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arachine · 7 months

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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing.

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks.

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince:

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’”

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up.

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad.

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?”

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there.

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily.

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy.

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.”

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level.

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes.

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him.

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after.

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.”

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping.

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner.

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence.

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question.

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod.

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement.

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her.

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul.

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall.

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat.

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice.

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed.

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life.

“You tried any dating apps?”

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?”

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?”

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces.

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

��To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes.

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars.

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!”

“Right…”

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too.

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match.

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace.

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail.

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’.

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry.

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch.

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response.

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself.

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality.

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.”

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone.

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type.

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more.

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit.

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders.

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it.

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties).

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile.

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds.

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol).

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so?

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice.

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say.

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other.

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it.

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this).

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too.

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago.

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half.

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’.

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way.

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult.

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’”

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call.

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet.

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body.

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!”

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother.

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking.

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.”

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention.

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki.

“Come in, hon!”

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room.

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception.

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment.

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time.

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly.

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana.

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate.

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you.

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone.

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue.

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them.

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here.

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know.

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–”

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him.

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it.

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something.

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder.

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t.

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact.

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase.

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger.

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?”

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now.

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway.

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go.

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs.

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’.

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children.

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep.

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him.

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted.

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight.

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity.

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say.

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date.

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further.

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now.

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot.

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first.

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened.

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out.

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch.

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks.

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?”

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom.

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you.

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.”

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation.

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.”

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting.

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow.

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious.

“Wait, what?”

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d.

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance.

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness.

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?”

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes.

“I don’t know…” you trail.

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow.

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway.

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you.

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.”

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?”

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.”

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter.

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed.

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate.

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating.

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed.

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit.

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence.

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more.

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.”

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver.

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers.

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door.

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?”

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time.

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?”

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?”

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you.

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?”

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal.

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly.

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.”

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat.

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence.

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water.

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?”

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows.

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?”

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?”

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly.

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter.

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?”

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass.

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased.

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment.

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?”

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy.

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed.

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!”

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.”

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.”

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song.

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns.

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them.

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame.

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage.

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems.

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were.

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down.

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling.

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful.

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs.

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.”

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay.

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles).

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it.

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs.

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.”

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago.

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.”

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees.

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound.

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core.

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love.

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.”

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you.

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation.

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins.

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?”

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue.

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit.

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.”

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor.

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them.

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.”

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone.

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand.

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you.

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears.

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers.

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously.

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.”

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm.

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind.

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.”

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You.

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally.

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give.

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.”

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium.

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.”

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days.

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp.

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more.

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration.

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you.

Soon, that silence is broken.

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you.

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages.

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants.

“Shit!”

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you.

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!”

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom.

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt)#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

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mo0nfairy · 8 months

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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ THIS IS A LIFE, PART TWO !

summary :: in every universe, spiderman will inevitably lose the one thing that matters most to him: y/n l/n. miguel o'hara, peter parker, and hobie brown have all suffered through this story. they soon discover another version of you is alive, bound to fall in love with miles morales and to die abruptly. with the prospect of a second chance and a newfound obsession, these four men will do anything to keep you at their side.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 10.2k

content warnings :: yandere!miguel, yandere!miles, murder/death, gore/blood, stalking, age-gap, non-con touching, drugging, invasion of privacy, force-feeding, mentions of rape/assault, mentions of vomit, hanging, insinuations of suicide, physical restraint, child neglect/abuse, child abandonment, & a lot of gross shit.

miguel o'hara's yandere traits are . . .

smothering, territorial, & paranoid

──── Electricity. It is what Miguel O'Hara lost you to on October 17th, 2099. And it is what he felt on May 16th of the same year.

A soccer coach, that is all you were. Simply there to guide a gaggle of tiny rascals toward their dreams of becoming Olympic athletes. That is all you should have been. Spending your days beneath the sweltering sun, collecting quick money and soccer-ball-induced bruises, before leaving Nueva York to settle down elsewhere. That is what you could have been.

