealing how nervous you were. Too bad your body never obeyed your brain.

“Here,” he murmured, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and handing it to you. His constant gaze on you made you even more nervous. You had to rewrite your number more than four times because you kept making mistakes. Both of you smiled when you called your number from his phone, and your ringtone sounded almost instantly.

Oh, shit. You had his number now.

“Y/N, let’s go!” Yoongi’s voice called from a few meters away. You were genuinely surprised to see that he actually had a small carrier in his hands, from which you could see two tiny green eyes staring at you from the darkness inside.

Its gaze looked a lot like Yoongi’s.

“Well, I guess you have to go,” Jimin said, adjusting Taemin in his arms as he watched Yoongi waiting for you near the exit. Truthfully, he didn’t want you to leave yet, but he understood he wasn’t in a position to ask you to stay, especially since you had come with your brother.

“Yeah, it seems like it,” you murmured, glancing briefly at your brother before putting all your attention back on Jimin. He had indirectly said he liked you, at least a little, right? And you had known each other for quite some time now… Well, you only live once, and you didn’t like living with regrets. You stepped closer to him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek—quite close to his lips—before stepping back and waving softly to say goodbye.

Then, you ran toward your brother as fast as you could, internally hoping he wouldn’t mention anything about it.

Ah, if only you had taken the time to notice Jimin’s face, you would have seen the bright pink covering his cheeks and the embarrassed smile spreading across his face like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

At least Yoongi had the luck to witness it, and he would definitely tease you endlessly about it.

Masterlist

[thewinter-eden]

psycho | han jisung (17/20)

17 : master of levity

Pairings: HAN JISUNG x OC | LEE MINHO x 2nd OC

Rating: mature

cross posted on AO3 under the_winter_eden and wattpad under alone-at-last.

Warnings: discussions of murder, torture, rape, pregnancy

psycho masterlist Comment a request to be tagged!

< last chapter | next chapter >

pov : anna

Like most mornings in a busy hospital, Anna wakes up to soft voices in the doorway of her hospital room. There’s always someone in close proximity to her, either the security guards or the police officers or the nurses or the psychiatrists—any number of the entire village that it takes to attempt to rehabilitate five victims of torture and captivity. They’re always hovering, always checking in, always on guard.

She shifts around stiffly and tries to coax her eyes open, the squeaking of her uncomfortable bed catching the attention of the two men, their voices hushing immediately. Her vision is a blur, refusing to help her identify them across the short distance.

After just over a week in that sanitary room, on a constant drip of nutrition and medication, her brain has finally stopped trying to convince her that when she opens her eyes she’ll be back in that hell. She wakes from her warm and fitful sleep to the sound of machinery and chatting voices, the smell of coffee and clean floors, and knows she’s as far away from those tunnels as she can be.

But unfortunately, just because she’s grown used to the comfort and safety of the hospital, doesn’t mean the nightmares have stopped. She didn’t expect any different, of course, and neither do the therapists and psychiatrists who visit her every other day. It’s all normal, it’s natural to be tormented by those dreams, it’s expected to have to give her subconscious more time to recover.

That’s what they tell her while she’s sitting in memories that threaten to drown her.

They tell her it’s normal that Han visits her every night.

Every night, he pulls her into his arms and takes her life, and every morning she wakes with violent ire in her bones.

But that’s all okay, because they expect it.

If one more person responds to her cries for help with words like ‘don’t worry, that’s normal’ she thinks she may scream.

“Oh, hey.” Seungmin’s voice brings her back to the present as he steps closer to her bed, smiling with the warmth of an old friend. He always does that—greet her like he’s been waiting to see her again. She wishes she could just enjoy his kindness without being reminded of the way Han used to do the same thing.

“How do you feel?” He asks, reaching toward a table and grabs a lidded plastic cup with a handle and a straw. “You want some water?” When she nods in response, he brings the straw to her lips. He’s careful with his movements, careful not to overwhelm her, and when he cups the back of her head to help her sit up and drink, she gratefully accepts the assistance.

