#trying to look online and its been harder than i expected

[shoutsindwarvish]

this is my first elul while practicing. i have ocd AND social anxiety and so feel guilty over nothing (or something way overblown) that manifests in reassurance-seeking, and so engaging in the traditional reflective teshuvah practices of the season is a recipe for spiraling.

my rabbi said i absolutely shouldn’t do it if it’s going to trigger me and try to focus on self-care and on self-improvement in other ways but didn’t give me a lot of concrete alternatives. anyone else in a similar situation? and, if so, do you have any tips?

[seokwrts]

I LIKE ME BETTER | jjk

PART FOUR

summary : After walking in on her boyfriend Sanho cheating, Y/N moves out and ends up living with Jungkook, a cocky yet caring acquaintance she once couldn’t stand. What begins as a tense, passive-aggressive roommates situation slowly transforms into something deeper, as both navigate heartbreak, vulnerability, and emotional healing. Through stormy nights, late-night confessions, domestic routines, and quiet tension, Y/N and Jungkook gradually uncover the warmth and safety they’ve both been missing—especially in each other.

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen just living under the same roof?”

pairing : jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre : roommates , fluff , smut

word count : 4.1k

warnings : Explicit. This story contains sexual content, explicit language, and themes of emotional trauma. Expect a roommates-to-lovers slow burn with intense enemies-to-lovers tension, mutual pining, and eventual smut. Features include domestic intimacy, past cheating, emotional hurt/comfort, and lots of kitchen tension. There’s jealousy, unresolved sexual tension, first times, comfort sex, and characters who are both emotionally guarded and touch-starved.

The tiny bell above the café door chimed as Y/N stepped inside.

It was her first time seeing Maison in person. She’d only glimpsed it online when she was scouring listings for part-time jobs—what caught her attention then was the name. French for “home.” It sounded soft. Safe.

Now, standing in its doorway, the name made perfect sense.

Warm wood interiors, soft amber lighting, shelves lined with potted plants and weathered books. The place felt more like a tucked-away sanctuary than a business. A little dream of a space, far from the cold, impersonal gray of her week.

She hugged her coat tighter around her frame, trying not to shiver. The bitter morning wind had cut through her layers on the walk over. Even now, she could barely feel her fingers.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind the counter. “You must be Y/N.”

She looked up—and forgot how to breathe for a second.

There he was.

Taehyung.

Owner. Late twenties. Ridiculously, almost unfairly handsome. He wore a soft cardigan over a white tee, silver-rimmed glasses perched low on his nose, his dark hair falling slightly over his eyes like it didn’t know how lucky it was to be there.

He stepped out from behind the espresso machine and walked toward her with the kind of easy confidence that wasn’t loud—but magnetic.

“I’m Taehyung. Welcome to Maison.”

He offered his hand, and she took it automatically, her cold fingers brushing against his warm palm.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” he said, smiling like he meant it.

“Same,” she managed.

“First café job?” he asked, tilting his head with a soft curiosity.

She winced. “That obvious?”

He chuckled, his voice low and velvet-smooth. “Let’s just say… you’re holding the milk frother like it’s a fire extinguisher.”

She looked down at her grip on the machine and flushed. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry.” His smile widened. “I’ve trained worse. You’ve got good energy.”

Good energy.

No one had said anything kind to her in days. Maybe longer. It hit her harder than it should’ve.

They got to work quickly. Taehyung’s style of teaching was calm, thoughtful—never rushed, never patronizing. He walked her through each machine step by step, showing her how to grind beans to the right consistency, how to tamp espresso evenly, how to steam milk until it was silky and warm, not scalding.

Unfortunately, she got too comfortable too fast—and thirty minutes later, she burned the side of her hand on the steam wand.

“Shit—!” she hissed, instinctively jerking back.

“Hey, hey,” Taehyung said gently, already moving. “Come with me.”

He guided her behind the counter, not with panic but with quiet assurance. His hand rested lightly on her elbow as he led her to the back sink, turned on the cold water, and held her wrist underneath.

“You okay?” he asked, looking at her, not the burn.

She nodded, even though her throat felt tight. “Yeah. Sorry. Stupid mistake.”

“Not stupid. It happens.”

The water stung her skin, but his presence steadied her more than anything else.

He patted her hand dry with a soft cloth, then pulled a small first-aid kit from the shelf. His fingers moved with practiced ease as he wrapped gauze around the red skin.

“You’ve done this before,” she said, trying to smile.

“Too many times.” He gave her a look—part mock-serious, part teasing. “One guy last month managed to spill hot syrup down the back of his shoe.”

She blinked. “How?”

“He refused to wear non-slip shoes and slipped on a sugar packet. Gravity did the rest.”

Y/N laughed before she could stop herself.

The sound echoed in the quiet backroom—and surprised her.

It was the first time she’d laughed in what felt like days.

Taehyung smiled, pleased. “See? You’ll survive.”

They went back to the floor after that, though he insisted she take a break and let him handle the hot drinks for the rest of the shift. Instead, he walked her through the register system, the bakery display, the regular customer names and their usual orders. It was slower than she expected—weekday mornings, he said, were always quiet.

They stayed an extra hour after closing.

Not because he had to—but because he wanted to make sure she felt comfortable.

He showed her the weird way the front door stuck if you didn’t pull it just right. The extra sugar packets hidden behind the bar. He offered her a drink on the house and insisted she sit while sipping her latte as he cleaned the espresso machine.

And through all of it, he kept talking—not just about the café, but stories. Funny stories. Casual ones. The way a barista once accidentally served a decaf triple espresso. A customer who cried over the wrong croissant and apologized with a handwritten note the next day.

Taehyung’s voice was calm, his laughter soft.

Everything about him was… easy.

And for a while, she let herself enjoy that.

Let herself forget.

But when she stepped out of Maison that evening—warm from coffee and his jacket draped over her shoulders—the thoughts came back, creeping like a shadow under streetlights.

Jungkook.

She hadn’t seen him all day.

He hadn’t texted.

No mention of last night.

No “Are you okay?”

No “What did that kiss mean to you?”

It hurt. More than she’d expected.

She touched her lips unconsciously as she walked.

That kiss had happened. Messy and electric and charged like a live wire. The way he’d grabbed her waist, the way he’d said her name like it broke him open. She could still feel the ghost of his breath against her mouth.

But what followed?

Silence.

Distance.

Like it didn’t count.

Like she didn’t count.

She thought it might’ve been different. She thought maybe—just maybe—he’d feel it too.

But Jungkook was always like that. Loud in silence. All tension and walls. He kissed like he was drowning, then left like he never needed air.

And Taehyung?

Taehyung was warmth.

Clear eyes.

Patient smiles.

He made her feel seen. Steady. Like she was worth slowing down for.

And that difference sat heavy on her chest.

She didn’t know which one hurt more—Jungkook’s silence… or how good it felt to be cared for by someone else.

Maybe both.

Maybe that was the problem.

By the time they locked up, the sky was painted in winter tones—cold blues and sleepy golds bleeding across the horizon like brushstrokes. A soft wind carried the smell of roasted chestnuts from a cart down the street, and for once, Y/N didn’t feel the weight of her day pressing down on her shoulders.

Not entirely, at least.

Taehyung fell into step beside her without needing to ask.

She noticed it after the first block—they hadn’t really stopped walking side by side since she started her shift. Even when she’d burned herself, even when he’d gone to make drinks, even when they cleaned up after closing. There was a quiet sort of rhythm between them already. Unspoken.

“You heading this way?” she asked, adjusting the strap of her bag.

He glanced at her, warm eyes reflecting the streetlights. “I guess we are.”

The chill set in quickly. The kind that crept through your coat and into your bones. Y/N didn’t say anything—she hated being the person who complained about the cold—but she must’ve shivered.

Because, wordlessly, Taehyung shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

It was warm. Lined with something soft. Smelled like cedarwood and clean linen and something just a little sweet—like cinnamon tea.

“Your hands are still red,” he said softly, glancing down at the bandage on her hand. “Let me carry your bag too.”

“You’re making all the other men in the city look bad,” she said, only half joking.

“Good,” he replied with a smile.

She let him take her bag. Normally, she’d argue—but she was tired, and he made it look effortless.

As they walked, their conversation drifted easily—starting with mundane things: favorite pastries, worst customer stories, weird café music playlists.

But then something shifted.

Taehyung turned to her and said, “I always wanted to own a café.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. Since I was sixteen. I’d save every spare coin from tutoring gigs or birthday money. While my friends were buying sneakers, I was researching espresso machines.”

She smiled. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“It was borderline obsessive,” he admitted. “But it came from somewhere real. My grandma ran a tiny tea shop in Daegu. I used to help her after school. Maison’s kind of a tribute to her. And to… I don’t know. A slower kind of life, I guess.”

There was a pause.

Then he added, “What about you? Anyone driving you insane at home?”

Y/N barked out a laugh. “My roommate. He’s infuriating. Arrogant, messy, moody. Thinks his music is god-tier. He’s like a one-man emotional hurricane.”

Taehyung chuckled. “Wow. Sounds like a delight.”

“Oh, he’s a real charmer. Total menace to society. Leaves his socks on the kitchen counter.”

“Socks?”

“Don’t ask.”

Taehyung grinned. “What’s this mystery man’s name?”

She sighed, the name falling from her lips like something sour. “Jungkook. Jeon. Fucking. Jungkook.”

She expected Taehyung to just laugh—but instead, he stopped.

His eyes went wide. “Wait. Jeon Jungkook? Tattoos, bedroom voice, makes beats all night?”

Y/N blinked. “You know him?”

Taehyung burst into laughter. “He’s one of my best friends.”

“No. Way.”

“I’m literally heading to his place right now. He and Jimin are having a little hangout.”

She stopped walking. “You’re the friend he’s having over tonight?”

“You’re the roommate he keeps vaguely grumbling about?” Taehyung raised a brow, still laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Wow. What are the odds?”

They looked at each other, both stunned—and then cracked up, the kind of surprised laughter that bubbled out whether you wanted it to or not.

Y/N shook her head, groaning. “Oh god. That means you know everything.”

“Not everything. He keeps it pretty vague. Just says things like, ‘She’s impossible,’ or ‘Why does she leave Post-its everywhere?’”

“I do not leave them everywhere,” she muttered. “Just in places he forgets to check. Which is everywhere.”

“Sounds like a solid system.”

She glanced at him sideways. “So you’re all close, huh?”

“Yeah. Jimin, Jungkook, and me. We’ve known each other for years. Survived military cuts, bad relationships, and worse haircuts.”

“Interesting,” she said, trying not to let her voice sound defensive. “And what has he told you about me, exactly?”

Taehyung gave her a sideways look. “Honestly? That you’re… complicated. And distracting. But smart. And kind of funny when you’re angry.”

Y/N stared at the sidewalk. “He said that?”

“Not in those exact words,” Taehyung admitted. “But the vibe was there.”

She didn’t say anything. Her throat felt tight for reasons she didn’t want to examine.

“So,” he said gently, “you two don’t get along?”

Y/N hesitated.

How did you explain what Jungkook was?

Not quite a friend. Not really an enemy. Something that lived in the static between words. Something electric and broken and unfinished.

“We do,” she finally said. “And then we don’t. It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?”

She sighed. “He’s… hard to be around.”

“Because he’s intense?”

“Because he’s real. Too real sometimes. Like, one second he’s making dinner in sweatpants, and the next he’s saying something that makes me rethink my whole life. And then five minutes later, he’s gone. Just… shuts down. Disappears into himself.”

Taehyung nodded quietly. “Yeah. That sounds like him.”

“And he’s cocky,” she added. “Always acting like his music is holy scripture.”

Taehyung laughed. “To be fair, the guy’s pretty good.”

Y/N paused, biting the inside of her cheek.

She hated to admit it—but Taehyung wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah,” she said vaguely, eyes on the pavement. “He’s not bad.”

Taehyung glanced sideways. “Do you like his stuff?”

She shrugged, playing with the frayed edge of the bandage on her hand. “I’ve heard worse.”

He laughed, a low, amused sound that made her glance at him warily. “So you do.”

“I didn’t say that,” she snapped, a little too fast. Defensive.

Taehyung grinned. “You didn’t have to.”

She groaned. “He just… knows what he’s doing, okay? He’s good with sound. I’ve accidentally walked in on him mixing and ended up standing there for, like, twenty minutes. But I was zoning out. That doesn’t count.”

“Totally doesn’t count,” Taehyung agreed, his smirk growing. “Completely accidental admiration. No crime there.”

“I’m serious,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Good. Because if you tell him I said even that, I will deny everything. I’ll burn the apartment down just to erase the evidence.”

He held up both hands in mock surrender. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

She gave him a look. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Fine. I’ll pinky swear if you want,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t pinky swear with men I just met.”

“Reasonable policy.”

They walked in silence for a moment. The city buzzed faintly around them—distant car horns, the hum of streetlights warming up, the rhythmic tap of their steps on pavement.

Then Taehyung said, more gently, “You know… for someone you clearly can’t stand, you pay a lot of attention to him.”

Y/N stiffened. “I live with him. It’s hard not to notice things.”

“Right,” Taehyung said, nodding, like he was agreeing but also maybe not.

She added quickly, “And the walls are thin.”

“Ah. That explains the mysterious admiration of basslines at 2 a.m.”

“Exactly.”

He smirked. “And the fact that you know how long one of his songs runs before the bridge?”

She shot him a warning glare. “Are you always this annoying?”

“Only when I sense denial in the air.”

She gave him a shove with her shoulder, light but pointed, and he laughed as he took the hit with exaggerated drama. “You’re worse than Jimin.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said brightly.

They turned a corner. The neighborhood grew quieter. They were close now—she could see the outline of Jungkook’s building peeking through the gaps in the trees.

Y/N slowed a little at the crosswalk. Her voice was quieter this time, almost like it slipped out on its own. “I already told him once… that I liked one of his tracks.”

Taehyung looked over, brows raised.

“It was… a bad night. He got a call from his dad—looked like someone punched the wind out of him. I didn’t know what to say. So I said that. That I liked his song.”

Taehyung nodded slowly, the teasing in his expression fading to something more thoughtful.

“And ever since then,” she continued, softer now, “I haven’t said anything else about his music. I can’t. He’d take it the wrong way. Or the right way. I don’t even know.”

“Maybe it’s not about what he’d take it as,” Taehyung offered gently. “Maybe it’s just that it scared you a little. Saying it.”

Y/N looked at him. “You sound like a therapist.”

“Part-time barista, full-time overthinker,” he said with a wink.

She gave a weak laugh. “He makes it hard, you know? Being mad at him. His music… it’s not what you expect. It’s loud, yeah, but under all that sound, there’s this… grief. This weird tenderness.”

“You heard that?”

She nodded. “I wish I hadn’t. It’s easier not to care when you don’t see the soft parts.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked ahead toward the apartment building, then back at her. “He’s lucky. That you noticed.”

Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag where it sat on his shoulder. The sleeves of his jacket were still wrapped around her, warm and far too big. She let out a long, slow breath.

“I don’t think he sees it that way.”

“Then he’s an idiot.”

She laughed once, quiet and bitter. “Well. That’s not breaking news.”

They reached the intersection near the apartment. The lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across the pavement.

Taehyung’s voice broke the silence again, gentler this time. “He doesn’t know you’ve listened to it. All of it?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t think he even knows I care.”

Taehyung tilted his head. “Why not tell him?”

“Because it’s easier to be mad at someone when you don’t admit you understand them,” she said, and winced as the words left her mouth, too raw, too true. “And I’m still mad.”

“You sure it’s not hurt?”

She hesitated. Her fingers tugged at the frayed edge of the bandage again.

Then: “I’m sure it’s both.”

Taehyung didn’t press. He just walked beside her in quiet solidarity. There was something about him that made silence feel safe, not awkward. Like she didn’t have to fill every pause.

After a beat, he said, “You don’t have to explain anything. Not to me. Not even to him.”

“I know.”

He gave her a small smile. “Still want to go up?”

She looked at the building. Her chest felt tight with something sharp and hard to name. But she nodded.

“Yeah.”

And together, they crossed the street—her in his jacket, him with her bag, and both of them walking straight into the heart of everything she hadn’t figured out how to say.

When they walked in, the living room fell into silence.

Jimin was mid-sentence, drink in hand. Jungkook was standing—still, frozen, bottle clenched.

And his eyes… they were locked on the sight before him.

Y/N. In Taehyung’s jacket. Taehyung. Carrying her bag. Both laughing like they belonged together.

“We had no idea,” Taehyung grinned. “Y/N’s the new part-timer at Maison. This might be the best coincidence I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N smiled politely and excused herself, heading to her room to shower and change. The warmth of the jacket lingered on her skin.

When Y/N disappeared down the hallway, the door to her room clicking shut behind her, a brief silence settled between the three men left in the living room.

Jungkook took a slow sip of his beer, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the darkened TV screen.

Jimin glanced at him but said nothing, leaning back into the couch with a low whistle. “Well. That was something.”

Taehyung flopped into the armchair, kicking his legs up and getting comfortable. “What? The accidental roommate-coworker twist? Or the fact that Y/N somehow makes being covered in espresso grounds look like an aesthetic?”

Jimin smirked. “So she survived her first shift?”

“Barely,” Taehyung said, grinning. “She burned her hand on the steam wand. Apologized to the machine.”

Jimin laughed. “Classic.”

“She’s funny, though,” Taehyung added. “Snarky. Kind of feral about organizing the syrup bottles, which I respect.”

Jungkook didn’t look up, but his grip on the bottle in his hand grew slightly tighter.

“And,” Taehyung continued with a relaxed sigh, “she’s so pretty.”

Jimin lifted his eyebrows. “That was fast.”

“I’m just saying,” Taehyung said, gesturing vaguely with his bottle, “she’s got that kind of energy. You know? Like, I could hand her a broom and suddenly she’s the lead in a rom-com.”

Jimin snorted. “Rom-com barista arc?”

Taehyung nodded like he was considering it seriously. “I even texted you earlier, remember? Told you this part-timer was cute. I thought maybe—hell, maybe it was finally my turn for a proper girlfriend.”

Jimin blinked. “Wait, that was Y/N you were talking about?”

“Yep.” Taehyung grinned. “Small world, right?”

Jungkook stood up, casually, but the beer bottle made a louder-than-necessary clink as he set it down on the counter. His back was to them now, shoulders just slightly tense.

“Dude,” Jimin said, glancing between them. “You’re halfway gone and it’s been one day.”

Taehyung just laughed. “She’s got that effect.”

Before Jungkook could find something neutral to say,

Y/N stepped back into the living room in fresh clothes, hair towel-dried and still slightly damp at the ends. She padded in quietly, unsure of what she’d be walking into.

