#they already are dumbasses but just that and MORE

[bluem1lls]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a se-mi fic where the reader is really sweet/kind and is apart of Gi-hun's group in the games. So when se-mi starts flirting with her the boys go all big brother/dad mode and start getting protective. I just think it would be funny to see Dae-ho and Jung-bae doing their goofy marines bit, while se-mi is absolutely unimpressed and sassy and the reader is just watching from afar happy that they're all 'getting along'. Thank you and I love your writing <3

✧₊⁺ i'd do it all again

✦ synopsis: she's very willing to flirt with you, even if there's two are always there to try to stop her from doing it!

tw: pure fluff!

authors note: hiiii, its short but its a week update and im DEAD so dhhdhdfh i hope u like it!!! tysm for the request💓💓

-> "fuck" my head hurts from the impact as i open my eyes to see a girl.. on top of me. her eyes widen as she tries to stay still. her arms keep my body trapped underneath her.

"shit- i'm so sorry" she whispers slowly, trying to not get caught by the doll from the game.

as i can hear it say 'green light' once again. she stands up quickly, lending me her hand as we start running. i can see my brother's eyes moving across the entire room trying to find me because he lost me out of his sight. when he does, he lets out a big sigh as he runs to my side, staying still as we hear the 'red light'.

-> once we're get to the finish line, i lay on the floor, exhausted. my eyes try to find the short haired girl. i stare as i see her bent over, trying to catch her breath.

"you're not allowed to leave my side, ever" dae-ho, my brother, grabs my shoulders as i rolled my eyes. "i'm serious."

"i know, i'm sorry. a girl tripped over me."

as we turned around to head to the main room, i see the girl's eyes follow me until we arrive.

-> as we're done voting, my brother, being the social butterfly he is, already got us a group.

i sit besides gi-hun as i stare the surroundings. i can feel my brother's arms around me as i groan. the girl who fell on top of me stares, quickly removing her eyes of me as i find her sight.

-> and i try multiple times to talk with her, but everytime i seem to get somewhat close, she's moving around as i frown. maybe she's awkward after the way we met but, i'm still curious.

-> as the second game begins, we get together until they announce 'group of 5'. their eyes widen as in-ho tries to move aside, i grab him as i shook my head no. i turn to leave as dae-ho grabs my arm, serious.

"there's no way-"

"listen, i'll be fine. i have an idea. i promise i'll be fine."

"no you liste-"

it's too late, because i'm already running to the pierced girl as she stares up and down at me with a smirk. great, finally an excuse to talk to her and i know she can't run away this time.

"you owe me. and i need a group" i said to her as she scoffed in amusement.

"oh? i owe you?"

"you fell on top of me!" i reply as she hums, playing with her lip piercing.

"what's wrong with your boyfriend's team?" she lifts an eyebrow as i stare wide eye. boyfriend???

"that dumbass?!" i point at dae-ho."he's my brother, ew."

her expression turns into a surprised one, quickly returning to her normal one. was that why she was avoiding me this whole time? i chuckled softly as she did too.

"oh- right. sorry. so um, let's go get three more people" she says, turning around as we see the purple hair guy coming in our direction. we both stare at eachother at the same time, smiling.

great.

-> as we pass the second same, i sit with them, waiting nervously for my brother and the group's return. i see them arrive with a smile as i get up to throw myself into his arms as he hugs me tight. i hug every one of them, happy to see them again.

-> as the night comes, i eat my food while chatting with the group until i see a someone in front of me. i lift my gaze to meet her brown eyes.

i lift my eyebrow as i slowly smile. "hi"

"hey.. thought you could use the company" she said with amusement, sitting next to me. "and, you never told me your name.."

as i tell her, she replies with hers. se-mi.

"pretty name for a pretty girl" i chuckle at her poor attempt to flirt as she laughs with me.

i feel arms wrap around me as i turn my head. of course. i roll my eyes as i sigh.

"hello ladies. i'm dae-ho" he says (to se-mi, mostly) with a serious expression as she stares unfazed and gives him a head nod. "her brother, but you probably guessed since we have the same 'pretty face', like you said." he tells her, trying to put his most 'older brother' face as i elbow him on the ribs.

"get out, oh my god you're so annoying" i said removing myself from his grip as he stares, offended.

"i'm trying to look after my little sister! you can't date someone from this game"

"we're not dating! leave!" i whisper/shout at him as he stares like a puppy while i push him out.

"i was in the marine, by the way!" he tells to her, turning around one last time as she smirks.

i sit again besides her as i huffed. she smiles, amused.

"so that was.. interesting" she plays with her lip piercing, the smirk never leaving her lips. i nod as i stare away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "does that mean every time i'll try to talk to you, you'll have a bodyguard?" she chuckles as i nod, embarrassed.

"i mean.. probably"

she hums as her gaze meets my eyes.

"i can do that."

and she means it.

-> and as the days go by, we become closer and closer. hugging eachother everytime we see the other one survived the game, teaming together and staying all night talking.

and she's so pretty, that it doesn't feel surprising when she's making me blush from staring too much, or when i get butterflies everytime she whispers sweet things to me because she knows i love it.

-> and after one specific hard game, i realize i wanna spend every little minute with her. too scared to loose her, i'm asking her to bring her mattress besides mine. as i'm helping her to move it, i can see two people standing in front of us, staring to see what we're doing.

"are you two sleeping together? i don't think thats a good idea." jung-bae says as my eyes widen. "you look like a good young girl, but we can't trust too much" he says to se-mi as this one stares and gives him a soft chuckle.

"that's true. sleeping together is a step too far. are you two dating?" my brother nods at jung-bae's words as i cover my face in embarrassment.

"not yet" she smirks at my brother as his eyes widen.

"can you two just... shush away?" i murmur to them, staring at both.

they look at each other as i move them softly aside.

"i can't believe the disrespect we face. from two young girls" jung-bae says as dae-ho nods.

-> and as the night comes, we lay side to side while talking.

"i really like this.. spending time with you" she says, making me smile. i feel her cold hands with the rings cup my face as i stare at her. "do you think your brother's awake?"

my expression turns into confusion. "um.. no? i don't think so?"

"good" she mumbles against my lips as she kisses me. i let out a soft moan in surprise as i melt into the kiss.

"i knew you weren't a good girl!" my brother jumps from the bed, his finger pointing to se-mi, making us break from the kiss to stare him.

"oh my god where you spying this whole time? you're a fucking-"

"hey careful!" he says, his finger now pointing at me. "now. if you want my sister, i will make your life a living hell" he warns se-mi as she lifts her arms, smiling.

"she's worth it" she says as we both stare at her.