He’s spent a lot of time with her over the past week, enough that he’s comfortable sitting on the edge of her bed when they talk, which he does now. He doesn’t encroach, he doesn’t pry, he doesn’t try to take on the role of therapist or parent, he just sits and keeps her company.

After letting her get her bearings for a moment, Seungmin gestures for the other man to enter the room. The guy, who has been leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, now straightens and dusts off his jacket.

Anna looks up to find a young man, obviously strong and lean, well manicured and formally dressed, approaching her with a nervous smile. His shiny shoes tap softly against the floor. He adjusts his watch, and then adjusts his tie. “Hi, Anna,” He greets in a low voice. “You look much better than the last time I saw you.”

She blinks, confused. As far as she knows, she’s never seen this man before in her life. She would have remembered his objectively exquisite features. She can’t believe he’s bizarrely commenting on how she looks when he shows up as yet another unfairly gorgeous friend of Seungmin and Minho.

The most stunning men she’s ever met keep floating in and out of her room, and she looks like a skeleton with scars.

Life isn’t fair.

Seungmin scoffs and rolls his eyes at the man’s words, leaning over her to put the cup back on the table. “Anna, this is Park Jimin. He’s the one who found you in the chair and brought you to the ambulance. And, yeah, he’s just as rich as he looks.”

Oh.

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up at Seungmin’s statement and he cocks his head at the younger man. There’s an enjoyable second of brotherly tension as he reaches out and clamps a hand to the police officer’s shoulder, a dangerous saccharine smile curling his lips, threats in his posture but no malice in his eyes.

“You mean when I was dead?”

She looks a lot better than the last time he saw her.

Jimin lets out a breath and drops his hand away from Seungmin’s shoulder, this time turning his shocked gaze on the young woman in the bed. It’s like his brain resets to allow him to properly process her blunt question, and when he does, disbelief washes over his expression. “You laugh now, but my god.” His hand lifts to grip his own chest anxiously. “My clients never die when I’m protecting them. That was a new and horrible experience for me.”

Anna glances from him to Seungmin. “Clients?” He’s dressed in a suit and tie, hair perfectly coiffed, looking like the last person who would be fishing dead bodies out of the sewer. And to Seungmin’s comment, he did look rich. Filthy rich.

“He runs a private security company.” Seungmin explains. “Bodyguards. You were the first one we found down there that day. Jimin was the one who found you, actually, and luckily for us, he was fast enough to get you help in time to bring you back to us.”

She lets her gaze return to Jimin, who awkwardly smooths his tie down with one hand. He doesn’t look that much older than herself, and she can see the relief in his expression that tells her he was fairly shaken by her rescue. She can’t imagine what must have been going through his mind to suddenly find himself wading through the hellscape that was those tunnels and end the night by hauling a dead person out of it.

Jimin clears his throat. His eyes flash nervously around the room before he finally manages to settle them on her face, that awkward smile returning to his lips. “Ah, yes, I—uh, I’m very glad to see you—uh…” He scratches the back of his neck.

“Breathing?” She can’t help the dry smile, especially when he huffs out another unbelieving laugh.

It breaks the tension.

“Yes, breathing.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, and then cracks a grin. It’s painfully clear that the last thing he was expecting was for her to be treating her own death like something to joke about—he doesn’t know that it’s the least traumatizing part about her miserable experience in the tunnels. “Damn, girl, you’re a master of levity.” He shakes his head. “I’m here to make sure everything’s good with my boys. The guards outside your door belong to my company, not the police, so don’t worry.”

Seungmin picks up her hand and gives it a squeeze, running a thumb over her puffy burn scars like they’re not even there. “All the girls have 24/7 guard details. You’re completely safe.”

Anna bites her tongue at that.

She wasn’t completely safe when the Chief of Police held her captive in a torture chamber.

She wasn’t completely safe with the boy she trusted more than anyone else.

There’s no such thing as completely safe.