To her surprise, the tension had mostly dissolved. Taehyung was sprawled sideways across the armchair, animatedly telling Jimin a story with wild hand gestures. Jimin was halfway through a can of beer, grinning as he tried to interrupt.

Jungkook, on the other hand, sat on the far edge of the couch, one leg bouncing restlessly. He didn’t look up when she entered—but he knew. She could feel it in the way his shoulders tensed just slightly. In the way his hand curled tighter around the bottle.

“Shower revive you?” Taehyung asked, flashing her an easy smile.

“Barely,” Y/N said with a soft laugh, settling down at the other end of the couch—far from Jungkook.

Jimin scooted over to make room for her. “You missed Tae’s retelling of the time he spilled soy milk all over a customer and tried to cover it up by saying it was a new kind of latte.”

“Experimental,” Taehyung said proudly. “She didn’t complain. She left, but she didn’t complain.”

Y/N snorted. “Impressive.”

“I’m full of secrets,” he said, grinning.

“Yeah,” Jimin chimed in. “Like how he apparently texted me earlier that he met someone ‘devastatingly cute’ today and thought it might be fate.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait, what?”

Taehyung shot Jimin a mock glare. “You weren’t supposed to say that yet.”

Jimin raised both hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. The beer makes me loose-lipped.”

Y/N looked between them, eyes narrowing. “You were talking about me?”

“Guilty,” Taehyung said sheepishly. “But in my defense, I didn’t know you were Jungkook’s roommate until halfway through our shift.”

Jungkook stood abruptly. “I’m getting more beer.”

He didn’t ask if anyone wanted one. He didn’t look at her.

Y/N’s heart thumped painfully. She kept her expression neutral, but she noticed Jimin watching him with that sharp, quiet understanding only he seemed to carry.

As Jungkook returned and passed out drinks, Taehyung perked up again. “Oh—speaking of fate and cute people. Jimin’s throwing that party this weekend.”

Jimin nodded. “Low-key thing. Friends, music, some dancing, maybe a little chaos.”

Taehyung turned to Y/N. “You should come. I mean, technically you’re one of the crew now.”

She smiled, tucking her feet under her. “Sure. Sounds fun.”

Then Taehyung turned toward Jungkook. “You bringing someone?”

Jungkook didn’t even blink. “Already got a date.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Oh? Anyone we know?”

Jungkook just gave a tight-lipped smile and took a swig of his beer. “Don’t worry about it.”

Y/N glanced at him, something sharp twisting in her chest. A date? Since when?

But she didn’t say anything. Neither did Jimin.

As the conversation shifted toward party plans and who was in charge of the playlist, Y/N tried not to let the weight of Jungkook’s words sit too heavily in her gut.

But it stayed there—quiet and bruising.

And hours later, when Jimin and Taehyung finally said their goodbyes, and the door clicked shut behind them, the silence in the apartment returned like it had been waiting.

She gathered empty bottles to bring to the kitchen, just for something to do.

Behind her, Jungkook’s voice finally broke the stillness.

“You like him?”

She froze.

Then turned, slowly. “What?”

“Taehyung.” His voice was low, careful. “You like him?”

She stared at him. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

She shook her head and walked into the kitchen. “You’re unbelievable.”

He followed. “It’s a simple question.”

“No, it’s not,” she snapped, spinning to face him. “It’s loaded, and you know it.”

His jaw tensed. “He was wearing your bag.”

“I was wearing his jacket. So what?”

He didn’t answer.

She crossed her arms. “You kissed me. Then you left like it meant nothing. Then you stood there tonight acting like I betrayed you for getting a job. And now you’re jealous?”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.”

He looked at her then—really looked at her. And in his eyes was something raw, cracked open.

“I don’t know how to not be,” he admitted.

Her breath caught.

Neither of them moved.

Then, slowly, she said, “You don’t get to be jealous and silent at the same time, Jungkook. Pick one.”

He exhaled shakily. “I didn’t think it would matter this much.”

“But it does.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“And this date of yours? Is that real?”

His silence was answer enough.

She laughed once—bitter, tired. “God, you’re such a coward.”

“I know.”

She looked at him, really looked. At the boy who made beats in the dark and left every light off. Who kissed her like she was the only thing keeping him alive and then walked away like he didn’t want to be.

And it broke something in her chest. Not violently. Quietly.

Like an old song fading out.

“I’m going to bed,” she said softly, walking away.

And Jungkook just stood there, alone in the kitchen—watching her retreat, wishing he could follow but too afraid to move.

hey tumblr besties 🫶💌

guess who’s back with part four of the series? that’s right—meee 😋🤘

i’m so happy y’all enjoyed the last chapter, it seriously means the world. also not gonna lie… i’m kind of obsessed with jimin’s character 😮‍💨 he’s just too good.

from here on out, things are only getting messier—more taehyung swooning over y/n, and jungkook absolutely losing his mind about it 😛

so tell me… do you think we’re heading toward more angst? fluff? or are we diving into full-on spice? 👀 drop your predictions in the comments!

also, i’m still adding people to the taglist, so if you wanna be included, just leave a comment 🫶

as always—reblogs, comments, and virtual kisses keep me going 💋 thank you so much for reading! 🥰

with love,

xo, ario

TAGLIST 🔖

@gyeomibear @dna2723 @lachimolalajeon @yunhoswrldddd @whoa-jo @notsevenwithyou @dmstoyangyang @songbyeonkim

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[theseh00perscanh00p]

Coaching Violation: Part 10

paige x azzi

a/n: I do genuinely apologize in advance...

word count: 3.9k

Sparks Media Day — Two Days Post-All-Star Break

POV: Paige

The media room smelled like old coffee and tension. Paige sat at the center table, shoulders square, lips tight, blazer pressed like she was trying to iron out the heat rising around her. To her left sat the assistant GM. To her right — an empty chair meant for the next player interview.

The season had been strong. 20-6 record. Defense finally clicking. Azzi stepping into her rhythm again. They should be talking about the basketball.

But they weren’t.

They were talking about a fan’s blurry throwback photo that somehow — through the internet’s uncanny ability to detect chemistry at 240p — had become an Exhibit A.

A journalist cleared his throat.

“Coach Bueckers, I wanted to ask about something circulating online—”

Paige didn’t flinch. She’d been coached for this. By PR. By Nika. By her own damn reflection in the bathroom mirror twenty minutes ago.

“Something from All-Star Weekend last year,” the reporter continued. “There’s a photo going around that seems to show you and Fudd… close. There’s speculation you were involved before her trade to L.A. Can you comment on that?”

She smiled. Tight. Measured. PR-safe.

���I don’t comment on speculation or personal matters unrelated to the team.”

Next question.

Another reporter: “There’s also been some chatter about your response to fouls on Fudd during games being more intense than usual. Do you feel you’re able to maintain professional boundaries with your players?”

She stiffened — just barely — but enough that the assistant GM looked over.

“I care about all my players,” Paige said carefully. “Azzi is one of our stars. She takes hits. I react the same way I would for any player putting their body on the line night after night.”

Next question.

A third one. A woman in the front row, tablet balanced on her knee. “Do you think being so young, and recently retired from playing yourself, makes the boundaries harder to maintain? Especially with players you might’ve known previously?”

That one cut deeper.

Because it wasn’t just about Azzi anymore. It was about her competence. Her job. Her authority. Her integrity.

Paige leaned into the mic. Voice steady.

“I may be young, but I take this position seriously. I didn’t come into coaching on a whim. I know what this team means — to the city, the league, the fans. And I know the boundaries expected of me. I hold myself to them.”

The room went quiet for a second too long.

Then the GM stood up, offered a half-smile. “Thanks, everyone. That’s all we have time for today.”

Later that night – Twitter trending bar

#BueckersAndFudd

“Paige’s face when they asked about Azzi said it all.”

“Somebody better hand them an Oscar if this is just a ‘professional’ relationship.”

“Girl was blushing like a high school sophomore caught passing notes.”

Sparks Locker Room – Post-Practice

Azzi’s POV

The laughter in the room had thinned out. Most of the team had already hit the showers or started trickling out toward the parking garage. But Azzi sat still at her locker, towel draped around her neck, fingers idle on the laces of her shoes. Her phone was face down beside her. She didn’t want to check it again — didn’t want to see more tweets, more headlines, more grainy speculations about her private life blasted out for the world to dissect.

Across the room, Rickea pulled her hoodie on slowly, watching her.

“You good?” she asked, tone quieter than usual — not her usual teasing lilt, but something grounded. Intentional.

Azzi didn’t look up. “Not really.”

Rickea didn’t push. Just waited, leaning against the locker beside her.

Azzi finally exhaled, chest heavy with the truth that had been clawing its way up her throat for days. “I feel like I can’t even breathe without it becoming a headline. Like… every glance, every reaction — it’s like they’re watching and waiting for us to mess up. And I’m so tired of pretending.”

She sat back against the bench, staring at the ceiling for a moment like maybe if she didn’t look at anyone, it wouldn’t feel so real.

Rickea was quiet for a beat. Then, seriously:

“So Coach is P — You Know The One.”

Azzi blinked. She turned to look at her.

Rickea gave a half-smile, not mocking, not smug. Just… kind. “I mean, I want to act surprised. I really do. But truth is? We’ve all kind of known for a while.”

Azzi’s throat tightened. “What do you mean known?”

Rickea sat beside her now, resting her arms on her knees. “The way y’all move? It’s subtle, but it’s not invisible. The way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching. The way your mood changes after her one-on-one meetings. And let’s not forget the infamous hoodie moment.”

Azzi opened her mouth, but no words came. Her heart was in her ears.

Rickea continued, gently, “We didn’t say anything because it never felt like it was messing with the team. Never felt like you weren’t present. Never felt like she was giving you unfair advantages. We all agreed — quiet respect.”

Azzi rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly flushed. “So everyone…?”

Rickea nodded. “Yeah. Rae. Z. Even KK — though she pretended not to for a while. Said she didn’t want to make assumptions.”

Azzi let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I thought we were being so careful.”

“You were,” Rickea said. “But when people care about each other like that? It shows. It leaks out, even when you try to stuff it down.”

Azzi’s eyes brimmed, not with embarrassment — but something between relief and fear. “You guys didn’t think less of me?”

Rickea shook her head firmly. “No. We thought more. You’ve been solid. She’s been solid. It’s complicated, sure. But it’s real. And we saw that.”

Silence settled for a beat between them — thick but not uncomfortable.

Azzi smiled faintly, swiping beneath one eye. “I’m really bad at this undercover thing, huh?”

Rickea laughed. “Girl. You left practice last week with her initials still pressed into your cheek from her bracelet. KK saw it and just walked out.”

Azzi groaned, hiding her face in her hands, but she was laughing now too.

“Just…” Rickea added, a little softer, “take care of each other, yeah? We got your back. But the outside world? They’re a different beast.”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. We’re trying.”

Rickea stood, bumped her shoulder, and grabbed her bag. “Try louder. Or at least… smarter.”

Azzi watched her walk out, heart still hammering — but in a different rhythm now.

A little steadier.

A little less alone.

Azzi’s Apartment – That Evening

Paige’s POV

Paige stood barefoot in the middle of Azzi’s living room, slowly drying her hair with the towel Azzi had tossed her after her shower. The scent of something warm and sweet drifted in from the kitchen — Azzi had lit one of those cinnamon candles she loved. It smelled like fall even though it was July. Comforting. Familiar.

Azzi walked out from the kitchen with two glasses of cold water and passed one to Paige without a word. She looked… calm. Lighter than usual. And Paige clocked it immediately.

She narrowed her eyes, settling on the couch. “You seem suspiciously at peace. Did something happen?”

Azzi plopped down beside her, curling one leg underneath herself. “Rickea knows.”

Paige blinked. “Knows what?”

Azzi gave her a look. “Paige.”

A beat of silence stretched between them, then Paige dragged a hand down her face.

“Shit.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Not mad?”

“No,” Paige muttered. “Just… I knew KK had been clocking us like the damn Spanish Inquisition. I figured if she knew, someone else had to be close behind.”

Azzi smiled softly. “Well. Apparently it wasn’t just Rickea. She said the whole team kind of knew. They just didn’t say anything.”

Paige froze. “The whole team?”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah — though she was allegedly trying not to make assumptions.”

Paige groaned and slumped further into the couch, arms crossed. “I told you we were being too casual in the film room last week.”

Azzi laughed. “You literally passed me a post-it note that said ‘come over later?’ like we were in high school.”

“Okay, well you sent me a winking emoji during warmups.”

Azzi shrugged. “I was being motivational.”

Paige side-eyed her. “You were being reckless.”

Azzi leaned over, her voice teasing. “You liked it.”

“Maybe.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, sipping water, the laughter settling into something softer.

Paige finally let her shoulders relax. “You know… I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like — for someone to say something, blow it all up. I’ve been holding my breath for weeks.”

Azzi glanced at her. “Still holding it?”

“Not as tight,” Paige admitted. “But it’s still there.”

Azzi nodded slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”

Another beat.

Paige turned, the vulnerability there, just under her voice. “Does it scare you that they all knew?”

Azzi shook her head. “Honestly? It kind of makes me feel… protected. Like they’ve been letting us figure it out in our own time.”

Paige smiled at that — a small, grateful one. “Yeah. That’s a good way to put it.”

Azzi tucked herself closer, her leg brushing against Paige’s. “We’re not as slick as we thought, huh?”

“Apparently not.”

“You mad?”

“No,” Paige whispered. “Relieved, kind of. Also mortified.”

Azzi chuckled. “We’ll get better at this.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Better at hiding?”

Azzi met her gaze, soft and unflinching. “Better at not being afraid.”

That landed.

Paige leaned in, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s shoulder. Then rested her head there, eyes closed.

Maybe the team knowing wasn’t the apocalypse.

Maybe it was just… the next step.

Sparks Training Facility — Executive Conference Room

The room was cold — in that artificial, corporate kind of way. All glass walls and steel chairs. A framed jersey on one side, a flatscreen on the other. Nothing cozy. Nothing forgiving.

Paige sat in one of the high-backed chairs at the long oval table, legs bouncing under the surface, doing everything she could not to show her nerves. She’d been in pressure situations before — buzzer-beaters, championship finals, career-defining moments.

This was different.

This wasn’t a game.

Across from her sat the Sparks’ General Manager, Karen Sumner — calm, unreadable, her fingers steepled in front of her. Beside her, via video call on the mounted screen, was Director Lauren Delgado from the WNBA league office. The League.

This wasn’t just an internal slap on the wrist.

This was serious.

Karen cleared her throat first. “Coach Bueckers. We appreciate you joining us on short notice.”

Paige nodded. “Of course.”

Lauren on the screen gave a tight-lipped smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll keep this direct, out of respect for your time — and for what’s at stake.”

Paige’s stomach dropped. She kept her face neutral. Barely blinked.

Karen continued, voice even. “As you’re aware, there’s been a noticeable increase in media scrutiny surrounding your personal conduct. Specifically as it pertains to your relationship with one of your players — Azzi Fudd.”

Paige didn’t flinch. But she didn’t speak either.

Lauren leaned in on the screen. “We’ve seen the photos. The timelines being stitched together. A resurfaced video clip here, a blurry parking lot photo there… nothing definitive. But enough to raise flags. Enough that we’re getting calls.”

Karen sighed quietly. “And calls lead to questions. And questions, if left unanswered, can lead to investigations.”

Lauren took over again. “Let me be clear. If a romantic relationship is occurring between a head coach and a current player on her roster, that would constitute a direct violation of the WNBA’s Coach-Player Conduct Code.”

Paige finally found her voice — careful, measured. “There’s nothing official to investigate.”

Lauren’s eyebrow arched. “That’s not a denial, Coach.”

Paige clenched her jaw, pulse ticking in her temple.

Karen glanced between the screen and Paige, then said, gently, “We’re not trying to accuse you. We’re trying to prevent a PR wildfire. If something is happening — if there’s anything that could be construed as misconduct — you need to either disclose it and recuse yourself from coaching that player… or stop it.”

The word stop hit harder than it should have. Paige kept her expression stone still.

Lauren folded her arms. “We’ve seen reputations sink over less.”

Karen nodded. “And you’ve worked hard to build yours. The players believe in you. The city is rallying behind you. Don’t throw it away for a headline.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Paige swallowed.

“Understood,” she said. “But like I said… there’s nothing official to investigate.”

Karen let out a small sigh — relief or disappointment, Paige couldn’t tell. “Then that’s the end of this meeting. But let me be clear — one more rumor, one more photo, one more anonymous tip? And this becomes league business.”

Lauren gave a stiff nod from the screen. “Keep it clean, Coach Bueckers. We’re watching.”

The call ended.

Karen stood and walked Paige to the door.

Just before she opened it, she paused. “I know how much this job means to you. Be careful with it.”

Paige nodded once.

But inside?

Her hands were already shaking.

Paige’s Apartment — That Night

She hadn’t even turned the lights on.

Just the soft blue of the TV, volume low, flickering across the walls like a pulse she couldn’t match. A half-eaten dinner sat cold on the coffee table — something she ordered and forgot to eat. Her phone was face-down beside it, buzzing once, then again. Azzi’s name.

She didn’t answer.

Not because she didn’t want to.

Because she did.

Because that was the problem.

She ran both hands over her face, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes until she saw stars. Then let them drop into her lap, blank stare fixed on nothing at all.

This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

After the drive-in date… after the subtle glances during practice that had softened into something warm and giddy… after the night she asked Azzi to be hers, officially, finally, actually hers — things were going smoothly. The team hadn’t just accepted them, they’d almost made a silent pact to keep their mouths shut. KK hadn’t said a word since her initial raised brow months ago. The locker room felt normal. The chemistry? Untouched.

It was working.

She thought they’d made it work.

But today, sitting across from the league director and her GM, watching them say words like investigation and violation and don’t throw it away — all she could think was:

You really thought love would be enough, huh?

Her laugh was hollow. Mean.

Because she had thought that. Naively. Stupidly.

She thought if they were careful, if they stayed present, if they kept winning — none of it would matter. That they could live in their little hidden corner of the world, full of forehead kisses and fingers laced under tables and whispered late-night FaceTimes like they were the only two people alive.

But this wasn’t a romance movie.

This was professional women’s basketball.

And she was a coach.

And Azzi?

A player.

Her player.

Paige dropped her head back against the couch cushion and let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob. It caught in her throat before it could fully become either. Her eyes burned. She blinked up at the ceiling, trying to will herself back into some kind of clarity.

But her thoughts kept looping.

What if I just made everything worse for her? What if loving her makes me the problem?

The knock on the door made her flinch.

Sharp. Quick. Familiar rhythm.

Azzi.

Paige didn’t move.

She couldn’t.

A second knock. Softer.

“Paige?” her voice came through, muffled.

Still, nothing.