Gabriella O'Hara was one of your many students. However, her dad was rarely present during her games. The lack of fatherly presence struck a parental nerve in your body, hence your perceptible favoritism for her. The efforts you made did not go unnoticed by Gabriella, either.

The time she had preferred tying dandelion stems to one another instead of participating with other classmates, you joined the lonely girl and taught her how to craft flower crowns. Since then, she has always arrived to practice with light in her eyes as she gifts you another flower crown of millions. And of course, you thank her graciously for the present. Even after they wilt and wither, they will forever have a home in your residence.

Today was a particularly gloomy Saturday in late March. The carpool Miguel relied on had been cancelled last minute, much to his dismay. The parent he couldn't remember the name of informed him their child was stricken with a case of chickenpox. After reading their incessant apologies, he groans in a fit of annoyance upon realizing he would have to chauffeur his daughter for the day.

Soccer Ball and weed-ridden flower crown in her small hands, Gabriella clambers into the back of the car and fastens herself into the car seat. In the process, she finds yet another way to bring you into the conversation. Somehow in the span of a few weeks, everything Gabriella does revolves around you in some shape or form. If Miguel hears 'Y/N,' 'flower-crowns,' or 'soccer' once more, he is positive he will implode on the spot. Clenching his jaw, he mentally prepares himself for the most excruciating car ride he is sure he will ever endure.

When they arrive at the field, there is no hug, no kiss, not even a wave of goodbye. Miguel merely lets his daughter exit the vehicle herself, ignores her exclamation of "See you later!" and zooms off. Despite how harrowing her father's negligence is, Gabriella knows she will see you and that fact aids all. If she were honest, she would say she likes you far more than she does her own family. It is tacitly evident through the attention you give her. You lighten up like a Christmas tree when she runs and engulfs your legs in a tight hug. Gleefully, you accept her gift of yet another flower crown and praise her for the effort she put into crafting such. And after being so deprived of the necessity of love, Gabriella practically clings to your side like a parasite.

In the meantime, Miguel returns home and hastily sorts through reports sent in by Alchemax. From technological hiccups to your average-day Karen, being in this field never failed to make this man roll his eyes in annoyance. Despite the admiratio he holds for his career, he still grumbles when his responsibilities creep up on him. And much like everything else in his life, he despises it all.

A monitor then pops up beside him, the translucent screen displaying a reminder he had set hours ago. "May 16th, 2099. Saturday. 3:45 PM. Pick Up Child." His head is thrown back in a fit of irritation when he is reminded of her presence. Miguel closes the tab and leaves the expanse of his office, counting down the days until his daughter blows out her 18 candles and he can finally be at peace.

After the car ride spent pondering over why he had chosen this life, he soon arrives at the soccer field. Scrutinizing through the cluster of children playing in the field, he cannot find Gabriella through the chaos. Miguel does not worry about her well-being, as opposed to how other parents would react to their child being missing. He merely huffs before departing from the vehicle. His large hand tracks through his hair as he searches for where the brat had wandered off to, ignoring the lustful gazes from mothers who were explicitly unhappy in their marriages.

Tucked away in the corner is the first-aid center. Within the bell tent, he spots his daughter. She is blissfully happy as she laughs hysterically, which makes her father red with rage. His talons dig into the meat of his palms; his fangs protrude into his lips. He had already driven all this way for her, how dare she force him to travel even further!? Stomping across the field and through the threshold, his towering frame suddenly halts when he takes notice of the additional presence inside the tent.

And just like that, for the first time in his entire life, the anger simply... vanishes. It is almost like magic. Through tireless efforts, Miguel has done everything in his power to deplete this suffocating rage. All efforts made by him were brought to no fruition. In this moment, however, the mere presence of this stranger brings such a candy-sweet shock to all his senses, that he forgets where his anger was in the first place.

They cast a look over their shoulder to acknowledge his sudden entrance. And their features sit like stars on the expanse of their face, their eyes like the sun and moon basking him in its holy light. A kind smile that could rival the luminescence of heaven grows on their face. Miguel is shocked the sight hadn't caused his knees to lock beneath him. They introduce themselves and if he could write their name on his tongue and only ever speak of them, he wouldn't waste another heartbeat.