-> and he means it. because even when we leave the game after voting 'x', she warns me many times i'm not allowed to disappear now that she's attached. not like i was going to. but wherever i go, he's also always there too.

and all the guys are also there. even gi-hun, jung-bae and in-ho, warning her every step of the way, as me and jun-hee chuckle. and se-mi starts loving them too, because she's sure she won't be able to get rid of them (she tried!)

with our poor relationship with our father, jung-bae ends up turning into more of a father figure to us, being the one supporting my brother through everything, but also being there for me everyday.

and with time (a lot of family dinners we have together) they start to soften up for her.

-> so it's not a surprise when a few years later, at our wedding, she takes a video of how our life together has been and a video of my brother and jung-bae shows up.

"are you- are you asking us for our blessing?" dae-ho sobs as jung-bae seems to be suppressing his tears. i can hear her laugh, although i can't see her because she was the one recording the video.

"i don't think i would be able to go through it if i didn't" she says, softly.

they're both crying now as they hug her.

"i knew you were the one!" jung-bae says, sobbing like a baby while she laughs.

"we knew it! that's why we went easy on you!" dae-ho says, wiping away his tears.

"yeah, i figured" se-mi says, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

i turn to the side to hug her while i kiss her, laughing as dae-ho and jung-bae stare at the video, blushing red.

"we agreed that was a secret!" jung-bae says, embarrassed as gi-hun hugs him with a chuckle.

"that's-that an edition. se-mi! you said you wouldn't play that" dae-ho says to her as she shrugs.

i cup her face on my hands as she laughs. her gaze meets mine. "i love you so much." my stare filled with love like the first day i met her.

"mh, i love you so much too. happy family, happy wife and happy life right?"

[mattysketchup]

NIGHT OUT

pairing… dealer!chris x girly!reader

summary… when chris’ client couldn’t give him his money, he rages like hell and all he needs is his girl.

warnings… slight cat calling, chris raging, mentions of drugs, girly!reader being a little whiny, unprotected p in v (don’t do this !!)

sorry this took so long !! i suck at writing smut bare with me lmao, enjoy !!

blessings and riches, tessa

(masterlist) (more dealer!chris x girly!reader)

“chris, c’mon can we please go already?” you whined for what seemed like the millionth time.

chris took you to a party and after hours of standing around sweaty, drunk, horny bodies, he still wants to finish a few more deals.

“ma, i jus’ gotta finish this deal then get some money from this kid i supplied to last week” chris tells you.

you sigh as a pout forms on your face, your legs getting tired and makeup starting to melt.

you see chris finally hand his guy the drugs and get his money back, but instead of walking away to go to his other guy, he just kept talking.

you sigh louder and roll your eyes, grabbing a couple stares from random guys.

chris wraps his arm around your crossed arms, and you lean against him.

“yeah, you want some more shit? i got it in the back, it’ll run y’bout six fifty though” chris says to the men in front of him.

you roll your eyes. another deal?

apparently, the men noticed your tiredness and annoyance.

“oh, what’s wrong with you sweetie? y’don’t like drugs?” a guy says.

“‘kay, shut the fuck up bastard. you’re gonna need to check yourself before you start calling my girl ‘sweetie’ dumbass.” chris explains angrily.

the guy nods and looks at the floor. “oh yeah, ya’ prices jus’ went up to two thousand. fuck off” he pulls you away and turns to the exit.

“can we go now?” you whine.

“nah, i gotta get my money from this fucker downtown” chris tells you.

you throw your head back in annoyance and grumble. you attempt to be quiet, but it catches chris’ attention.

“y’fuckin’ whining right now?” he asks, as if it wasn’t obvious for the last hour.

“yes chris, i am. i’m fucking tired and i don’t wanna be running around all night with sketchy men! you said this would only take an hour chris, its been five” you blurt out, your anger getting the best of you.

“i spent the whole fuckin’ day at the mall with your shit so don’t get me started kid” he says.

you grumble in protest which doesn’t go unnoticed by chris.

“kid, c’mon we jus’ gotta drive like twenty minutes, pick up some shit and go home” chris explains. “and maybe when we’re home, we’ll have some fun, yeah?”

you nod as you both get in his car, still mad at how long this was taking.

“y’want some music?” chris asks, trying to get you to actually use your words.

you shrug at the question, to which chris sighs and plays kid cudi.

the both of you get to the house where chris needed to get his money, exiting the car and walking in.

“chris wassup” a guy says, dapping him up.

“yo charlie, i need that money from when i supplied to you last week” chris says bluntly.

“oh- oh shit the money?” charlie asks. at this point, chris was already frustrated and wanted to go home himself.

“yes dumbass the money.” he replies coldly.

“y-yeah i’ll get that for y’right now” charlie seemed to be already shaking, obvious he didn’t have chris’ money.

he hands chris a stack of money from his drawer. chris counts it all, making sure this guy wasn’t trying to get by short.

“y’four hundred dollars off.” chris says. you already know how this was gonna play out.

chris would ask him about it, beat his ass up, probably pat him down for more money, get pissed, and leave.

you were too tired to watch all of that happen and just wanted to sleep, so you try to get chris to calm down.

“chris he doesn’t have your money, can we just go home and you’ll get it tomorrow?” you whisper to him.

“yea i know he doesn’t have all my fuckin’ money.” chris spits. he’s still holding your hand, yet inching closer to charlie.

“chris please, can we go home? ask him about it tomorrow” you whine, annoyance shining through your voice.

“nah, ‘cus then he’ll think it’s okay to do shit like this” chris says. charlie was still in the room, yet he was talking about him like he wasn’t.

“chris. let’s go, ask him about it tomorrow.” you say with a death glare. your words are strong, hoping to convince the stubborn boy in front of you.

“ah, for fucks sakes” chris yells, grabbing charlie by his collar. “you better have the rest of my fucking money by the weekend or i will fucking kill you, got that?”

charlie nods, frightened. chris grabs your arm and pulls you out the door.

you’re both quiet once you enter the car, not knowing what to say.

“who even was that guy?” you finally speak up. “like an old friend? i-i was just wondering because you never supply to random people”

“yeah, he was a friend. but he’s a liar and a dickhead who can’t get anything on time for shit” chris grumbles.

he was being really moody, to which you let out a small sigh.

“i-i don’t know why i got that angry back there, i mean we’re pretty close friends” chris says. “i jus’… get so angry, y’know?”

you nod at his words and grab at his hand, holding it. he reciprocates the gesture, holding you as if you were a fragile piece of glass.

“y’wanna do anythin’ tonight? movie? snacks? chill?” he asks you, sliding his hand up your thigh.

his fingers are practically touching your panties underneath your skirt, causing you to get noticeably aroused.