The silence in the apartment wrapped itself tighter. Paige stood, finally, but didn’t go to the door. She paced. Back and forth. The way she used to when she was coming off the bench cold, unsure if her shot would fall. Only this wasn’t a game.

This was her life.

And her life felt like it was crumbling underneath her feet.

Because no matter how good it had felt — the hand-holding, the hidden smiles, the sleepy mornings curled up in Azzi’s bed — this wasn’t just about them anymore.

It never was.

The league wouldn’t protect them. The press wouldn’t stay quiet. And if things spiraled?

She’d lose her job.

Azzi would lose her peace.

She stared at the door, heart breaking in slow motion. Her hand hovered over the knob. She wanted to open it. Pull Azzi in and tell her it would all be okay.

But for once, Paige wasn’t sure if it would.

She wasn’t sure about anything — except the one thing that scared her the most:

Being honest and truthful about how she felt about Azzi.

Paige’s Apartment – Hallway

Azzi’s POV

The knock didn’t echo. Not like it did in her chest.

She stood outside the door, still. One hand loosely curled by her side, the other gripping the strap of her bag a little too tight. She stared at the wood in front of her like it might crack open and spill answers.

But nothing happened.

Just silence.

And Azzi let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” she whispered to herself.

Because here she was.

Knocking.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Just like Paige had, months ago.

Back then, Paige had stood in the hallway of her hotel room, vulnerable and unsure, waiting for Azzi to open the door and let her back in.

And now?

Azzi rubbed her knuckles, still warm from the knock. Now she was the one on the other side. In the same place. With the same ache.

Funny how life worked.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Not after everything. Not after the soft mornings, the stolen smiles, the real dates that made her feel less like a secret and more like a choice.

Not after last week, when Paige kissed her like she was choosing her again and again and again.

But today at practice?

Paige had barely looked at her. Had barely said more than a few clipped sentences. She was— closed off, unreachable, and trying way too hard to hide the hurt.

Azzi had known something was wrong.

Then Rickea told her about the league meeting. About the media starting to circle. About the very real threat that everything they’d built could be taken away.

And Azzi’s stomach dropped. Because none of this was just about feelings anymore.

This was Paige’s career.

This was their life — under a microscope now.

But still… Azzi had come here. She couldn’t sit with the weight of it all alone. She needed to see Paige’s face. Hear it from her mouth. Figure out where they stood — or if they even stood at all.

She raised her hand again, hesitated. The metal of the door number gleamed in the dim hallway light.

Still nothing.

No movement.

She pressed her ear lightly to the wood. Silent.

Her chest tightened.

Maybe Paige wasn’t home.

Maybe she was inside and just didn’t want to open the door.

Azzi swallowed hard.

Don’t do this to yourself.

But still… it stung.

To care this much and not know if it was safe to.

To be all in, and wonder if Paige was halfway out.

She looked down the hallway. Could just leave. Could pretend this never happened. Let Paige come to her when she was ready.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she walked away now, something between them might crack for real.

So she stood.

One more minute.

Two.

Just her and the hum of the hallway light.

And then—

The door lock clicked.

Her breath caught.

The handle turned, slow.

Azzi straightened, pulse hammering in her ears.

The door creaked open just a sliver. Then a little wider.

And there was Paige — in sweats, eyes tired, skin washed in the soft blue of her living room TV. She looked like she hadn’t slept. Like she’d been carrying the weight of everything too long and too quietly.

Azzi stepped forward, voice barely above a whisper.

“You gonna let me in?”

Paige’s mouth parted. Like she wanted to say no. Or maybe yes. Or maybe just fall into Azzi’s arms and not say anything at all.

Instead, she nodded.

And opened the door.

Paige’s Apartment – Living Room

Paige’s POV

She didn’t plan to say it. Not like this.

Not with her chest caved in and her palms shaking. Not when it felt like the world had already decided they were the problem.

But Azzi was standing in the middle of her living room — arms crossed like she was holding herself together — and Paige couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“I love you.”

The words broke free before she even realized she’d said them.

Azzi’s head snapped up.

“What?”

Paige stepped closer, heart thudding against the inside of her ribs.

“I love you, Azzi.”

She meant to stop there. To let it land. To give Azzi the space to respond.

But she couldn’t.

Because if she stopped talking, she might break.

“I love you so much,” Paige said, voice cracking, “that I’m willing to walk away from all of it — everything — if it means protecting you.”

Azzi’s face contorted, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Paige swallowed hard, barely able to breathe past the lump in her throat.

She shook her head. “If this turns into an investigation — if the story gets worse — they’ll come for us. They’ll come for me. But they’ll come for you too. And I can’t let what we have ruin your career.”

Azzi blinked, stunned. “Paige…”

“You still have so much more to give to this game,” Paige whispered, stepping closer. “You’re just getting started. And I owe it to you — to us — to protect that. Even if it means walking away.”

“No.” Azzi’s voice was a soft protest. She reached out, fingertips brushing Paige’s arm. “No. Don’t say that.”

Paige closed her eyes. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” Azzi’s voice trembled now. “We can keep it quiet. We’ve been doing it. We can just—try harder. Be smarter. We can, Paige.”

But Paige opened her eyes, and there was something wrecked and resolute in them.

“That’s the thing,” she said quietly. “A love like this… it can’t stay hidden forever.”

Azzi’s face folded into a frown. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” Paige hesitated.

Azzi took a step back, as if bracing. “Paige. What does that mean?”

But Paige didn’t answer — not yet.

The words sat in her chest like a storm.

What she was about to say next could change everything.

And just as she opened her mouth—

A knock.

Sharp. Sudden. Echoing through the apartment.

They both froze.

Paige’s eyes darted to the door. Azzi’s breath caught.

Another knock. Louder this time.

Neither of them moved.

“Paige?” a muffled voice called from the hallway. “It’s— It’s GM Sumner. Can we talk?”

Azzi’s hand fell away from Paige’s arm.

Paige didn’t look away. Not yet.

Azzi stared at her, eyes glassy.

“Tell me this doesn’t mean what I think it means.”

But Paige still didn’t speak.

The third knock was softer.

More final.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Shy But Mighty

Oneshot

Requested By: @fernstarsblog

Summary: Lucifer gets surprised by how strong you are.

Lucifer never would have expected this power to come from you.

You were such a kind and caring person. And you tended to act a bit reserved.

Not only that, but Lucifer tended to think of humans as a weaker species.

It was nothing personal, it was just that demons were built so much taller, larger, and stronger.

So, it was only natural for him to think that he would be stronger than you.

-

The two of you were in his study, sitting across from each other at his desk.

Lucifer had a bit too much Demonus that night - granted, it was because of you encouraging him to keep drinking.

This was one of the rare nights that Lucifer had you all to himself, so naturally, he wanted to enjoy it to its full extent.

So he continued to drink away while enjoying conversation with you.

Then - you decided to challenge him to an arm-wrestling competition.

A small smirk formed on his lips as the words left your lips. There was no way you could be serious, right?

You - a mere but very adorable human - were challenging him - one of the seven rulers of the Devildom - to a contest of strength?

Lucifer tried to politely decline. He didn’t want to hurt you.

“Are you scared of losing?” you asked him in response.

Lucifer’s eyes widened slightly at your question but then they glowed with a mischievous glint.

There were a lot of things that Lucifer had control of in his life, but his sin wasn’t always one of them.

And telling a very prideful demon that they weren’t doing something because they were scared was a terrible idea.

Lucifer’s smirk turned into a devilish smile as he leaned forward, his raven black locks falling slightly into his eyes.

He placed his dominant arm upright on the desk, before telling you, “Fine, if you want to embarrass yourself that badly.”

You would have scoffed if Lucifer wasn’t playing right into your hand.

–

A week ago, you had been cleaning things in your bedroom when Belphie stopped by to ask you a question.

That’s when he noticed you moving your heavy furniture around like it was nothing. 

Belphie was stunned at first, then suspicious of whether you were really a human or not.

He dragged Satan into spying on you with him and when they both witnessed your strength, they had decided that you couldn’t be human.

Satan confronted you about it, and the whole scenario made you laugh. 

You explained that you worked hard for your muscles and that you were just really strong.

Belphie, of course, then wanted to challenge you to a feat of strength.

He was the one who came up with the arm wrestling idea. 

But, when you beat him quicker than either of the two demons in the room believed should have been possible, Satan wanted a chance as well.

He blamed Belphie’s loss on the fact that he was the seventh born. Obviously, the fourth-born would be much harder to beat.

Or so he thought, until moments later he was wearing the same defeated expression.

Belphie and Satan sat in silence for a few moments after, trying to comprehend how they were weaker than you.

But, then Satan’s eyes lit up with excitement. “We could use this against Lucifer,” he stated.

Belphie was, naturally, immediately on board. “That’s it! He’ll be so embarrassed when he loses a contest of strength to a human,” Belphie added.

“And we can sneak in and take a picture of his expression when he’s embarrassed and post it online for everyone to see!” Satan continued, the two of them looking like kids who had just discovered the greatest treasure.

“Hold on,” you stated, unsure if you were completely on board with the idea.

You would be the one who was putting themselves on the line here, so you had a couple of questions.

“First, how do we know that I can beat Lucifer? I’m strong but he’s the first born for a reason,” you told them.

Before they could answer your first question you continued to question, “And, we’ve tried to take a picture of Lucifer before. He always catches us in the act so how do you plan on pulling it off this time?”

There was a moment of silence before Satan said, “Demonus.”

Belphie’s eyes lit up again. “We just need to get him to drink enough of it, and then his strength and awareness will be down. So you can win and we can take the picture,” Belphie agreed.

You pondered the idea for a moment and your two friends looked at you with hopeful eyes. 

You let out a small sigh, already knowing the assignment that was given to you.

You nodded your head and watched as they got large smiles before moving to get everything you needed to pull this off.

-

Even though it was all a scheme, you were really enjoying your conversation with Lucifer.

You were somewhat grateful that you had the job of making sure he drank plenty of Demonus.

But, the time for talking was over. Now, it was time for the second part of your job.

You moved forward as well, placing your hand in his gloved one, giving him an innocent smile.

On his mark, the match started and you watched as his expression turned from confidence to confusion to slight panic as you began winning the match.

You had a smirk on your face as his hand hit the desk and Lucifer looked at you in bewilderment.

*FLASH*

In his moment of defeat, Lucifer had let his guard down just as you all had planned.

He didn’t notice that Belphie and Satan had snuck into the room to take a picture of his grand defeat.

The three of you quickly left the room, knowing that your scheme was sure to make the eldest angry, Demonus or no Demonus.

“We got it!” Belphie told you as the three of you ran for your lives. 

Funnily enough, Lucifer wasn’t angry until you posted it online, on multiple different platforms, from multiple accounts.

By the time Lucifer managed to get them all taken down, practically the entire Devildom had already seen the picture.

The Anti-Lucifer League received a very long lecture from Lucifer after that and you each had your own proper punishments.

But, Lucifer would be lying if he said that your strength didn’t impress him.

He could have any excuse as to why he lost that match, but the truth of the matter was you were so much stronger than he would have imagined.

And seeing that strength put to good use did happen to spark his sin and make him smirk as he watched you in action.

After that day, whenever there was something that involved physical strength, Lucifer would take the back burner and suggest that you help instead so that he could see your display of power.

He won’t admit it, but it excited him to see you looking so powerful.

But, if you ever needed a reminder of who was really in power in this relationship, he would be more than happy to show you.

[tumblingxelian]

MLB AU - Headshot (Virus Timeline)

Summary:

The careless flick of a yoyo in anger leads to a death, which sets of a daisy-chain of chaos that no one could hope to predict let alone control.

Prologue

Lila, bedecked in a cleaning lady disguise in her apartment, was caught somewhere between giddy satisfaction and paranoid dread as she skimmed the results of her latest play.

Things had gone beyond well when Ladybug & Chat Noir decided to help an Akuma toss the mayor out of office. Ordering Chloe to burst in with the press and make them look bad had been an inspired adaptation on her part. Really she'd never expected things to go that well.

Then it went side-ways and Ladybug caved Chloe's head in with her yoyo.

A simple "That's enough" and suddenly the blonde bimbos supposedly empty head was splattered across everyone's TV screen before those stupid Tsurugi robots could do anything. Now Tsurugi stocks were falling almost as fast as Ladybug's reputation in the polls!

Lila should be ecstatic, but the reality Ladybug might turn that same violence on her was now a real and genuine concern and for all that Chloe was a vacuous and obnoxious tool. Lila couldn't deny seeing her skull split open, her blood flow and her brain splatter across the floor hadn't been horrifying to behold.

But Lila was a practical girl, & once Chloe was healed she calmed right down and tried to regain control of the situation. Unfortunately that proved harder than she'd have liked.

Chloe had seemingly dropped her ear piece or was just too panicked to listen because she had let out a hysterical half scream, half shout, then practically vaulted over the press and took off running. & for all Chloe lacked swift mental faculties she made up for it in legs because the press lost her almost instantly.

Still, Lila could work with this, she was adaptable after all and would play the hand she was dealt, and Chloe’s parents had certainly given her some fine cards to play.

Andre had swooped in to try and look like a grief stricken father, while somehow weaving in a reference to his plans to become a director again. Only to get counter swooped by Audrey tearing into him over divorcing herself and Chloe. Both wanted their newly sympathetic tragedy doll and fortunately for Lila neither made themselves look like remotely functional parents.

Slagging each other off even hours after the public meltdowns had started, with every scrap of dirty laundry from over a decade of marriage aired for all to see, and no real mention of their missing daughter. To say that their shameful display, compounded with Chloe’s public death had spun public sympathy towards the blonde would be an understatement.

Lila had been quick to set up an online funding campaign, for Chloe's benefit of course.

Now if she could just find the blonde she'd have her little cash cow back in its barn and could move on to trying to figure out Gabriel and Ladybug's next move -

There was a thumping on her door, followed by a tired but trill, "Let me in Lila, I have had a day."

"Chloe!" Lila cheered.

Leaping from her seat and throwing open the door she began fussing, keeping her words small, flattering and subtly guiding the blonde on exactly what to think.

"Oh my dear, exceptional, wonderfully brave friend! I saw what that monster did to you! I've been trying to reach you and find you but I knew if you would go to anyone it would be your closest and most loyal friend so I stayed here, waiting, hoping you'd come back!" Managing Chloe was easy but she required constant elaboration for understanding anything more complicated than, ‘want grab now’.

Seeing Chloe looking around the apartment hallway furtively, Lila pulled the blonde into the apartment and her embrace which the blonde slowly returned without any of her usual energy or clumsy attempts at haughtiness.

Burying her face into Lila's neck Chloe murmured, "It's nice that someone... Cares..."

"Of course I care, Chloe. Even if the world turns against you I'm here for you and I always will be." The fact Chloe's online following went from a respectable seventy two thousand to several million with donors to match certainly helped.

"The emancipation campaign, that was you right? I don't recall us sharing bank details."

Lila was used to having to swiftly reorient her deceptions but Chloe usually required so little effort to manage she maybe said too much. "I did, after the horrible things your father said I thought you deserved some resources all your own. I know you have your mother-"

"No I don't, she won't remember my name by tomorrow," Chloe's hug grew firmer, tighter. "I need that money Lila, transfer it to my private account."

Squirming, she answered, "I thought I could manage it for you, it'd be so heavy- uh, Chloe, I know you had a hard- day, ah- tight!"

Chloe's hug was like a viper constricting her upper arms to her chest and Lila could barely breath as the girl whispered.

"I need that money, you'll send it to my account. Won't you, friend?"

Panicking and unable to get away Lila accented, "Of course, of course my dear friend!" A few haphazard presses on her Alliance ring and a projected image showing her changing the fundraiser details to Chloe's account filled the otherwise dark room.

Chloe's hold slowly loosened and she pulled back enough to kiss Lila on the cheek, once, twice and then pulling away she looked her over with… Lila couldn't quite describe it.

She was used to Chloe having a sort of hazy, twitchiness about her, like one might expect of a drugged up horse. But this new expression was somehow both strangely misty and yet all too focused for the Chloe she knew.

Stepping back Chloe nodded to herself and said, "I will be staying here until I sort out a new living situation." With that declared like it was a fact the blonde made her way to Lila's bedroom.

"I, of course you can stay over Chloe, but I only have one bed."

Chloe held the door and looked at her with half lidded eyes, "Haven't you ever read fanfiction?"

'Since when can you read?' A part of her wanted to ask, but out loud Lila answered honestly for once, "I don't really read fanfiction."

The dour look Chloe sent her was usually directed at anyone but Lila & was followed with her bedroom door slamming shut.

"That was the sound of you missing your shot, but I suppose educating you will pass the time and be almost as entertaining. Order some room service, this will take awhile."

Clapping her hands she answered. "Oh I am sure you have such wisdom to share, but don't you want to get your beauty sleep?" What a relief Chloe was back to having the attention span of a goldfish.

"I am too wired to sleep, too hungry to scheme and in desperate need of a distraction." Chloe plopped down on the lounge and snatched up Lila's laptop. "So help me de-stress one way or another, or... Go clean something. You are dressed for it and the view would be more pleasant than the conversation."

'Something's changed, a lot has changed, what the hell changed!?' Lila mind was frantic even as she smiled gamely and ordered a platter of her and Chloe's favorites as the blonde poured over the laptop.

'Chloe was never that obvious with her interest, she barely ever spoke coherently for that long and normally she'd drop everything and re-shift focus if all I did was give her a compliment and promise something nice!'

Biting her tongue, Lila smiled at the delivery person before carting the food back to the plush lounge where Chloe sat cross-legged and sharp-eyed. Grabbing at her plate of sushi, Chloe turned the lap-top around to show some kind of archive website.

'Maybe Ladybug finally gave her a brain?' Lila wondered.

"Now to your education, the first trope, there was only one bed!"

Lila sighed, she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up.

Chapter 1

Lila liked to think she was a patient person.

She wouldn't be much of a plotter if she was impatient now would she?

But after a night in disguise because Ladybug might come and crack her skull open, hours fretting over trying to get her plan to rob Gabriel back on track but meeting nothing but road-blocks and now seemingly losing control over the once malleable Chloe.

Lila was more than a little stressed.

Made worse by sitting through a multi-hour long lecture on fanfiction tropes and conventions, which under other circumstances might have been useful for the insights into Chloe's psyche. But this late at night and with so many other things on her mind, the girl's penchant for enemies to lovers, redemption and childhood friendships were like droplets of water bouncing off clay.

Still, she could have bore it if not for the hour-long lecture on pseudo biology that Chloe evidently was just reading from the author notes of her 'fanfiction' like it was a legitimate text book!

So Lila lost her patience, just a smidgen when Chloe said: "It's all quite realistic really."

"Chloe, a well educated and intelligent girl like you must know this kind of thing is, as your mother would say. Utterly ridiculous."