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.

The word sounds like flowers in the wind; like an answered prayer for brighter days. Extending their arm out to shake his hand, Miguel fervently takes their hand into his and shivers from the close, yet minimal, contact.

"So, this is the notorious Y/N I've heard so much about." His voice drops to a low husk, attempting to woo you.

Miguel presses your knuckles to his lips and kisses them with fervid haste. The skin, flesh, and warmth pervading the expanse of his lips make him feel weightless. He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body, but with you now in his life, he'd tear every raw bone from his body and place them at your feet if you so much as asked. Just keep making him feel the way you do.

He then introduces himself and punctuates the syllables with the inflection of his accent, knowing of how it drove others wild. In this case, he was not given the heart-lurching sight of you averting your gaze or listening to your flustered giggles. Instead, you yank your hand away from his affections and revert your attention to Gabriella. Miguel had forgotten she was there altogether, and once again, the permeating rage returned once more.

Without your blessed attention, his lost soul returns to the home it built out of anger and misery. He had so greedily absorbed every sliver of good you possessed, he never fathomed how he would feel when it would be inevitably revoked.

Upon closer inspection, Miguel notices how his daughter's cheeks are puffy with stained tears. On her knees are a clutter of superhero-themed band-aids, a few displaying her father in his work attire. You inform him of the tumble she had taken earlier that day and of how there was nothing to concern himself with, gesturing to the bandages adorning her frail legs. He was never worried in the first place, only captivated by your sheer existence.

You then bend down to where Gabriella is seated on an ottoman and take her tiny hands into yours.

"I was going to wait until later on, but I got a gift that I just have to give you!" Gabriella lightens up as if you had told her you were taking her to Disneyland, anxiously anticipating her present.

Quirking your head, you turn to her father. "If that is alright with you, of course." Yes, anything you want. I will give you everything you could ever want.

A nod of his head and you stand to your feet. That mellifluous voice of yours that Miguel could listen to forever apprises Gabriella to close her eyes, which she obliges to and brings her palms to her face. Grasping hold of the gift hidden in the corner of the tent, you begin to tread toward the young girl. Before you had granted her to, she not-so-sneakily peeks through the expanse of her fingers. She can't abstain from squealing in excitement when she catches sight of what is in your palms. She closes the distance between you both and rushes to you, before practically yanking the gift out of your grasp. A harsh scolding bridges upon Miguel's lips for the action. However, when he takes notice of the admiration in your expression, he is rendered speechless with sudden envy.

A flower crown is what you had given her. The detail is exquisite, evident in the sheer awe plastered upon Gabriella's face as she studies it. Strawflower, lavender, eucalyptus, and daisies adorn the garment, as well as strands of amaranth that would cascade down her back. In addition to this, a myriad of other ornamentations clung to the crown. Vibrant gemstones, pastel buttons, and a pink, silken ribbon that ties the crown together in a flawless bow — it is a tiara befitting the most beautiful of princesses. And you told Gabriella she fit that standard effortlessly.

Meanwhile, Miguel stands in the background and seethes. How despairingly he wishes the gift were for him instead. In any other light, he'd say the garment was tacky. Ugly, even. He would have no resourceful use for it, either, and it would inevitably be chucked into the garbage. When it is you who put all care and detail into the gift, however, the story changes. Mere seconds have gone by since he has learned your name and still, he'd flaunt that crown for the rest of his life if you had gifted it to him. No matter the judging heaps of laughter he'd receive from others.

Gabriella thanks you profusely and engulfs your legs in another hug. Her gratitude is met with a reciprocated squeeze, as well. The act of affection is given to one another entirely oblivious to the third party overwhelmed with jealousy. His thick brows are plastered in a permanent furrow and his lips have morphed into an envious sneer. You are so effortlessly good with children and Miguel can't refrain his brain from catapulting to conclusions.

What does your life look like outside of being his daughter's favorite person? Do you have children of your own?

Is there someone else?