Before another wave of fury can drown her, Anna shifts her eyes back to Jimin, the man who had found her, unresponsive, dead, already gone, and decided to try to save her anyway.

What if someone else had found her?

What if someone else had determined her a lost cause and left her there in the name of rescuing a living prisoner?

“Thank you for getting me out of there.” She says quietly.

Jimin stares for a second, apparently suffering emotional whiplash, and then shakes his head. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Her head cocks the same way his had only a few moments before as she watches him grow flustered under her intense gaze. “If pulling my body out of a dungeon so that I may be brought back to life isn’t grounds for thanks, then what is?” It’s absurd to her, that he would shrug off what he did as though it doesn’t make literally all the difference in the world to her.

Like, she’s expected to say thank you when a waiter brings her a soda (that she ordered), but when a random man (who had no business rescuing captured women in the first place) makes an uncomfortable judgement call that grants her her life, she’s not allowed to thank him?

It doesn’t really matter, he’s just being humble, but it bothers her.

She doesn’t know why, but it bothers her.

Jimin nods with a small smile. “You’re right, good point. And I really am glad you made it back. I’ll be around the hospital for about another hour or so, checking in on the guards. Is there anything I can get for you while I’m here?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

Another bizarre sentiment from the fancy security guy.

Anna finds herself blinking blankly once again. “Uh, I think I’ve used up all my favors from you. Like, for life.”

Seungmin breaks into laughter, thoroughly enjoying the flustered/frustrated duo performance in front of him. “She’s right, dude, carrying her dead body up three flights of stairs pretty much earns you all the credit you want.”

Jimin’s cheeks burn bright red as his eyes dart between the two people before him. Finally, too overwhelmed by the completely wrong energy in the room, he practically spontaneously combusts into whining complaints. “Would the two of you quit it?” His hand scrubs the back of his neck again. “Honestly, this room is so exhausting. I come in here to make sure you guys are okay and safe and get abused for my trouble.” There’s a very Han-like pout on his lips that makes Anna’s amused smile freeze.

Jimin doesn’t notice. “I’m gonna go next door and check on Ruby. At least she doesn’t glare at me.” He flashes Anna a pointed look, but his eyes are twinkling in the gentle light.

She just shrugs, still reeling. She’s not really in the mood to joke and tease, but the bafflement she keeps trading back and forth with Jimin had at least distracted her for a moment from her rage. At least, before he had looked at her with those perfectly rounded eyes and pouty mouth and struck her with heavy-handed memories of Han.

After the older man leaves, Seungmin raises his eyebrows at her, completely oblivious to the sour taste in her mouth and the concrete in her gut. “Unbelievable.”

Trying desperately to regain that levity that had abused Jimin so badly, she snatches her hand back from him, falling into the sibling-like rivalry that they’ve developed since she regained consciousness. “What?”

“You can barely get up to use the bathroom by yourself and here you are, flirting like you got game.”

She launches her water cup at him, which he catches easily without spilling a drop. “I was not flirting. All I did was talk to the man.”

The young police officer practically snickers. “Yeah, sure. I, personally, always banter with hot people the first time I meet them.”

“You think he’s hot?”

“You don’t?”

“That, apparently, wasn’t the first time I’ve met him, anyway.”

“You were dead, that doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, I think we’re both a little too facetious about that.” Anna scrunches herself down in her bed until her blanket comes up to her nose. It does little to hide the flush on her cheeks, but he doesn’t need to know that it’s not caused by his remarks about his friend. “Especially since it seems to have traumatized Jimin.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “And here I thought you already had a boyfriend.”

The joke falls flat immediately.

He sees it kill the mood, watches the shadow fall over her expression, notices the way her fists clench. “Shit, Anna, I’m sorry.” It’s too late to take it back.

Her eyes slide away from him. She can’t hide her reaction this time.

“I’m sure Han is alright, Anna, we’ll find him.” Seungmin finds her hand again. “I’m sorry, it was a dumb thing to say.”