Chloe's glare sharpened and flickered to the big billboard TV screen outside where reruns of Chloe's injury and her parents' nine hour long break up were being played side by side. "My mother would call the rising of the sun utterly ridiculous if it reflected off her martini at the wrong angle and while I'm no doctor, the author is. They know more of what they are speaking of than you do, Lila."

Her mother was a bad avenue, Lila needed to readjust, "Well I'm not sure about that, I know more than a thing or two about medicine. You remember the massage I gave you-"

"Yes, yes," Chloe said with an airy wave, "You have very talented hands, that does not give you a PHD in genetic science and viruses like the author has."

It was 1-AM and Lila had just been dismissed and talked over by someone she had previously needed to coach through pronouncing democracy and lectured as though she were the ignorant one!

‘I’ve started blood feuds over less!’

Then a voice boomed in her mind, or maybe it had been there longer than that, Lila couldn't say.

Her Alliance ring hummed and soon all she knew were the words of the Monarch, of Gabriel Agreste.

"Such vexation and venom, my Lila I promise you the power to prove yourself as wise and put this fool in their place by putting their little theory to the test!"

If Lila were more aware she'd realize Gabriel’s plan barely addressed her anger, only doing so in the most roundabout way, as though he was just using her as a vessel for some other scheme.

But Lila couldn’t think about that, could not see or sense it.

She'd never been good at resisting Akumatization after all.

So all she heard was the promise of power & vindication.

Thus she answered as she always did, "Yes, my monarch!" Lila didn't hear Chloe cursing as she flung herself off the lounge and scittered out of sight as the transformation took hold. A myriad of colors suffused Lila as her Alliance ring pulsed with arcane power.

She sent a single sharp gesture towards her laptop and the magic washed over it like locusts descending upon a field and drew from it the words that began to float drift around her right hand, slowly infusing themselves into an orb of magic and the helix within.

"I'll encode this fool's DNA-Virus into every Alliance Ring on Earth and when it fails, you will finally see that whether it's fact or fiction, lie or truth, I am your one and only authority!"

The orb engulfed Lila's hand and shrunk down into her Alliance ring, pulsing with eldritch light she raised it high and the virus was multiplied and unleashed across the world!

Then Chloe leapt onto her back, tore the Alliance ring from her finger and hurled it through the apartment window. Lila's instinctive cry of, "Noooo!" was cut off when they both hit the floor and some distant part of her registered a car driving over the ring and breaking the connection.

The heady feeling brought on by the Butterflies presence began fading with an echoing chuckle.

Chloe turned her over, all fangs and claws and growls. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" She dragged Lila's face close to hers and snarled, "I just got my brain back, and I am not letting you throw it away over something so utterly ridiculous!"

Muddy thoughts becoming clearer pieces fell into place too fast for her lips to stop, "It was Gabriel who made you..." Lila's mouth snapped shut as Chloe's eyes widened, pupils turned to pin-pricks as she violently convulsed above her before letting out a choked rasp, almost a sob.

"Gabriel... Of course... Of course it was him, it makes too much sense. The movie, the rings and robots, that day on the roof. He knew, he's always known how to twist the knife!"

Rolling with the punches, Lila answered, "I assumed you’d already figured it out if he flambeed your brain," her words came with a sort of cavalier shrug but as the pieces locked into place there was a cold, churning horror in her guts at the thought of him doing the same to her. Lila's mind was her everything if she'd been rendered to barely above a toddler like Chloe she wouldn't-

Lila cut that thought off before it could form as Chloe tightened her grip and growled, "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, what I want to know is how you knew."

A lie, even now Chloe wasn't a natural liar, even her stone-walling when Lila had tried to divert her attention from stories was blunt. The blonde was not a deceiver, that much at least remained true.

Still, Lila was flying blind as to what this new or old version of Chloe could do and with her heart thumping against her chest she decided something like honesty was the best policy.

"He used me like he used you Chloe. Why do you think those Scarlet Akuma were ready and waiting when I tried to have Marinette expelled?" She glanced away, "Not that it stopped him from throwing me away either." The bitter resentment in her tone was real enough and Chloe seemed willing to accept that much at least.

Slowly the blonde loosened her grip and lolled back up to simple kneel over Lila staring at the ceiling of the dim apartment room. As seconds drifted by Lila wanted to speak or at least get the blonde off of her but she was still feeling strangely fuzzy and flushed, her heart was racing but she couldn't bring herself to move.

She felt too hot for the cool night air.

Finally, Chloe worked through whatever it was that was holding her back and with gnashed teeth she shot to her feet, pulling Lila up with her like a rag doll and began absently brushing invisible lint off her shoulders.

"I suppose I should thank you, now I don't need to keep going in circles on whether it's Adrien or Felix who has what I need."

Without another word she turned and began marching for the door.

Confused and slightly at odds with the sudden loss of the other girls presence, Lila pursued, "What are we after?"

Chloe glanced back over her shoulder, expression flickering for a moment before a vicious sort of smirk was forced onto her lips, "Follow me and you'll find out soon enough. If not, well, you'll see once I'm done tearing Gabriel to shreds!"

The subtle growl inflecting her tone sent shivers down Lila's spine and the prospect of seeing Gabriel pay for using her and throwing her away was already tempting. The prospect he could never do to her what he'd evidently done to Chloe only sweetened the deal and was all the temptation she needed.

"Then lead on, I can't wait to see what you have for us~" God she hoped it was worth it.

"Trust me, it'll be better than anything Lady-bum and Chat-Chump could come up with, but first, we need to see an old not friend of mine."

Lila let Chloe drag her out of the apartment without even a coat, she felt warm enough as it was.

Chapter 2

Felix was not one who liked being woken suddenly, least of all by Duusu prodding at his cheek, but he grudgingly acceded to the Kwami and groaned, "What is it Duusu?"

"I sense two new presence, distantly familiar to me, and rippling with emotional intensity, young master."

"It's not Ladybug & Chat Noir is it?"

"No young master, nor any other Miraculous wielder I could name."

That ruled out his uncle and his human pet Nathalie, so Felix hoisted himself out of bed just in time for mother to push open his door, "My treasure, it seems we have guests, Chloe and a little friend of hers forced their way passed our security."

Felix snorted, "How much screaming was involved?"

His mother chuckled, "Less than you'd think, but enough to make the beginnings of a scene. It seems Chloe’s injury hasn't quenched that fiery personality."

"It'd take more than than a bucket of ice to douse a raging house fire I suppose," Felix slipped Duusu's Miraculous into his pajamas front pocket and the Kwami de-materialized as he strode down into the foyer where Chloe awaited with a faintly familiar redhead at her side.

'Lila wasn't it? Kagami and Adrien couldn't make heads or tails of her until recently, I suppose she's latched onto the last wealthy fool who will tolerate her.' Latched on was a rather fitting term for how the brunette was leaning against Chloe, an arm snaking through the blonde's and head on her shoulder.

Chloe meanwhile stood stiff as a board, a forced and mildly manic grin stretched on her features like it had been forced there by Botox as she greeted, "Felix, my dear lady Amilie, so sorry to wake you."

"Not sorry enough to wait till morning though," Felix snarked.

His mother rested a hand on his shoulder, "Not that we blame you dear, I imagine you had quite the fright yesterday, how are you now?"

A mechanical shrug as she met his eyes intensely, "As well as can be, this isn't the first time someone with magic powers decided to knock me around for some petty reason" She capped that off with a wave of her fingers as though sprinkling fairy dust on a gaping wound.

"Still," Lila cut in, "We felt it was best to get somewhere safer until something could be done about that wreck-loose Ladybug!"

"Well how flattering," His mother intoned generously. "But did you get your parents permission?" Mother, clever mother was looking for a way out that wouldn't be their fault.

Chloe strode forward, more strutted really, with the Lila girl whispering in her ear as she answered. "My parents are still tearing each other apart on live TV to the delight of the masses. I came here because when looking for security against super powers there's only so many places one can turn, Felix."

The pieces clicked into place as the night Felix had tried to cast from his memory flared to the forefront of his mind, Chloe had seen him in his Adrien guise transform and snap her out of existence!

He tried to fall into a defensive stance, Duusu's name on his lips, but Chloe had started moving before she finished speaking and snagged his front pocket. The expensive fabric couldn't hold up to her nails and was ripped asunder.

Lila flung herself bodily at his mother when she tried to intervene and sent them both to the floor. The manors security sentinels flaring to life in time to see Felix land a sharp blow across Chloe's face, but in his haste to get passed her he didn't see her roll with the motion. Turning the momentum into a devastating roundhouse kick that sent him crashing to the floor.

Felix watched helplessly as his mother tried and failed to catch Chloe's feet as the blonde pounced.

"Kwami, tell me your name!" She called, rolling and vaulting to her feet as Duusu answered the order, despite Felix's hasty calls for silence. The manors' guns flared to life, but they were too late as Chloe cried, "Duusu, transform moi!"

In a flash of ocean blues, pinks and blinding white, Chloe was transformed, her skin a dark blue, her frame taller and broader with her hair taking on a nearly stark white color. She was adorned in form fitting leggings and a sharp open collared top with a vibrant and half cape of feathers draped over her shoulder.

Chloe flicked open the fan and in a blur launched herself from the floor and across the hall with a howling, "Yeees!"

She struck down the first turret with a kick, crying out, "I am strong!"

Launching herself from the rear wall she rocketed towards the door and ripped apart the second turret, "Strong!"

She flipped through the air and cut the chandelier loose, forcing Felix to retreat backwards towards mother, while Lila watched in wicked glee as Chloe obliterated the last turret. "Strong again!"

Chloe landed before them, marble shattering beneath her feet and the last remnants of the turrets crumbling in her fingers.

Lila launched herself at the blonde and Chloe didn't even budge as Lila swung around her and snuggled up against the blonde with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "That you are," she purred, "& so well dressed too, much better than the fop."

That drew a snort of amusement from the blonde as she came down from her high and locked her shining pink eyes on them; his mother stepped between Chloe and Felix hid the family signet ring behind his back.

"So," Chloe hummed, "That explains a lot," She held up her ring-ed hand and dread swallowed him whole even as his mother cried out, "Chloe, he's your friend!"

"My friend!?" She roared, "He snapped me out of existence, his friendship is as shiftless and unreliable as the rest of yours!"

"He saw the error of his ways, he undid it," his mother reasoned, desperately.

"Oh how convenient," Chloe rolled her eyes, "Because he was able to unbreak what he broke, all is forgiven apparently. Isn't that convenient Lila?"

The brunette giggled wickedly, "Convenient for some and not for others, a double standard one might say."

Chloe huffed, "I do say," the look she was sending them wasn't one of mere rage but one Felix recognized, seething jealousy, no doubt from the way his mother stood between him and death. He'd once relished in that distinction between them, now it might only be worsening his chances, but Felix couldn't bring himself to speak lest that dreaded snap ring out and be the last thing he heard.

Amilie fell to the floor, "Please, he's all I have," She continued despite the girl's scoff, "You aren't an evil person Chloe, there's no need for you to do this."

The blonde's fangs were gnashing, her fingers tightened, and then slackened with an aggrieved rolling of eyes. "You two really are pathetic, utterly pathetic," The scorn didn't ring true, her words sounding more aching than angered.

Lila nuzzled against Chloe, "They'd be more useful alive, so long as they keep their mouths shut."

"Hmm, I suppose," Chloe tilted her head and zeroed her gaze in on Felix again even as his mother hugged him close. "Keep this in mind going forward, if anyone finds out I have this," she motioned to the Miraculous on her lapel. "Then I will blame you.”

Her tone grew heavier, “I don't care if Kagami and Marinette somehow uncover and try to steal it, I will blame you. I don't care if Adrien figures it out I have it because his dad has almost all the others, I will blame you. I don't care if the magic stops working and everyone can see it's me. I. Will. Blame. You!"

She held her fingers up again, ready to snap, "& I promise, the fallout from that will hit your head Felix, long before it hits mine? Understood?"

He swallowed, but along with his mother nodded, "Understood."

She held a hand up to her ear, "Understood who-" She hummed. "Hmm, actually, what should I call myself? I need something beyond a queen, but Empress Peacock sounds stupid."

Lila was evidently quick on the up-take and suggested, "Imperatus, a term tying to the great emperors and empresses of Rome."

Chloe smirked and tapped the fan to her chin, "Oh I like that, Yes, Imperatus Peacock, that can work."

Finally, Felix found his voice and despite his mothers subtle beckoning said, "Chloe," he grimaced at the dual glare that met him and corrected,"… Imperatus, if you go to Gabriel with that he will just steal it."

Chloe let out a shriek of laughter, "Go to Gabriel!? Go to Hawk Moth who turned my brain into his personal playground until it was little better than play dough? No, I'm not going to give this to Gabriel. I am going to use it to make an army of Senitmonsters and have them rip that simpering, back-stabbing, wretch, limb from limb!"

Her voice echoed and resounded off the walls, the air around her suffused with energy before Chloe forcibly composed herself. With that she scooped Lila up in her arms and added, "but first, breakfast, I am famished!"

With that she leapt into the air and kicked her way through a window before leaping into the early morning light.

Felix flopped to the ground against his mother, his whole world turned upside down in mere moments, and only three words seemed fitting.

"What the hell?"

-

Duusu came back into being on a rooftop somewhere, the city was not yet awake even if their new holder was, stalking around both the Kwami and their newly minted manifestation.

Duusu looked over the new Sentimonster of rage and dread, it was a black and yellow creature, with red eyes, purple sclera, and a physical form akin to that of a gorilla but stretched too long and made too sharp. It was equipped with a massive jaw and subtle spikes along its hulking frame.

It was also barely thirty centimeters tall.

"Young Mistress," Duusu greeted politely, bringing the blonde to a stop as her jumbled emotions solidified behind several walls of pride and vexation.

"Ah yes, Duusu wasn't it? How do you take your meals?"

"I am partial to sweet and sour candies if it pleases you!"

The blonde nodded and pulled a small roll of sweet smelling breath mints from her purse, "I'll find you something higher quality later, Lila's apartment is swarming with reporters so we can't go back there and we need to work on making more Sentimonsters anyway."

That stopped Duusu from taking a second bite and gave time for the second mass of emotions to close the distance, bringing with her warm beverages and pre-wrapped snacks.

"Before you complain, the only thing open at this ungodly hour are vending machines," She passed a cringing Chloe her snacks and then leaned against the blonde. Breathing in her scent, Lila was sending waves of confusion and contentment in equal measure, along with a subtler mix of desire and greed.

"Where are your hands traveling?" Chloe intoned, not quite suspicious or amused but a secret third thing.

"Mine?" Lila crooned, letting them run over Chloe's chest, down her hips and snaking around her back, "Nowhere special, don't you trust me?"

Chloe scoffed, "No, I don't, it's what I like about you. I know what to expect."

There was a moment of stark shock running through Lila that was quickly engulfed as she nuzzled against the blonde’s neck, "Then this relationship might just last!" She purred.

Chloe's own emotions roiled, relief but not joy, control but not satisfaction, this was not love by any stretch. Duusu wanted to shake his head but held their tongue and let the little tit for tat continue.

"I recognize this one, it's... Smaller," Lila hummed, almost teasing as she refused to budge from where she had glued herself to Chloe's side.

"It is, but that can change, show her." Chloe's instructions were met with the Sentimonster letting out a tiny roar before slamming both fists against the roof, the force fed back into its frame and it swelled in size and strength.

"Oh it's a grower, not a shower, how clever!" Lila cheered.

"Ugh so vulgar, but yes, it's much better than that one Gabriel made me. I think you deserve a more fitting name no? Seeing as you'll be taking down a monarch, how about Recigider? Regina for short." The Sentimonster thumped fists against its chest and roared in approval. "Perfect, you'll be the one to lead my army on Gabriel's rancid little compound."

"Young Mistress," Duusu intoned gravely as they swallowed the last of their mint, "as much as I too wish to see the Monarch fall, I must warn you there are limits to this power."

"Limits? Since when?!" Chloe groused, rage and offense cloaked a bone deep fear.

"Since you do not have the Butterfly to help supply you with excess energies or trans-formative properties, the Sentimonsters will be purer and far more reliant on ‘us’ alone to work."

Chloe stared, blinking in a slow, uncomprehending manner before beckoning them to elaborate.

"Young Mistress, the variety and flexibility of my emotional manifestations was born from my union with the Butterfly. Without its powers, You will only create either weak Sentimonsters from minor emotions, or identical Senitmonsters, with perhaps slight variances based on your emotional state."

He could already see the wheels turning in her head and pressed on.

"What's more, a Sentimonster like this is akin to a familiar of myth, it directly connects to the Amok and to you. It draws a degree of vitality from you, that is what makes them such ideal protectors. But having too many can exhaust you. The strain can be lessened by using others as a basis for the Senitmonster but only if they keep the Amok and even then, there are limits..."

Chloe was gritting her teeth, rage bubbling inside her. Regicider began slamming its fists to the roof, roaring and swelling in size until Lila short-circuited Chloe's emotional episode with a kiss. Regina froze, as if Blue-Screening, Duusu had once heard it called. Chloe was not much better before shaking her head and taking several deep breaths, almost drinking in Lila's scent and... Not being soothed, but calmed at least.

Chloe pulled back, confused at her own actions even while Lila hung on equally confused but lost in her own hazy thoughts for the moment. ‘How queer,’ the Kwami mused.

Swallowing, Chloe looked to Duusu, "If that's true, how am I meant to take down Gabriel when he has all the other Miraculous? & don't tell me to team up with Ladybug and Chat Noir, that ship sailed!"

"Well Young Mistress, I believe the saying is, the right tool for the right job, You already have a fine war hammer-"

"But you need something sneakier first," Lila purred, "Think of it, something that could slip into Gabriel's little Parisian Palace and pilfer every power he has." A wicked smirk spread on her face, fear and revelry and ambition all mingling into a sordid soup. "Imagine making him as scared and confused as he must have made you and watching him twist in the wind, then finally crushing him."

Anger stoked and pride nettled, Chloe nodded, "Let's hope you're Akuma is as sneaky as you then." She reluctantly pulled away from Lila and marched over to her Sentimonster, the creature obediently handed back the Peacock Miraculous.

As Chloe fitted the jewelry to her jacket she added, “By the way, Duusu. Did Adrien know of his fathers schemes?”

“No, my former holders did not, as far as I know, inform him of their plans.”

Chloe frowned but nodded, “Very well then I guess I’ll leave him be, frankly he should be thanking me once all this is over. For now though. Duusu, transform moi!”

& Duusu was once again suffused with their new handler.

-

Even as magical power filled her form and enhanced her frame, Chloe felt tired.

She’d been sleeping terribly for weeks and since waking up from her untimely death hadn't slept at all.