“shit chris, what has gotten into you?” you giggle.

“i jus’ need my girl” he says, eyes on the road.

“we’re almost home, contain yourself for like two minutes chris” you laugh.

once you get home, chris practically runs into his room. “bed. now.” he commands, unbuckling his belt.

your clothes are now discarded on the floor as chris leans over top of you.

“f-fuck chris… please” you beg, your arousal dripping between your legs.

“it’s okay ma, i got you” he responds, lining his tip up to your entrance.

he slowly pushes his length into you, inch by inch. your jaw drops slack as he does so, chris smiles at your face.

“fuck… y’like that mama?” he asks, slowly pumping in and out of you.

“oh fuck… yes chris please” you mewl, your back practically arching off the bed.

he continues the motion, his speed gradually increasing as you both moan in pleasure.

“shit ma, m’gonna fuckin’ cum” chris groans, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

“chris... fuck-m’close” you warn.

suddenly, you feel spurts of cum entering you, both you and chris letting out shameless moans.

“fuck baby… did so well f’me” chris whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

he cleans you up and both of you get dressed. he collapses on top of your chest, cuddling close up to you.

tessa’s notes… thank u sm for reading !! this is ass but idgaf im tired

taglist… @emely9274 @baileysturns @sllutty-sturniolo

comment to be added or removed from the taglist !!

[immortalmrwavell]

More Like A Real Man

(Original story posted September 8th 2022) This story has been significantly Updated!

A rare Gay to Straight themed story from me here so if that’s your thing then I hope you enjoy! 😜

“Finally I’m starting to look less like a nerdy piece of shit and more like a real fuckin man.” Henry smirked as he checked himself out in the selfie camera. At last he was starting to see the results of his labour. His body was finally starting to take shape. All the new muscle he’d been able to pack on made him a far cry from the stick figure of a man he was before. “Next thing will be to get some contacts so I don’t have to wear these dumbass glasses half the fuckin time.” He scoffed.

———

This all started over 6 months ago Henry was practically the picture of a skinny booknerd. With his frail body, glasses that framed his average face and clear lack of fashion sense. He was intelligent for sure, easily making it into one of the most advanced courses at his local college, but that only made him less popular when it came to the jocks. Henry was everything they weren’t. And most of all he was gay which didn’t help his reputation with the jock either.

Despite this, one day Henry found himself sneaking into Coach Kent’s office. The Coach had been in charge of the college’s football team and physical education courses for quite some time now. However, news had recently spread about Coach Kent deciding to leave. Saying something about a “Change of scenery”. And so this day was said to be his last day at the local college. Of course Henry, being the meek gay nerd that was, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see if the coach had left anything behind for him to steal. After all, he'd had a secret crush on the older burly man ever since he started going to this college.

He’d hoped to find maybe an old shirt or pair of shoes. Anything Henry could use to remember the Dilf that was Coach Kent in his own perverted way. What he didn’t expect to find was one of the coach’s jockstraps!?! He couldn’t believe the coach had left it behind but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. The nerd swiped it up without a second thought, giving it a good long sniff before shoving it into his bag.

Henry made another sweep of the office to see if there was anything else worth grabbing. He grabbed an old blue cap that had been left hanging on the door along with a pair of football socks remembered seeing Coach Kent wear a few times before. He was already imagining how hot the cosplay was going to be as he quietly slipped out of the office. Knowing he was gonna nut in that jockstrap as soon as he got home had him struggling to hide his boner.

Once in the comfort and privacy of his bedroom, Henry tossed his bag on the bed and immediately stripped down. He pulled out the worn jockstrap before pressing it to his nose yet again, loving the strong masculine scent left behind by Coach Kent. All the while thinking back on all the fantasies he’d had of worshipping the hot older man.

Eventually however he was able to pull jockstrap away from his face long enough to start putting it on. Sliding up over his lanky legs until the pouch pulled over his moderate cock and balls and the straps came up just below his flat butt. As expected it was far too big for him. So much so that it wouldn’t stay on properly without Henry holding it in place. But it was still super hot nonetheless. Causing his already stiff cock to pulse even harder with excitement as he used his free hand to jerk it.

He was already thinking of grabbing Coach Kent’s socks and cap to wear too… until a strange dizziness washed over him. He could hardly explain it as he started to lose what little strength he had before collapsing on the bed behind him. It was like his consciousness was being squashed down from the inside. That was the only way to explain it. But it wouldn’t matter as he soon faded from consciousness.

———

“Fuck sake! Why did this skinny nerd faggot have to find it first.” Henry shouted in frustration as he looked down and his scrawny body in disgust. Pawing at his non existent biceps and flat chest. Only it wasn’t Henry anymore. “I was sure I told one of the faggy jocks to check my office after I left!” Even his own voice was pissing him off now. Completely lacking any kind of real masculinity or power behind it.

Henry didn’t know it at the time but the jockstrap he’d stolen actually had Coach Kent’s very soul embedded into it. It was part of a sacred ritual that would allow him to take over the body of whomever wore the jockstrap. His plan had been to trick one of the younger closeted gay Jocks into taking it and putting it on but clearly things didn’t go exactly to plan. “I can’t do that fucking ritual for at least another ten years!” The coach vented in frustration.

The body snatcher looked himself up and down in the nearest mirror he could find. “Jesus Christ. I’ve seen chicks that don’t even work out with bigger muscles than this…” When he’d put his soul into that jockstrap he’d hoped to find himself in a new body that was young and strong. One that had potential to become a great athlete some day. Unfortunately Henry met only one part of that criteria. He might’ve been young but his physique was laughable at best. It was practically just skin and bone. And now that’s exactly what Coach Kent was stuck with. “Why did this pathetic little shit have to ruin everything…” He grumbled while gritting his teeth.

It was tough for him to adjust at first. Kent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this puny but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was stuck in this imp’s body for the foreseeable future as infuriating as it was. However he had no plans looking like a thing for the next ten years so he did the only thing he could do to fix this fuck up. He got Henry’s skinny ass body into the gym.

It was embarrassingly tough at first for the once manly and imposing coach. Only being able to lift some of the smallest weights and having to set the machines he used to a light load. But despite that he pushed this pathetic worm’s body as far as it could go. He combined his efforts with a well thought out meal plan that he stuck to religiously over the next couple of months. It took some time but eventually he began to see some results in muscle gains that made him slightly less disgusted by his own reflection.

