#which now seems naive but like. it had been months! and when i checked on my SSA account it said there were no overpayments !

[clementiens]

i'm in the every-3-years medical review for ssi and it's stressing me the Fuck out

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Perspectives

marshmallow floof plot: Megumi recalls you and Gojo falling in love through his eyes. content: fem! reader, megumi is in denial about caring about Gojo, Gojo is obsesseddddd with you shamelessly, but its okay because so are you with him! warning!: megumi is not good with emotions :/ or tolerating Gojo word count: 5.7k satoru gojo x reader note: can we pretend utahime and gojo are the same age pls and thank u - also i am delusional and in my head suguru did not defect so gojo never had to go thru all of that okay <3333 anywau i hope you enjoy!! put a lot of thought and love into this!

At only six years old, Megumi was already quite intelligent. As an extremely perceptive child, he understood far more than he should have at such an age. Typically, kids his age were naive and gullible; Megumi however was the complete opposite, and that was partially due to his aloofness.

When Satoru Gojo first met Megumi, he felt like he was talking to a grandpa in a miniature body, sassing anyone who dare interact with his little self. As stern and as gloomy as the boy persisted on to be, though, Gojo picked up on hints of tenderness and compassion laced between every word Megumi spoke about his sister, Tsumiki. Easily, Gojo could discern what he deemed too much deeply rooted pain and defensiveness in the young Fushiguro. Having his guard up was engraved into his mind; the wall he placed between him and the world had it's own sector in his immune system and acted with automaticity, an innate defense mechanism.

Despite all of the anguish intertwined in every breath Megumi exhaled, and despite his cold nature he employed to protect himself from being hurt again as he has before; despite being abandoned, and despite not being surprised he was; despite not even hitting double digits, yet already carrying the attitude of a the wisest owl; despite all of the thoughts racing through Gojo's head, he knew Megumi was special. Though a part of it may have been due to the responsibility he felt over the boy after murdering his father, Satoru Gojo was confident in one thing: he would take care of this kid like his life depended on it.

From then on, Gojo took the role of Megumi's benefactor, funding him and his sister so that they could live without worry. Megumi begrudgingly allowed him to endow his life, though it was rather difficult. The guy was so over-the-top and bothersome when he decided to actually go and physically check up him. Visits from were sparse, though, if Megumi really cared or needed anything, Gojo was always a text away.

And soon he would learn that you were, too.

The first time your existence was brought to Fushiguru's attention, it was mildly unintentional on Gojo's end. He was completing his routine check-in on Megumi about six months after taking him under his wing, ensuring he was doing fine in school - other than the fights he found himself in every now and again, of course. And after everything checked out okay, he rambled on about his week and how exhausting it was being the strongest, greatest individual to exist in this time and how much Yaga has been up his ass since he was promoted to principal and blah blah blah...

"Can you believe he was expecting me to get to the school before nine A.M.? Hah! Funny man. I need my beauty sleep. How else would I always look this handso- Oh!"

Megumi, who was in no way religious, praised in that moment whatever God up above sent a call to Gojo's phone at that exact moment, for he failed to believe he could have pretended to listen to another second of his unimportant and unnecessary rant. It truly was over-the-top, and Megumi was not a fan. He had never, nor did he think he would ever, warmed up to the way Gojo's ego seems to make a nearly empty room feel claustrophobic.

"Heyyyyy!" Gojo dragged, acting like a highschool girl with the way he twirled the end of his hair and giggled at whoever was at other end of the phone. If Megumi cared to look closely enough (which he totally doesn't, since he is so disinterested in Gojo and does not dare to look at him too long or he will automatically become annoyed), a rosy hue could barely be seen on the apples of the older man's cheeks, growing more and more apparent the longer the phone call went on.

Obviously, Megumi did not want to listen to the likely boring conversation, but since he was stuck in the same room as Gojo, he had no other choice but to eavesdrop on the phone call. Or, more accurately, he was playing detective to solve the mystery of who on the other end was transforming Gojo, as childish as he is, into a tweenage boy talking to a cute girl for the first time.

"I'm with Fushiguru, actually," Megumi overheard, his interest only minutely piqued after hearing his name. Whoever was on the other end must have known who he was already given the way Gojo did not feel the need to elaborate on who exactly Fushiguru was. That irked Megumi.

"Yeah, just hanging out, you know. I'd say we're best buds! Right, Megumi?" Gojo moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the boy across from him expectedly.

"No," is all Megumi spoke in response.

Gojo's eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a response, before he laughed and continued, "Silly guy! Such a silly guy."

The call took way too long and Megumi was half tempted to leave the room, but he was still getting used to Gojo and did not fully understand what his role was in his current situation. Was Gojo considered a houseguest? Was Megumi supposed to have something prepared as a thank you? Even if he was, he wouldn't do that for Gojo. What if something went wrong, or Gojo did something stupid? Tsumiki was at her after school club, being the natural social butterfly she was. Megumi had assumed the role of the man of the house at merely seven, and he was not going to disappoint her or let anything go haywire on his watch. This was his roof, and nothing would happen to their humble little abode under his watch.

Finally, Gojo said his goodbyes to whoever he was speaking to, set his phone down, and sighed in the most i-must-be-living-in-a-daydream-because-there-is-no-way-life-can-be-this-good-and-i-am-so-in-love-but-i-dont-even-know-it sort of way.

"You would like her," Gojo broke the silence after a few moments of savoring the butterflies in his stomach.

"Who was that?" Megumi queried, and if Gojo listened closely, he could hear echos of intense interest in the boy's simple question.

"A friend from work."

"You don't have friends."

"Hey!"

-----

After your existence was brought to light, it became a thing that whenever Gojo visited, he spent half the time on the phone - whether texting or on a phone call, it didn't matter. He was always talking to you.

Megumi supposed he should have felt grateful since Gojo finally became less unbearable. His check-ins, although hard to predict when they would be or how long in between they would reoccur, became less about how much Gojo loves himself and more about... well, you. It was a nice change from hearing his neverending egocentric comments, to be fair. Megumi was not complaining.

"You remember her, right, Megumi?" he asked while walking Megumi home from school one day. He was on a tyrant about something that had happened at Jujutsu High a few days prior before realizing he might had forgotten about the most important detail: you. The chance that Megumi may not even know who he was speaking about generated a sharp gasp escaping from Gojo's lips.

"Yes. She's all you talk about," Megumi deadpanned. What a stupid question, the boy thought to himself, when Gojo asked this every single time he bothered to show his face around here.

Gojo chuckled, responding in a voice that was way up in the clouds, as if he was skipping through a meadow abundant with good feelings and the potential for new relationships, "Hm, yeah. I guess you're right! Sorry, kid. Just had to make sure you knew."

At this point, Megumi learned a lot about you: You taught second-year sorcerers at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you went to Kyoto Jujutsu High, you were in same year as Gojo was, you were acquaintances for a while, your best friend (unfortunately so, as Gojo whined when he told Megumi) was Utahime, who was oddly protective of you and rude for no reason to Gojo (it is most definitely within reason), you were the most selfless person to walk the surface of this planet, you cared more for others than for yourself, and you and Gojo were really, really, really good friends now that you worked together and you two were close and he was friends with you and you texted him all the time and hung out too and you spent time together and you are theprettiestpersonhehadeverplacedhissixeyeson-

Basically, Megumi knew more about you than he comfortably should, and you were all Gojo seemed to talk about now.

Megumi found it sort of... endearing how much Gojo spoke about you. For someone so certain in himself and all of his glory, it was nice to hear him talk about someone else that way. He discerned an innocent intent in Gojo's actions, from the soft grin that graced his face when he rattled on about you, to the way he had begun to ask eight-year-old Megumi for advice on women (which he has surprisingly been helpful with - especially the time when Gojo didn't know if you'd prefer a specific flavor of mochi over another, and Megumi's suggestion ended up being the perfect one because it was your favorite). And though he would never, ever utter the words out loud, Megumi enjoyed hearing Gojo talk about you. It brought him down to earth and made him feel more like a mortal being; even Satoru Gojo crushed, fawning over you like you were a brand new toy and he was a toddler unwrapping gifts on Christmas Day. Even the man who had everything in the world simply wanted just like the rest of the world; he yearned for things in life that he did not ("Not yet, but surely soon!" Megumi was certain Gojo would say if he could read minds) have.

The two boys sat together at Megumi's, eating some sweets Gojo brought back from his mission. Gojo had a bouquet of flowers set delicately on the table in front of him, preparing himself to go to your house after his pep talk with Megumi and ask you on a date. Finally.

Staring at the flowers beside him, Gojo resolved to pick a flower out of the bouquet; a pretty, pale pink daisy that reminded him of the shade of your cheeks when he teased you. He rolled the green stem of the daisy back and forth between his index finger and thumb while echoing the declarations of his planned speech confessing his feelings for you. He had his heartfelt soliloquy memorized, but he was still feeling... apprehensive.

"She loves me," Gojo began, plucking a petal off of the flower and setting it delicately on the table. He spoke lowly, as if his life depended on the resolution he would find when he would extricate the last of the daisy's petals.

Megumi looked up from the book he was reading - a true crime mystery he had been quite invested in - to figure out what the man next to him was doing.

"She loves me not," Gojo plucked another petal, placing it on top of the other one he had already taken off.

Ah, Megumi understood it now. He's transforming into a child; his obsession with you had turned his brain to mush. He had now, mentally, been beat by Megumi, descending into the intellect a five year old smitten with a kindergarten crush.

"She loves me!" Gojo chirped. He plucked another petal before reporting with a glum tone, "She loves me not."

This went on and on. Megumi observed without a word and Gojo continuing the game that is so typically played on on a children's playground.

How on earth did you have such a drastic effect a man so above the rest of society? The man put on a pedestal by all of the Jujutsu world; the one who could take on any obstacle and leave without a scratch; the same guy who died and brought himself back to life; he could isolate himself from the rest of the world in an instant using only his limitless technique, yet, you always found a way to draw him back him - and somehow, somewhere in the mix, you had The Strongest Sorcerer wrapped around your finger.

"She loves me, Megumi!" Gojo proclaimed when he picked the final petal from the flower. "I mean, of course she does. Look at me."

Ah, there was the daily dose of Gojo's big ego; his head was as inflated as expected, but was on display little later than usual. Megumi referred to it as The Daily Dose of Gojo: DDG. He was bound to hear at least once a day about how much Gojo loved himself, whether through text or in person. But today, it was more like he was venturing to persuade himself on that fact, too.

Megumi then realized that this was the first time he had seen Gojo nervous.

He wondered what about you could make Gojo nervous, because not even the strongest of curses causes The Strongest Sorcerer to break into a sweat. What exactly is it that you have that grants you the title of the one human who could make Satoru Gojo nervous? He understood that you were special to him, but he still had never met you, and he is starting to want to.

He wasn't sure why he felt so protective over you. You were a twenty-year-old woman who he has never even met in person, even though he knew from Gojo the color of your eyes and the smell of the perfume you always wore. One thing was for sure, though: if Satoru Gojo messed with your heart, Megumi would fight him with all of the effort his child body could exert in one go, then kick his ass all the way to the core of the earth to be at such a heat that his infinity disfunctioned, ensuring he suffers for ever even considering toying with your feelings.

-----

"Fushiguru!" Gojo hollered as Megumi exit his elementary school.

Megumi glared at the white-haired male as he stalked toward him, untrusting of the motives at play. Gojo watched the child over the rims of his sunglasses, a toothy smile spread across his face while he waved excitedly. He had something planned, as per usual.

"What do you want?" Megumi groaned, and he eyed the two individuals in front of him with suspicion, though he already had an idea on who you were.

It was an uncommon sight for him to be picked up from school, but for Gojo to be accompanied by someone other than Ijichi was borderline shocking. There was only one person you could be, however, and Megumi suppressed the fluttering of excitement he felt as he saw you.

"Hey! Rude to speak to your elders like that," Gojo jested flippantly. "I want you two to meet!"

Fushiguru listened as Gojo repeated every syllable of your name that he has repeated a million times before. It rolled smoothly off of his lips, like caramel drizzle on the sweetest treat from his favorite bakery. It has been about two months since you, somehow willingly, agreed to a date with Gojo. It has been about a month since you agreed to officially be his girlfriend, which Yaga was not the most pleased to hear, but Gojo dealt with that and ensured the security of both of your jobs.

"Hi, Fushiguru!" You waved, a wide smile adorning your face. "Nice to meet you! Gojo talks about you all of the time."

"Hi," Megumi quietly said. He suddenly felt shy in your presence. You stood in front of him in all of your beauty, with the kindest smile on your face and the softest look in your eye, gazing at him as if he were the most important person in the world. Gojo did not do you justice when describing you to him.

And suddenly, everything Gojo ever said about you made complete sense - now, he finally understood how even the famed Satoru Gojo fell victim to the enigma that was you.

"I'm a friend of Gojo's! I wanted to meet you, and I don't know if you would want to, but I would love to get to know you," you offered. You folded your hands together in front of you and smiled politely toward the young boy. You were doing your best to not look too nervous because you really did want to get to know this kid, but from what Gojo's told you, he was not the most sociable character. Something about his melancholy aura is rather intimidating, to say the least, and you were doing your best to accommodate.

"...will he be there?" the kid questioned after some thought. As he spoke, he pointed his thumb toward his benefactor who immediately took offense to whatever he was implying, whining loudly in the background of what had become the two of yours conversation.

"Who, Gojo? Oh, well, he doesn't have to be," you suggested over Gojo's objections. "It can just be you and me. Or, if you are more comfortable with it, he can come with-"

"No. No Gojo," he interrupted. Gojo continued in his protests, but they all drowned into white noise as Megumi continued. "But sure."

You craved so badly to smile widely, high five Gojo for the feat you just accomplished, jump up and down, and display your excitement for his agreement on your face. But you were so worried you would scare him off, so instead, you opted for a soft smile while you said, "Great! Is now okay?

"Sure," he returned, emotionless as always.