A part of her was afraid to sleep, to relax enough to let go of even some of the simmering rage keeping her up. Afraid to wake up and see her mind returned to that hazy miasma from which fits of awareness had been all too brief. Maybe if she destroyed Gabriel she’d feel better, safer.

A quiet part of Chloe doubted it.

As the bursting light faded Lila was now visible to her again but in two layers, emotions and physically.

Technically three if the faint sense of cocoa powder on coffee was indeed Lila's scent but Chloe couldn't be sure she wasn't imagining that. & frankly she didn’t have the where with all to deal with the implications of that if it were true. The emotional spectrum was already too much to parse. A blend of desire and confusion, fear and hunger, cold withdrawal and almost primal intensity all at war with one another.

It was so different to how Aimilie’s love and Felix's fear registered so clearly and so strongly, almost overwhelming. In truth Chloe couldn't have killed them if she tried. 'Which just makes Gabriel being able to do what he's done even worse!' That righteous indignation clicked her mind back into gear and she sent her partner in crime a smirk, a single feather offered to her like a ring.

"Let's make a monster together~"

Lila faux giggled behind her hand, cheeks surprisingly vibrant as she revealed a fox-tail styled pendant, “So forward, but who could resist such a charming offer,” she purred.

With a sharp flick of her wrist, Chloe loosed the feather into the necklace. The amulet pulsed and shone, Chloe could feel it in real time as Lila's predatory hunger blended with cautious wariness sprung from her form and were shaped into the form of a looming fox.

Easily as large as a horse with one then several and then one again tails. Its colors were darker than Chloe thought foxes came in, a closer match to Lila's almost maroon hair and its features while vulpine had an unmistakably off lilt to them that belied an almost human structure and with it, intelligence.

"Oh you are beautiful, to be expected from our work," Lila cooed, stroking the beasts head which welcomed it with a pleased rumble.

"Refined looking certainly," Chloe squinted as she tried to interpret the waves of sensations as facts but Lila did the heavy lifting for her here as she tapped the necklace and the Senitmonsters began to blend into the surroundings until it was almost invisible, save if one knew where to look.

"Oh that's perfect, did you have a name in mind?" She asked as Lila trotted over to her, pleased as punch with herself.

"Vulpin-X, the hunter and thief of game in the king's forest."

"Very fitting," Chloe took Lila's hand and twirled the girl around, "And large enough to carry us wherever we want to go before we send them after our prey."

That peeked the other girl's interest, "What about Regina Regicider the first? She's rather... big," Lila leaned against her as she said that, appreciative hands running across Chloe's Miraculous enhanced shoulders.

"Regina, release," Chloe ordered and was obeyed.

The Sentimonster opened its mighty maw and unleashed a wave of golden energy into the sky, shrinking as they did so back to pocket sized where-upon it clambered up her arm to rest on her shoulder.

Lila chuckled devilishly, nuzzling Chloe's neck, "We make a perfect team, Gabriel won't know what hit him."

Chloe relished for a moment in the touch she had starved for from anyone for so long, even as a part of her tuned out how her own body felt like it should be responding more, differently. Her efforts to parse the blend of bafflement, lust, primal greed and genuine joy in Lila's mind was no simpler and she finally gave up as the Miraculous began to beep.

Regina obediently snatched it up and hid the magical item in its maw of steel.

Duusu reappeared and welcomed the remainder of Chloe's breath mints with a smile, while Chloe and Lila mounted up on Vulpin-X's back and Regina sat atop the foxes head alongside Duusu. As they took off across the roof-tops the pair discussed the beginnings of their plan.

"We can't go back to your apartment, it's been swarmed by my parents goons and reporters."

"Well we can't be too close to Agreste Manor, what if he senses the Peacock?"

"So we need somewhere to hide out."

"While Vulpin-X scopes things out."

Chloe smirked, "I know a place."

-

The fact that place was school and Lila was adorably huffy about it was icing on the cake, though it hardly stopped the brunette from leaning against Chloe as they both drifted off to sleep at their desk well before classes began.

Regina was safely hidden away out of sight in Chloe's bag and dozing like its master and Duusu, while Vulpin-X took to the streets of Paris, nothing more than a ghostly shimmer as it slowly made its way to Agreste manor as Paris began to wake on the dawn of a new day, in more ways than one.

Chapter 3

Caline Bustier arrived at work late, but she was hardly the only one feeling under the weather in the school alone. She’d arrived to find Olga fiddling with the keys and dabbing at her sweaty forehead along with several other exhausted looking staff members.

Caline could easily attribute her own symptoms to pregnancy and the utterly nightmarish day she’d had. For everyone else though… Well it was either a rapid and sudden flu on-set or maybe she was nott the only one miserably stressed by what happened the day before.

One of her students, yes one who had broken her heart a little, but still a child was struck down in a bloody display and Caline could, would never forget that horrific sight. But also the responsible one’s panicked and childish words, "I didn't- she was just- I thought- this was an accident!" said between sobs as her partner dragged away.

Chloe had never looked so terrified as when she was restored and Ladybug had never sounded so young and Caline... Caline didn't know what to do about any of it. Frankly it was all she could do to pull herself from her wife's cool and soothing presence because the kids might need her.

'If this sudden flu hasn't kept everyone at home,' she thought, passing by another teacher bundled up in three coats and shivering still.

Mind swirling as she tried to think about what to say about what transpired in the mayors office, everything came to a grinding halt as Caline opened the door to her classroom, "Chloe?" The name escaped her lips before she could stop herself at the spectacle before her.

Chloe and Lila of all people bundled up at one of the front desks and dozing atop one another.

Caline was frozen in place, genuine joy and dreadful uncertainty side by side inside her mind. Memories of trying to reach Chloe and failing, of what inspired her worry and the ensuing disappointment running wild. Let alone her own shame at being duped by the machinations of a fifteen year old in Lila and yet-

'They came here to hide, they are children, this is a classroom and... and I am their teacher.'

Resolve affirmed, Bustier stepped inside and despite her efforts to be quiet, Chloe shot up like a bullet, her bag rustling at her feet while Lila let out a keening whine and dragged herself up Chloe's body only half awake.

"Chloe I-" Bustier froze as Chloe's hand shot out.

The blonde stared her down intently, gaze strangely focused and familiar as she said, "Madame, I am glad to see you back," as if by wrote. "Yesterday's spectacle was... Unwarranted. I have not been myself for some time, and while it would have behooved you to notice, it was out of your hands." She swallowed, "I think it best that we try and run out the rest of this year in peace, no?"

Chloe offered Bustier her hand, with only a subtle sign of trepidation.

Bustier took it but did not shake, instead cradling Chloe's hands in her own.

"I appreciate you saying that Chloe and I just want to say how glad I am you're healed. I hope that we can both try for something better than merely passing the rest of this semester by, but any step forward we both take is a good one in my reckoning. Even if we stumble."

Chloe was watching her intently, her gaze flickered to her bag and back again before she squeezed back and nodded, "Well, let's see what the morning brings."

"Let's," Rising to her full height, Bustier added, "Now, can I fetch you girls something to drink?"

-

Adrien was exhausted, stressed and miserable, a far cry from radiant, carefree or dreamy.

He'd been lucky to have gotten any sleep the night before, not that it had lasted, anxiety and dreadful dreams of crimson red forcing him awake before even his father. Suffice to say, Adrien had opted against giving the man a pretext to keep him in and slipped out early.

Every day away from home might be his last after all.

Lingering anxieties about London, his fathers ever increasing ambitions and near mania were running in the back of his mind. But taking lead over them were the events of the day prior.

He knew, he finally knew Ladybug's true identity and it was Marinette, his girlfriend. He should be over the moon, it was everything he could ever want. To know that the person she’d been pining for so long had evidently been him? By all rights he should be ecstatic.

Save that he found out because a careless act of anger led to her accidentally killing someone. To that act being seen by millions. To her spiraling into a panicked tempest of guilt and dread, frantically trying to undo it and revealing herself to him in the process.

Adrien wasn't even sure Marinette realized she did it, he would have told her had he the presence of mind, would have confessed himself if he didn't fear it would only make things worse. Instead, after assuring himself Chloe survived he had to focus all his energy on keeping Marinette from fragmenting.

Hours spent cajoling, comforting and oh so carefully making sure she never had the chance to simply renounce guardianship to himself or Alya paid off with Marinette's memory still being intact if not her will. The Ladybug earrings now rested with Alya, convinced her friend had merely slipped up due to stress and sharing Chat’s view that Marinette should not, and frankly could not, surrender guardianship given how much knowledge would be lost.

He’d passed by the bakery as Chat Noir on the way into school and seen Marinette sluggishly being guided around by Alya. He could have gone in as Chat, but that would stress her. He could have gone by as Adrien, save he wouldn’t be able to explain himself.

So instead, he just left, and hoped he could see her soon.

Mind returning to the moment as Adrien walked up the schools steps, he remembered his first day, of all the expectations and hopes which had somehow both been fulfilled and others that had been left hollow as his mind drifted to Chloe.

His childhood friend turned... Not friend.

A girl who had been a constant companion until she wasn't, who his mental image of had shifted and broken over and over again across a single school year. Someone who he knew could be cruel, but also could never forget having stayed when his family fell apart and kept his head above water.

He had tried to find her, to call her, but it had amounted to nothing and if he had gotten through what would he have said, have done? He couldn't answer that question and a part of Adrien hoped he wouldn't need to find the answer just yet.

But it never rained when it could pour and as Adrien opened the door to class his feet felt like anvils as he saw Chloe and Lila of all people sitting on their desk. Lila practically snuggling up to a mildly perturbed looking Chloe as they both nursed warm drinks.

Both of them were also now staring at him intently, Lila’s expression one of mock amusement he was sure obscured annoyance. While Chloe’s expression fluttered wildly through an array of emotions he could barely place before she sculled her mug and returned it with a firm clink to the desk.

'Say something. There's nothing to say. Do something. There's nothing to do. I can't just do nothing!'

He tried to open his mouth but it tasted like bile and no sounds came out.

‘The girl I love killed her.’

It was an accident, he knew it was an accident, anyone with a brain could see it was an accident!

He looked at Chloe again, the image of her blonde hair matted and stained in crimson and gore-

Adrien looked away, a full body shudder overtaking him as he tried to quell the guilt and shame.

‘Did I cause it? I was upset with Chloe, I wanted her to just go away, to stop all this. Did my bad luck break the Ladybug’s good luck?’ Did he somehow will it to happen so he could consign his memory of her to a peaceful grave in his mind as he had done to his own mother?

Adrien tried to meet her gaze again, the memory of the day before, of the break, and the blood, and-

“Adrien,” Chloe finally said, her tone was… firm in the way cracking ice was hard and it forced him to look at her, as much as he could stand to.

“Chloe, I’m-”

She interrupted him, her words halting and stiff. “I apologize, for trying to get you thrown out of school, that was miss-spent effort at best.”

With that she met his gaze for a moment and then turned away, not huffy exactly, not even angry, not much of anything. Or more, too many things she barely seemed to be keeping under her skin as she glared a hole in the wall.

It was all so mundane and just… Strange that it actually buoyed him, for just a moment, long enough to finally gather his thoughts from the miasma of his mind.

“Consider it water under the bridge, things like that can come and go between us easily enough. I'm just glad you were healed after," he wanted to say accident, but settled on, "what happened yesterday."

She took his words and seemed to roll them around in her head before scoffing, "I seem to have a talent for drawing ire from powerful people."

The splatter of blood and brain was back, it all came rushing back to squash that small kernel of mundane relief. He wanted to say something, anything to quench the fire he could practically feel coming on, but he wasn’t Chat Noir right now. Who could ramble and amble and chatter through even the worst of circumstances.

He was just Adrien and he couldn’t find his voice.

So he retreated to his desk, faintly aware of Lila whispering In Chloe’s ear, lips trailing along tanned skin.

Chloe remained silent

-

Marinette kept her head down as she walked and tried to keep her ears closed. Alya, sweet, loyal Alya kept up a good amount of chatter on the most inane topics from their home-work, to the bakery’s goods. Even with her phone blowing up and doubtless endless drama and rage on the Ladyblog forums-

Alya bumped her hip against Marinette’s, “Don’t get lost in your own head now girl.”

Marinette swallowed, “Yeah, you’re right, I can’t lose focus for even a second, ow, ow, sorry!” Alya released her ear.

“Not what I said and going completely against what we discussed last night,” Alya pulled her into an over the shoulder hug. “You need to let yourself rest and re-calibrate.”

Marinette saw a flicker of bloody red out of the corner of her eyes and dug her hands deeper into her pockets leaning against Alya all the more, her words low.

“That’s easier said than done, especially with where we’re going, I mean, just imagine what everyone will be thinking and Chloe might be there! I mean I hope she’s OK, she is OK, I know she is but at the same time-”

“You’re not sure how to handle seeing her? I can’t say I get it like you did, but I get it. But hey she’s apparently still in the wind, so that’s… Something?” Alya ventured.

“Its worse!” She hissed. “At least when Chloe’s in front of me I’d know she was healed and could do something,” Maybe even say something but Marinette never got passed. I am sorry I killed you, I keep seeing it replay every time I close my eyes and feel really bad but it was an accident and you just make me so mad and I forgot I had super powers for a second and it was an accident but-

Alya gave her a companionable shake again and Marinette forced herself back into the moment as they marched up the steps and towards their classroom. Before they could go in however they were ambushed by Zoe and Sabrina, both girls looking as dreadful as Marinette felt.

Sabrina was flushed and pink and looked, frankly exhausted and like she’d been crying on and off. Ribs constricted against her chest in guilt. Zoe looked marginally better, her jacket was done up however and she looked pale and weary.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here,” Zoe murmured, “Are you OK? You look-” she caught herself and said “Under the weather,” while Sabrina fidgeted nervously at her side, be-speckled gaze drifting towards their class door and back again.

Alya spoke for her, “I don’t think a lot of us got much sleep last night, add in a cold and helping me cool down from ‘everything’ on the forums last night and we’re both kind of out of it.”

Marinette looked between the pair and filed in the blanks, “Chloe’s here isn’t she?”

Sabrina nodded, a choked sound escaping her lips, “She came here to hide even though she hates school. This is all my fault.”

Zoe wrapped an arm around the girl and pulled her closer, “Its not your fault everything’s a mess.”

‘Its my fault and I need to fix it, I just don’t know how!’

Every time she had tried to fix Chloe it blew up in her face, her mother, the macaroons, Queen Bee, the party, the movie! Did some of those even count? Marinette didn’t know anymore!

Perhaps seeing her spiral, Alya cut in, “Hiding, did something else happen? I mean, we saw your parents meltdown, are you OK?”

Zoe shrugged, “Its been… Enlightening. I really thought Andre was different than my mother, that he was just a poor guy she brow-beat into following her every whim.”

The, ‘& Chloe was spoiled as a result’ went unsaid as Zoe continued.

“But after seeing them tear into each other last night…” she bit her lip and shook her head, “Andre can look after himself. It seems like he’s good at that,” bitterness practically wafted off her words. “Trying to get him to find his recently revived daughter though? That was a no go and I gave up,” she shrugged and otioned at the redhead to her side. “I found Sabrina when looking for Chloe and we decided to pool our resources.”

Sabrina was hugging herself even tighter at those words, murmuring, “We should have kept looking.”

“Hey, we didn’t know she’d go to her of all people-”

“Well we should have-”

Marinette needed to stop the fight, “Well you tried,” her voice was cracking. “That’s the important thing, the effort spent, I’m sure she will appreciate that, probably, maybe. Definitely!” She stressed with as much enthusiasm as she could manage.

Both girls were looking at her strangely now, but even then their minds seemed elsewhere.

Marinette had to see inside that room, now.

She ducked around the pair and peaked inside only to start slipping under under her own discombobulation save for Alya grabbing her backpack. She pulled her back but not before Marientte caught sight of Adrien who looked so sullen it made her ill with dread. & more, saw Chloe, a rictus glare on her lips as she glared a hole in the wall. While snuggled up at her side like a viper coiling around its prey was Lila.

“Lila’s back?!” She nearly shrieked but kept it low, just a little, almost silent scream. “Wasn’t she expelled? Was she involved in what happened yesterday with the robots?” Could this all somehow be Lila’s fault, that would be nice, but Marinette wasn’t that lucky.

Sabrina and Zoe shared a mutual shrug before the redhead answered, “I don’t know, maybe, she’s done nothing but make things worse since she showed up and she still has her claws in Chloe.”

“Not for nothing,” Alya intoned gently, “but they were working together.”

“You don’t get it!” Sabrina rasped out, only stilling when Zoe clasped her shoulders and murmured something to the flushed face girl, who took several deep breaths. “You don’t though, I know, I know how people see Chloe, I know how… Intense she can be. But she never used to be… That intense. Not until Lila showed up.”

Zoe rolled her shoulders, “Apparently the closet was a new arrangement?”

The Non sequitur threw Marinette but Sabrina was building steam again, “We used to hang out, watch shows, play games, we were friends and things were actually getting even better for awhile. But then everything started going wrong, and this year turned into a nightmare.” Sabrina started sobbing again and basically collapsed against Zoe who looked equal parts worried, oddly used to it and put out.

Patting her back, Zoe added, “Look, I know you two don’t have any reason to like her but… I got a second chance at this school and well. If Chloe’s not run back to our parents yet, I think she might see what I do now. That mom’s not worth fighting for, her father can’t be trusted and that neither of them are people to imitate.”

Alya hummed, arms folded, “Well they did make asses of themselves, still are last time I saw the news, even Chloe could see that. But I’m not sure what you want us to do about it, we aren’t exactly Chloe’s favorite people.”

“We know,” Zoe assured, “But you two are brilliant and we thought you could maybe help us come up with a plan? I want to just go up to her and say like. Things can change, you can change, we can actually be sisters and not just our mothers imitators.”

Sabrina let out a hiccup, “I just want to tell her I’m glad she’s OK, but I don’t know if she’ll want to see me and… And…”

“You’re scared she’ll reject you,” Marinette murmured, entirely lost on what to feel. Her mind working in a dozen different directions as she tried to process all that and somehow not keep circling back tot he bloody affair that inspired it.

Zoe nodded, “There is that and with Lila there….I knew girls like her back in New York, even if Chloe sees how empty our parents are that liar still has her claws in my sister and will try and keep Chloe all to herself.”

Thing clicked into place, a solution, a plan, a something to do that could make things better!

Marinette grabbed both girls wrists and pulled them close, “So what you need is to get Chloe alone where Lila can’t trick her is what I’m hearing.” Both nodded uncertainty while Alya tapped her on the shoulder.

“Girl were we not just discussing how overwhelmed you’ve been lately, plus you and Chloe... There’s history there,” she finished uncomfortably.