The truth is on the tip of her tongue. She’s bursting with it, just aching to scream and rant about the boy who betrayed her and poisoned her and killed those other girls, and yet the words don’t come.

Her cheeks heat with embarrassment, heart clenching with hurt. It’s too raw to put into words.

All she can think about are all the days he treated her wounds with gentle hands, all the nights he held her in his arms, all the sweet words he spoke to her.

When she opens her mouth, instead of the truth, a sob comes out.

It hurts too much to explain. There’s physical, stabbing pain in her heart at the memory of his cruelty, and if she recounts it out loud she knows she’ll shatter.

She already feels herself falling into a million pieces, so many that she knows she’ll never be whole again.

Seungmin puts his arms around her, kicking himself. “It’s okay,” He whispers as she cries. “I’m sorry, Anna, we’ll find him.”

“We found him.”

Anna’s heart is exploding in her ears, and Seungmin can’t meet her eyes. She doesn’t even notice.

It’s the day after she met Jimin, and her room is packed full of people. Seungmin, Minho, Ruby, Cass, Kara, Jo, and police commissioner Min Yoongi.

It had started out as such a good day, too. The hospital had given her fresh fruit and eggs for breakfast, which, as with anything, was infinitely better than broth and bread twice a day.

Then Felix had come by, bringing her a heavenly cup of coffee and a 1930s binding of one of the Nancy Drew books missing from her collection, and he and Seungmin had joined her on her very slow and very clumsy walk down the halls. She’d felt stronger than yesterday and happier about her prospects in terms of healing than she had yet.

By the time they got back to her room, there were fresh flowers on her bedside table, and her parents had come to see her, laden with a bag of her own clothes from home.

After that came the wheelchair parade, and Min Yoongi’s ominous announcement.

We found him.

The girls that she’d spent varying lengths of time in captivity with all sit around her bed in their wheelchairs, watching her reaction. They’re staring at her like she has the right to hear it first, like she’s the only one who has the right to care.

They found Han.

Yoongi had planned the meeting to debrief the girls, to start collecting their accounts of captivity, but evidently the discovery of Han was the first thing on his agenda.

Anna can’t breathe as the commissioner turns to her.

“I understand you were closest to him?”

She can’t respond. She’s choking on dread and apprehension, and the words she needs to tell them that Han can’t be trusted, that he’d killed just like Cain had, that he—

“I’m very sorry, Anna, but we found him this morning. He was left in an old farmhouse just outside of town. There was nothing we could do.”

Conflicted feelings crush her heart. The girls around her are reacting in their own ways, devastated by the news, eyes filling with tears for the boy they think they knew. “He’s dead?” Anna’s crying, tears falling freely, and she doesn’t want to know why.

Is she grieving the boy who gave her hope?

Is she relieved that the boy who betrayed her is gone?

Is it both?

She doesn’t want to know.

Yoongi nods. “He’s dead. It looks like, probably, Cain couldn’t manage both hostages on his own, on the run. Maybe Han tried to take advantage, tried to get the upper hand—”

Jo is crying loudly, but Anna can only wonder about the details.

“Cain killed him?”

Seungmin silently grabs her hand and holds it against her thigh. She feels his thumb caress her scars like he always does, but it doesn’t make her feel any better.

Yoongi nods again. “Cause of death was one of Cain’s signatures. I’m sorry.”

It doesn’t make sense.

It’s too awful.

It’s too good to be true.

“Are you sure it was him?” Her voice is almost too broken to catch.

“Our last photographs of him are quite old, from when he was much younger, but based on those and your descriptions of him, yes. We’re sure.” Yoongi says gently.

She can barely hear anything, can barely feel Seungmin’s hand wrapped around hers. He’s gone.

Han’s gone.

“What about his little brother?” Cass asks. “His name is Jeongin. Have you found him?”

Anna’s eyes snap shut.

The bones from the pantry flash to mind and her stomach flips.

It’s all so screwed up.

Han’s little brother was dead the whole time.