"Perfect. Your pick on what we do. And it's on Gojo!"

And you walked away, ignoring Gojo whining after you. You'd coddle him tonight when he would inevitably pout to you about abandoning him for a little kid. For now, though, the important task at hand was getting to know Megumi Fushiguru - who reluctantly held your hand as you walked to the arcade he selected.

From then on, you were a common face in Megumi's life.

When he was in fourth grade, the two of you started a tradition where every other week, you would pick him up early from school and get ice cream and talk (as much as Megumi was willing to, at least). You had surprised him after school one day a couple months ago, and the routine stuck after he asked you to go again the couple weeks later. Not that you ever complained - you would never in your right mind take for granted Megumi willingly hanging out with you.

"So, how has school been?" you probed, Megumi begrudgingly held your hand as you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo (he claimed he was old enough to walk on his own, but you told him it was just for your own sanity in the scary world of Tokyo and when he turned ten you wouldn't do it anymore, and who was he to deny you of peace of mind when that is all you ever wished upon everyone els?).

"Fine," Megumi muttered. He was not the most fond of crowds, which was glaringly obvious as he squeezed your hand more aggressively the farther you ventured into the city. So yeah, maybe he did kind of appreciate your overprotectiveness.

That was the day you learned Megumi had his first crush.

Well, okay, it wasn't really a crush. He just thought someone was cute.

As you sat side-by-side, he ate his vanilla ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles, you ate your choice of ice cream, and the two of you chatted - meaning you talked, and he occasionally threw in a word or two.

"Any girls you think are cute? Or guys?" You sought, emphasizing the teasing nature of your question by tapping your elbow into his side. Megumi glared up at you through the strands of his hair, but you could see the red tint on his pale skin - a sign you were on to something. "Ooooh! Tell me all about them!"

"Stop it," he sulked and stared off into the distance, ice cream forgotten in his hand. You could tell he was thoroughly embarrassed, but you just could not for the life of you get over how adorable he looked.

"Aw, Megumi. I'm just teasing. But you can always talk about that with me, you know?" you offered. "I can give you all the advice on girls. I would not recommend asking Gojo about them. His flirting skills are... unconventional. Plus, I know I'm your favorite. So just gives an excuse to rub it in his face!"

"Thanks," Megumi spoke broodingly. His ice cream was starting to melt a little down the side of the waffle cone. The treat regained his attention as he finally noticed the melting mess, and immediately, he tackled cleaning it up. He hated messes.

"So... does that mean I'm your favorite?" you interrogated. This had been a debate between you and your boyfriend for a long time now.

"Sure."

And amongst the crowds of people, you - a full grown adult - hollered and jumped up and pumped your fist in satisfaction, because that was the best thing anyone had every said to you.

-----

Megumi took back whenever he had the ignorant thought that Gojo was becoming more bearable. Completely rescinded it. He was absolutely the most unbearable human to ever have walked this planet; residing in the same millennia as this man was barely tolerable, let alone inhaling the same air or sitting in the same room.

Gojo wanted to propose to you and he wouldn't stop talking about it.

Or asking Megumi for advice.

Yeah. Satoru Gojo was asking an eleven-year-old boy for help proposing to his long-term girlfriend.

You had been dating for over three years, and Gojo was growing impatient; he wanted you to be fully his. Not that you weren't already, but he wanted to be officially - by the law, by the symbol of marriage, and by the ceremony that accompanied it. He wanted you to take his name and be a new addition to the Gojo lineage, and if it came to the day, maybe add some little ones to the family. It was getting the point where want wasn't enough to describe how he felt - it was a necessity to marry to, to be yours forever.

Megumi had grown a lot closer with you with the past months, even opening up a little. He mentioned to you his internal debate regarding "good people" and "bad people", to which you listened, you heard him, and you cared. Genuinely. You hugged him, and in that moment, he felt so loved, he never wanted to leave your arms - the arms that would protect him from anything scary, like nightmares or curses, and shield him from experiencing any more hardships. He wasn't used to that - yeah he had his sister, whom he loved so dearly and she did in return, to be cared by a motherly figure was something he had barely experienced.

For the life of him, he could not figure out how or why you willingly, even happily, subjected yourself to the hinderance that was Gojo. Every time he asked you why, you respond, "Oh, Megumi, you're a funny one!" and laughed the heartwarming laugh that made him feel like home. Megumi knew, deep down somewhere he wouldn't ever like to admit, that you were happy, and Gojo made you happy. He knew you loved Gojo. He was fully aware of all of that. And he had witnessed as your relationship grew more serious with time Gojo beginning to think for more than just himself - he grew as an individual, doing what he thought was best for the ones he loved, rather than what suited him best. Megumi knew that come to it, Gojo would lay down his life for you. If it meant making a deal with the most dangerous curse, or if it meant sacrificing his soul, Gojo would do it for you, and honestly, Megumi had the inkling that Gojo would do it for him too.

"What if I have a plane do the whole 'marry me?' in the sky? Ugh, but that is so overdone. I need to be creative and go all out for her. What do you think, Megumi?" Gojo inquired, to which Megumi only tuned back in because he heard the sound of his name.

"Just ask her. You know she'll say yes," Megumi grumbled what he already knew was fact.

"Well, of course she will. Who would turn down my handsome self?" Gojo gestures to his person, a confident smile on his lips. "But you're right. Ugh, Megumi, what do I do?" Gojo held an ebony ring box, anxiously passing it from one hand to the other and back, the piece of jewelry it contained an indicator of how serious he was about this. Why he was carrying such an expensive ring around so casually was beyond Megumi's pay grade, but he knew Gojo would not let anything happen to it.

"You'll figure it out," Megumi said, as he had no ideas either - you deserved everything in the world, and no proposal or material thing would be enough to thank you for all you have done for everyone else.

"Oh my god, I did!" Gojo jumped from his seat, giddy as a little kid, and celebrated whatever idea he came up with. He placed the ring box in his pocket, where he would protect it with every cell in his body.

"Great," Megumi said. He prayed to himself that Gojo would now finally get out of his hair.

"I'll take her on a nice trip - she's always wanted to sightsee in Europe, but hasn't had the time - and then, once we land in Greece, I'll do it there and- and I'll leave it at that. Don't wanna spoil the surprise yet for everyone. Thanks Megumi!"

And Megumi smiled a tiny little smile to himself as Gojo exited his house, excited for the two of you.

And he congratulated you when you came home from the trip Gojo planned for the two of you. You visited him and ran up, showing off the ring you were sure Gojo spared no expense on. Though, Megumi had already seen it from the hundreds of times Gojo showed him it, and not to mention all the pictures you send him from overseas.

And he continued to be excited for you as he helped you with planning - because if there is one thing to know about Megumi, it's that he is organized. So he helped you figure your ceremony out by ensuring all the paperwork you had and the appointments you booked and all of your purchases were kept track of, or else the wedding would have been a disaster. If Gojo asked him for help, though, he would laugh in his face and say absolutely not.

And then, before he knew it, the wedding was there. Megumi was the ring bearer, of course. He was almost 13 at that point, and he was starting to grow into himself and show signs of growing up (puberty!).

He felt... happy.

Happy for you. Happy for the new and official makeshift family that established itself. Happy to know that you were genuinely happy, and that for all of the love you constantly gave to others without hesitation, someone gave finally was giving you that love back, and then some. Because he saw how much Gojo adored you, and honestly, there was no one else he would want to be with you.

Now he stands, at Tokyo Jujutsu High for his first year at the school. His benefactor who drives him up the wall is his teacher, and now, not only does he have to deal with him normally, but he actually has to listen to him.

But at least you're there too. He has you, always.

And for that, he smiles. A rare smile reserved for the sparse moments where he is genuinely happy - and he is, because he knows you'll save him from Gojo if he needs you to.

The improvised family he's found himself in may not be exactly what he dreamed of, but he's happy with it nonetheless.

And he still struggles with the dilemma of what is good or bad, and he still struggles to find his purpose in the world, and he is still angry at the universe for putting him in this world when there was no reason for him to be there, and he still struggles with the pain of abandonment and his found comfort in solidarity.

But that's okay. It'll be okay. He has you. He has you because Gojo brought you into his life.

He's grateful for that.

Megumi hopes one day he can find the love you share for himself. But that's a problem for the distant future. And when he has another crush, you will be the first to know - not because he would admit it to you, but because somehow, you always know. You know him better than he knows himself at this point, and it's a scary talent you have, but one you most definitely possess.

With that, Megumi steps forward, walking alongside you into the building he will be at almost everyday for the next few years. While he wasn't holding your hand like old times, it was okay. Because he was growing up, and he had a future ahead of him that made you so excited for him.

"I'll see you later, Meg. Got a long day ahead," you bid farewell and ruffle his hair. The two of you stop in the barren hallway facing each other, and you are disappointed at how he keeps growing, and at some point in the near future, he will surpass your height. It feels like you're shrinking, honestly, with how fast he's growing.

But you always knew he would at some point, just like you knew that he would one day decline holding your hand while in public, and how one day he would outgrow your ice cream runs (though they still happen every now and then, just not as frequent as in the past).

"See you," Megumi responds.

"Love ya!" You lean and place a chaste kiss on the side of Megumi's head. You remember when you used to be able to place one on the top of his head without going on your tiptoes, but times are changing, or you're shrinking or whatever, and the side of the head will do.

"Yeah, love you, too," Megumi says, rushing the end of the sentence and turning around to walk away. You say it to him so often, and he loves you, but it's still difficult for him to express that.

But that's okay. It's all okay.

He knows whatever is in the future, you will protect him, and Gojo will watch over him, and everything will be okay. The two of you will love him unconditionally, even if he struggles to say it back.

And he'll never admit it, but if there is one thing he's grateful for in life, it's Gojo, for he brought you into his life, and what a blessing it is to exist at the same time as you do.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, staring at the three individuals in front of you. "You sent Megumi alone to find Sukuna's finger at some school, which was taken by random students who tried to unravel it, which ended in this kid-"

"Yuji Itadori, sensei!" Yuji introduces himself, saluting to you for some reason.

"Right. Itadori ate the finger. Sukuna's finger. And he is now Sukuna's vessel."

"Yup!" Gojo confirms and he gives you a thumbs up. "That about sums it up."

"So tell me why when I asked about three hours ago why all of the higher-ups were acting like they were shitting themselves, you didn't think to tell me what happened?" you ask, irritation with your husband woven in between every syllable you speak.

"I did, but I knew it would be fine, so I didn't want to worry you."

"Worry? Really? Do you know how worried I was when they said Sukuna was there?"

"Honey, you know I'm strong. I can face him."

Itadori looks to his new comrade, Fushiguru, to see if he was uncomfortable to watch the couple argue in front of them. He fails to be consoled when he sees Megumi wasison his phone nonchalantly as if nothing's wrong. Yuuji assumes Megumi was just tuning them out as a student being used to teachers bickering, so he decides to try to do the same. But it's not working.

"I don't care about your strength, I care about Megumi, and I care about the lives of those students, and-"

"Hey, Fushiguru?" Itadori says, and Megumi hums in response. "Is this normal?"

"-they were put at risk, Satoru! Do you understand that?"

With the couple continuing to argue in the background, Megumi looks up from his phone finally, answering, "Huh, this? Yeah. Get used to it. He's an idiot."

"Yes, baby, I understand, but I made a judgement call and I stand by that. I'm sorry-"

"Ah. Well, um. Can we leave? Do we have to stay?"

"-for not keeping you informed, but I promise you, I had it under control."

"Yeah. They won't even notice we're gone until one of them asks for our opinion and then they notice we're missing. It's just funny to watch them sometimes."

"The higher ups want to execute him! An innocent kid! And I know you got sweets in the middle of all of that. Are you serious-"

"You're used to this?" Itadori inquires, a naturally curious kid.

"-ly telling me that nothing different could have been done to prevent this?"

"I guess you could say that."

rawrrrr thank u for reading i love you SMMMM i loved writing this hehee <33333

[freakoont]

Hi!!!! Pretty pretty please, could you write a ranpo x reader where reader usually takes care of him because they have a soft spot for him, but ranpo takes them for granted somehow, and they get frustruated and angry. Maybe a little angsty and fluff as well. Im so happy to discover your blog, i really like the way you write for bsd! Sorry for my english, i’m not a native

❝𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!?❞

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ... 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 // 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

【ＳＦＷ】

GENDER NEUTRAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! Check my request page for info !

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

It's easy to say that Ranpo doesn't exactly have manners, and is easily persuaded by his own thoughts and often doesn't think before he speaks when he isn't on the job.

Often, he'll make people feel very dumb. That doesn't change for people he's close with, cough. You.

It's been a good few months since you had joined the Agency, being assigned as Ranpo's lucky assistant. Actually, no, now that you remember it more clearly, you were never assigned this role... It just so happened that during you're early days when you were still a lost noobie, Ranpo.. 'found' you, but not exactly in a positive or negative way.

When it was only you and Ranpo in the building, when everyone had gone to do their own thing, he was whining about being so hungry he'd die! Talk about childish.. and yet, after a while it grew on you.

You offered to go to the nearest convenient store and see if you could find anything, which you did, and after that Ranpo would use your more and more often to retrieve stuff for him, that the title 'Ranpo's lucky assistant' grew on you.

Ranpo didn't seem to care, actually, eventually he'd start to have you help him with cases... And by 'help' it just means you'd buy his train tickets. Basically you were treated like a guinea pig in some ways, even having to give the man piggy back rides when he felt tired.

╰┈➤ ❝Would you call this luck?❞

Actually, it isn't all that bad. Ranpo would always look so happy whenever you walked in the room. Word has it, whenever you weren't around, his head would perk up like a dog on alert at the sound of your name being spoken and he'd always feel so gloomy saying, 'man, I wish (Y/N) was here.' Although, that's probably just Yosano trying to mess with you.

Not to mention he'd always love to eat with you, seeming so glad as he'd get into your space and ask that you 'so kindly feed him like a good assistant' ignoring all the stacks of papers you have to finish.