Yes, history, years of bullying, resentment and a murder, but that was the past and Ladybug and not Marinette and this was something she could do, could fix, that maybe could make things better!

“Don’t worry Alya, this is-”

Madame Bustiers cheery voice cut off her thought., “Good morning girls,” Their teacher intoned gently as she stepped out of the door tot heir class.

“Madame,” Marinette’s voice may have cracked, “You’re back! I mean of course you’re back, I just mean its very good you’re back, I should ave brought you a cupcake!” Was she rambling it felt like she was rambling.

Bustier gently dabbed at her flushed brow and smiled serenely, “That’s quite all right Marinette, your enthusiasm is more than enough.” She looked to Zoe, “Ms Lee, I believe your class will begin soon, I promise to look after everyone in class, so you can rest easy and focus on learning.”

Zoe’s anxious expression and manner bled away like it was never there, “Thank you Madame,” she rested a hand On Serena’s shoulder, “I’ll be back when lunch starts.” Accepting a second clingy hug from the girl that both seemed unhappy to break, Zoe raced down the halls.

Bustier looked over them and gently patted Sabrina’s hair, “Alya would you mind showing Sabrina to her chair? I need to speak with Marinette for a moment.”

‘I’ve been had! Done-so! She’s knows!’ Marinette’s anxious mind screamed as she went stiff as a board, electricity short-circuiting her brain matter.

“Sure thing Madame, I assume you want to talk to Marinette about our returning redhead and recently resurrected blonde?”

Madame Bustier merely smiled placidly, an ever so subtle nod indicating Alya’s accurate assessment as she let the two girls pass her by before resting a gentle hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

‘This is about Chloe, who you killed, by accident but-’

“Marrinete, given everything that’s happened over… Frankly too long of a time, I understand if you will be uncomfortable with some of your classmates.” She gave Marinette’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I just want to assure you that Chloe insisted she intends to run out the rest of the school year in peace and that there should be no… Outside interference in our classes proper running and that. But if you have a problem bring it to me straight away, I will handle it, I promise.”

‘Oh, it was that kind of talk,’ Marinette’s anxious energy fled her body as swiftly as it arrived and she nearly felt like doubling over, her whole brain and body feeling fuzzy and tingly at the same time.

“Marinette are you feeling well?” Bustier asked urgently.

Perking up, Marinette grinned, “Just tired Madame and don’t worry I can handle Chloe,” Perhaps too well, or too terribly or not at all really.

Bustier squeezed her shoulder again, “You are a student its not your responsibility to handle these matters, leave it to me and just focus on yourself all right? You aren’t responsible for fixing every little thing.” She chuckled, “Leave some work for the rest of us OK?”

Marientte wasn’t sure if she could fix anything right now, but she did know that Bustier was wrong about one thing. It was Marinette’s job to fix things. She just needed to figure out how.

Still, she smiled warmly and answered, “Thank you Madam, I will keep that in mind.” -

Chloe’s sunglasses were a long time favored accessory.

Sturdy but stylish, they could be lowered strategically to protect from the bright lights obviously but also to convey everything from scorn to thoughtfulness if placed juuuust right. They also were large and dark enough that it was hard to tell exactly where she was looking.

An excellent way to avoid dealing with head-ache inducing eye contact, stare down a plunging neck-line but most of all, very helpful for eyeing Alya’s new accessories. The brunette gently guided Sabrina, Chloe felt her throat tighten at the sight but said nothing as Cesair led her towards one of the chairs at the back of the room. Chloe instead turned to the door, watching for Marinette’s arrival.

When the girl finally stepped through into class Chloe felt something dreadful un-clench in her chest at the sight of Marinette bereft her ear rings. Even as her nails dug into the desk as the flashing of a yoyo rolled through her memory, the last sound she heard before a crack and squelching of flesh and-

Chloe kept it bottled up and held back. Marinette and Ladybug could-

Lila was whispering in her ear.

“With your new power imagine all we can do to here,” she purred.

Chloe’s body vibrated at the other girls touch, sound and scent, but she kept herself still as ice, easy given her temperature felt like it was sinking with every moment even as something inside her roiled and ached.

Lila was still purring some seductive promise of petty revenge in her ear and Chloe stilled the brunette with a low rumble from her throat. Turning her attention ever so briefly to Lila she traced her fingers over her necklace and saw the Agreste Manor interior through her Sentimonster’s eyes.

“Don’t you think we have more important things to deal with than schoolyard feuds?” Lila pouted but quickly turned her attention back to the Amok with devilish glee.

Madame Bustier was beginning her lesson and Chloe forced herself to take a calming breath.

‘Her little cure did fix whatever Gabriel did to me, even if it was an accident that deserves a temporary reprieve from our little war.’ Once Gabriel was dealt with however Chloe knew there could only be a few ends to a war like theirs.

Treaty, surrender or mutually assured destruction.

It remained to be seen which they’d would pick.

NOTES:

I decided to finally say screw it and just publish it here and see what happens. There's a none virus version somewhere in my head too, but I kept bouncing between the cracky virus idea and the none virus version and didn't wanna write both and someone can use the framework from the virus AU for a none Virus one anyway.

[genericpuff]

Hey quick question.

How do you know if you should make a webcomic? I have this story idea that’s been floating around in the back of my head that I think could work well for a comic series. But the problem is I’m mainly used to writing screenplays and more traditional writing.

What I’m saying is, how can I tell if making a webcomic is worth it or if I should stick in my comfort zone?

I mean, there's no definitive right answer when it comes to "knowing" if you should make a webcomic. It really just comes down to you. Do you really like the medium? Do you feel your story has to be told within that medium to achieve its goals?

Same thing goes for whether or not it's "worth it", it really comes down to how you define that. For some people, simply posting their comics online to a few readers each week is worth it. For others, if it doesn't get into print or publishing or whatever have you, it might not be quite so justifiable to keep up with. Neither is better or worse than the other, both reasons are valid because it ultimately comes down to what we as individuals are trying to accomplish and what we define as "worth it" on a personal level.

I actually live on both sides of the spectrum right now because with Rekindled, posting it on Tumblr and getting all the great feedback and company through the audience it's gained makes it worth it. But that worth was defined by my expectations going in - I wasn't making Rekindled for money (legally I can't), I wasn't making it to get an Originals deal or anything of the sort, I was just making it because I found myself deadset on going through with it after months of it living in my head rent free, and so what I've gotten out of it as a result is very much worth it, all I was really looking for was maybe some other readers who would enjoy reading a transformative 'foe fiction' from a former LO fan and I've found those readers in spades simply due to the demand.

Time Gate, on the other hand, was something that I wanted for years to be a 'successful' project, defined more by actual tangible growth and gain. Because I came up with it as a kid, for a long time it was my "magnum opus" project, the thing that I wanted to see get turned into books and an anime and a video game and all those sorts of things as 'proof' of how good it was. Of course, I know now years later that those expectations were WAY too high and it resulted in me feeling incredibly depressed over it for ages. It made it hard to work on and even though I did have some readers, I didn't see it as "worth it" because my expectations were a lot higher than that of Rekindled's going in. But that was simply a matter of experience at that point, because I had been making original comics for so long, when I went into Rekindled I knew a lot more what I was capable of, what I wasn't capable of, and what boundaries I was willing to put down for myself. Even still, I do still want to return to Time Gate some day and when I do, I want to still treat it like a series I want to get off the ground as an actual published piece of work - it's just that this time around, I actually know how to make those steps and be proactive in my approach (and I know where to keep my expectations) which is certainly a perspective and skillset I didn't have when I was 15 LMAO

I will say, realistically speaking, it is a lot harder to pursue webcomics as a writer, because the reality of this medium is that most people who go into it are artists who learn how to write to make a webcomic, not the other way around. Unless you're willing to learn how to draw - which is a whole other skillset that requires years of work and patience - you're likely going to have to seek someone to collaborate with and - I cannot stress this enough - it's not going to be someone you simply find on reddit who's willing to work for free. Again, many of us as artists went into webcomics with a project already in mind, so most artists are already working on their own passion projects, trying to convince someone else to work on yours is just not realistic or fair. I'm fortunate enough to have @banshriek along for the production of Rekindled and even then I still pay for their contributions out of pocket, they're as invested in an LO rewrite project as I am (and thus they're given a lot of room to make suggestions in both the set designs and the writing), and I still had to carry the first 20ish episodes on my own before they joined along, i.e. I would still be making Rekindled if they weren't onboard, but having them is a massive help that's taken the comic to a whole other level in its artistic production.

But that doesn't mean it's hopeless! There's a lot of interest right now in webnovels and writing comic scripts is still a completely viable way to get into the comics industry if you're really interested in doing so (fun fact: before I was making comics, I wrote fanfiction! This is probably not shocking to hear all things considered LMAO) There's a reason Webtoons owns Wattpad now, webnovels are a no-brainer when it comes to adaptations to visual mediums, and webcomics have become part of that environment by extension. So at the very least, if you want to get your story out there, there are loads of ways to do it that don't require you to make a comic - but if you really want to make one, there are ways to get into that industry through writing in other ways such as pitching scripts to comic publishers and/or going indie with webnovels. Ultimately, if many of us webcomic creators stopped drawing our works, we'd still be coming up with stories to write, because that's what's really at the heart of these sorts of projects. So even if you can't get into comics right away due to lack of visual artistry, that doesn't mean it's off the table forever ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Sorry, that was a lot of rambling but I hope it helps ! Remember to keep your goals and expectations manageable, and most of all, write lots! You'll be doing it anyways regardless of whether or not you get into comics, so whatever value you see in getting into comics is up to you to determine! You don't have to know right away, it might be something you'll find along the way or have to adjust as you get more experience, but don't stop yourself from getting creative and messing around until you find out what works! You won't know if it was worth leaving your comfort zone until you try it <3

Good luck! (•̀ᴗ•́)و

[intothepast9]

queen of the playground

written for @pandalilymicrofics April 10 prompt "transparent"--wc 908

Pandora finally had her in person, and they had been chatting easily over boba for an hour. But she really had to do what she had been dreading ever since she matched with Lily online. Dorcas told her it was cute and she had nothing to be afraid of, but Regulus said he would have taken any such secret he had with him to the grave rather than admit it to a date.

“So you’ve been in Chicago since you were 10?” she asked.

“Yeah, went to college on the other side of the city, so I’ve been here for fifteen years at this point! I barely remember Hogsmeade. How are you finding the city? You said you’ve been here for two years?”

Lily had said she was shocked to learn they were both originally from the same small town in southern Indiana. Pandora had gone into her closet to bury her head into a shirt and scream when that that had come up in their conversation.

“Er, yeah, I moved here after college, and it’s nice to be in a bigger city.” Pandora swallowed. “To be fully transparent I think I remember you from Hogsmeade.”

Lily looked at her like she was trying to place her. At least she wasn’t running away, thinking Pandora had been stalking her for fifteen years. Not that nine-year-old Pandora wouldn’t have loved to do that… “When did we meet?”

“This is embarrassing,” Pandora said. “But that playground outside the elementary school?”

“God, I used to go there almost every day.”

“You were like the queen of the jungle gym, best friends with everyone. You would say hi to me sometimes, but I didn’t join in the games. I… er, I didn’t talk much then. But, god, it made my day when you’d talk to me.” Little Dora, the shy kid with no friends. And Lily, this bright force of intrigue and boldness, would sometimes talk to her. It made Pandora cringe just to think of it, and to realize that the same girl, fifteen years later, still seemed just as enchanting and beautiful to her. Really, late in her teens, when she thought of crushes she had had throughout her life, Lily on the playground had stood out to her, Pandora’s head having gone woozy every time she spoke to her, the clarity of the emotions of her childhood stark compared to the confused void of the emotions one expected to have on crushes during puberty.

Lily’s eyes lit up. “I thought your face seemed familiar! Your hair was lighter then, right?”

Pandora nodded. Her hair had been almost white until puberty, when it had gradually darkened to its current dirty blonde.

“I was so excited the couple times you spoke to me,” Lily admitted, and Pandora's hear leapt. “You were like this ethereal thing, almost a fairy, in my mind. But god, I hadn’t thought about that in years.”

“I thought about you every day until probably high school.” Why was Pandora admitting this? This was actually insane. “And then again when I started college and learned I was queer, I kept coming back to that playground.”

Lily looked at her for a moment. “I hope I don’t ruin anything in person,” she said. And Pandora’s head throbbed. Of course she shouldn’t have put that type of pressure on Lily. What kind of insanity was it to tell her something like that? Regulus was right; of course he had been right; she would always listen to him from here on out—

“I’m so sorry—I don’t think you could ruin anything. I mean, Jesus, I’d assumed you were married and had kids by now.”

“Who’s married by now?” Lily asked, incredulous.

“Like 70% of my graduating class? 75% of what would have been yours?”

“Oh gosh, I guess I’ve been out of rural middle America long enough to have forgotten what it's like there. It must have been hard to grow up queer...”

“It could have been better, certainly,” Pandora admitted, grateful that Lily wasn’t fixating on her confession. “I wasn’t out, to myself least of all, so it wasn’t that bad for me; people assumed I just didn’t have a boyfriend because I was unpopular. Things were harder for Regulus—he wasn’t out, but more people could tell, you know?”

“Oh my god! You know Regulus too? Sirius told me he’d moved here!”

“Yeah, we’ve close since high school and have been living together, and with our friend Dorcas who we met in college, for two years!” It wasn’t what Pandora had expected from this date at all—apparently Lily still knew Sirius, who had run away to Chicago in high school and who Regulus had reconnected with after moving away as well.

“What a small world! I guess we’re not that far from Indiana; it’s the place to move to.” Pandora hoped that all these old connections didn’t categorize her solely as a friend in Lily’s mind. But Lily looked up at her, and Pandora could have sworn it wasn’t just friendly. “I’m really glad to see you again.”

“Me too,” Pandora smiled.

“I’m actually starving if you’d want to get dinner,” Lily asked. Pandora’s heart sang. Anything to drag this out, anything to give her more time with Lily.

“There’s a Chinese place I love just around the corner,” she suggested. “Sure,” Lily said shyly. “Want to get it as takeout and go back to my place?”

[deebormzone]

Deeborm's Big New Year's Gamer Post!

Happy New Year!

Will it be a happy new year? Probably not. But as the Greek philosophers once wrote:

pls rember that wen u feel scare or frigten never forget ttimes wen u feeled happy wen day is dark alway rember happy day

And in the spirit of those wise words, here's some good stuff I've enjoyed recently, as well as some stuff to look forward to in the year to come.

Yet Another Steam Sale

It's been a long time since these sales have been anything special, but for Gamers like me, they're still good opportunities to scan for bargains.

I mainly look for indie games on deep discounts. Bonus points if they're relaxing. I'm an old man now, and if something on screen moves too quickly I panic and drop my mouse.

Wilmot Works it Out

The perfect game for me. You play as a happy square who puts jigsaw puzzles together and then has a cup of tea. I think there may soon be a too-close-to-home subplot about how Wilmot needs to go touch grass, but for now I am safe.

Webfishing

It's Animal Crossing but for fishing only. Also allows the player to talk to freaks online while doing the fishing. Very relaxing, and there's progression! Unfortunately fishing is dull so I can only do this for 5 minutes at a time.

Atlyss

I was pretty skeptical of this one despite hearing about how good an action RPG it is, but then it went on sale and I gave up trying to avoid it. Movement is fast and fluid! But you have to use that speed to skillfully avoid enemies. Harder than expected! Maybe I picked a bad class (rogue?).

Grindstone

I love Match-3 games! But it feels like nobody really makes them nowadays. The most popular one lately is, what, Huniepop? And I'm not usually about that life.

Grindstone isn't a Match-3 but it's close. It has the player drawing a line through colors of enemies, and then you get a bunch of points. Satisfying, but I wish they didn't use so much toilet humor. I hate that shit, literally.

Robo Quest

As part of my endless quest to find a Borderlands game that doesn't have Borderlands humor (see: toilet), I picked up this one. Great so far; despite the action it's fast and fun. Roguelites are favorites of mine since in those, even failure has its benefits.

Additional Gaming (Non-Steam Sale) (Real)

Palworld

I finally got an upgraded computer, so I can finally play this one!

I think I've finally grown out of Pokemon. It just feels dopey these days, and I suspect that's because it always was, I just never cared until now. But the disease (Pokerus?) still festers within me.

Thus, Palworld. It's been doing very well for itself lately! It's not really a Pokemon successor, but it does a lot of stuff with the concept that Pokemon won't do, and I don't mean the factory farming or automatic weaponry. Having your Pals use their powers to help with building and cooking really adds to the team-building feel of the game, while also reducing the tedium of base building.

Fallout 4

As part of my endless quest to find a Borderlands game that doesn't have Borderlands humor (see: toilet), here's Fallout again. I love the series but I've played it exhaustively. To keep things fresh, I'm trying the ultra hard Survival Mode, which should last about 10 more minutes before a roach kills me and I give up.

Against the Storm

This roguelike town-builder has had a bunch of updates since I played it last. For one thing, it's now possible to beat the game. I think.

There are also a bunch of new resources, like "tea". But it's not for drinking - the only use for tea is something called "treatment" at the "Tea Doctor". I don't know what that means, but the people in my settlement love it so much that I win games due to accumulated happiness. Until proven otherwise, I'll assume the Doctor pours it directly onto people's heads.

The Game Awards 2024

I got tricked into watching TGA again this year. I know it's going to be mostly crap, but I fall for it every time anyway. Fortunately they got the top shelf Muppets to attend this time.

I don't really care about the awards themselves. I'm mostly in it for the reveals. But there were some good ones!

Dog Game 2 is frankly astonishing. Team Clover's revival also means Viewtiful Joe could be back on the table as well, but I won't get greedy. This game will do for now, and I look forward to its release in 2035.

Project Century is also interesting. I don't know if it's Yakuza or what, but it sure looks like it. LaD Ishin was a lot of fun in its historical setting, and this could be similar.

It's a lot of fun seeing Balatro nominated for Game of the Year at the Game Awards (and elsewhere). The game industry nowadays is made of billion dollar projects worked on by thousands of people, all of whom get laid off five minutes before release. And this year, sitting next to them at the pinnacle of the medium, is one guy with a deck of cards.

The most dramatic depiction of this is the Game Awards GOTY medley, which is always a highlight of the show.

Nowadays the Game Awards gets more viewers than the Super Bowl, and here on the world stage is the main theme - and only song - from Balatro being played by full orchestra right next to fucking Elden Ring. That poor solo dev must feel like he's in a permanent, waking dream.

My one complaint about Balatro is that it means my beloved UFO 50, probably my own GOTY, got snubbed in every indie category. Mossmouth worked on that gargantuan collection for years and years, and deserved better. I hope it shows up again for a console release - it'd be perfect on Switch.

The Future Of Gameing

There's some good stuff coming up soon.