Those weren’t the only changes Kent had been making to Henry’s life however. In this time Henry’s friends had noticed a very sudden shift in his behaviour. He used to be a kind and timid guy that loved to talk about nerdy things with them. Yet one day he suddenly began acting crude, boisterous and talking like an absolute gym rat. Just like the dudes that would bully their friend group. In less than a week Kent had already cut ties with them after he started acting like a complete douchebag and calling them all a bunch of homophobic slurs. He didn’t want to be friends with a bunch of geeky homo’s anyway. Henry might’ve been a fag but Kent was as straight as a fuckin arrow!

Speaking of, it didn’t take long for him to have his straight orgasm. On the very first evening of being inside his new body, the coach first opened Henry’s laptop to find tabs upon tabs of gay porn open and in bookmarks. He was disgusted by it and was even more disgusted when his body reacted and got a semi for it. “Fucking faggot body…” He muttered to himself before swiftly deleting all the gay porn tabs with a strong grimace.

“Time to fix this broken dick.” He smirked before clicking on the search bar and pulling up the hottest straight porn he could find. It didn’t take long for Kent to find countless incredible videos of beautiful big breasted bimbo’s shaking their tits and fingering their wet pussies. Their feminine moans were like music to his ears. He glanced down at his cock as he started jerking it. “See? This is what you’re supposed to get excited about.” He said seemingly to no one but his own stolen dick as he returned his attention to the hot chicks on the screen. “Tits and pussy.”

The first few times he jacked off he found it tough to get fully hard due to his current body’s innate gay urges. Thankfully it got easier with each load he busted to the sight of huge tits. Almost like he was shooting out this body’s homosexuality in small doses with each orgasm. This of course only spurred Kent on more. Jerking off Henry’s once gay dick to the thought and sight of women every single night. After that it wasn’t long before the coach had fully conditioned his new cock to get incredibly hard at the sight of women and only women. He was proud to finally have a straight dick again that craved tits and pussy, like he believed all men should have.

But what happened to the real Henry during all this? Well his soul was cursed to be suppressed and trapped inside his own mind. He could see and hear everything but had zero control over what Coach Kent did and said with his body. Kent was in the driver's seat permanently. Henry tried to fight it but there was nothing he could do. Only being able to watch and feel as Kent forced him to workout and be an asshole to his friends. Forced to be a spectator as Kent redecorated his bedroom by ripping down the Star Wars posters in favour of putting up posters of footballers and women in skimpy bikinis. The Coach even went as far as to sell Henry’s comic collection and figures to make money and room for some new weights and home exercise equipment.

“Maybe I can make something outta this shitty body and life after all.” Kent would comment, looking at all the changes he’d made for the better so far. He still had a long way to go if he wanted to transform Henry’s life into the alpha male jock life he’d wanted to relive but it was a good start.

———

Jumping back to the present, Kent had finally gotten his new body into pretty decent shape with some good muscle and size showing. He managed to fill out most of the clothes that’d been baggy on Henry before and some he’d even had to trade for a size larger. His biceps were showing at last and his pecs were starting to come in nicely. Henry's once skinny legs were now looking a fair bit meatier. Not to mention his back and shoulders looking noticeably broader, giving him a far more masculine build. Naturally he still wanted to get much bigger but at least now he felt as though he could look in the mirror and see a real man staring back at him.

In this time he’d even signed up to the college football team at the start of the academic year where he was able to make some new bro friends. Though it a little strange for a couple reasons. One being that most of his new bros were players that he used to Coach before the takeover. The other reason being that most of them also used to bully the old Henry and make fun of him and his former queer friends. That said they gave Kent a hard time at first. Not that Kent minded. If anything he was glad that the young jocks he used to coach weren’t going easy on someone they believed to be a worthless faggot. It showed that he’d done a good job at raising them to be real men as well. And it also meant that he’d have to prove himself to them.

The attitudes of the other jocks began to turn around sooner than he expected. Mostly thanks to seeing the sudden shift in Henry’s attitude to become a jock like them. It wasn’t long before they started to admit how they were actually pretty impressed by the gains he’d made and that he was maybe cooler than they’d originally given him credit for. Especially now that he’d stopped hanging around those losers he was with before. What had earned their respect the most however was how well Kent played on the field with them during practice. By all accounts Henry should’ve been a complete amateur but with Kent in the driver's seat he had decades worth of experience that allowed him to keep pace with the other jocks.

Once again through it all the real Henry was helpless as he watched himself be transformed into even more of a typical straight jock with everyday that passed. Being forced to watch himself become ‘bros’ with the other jocks that he detested. Fist bumping and bro hugging them whenever he saw them whether it be at the gym, football practice or elsewhere on campus. He’d even been forced to use the same kind of dumb brotalk that all the jocks used. And of course joining in alongside them as they hurled homophobic insults towards the types of people he’d have been great friends with before. It was torturous!

The most torturous part for Henry however was the way Kent saw Women. He constantly found himself disgusted at the way Kent used his voice to talk about ‘hot chicks’ to his new bros. Describing how fat their tits and asses were to them and how he’d wanted to bend them over rail their tight pussies. Henry was disgusted at hearing the words leave his mouth. He would never have agreed with objectifying women like this. Yet now he found himself unwillingly staring at the huge racks of any sexy babes around the campus and feeling his bulge growing at the sight.

Tonight however was the night both Coach Kent had been waiting for and Henry had been dreading. Since getting into much better shape, girls around the campus had begun to take interest in the new, confident jock on the football team. Noticing this, Kent thought it was about time to shoot his shot and landed the number of one of the art students Talia. She had a reputation of being one of the “hottest chicks on campus” so when the other Jocks heard they all crowded around ‘Henry’ while jumping and cheering for him. That certainly boosted Kent’s ego for the first time in a while since taking his new body.

After a couple dates, Talia was finally coming over to Henry’s place for the night and wouldn’t you know it before long the two began pulling off each other's clothes. On the inside Henry was cringing, wanting nothing more than for this to stop and take back control of his body and life. Unfortunately on the outside his cock was rock hard as Kent was busily sucking on Talia’s tits while massaging and fingering her pussy like a pro.

“Oh my godddd…” Talia whined lustfully. “Where’d you learn how to touch a girl like that?” She asked between bated breaths. Going on to imply that no other guy she’d been with had been nearly this good at pleasuring her.

“Dunno.” Kent shrugged with a sly smirk. “Just instinct I guess.” He answered playfully before burying his face between her tits again, of course not revealing that in reality he had many decades worth of experience.

Henry’s protest became more and more frantic as things started to heat up. He was begging for it to stop when Talia wrapped her lips around his cock and began to stop but the only things that left his mouth were the soft grunts that the Coach let out. But when the busty college girl laid herself out on the bed, legs spread eagerly, Henry was reduced to screaming ‘NO! NO! NO!’ Over and over again. But his protests fell on deaf ears as they always did. Completely powerless to stop Kent as he their cock up with Talia’s slick entrance. And for the first time in his life, Henry felt himself plunge his cock deep inside a wet welcoming pussy.