Some part of you wants to say that he just has a sweet yet naive heart when he's not actually using his brain... And yet...

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

"pfft, don't be stupid. I don't need your little gift," he spoke while pushing your hand away.

For the past few days, you had found yourself growing a different perspective around him.. did you truly like this guy?

Earlier that day, as had been you passing through many stores, there was something in particular that caught your attention. You were a firm believer in luck and gratitude, always wanted it for yourself and others. When you saw basically some five dollar bracelets, there was one in particular that caught your attention.

A small bracelet, a very colorful one, that had little snack charms. It was pretty. It reminded you a lot of Ranpo.

"you don't need to wear it, I was just hoping-"

"you were hoping to give me a little good luck charm." He'd speak up over you with a tone voice that didn't seem completely annoyed but more like he was mocking you. He'd continue to place another chip into his mouth before continuing, "I don't need it. I'm the world's greatest detective after all."

"..i see." You spoke with a feeling of disappointment. "I'll just throw it away then."

Ranpo didn't seem to bat an eye about it as soon as you had left his line of sight that following day.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

A few days followed and you didn't exactly forget that little item, actually it's disappointing you chose to throw away such a pretty gadget. Slowly the sun hit the inside of your room and you felt this pinging in your head. A strong annoyance, a headache.

Some part of you felt like this headache had to do with how you've been seeing Ranpo lately. One question that's been stuck in your mind, do you seriously regret meeting him? No, that'd be too much to say... But he can be annoying to deal with.

There were even moments where you'd have to step in because he pissed off the wrong person, stopping people from getting their fist in his face... It was always you taking a few verbal hits for him, huh? And he never seemed to mind, always doing it again and again no matter how much you've told him it's wrong.

Maybe you're wrong about your friendship with him.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

"yo, I'm here." You spoke up while entering the Agency, that strong pinging in your head again. You looked around only to see Ranpo. "Where is everybody?"

"Dazai is skipping, Yosano is in her infirmary, and the rest of them are all on their own errands and cases." Ranpo spoke as he played on his little game console. He perked up at you with a smug grin, "Soo, let me guess. Today's snacks are.."

"actually I don't have anything."

"HUH? WHY?" He immediately jumped in his seat staring at you almost distressed. "I'll die without food y'know!"

"..if you're so hungry then go get yourself something."

"Nonsense!" He laughed out, mocking you in a way. "Last I recall your my lucky assistant, and you promised to get me food every morning."

"I didn't promise you anything, Edogawa."

Ranpo had noticed a sharp tone in your voice, you seemed oddly annoyed, which was different. He then grinned towards you, "Oh I see! Is this about your little gift to-"

".. you're such a pain, Edogawa!" You spoke up which made the man flinch. You definitely noticed that, you've caught him off guard. "Not once have you ever gratitude for what I've done? I know it's not much and maybe I'm being dramatic.. but it'd be nice to get a thank you every and now then? All it feels like is that you look down on me."

"..I'm sorry."

That's all he said which didn't make you an happier. Thats all he can say? Is he serious?

"I'm leaving. I have a bad headache and I don't want to deal with this, let Kunikida know I'm off." You turned on your heels to leave.

"Wait hold up-!" Ranpo immediately followed and grabbed your shoulder. "I said I was sorry!" After he didn't heard you respond and just ignore him, yet waited in your steps to hear if he had anything else to say, he pulled out the bracelet from his pocket. "..the reason I said I didn't need your good luck charm, was because my lucky assistant is what brings me luck."

"..."

"..and thanks."

[goldenempyrean]

Close Your Eyes

〚 Notes - We haven't had a collab in a while, have we? I joined with the amazing @mapis-putellas on this so hopefully you enjoy! 〛

〚 Pairing - Supercorp 〛

〚 Summary - Lena is stubbornly working when she shouldn't be. Kara comes to bring her home. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2,380 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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Kara had assumed it was nothing. In fact, she’d hoped desperately it was nothing. It wasn't like Lena hadn't woken up a little stuffy before. A little grouchy and clingy wanting to be held just that bit little longer than normal. If truth be told, it was quiet a common occurrence - especially during allergy season when all of that pollen was in the air.  

However today it seemed as though Lena had wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Kara’s gentle hand grazed softly over the bare skin of her back as she'd burrowed herself against her chest.  

For a second, Kara had assumed she'd fallen back to sleep. This wasn’t like ger at all. No matter what, she was always up and out of bed before the clock could even strike seven.  God forbid, a Luthor stay in bed idle while the day passed them by. 

That morning Lena had seemed a little more subdued than normal as she sipped her tea and forced down some breakfast, but Kara again had thought nothing of it and simply put it down to simply allergies and the fact she’d just woken up. She had no reason not to believe it. 

After a quick shower, Lena left for work, as usual. The only difference being was she hadn't kissed Kara goodbye before she'd left. Now that wasn't normal.  Kara’s brow furrowed a little as she watched the door close behind her, her distinct crinkle forming at the bridge of her nose. Something seemed off. 

There wasn’t much she could do now except finishing getting herself ready for the day. Lena was constantly in the back of her mind however. Kara had a habit of zoning in to Lena's heartbeat periodically throughout the day despite her duties as super girl. It wasn’t spying or anything malicious, it was just that hearing that rhythmic beating was comforting and reminded her about all the good in the world, especially after a rough fight or incident. However, each time today that she'd listened in, Kara had heard said heartbeat speed up for several seconds before returning to normal.  

Now, the blonde may had been a little naive sometimes, but she definitely wasn't dumb. She knew full well that they were sneezes. Sneezes of which Lena was trying, and apparently failing, to stifle.  Now she really knew something was wrong. 

Lena never sneezed. Not really. They'd been together for over two years and Kara hadn’t seen Lena had only sneeze in her company more than 3 times. She'd passed that record by triple today already, and it hadn't even been two hours since they'd departed for their respective jobs.  

Her suspicions only grew from there and she just about managed to refrain from flying over to L-Corp and demand Lena go home. Kara knew that that wouldn't go down too well. Especially when her girlfriend was a little more...cranky than usual.  

It was no secret that Lena was a workaholic. In fact, she'd told Kara just that not too long after they'd first started dating - almost as though she was trying to warn Kara away.  

It hadn't worked, obviously, and slowly but surely Kara had gotten used to spending most days by herself. She'd visit L-Corp most days with lunch, - because Lena was nortotrious for forgetting the fact that humans need do indeed need food to function, and after they'd eaten, Kara would manage to coax Lena into her arms for a few minutes of snuggles, and then back to work it was.  

It was pretty much routine now. Their normal. And whilst Kara did sometimes wish they'd spend more time together, she'd gotten used to the fact that it was an uncommon occurrence. The last time they'd spend the entire day together was during her last solar flare just three short months ago.  

Lena had pretty much waited on her hand and foot, and had attended to every single one of her needs without question. She'd held Kara for hours on end, Kara's head on her chest and Kara's arms beneath her shirt, hands tenderly grazing over her bare sides. There had been lots of kisses too. Forehead. Nose. Cheeks, and lips.  

It was glorious, and despite the pain she was in, Kara had never wanted the day to end.  

Of course it had though.   

But apparently now, it was Lena's turn to be sick, which Kara was about 98.7% certain Lena was. The neglected 1.3% doubt was later confirmed when she'd gotten the phone call from Lena's assistant, Jess, pleading with Kara to come and get her girlfriend before she inevitably passed out.  

It had taken Kara mere seconds to make it to L-Corp, and with a deep sigh, - because she already knew Lena wasn't going to let herself be brought home without a fight, she pushed open the balcony door and slipped into Lena's office, meeting her girlfriends surprised look with a soft, yet hopeful smile.  

"Kara?" The sound of her voice alone has Kara's heart aching. It was so hoarse that it sounded painful.  

"Hi baby," She greeted her, walking over and crouching down. Lena turns in her chair to face her, and Kara automatically placed a hand on each of her thighs and gave them a soft squeeze. 

Lena sniffled wetly - a sound Kara decides to ignore, at least for now - before resting her hands atop of Kara's own. "What are you doing here?" She asked as she tilted her head to the side, and Kara had to physically refrain herself from awh’ing out loud as she interlaced her fingers with Lena's slightly smaller ones.  

"Jess called," was all she said, and that was all it takes for Lena's seemingly good mood to drop. She pulled her hands out of Kara's own and attempted to swivel herself out of Kara's personal space with a disgruntled look on her flushed face.  

Expecting this, Kara doesn't let this deter her and placed both hands on the arms of the chair preventing Lena from moving. Lena was visibly upset at this, eyebrows furrowing and lips falling into a small pout. Making it clear she wasn’t going to leave this, Kara reached to cup her chin and was met with Lena swatting her hand away and attempting to stand up. 

"Hey hey, no." Kara lightly chastised her, gently taking both of Lena's hands into her own. "You need to sit back down. I may be strong but I don’t think it’d look good if Jess walked in on me picking you up from the floor." She attempted to joke to ease the tension, and much to her relief, Lena's lips quirk up ever so slightly at the corners. 

"Jess called me," The blonde continued from earlier, doing her best to ignore the pleading look currently being sent her way. She hated confrontation. Especially with those she loved and Lena was the person she loved most in this world with the exception of Alex.  

She wanted so badly to leave Lena to her day because she hated seeing her girlfriend so upset, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. She'd never forgive herself if she knowingly let Lena work herself to exhaustion like this. 

So, she took a deep breath and forced herself to continue, "She called me and told me you were sick. And baby, you look it. You shouldn’t have even come in today.” 

Lena sniffled again; her green eyes considerably shiny with the onslaught of tears. "Kara..." she trailed off pleadingly, her voice breaking. By now, she was becoming considerably flushed in the face, her brow damp with sweat, telling Kara it may be best to hurry up and finish with this conversation so she could take her home.  

"I must admit I was suspicious from the second you woke up this morning," The pad of Kara’s thumb softly began grazing over her feverish skin. "I should’ve said something then but I decided to let you trust your own judgment, which I realised now may not have been the best decision."  

Lena, despite her obvious inner turmoil, leaned into Kara's soft touch, telling Kara all she needed to know. "Let's go home, okay?" She rises to her feet and holds out her hands.  

Lena frowns, "Kara, no. I have to work. You know that. I can't-" 

Okay. Attempt two it was.  

"Can't what? Be sick? Leave your job for one measly day so I can take care of you?" She wasn't opposed to getting a little defensive herself if it meant Lena would actually listen to her.  

Lena frowned at her, "That's not fair. You know how much this job means to me. I can't just-" she abruptly cut herself off, and for a second, Kara was concerned and watches as Lena's nose twitched and lips quivered. Seconds later, Lena pitched forward into her seat and sneezes both loudly and wetly into her hands.  

"Hts'choo!"  

Kara let out a quiet sigh as she grabbed two tissues from the almost empty box on Lena's desk and once again crouched down in front of her. She offered them out without a word as her hand comes to rest on the small of Lena's back, and the woman shyly took them from her with a somewhat embarrassed look on her face before softly blowing her nose.  

Kara waited patiently as Lena disposed of said tissue before she squirted some sanitiser onto her hands. She knew it may be best to give her a few moments to gather herself because the next time she attempted this conversation, she wouldn't be asking. 

In the meantime, Lena sniffled again and leant back in her chair as she looked up at Kara through tired, glassy eyes. Kara knew it was time for her to go home. Staying here would only do more harm than good and she knew that secretly, Lena would also much prefer to be cuddled up in bed rather than sitting uncomfortably at her desk. 

So this time she tried a different approach, “As L-Corp’s CEO, it’s your responsibility to make sure your company performs at its best, right?”Kara began, and waited for Lena to nod in acknowledgment before she continued, “You’re sick and quite clearly it’s contagious from the way the security guard I passed was sniffling. As CEO, It’s your responsibility to make sure your staff are doing the best job they can do and well, they can’t do that if they’re also coming down with whatever nasty bug you’re fighting, can they?” 

“So, it’s not only in the best interest of yourself but also your company if you be brave, admit you’re not feeling the best today and let me take you back home.” Kara finished. Her logic was irrefutable, even Lena could understand that. 

The ravenette seemed to fight herself on what to do before after a few long seconds, finally giving into the smallest of nods. That was more than enough for Kara. She reached down and helped Lena up, pulling her waist up and towards her into a hug. She could feel Lena hold her breath as she rested her head onto her shoulder, seemingly trying to stop herself from breathing heavily or sniffling. 

“You’re okay love, just relax.” Kara whispered as she rubbed her back as Lena let out a long shaky exhale, “You’ll be okay, I promise. A nice hot bath and some snuggles on the sofa is just what you need. Thank you for letting me taking you home.” 

“M’sorry I’m so stubborn, I know it’s difficult-” Lena began but was cut off by Kara shushing her gently, her hand reaching down to take it into her own as she led her towards the door. 

She pushed open the door and held it as Lena walked through, “I knew what I was signing up for. Yes, you’re as stubborn as anything and it can be a real pain in the... anyway, regardless of that I still wouldn’t change you for the world. You’re my Lena Luthor and I love you.” Kara finished by kissing her softly, making up for the one she lost this morning. The two stayed like that for a minute until Lena had to inevitably break away to breathe. 

Kara smiled softly as Lena took a deep breath, the strain still visible on her flushed face. “Come on, let’s start getting you home.” She said quietly, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend’s waist as they headed towards the elevator. She could feel Lena leaning more of her weight against her, a clear sign of just how exhausted she was.  

The ride down to the lobby was quiet, save for the occasional sniffle or cough from Lena. Some curious people glanced at them curiously as they passed by, but no one dared say a word. Jess stood by the front desk, looking relieved as they approached. She gave her an appreciative nod, a gesture she knew Jess understood. She made a mental note to buy her some flowers or a small gift at a later date. 

In the meantime, Kara continued to guide Lena out of the building and into her waiting car. She helped her settle into the passenger seat, buckling her in with careful hands. “Just relax, okay?” she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Lena’s face. 