Firstly is Dog Game 2 (pirate edition). This will be short for an RGG game but I'm down for anything the studio puts out.

One day later is Civilization 7, which is currently PC Gamer's Most Anticipated Game.

This is actually a very big deal for me. I grew up playing Civ 2, back when you would earn fabulous AMVs for building world wonders.

And lately I've been playing a LOT of Civilization. It's the perfect old man game.

Of course Civ 7 screwed up the whole series formula and is going to be a lot more expensive, but that's true of any new installment of anything. It's possible the changes to core systems could actually make a more enjoyable game.

Also the playable leaders are getting real crazy. You get to be Machiavelli.

He claimed that his experience and reading of history showed him that politics has always involved deception, treachery, and crime. He advised rulers to engage in evil when political necessity requires it, and argued specifically that successful reformers of states should not be blamed for killing other leaders who could block change.

Speaking of which, the Switch 2 is likely to release this year.

I'm not too excited about having to buy another console. Nintendo hasn't been great lately - probably because they're getting ready for Switch 2 - so they'd need some solid launch titles to grab me. It would take either

A new 3d Mario AND a new 3d Zelda

or

Smash

In Closinge

This might be the year I get back to work on my own game, Evil Justice.

Right now, it's a story with 146,000 words, with about a four-hour playtime. I think it's the most successful project I've ever had!

But between the effort required and my demanding job, I've fallen off. Lately, though, I've been feeling some of that old drive... fingers crossed.

That's all for now. I hope everyone has a very good 2025! If I've learned anything, it's that self-esteem is the key, so make sure to treat yourself like a friend.

[youremyheaven]

Hey Girl, it's ethereal anon, and I hope that you are doing wellllllll and are healing ❤️❤️❤️

This will be a mahadasha rant cuz my life literally started with Jupiter Mahadasha 🤣🤣 and funnily enough I had the worst experiences in my life growing up (maybe because of Pluto in Capricorn as well) but I was lucky when I was the most miserable haha (Jupiter in 6th house effect probs) and as I told previously I'm am in my saturn mahadasha since 2022 and relatively I feel more at peace in saturn mahadasha (saturn in 3rd house) and honestly tropically I have a Capricorn stellium and 8h in Cap so I guess that influence has always made me a disciplined person, BUT recently there's this girl, she's such a narcissist and I knew her since plus 2 schooling and what's the odds of us ending up in the same uni and course, and honestly I've been working my butt off on mingling with thr professors, and she literally did that so effortlessly and I was pissed cuz I thought she lowkey be stealing from me. But then I remembered that she's probably not in her shani mahadasha yet and I at least ki I should work harder or change my ways anyways [it ended up being more of an observation than a rant but yesssssss]

idk what i should say in response to this 🤐

but as someone who has experienced a shani mahadasha, let me give u my 2 cents (obviously everybody experiences each mahadasha in a way that is unique to their chart and life circumstances)

if u do the work, u will see results

all the times in my life when i felt like i was being "punished" by the universe was when i wasn't doing MY share of the work

its important to take ACTIONS towards ur goals. this may look different for different folks. suppose u have a big grand vision, u need to break it down into small actionable plans or steps. maybe ur goal is to run an online jewellery business (just giving an example) but u dont know where to start. well, the most obvious thing to do would be to accumulate capital/funds for this business. if ur already working, try to find other revenue streams or investment paths, if ur not working, then find a job. basically get thinking about what u can do to make money. once u have enough money, u can watch youtube tutorials, take a free online course (or whatever else u need) to understand how to set up a business easily.

so there are things u can do every single day that will help u achieve ur Big Long Term Goal

and its VERYYY important to KEEP MOVING bc if ur not moving??? then what are u doing?? STAYING STAGNANT?? yIKES

so if there's anything u need to know about Saturn Mahadasha is that, u do the work and u will see results

please dont buy all that bullshit about "itll be harder, karma, saturn wants to punish u 😈😈😫😫blah blah blah"

UR the one punishing urself by not doing the work and expecting things to be handed out to u. ur not a goddamn nepo baby, get off ur ass and work.

what we blame on the planets is the result of our own doing<33 hope this perspective helps

[rikarimu]

⋆˚✿˖° - ft. CONNIE SPRINGER | contains: f! reader. unprotected penetrative sex. nsfw. au. aged up to 21. connies just so cute <33

author's note: excuse any grammar mistakes!!

you and connie were strictly friends. nothing more and nothing less. connie and you would flirt constantly, but he never seemed to think much of it and you tried to play it off to the best of your abilities. you guys were practically studying the same major when you met connie. he was really funny and helpful, especially when it came to some of the harder concepts.

ding!

connie: hey do you wanna study together tn??

you: sure what time

connie: 5? ur place cool? jean said that he has someone coming over tn

you liked the message in response. 5pm had rolled around quicker than you expected with connie knocking on the door. you open it to him, looking down at you with those big hazel eyes. you let him in, locking the door behind you. he puts his stuff down by the dining table and starts going through your fridge.

"so, jean still trying to get over mikasa?" you ask following him into the kitchen.

"yeah," he says as he pulls out the cotton candy grapes you have and some juice. "He'll be okay, though. I think it's fucked that mikasa slept with him just to piss off eren. she knew what she was doing."

"have you talked to her?" you ask jumping up on the counter, sharing the grapes.

"Sasha did. says she feels bad, blah, blah, ya know? anyways though, its the same fuckin thing every time." He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the juice.

you throw a grape in the air and try to catch it with your mouth, but you miss and it hits you in the forehead. Connie watches this and chuckles.

"here let's see if u can do it," challenging him by tossing a grape in the air for him to try. he moved too slow and it hits him in the head, bouncing off. you start laughing. he laughs with you too. you eyes catch and your heart skips because the way he's watching you. noticing you. you break the eye contact and put up your sarcastic demeanor to try and play off the sudden tension.

"so are we gonna do this statics homework or what?" you ask him, jumping down from the counter.

you take your seat at the table, opening your laptop, pretending that you don't notice him watching you. you blush realizing who it is that's staring at you. you've always had a minor crush on connie but never made a move since you guys were pretty close and didn't wanna ruin the friendship. Sasha, even eren (randomly), thinks u guys should go out but, again, you play the nonchalant card.

u check the time and its been about an hour and u guys have barely completed the first problem. one of you guys always breaks the silence to joke and sometimes, both of you will just completely forget about what you guys are working on. finally, you play-yell at connie.

"okay, I've had enough of your sick fucking jokes. can we please finish this?"

"my sick jokes! really, you're gonna pretend like you're not the sick fuck here!" connie jokes (again). you tilt your head and give him a look that he gets.

You guys sit in silence, while Connie begins to search for useful study materials online. You watch as he types on the keyboard with nimble speed, his eyes scanning the screen intently. You find yourself lost in his movements, mesmerized by the way his hands move deftly over the keys. Connie glances over at you and smiles. “Thanks for letting me come over today,” he says. “Yeah, it was nice of you to ask,” you reply, feeling yourself blush slightly. He sets his computer aside and leans in closer to you, and you let out a small gasp as he brushes his lips against yours. The action is so sudden and unexpected that you’re caught off guard, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lean into the kiss, feeling a rush of euphoria.

As you deepen the kiss, you feel his hands move to your thighs. You can feel how his big hands engulf the skin, gripping you a little hard as he lifts you out of your chair into his lap. As you straddle him, you hear yourself moan softly as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. You part ways, breathless and disoriented. You feel like you could drown in his eyes, his touch, his scent. Your hands slide up his chest, exploring the contours of his muscles beneath his t-shirt. You feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, syncing with your own rhythm. He pulls away slightly, his eyes searching yours with intensity. “What do you want to do next?” he asks, his voice rough with desire. You shudder at his words, your body buzzing with anticipation. “Fuck me,” you reply, your voice barely audible.

Your hearts races as he picks you up and carries you to your room. Once inside your room, you're flooded with sensations of excitement and anticipation. He guides you over to your bed, and lays you down at the edge of the bed. You're both too lost in each other's gaze to speak, but you know what's to come. As he leans in closer, your whole body is on fire. He brushes his lips against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You breathe deeply, wanting more.

Your fingers trail down his chest, down his abs, to his waist, and finally to his boxer briefs. Your hand slips inside, feeling his warmth and hardness against your fingertips, and you moan softly. He groans, pressing his lips to your neck again as he digs his hard-on into you through your clothes. You can feel his arousal against your thigh, and you shift uncomfortably. You want him, you need him, and you can’t deny it anymore.

You want him to kiss and lick and hold you tight. You’re burning up, and you can feel your body tremble with anticipation and desire. “Connie, please,” you beg, your voice low and husky. “I need you.” He looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness. “I need you too,” he whispers, before leaning in to kiss you once again. His hands roam over your body, exploring every inch of flesh on display. You feel yourself growing wetter by the second, your body responding to his every touch. Slowly, he undresses you, pulling off your clothes with deliberate care. You shiver as the cool air hits your exposed skin, but you don’t object. You’re entirely consumed by him, every touch and caress driving you further and further towards the edge. Finally, you’re lying there fully naked, your skin flushed with desire.

Connie is hovering above you, looking down at you with desire. He reaches out, tracing the curves of your body with his fingers, before leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles. You moan softly, your body arching into his touch as he deepens the kiss.

Your hands roam over his chest, his abs, and his waist, feeling every ridge and valley as he breaks the kiss and moves down your body. His lips brush against your neck, your collarbone, and finally down to your chest, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. You're lost in his touch, your body buzzing and aching with desire. You feel his hand make its way between your legs, slowly he inserts his middle and forefinger. Your body bucks and shivers uncontrollably at his touch, yearning for more. He pauses, gazing at you with lustful intent. “All wet, just for me. All of this, just for me,” he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

"Don't stop,” you plead, desperate for him to continue. He doesn't need to be asked twice, his mouth moving your breasts as his fingers continue to tease and pleasure your body. With each kiss, your desire grows stronger. Your body is on fire, wanting more of him. You reach your hand down his pants and begin to slowly jerk him off. “No, not yet,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Connie continues to touch you, teasing you, and making you crave him more and more. You feel your body tense and your breath catch in your throat. "Please," you whisper, unable to contain yourself any longer. "Please, just fuck me." Connie looks at you with a look of pure lust in his eyes, and you can tell he's ready to give in to your request. He pulls off his underwear and aligns his tip with your entrance. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with yearning. He slides almost all the way in. You grab the sheets and moan.  “‘s too much, Connie.” “You can handle it babygirl, as he pushes himself deeper inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched beyond your limits, but you’re loving every second of it. He starts to move in and out of you with a slow, seductive rhythm that drives you wild. You feel like you’ve never been so turned on in your life, and you moan loudly as he continues to drive his cock deeper into you. You feel your core ready to break. He lifts himself up, gripping your hips as tight as he can, watching as he goes in and out of you. He loves the view of you. Tits bouncing with every thrust, you gripping his arms, the sheets, anything to try and ground you. He liked how he had you, how stupid you got on his cock. Babbling and begging him to fuck you, to go deeper. But what he enjoyed most, was the way his name sounded every time you moaned it. It was him. He was making you feel this way. He wanted to be the only reason you moaned. The only reason you came. He moves his arms on both sides of your head, to go deeper, to feel your skin on his. You take this as an opportunity to dig your nails into his back and running your hands through his buzzcut. He feels the way your cunt is sucking and squeezing his cock, and all he wants to do is make you cum.

“I wanna see you come apart,” He says beginning to pick up the pace. You feel a new wave of pleasure wash over you.

“Yes, yes, I'm close,” you moan, his touches, the intensity of his love making. You moan as his lips on your neck and you're in love and desire. “Cum for me.” He’s grunting and kissing your neck as he plows in you. Your walls are buckling as he thrusts deeper and deeper.

”Please, Connie, please,” You pleaded, needing him to continue. Finally, your coil snaps and you’re screaming Connie’s name. He’s still thrusting relentlessly, leaving you drunk on pleasure.

You moan, gasping for air, feeling like you're flying high. You can feel his muscles contracting, his release building up inside you. “Please fuck me, Connie. Don't stop, ” You beg, your eyes are closed, in a trance of pleasure, not knowing where your hands are, but they're probably cradling, caressing, feeling him up. ”I'm so close.” Connie says, and you feel him twitch inside you. You can feel the pressure building up inside of you, and you're getting close to climaxing again. Your body is tense, your muscles tensing up as Connie pounds harder and harder into you. Connie's eyes lock onto yours, and you feel your heart skipping a beat. You're in awe at the sight of him, lost in his touch and the way he fills you up, feeling the pleasure in your body. Connie looks down at you with a mix of lust and love.

He leans in for another passionate kiss, his lips pressing against yours eagerly. He tenses, feeling him twitch again and you both cum at the same time. You feel his hot, white stripes fill you up as Connie continues to still deeply thrust into you as you ride out your highs together. He pulls out and lays down next to you. Your hearts are still racing, and you're both panting and sweaty from the intimate encounter. "Wow," he says, still feeling the after effects of your pleasure ride. You pat his chest and sit up, beginning to get dressed.  “Thanks for that,” you say, feeling embarrassment creeping up on you. 

Connie chuckles and stands up, “You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it,” Connie says.

You continue to get dressed, feeling embarrassed and guilty at the same time. You're not sure how to feel about what just happened. On one hand, you're incredibly turned on and satisfied. But on the other hand, you're also feeling a sense of guilt and embarrassment. Connie seems to sense your discomfort and gently pulls you into a hug, holding you close. "It's okay. You don't have to worry about anything right now," he says softly.

“You don’t want to head out?” You ask him confused, assuming this was all he wanted with you. “What? Do you want me to leave?” He asks looking a little hurt. You feel a stab of guilt in your heart. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you” He looks at you with a smile. “You didn’t. I’m just confused is all. I’m not sure what your end goal is, Connie.” You replied, trying to understand and explore your feelings and emotions towards him. “I like you. I’m not sure about like labels yet, but I’d like to see where this goes,” he says, searching your face for what you’re thinking.” You nod. “I’d like that too.” You smile at him and kiss him.

[whumpdyke]

Whumptober #1:

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

——————————————————

“C’mon sweet thing, this one will be easy.” Whumper cooed, so much closer to Whumpee’s face than they’d thought he was. They shifted back with a small animal sound of fear before their face was grabbed harshly and pulled once again close to their captor. “No, no giving up. That’s a bad habit, there’s no space for that here. Just try.”

Whumpee nodded softly as well as they could between the clenched fingers pushing into their cheeks. Maybe this one would be easy. In the dead dark before their eyes, covered securely with a blindfold, they saw little spots start to dance. They’d be unconscious again soon, and that brought a soft breath of relief. When this had all started, that realization have would bring a full blown panic, but by now they knew that it was the one way to secure peace. They might as well try before they faded away again.

“Good, that’s perfect.” Whumper’s hand moved up to pet their hair gently, ignoring the shaking that it brought on. “Okay, you ready?”

“…Yes.” Whumpee’s voice was hardly a whisper.

“Alright, sweet thing. How many fingers am I holding up?” Whumper asked. Gentle and clearly expectant of an immediate answer.

Fresh tears started to soak Whumpee’s blindfold and they choked down a sound of protest. They tried to feel if Whumper’s hand was still on them, if they could feel and differentiate between the folded and outstretched fingers, but the hand was gone from their hair and all they could see was black, black, black.

“I…I don’t know.” The last word was choked and desperate. Whumper tsked softly and then sighed, clearly disappointed. Whumpee’s blood ran cold.

“You said you were going to try this time. You just have to think, I know you can count. I’ll give you another try.”

Whumpee’s mind reeled, the dancing spots making their reappearance as their breath caught again and again. They didn’t know, they couldn’t see, didn’t this psycho see the fucking blindfold, they’d been in the dark for so long for so so long and there was no light or fingers or numbers or anything except the blurry spots and their own blood rushing inside their ears and…

“Th-three.” They guessed.

“Hmm. That’s wrong, sweetheart. You really need to be making more of an effort, this is getting embarrassing for you.” Whumper sounded genuine, truly disappointed and Whumpee couldn’t take it. They hated this stupid game and this fucking monster making them play it and they just wanted anything but this darkness and pain. Whumper spoke again, “What do you think is a good punishment to encourage you to work harder next time?”

An involuntary noise, pure anguish and fear, clawed its way up through Whumpee’s throat and they shook there where they sat on the hard, unforgiving floor.

“God, you’re too stupid to even think of one, huh? I guess it’s my job again. You really could pick up the slack sometimes, you know.” Whumper chastised, and Whumpee heard the sound of a metal tool scraping against a tray that they knew must be blood soaked by now. And they couldn’t even pull together the will to scream.

Note: This is my first time participating in Whumptober or really writing whump at all! I’ve done quite a bit of personal and academic writing but have never put anything online, so I’m looking forward to participating this month and reading other people’s work. I hope you enjoyed! :)

[phantomdoodler]

The one addition I'd suggest is that the same things really aren't possible for everyone, but that doesn't mean that machine slop will be any better.

I'm dealing with an honest-to-goodness brain injury and brainfog and anemia and all this other shit that impacts frontal lobe function. It makes it harder to string words together, harder to put them in the right order. On bad days, it's been painful to focus on even processing words - spoken OR written. My email-centric desk job was exhausting me to the point that I was passing out every evening and had no strength left to feed myself most days.

And gen-AI auto-composers still would have been 100x worse at my job than me. I definitely made more mistakes than I would have with my full brain online. I missed things I wouldn't have otherwise. I spent a lot of grueling effort (not to mention overtime) on tasks that used to be minor annoyances at most.

Because you know what humans can do? We can go back and correct our own work. We can consider our customers' and coworkers' context to find the most effective way to work with them. We can be sympathetic. We can COMMUNICATE.

Language learning models can be great when used correctly. Hell, I'm trying to build a linguistic corpus of song lyrics in my free time JUST FOR FUN. But all they do is store data and calculate probability. Find the most common denominator given the provided parameters. Patch together a vague average of human language that approximates meaning.

But this is not communication. It does not understand meaning. It does not not understand people. It will not consider all your past interactions to infer your priorities to make good suggestions or manage your expectations. It won't clarify its explanations based on its knowledge of you as a person, it will only say what you tell it to say in a few more words. It won't go back and double-check it's work and look for errors and explain discrepancies. It won't apologize when it makes a mistake and it won't advise on how best to course-correct (based on your individual circumstances, no less).

We turn to machines where people have failed us. Where people haven't failed us but are more expensive. Where people require thought and effort. But the thought and effort is not an afterthought that can be outsourced, it's the thing itself. It's the thought and effort that helps you understand others and understand how to help them. How to support them. We turn to machines where people have failed us. But the machines are not doing a better job.

the scariest thing about the generative AI thing is how quickly people have accepted it as an indefinite, irrevocable part of their reality. people have genuinely convinced themselves that ChatGPT is the only solution to most tasks - tasks they did with their own brain without any large effort two years ago. like you know damn well all of us used to write emails ourselves why are we pretending like this is an impossible task to do with your own two hands. what's with the fucking. AI revisionism. i feel like i am going insane.