You and Gabriella then perform your secret handshake. It had been choreographed during one of the numerous soccer meets after her father neglected to collect his daughter on time. Soon, the two are leaving the tent. And every step away from you feels like walking on hot stones. The further Miguel treads, the scorching temperatures increase. He cannot look back. One glance and he'd be barreling for the poor tent like some rabid animal, desperate for another taste of your bottled happiness.

May 16th had only been the beginning of the Miguel-ridden chaos that would soon embark into your life.

Considering his negligence, you were stunned to see how he had signed his daughter up for several classes a week. But, you become entirely aghast with shock when you find him attending every meeting and game, remaining in the same spot for the entire course. Most parents twiddle on their phones while others mingle with the other adults. Miguel O'Hara was different. His sole, undivided attention was reserved for the actions taken on the field. And his sweet child could not have been more elated.

You presumed this alter in behavior to be a spark of realization that manifested into becoming a better parent. However, as the weeks go by and he continues to attend, you are quick to realize how his attention isn't appointed to his daughter, but it is set on you instead.

It is impossible for you to disinter what about yourself he finds so entertaining. With his eyes glued to you, it fills you with a sense of insecurity when you assume he may be mocking or judging you. The seemingly permanent dead emotion cast on his face makes you squirm with discomfort.

Upon closer inspection, or during the constant chatter he provokes when you're not occupied with the children, you swear the pupils of his eye almost appear... heart-shaped? You also cannot remember a time when he looked you directly in the eye, either. You're sure if you asked him what your eye color is, he'd be dumbfounded (he knows the exact shade by HTML color code, but that fact remains unknown to you). They are locked onto your lips, instead. Do you have something on your face? Maybe something in your teeth? The lack of emotion he communicates through facial expressions has you ridden with worry.

The most evident response you've been able to perceive in his expression was on a random day after practice. In the midst of a conversation with Miguel, another father interrupts him. His face morphs into something murderous when the unwelcome guest has the audacity to ask for your number. He claims it is to inquire you about his son's performance while he is not physically present in the game. With the way his eyes leer to your body, Miguel knows exactly what kind of revolting, perverted visions are plaguing his mind.

Clenched jaw, tense frown, eyes blown wide — Miguel’s chest rises and falls with rapid breaths while he glares bullets into the man. It takes everything within him to not release his talons, flash his fangs, and rip this pervert into nothing but a bloodied mess of gore on this very soccer field.

He is dead by dawn.

Exposed to several counts of rape and assault, Spider-Man hanged that man with his red web-matter beneath a bridge. His written confession was pinned to his chest with a hunting knife.

The disturbing events led his wife to officially resign her son from your practice. On live television, the widow swears on her life that her husband would not do such a thing. The sudden exposure of random crimes without any victims or proof does seem a tad suspicious, you think to yourself. Due to the circumstances, however, you cancel soccer meetups for the following several weeks so parents and children can process these disturbing events.

While you are typing another empathetic message to the apparent-criminal’s wife, another message pings on your device.

The culprit is no other than Miguel O'Hara. As if the news that had spread amongst the city like wildfire had chosen to leave him intact.

As if nothing happened.

Miguel invites you to an ice cream parlor with him and Gabriella, a weird undertone that implies it's a date while his daughter is the annoying third wheel. To get your mind off the poor boy whose father was brutally murdered, you agree to the rendezvous. His response is far too ecstatic to be deemed platonic, but much like all of his other flirtatious insinuations, you ignore it. You are juggling much more important, colossal matters in your life, after all.

Early afternoon rolls around and you arrive a mere five minutes early to the parlor, only to find the two were already seated beneath a pastel-striped umbrella. Gabriella is adorned in the flower crown you gifted her weeks ago, babbling about frivolous matters while her father sits beside her. Chin rested against his palm, you have never seen a more bored expression on a human's face.

Double-checking the clock to ensure Miguel's apathy wasn't a result of your poor planning, you're relieved to see your suspicions were false. You briefly scroll through the new messages on your phone from parents and neighbors regarding their children. As much as you adore your job, juggling the well-being of so many lives can be exhausting.