Han was a killer the whole time.

She thinks she might throw up.

There’s hesitation in Yoongi’s voice as he answers. “Ah, right. It seems…that is, we found Jeongin’s body in the tunnels.”

Shock falls over the room once more, all except for Anna’s little corner, but she’s too deep in her own mind to notice.

…God, I fell in love with you…

She loved him, too.

She loved him so much it was a part of who she was.

She’s so angry she can’t see her own hands.

“He’s dead?” Jo squeaks. “We knew he was sick, that he was getting worse and worse—”

“You don’t understand.” Yoongi interrupts carefully. “We found his bones. We had to get them tested to identify him. We’ve only just gotten the results back. I’m very sorry, girls, but Jeongin appears to have died years ago. He’s been gone for a long time.”

All eyes turn to Anna.

She’s barraged with questions, but she doesn’t hear any of them.

Yoongi quiets the room. “It’s likely that the trauma of being held captive, isolated, tortured, and then losing his little brother caused Han to have experienced a kind of psychological regression. He likely believed Jeongin was still alive because he couldn’t cope with the truth.”

The girls around Anna seem to crumble under the weight of the information.

She wonders if it was ever true, or if Jeongin was always one of Han’s lies for sympathy.

She wonders how much he used the little brother story on Heather and Jackie before he killed them.

…they fell so hard, so fast…

Had he kissed them before he poisoned them, too?

Had he told them he loved them?

Anna blinks away tears and tries to escape Seungmin’s pitying gaze, focusing instead on the roses on her side table, a pretty bouquet wrapped in gray ribbon.

How many girls had he betrayed and poisoned?

What kind of deal had he made with Cain?

How many girls was he allowed to poach from Cain’s test subjects?

How had they worked out their methods—that Cain did the torturing and stabbing, and Han did the manipulating and poisoning?

Anna’s eyes fall to the gray ribbon.

There’s something about the texture of it that she can’t stop staring at.

…one of Cain’s signatures…

Wasn’t that what Yoongi had said?

Han’s cause of death was one of Cain’s signatures.

The familiar texture and color of the ribbon suddenly clicks in Anna’s mind and her heart drops.

“How did Han die?” She hears herself ask, and all the other voices in the room go quiet.

Yoongi gives her his full attention. “Ingested cyanide. Like Heather and Jackie and some of Cain’s older victims. Like you.” When she says nothing, only turning deathly pale, Yoongi goes on. “There was cyanide mixed into some of the water pitchers in the tunnels. Cain probably gave you water to drink; you wouldn’t have known what hit you until it was too late.”

Anna can’t meet his eyes.

She’s staring at those flowers, knowing that Cain wasn’t the one who gave her that water, that Cain wasn’t the one who killed Heather or Jackie.

She’s staring at the roses, ignoring Seungmin’s comforting words, knowing that Cain didn’t have multiple signatures.

She’s staring at those flowers that were delivered just this morning, and at that familiar piece of gray cloth.

Of course she would recognize it, after seeing it nearly every day for a year.

Beautiful, blood red roses bound by a strip of Han’s gray sweater.

tag list : @mysterysold

[akindredskillet]

Making a Home 🌻

I’ve been thinking about this ever since I put this caption together, so why not! Omori queer analysis time.

Now, most analysis of Omori subtext comes from the Headspace sections, and understandably so! Since it takes place in Sunny’s mind, nearly anything can be read into, because everything must serve some function within the world. Within Faraway Town — not so much! Sunny doesn’t seem to have much agency.

Except… That’s not exactly true, is it? There are over twenty sidequests, and therefore at least twenty ways Sunny makes a difference in Faraway Town before moving away, to lesser or greater extents. This can be seen most readily in Universally Loved runs, when he wakes up in his hospital room brimming with flowers from those he’s helped along the way:

Today I want to talk about the Picking Paint and Cooking sidequests. The detail that first brought this to my attention was the wallpaper selection.