The driver looked at her curiously, “Where to Miss Danvers?” He asked as Kara climbed in the backseat at the other side. She thought for a moment as Lena scooted over a little to lean against her side, letting her head drop onto her shoulder. 

The blonde couldn’t resist cooing quietly at how clingy her previously stubborn and crank girlfriend had become, “Pharmacy first please then back to our apartment. Thank you.” She turned to Lena, letting her hand come to the back of her hair to gently undo the tight ponytail she’d had it pulled up into. Instantly she could feel Lena’s expression soften slightly as the pressure in her head relieved just a little, “Just close your eyes and sleep love. I’ll get everything we need and when you wake up, we’ll be back home, okay?” 

The Luthor sighed softly and nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she quietly whispered, “Thanks Kara.” 

“You’re welcome sweetheart.” 

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[darlingsfandom]

can i request a dark older actor cillian where he works on set with younger actress who is new to the industry and cillian thinks shes like naive and pretty so he manipulates into being his

you got it friend ✨

TW: dark! Cillian, he’s a creep! P in V, unprotected sex!

It had been a long day, your body ached, eyes burned and brain turned to mush. This was your first big break at a real Hollywood movie! You were going beyond your limits to prove yourself (even though you had the part) because you had the feeling swallowing you whole that if you didn’t you’d be fired.

Your trailer has been your new home over the last four months so you made it cozy for you! You were laying on your back closing your eyes and listening to your white noise machine with your fan blowing high to get your self calmed down and it was working until someone decided to knock on the door. A sigh left your lips.

“Come in!” You yelled and the door swung open. Cillian had waltzed right in. You loved Cillian and playing his leading lady made your head spin!

“‘Ello dsrlin.” He sat down next to you before pulling you in closer. “Wanted ta check on ya. I know tis was a big scene for ya! Had ya show everyone your young body.” Today was a first for you since you had just filmed a nude scene and it did make you feel seen in an unwanted way. “Ya did amazin darlin!” Cillians fingers brushed up and down your arm as he leaned in to kiss the top of head, but it wasn’t just a kiss he had also sniffed your hair which made you furrow your eyebrow. It wasn’t the first time Cillian had sniffed your hair or rubbed your back or he’d happen to catch you when you tripped and his hands cupped your body just right .

“Thank you Cillian.” You squeaked when you felt his hand sneak its way down to your ass and give it a feel. His lips curved into a smile.

“Such a pretty young thing you are.” His lips brushed against your ear sending shivers over your body. You shrunk a little before he grabbed you by your chin and made you look him in the eyes. His baby blues suddenly seemed dark and it made your throat dry. “And all mine.” His grip tightened making you whimper. His free hand made its way back to your hair and tangled his fingers into it. You gave him pleading eyes which turned him on even more. Cillian had been obsessed with you since he met you at casting. It was because of him that you had the role. You OWED him! You just didn’t realize it.

“Give me a kiss doll.” He puckered his lips to you. You shook your head which landed a smack across your cheek. “I said! Give! ME A KISS!” He sputtered at you making your thighs clench which he did notice . He squeezed your cheeks hard to pucker your soft lips before pressing his into yours. It was a rough kiss which you couldn’t deny actually felt good .

“If yer gonna be a brat, gonna treat ya like one.” Cillian bit your bottom lip before yanking on your hai to make your head go back so he could suck on your neck. A small whimper escaped your lips which made Cillian suck harder on your collar bone while his free hand groped your tits. He squeezed them hard before shoving his hand under your shirt and playing with your nipples. He smiled against your lips for not wearing a bra and giving him easy access. Cillian pulled away from you with a smirk before he pulled you up to you feet.

“Get naked.. now!” His fingers snapped at you as he sat there rubbing his bulge through his pants. Your hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt and yanked it off before getting your pants off. “Panties gotta go to doll.” You pulled off your panties and stood there fully nude as he licked his lips.

“See! Such a pretty young body doll! Show me yer pussy.” Your jaw dropped at his words.

“I won’t repeat meself! Do it!” He barked at you. You leaned back on the edge of the couch and spread open your legs. Cillian watched in amazement at how easily you listened . He also loved how wet you looked. He leaned forward and dragged his finger through your folds before bringing it to his lips and looked into your eyes while cleaning his fingers. “Such a pretty pussy too!”

Cillian stood up in front of you and unzipped his pants. He dropped his boxers and your jaw dropped when he pulled out his fat cock. It was average length but the girth made you gulp. He stood over you and slowly rubbed his cock.

“Bet ya want me cock don’t ya ?”

“Yes Cillian!” You gave him doe eyes and that’s all it took. Cillian pulled you up before he sat down and pulled you onto his lap. He helped you steady yourself onto his cock. “Oh!!” Your mouth hung open as the girth of his cock stretched you open.

“Dats it doll, make yerself cock drunk!” His words struck your core making it easier for you to slide all the way down his cock until you felt his balls against your ass. “Good girl, ride me!”

You held onto his shoulders as you started bouncing up and down on his thick cock. Cillian watched how your pussy sucked his cock making him even more aroused. You were his personal porn star. “Fuck! Such a tight pussy gripping me cock! Fuck doll!” He gritted his teeth and tossed his head back as you bounced yourself dumb on his cock.

Cillian gripped your hips and took over. He fucked his cock hard up into you. You were crying from the pleasure building up inside. Your nails were digging into his arms as the sound of his balls slapping against you filled your ears and it was such an exciting sound to hear how your wetness squelched on his fat cock.

“Cillian! I need to cum! Please please!” You pleased as your eyes rolled back.

“Be good for me and cum on me cock! Be a good girl!” He grunted hard as his own orgasm was building. His moans were enough to send you over the edge and your orgasm hit hard.

“FUCK!” You cried out as your thighs shook hard, your mouth hung open and your pussy clenched his cock hard!

“I’m cumming doll!” Cillian held you tight on his cock as his large load of cum shot into your wet pussy and already started to seep down your legs.

“Cillian!” You yelped and tried to pull yourself off.

“No no! Stay still doll! Allow your body to take me cum!” He smiled at you as you gulped.

“Always going to take care of me pretty doll because you are mine!” Cillian held you in his arms as the two of you came down from your highs. This was more than you had accepted as your first role.

[leveloneandup]

Press returns to Angel City training

The star forward joined team training for the first time in two years.

THOUSAND OAKS, Calif. — The rehabilitation process has not been easy for Angel City forward Christen Press. She tore her right anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) against Racing Louisville on June 11, 2022, and underwent four surgeries.

Now, two years later, on the same day, Press returned to Angel City team training.

Press participated in warm-ups and a passing drill. Although she had trained individually and been around the team for months, she had not gone through drills with the rest of the group until Tuesday.

“I always thought I would be on the quickest timeline possible,” Press told reporters. “I always had some big milestone in my head that I just was sure I was going to make. That’s part of who I am. I’m just relentlessly optimistic. I’m naively positive, thinking that everything’s gonna work out for me. I never want that to change.

I kind of got off course of all of those timelines so many times that I finally had to relinquish that expectation of myself. To be back in my team training, which is a small milestone, but one that you [the media] are all here for, it feels like a full circle kind of moment. It feels a little poetic to hit it on the day precisely.”

Tuesday’s return was a significant step forward for the two-time World Cup winner. However, her return to matches may not be soon.

“It’s going to be a little while before you see me in a game, so be patient,” Press said.

In the meantime, Press will continue the rehabilitation process. Her plan involves individual drills and work in team training.

“[Press] has a detailed plan that she is fully bought into moving forward with, which is exciting,” Tweed said. “There will be different days in terms of loading and what she is doing. But she is doing things daily in an individual space, so when she comes back into the team training, she is prepared for everything that’s coming her way.”

To be able to get her in pieces with the team is huge, but to continue moving forward with her individual trading is also huge.”

Despite the lengthy (and ongoing) comeback, Press feels she has healed herself while being a part of Angel City. She built a community in Los Angeles and feels settled for the first time in her life.

“I bought a house,” Press said. “I have a home here, and it feels permanent. That is very different. In that, I have been able to build a community that I feel very cared for in and that has helped me heal.”

Press is excited about her eventual return to matches but also understands the importance of patience.

“No matter how zen I seem when I talk about it, you can’t help having your mind race towards the excitement of, if I check all these boxes and I make it on the fastest timeline, then I could make this game,” Press said. “You can’t help but do that.

“I try to embrace that excitement and not squander it, but then also temper it with the balance and the reality that this is not in my control and patience has been my best friend for the last 730 days and more.”

Press will stay the course. Tuesday’s participation in team training was a step closer to her comeback.

Source: The Sporting Tribune

[soullessjack]

i don’t think there’s anything new I can add to the performative-jack studies because it’s like..very cut and dry, guy who’s constantly perceived as a threat does his best to seem innocuous and friendly..but there is an underlying layer of exactly how jack tries to present himself to others (that I’ve definitely already posted about but whatever).

soo like. take this outline for example:

Jack: “He still has to be killed.” Cas: “Doing that might kill Dean as well, so [I] doubt any of [us] would be willing to do that.” Jack: “I would.”

‘Cas is a little shocked by how calmly Jack says this, and Jack says he knows what Cas is thinking; that this is Lucifer’s gene pool talking. It’s not. “I’m not my father. I’m not my mother. I’m me.”

“You’re all so focused on saving Dean, but Dean is Michael’s vessel. There’s a good chance Dean isn’t even alive. Is Jimmy Novak still alive?* Could anyone save him? It’s Michael. And Michael has to die.” ‘Cas stares at Jack, who looks coldly collected.

post-war jack is straight up traumatized and jaded by everything he’s seen and experienced in apocalypse world, still making efforts to be kind and sympathetic of course, but with a bit more edge to him now. for six months he’s been fixated on killing Michael, and he’s way more willing to do the Hard Thing (kill Dean) than he might’ve been before to do so (which actually reminds me a LOT of the chicken/snake story from ouroboros but we won’t get off subject).

obviously he still cares about/loves Dean, we’ve seen that in the rest of S14, but he’s also seen what Michael did to another world and wouldn’t put anything before preventing that. *he’s also very willing to hit Cas where it hurts with the Jimmy comment

but the thing that sticks out is Castiel immediately assuming that Jack’s calm, cold collectedness in the way he talks about killing Dean/Michael is somehow evidence of Lucifer’s influence or heritage; that Jack couldn’t possibly feel this way by himself. even Jack refutes it, stating that he’s neither of his parents (ie, it’s his own decision to kill Dean if it’s necessary). I think it’s also interesting he mentioned not being his mother, because I think that’s why Cas is so surprised by his demeanor and jumps to attribute it to Lucifer.

from day one Kelly’s heritage was the only argument Sam and Cas had against the idea that Jack would be evil. to be fair, Jack does take after Kelly a lot; he even looks like her to some extent. but treating Kelly’s heritage as the It-factor that makes Jack good, treating him as basically an extension of Kelly who must be good and kind because she was good and kind (literally an inverse of how Lucifer’s heritage is treated) is still just dehumanizing.

the distrust he faces is understandable coming from AU Bobby and people who are being actually displaced and exterminated by Michael, but the fact that Jack is subject to the same scrutiny from his own chosen father as well adds to why he represses these parts of himself so much, why he puts on that naive nuclear-son personality and basically butters everyone up all the time.

I think the only times when Jack has actually unmasked himself were at points of extreme low empathy, because most of the time his facade is put on for the sake of other people and the fear they feel towards him. he obviously wouldn’t have to worry about that while he’s human, but like I said, he’s literally a war veteran/criminal by this point. he’s gonna have a little more edge to him than before, and a little less empathy for the small things.

the second and probbaly more obvious one is his behavior while soulless, completely lacking the empathy required to care about keeping up his facade—so much so that he just bluntly tells Mary that he’s annoyed by everyone eggshell-walking around him like he’s a time bomb again. then, *checks script* like a flip switched, he goes back to that facade and reassures Mary that he knows they’re doing it out of love. He’s blatantly performing his emotional responses now.

jack is still soulless for like…three (?) episodes in S15, and still incapable of really feeling any emotion despite being able to logically process them. like he is literally so empty inside that he resorts to binge eating to feel some kind of sensation. but he’s consistently playing up the happy-go-lucky shtick when he isn’t just depressed and withdrawn (especially the church basement scene where he immediately gets the dumb Bambi look when he sees Cas after his failed cannibalism attempt).

got a headache while writing this so I’ll just leave it here but like. A Lot of the reason why Jack performs so much is because specific traits he shows are not only taken as threats, but are also associated with Lucifer and treated as signs of his “true nature” <- click that link it’s important for context

Mk that’s all byeeee (*´ -`)

[furiousgoldfish]

I have a question relating to osdd, about alters potentially merging or just switching.

I've had an alter split off a year ago, who was then in control of the body for 6 months, before we finally switched back to me, the host. I've been in control ever since. One of the issues I've ran into is not being able to access my anger, it seemed that the alter grabbed the angry part of me and ran off with it, so I've been struggling to feel or express any anger at all.

Lately I've been dealing with life very badly; I've been glued to bed, hopeless, depressed, fighting suicidal thoughts constantly. Then something triggered me that made me so mad I've been fuming for several days, wanting to murder everyone in sight (I was still motionless in bed, just having violent fantasies). Afterwards, I started feeling unexplainably happy, suddenly I could move again, I became unable to rest because sitting or lying down made me feel restless, like I should be doing something else. I didn't complain because there's tons of chores to do, but after a few days I noticed how bizarre this was, and that this 'chore-chasing happy behaviour' was typical for the split-off alter, and not me. So I started considering that maybe we switched. For a few days I've been trying to figure out which one am I, and I couldn't find the answer. I tried looking in the mirror to see if I recognize myself, and I can't tell for sure. I tried to see if I can have suicidal thoughts, and I can't, which is their usual attitude, but it's possible my protective alter is just blocking them. I then tried to see if I can make changes in the inner world, but again, I wasn't sure. It's all very confusing and my tests do not work. Split-off alter couldn't do relaxing activities, but right now I am able to relax. Split-off alter also had severely limited memories, but I can remember most things, or so it seems (it's impossible to tell if you don't remember something because... you don't remember it).