[foxfurbs]

yay for impulse purchases i certainly have had some. reset button misadventures. but this little guy is cute i like him :) if you don't recognize it the brand is pixel petz (which seems to also be the name of an online game or website. hm) i think there's only two variants this guy and a dalmation. imo the corgi is much cuter. i think they have customization potential tho if just with paint. not sure how long they've been around for but he was marked down a little bit i think i got him for like $12?

i was expecting it to be a "push button and it makes noise” type toy (it is also that,) which would mostly just live on a shelf and i just picked it up cause it looks cute, but was surprised it's actually a vpet game :D definitely for real little kids so it's very simple and easy as far as i can tell so far but it's cute i'm enjoying myself.

probably just talking to myself here but that's fine lol.

the game has several stats, including the two shown on the stats menu (happiness and energy), which are replenished by playing games or interacting by petting or using the "talkback" feature (it barks back the same rhythm and pitch as what you say. cute), and the other menu/interaction options including food, spa, potty, and health. the latter each give you a list of things to select from which display an animation and increase one bar of the stat. i've only had it on for about an hour but i haven't seen any of them go down yet so it seems to take a long while, which is kind of unfortunate ‘cause if the meter is full the pet will ignore attempts at interaction with that menu.

the instructions say the pet will alert when a meter is getting low and enter basically a sick mode (resolved by petting 10 times) if it's ignored, but as that seems to take some time i haven't seen it yet. they have different personalities based on their current care stats, similar to the 2010s era furbys (do connects do that? i don't have a connect i don't know.)

there's four total games; two unlocked at the start (shooter and catch) and two unlocked by playing (runner and air toss). i have three unlocked while typing this. the games display a win animation after 3 successes and you have 6 hp; there's no win state so the only way it ends is by backing out of the fail state.

shooter is like simplified brick breaker for babies; it's harder to lose than to win honestly lol. catch you have to catch a bone falling from the top of the screen; it's the hardest of the 3 i've played bc the bone and basket have to be lined up pixel perfect so there's actually a bit of a challenge as an adult. tbh i can see myself just playing that one for fun sometimes. runner is similar but there's stars to catch and other things to avoid and if either touch the rather large hitbox at all it counts as a catch. you can also jump in that one but i forgot to try doing that. air toss seems to be a game of keep-up.

multiple pixel petz can interact with each other but i only bought one so i don't know what they do. seems like maybe they just link so if you interact with one it also triggers a reaction in any others that are connected?

it came with a string with a clip as well but i couldn't figure out what you're meant to do with it; there's a spot on top of the head that looks like you could loop it through but at least on mine the knot on the string is too thick to fit. the clip is also super flimsy so i wouldn't trust it to hold up an electronic toy anyway but if that is a spot for that to hang i think being able to clip it onto a bag is cute

the buttons and touch response seem to mostly be pretty good; on mine the right ear occasionally sticks and makes it scroll through the menu on its own and they can be a lil hard to press but either of those could be due to the uh. pencil led and plastic stuck in there from me trying and failing to hit the reset button,,, petting is done with a sensor on the top of the head that i'm not quite sure if it doesn't register 100% of the time or if you need to do it while there isn't already another non-rest animation playing. nose button and mic seem decent.

it also has volume control! which is always good. there's 4 levels including mute, and even the highest level doesn't actually seem to be too loud which i'm sure is nice for parents lol. it does emit a very noticeable (to me anyway) lcd pixel screen movement high-pitched noise, but that's to be expected and again the loudness of it might be do to my own accidental damage lol whoops. it's not too bad anyways though

i also happened to start recording right as he turned one year (hour) old and we got a little present :] happy birthday to him

[frostyclove]

for a tuesday ; theres been quite a few protests. LA looks a mess, once again not due to the protestors but due to the handling of the cops; saw footage of at least 20 people 1:1 lined up on a wall by cops. frankly, disgusting and looks like a scene out of miracle day which is my way of saying.... just about as bad as it can get in terms of governmental abuse. there was some looting; most of it happens because ALL the socal cops are dealing with the protests. they do not all need to be doing that. but they are making it very clear they are all doing that ; so a handful of looters are taking the gap time. frankly its expected and they know that will happen and are using it intentionally to twist the narrative.

new york is doing well, huge protests. nice calm and collected. keep eyes on that one after. know people are going to flip about it online ; this specific protest was already causing cracks in solidarity but dont let it just try your best to keep people safe and realitisically dont just let yourself get arrested ; if its a case of 'safe to get arrested' vs ' less safe to get arrested' then let the safe person but on the whole avoid it if possible we need people for as long as we can realistically

cute idea im seeing - wear a cute little costume. tinker bell. pikachu. doctor who? mario. maybe not luigi you might get shot for that but do it if you want ig. scooby doo. wear actual clothes underneath of course. try to keep it cute costumes not horror ones again thats the kind of optics that actually matter not fucking flags (like dont have a bloody costume i feel like thats common sense). then you get opsec protection and a few extra layers to protect from tear gas or the like - just know that might entirely ruin the costume

IF YOU GET ARRESTED OR ANYTHING DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING UNLESS YOUR LAWYER TELLS YOU TO. YOU CAN AND SHOULD GET A LAWYER EVEN FOR FREE IT IS A RIGHT EVEN FOR NON CITIZENS

genuinely ; if you have ever played TWD S3 - that is what LA looks like. its not like the protestors are the probelm by any means. theres just. cops. everywhere. and not like 'big city' cops. like, 40-50 on every street surrounding the protests. its chill af. but its dystopian. like im trying to explain that la is fine but its basically been fucking occupied by cops. its really really odd to describe.

portland is sick af as always and is protesting in medieval wear (big ups portland protestors theyre cool as hell every time

There are now more U.S. troops deployed to Los Angeles than in Iraq & Syria. There are 4,800 activated Guard and Marine personnel in LA, compared to the 2,500 troops in Iraq and 1,500 in Syria.--ABC News

im gonna be so serious while looking for more info i just keep scrolling by marvel posts and i must say GO AWAY MARVEL I DONT CARE YOUR TIME IS OVER FUCK OFFFFFFFFFFFFFF I DONT WANT YOU AND YOUR DOD MONEY. i hardly tolerate dc content right now why am i meant to care about marvel, the objectively worse comics that have been oversaturated so hard its leaking back out of the ground. the dirt does not need more marvel its full up go away.

we need a hashtag or something or maybe we dont i cant figure out if the information being findable for assist or hiding it is better at the current situation. need anarchos and non anarchos to come to a consensus there otherwise either option will be ineffective.

theres a bunch of ai footage going around. so. thats gonna suck in the coming years as it gets harder to tell. theyre just gonna straight up have fake videos to back up their narrative. rude as hell

cops shutting down the freeway again... to prevent the protestors from shutting down the freeway. read that again and tell me if it makes sense

its pretty much the same as the last few days - protestors are chilling, kids hanging out, pets being walked, people with food carts and music and mariachi bands - then cops show up; shoot a fuck ton of 'less lethals' at them, tear gas them, physically charge/run into and over them, arrest a bunch of people, rinse repeat. itll get worse as the sun goes down; but as i said a few days ago its like vampires. cops are just braver then, less camera footage, stuff like that. keep an eye on your local areas and see if they need anything in terms of bodies just to support them or food or water or respirators stuff like that. look out for each other type vibes.

[jodilinbio]

Part 44

Early 2010:

Tom has been laid off for nearly 17 months. I appreciate not having to worry about him being on the road so much and enjoy seeing him have more time for the things he loves. But even though we get along well, having him home all the time is getting old. It’d be nice if he could find a job, even if it didn’t pay much or come with insurance. With our online jobs, we’d only need something part-time.

Thinking back to our adventurous days, we once boldly moved to Oregon, then to California—jobless and homeless—which nearly did us in. Sometimes, if you want out of a burning room, you’ve got to charge through the fire headfirst, not that we were necessarily in a burning room. But each long-distance move has been harder than the last, so I think it’s time to retire that adventurous side I never knew I had until I met Tom. It was fun and a learning experience, but one can only walk a tightrope so many times before falling too far to get back up. Even though the winters here are a bit colder than I’d like (it’s snowed a couple of times since we’ve been here), I love the woods. In Arizona, the flat, open land meant you could hear loud car stereos from miles away. Here, I love the hilly terrain and all the trees, even if neither cacti nor palms are native to this area. I miss the desert at times, and I sometimes think it’d be neat to live in a tropical place, but for now, it looks like we’re staying put. No guarantees, but that’s the plan. At least for now.

I’m trying to become a more forgiving person, though I know I’m not alone in struggling with this, despite all the talk of forgiveness out there. While I’ve mostly moved on from the anger I felt toward my sister, I still don’t know that I can forgive her. And I definitely can’t forgive those who created the “evidence” that cost me half a year of freedom, time with Tom, thousands of dollars, and untold degradation, anger, and fear. Forgiving people who don’t believe they’ve done anything wrong is a challenge, to say the least.

Late 2010:

There are only two hours left of 2010 as I write this. I decided I would update this bio at the end of every year rather than wait a few years. It’s easier to remember things that way and a lot seems to be happening to me at the same time not much is happening.

We still live in the old trailer on Jesse’s land. This is the longest time in the three rentals we’ve rented since we left Arizona. Jesse still drives me crazy at times too, with his dogs and his loud vehicles. But it still beats the city. Jesse’s now out of work, so that means we hear more of him than his dogs. And I don’t mean home as in fired or laid off. He hurt his back, so he told us, and is trying to retire or get on disability.

On Christmas Day of 2009, I was chatting with Marie. Had someone told me I’d be chatting with Maliheh of all people on the next Christmas I never would’ve believed it in a million years. Yeah, for me California’s definitely been the “state of reunion.” And a place full of surprises despite its disappointments.

I first found Maliheh on Facebook last May. I messaged her the day after her 53rd birthday, though I didn’t know at the time that the previous day was her birthday. My intentions at first weren’t to be very nice. I didn’t care to bully or harass her, I just thought I’d “surprise” her, so to speak, and casually drop my journal link on her.

I said something to the effect of, “Remember me? From the Deerfield/Northampton area in 1991? You were 34 at the time and I was 25. You weren’t very nice to me either.”

At the time I didn’t plan to ever contact her again, and as expected, I didn’t receive a reply from her.

Just two weeks later in early June, someone started harassing me on a site called Formspring where people can ask questions in total anonymity. I thought it was a neat idea and would be interesting to see what questions people hit me with. They were nothing out of the ordinary at first – what’s my favorite color, what’s my favorite movie, what chore do I hate the most…

It was soon clear to me that the person not only kept regular tabs on my journal but that they had personally known me at one point in my life.

My first thought was that it was either my sister or one of my sister-in-laws. But knowing it just wasn’t any of my SIL’s style, I quickly dropped them as a possibility.

Maliheh and Andy were next on the list. Especially Maliheh since I’d recently contacted her. I figured she took the time to comb through my journal and then decided to play around with me, even if she too, seemed like the serious, no pranks type.

At this time I believed Andy and I would never be friends again because he couldn’t “forgive” me for this tape of his he was so sure I had.

Either way, the “questions” kept coming.

Why is your husband such a lazy bum he can’t find a job…?

Does Tom fart more now that he’s gained weight…?

I hear you want a dog. How are you going to feed the mutt when you run out of money…?

Why did you marry a man if you haven’t been with a woman since 1992…?

Don’t you think you deserved to go to jail and pay for those you harassed over the telephone…?

This last question had me suspecting Maliheh most of all as it did not seem like anything Andy would ask.

And so I began not only doing more research on her but also sent her an accusatory message, warning her to knock it off and to never contact me again.

I went a step further and friended some of Maliheh’s friends. Not to say mean things about her, but to learn about her through them because I was curious about her, as I realized that ironically enough, I still had a crush on her. Yeah, despite our past problems and her so cruelly breaking my heart even though she never quite had it to begin with, I’d wondered about her from time to time throughout the years. I didn’t understand why I’d still have a thing for such a bitch 19 years later, but I did.

All I learned, before she contacted her friends and had them unfriend me, was that some guy used to play drums for her.

I remembered her being into the guitar, but that was pretty much all I knew about her other than that she quit smoking before we met and made me feel led on even though I didn’t handle it well back then being young and all that.

Still pissed over being “dumped” nearly two decades ago and convinced that she was the one harassing me, I deliberately badmouthed her in my journal (never using her full name) just in case she cared to check it out, though I doubted she cared, and I had no way of knowing either way at the time. Or if her friends would read along and end up turning against her for it, another thing I would later come to feel guilty over.

I even got a story idea with us as lead characters and thought it’d be funny if I sent her bits and pieces of it to read on Facebook, and also via email, now that I knew her two email addresses.

I pleaded in my journal and on Formspring for the person to identify themselves. I wasn’t scared, but I was a bit nervous. Especially before I knew what their true intentions were. But I sensed that I would eventually learn who they were. After a few days, the questions became less mean and it became more obvious that it was Andy.

And it was.

Andy, who I eventually spoke on the phone with and swapped emails with, had asked me the question about deserving to go to jail for the calls to throw me off his scent, and it worked.

At first, I was hesitant to bother with him for condemning me on how I handled my mother-in-law and basically defending the sickos that victimized me in Phoenix as well. I was not only shocked that he would take their side, but it especially shocked me because he himself was in jail if only for a day. He told me it was an experience that opened his eyes to the fact that he was a very angry person and needed to calm down. This was after he quit smoking pot and was dealing with withdrawal. He pranked some younger guy that was interested in him. I guess it wasn’t that Andy wasn’t interested back, he just didn’t like some things about the guy. And then one night they got into an argument over the phone.

“See that blue car parked on the street?” Andy had screamed at him. “Well, I’m in it and I’m watching you!”

Meanwhile, Andy had no idea there was really a blue car there. But the guy was not only terrified enough to spite him for that one but also because he was angry for having been rejected and so he went a step further by saying he tried to fondle him.

Andy spent the day in jail and did a year of probation. He felt the judge judged him before he even got a chance to have his say. This was why I was a little shocked at his defending my perps when he himself knew what it was like to be legally victimized.

After we both got some things off our chest and he agreed not to judge me for the way I live my life and handle things (though he wouldn’t keep his word), we’d continue to have fun on Formspring, only in a different way, as well as on Twitter where he would tweet his “tour dates” with his imaginary Fire Flies band, a game he’s been playing for decades.

I will admit that while it’s nice to be in touch with Andy again, who has since moved back to Springfield, so I was shocked to learn, it only made me feel bad for Maliheh. I really thought it was her for a while, even if it didn’t seem like anything she’d do from what little I knew about her. A part of me was bummed that it wasn’t her, for I kind of liked the idea of getting attention from her, even if it was in an unexpected and unusual way.

I also learned that Andy quit smoking both cigarettes and pot. He was so pissed that I could tell he was high (and said so in my journal which he had quietly followed for about a year before jumping out at me on Formspring) when he left some voice messages a couple of years ago that it’s part of what motivated him to quit nearly two years ago. I was glad to be of help!

He quit smoking cigarettes in 2002 and, having a harder time handling the heat, moved back east to a condo that is next to his mother’s condo in 2007. He’s still single but is doing well financially. He even owns his own cleaning business. I am both surprised and happy for him! He hates the cold and the snow but likes having his family around and the universal healthcare that Massachusetts offers.

[icedsaltedcaramelcoffee]

i keep seeing clips from the l3 ss3raf!m documentary and maaaan i have thoughts

i don't think they realize that they are shooting themselves in the foot. Like i obvs feel that they have the right to express how they feel and hardships. Also, i know the entertainment and esp the idol industry play up/dramatized, but at the same time le sserafim isn't special.... like chaewon being on ivs when it feels that is a news story each week for another girl in a girl group. which is terrible(!), but not unique. like the girl group hate train has went after other groups and you don't see them locking comments and all that.

Not that they should leave hateful comments up or not turn them off, but at this rate they should leave them turned off. like the haters are still making videos shitting on them. like i think hate is bad and antis are stupid for the record.

Also, sakura saying shes upset people are saying she improved instead of just being good or whatever. which i get it since it is a back handed compliment, but some of those performances werent great and ngl i do expect a lil more from her since she has been an idol for so long. She should know how the industry works at this rate yknow. commenting that shes getting better not good is hurtful, but i dunno man

Also, yunjin being upset that people are throwing her own words at her is so ??? "I want to change the idol industry" like yes kpop fans are too stupid to realize change wont happen overnight, but at the same time i was expecting her to try and tip the industry a bit more. Again, tho she is a part of a big label so lets be real, how much would actually change. I also think since yunjin is chronically online, for worse, is/was/is exposing herself to the hate more.

I think their concept of trying to be like badass girlboss' also makes seem something? like thay had fuck off haterz songs and they are antifragile and shit. like i dont want to seem like im downplaying the girls work and the hate, i think they work hard and people arent realizing they are people, but this documentary seems so mhm a choice. it def feels like hybe/source music is trying to get pity points instead of whatever they think it was supposed to bring to the hate mob. i think le sserafim is brave for sharing this side of the industry and themselves, but also i feel the label should be doing more. giving them more breaks, changing the music to actually fit their voices, choreo that allows them to sing and dance, and so on. like im blaming the label more for allowing this to happen and pushing them to be under these circumstances than the girls themselves. they are the ones having them perform their songs out of their range then saying fuck em when they have to do it live.

again the haters are using clips of them almost collapsing or eunchae hyperventilating with text like "man all that practice to sound like that" or worse. even the subtitle "make it look easy" when people were saying that derogatorily like....i don't think higher ups thought about this fully and this is just going be worse on the girls. like some of the quote retweets were so rude and hateful! they are gonna read those comments and feel worse!

Again, i don't think the girl's deserve the hate they got. They had some shitty encores and live performances. both can be true at the same time which has happened to most groups at one point or another. i dont think le sserafim cant air out their problems or how they feel or whatever, but making it seem its only a le sserafim issue is crazy!

i mean i want the best for the girls and hope they are able to move past it, but unless their next cb is a banger i fear its just going be a cycle of this shit. like i feel like the label is making things harder for them.

lmao to add to a longass post already i guess they have been making documentaries for a while, i didn't follow them that closely, so its not strange for them releasing another, but man i wish they put a lil more thought into it. like i just feel like fans feel for the girls while haters are doubling down not really turning the tide like they maybe hoped. tbh i only see the hate dying down once a new group is here to hate (sadly).

cannot stress enough i have no ill will toward the girls and what them to be successful and they do not deserve hate. hate and constructive criticism is to completely different things.