It begins on 3 Days Left in Fix-It, where a newly-wed couple is struggling to choose a paint color for their new house, insisting the other one choose. It’s very cutesy and over-the-top, with custom animations showing them blowing kisses to each other.

Eventually, Sean & Karen ask Sunny to choose a paint swatch randomly, and he does so with his eyes closed, but ends up accidentally choosing a floral wallpaper sample instead.

When you visit them later, they actually have the wallpaper up throughout the entirety of the house, which is in the pink swatch, one of two on showcase in Fix-it. The other is… you guessed it! The wallpaper from Basil’s house.

If you go outside into the garden area directly after this, you’ll also be able to see Basil as a memory vision, as well as the flower Sean & Karen gift to Sunny should we finish this sidequest.

(Note: Despite my best efforts, I couldn't determine exactly what kind of flower this was meant to depict, if anything specific).

As you may guess, my proposal here is that even with his eyes closed, Sunny has an instinctual draw to Basil, and things Basil likes. I don’t mean this in a literal psychic sense, but in more of a symbolic way — perhaps even implying that Sunny understands his feelings better on a subconscious level, when he’s not actively looking at them.

Now this is somewhat shoddy evidence on its own, so let’s keep digging.

The reason this stuck out to me is because flowers are usually mentioned in Omori in tandem with Basil. So much so Basil & Flowers might as well be synonymous (and according to the names of the beta characters, once were!)

Obviously, Basil is associated with his flower garden in Headspace, and particularly Stranger's line comparing Sunny to white tulips on the path to Basil's house is often interpreted as having romantic undertones. There's even other official art based off of this line, where if you look very closely at the base of the tulip, it reads: "143. I love you, I love you, I love you".

But even within the main cast's dialogue, flowers are mentioned about 50 times, with 65% of these mentions being spoken by or related to Basil in some way. Many of Mari’s are about the flower puzzle sidequest – which is arguably also related to Basil, as it is initiated by a character named Daisy, and the only Headspace sidequest you can activate while Basil is in your party (not my original observation: read more about that here!)

The majority of Hero’s mentions are about buying flowers for his mother in the main plot. Disregarding these exceptions, it brings the Basil-flower correlation up to 95%!

Sean & Karen then invite us to their housewarming party. They explain they have recently moved in together, but that both of them are from Faraway Town.

We know this to be true, because this pair actually has Headspace counterparts, implying Sunny would have known them from years before.

Enter: Shawn & Ren!

Similar to Daisy, you can find these two at the playground, and they’re some of the only Headspace NPCs you can interact with while Basil is still in your party.

Throughout the game, they are always found next to each other, and they are even some of the only characters in the game to have a shared dialogue box. It’s not just Shawn and Ren, it’s Shawn and Ren.

Clearly, these two have always been close enough in real life for Sunny to make this observation and consider them a matching pair, even though they’re only now moving in together nearly four years later. In my interpretation, I consider them childhood sweethearts.

Coincidentally, they also give Omori the Observe skill. This skill is granted after laying down to stargaze with them. Recently, an acquaintance of mine mentioned they thought these two had similarities to the legend of Tanabata, or Star Festival. The story of Tanabata is about a pair of star-crossed lovers — a Weaver Princess and a Cow Herder.

Ren doesn’t seem to have much in common physically with the Weaver Princess, other than wearing a Japanese-inspired outfit similar to Mari’s, but Shawn distinctly has horns and ears attached to the sides of his head. While the wiki lists these as goat features, I think they’re much more reminiscent of a cow, with horns that grow out in a crescent shape rather than curving straight up and back.

There’s not much else to go off of, but considering Omori notably uses other Japanese folklore as inspiration for Headspace characters, it’s also not an impossible stretch. We don’t know why Shawn and Ren might have been considered star-crossed (or perhaps that’s a romantic daydream Sunny came up with himself!), but there are very notable reasons Sunny & Basil might be, including being the same sex in a small town in the 1990’s, and the complexities of their history together.