The click of your car door opening cuts your actions short. Looking at the sudden intrusion, you find Miguel O'Hara towering over you with Gabriella at his side. Her eyes beam beneath the flower crown you crafted, while her father perceptibly softens at the sight of you. Almost as if a tidal wave of relief washed over him after years spent breathing in trepidation. Not wasting another second, Gabriella crawls into the car and engulfs you in a hug. You are able to reciprocate the affection before her father pulls her away from what's his you. He is rather rough with her, but the smile that paints her face aids the dread inside of you.

Miguel lends a hand, which you take with reluctance. He guides you from your beat-up, engine-sputtering vehicle as if you were royalty. Your other hand was now held hostage by Gabriella, who attempts to conquer her father's strength and guide you to where they were once seated. Her efforts are futile when you are yanked into Miguel's sudden embrace. He was never shy with his affections, but this is the first time he was so close to you. And God, is it overwhelming. His imposing frame envelops every inch of you, to where all your senses are deluged in all of him. His cologne, his muscles, his warmth — he is everywhere and it is wholly suffocating.

"I missed you so much..." A beat passes before you realize he is referring to the mere week you have spent without seeing the O'Hara family.

Slowly and painstakingly, he releases you from his tenacious hold. Gabriella is then swift to fill the silence. She grasps your attention easily, something her father has struggled immensely with.

She pantomimes about the fashion show she hosted for her dolls back home and the success she earned during her P.E. class a few days prior. So indulged in the stories of this poor, attention-deprived child, you failed to notice how your hand was still held in Miguel's grasp. His lips find your knuckles, as they always do. The sensation of his kiss against you was nothing out of the blue. The act of affection had become a strange routine for every encounter you both shared. Without your resistance, Miguel fully indulges himself in how much he has missed you and plants more long, abiding kisses to your hand.

When you finally perceive his actions, you swiftly yank your hand away from his relentless affections. An awkward, forced smile sits on your face as you look at him with furrowed brows, seemingly scrutinizing him for some sort of explanation of his actions. Gabriella then pulls you away and drags you like a dog to their reserved table. Not without a sharp demand from her father to be careful with you.

On the surface, you find a colossal bowl of your favorite ice cream. The question lurks of how they had known this fact, but you merely brush it off as dropping the information to Gabriella a while ago. Besides the treat, a bouquet of paper flowers scribbled with bright-hued markers sits. She expresses how she crafted it for you during her time in school. Students were given art equipment and assigned to create a heartfelt gift for their parents. In the brain of Gabriella, she neglected her actual parent and put all her love into creating something perfect for you. And to you, it was all of that and more.

The three of you sit. You thank the young girl for the beautiful gift. Then, you pretend to inhale the scent of fresh flowers and jokingly compliment her on how she picked the finest posy from her garden. Before you can continue to pantomime about the process she went through to craft the bouquet, her father interrupts her. He proposes a gift he has gotten for you, as well.

A box is then placed before you. It is enveloped in vermillion velvet and silver tracings of 'Cartier' are threaded among the sides. You restrain from expressing your shock at the expensive appearance. Flicking the small latch that probably costs more than your bedroom alone, you gently clutch the two adjacent covers and open the box.

Sat inside is a diamond ring. The way the July sun reflects against the gift and into your eyes is harsh. You're shocked you hadn't gone blind from the unwelcome pervasion. The intricacies of the garment are delicate and precious, to where you are afraid of even putting your hands on such finery. You become entirely ridden with shock and terror when you grasp the thin thread attached to the box and read the price tag.

$2,000,000 is written in bold letters, almost as if the striking font was ridiculing you.

As heard through the fits of gossip from bored parents during practice, you were aware Miguel was a billionaire working at Alchemax. In these past few weeks spent handling nagging parents worried for their children's safety, the fact seems to have escaped your brain. And even with receipts that look like phone numbers, you still cannot fathom how pure diamonds are mere pocket change to him.

Jaw on the ground, you don't realize just how much time you spent gawking at the ring. A hum of amused, affectionate laughter clutches you away from your state of captivation. You shift your gaze away to see Miguel and those all-too-familiar heart-shaped pupils. Staring into your soul. It is the most emotion you have seen on his face since you met him. You wonder how many times he has looked at you like that when you were occupied with other matters.