“Fuuuuuuckkkk yeahhhhhhhh…” Kent growled at the familiar feeling. Also enjoying the subtle differences in how it felt fucking with a different cock to his previous one.

Henry tried his best to fight against it. To rebel and protest but nothing worked. He couldn’t even stop himself from moaning internally at the feeling of being inside a pussy. After all he could still feel all the same pleasure as Coach Kent pumped in and out rhythmically while groaning out in Henry’s noticeably deeper voice. The thrusts grew faster and more aggressive as the two changed positions a couple times. It wasn’t until Kent had already fucked Talia so good that she’d orgasms all over his dick that he could feel a load welling up in his balls. Something Henry was terrified about. Yet, a few more powerful thrusts and a long groan later, Henry found himself being forced to do something he never thought he would. Pumping a tight pussy nice full with his thick potent load.

In that moment something changed. The Coach was still in complete control but suddenly the real Henry found his mind linking up to Kent’s. Like the act of breeding a woman had left them both in such bliss, whether the real Henry had wanted it or not, that it allowed them to become truly intertwined. After that Henry found himself in a daze internally as Kent’s very soul weaved itself around Henry’s, corrupting him slowly but surely.

‘Maybe I like pussy after all…’ Henry would soon start to think, oblivious to what was happening to him. ‘Maybe being a football jock isn’t so bad…’ Tye corruption would spread as his old sense of sense began to dwindle. Little did he know that soon his individuality would be wiped without a trace. His consciousness would become like a mirror to Coach Kent’s until Henry was more than happy to go along with anything Kent had them do. Whether that be sports, joining the fraternity and fucking busty bimbo’s left and right.

And after that Henry would be consumed entirely, leaving only Kent and his new body…

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 12 (alt ending 2.3) - Not Heroes

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

Megumi smirked at the men.

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

Nanami’s face fell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More like an anime plotline written on acid.”

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

“What does he mean by deleted?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words landed like a bomb.

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “Stubborn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what?” Haibara pressed.

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

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

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

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

Megumi sighed. “I’ll take the blame.”

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The employees all froze when the door creaked open.

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

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

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

---

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

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

You took the tablet, your eyes scanning the screen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room fell silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room was frozen.

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

“Understood?”

They nodded reluctantly, the smugness drained from their faces.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Greg, please stop simping for terrorists!”

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

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

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

They hesitated but scattered, murmuring among themselves.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megumi was already calling someone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Haibara chuckled. “Terrifying.”

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

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

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

---

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

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

Nanami’s jaw gritted.

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

“Have patience,” Nanami said calmly.

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

In minutes, you were out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It feels like you should leave it alone.”

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

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

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

Megumi’s lips twitched, but he said nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megumi’s brow furrowed. “Does what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “Thought what?”

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

“Haibara,” Megumi said warningly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swatted his hand away, but his words lingered.

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

Too much silence.

Again.

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

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

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

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

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

The door clicked shut behind you before he could finish.

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

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

An ultrasound.

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was that...teasing? 

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

Hiromi scoffed, breaking the moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?” Nanami questioned.

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

Their silence and wide eyes were enough.

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

“Watch closely,” you said, stepping back.

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The chat feature on the News channel exploded with comments:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another pause. The silence deliberate.

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

The chat continued to explode:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Accountability for everyone, not just her husbands.”

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

"Her poly marriage is still weird, though.”

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You couldn’t even watch it for five minutes,” you said, your voice low, the calmness more hurtful than any scream. Your gaze flicked between them, icy.

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

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

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

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “I’m so glad I never told you two where I came from. Maybe you would’ve joined the same mob."

Silence.

They couldn’t meet your gaze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t do this,” he muttered. “I can’t keep pretending we’re the good guys.”

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

“Not yet,” you muttered, smirking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One NPC had the audacity to yell,

“You did well in your last mission.

For a woman!”

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

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

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

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

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

After an hour, your stomach growled.

Loudly.

Oh, no.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You forgot snacks.

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

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

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

God, no. Why?

Why now?

Where was all this devotion before?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first cabinet? Empty.

The second? Also empty.

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

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

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

Finally, your gaze shifted upward to the top shelves.

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

Too close.

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

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

You yanked harder; he didn’t let go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They would immediately suggest a game based on it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next chapter will be out on idk :P

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen

Taglist Open.

[imujings]

you make my dreams hall & oates and seungkwan :)))

what i've got's full stock of thoughts and dreams that scatter then you pull them all together, and how i can't explain

wc <1k. warnings cursing, talk about Growing UpTM. jay’s musings i’m going to rip my hair out this req is so CUTE pls and it fits boo so well :(( also just gives vibes of growing up in love :( also. this is a Formal Apology to everyone who read my bsk birthday angst. please receive it well LOL

“You only got one?”

Seungkwan juts his bottom lip out in a pout when you plop down next to him on the scorching hot patio. The mango Melona you unwrapped inside is already melting, sticking to your fingers with sweet syrupy goodness.

“I only have one, dumbass. Told you this before I went in to get it.”

A cicada buzzes somewhere in the vicinity behind Seungkwan and he yelps, hands flying to your arm for security. You scoff as the cream popsicle almost tumbles off its stick.

“Yah, be careful of where you’re putting your hands, ‘Kwan,” you complain.

The boy mumbles a sorry, slowly releasing your forearm. Even though a heatwave’s currently raging on in your city, there’s a slight pang in your heart at his touch disappearing, like you’ve lost part of him you can’t get back.

To compensate for the loss, you offer him the rest of the Melona, watching in amusement as he side eyes you before taking it in his nimble fingers.

The unbearable high temperatures have left you and your bestfriend bored, to say the least. Air conditioning in your area only worked so well, leaving the two of you having to escape outside as a last resort and hope the breeze was enough to fan your faces. You’re sporting your thinnest tee; Seungkwan his most revealing tank.

You lazily crack a smile at him when he finishes the popsicle without needing to be told twice. Silence swallows you two, not unlike the summer heat—but in contrast, the lull is tolerable. Welcomed, even.

As much as you adored talking about senseless things and the boy next to you adored shaming you for said senseless things, these comfortable moments of quiet were some of your favorites. It was incredibly (albeit surprisingly) easy to relax around Seungkwan. While others might preach that it’s hard to let walls down once built, you aren’t even sure if you laid down a foundation for your bestfriend, letting him into your life like it was second nature.