Based on this introspection, I started thinking that maybe we merged. Because if I was the split-off alter right now, I would feel the original host somewhere inside me, still being hopeless and suicidal, but I don't feel that, I can't see them in the inner world or talk to them, and the opposite is the same. If I am the original host, then I can't see or talk to the split-off alter, I can't find them anywhere.

I've been contemplating that we might have merged, very confused as what prompted it, maybe the rage trigger? I've seen some resources about how others feel when alters merge, and it seemed like a lot more harmonious event where the alters got along and had the same opinions and goals. For us this was never true, we were against each other all the way. But we did both want to merge back.

If we have merged, I am shocked at the result, because merging back is all I wanted, I wanted so badly to be a bit more whole again, to have anger at my disposal again, but this is NOT who I've been before. I guess it was naive of me to believe that if we merged back, I would be that person again. I am not similar to what I was, I don't even feel comfortable using the same name. I don't know if it's because of the anger triggering all this but I feel like anger is overpowering any and all of my senses.

Is there any way to tell for sure what happened? Some way to check that I haven't tried? Or maybe only time will tell and I will figure it out in a few weeks when this settles down?

[808airsoftbros]

Life of Two Vampire Queens (IU/CL)

Author: Just another AI-written story that I came up with. Hope you enjoy and do check out my Masterlist

CL's POV

I took a deep breath as I stepped away from the throne, feeling the weight of centuries of ruling finally being lifted from my shoulders. The decision to retire had been a difficult one, but with my one-year-old baby, Y/N, growing up so quickly, I knew it was time to focus my attention on him.

As I moved into a cozy beachside mansion, I found joy in watching Y/N learn to walk and say his first adorable words. But the realization quickly hit me—now that I was retiring, I would have to homeschool the little troublemaker. Oh, how naive I was to think it would be a simple task. Life with Y/N was a series of near-disasters and constant mischief.

No matter how vigilant I was, he always seemed to find a way to stir up trouble. One minute I would turn my eyes away, and the next, he'd be dangling precariously from the chandelier.

It was one restless night when I woke up, sensing something was amiss. My heart raced, but instead of panicking, I trusted my instincts. I gently slipped out of bed, careful not to alert Y/N as I crept through the dark house.

His presence guided me, his scent like a compass, leading me to his whereabouts. I found him in the kitchen, sitting on the countertop, his tiny fingers tracing the edge of a sharp knife. The sight brought forth a mix of relief and frustration. "Y/N! You naughty rascal," I scolded, sweeping him up into my arms. "You could've hurt yourself!"

In that moment, I realized that raising Y/N would never be easy. But, as I looked into his innocent eyes, I couldn't help but find his mischief amusing. Life had become an adventure, filled with laughter and the occasional scream of terror. And somehow, amidst the chaos, I found joy.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months as Y/N continued to explore the world around him. Each day brought a new challenge, a new opportunity for him to test my patience and creativity.

Teaching a two-year-old was no easy feat, especially when his attention span rivalled that of a caffeinated squirrel. I tried to instill knowledge in him, from basic mathematics to the beauty of language, but his mischievous nature often got in the way.

One day, as we sat at the kitchen table, trying to learn the alphabet, Y/N decided it was an ideal time to toss his cereal across the room, creating a sea of colorful letters. I sighed, on the verge of exasperation. "Y/N, baby, we need to focus," I pleaded, desperately trying to regain his attention.

He giggled mischievously, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Cherwee!" he exclaimed, pointing at a random letter on the floor. I laughed, unable to resist the infectious joy that radiated from him. "It's not 'cherwee,' darling. It's 'three.' Can you say that?"

Y/N scrunched up his face, contemplating the word. After a moment of silence, he erupted with a high-pitched shriek. "Thwee!"

"Yes, close enough!" I praised him, clapping my hands.

Life with Y/N continued to be a whirlwind of laughter and chaos. Each day brought new adventures, from building pillow forts to attempting to bake cookies (which ended up resembling charcoal briquettes). Y/N was a constant reminder of the joys and challenges of motherhood.

One evening, as we snuggled together on the couch, Y/N cuddled into my arms, a contented hum escaping his lips. I watched him sleep peacefully, his tiny frame rising and falling with each delicate breath.

In those quiet moments, I reflected on the love that enveloped us. Yes, Y/N was a handful, constantly bringing mayhem into our lives. But he was also the embodiment of my love, a tiny piece of me that I cherished.

As Y/N dreamt, I tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, marveling at the beautiful mess he had made of our once orderly lives.

And in that moment, surrounded by the remnants of yet another adventure, I knew that the chaos was worth every scream, every giggle, and every hum.

Years passed, and Y/N grew from a mischievous toddler into a curious and spirited child.

Together, we navigated the ups and downs of parenthood, finding joy in the simplest of moments.

The beachside mansion stood witness to our journey, bearing the marks of our laughter and the echoes of our adventures. It continued to be a place of endless discoveries, where love flourished amidst chaos.

Author's POV

Lee Jieun, the newly crowned Vampire Queen, sat upon her majestic throne, adorned in her regal attire. Her royal duties took up most of her time, but there was one task that proved to be an even greater challenge: raising her two-year-old toddler husband, Lee Y/N.

As she presided over her kingdom, surrounded by advisors and courtiers, Y/N would cling to her leg and tug on her garments, yearning for her attention.

Jieun would force a smile, stifling any frustration that threatened to bubble up. After all, it wouldn't do for a queen to lose her composure in front of her subjects.

Her older sister, Lee Chaerin, observed this scene with amusement. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she leaned in closer to her sister, whispering, "Jieun, you're doing such a fantastic job ruling over these bloodsuckers. But perhaps it's time to call in reinforcements. Why not let Princess Kim Taeyeon look after the little troublemaker for a while?"

Jieun considered the suggestion. Taeyeon was a trusted ally and a capable babysitter.

Maybe it was time for her to take a much-needed break from the demands of parenthood. "You know what, Chaerin? I think that's a splendid idea. Let Taeyeon have a turn at keeping Y/N entertained." 

And so, during a particularly intense negotiation meeting with the neighboring werewolf clan, Princess Kim Taeyeon took charge of the mischievous toddler.

She carted him off to the playroom, where toys and distractions galore awaited.

Jieun breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the momentary respite. With her mind now free from the worries of hearing a tiny voice during important discussions, the queen focused on the matters at hand.

She deftly addressed each concern, displaying the grace and wisdom befitting of a ruler.

But just as she thought she had found her equilibrium, a shrill cry of longing pierced the serenity of the throne room. Jieun's heart sank as she recognized that unmistakable wail—it was Y/N.

She hurriedly excused herself and raced to the playroom, finding Y/N tucked in a corner, surrounded by toys he had flung to the floor during his tantrum. Her heart softened at the sight of his tear-streaked face, and she couldn't resist the urge to scoop him up into her arms. 

"There, there, my little one," Jieun cooed, gently rocking him back and forth. "Mama is here. Mama will always be here."

She kissed his forehead and carried him back to the throne room, where he nestled against her shoulder.

As she settled back onto her throne, she addressed her advisors, exuding a newfound determination. "From now on, I will manage both my duties as the Vampire Queen and my role as Y/N's guardian. I will show him the love and attention he deserves, regardless of where life takes me."

And so, Lee Jieun embraced the challenges of ruling her kingdom and raising her two-year-old toddler husband.

With a balance of patience, love, and the occasional interruption, she found a way to fulfill her responsibilities with unwavering grace.

As Y/N grew older, he became more accustomed to the courtly affairs, often joining Jieun during important meetings.

Together, they thrived, their unique dynamic becoming the talk of both vampire and human realms alike.

And so, the Vampire Queen and her remarkable toddler husband presided over their kingdom, leaving an indelible mark on the immortal world and proving that love knows no boundaries, even in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

"Yes! I shall conquer this throne!" Jieun proclaimed, hugging Y/N close, laughter filling the air.

[gayhoediaz]

"You were dead."

The words are spoken into the air of Eddie's kitchen, such a contrast to the warmth of the early morning sunshine and the sounds of the early birds that it all nearly seems to be mocking them both.

Buck swallows. Once. Twice.

Buck blinks. Once. Twice.

Eddie is still staring out of the small window above the sink, and Buck finds himself secretly appreciative of the fact that he doesn't have to look into his eyes.

"You were..." Eddie starts to repeat, but then he trails off, and it looks as if he's clutching the wall of the sink in his fists. "You were dead," he huffs, almost as if he's annoyed with how he's struggling to get the words out.

It's not that Buck doesn't know. Of course he does.

It's a fair conclusion to make - getting struck by direct lightning in the pouring rain, while standing on a metal ladder. Of course his heart stopped. He drew that conclusion fairly quickly.

There have also been conversations with doctors. With Maddie. With Bobby. With Hen. With Chim.

Just not with Eddie.

They haven't talked about it.

Three weeks, three days, and roughly twenty two hours since Eddie brought him home from the hospital.

Three weeks of physical therapy, three weeks of check ups.

Three weeks spent here. In Eddie’s house. Three weeks spent sleeping in Eddie’s bed while Eddie snores by his side.

Three weeks of breakfasts, and homework checks; three weeks of dinners, and movie nights.

They still haven’t talked about it.

Buck doesn't know if he was expecting them to ever talk about it.

They don't talk about a lot of things.

In fact, he was - somewhat naively - under the impression that they have a silent agreement. It was difficult enough to experience it once, we don't need to relive it. Let's move on.

He certainly hadn't been expecting to talk about it today. Finally cleared to drive, he just dropped Christopher off at school - and Eddie has the day off, so Buck had walked back into the house feeling quite cheerful as he envisioned the day ahead of them. Violent video games, and hip-checking each other as they fold laundry.

Now he feels sick.

Not because of the words that leave Eddie's mouth, but because of the way he says them. Breathless, and unsteady as if he's been holding them in ever since he drove him home from the hospital.

Wavering, as if he's holding back tears.

Buck swallows.

"I - I'm not, though," he says - which is a shitty answer, and he's fully aware of that fact. Clearly Eddie is too, judging by the huff of saddened amusement that leaves his nose. As if he's telling Buck to cut the shit without actually having to say the words. "Can you look at me?" Buck tries, then - although he's not sure who its for.

Eddie seems to take a beat, and then he finally turns around, leaning back against the sink as he curls his hands around the edge, reddened eyes meeting Buck's.

There's a tug somewhere in Buck's chest - a need to touch, to hug, to comfort. The same one he had all of those months ago when he found Eddie in the destroyed remains of his bedroom. Just like he did that night, Buck fights it. He needs Eddie to talk first. Maybe they both do.

"I was mad," Eddie finally says, nodding once. Then there's another huff, as if he finds himself pathetic, or perhaps ridiculous. "I was so mad."

Buck doesn't have to ask to know that Eddie doesn't mean mad at him. That he means mad at the lightning. Mad at the universe. Mad at Buck's heart for stopping - but not mad at Buck.

Buck doesn't have to ask because he knows.

Of course he knows.

Only Eddie doesn't have a person with a sniper rifle to blame. Eddie doesn't have anyone to be angry with. Not the same way Buck did.

"I know."

Eddie doesn’t say anything to that, but the beat that follows - the synced breath they share - that’s enough of a response.

“You know…” Eddie starts then, trailing off to rub a hand over his chin, his eyes wandering over their surroundings for a moment before he settles his eyes back on Buck’s. “…when you told me that it should have been you who was shot, I thought that that was you just... being you."

"Thinking I was expendable?" Buck asks, placing a hand on the back of one of the dining chairs as he ducks his head and looks back up at Eddie. He cracks a smile, attempting to inject some lightness into the situation. It doesn't really work.

"And I was right," Eddie nods. "But what I also didn't think about - what I... didn't have time to think about..." he trails off, his gaze falling to the floor for a beat as he shrugs his eyebrows. "What I didn't wanna think about..." he trails off again, and looks up at Buck. "Was what you went through."

Buck tries to take a deep breath, though he finds he can't get quite enough air into his lungs.

"Eddie..."

"It was all I could think," Eddie says. "It should have been me."

"No," Buck shakes his head. "No, it shouldn't have-"

"I know that," Eddie interrupts. "...but I still felt it," he tells him. "Then I... had a lot of time to think - too much time to think. About you, about me, about..." he trails off for a breath, as if he's gathering courage. "...about us."

"Us," Buck repeats, but it's not a request for clarification. He's just tasting the word.

"I uh... thought a lot about..." Eddie clears his throat, then. "About everything we've been through, and the..." he trails off, a bitter, sharp laugh leaving his lips. "...the utter fucking panic at the thought of a world without you in it..." he shakes his head. "...not just my world, but any world, I can't..." he shakes his head again, and he's doing a good job with keeping his tears at bay, but Buck still can't help but take a small step in his direction, watching carefully as Eddie runs a hand over his face, and then lets it drop to hang limp by his side. "Buck, you were dead, and I was too. I would have kept going for Chris, but I would have been dead because... you are my life. Our life. And - sometimes I don't think you know just how much people l-"

"Eddie," Buck lets himself interrupt softly, as he leans against the counter next to him, and allows his hand to cradle the side of his face, trying desperately not to think about the last and only time he ever held him in this way.

Eddie sighs, and lets Buck turn his face to the side, leaning into the touch.

"You're my life too."

[xxswagcorexx]

grabs u by the shoulder. hey. hey u. have you've ever wanted to learn about a mcrp arc with themes about violence and the death of innocence, scary arcane experiments, political murder, and interdimensional travel where u meet alternative versions of urself?

well if any of that sounds awesome to you, BOY DO I JUST HAVE THE THING FOR YOU!!! midmysticx's egg arg in lifesteal season 4 has all of that!!! it had to be cut off short because of meta reasons, but with what was released so far, it was. So Cool .

now i HIGHLY recommend checking this out for yourself (a curated playlist that i made can be found here! it's pretty short but. imo the themes of it carry it in SUCH an interesting way), but if you don't have the time/want more. propaganda reasons why you should watch it, there's more under the cut!