Shawn & Ren can also be found in the lobby area of the Last Resort. They’re noticeably on screen during the sequence in which Aubrey and Kel create the Bad Drawing of Basil in an attempt to continue the search for him.

That’s the last of Shawn & Ren’s appearances in the final release of Omori, but it’s also worth noting that these characters existed even in the early concept art of Headspace:

This shows to me that they have significance beyond the "random NPC made to fill out Headspace". In the 2018 Demo, there also existed sprites of Shawn & Ren that didn’t make it into the final game:

Notably, they’re depicted holding a jump rope between them. Presumably, this was removed to censor certain allusions to The Truth too early, similar to the Noose Room being removed, or the first half of Basil’s VHS tape, etc. The jump rope here is purple, like all of the jump ropes in the final game, probably to not stick out against the Headspace landscape. However, the jump rope in early Omori art was bright red:

We know that Sunny & Basil are described as being “tied together by a string of fate”. Of course, the true “string”, or I should say “rope”, that ties them together is The Truth, as they are the only two who know, and are irreparably changed because of it.

The “red string of fate” comes from Chinese mythology and typically describes soulmates. I’m certainly not the first to make the connection between the jump rope and the red string of fate, as lots of popular fanart can attest to.

But wait — are they star-crossed lovers then, or are they soulmates? Aren’t these two concepts opposites? One describes a couple who is destined to be true to each other for eternity, and one describes a couple whose future together has been impeded by the stars themselves.

Well, I submit my theory: Sunny & Basil are star-crossed soulmates. They can’t exist without each other, because they’re the only two in the world who truly understand each other, but they can’t exist together, because of the traumatic and delicate nature of their history.

Finally, we come back to Faraway Town and the second sidequest involving Sean & Karen. We show up to their homecoming party a little earlier than invited on One Day Left, and now we have Hero and Aubrey tagging along. (I definitely recommend this sidequest if you haven’t done it yourself already, as it is very heartfelt!)

In the cooking portion, the four of them all divvy up tasks like they presumably used to when they were friends — except one of the group is missing. Well… two actually. And seeing them all back together like this, Basil’s absence is even more apparent:

Later in the evening, we return for the party, and Karen welcomes us in:

It’s a housewarming party, so her dialogue requesting we “make ourselves at home” only makes sense here… but there’s someone else who has said this to us before...

In fact, there's someone else who is repeatedly associated with the word “home” in Omori...

The last one even explicitly refers to Basil’s “flowers back at home”, bringing us full circle.

Sean & Karen bought a house together, but until they added the final, floral touch (with Sunny’s help!), it wasn’t a home.

Sunny’s home is wherever Basil is.

In conclusion: Sunny choosing floral wallpaper is an intentional thematic choice, and Sean & Karen’s relationship not only embodies the typical childhood sweethearts love story to contrast Sunny & Basil’s more complex relationship, but also represents the overwhelming affection for Basil that Sunny doesn’t know how to express or even acknowledge.

And also they definitely move in together post-canon.

( visuals from the omori wiki, dialogue dump, & the omori let's play by reallyqueerchristmas )

Hey, you! Could you help us out for a second? Please come here and pick a color sample...

You picked up a floral wallpaper sample 🌸🌻

[deoidesign]

I met the me who made different choices

[sysig]

is this where u take the requests? if not, apologies lol still learning tumblr, I WAS WONDERING IF MY VARGAS RELATED REQUESTOBER REQUEST COULD BE JAKE/NNY? i feel like jake/nny is SO looked past like its actually so cute, they could be doing anything THANK U IF THIS WAS THE WRONG PLACE SORRY MWAH MWAH X

Day 12 - Once you had one hole in your skin, you've had 'em all

[theworldisquietheretooquiet]

In honour of pride month and these all being extremely underrated

[rosesonbreeze]

Perched at the edge of his desk, Anna inspects the surface. Listless hands reaching for the post-it's, yellow and conventional. Well, that won't do. Anna makes a mental note to order him something new. Maybe floral, or neon colored... Or both! But it's not long before he pulls her attention back. "What do you have in there? A puppy?" Anna jokes, because unless he's whipping out new post-it's, she can't imagine what else --

"Keys." A question and a statement, as she sees them shine in the light. Intently, she turns on her seat, eyes widening with every word Aiden says. So often, she's hung off words as the be all, end all of romantic expression. Anna believed in a loud type of love; talkative and affectionate, but never substantiated with action. It's only now, as he lists out every key, that Anna sees how two things can be true at the same time.