Sometimes, people squeeze into your life to take up space in the missing cracks that leak emptiness. Other times, they slot in perfectly like the space was personally hand-crafted for them to take up.

You like to think Seungkwan fits the latter description pretty nicely.

The sun beats down mercilessly on your face. You close your eyes, praying to whatever higher up power there is for even a hint of wind.

“How many more times d’ya think we’re gonna get to do this?” Seungkwan suddenly asks.

His question has your eyes fluttering open to look at him. Seungkwan’s hair sticks to his forehead, his cheeks rosy from the humidity. His lips, slightly shiny from ice cream residue, are pursed in thought. The briefest, fleeting idea of swiping the glossiness away with your thumb takes root in your mind.

You dig it up and throw the seedling away.

Your name being said startles you, and you blink hurriedly. “Hm?”

“Were you even listening to me?” Seungkwan whines in exasperation. “You’re such a fake friend.”

“Excuse me, who just shared their last mango Melona with you?”

“That’s besides the point!”

Your laughter is as bright as the beaming sun. Seungkwan’s breath hitches from beside you and you bump his shoulder with a giggle.

“Why’re you asking that like we’re gonna die in the next few days?” you tease. “It’s not like the world is ending or something.”

Your bestfriend hesitates. Inches his fingers closer to yours on the patio. “I mean like, college is starting soon. We’re going to different universities. We won’t have time for each other anymore. How many more moments are we gonna get like this where the only thing we’re worried about is feeling cool?”

“I’m always cool,” you wryly grin. Seungkwan hits your shoulder and you fake a wail.

“You are so childish.”

Ah. There it is. The underlying, nervous chatter in his voice that makes you want to swaddle him in your arms until his breath steadies. Sitting up straighter, you rest your hands in your lap, picking at a scab you had gotten a few days back from wandering in the woods with Seungkwan. A soft hum escapes you.

“I don’t think anything will change,” you reassure solemnly.

You can tell the boy is biting the inside of his cheek from how the side of his face slightly sucks in on itself. “How can you tell?”

“Easy,” you reach over and tap the threaded bracelet Seungkwan wears on his right wrist; it’s woven together with little glass beads that remind you of his eyes in the light. “Does your bracelet break every time you wear it out?”

He looks at you weirdly. You only smile.

“I’m with you, no matter if I’m a little damp from a shower or a little worn out from a harsh outing. It’s like how water is wet and grass is green. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west and I’m your bestfriend.”

You reach over again, this time taking a hold of his hand. He entwines your fingers together with no hesitation.

“I guess you’re right,” Seungkwan swings your hands back and forth to the beat in his head—his fingers are a little clammy from the heat, but you don’t mind. “But bracelets can still be broken if tugged on hard enough.”

His hand slides downwards, taking interest in the matching bracelet that wraps around your own wrist. You grin at him once more.

“Well, they can always be remade, yeah? Who says you can’t create something all over again, as long as you put equal parts effort and love into it?”

The sun’s rays catch the glass beads just right, twinkling like stars, and Seungkwan’s lips twitch upwards into a wide smile.

wanna queue a song?

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Caleb's alive?! What's going on Nika. Someone fill me in on the storyline 😔

Caleb is back after a year of being gone. He's also no longer just a Deepspace Pilot for the DAA he's a Farspace Colonel

MC infiltrates an island in the sky that's known as "Sky Haven" where the DAA is basically the government they run everything up there. MC went there posing as a scout/rookie to investigate an explosion that happened that seemed similar to what happened to her house.

She gets caught (of course) and the colonel (Caleb) takes her to be interrogated and pretty much covers for her during it to get her off the hook so he becomes his "Adjutant" which is like the colonel's right hand. This is so no one in lower ranks and other soldiers won't question her.

While she's in Sky Haven she goes to visit one of the victims who's in the hospital – Mia. Mia is I believe 7 years old and MC runs into Zayne while she's there because this man is in every hospital and medical facility known to man. Mia is a little messed up but she's in a stable condition when MC visits her.

Mia asks if they've found her brother Kevi and unfortunately he's still missing. Mia then gives MC a plushie that has a recording on it of Mia and her brother playing hide n seek and he's hiding in the "secret base". With this information MC goes back to the site where their house is and plays this recording and gets Kevi to come out. He was hiding in some kind of time rift because he has a piece of the "Spatium Aether Core" and the DAA wants to get their hands on this. Mia and Kevi's parents told them to not go with the Farspace soldiers because they can't be trusted so thats why Kevi stayed hidden.

Kevi is in need of medical help though because he's covered in black crystals that will eventually turn him into a monster. MC tells him to stay hidden and conspires with Zayne on how to get him back to Linkon to keep him safe. MC says she'll bring Kevi to him later that night so they can get him out of there. Caleb is a little cray cray though there's some bolts loose in that head.

He catches MC trying to sneak out and he's like "here's some pills to keep you from getting more sick" or something like that I already forgot what he said but he lied about what the pills actually were and since she trusts him (like a dumbass) she takes the pills and lays down to wait for him to leave so she can sneak out after he leaves. (She was caught in the rain the day before this is where we met viper who tried to kill MC and Caleb saved her and threatened Viper to never touch her again also apparently Viper is some kind of science experiment idrk wtf he's supposed to be he's annoying)

He drugged her with sleeping pills.

So she wakes up the next day and finds out the Farspace soldiers found Kevi and have the Spatium Core fragment now. Mia "suddenly" died and her funeral is swiftly taken care of. Kevi is given to "The professor" no we don't know who this man is he's a mysterious character.

MC notices something seems off with Kevi he's not that sad over his sisters death. MC brings these concerns to Caleb and he's basically like "He's a kid they get over stuff faster but i'm here for you MC im always here for you" and damn near shrugs it off like bro thats not regular wtf. Kevi is fixed up crystals removed and has some kind of chip put in his head which controls his mind now. (MC wasn't supposed to know about the chip, but she found out because she secretly visited Kevi and he like damn near started short circuiting)

The DAA is doing some sketchy stuff though. People who've lived in Sky Haven said the farspace soldiers were rarely ever on the ground this long before. It's a recent event that they've started deploying so may soldiers on the ground like this. They've been doing what's known as "Clean Ups" at night. They're killing and disposing of everyone who is turning into monsters. MC found this out because she snuck out (After Caleb locked her in her room lol) to see what they were doing and she injured her knee in the process.

This entire time Caleb is putting on this nice caring front to keep MC calm and safe. If he had it his way he'd lock her up in his home and put a bell on her ass so she can't escape. Caleb is what people thought Sylus would be. Full yandere and MC still trusts him because he's a childhood friend.