(mild cw though for the "having a voice in your head through magic items/powers" trope! it plays a very small part in the story, but i'd figure i'd give a heads up just in case 👍)

ok so like. this arg happens in the canon of lifesteal season 4 (lifesteal seasons fully reset like hc seasons) and the main "progatanist" of this arg is c!midmysticx/c!mid, and most of the "lore" is told in the format of vhs tapes

that being said, c!mid is a little confusing in the way that s4!mid is implied to be a different character that c!mid from other seasons

i say that bc s4!mid made an "application video" for lifesteal, citing about how shes excited to join (even tho cc!mid has been a part of ls since s2)

also. very interestingly, mid excludes herself from the s4 start in a replay shot (even tho cc!mid was present during the s4 launch)

and interesting enough, s4!mid seems a bit. naive in the application video? like she mentions she's "good at editing" as one of her attributes on why she should be added to the server and mentions. nothing about the violence of the server (other than introducing the mechanics of the server which is LITERALLY about killing people to gain hearts and losing hearts when you get killed)

halfway through her application video, though (after a few months passed according to the date on the bottom of each video) she sounds very. bitter

the video changes to be all in black and white and she starts asking: "why? why do you all kill and ruin friendships and betray? all for hearts?!"--a MUCH different demeanor than what she had when she started. bitter and resentful, almost, compared with the excitement she showed earlier in her "application", and it ends with her announcing she stole the dragon egg and she's made 4 trials for people to look for it

anyways, moving onto the first tape that takes place ~around 2 months before the shift in demeanor, s4!mid starts to record video tapes about experiments she's doing with the dragon egg, eventually combining a heart with the dragon egg and opens up a portal

she doesnt know what on Earth it is so. shes testing it out right. like any person with safety concerns would

and well uh.

she puts a pig through and it fucking died

so . Erm! not a good start

anyways she eventually feels a voice/urge calling her to go through the portal even though she knows its risky, but she's been having such bad headaches that she goes through the portal anyways, ditching her plans to figure out how to control the power of the egg before going through it

and uh. heres where things get confusing again because this is where. the interdimensional stuff comes in

she arrives in an unknown location right. and. jumpscare . it ends up being a manor (and i'm just gonna call this mid "murder mystery!mid" bc the manor is the same one in one of her other videos, a halloween special where mid + co do a whodunit)

and basically, s4!mid witnesses a mayor election (which is a big part of murder mystery!mid's story), and after s4!mid explores for a little, s4!mid and murder mystery!mid eventually . make eye contact

and um. you see. s4!mid accidently eavesdrops (im assuming so? there's a tape of that and its been established that s4!mid films all of them herself) on murder mystery!mid's plan to kill the mayor and Uh. s4!mid. ends up also witnessing murder mystery!mid's murder as well

s4!mid gets chased and has to go back to the portal to escape, but the issue is. the portal doesnt bring her back to lifesteal. it brings her to eclipse smp

AND FUCKING BRINGS HER TO ECLIPSE!MID'S GRAVE

she eventually sees someone crying over eclipse!mid's grave before going away into the woods before hearing a sound and running away

that's where the arg (unfortunately) had to be cut off but like. Still. the part that makes me constantly rotate this arg in my head is the fact mid literally saw her own death. the different versions of her. her witnessing a version of her that was Willing to commit murder. the whole change in demeanor in the application video in such a short time .

anyways, if i had to homebrew an "ending" to this arg, i think mid would have traced back and started to Learn more about the other versions of herself, and eventually had a character arc where she just. witnesses all of this destruction and pain and suffering

and just. Realizes how much of that there can be and realizes how much stuff like that effects lifesteal and how. pointless it is in the end.

and eventually, in a last ditch effort to have everyone work together again and despite all she's been through, makes the egg arg

also on a meta level it would make sense i think (since a lot of the actual arg puzzles involved trust and working together and trusting your teammates)

and on the topic of the egg arg meta, it fucking worked. the lifestealers did work together and put trust in each other even when threatened with death to solve the arg.

it did bring lifesteal together. even just for a little bit

and i am just. man thats fucking cool!!!!!!

not to mention just. the cool character study stuff you can do on c!mid. the thought of seeing yourself throughout all of this. realizing about how these things can effect you in different ways. witnessing your own death TWICE. and by the time to come up because of it, you're a changed person on a fundamental level. and in the end, looking at the thing that caused all of this, and throwing it out there in a last ditch effort to make things right again. in the worst scenario. even though you're bitter and angry now. you try anyways.

that concept is so. cool to me . i wish more people talked about it but yk. this is me throwing my hat into the ring

egg arg my beloved fr <3

[gaycelebtea]

My Juantin thoughts

After watching them for the past few weeks I have a few thought/opinions. This will be brutally honest. I am a Juantin fan, but I also have some negative thoughts/opinions.

Background

Right, so lets start at the beginning. A few weeks ago I got an anon talking about Juantin. By then I had also gotten a few Juantin tiktoks on my fyp on tiktok. It made me curious, so I decided to check them out. I have been burned before by fake showmances in reality shows (zankie, ugh), which is why I didn't get on it right away. I know sometimes they play up relationships/friendships to get more views. And when they didn't kiss I thought it was fake. I thought if they were real they would kiss. Then they kissed, and my mind changed. I now realize it's the other way around though. Overtly kissing in front of the cameras is what a showmance is (at least if they're both gay, straight queerbaiters would just hug a lot). I understand they wanted to keep that part private. It's admirable. And since that first kiss they have only kissed a handful of times on screen. As much as I'm selfish and would like to see more kisses, I respect their decision. That's my long wided way of saying I got into them too late, just a few weks ago, because at first I thought it was a showmance. When I realized it was real, I really liked them, but it was towards the end, so I haven't seen as much of them as others have. I haven't been watching for 3 months, only like 2 or 3 weeks.

My opinion on Juantin

As for me being brutally honest: I have no doubt Martin is in love. He would never ever lie about being in love. It's also quite obvious by the way he looks at Juanjo. I also read that he has been hurt by a boy before, standing in the rain waiting for him but he never showed (ugh, how could anyone stand him up? He is a puppy!) This is his first relationship, it's a bit puppy love type. He is smitten and maybe a bit naive? I love Martin, he is such a great down to earth guy with his head screwed on right. You know his parents raised him well. So I don't want to see him hurt or taken advantage of.

Juanjo

As for Juanjo... I don't know. Do I think he is attracted to Martin, that he is infatuated and cares about him? Of course. No doubt. Do I think he's in love? I'm not so sure. I know he had said "te amo" to Martin inside, but it's easy to say that in the moment. I noticed after that... on the outside, that Juanjo haven't really talked about Martin in that way? Sure, he has commented on their relationship, that he cares about him. But Martin said he was in love with him in the video when he was evicted. Where was that from Juanjo??? All he said was Martin was his pillar, which is sweet, don't get me wrong, but nowhere near what Martin said about Juanjo. Juanjo didn't say he was in love with Martin. Sometimes I get the feeling Juanjo is hesitant. He seems a bit standoffish from Martin in interviews. They don't seem as close, and it's usually Juanjo who is stand-offish and doesn't initiate contact as much. Martin has heart eyes still, while Juanjo hasn't showed that in interviews (not to the degree of Martin anyway). I have noticed because I am good at reading between the lines. It's not so much about them touching each other, but in other moments when they aren't affectionate. I just got a bad fewling from Juanjo. I think Juanjo got caught up in the moment, he needed to be close to someone. I think he likes Martin, but I also get the feeling that Martin has stronger feelings for Juanjo than Juanjo has for Martin. Several other people have picked up on it, because I have seen several comments saying Juanjo doesn't feel the same way (at least not as strongly), and he will probably break up with him. It breaks my heart because Martin is so head over heels in love. I just hope I'm wrong, but when I have a gut feeling it's usually not wrong. Then again... they are different and have different ways of showing their emotions and how they feel. I have just noticed a shift in how they act on the outside vs on the inside, especially from Juanjo.

Juanjo was robbed

I know it's possible Juanjo was hurt and tired. He expected more. He was robbed in the final. He knows it and we know it. That might explain why he has not been the happy, outgoing touchy-feely guy we're used to seeing on the inside. He has also been reading A LOT, and I mean A LOT of hate since he got out. No wonder he almost cried in an interview saying he would cotninue to see the OT psychologist also on the outside. He was treated badly by the instructors inside the house (I remember reading he got a lot of critcism in the beginning? That he needed to grow or something? Despite having the best male voice), then there's the hate from homophobes and others who just hated Juantin and how big it got. I have also seen a lot of hate from gays themselves. They wrote horrible things about Juanjo in particular, that he was a famewhore and golddigger and only used Martin for attention and fame. They said the only person he was in love with was himself. I don't agree. I think he was confident in his singing, and maybe it came off as a bit arrogant at times. But to see gays celebrate Juanjo and Martin getting evicted and end up in the bottom 3 makes me sick. Sadly when people said "Juantin" was their downfall, they might have been right. Naiara's face at the final gala said it all. She was shocked he ended up 4th. The sad thing is Juanjo didn't seem shocked. He just seemed indifferent and resigned. I think he knew about the hate and had a bad feeling.

Why I think Juanjo was robbed

I see some speculation as to why they got so few votes and ended up in the bottom 3. Personally I think Juantin got too big and people who weren't into it got annoyed. Then you have the disgusting hate from the LGBT community itself, full of envious and jealous people. Homophobes played a big part too. Then the hate campaign from other fanbases (Paul's fans, I'm looking at you). It's mystifying how Paul ended up in 2nd place. I don't get the appeal at all. He seems like a nice enough guy, but he has no personality and his singing is sub-par. No way he should have gotten 2nd. But I guess this is more of a personality contest than a singing contest. Paul seemed sweet, non-threatening with a mellow personality, so he had few haters. He wasn't overtly gay either. On the other hand you had Juanjo, with his big personality, and who was confident, which could come across as arrogant and famewhorish. I think people just didn't like his personality, sadly. If he had a quiet, laid back personality, more like Lucas and Paul he would have ended in the top 3, possibly 2. If he was straight he would have won imo. I know Paul is gay too, but nobody saw him kiss another boy. He had few homophobic haters yet Juanjo got a ton just because he was in love with another man. He was also more obviously gay than Paul, which homophobes probably didn't like. It makes me sad.

Summary

Tl;dr: It's possible Martin has stronger feelings for Juanjo than the other way around. I'm not sure it will last but I hope I'm wrong because I like them together. As for how they got such poor results in the final, it's complicated, but imo it's due to hate campaigns, fan wars, homophobia, jealous gays and people who just didn't like Juanjo (as I said it's a personality contest) and who were annoyed with Juantin and the Juantin fans.

[barmans-fault]

You made a good point of how this staged photoshoot will lead to increased exposure and ticket sales esp ahead of the US tour, because correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think all their US dates are sold out? They’re not as popular in the states and it’s been a couple months since I checked but I only saw a handful of shows that showed sold out. All this just reminds us of a curated version we have of him. Someone who likes privacy and wants to be lowkey doesn’t date attention seekers consistently and calls the paps on themselves. He just lost all credibility he had

Words of wisdom here from a lovely anon and thank you for sharing these thoughts, i agree with every word 💘

I think people generally get very caught up in the whole "alex is a romantic little prince too busy with his mind on clever lines he's innocent and private and not like other celebs and his privacy has been violated" narrative and tend to forget how much of a business this whole thing is.

The primary purpose of any business, be that show business or not, is to make money. The band is an asset that needs to generate revenue. American market has huge potential for that, alas, as the anon above correctly pointed out, very few of the US shows are sold out at this point, just a month ahead of the tour and the sales need to be boosted. The best strategy would definitely be to hype it up a little. American audience seems to be really into the whole straight dominant greaser bad boy persona (where do you think all those endless alex/your name fics with that shitty 50 shades of grey vibes come from?) and the target audience must be catered for. Both parties benefit: Alex gets the publicity of a cool rockstar kind of tired of his fame with a beautiful gf by his side on an expensive posh Italian resort. The pictures will now be all over insta/twitter/tiktok igniting interest in new fans and rekindling the old ones. The girls will fantasise about taking Louise's place in his arms (oh to be a girlfriend of this rich handsome millionaire musician who is also intelligent and talented and famous and who will fuck you like a whore then treat you like a princess!) and the boys will be jealous of him and his beautiful French girlfriend, wanting to be like him (oh to be this rich handsome millionaire and get all the girls!). Some more tickets will be sold, some more records, some more merch, and a couple of tens (or hundreds) of thousands of dollars will be made. Louise on the other hand, will get more followers and will have more ads, which will also lead to more revenue for her and hence whoever is managing her. Not bad, no?

Alex is usually perceived as a poet with his head in the clouds, an ethereal creature, a poetic and storytelling genius, vulnerable, autistic woodland creature, too exquisite for earthly problems, fragile and defenseless. He is, however, in no way disconnected from reality or too naive not to know how the business works - after all, he's been in it for almost twenty years. And I am supposed to believe his privacy has been violated when it has hardly been violated for the 5 years he was hiding from everyone and no paparazzi whatsoever gave a fuck about him? Oh give me a break. His net worth is estimated to be millions of dollars, same as the band. He is one of the richest rock stars of the generation. I am not saying it is a bad thing - well deserved, he is a genius after all, - but money, even for geniuses, has to be earned. Their music is a product that needs to be sold, and their public image is one of the means to increase those sales.

I do not think that Alex or Louise called the paps themselves last minute - I am pretty sure the whole thing has been set up by the management in advance, with Alex's explicit consent. Again, it is just a marketing strategy which the sales and marketing department decided to go with in order to maximise the revenue. Why would Alex refuse? And please spare me the argument of 'he doesn't need any more money'. Maybe he doesn't (although i am not sure), but the band and the whole machine working for them definitely does as it employs hundreds of people who need to get their paychecks from this whole thing. Mr. Schwarz is staying strong for them, remember?