"Oh my God, I finally own a pair of keys!" It's her way of saying yes; enthusiastically and without hesitation. Her knee bounces with excitement, hands reaching for the keys with childlike wonder. "I haven't had a place in years!" Certainly not since her career took off the way it did. Her location is ever changing, stints hardly ever reliable, and as much as she loved her parents - moving back home during the "in between" wasn't for her.

"Or a real, adult place. Like, ever." Sure, there were roommates in her early years as a broke model. But never a place like Aiden's, with a real couch and more than one set of plates.

"Yes!" She says, like it isn't obviously stated. Scooting forward on the desk, Anna takes Aiden's hand. Pulling him into her arms, giddy and warm. With her long legs dangling on both sides of his hips, holding him tight. "I will happily send my mail here." Pausing, "Or to London. Oh my God, Aiden!" Anna squeals, light up like a Christmas Tree, shaking his shoulders.

"I'm so, so --" She can't even piece it into words, and rather than trying, she's peppering his lips and cheeks with giddy kisses.

"You gotta put in that work," he replies, sliding his arms and securing her spot. When she nuzzles, he hums, hoping she can hear the beat of his heart. He may not always be the best with verbal expression, and sometimes he wonders if he's physically affectionate enough, but unspoken details have never betrayed his feelings. And on that note: he doesn't know if she notices, but he presses a quiet little kiss on her head. Then, he relaxes. Only for a minute.

"Listen—" He scoots forward, slowly so as to not pinch anything, swiftly before has any doubts. Aiden keeps her in his arms as he stands, then walks toward his desk. "I've never had anyone else here." He lowers her down with the kind of care that one would royalty. Then, when he's sure that she's comfortable where she sits, he lets out a single, sharp breath. "So. I've got... Well. I was—" he suddenly stops. Under his breath, "Maybe I'm crazy."

Aiden reaches for the center drawer and retrieves a small ring with four items dangling from it. Some kind of metal, if the sound is any indication, but he grips it tightly and holds his fist between them.

To preface, "I'm not asking you to move in." He unfurls his hand and reveals the Chelsea Football Club's logo, immortalized on a small, silver circle. A chain extends from the top, which is attached to a ring bearing the rest of the pieces. "Like— if that's not your style. It's cool. I just mean that, you know— I..." Am asking you to move in, basically. He slows down before his chest fully implodes. "You said you've been sending your stuff all over the place. Since you already left half your suitcase in London—" including certain delicates that he made sure to wash carefully, "—I figure maybe..."

But it's true that Anna's done much of the 'pushing' thus far, and maybe it's his turn to pull.

"I want you to be a 'big, undeniable person' in my life too.'” She already is. He’s only making it more official, this way. "One for here," he explains, pinching the plain, silver key, "and one for London." Eyeing the remaining piece unaccounted for, he clarifies, "Two for London. The bar thing gets you into the garage. I know it's not really a problem, but— yeah." He licks his lips, then runs the bottom between his teeth. His eyes flicker between the keys and her eyes. “So?”

[sonknuxadow]

it's so wild to me that people talk like sonic and knuckles just now started acting gay in frontiers or that the sonknux ship only exists because of frontiers theyve been gay this whole TIME you just refused to admit it until now

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

.

[ekingston]

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

PLEASE check my later versions of this post via my main page to make sure you have the latest version of this post before you reblog. All the information I’ve been able to gather is in my reblogs below, and it's frustrating to see the old version getting passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much!

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.