Edit: MC is willingly staying with Caleb because she wants to complete her mission and she missed him.

If I missed anything please comment guys im not going back to read through that whole story again that shit was long as hell lowkey.

[ignoringmyexams]

Imagine a jason todd that had been holding back on fighting batman, or any of the batkids for that matter. In fights he uses his guns, and very rarely shows off his true fighting skills. This makes bruce worried that jason is becoming too detached from the people hes fighting, and calls his style of fighting brutal and callous. Because of this he makes jason come back to the cave to test if he still can fight without his guns.

The batkids overhear this conversation (argument) and immediately follow them back to the cave (because no way in hell are they missing this), oddly, damian is suprisingly angry at bruce for basically calling jason lazy, but tim and dick cant figure out why.

Back at the cave, alfred is already annoyed by the fact that bruce dismisses using guns, and the skills that come with that (alfred was agent 007, fight me), and 100% understands that using guns the way that jason uses them requires serious strength (bruce was never in the military, and therefore doesnt have that much experience with using firearms, FIGHT ME)

Anyways, jason and bruce are already on the mats, measuring eachother up. Jason is the same height as bruce, but slightly more bulky. Hes trying to get bruce to step down, and let him go home, he doesnt want to fight.

Bruce takes this as a sign that jason is not as fit as he was before, but in reality jason is worrying that the pit madness will destroy the little control he has over his strength. For some reason he doesnt want everyone to know just how much he is capable of.

Bruce doesn't know this, and like a dumbass (damians words, not mine), decides to charge at the massive tank in front of him with tons of league training. He shoves his entire body at jason, expecting his son to fall back.

Instead he meets a wall of muscle. Up close to jason for the first time in years, he really notices their differences in physique. Jason moves, and he blocks, or tries to, but jason powers through every attempt to block him.

(From the other side of the mats, damian shouts for jason to stop holding back)

Its a testament to the amount of soul searching and healing jason has done the last years, that the pit never bubbles up. His head is cool, a contrast to bruces frustration and anger in the way he always fights. He decides that hes done with holding back to avoid making the others uncomfortable.

Bruce somehow ends on his back, breath knocked out of him, with jason looming over him, not even breaking a sweat.

Jason gathers up his things and walks out of the cave, cool as a cucumber, and is never again asked to prove himself to bruce again (he decides to ignore how bruce looks at him like a science experiment, and how hes pretty sure bruce is trying to figure out how to beat him. Honestly he is flattered that hes considered a big a threat as superman is)

The batkids are left standing in the cave, staring down at their leader who most think is unbeatable, who just got beaten by a 20 year old (he almost looks proud)

Damian is laughing his ass off

Talia is somewhere laughing too probably

Tim realizes just how much jason has been pulling his punches

Dick has just realized that he might not be the one forced to inherit the burden of the cowl anymore (i get that jason would rather gnaw off his arm than take on the cowl, but i think the thing with being batman is that you cant want to be him, you cant enjoy the power it gives)

[wolvertooth]

so im assuming it was implied that during their partnership + team x they didnt show their mutations too much(going off of logans main weapon being a knife), having it still be more of a secret thing due to the time period it took place

pre memory loss logan isnt really written about too much. was he worse? was he the same? did he follow orders to a T? did he hold more control over popping his claws?

i think he still had that desperate urge to fit in and stay in line, more so for his survival, but a lot of the reason his early days with creed worked was bcuz of being given the chance to show his more genuine self. for basically the 1st time in his life.

as much as people talk about how much meeting logan affected creed, finally having someone else experiencing the same as him, creed was already someone mostly embracing those things about himself. sure, they both experienced shame for it, but logan was still deep in the mutant closet. being with creed, he could actually leave it safely for once

even tho they couldnt openly show their mutations at work(logans Work Persona likely being openly against it whenever creed let loose a bit too much), they could have their private moments outside of it where logan could just drop the act and relax. and obviously a lot of their struggles stemmed from creed nagging logan about how much of a hypocrite he was being, but then logan would bite back that creeds always saying how horrible their mutations make them and that its no different from how logan treats them while on a job, and creed would argue that its different being aware what kinda monsters they are while also acknowledging how powerful it makes them, blahblah etc etc theyre both dumbasses just trying figure out their own ways of feeling in control of their curse

[mlb-a-rewrite]

the solution to this shows eternal pining: polyamory.

Chat Noir, Ladybug, Marinette, and Adrien all decide to get into a relationship together and they both feel slightly bad for lying the whole time but they don't fess up because they can't.

And they are so bad at it too like, they are always accidentally confusing details about dates but they are both so focused on keeping their stories straight that neither of them notice. And at some point one of them asks the other if they have gone on dates with their alter ego and in a panic they just agree and make up the most bullshit fake date ever but their relationship is so weird that it works like

Marinette: I'm curious, have you gone on any dates with Adrien?

Chat: UH YEAH OF COURSE I HAVE HE'S A REALLY SWELL DUDE

Marinette: Really what did you guys do?

Chat: WELL HE, UH, HAD NEVER BEEN TO, UH, GERMANY SO I FLEW HIM THERE AND WE DRANK LOTS OF BEER AND ATE LOTS OF PRETZLES

Marinette, surprised:... really?

Chat, getting more nervous: DUH OF COURSE. HE REALLY WANTED TO GO CLUBBING IN BERLIN.

Marinete: you went clubbing???? In Berlin????

Chat: YEP

Marinette: huh, I never knew he liked that kind of thing

Chat, sweating: WELL NOW YOU KNOW.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Eldritch/not-entirely-human Grunkle Stan stories have been eating away at my brain, so I have a silly little concept of Mimic!Stan.

He and his Mystery Shack are both mimics that lure tourists in as a literal "tourist trap" to gather and devour them! Since the house is alive, it raises a few (read: several) child safety concerns that lead to a LOT of rules to be created for Dipper and Mabel to follow when they eventually arrive, such as:

Be careful not to get lost in the winding hallways! The Mystery Shack is bigger on the inside, and you don't want to end up in the wrong areas.

Don't go through randomly appearing doors, they may eat you.

If you think you feel the walls around you breathing and the floor beneath you shifting, no, you don't.

If you think the walls feel a bit damp, you're imagining it.

Watch your fingers around windowsills! You wouldn't want to lose any of them.

Don't linger too long under the doorframes; it may start feeling like they are slowly constricting around you.

[i-will-just-nyom-bi]

Imagine

Charlie and her gang figured out how to send people to heaven and run the hotel for sinners who want redemption for already a few years. Some of the founders went to heaven, some stayed. Demons decide first whether they want redemption or not and after the hotel decides. Let's be honest, redemption can take years.