Once this is all over, the tour is over, the contracts are done and he disappears without a trace, we'll remember this and count how many times paps will ever try to take pictures of him or his gf (zero, mark my words).

Thank you for coming to my ted talk (or thesis defence, more like)♥️

[bisexualduckling00]

the first who ever did || ch. 1

at arms length

length: 2500 words

rating: m (language, brief mentions of sex)

chapter summary: Holy mother of god, those pants were tight. How did he even… no. Now was most definitely not the time to be questioning your new partner’s… sizes. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties, with tousled brown hair and a broad chest that was only further accentuated by those goddamn jeans.

an: i started writing/posting this on ao3 back in january but i thought she deserved a home here too! i'm up to ch.4 + an interlude which are all up on ao3 right now. i'll post everything else on here too when i get around to it!

You sighed as you surveyed your half-furnished apartment. A wooden counter separated your small yet functional kitchen from the main living space. An atrocious pink and blue floral print couch pressed against the wall was the unfortunate focal point of the room. You’d have to change that, eventually. The three other doors led to the bathroom, a storage closet, and your bedroom. Even though your room was barely bigger than the closet.

Still, you smiled to yourself. After having shared a room with two other agents at the sharehouse in Sinaloa, this was a breath of fresh air. Even if it was stuffy as hell. The Bogotá DEA office had set you up in your own space in the agency complex. You had been told that there were other agents in the building, although you had yet to meet them. Hopefully your apartment would be in better shape when that happened. It was still too lonely. Too empty. It wasn’t a home yet.

It was going to be ok, though. You would make this place your home, dammit. 

Tomorrow was your first day at the embassy, and you were determined to make this position work. You would be happy here. God knows you needed a fresh start after what happened in Sinaloa. You had a new city, a new case, and a new partner. Apparently his partner was taking a personal leave for several months, and they desperately needed someone to replace him. Of course they did, this is fucking Escobar that you’re dealing with.

On second thought, maybe optimism was a naive approach to this. No, you shook your head, as if that would shake the thoughts from your mind as well. Yes, it was dangerous. But it was no more of a risk than when you had been working in Mexico. Like you said: a fresh start. 

-

Holy mother of god, those pants were tight.

How did he even… no. Now was most definitely not the time to be questioning your new partner’s… sizes. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties, with tousled brown hair and a broad chest that was only further accentuated by those goddamn jeans. You couldn’t help but notice that his beige shirt was unbuttoned just one button too much, with orange tinted aviators hanging from the collar. You stepped forward, hoping that you looked more confident than you felt. “Hi,” you extended your hand, introducing yourself with your name. 

With his hands on his hips, he gave you a quick once over before returning the favor. You couldn’t help but notice how warm he was, how firmly he grasped your hand, how perfectly your hand fit inside his own. “Javier Peña.” You hadn’t expected him to sound like that either. All deep and husky. Fuck, you had to stop this. Now.

The week passed in a rapid blur of paperwork and humidity. Agent Peña showed you around the first day, of course. Everyone seemed to keep busy and you quickly realized why. Between phone calls, documenting, checking out leads, and drinking five cups of bitter coffee a day, you barely had time to eat lunch and were often too tired to shower at the end of the day. Not that you’d let anyone know that, though.

Throughout the week you also caught small snippets of insight into Javier. Immediately you noticed how much this man smoked. He must’ve gone through at least a packet a day. He was grumpy at his best, and straight up rude at his worst. But beneath that veneer, you could tell there was something else. Some pent up frustration. Something simmering just under the surface that you could tell he struggled to rein in every day. 

It was late Friday afternoon, and you were just about done with the day’s work. Across the desk, Agent Peña’s attention was focused on the folder in front of him. You cleared your throat gently, hoping to get his attention. He mumbled something that sounded close to a “Salud.” 

“Agente Peña,” you tried again. This time, he looked up at you with a raised brow. Taking this as permission to continue, you did. “I was wondering, well, some of the others are going out for a drink tonight and…” You risked a quick glance at his expression, which remained blank. How incredibly not helpful. “And seeing that it’s my first week and I’m trying to settle in and you’re my partner…” You trailed off again, a blush rising to your cheeks from his stare and his still raised eyebrow. “I thought you could maybe come with me. As a buffer of sorts,” you finished lamely.

He waited a moment before responding. “Javier’s fine. We’re co-workers. No need to be so formal.” You nodded, waiting for him to say more. “As for the drink, it’s been a long week and I’ve got a nice bottle of whiskey waiting for me at home.” Your face immediately fell, and Javier must’ve noticed. “Thank you for the offer, though,” he said through a small smile.

-

You still joined your co-workers that night. Like you said, you wanted to settle in. Hopefully make a few new friends. However, as you sat alone at the bar, you began to worry if that had merely been wishful thinking. You halfheartedly sipped at your drink, ready to give up and go home. That was until a flash of blue sat next to you.

“You’re the newbie, right? Steve’s replacement?” A pair of straight white teeth smiled at you. You smiled back at the handsome man seated next to you.

“That wouldn’t be the way that I would have said it, but yes. I’m filling in for Steve until he gets back.”

“I’m Marcus,” He shook your hand. It wasn’t as warm and firm as Javier’s. You introduced yourself as well. “So, how’s it going with Peña? He driving you out of your fucking mind yet?”  

“No,” you said without hesitation. “He’s just…” you thought back to the week. His constant smoking, grunting, and frowning. But you also remembered the smaller things, like the coffee he’d bring you or the tiny glimpse of smile that would appear when you’d try to crack a joke. But mostly, he seemed tired. Of what, you weren’t entirely sure, but his attitude was understandable. “Reserved.”

Marcus let out a laugh that splintered into something like the noise a rooster makes. “Reserved? You might as well have a mustache and a hillbilly ass accent to be saying that!”

What.

“Javier is notorious for, well, just about everything when it comes to those of your gender.” Ah. Agent Peña had a bit of a reputation, it seemed. “I can’t imagine him being reserved around someone as pretty as you.” Marcus leaned in closer. You could smell the beer on his breath. “His loss for not seeing what I am.” His gaze dropped to your chest, lingering for a beat too long for comfort.

“Well Marcus,” you clutched your purse. “As lovely as it was meeting you, I’ve got to get going.” You didn’t bother making up an excuse before standing up and politely saying goodbye.

In bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Marcus had said. Was something wrong with you? It wasn’t that you wanted Javier to hit on you. God, no. But you wanted him to… like you. To respect you. You wanted more than the gruff demeanor and the lack of conversation beyond “Good Morning” and “Bye.” You wanted camaraderie, if not friendship. You wanted a partner. 

Stop it. You scolded yourself. It’s only been a fucking week and you’re already acting like an insecure little girl. And you haven’t been her for a long time. This was a professional relationship, and nothing more. It was stupid to wish for more than that.

-

Steve’s replacement was definitely something. You were sweet and eager and friendly, a little bit too much so, maybe. Javier liked Steve. Liked their easy banter and late-night beers. Mostly, though, he liked that Steve wasn’t one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen. Also, Steve didn’t ask too many questions. Didn’t try to pry, to force anything. Didn’t have such a sweet smile or supple lips. 

Fuck.

Javier liked sex. It was a simple fact. He didn’t let other people's judgemental stares or demeaning whispers get in the way of that. If he found a willing partner, he was more than happy to bring them both pleasure for a night or two. And he wasn’t too ashamed to pay for it either. Sex work is work, and Javier respects the services that the women provide.

However, lusting over a coworker, his new partner, no less, that was something he didn’t do. Until now, apparently. Javier knew that he had to draw a strict line between business and pleasure. Usually, he’d happily let that line blur into nothingness, but not this time. Yes, you got on his nerves, but he could tell that you were honest and a hard worker. Something that they desperately needed more of right now.

Javier would put this behind him. He had to.

-

Only two weeks into the job and you were already exhausted. You slumped in the hallway of your apartment complex, letting your head fall back against the cool concrete wall. It wasn’t that this work was harder than what you had been doing in Mexico, it was just a million times more stressful.

Directly across from your apartment was Javier’s. Despite this, you rarely saw him at all. The most you got was the sound of his door shutting as he returned home late in the night. Was he home now? It was probably too late, anyways. But he stayed up late. Before you could change your mind, or even consider what the hell you were doing, you crossed the hallway and gently knocked at his door.

Carajo. This was the worst idea you’d ever had. You immediately turned around, fully prepared to hide under your covers and pretend this had never happened. But before you got the chance, you heard the door open and Javier’s deep grumble of your name.

Double Fuck.

“Javier, hiii,” you smiled, knowing it was far too big. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I live here. You know that.” His hair was even messier than usual and he was wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and jeans that hung low on his hips. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, almost taking up the entire space.

“Yep. Just double checking. Glad to see you’re still here, goodnight!” You turned to make your escape, wondering why you had thought knocking was a good idea.

“Did you want to come in or did you just knock on my door for the fun of it? Like a teenage boy.” Javier deadpanned. Shit. You couldn’t just leave now, could you?

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’ll come in. To your house.” Fuckfuckfuck this was awkward. Why did he let you in? Why did you knock? 

His apartment smelled like him. Like tobacco and whiskey and cinnamon. You took it in, noticing how much more lived in his place was than yours. It felt like a home. From the worn-down leather sofa draped with a colorful quilt to the leftover dishes in the sink, it exuded Javier.

“¿Quieres algo de tomar?” Javier already had two glasses ready.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you said with a smile. Hopefully it was something strong because you could sure as hell use something to calm yourself down. The couch nearly engulfed you with it’s worn-in seat and soft, smokey leather sent. You felt something cool being gently pressed against your knuckles. You looked up to see Javier offering you a glass of iced Coke. “No whiskey?” you asked, gratefully accepting the drink, even if it wouldn't calm you down in the way you'd hoped.

He shook his head, sitting on the chair across from you. “Not tonight.” You watched as he swallowed, intrigued by how thick his neck was. You could see each muscle doing its part as he took a long sup. “So, why are you,” he gestured his hands around them “here?”

“You invited me in, remember?”

“Nice try,” Javier smirked, his plump lips curling ever so slightly. “Why did you knock on my door?” You had to answer him. Saying ‘I’m not sure, I just saw it there and thought that maybe I wanted to see you’ didn’t seem like the right one. 

“I thought you could give me some advice,” you half-lied. “It’s just been difficult adjusting. Obviously. I don’t mean to sound naive, I didn’t expect this job to be easy.” You looked up at his reaction to see his attention fully on you. His face didn’t betray any emotion, but it wasn’t like last time, with his blank stare that made you feel silly. This time, it felt like he was truly listening to you, without judgment or scorn. It made you feel safe enough to continue. “I just didn’t expect it to be this hard, either.”

A touch of a smile spread across his features. “I remember when I first started. Ages ago. I was probably close to your age, actually.” You almost clarified that he wasn’t that much older than you, but you didn’t want to interrupt. “Colombia’s a big change, no matter what you’re used to. There's a lot of shit going on here, and not a lot of resources to clean it up with. Even with all the good people we have working with us, it never feels like it’s enough.”

You could see the weight in his words. The way his body sagged, as if years of bearing the burden had physically taken its toll on him. “But it is, right? It is enough?” Javier inhaled sharply. “It has to be,” you murmured, feeling a piece of his daily burden shift to your shoulders.

“To being enough,” Javier raised his glass.

“To being enough,” you repeated, letting the cool, fizzy drink and this newfound common ground calm the incessant buzzing you had felt since knocking on his door.

The next several minutes passed in comfortable silence, the two of you sipping at your drinks as you continued to observe his space. You noted some mismatched and honestly, strange artwork on his walls, as well as a photo of a man you assumed to be his father. You could see the resemblance between the two. They had the same soft, warm eyes, starkly contrasted by the chiseled line of their jaws. 

Again, you inhaled the scent, his scent. It was heady and overwhelming, making your head slightly dizzy. Hell, you didn't need whiskey, you were getting drunk off of his scent alone. But no, you reminded yourself. Now wasn't the time to let your lust and loneliness fog up the moment. You two had connected. Maybe friendship wasn't such a naive notion. If you could stop getting lost in your lusty thoughts, that is.

You smiled inside. “Thank you, Javier. I appreciate this. A lot.”

“Javi.” You glanced up in surprise. “You should, uh, call me Javi. We’re not just coworkers. We’re partners.”

This time you smiled outside too. “Javi,” you nodded, savoring the way his name sounded on your tongue.

[sanccharine]

00:21 | hd + gh

pairing: handong and gahyeon x gn!reader 

genre: fluff

word count: 0.8k 

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: this was inspired by handong’s recent instagram post, also i did write this in the last hour,,,so it is probably filled to the brim with mistakes sorry :D

It’s not often you meet your friends. So when you do, it seems unreal. 

You lost count of the hours you’ve spent at this bar, underneath the darkening sky and only warmed by candle fire. Having not finished even half the glass of wine, you were already losing focus, although you’d blame the company instead of the alcohol. 

That’s not to say the present company was bad. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Gahyeon and Handong in person. 

Clashes with work and missed opportunities, struggling with large time zones and packed schedules, and mostly the fact that all three of you were scattered across the world. After spending every second with them during your college years, depending on them after every misfortune… it was strange to separate, to go different paths. To go from texting every day to failed attempts at video calls to quick updates every few months. 

It was isolating and disheartening. 

Yet here you are, in front of them, as if not a single second passed. Able to pick up right where you left off, many years' worth of conversations and secrets and anecdotes came flowing endlessly. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted, you couldn’t stop sharing or listening.

This is why you weren’t sure when you stopped paying attention to Gahyeon’s tale but instead focused on just soaking the pair in. Watching Handong’s little smirks before her gentle sips of wine when Gahyeon has to place her glass down to talk animatedly, eyes wide and gestures expressive. They were slightly turned to each other, all in their own little world. 

At the beginning of your friendship, you often found yourself far away from the two, unincluded in a moment such as this. The thought seems so ridiculous now, you had been so naive and insecure because at this moment, all you wanted was to observe them… just exist alongside them.

Body reacting to your thoughts, your hand was already in your pocket, searching for your phone. 

Like you’ve done a million times before, you opened the camera, switched off the flash, focused on the pair and caught them mid-conservation. As always, they will be none the wiser. You have so many more moments like these, of the two of them, none of which they are privy to because they’re for you to admire. 

You studied the picture on your phone when Gahyeon suddenly asked. “Is everything okay?” 

The moment those words were uttered your neck snapped up, worried that something was wrong. Instead, you found both Handong and Gahyeon sharing concerned looks trained on you. Glimpsing at your phone, a smile forms on your lips when you see the candid moment you captured; Gahyeon was grinning widely with her hand covering her mouth, while she shared a glass of red wine with Handong, who wore a similar warm smile. 

“Hmm, no, everything is fine—let me take photos!” In an instant, their concern was replaced by exaggerated groans, you chuckled while steadying your phone. 

“Do we have to?” Handong whined, although her actions seemed to disagree as she was straightening herself. 

Shaking your head, you waited for them to get ready. Or at least, you pretended to. 

Double-checking that the flash was turned off, you snapped multiple pictures of the pair, some with them fixing their hair, wine glasses placed on the table before being taken back, most with them deciding on how to pose. Would they complain your ears off if they found out that you took these pictures? Yes, absolutely, but again, these were for you to laugh at. 

“Are you guys done?” You asked with a sigh, but still lighthearted. 

Handong only rolled her eyes in response as she posed with her wine glass in hand, looking away from the camera, Gahyeon followed her. Then they placed their glasses down, deciding to lay on each other as they stared right at you through your phone screen. Gahyeon seemed like she was pouting while Handong had a soft smile. Even under the starless night sky with only candlelight to illuminate them and the grainy texture of the camera, they still managed to look beautiful. 

Just as you were about to lower your phone, the pair shifted again, grabbing their wine glasses and posing as if they were asked for a picture while drinking. Scoffing, you took one last picture before bringing your phone closer to examine the photos. 

“Send those to me right away, I want to post them,” Handong demanded before taking a sip of her wine. 

“Hey, are we not taking a photo with you in it as well?” Gahyeon asked. 

“Nah, my wine glass is in it, that's enough of me.” You said, grinning at the photos as you waited for them to deliver to Handong’s phone. 

Gahyeon mumbled something before fishing for her phone, making a clear display of taking photos of you—a better display would be that she was very tipsy. 

Pretty soon, the previous dynamic returned, and Gahyeon had begun telling her adventures again. Though this time, she was slightly turned towards you, mostly so you couldn’t catch her by surprise again. Handong had finished her glass of wine and had brought her legs to her chest so she could have her chin on her knees. She was wearing a proud smile, intently listening to Gahyeon while occasionally sharing knowing glances with you. 

It could be months or it could be years before another moment like this occurs. You could never really tell what might happen, so you decided to focus on the present. After taking one last look at Gahyeon and Handong’s very first picture of the night, you pocketed your phone and paid your full attention to them. 

any feedback is much appreciated.

tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

[mizumiii]

Hiraeth - Part III

Donan x Fem!Reader

Previous part - Table of contents - Next part

HIRAETH, n. (Welsh) A spiritual longing for a home which maybe never was. Nostalgia for ancient places to which we cannot return. The echo of the lost places of our soul’s past and our grief for them. In the wind, rocks, and waves, it is nowhere and everywhere.

Hello! Things are getting messier from here on. I hesitated a long time to change the events with Yorin, but I was not feeling confident enough to really change the main event because I was also really interested in how the game dealt with Donan's grief.

Hence a kind of ritual was built between Donan and you. You would meet him at his estate or the keep, and either you would share a meal, or a ride or a night, or more usually the three in any order. Sometimes you could not see him for some days, because of important matters calling you away from the druids' lands, but it only made your reunion even more intense. Just like that, more than a month went by. 

Presently, you were talking with Yorin in Breigstag. Now that Airidah had been taken down, things were slowly going back to normal but the relationship between knights and people was still complicated. The young man had thought that helping them rebuild and restart their crops could ease the tension but that was no easy task. 

“You can't force people into new beliefs in a blink of an eye”, you reminded him while sharing a drink at the town’s tavern. 

You would sometimes meet him here, to check on how he was doing. Truth being said, you had grown quite attached to him. Even if you still could not understand how he had ended up as a knight penitent when he was so curious and tolerant: he could accept other beliefs easily, and even more, he was sincerely interested in them. 

“I already know that, but I thought they would have seen by now how much good the Church of Light can do”, he revealed to you. 

“But they did not ask for it”, you pointed out. 

It seemed to make him think since he did not speak for a while, looking at his cup as if he could find in it the answers he was looking for. 

“You're a great kid, I mean young man”, you sighed before straightening yourself, “but you lack two important things.”

“What are they?” He wondered with curiosity while looking at you.

“The more important thing is experience, you judge the whole world by what you know and not what you have experienced yourself. From there you rush into situations without having enough reasoning to back up your actions.”

“How can I get any experience when my father hardly lets me go anywhere?!”, he rumbled softly. 

“True”, you admitted. “Maybe I could ask him if you can accompany me on my journey”, you wondered out loud. 

“Really? That would be an incredible opportunity! But I need to finish what I started here first.”

“Obviously, take your time, we'll talk about it again later”, you smiled.

It was not the first time someone came with you on your travels but in this occurrence, you were sure it could be a great experience for both of you. Yorin’s crowd control abilities were working well with your close combat skills, and with more experience in his curriculum, Donan would certainly feel more at ease. A perfect win-win. 

Like this, you started to look for the other druid of Astaroth's legend, with Yorin at your sides. The boy was as helpful as you expected and even if Donan initially seemed close to bringing him back home, he finally got accustomed to it (it just took a lot of persuasion from your side). 

However, your idea backfired on you when you had to justify your endless back and forth at the Firebreak Manor. Thankfully, the young man was either really naive or really skilful at acting. Either way despite the awkward reasons you gave him, he never questioned you further. 

Sadly, you ended up finding Donan's last companion: Nafain, shortly after.  The little peace you had put together suddenly crumbled between your fingers. You fell on your knees before him, your pants soaking in red, overflowing blood as you stared at the half-body corpse still gushing litres of the precious liquid. It was worse than everything you had seen until then. You had thought you had been ready for anything now, but you were wrong. Lilith was a monster. She would stop at nothing. And she was mean, vicious, terribly spiteful. 

“I-I need to inform Father”, Yorin muttered, his eyes wide open in horror.

“I-... W-”, you tried to say something, anything but it was as if someone had cut the strings allowing you to move. 

You did not even look at the boy leaving, your mind helplessly trying to know what to do. You were always a step too late. It was horrible torture to only be the witness of her terrible misdeeds, to be the herald of her soulless crimes, to be the one spreading the bad news with no solution. Nonetheless, your body slowly took over your brain, forcing you to move. Firstly you unhooked the druid, despite everything you had learned about him, nobody deserved such a gruesome death. Secondly, you trusted his wolf to take care of his body better than you would do. And finally, your mind came back.

But it was not with sense and reason, it was with an unyielding urge to see Donan and Yorin. After all this death, this pain, you needed to find peace.  You were no longer hesitating, you jumped on your feet and called for your mount. After that, everything became hazy, you rushed to Eldhaim Keep without stopping. You ignored the creatures trying to throw you on the ground, and Brother bravely supported the injuries and the exhaustion. At that moment your mind was unable to think about anything else than the two men you had grown close to. 

However, the fiends had already invaded the place, they were coming from everywhere, there were corpses everywhere and horrific screams filled the air. Your insides were crushed under excruciating fear as you were looking everywhere for the two men.  

“Yorin?! Donan?!” You called out in a frenzy when barging into the cour.

You ignored the faces of people you knew laying in pools of blood and led your horse through what looked like hell. Meanwhile, you kept calling from the top of your lungs, your mind screaming too: please be safe, please, please, please, please…

The door was barricaded, so you had to go from another building, and leave Brother outside -you trusted him to flee from there-. 

“Yorin?! Donan?!”

There were people, Church of Light’s one on your path but you ignored their plea. Quickly your clothes already stained were even more dyed by blood as you just rushed through the fiends without stopping. No injuries could stop you, no enemy strong enough to hold you. Only Fear was driving you. Each second without seeing them was making you see the horrible vision of Vigo's death. Please be safe, please, please, please, please…

You just followed the trail of dead Penitent Knights, killing what you could on your path until you reached a strange place. You did not even notice that you were no longer in the same building because something far worse was taking place in front of you. 

Despair hit you harder than any blow you had to withstand your whole life. In a second, despite your will, your eyes had caught everything wrong in front of you: Donan lying on the ground, his head covered in blood; Lilith towering over a terrified Yorin, a strange yellow stone in her hand, and the three-headed giant dog lurking in the shadows, ready to jump on anyone fool enough to stop his mistress. 

“No!” You yelled so loudly that you felt something slapping in your throat. “Leave him alone!!” You added your voice now croaked.

Something was dripping on your cheeks, ignoring it you quickly drew your two short swords, deadly set on protecting the young man with your life. I’m not too late, I’m not too late, you kept repeating in your mind as the relief was quickly overpowered by the fear of not being strong enough to defeat the demoness. 

“Oh a little pet”, Lilith commented with a mix of surprise and delight, “I can sense my touch in you, you have tasted my blood haven’t you?”

You did not see her lips move nor heard her talk; your eyes were fixed on Yorin’s face where tears had drawn clear lines on his skin. He was held almost up only by Lilith’s strong grip on his neck, her claws were already tearing blood. You could feel that he was afraid, his lips trembling but no sound coming from them, his eyes shaking and crying, but no complaining… 

“Let.Him.Go!” You punctuated as loudly as you could despite your now useless throat. 

“So the little pet has claws”, she seemed amused as her lips slightly raised. “Then try and come get him if you want it so badly…”

That time you heard her clearly, so with a roar really similar to those of the one you had fought just before, you rushed on her to free your precious partner. 

Lilith did not even drop what she had in her hands, she simply used her wings as weapons, paring yours without effort, even chuckling at each of your attempts. However, she quickly grew bored, and after only two failed blows, she impaled you on the horn atop her left wing. 

“Urgh!” You coughed up blood, dropped your weapons on the spot to grab the appendage and try to free yourself.

Except the demoness was not set on letting you go that easily, she slowly raised her limb making your feet barely touch the ground. The pain made you crazy, you thought that you were going to die, but with a furious cry, you started to kick the she-demon in her side.

“So much potential”, she purred while looking at you, “but you’re not ready to reap. For now, I will deal with this one…”

You turned your head at the same time as her, Yorin was even paler than before, he looked so frightened that you found a new strength in you. As Lilith was raising her hand, you roared and impaled yourself further to try to reach her face. 

“I won’t let you!!”

The next second, the yellow stone was crushing Yorin’s head. Strangled by Lilith’s hand he could not even yell as his face was corroded by liquid fire. You cried, begged, forgetting any pride but it was too late. You realised that you had failed when you heard the demonic shout that came from the boy’s mouth. Astaroth had possessed him.

“Do not worry we will meet again, in the meantime try and get stronger”, Lilith encouraged you before tossing you in a corner as if you were just an insect on her wing.

You stared as the three-headed dog put Astaroth on top of him before slowly walking out beside Lilith. Your body was unable to do the slightest movement, and soon you could no longer see, just hearing your blood dripping on the floor. Then, thankfully, you blacked out.

*

“Urgh, kof, argh”, you erected while coming back to you in panic.

There was something liquid in your throat, you felt like drowning.

“It's a healing potion, just breathe out.”

“D-Donan?” you croaked finally witnessing the man’s face close to yours. “You’re alright?”

“Yes… Lilith did not want to kill me, she wanted to play with me”, the pain was easily audible in his voice, “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought the same thing… Wait! Yorin! I-... Oh fuck… I’m sorry Donan…”

The little composure left on the man’s face totally disappeared as you started to tell him what happened with a shaking voice. 

“That’s not finished”, he oddly assured, “I’ve studied the stone for most of my life. We can-I can still save Yorin, my boy. Just follow me, I know where they went!”

You raised your foot without protesting. His confidence was contagious, just looking at him running was enough to strangle your inner voice. Yes, we can save him, it’s not too late. You wanted so desperately to believe it that you ignored your wound, which had not been totally healed by the potion. 

The rest did not leave you time to think. Your mind just stopped functioning, and you watched like a spectator as your body mercilessly killed Astaroth in Yorin’s body. You did not even flinch when the demon’s appearance reverted to the young man’s one. You just stood there, staring at Donan’s back as he was wailing heartbreakingly. 

You realised that you were walking when you met two men that assured you they would take care of everything. The landscape changed around you for Cerrigar’s inner town, you met other people, their voices muttering in your wake. The sky was dark, but the flames were drawing orange and yellow curbs where the stars should have been visible. The ash made it difficult to breathe but you just ignored it as you ignored the rest. 

“Everything is the Church of Light and Donan’s fault, we should never have trusted those fools!”

You did not register the answer however your fist landed heavily on the face of the one who just talked. You heard his scream but did not hesitate in hitting him again. Too soon, some arms were restraining you, you heard people trying to calm you down but the only thing you could hear was that asshole sentence.

“You should have burned, bastard!” You yelled at him trying to hit him despite the people grabbing you. “You don’t deserve to be alive!”

“Just leave him alone, we need to get you treatment”, a town chief encouraged you, “Donan needs you.”The last sentence succeeded in making you realise that you had gone crazy for a moment. Then, grief tackled you hard but you did not let it transform you into a useless crying mop. You had no right, it was you who had failed because you had not been strong enough. It had to change.

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