Charlie is the head of the hotel, along with Alastor (Ya really think he wants redemption? Also the post isn't about him so it doesn't matter whether he has some great plan right now or nah) and, of course, her beloved Vaggie.

Now, Vaggie is a fallen Angel, and after all Heaven is ready to take her back (most of the Executors or whoever they are got sent to hell, some stayed in Heaven but it doesn't matter. She did the right thing and her place is in Heaven) , except she doesn't want to go back.

She pulled the Princess of Hell, y'all . So,2 scenarios take place in my head.

1. Chaggie working with some problematic clients and Vaggie gets killed. After a week she returns and while greeted and scolded by Charlie explains "They didn't let me outta there. And you know I need my pass so I can't do anything serious. I ended up calling the Seraphims a slur so that - don't look at me like that! They wouldn't let me out! Anyway, for the next trip to Heaven, ask Angel or Husk. I ... Can't go there for about 5 years."

2. Chaggie chatting. Suddenly the air around Vaggie glows (I know this isn't how this works but Vaggie's an angel and I just need you to picture it). Vaggie mutters "shit" under her breath and turns to Charlie "Hold up a second my dear I will be back" *glass shatter* *screaming* *Vaggie's back covered with blood* "Oke babe I'm set for about half a year now- oh don't worry it wasn't our client but the drug seller that harassed Angel and us."

Just. Vaggie does bad things to stay in Hell with Charlie, and most of them are small to not anger her girlfriend.

[mrsoharaa]

Have you guys seen those videos of people dressing up as the grinch (typically it would be a relative duh) scaring the children and pretending to steal their gifts? Well, I can totally see Gojos unserious goofy ass doing that to a young Megumi, Tsumiki (and when he invites Suguru and his girls over) the twins. 💀💀💀😭😭

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 768: Doubashi attack!!

Pag 1

1: Orange....

“Less of a hero”? Ah!?

2: Nonsense!!

You've never been a hero to begin with!!

Pag 2

1: Ha..... Hakogaku!!

Even Hakogaku caught up!!

2: Thick.... thick.....

3: A man like this holds the strongest of powers!!

6: I'm thin compared to him!!

That's not true, Oosumi-kun!!

7: Senpai, is he strong?

The Hakogaku member who last year defeated Sohoku's Kaburagi in the first day's sprint is

Pag 3

1: him, Doubashi Masakiyo!!

Buah!!

Pag 4

2: Buah...

So in the end you've decided to run?

3: “Chicken”

Pag 5

1: We're passing by the sign the signals 5km until the sprint line!!

2: Hakone Academy.....!!

3: Ace sprinter, Doubashi!!

Ugh.....

6: We're at “5km left” until the sprint

7: There's not much left

Pag 6

1: It won't take more than “10 minutes”!!

2: So you've come, Doubashi!!

It's “san”!!

San!!

How many times have I told you!!

3: Again!!

Pag 7

1: You want to get revenge against me!!

2: That's how someone who won last year would speak, but you lost against me!!

3: Hahaha, are you being a sore loser?

I'm telling you you're the one who lost!!

4: Whatever, come at me!!

It's not whatever, what are you even thinkin when saying that!!

Are you that self confident

Pag 8

1: We'll definitely win!!

2: Interesting, buah!! I came here to humble you!!

4: Ugh....

He's different.....!! He's much more dangerous now that he's running rather than when I met him this morning in the tent!!

Pag 9

1: Hakone Academy's Doubashi!! He's so overwhelmingly intimidating!!

It's like the pressure of a huge raging bull that has its eyes on you!!

2: Just by looking at me he makes me feel like my hands and feet are restrained

Issa fought against someone like him last year!?

4: No!!

5: Calm down

Steady your breathing

6: Swallow your nerves, Danchiku Ryuuhou!!

Pag 10

1: He moved on his own!!

Everyone is so overpowered by Hakogaku that they're not moving!!

For me, on the contrary

2: It's a chance!!

Nagoya's Komao used the curve and jumped ahead

He plans on going ahead alone!!

Pag 11

3: The sprint line is 5km from here!!

Horse acceleration!!

I think I can aim for a breakaway victory!!

4: That guy has a reputation for running solo!!

Gallop!!

This is bad!!

5: Doubashi has an incredible pressure!? But isn't this kind of things

6: just fears that we create ourselves!?

7: I can keep going like this!!

Doubashi isn't worth fearing!!

Pag 13

1: Where are you going?

3: Uaaaaaaagh

Pag 14

1: I thought I was 200m ahead of him, and yet

2: I could have let you go freely, but if you keep wandering around in front of my eyes like that

3: I can't win comfortably!!

Wa-

Pag 15

1: Hakogaku's Doubashi accelerated in an instant and passed Nagoya!!

Gallop!!

2: Together with Sohoku!!

3: Ah!? “Sohoku”!? Tch!! He reacted at the same time as me...?

4: You're the only one who can react at the same speed as me in this leading pack

Orange!!

Pag 16

2: Chicken!!

Pag 17

2: Orange is still behind!?

3: Did he give an order to this guy?

4: And he still managed to keep up with my speed of reaction!?

6: What, this guy's eyes, this running

Pag 18

1: What happened, your expression has changed!!

So this guy wasn't a chicken!!

2: Sorry, Doubashi-san

We'll take this sprint

3: The two of us!!

Pag 19

1: Garuaagh

2: After stopping Nagoya down, Sohoku number 5 jumped out from there

3: and attacked again!!

Tch

4: Hahaha

I told you!!

Pag 20

1: “We'll definitely win”!!

2: Orange!!

Hahaha, what we're aiming for is to be

3: “Japan's number one”!!

4: I'll make you Japan number two!!

[mechazushi]

Kafka Hibino

Kafka Hibino.... with visible salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka HIbino.... in that black turtleneck and a dark brown leather jacket and also wearing glasses and has salt and pepper side burns.

Kafka Hibino.... wearing that outfit and is an Animal Biology Professor in an College Au.

Kafka Hibino..... asking out Hoshina who is an Advanced Mathematics Professor working at the same college, to have an after-work drink with him.

Slightly DRUNK Kafka Hibino... becoming very forward with an also slightly drunk Hoshina

Slightly Drunk Hoshina... immediately matching Kafka's freak tenfold and Kafka is very much fine with this.

[glitchy-haha]

Listen know the year just started like a day ago and I said that I would try to not rant as much this year but I hope everyone who even remotely uses the terms "Fandom police/Fanpol/Fancop" and "Acab includes fandom police" unironically in 2025 and beyond that please fuck off and block this account one time because I have a lot to say to you bitches and I would personally rather not embrace rage this year

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done