He moves closer to you. You stalk his movements with curiosity, watching as he grasps your hand for the zillionth time since you met him. Uncomfortably pressing himself against you, Miguel reaches over your shoulder and grasps the ring. He evidently indulges in every second spent in close proximity with you. The hot, heavy breath fanning against your ear informs you of what captivated chaos is taking place inside his brain. Goosebumps bloom on your skin when the frigid diamonds meet the flesh of your ring finger. He assumes the sudden shiver engrossing your body is due to his closeness and he does little to hide his perceptible excitement.

You loving him nearly as much as he loves you — that is all he could ever want.

You lightly tread your digits among the ring, almost afraid to dirty the expensive jewelry with your mere touch. You stutter through an attempt at thanking Miguel for the gift. And your awe mending with your gratitude has his heart lurching in his chest. God, you are just so sweet. He is surprised his teeth haven't all rotted just from standing here in your presence.

Gabriella is in a similar state to you, as well. Any child in the presence of jewelry meant to be worn by a deity would react in a similar manner. Though, her childlike wonder fogs all the polite manners she prided herself in having. Her small fingers reach to touch the diamonds, but her efforts are halted a mere picosecond after they had begun.

Miguel snaps his fingers. That is all he does. Gabriella freezes at the sound, turning her attention to her father, and then cowering like a scolded puppy. She scoots away from you, abandoning her endeavors the second his fingers meet his palm. You fear what occurs beneath the roof of their home when there are no prying eyes there to witness anything.

A sultry whisper of "you look perfect" in your ear and the state of discomfort you were in only intensifies. Miguel's finger drags from your left shoulder blade to the other as he begrudgingly moves away from you, returning to his original seat.

Nearly incoherent blabbers of the ring being too much money tumble from your lips as you try and rid yourself of the diamonds. However, no matter how tireless your efforts are, the ring almost seems locked around your finger. A gentle tap to your elbow from Miguel beside you and you halt your efforts. You've heard he is quite scary when angry, after all.

With melted ice cream left on the table and diamonds superglued to your finger, you come to the conclusion that leaving your house today was probably a mistake.

When you do return home, however, you now realize you should have seen the blatant red flags long ago and left Miguel in your shadow. Your incessant assurances of how he just has an odd way of expressing kindness halted you from accepting the truth.

Standing before your bathroom mirror, a myriad of cleaning products from beneath the sink sit before you. Your laptop sits there, too, and displays countless YouTube videos adhering to removing a tight ring. Attempting to unravel the glimmering, red knot tying the ring to your hand, the revelation of Miguel's intentions finally begins to settle. These matters are so important, that you don't even acknowledge how the vermillion string looks oddly familiar to what you see the city's superhero using to travel.

Deep within your thoughts, the sharp vibration of a text message startles you out of your inner turmoil. A hologram expands from your phone left against the bathroom countertop. Lo and behold, no other than Miguel O'Hara has messaged you. He thanks you for joining him earlier (avoiding mentioning how his daughter was there, too). He slides an additional compliment of how diamonds look stunning on you. You're glad the toilet is so close to you, as you may need to vomit from the rotten sweetness of his words.

Instead of replying, as you would normally thank him for his kindness, you ignore his message. You are far more interested in trying to rid your hand of this ring without harming the accessory and washing his $2,000,000 down the drain.

With fruitless efforts and exhausted arms, you slouch against the bathroom wall and wave a white flag. You decide to succumb to the stubborn ring's desires and move on with your nightly routine. Instead of having your usual shower, however, you run a bath instead to avoid harming these damned diamonds. It is almost comical to lay in these bubbles completely nude while still wearing this single piece of jewelry. You wonder how Miguel would react to seeing you like this, physically scowling at the lust-ridden response you know he would have.

Speak of the devil, another message from him chimes on your phone. The hologram expands from its spot on the counter, once more. He inquires why you haven't responded to him, as if you would drop everything just to converse with him. He would do the same for you in a heartbeat, but that fact remains unknown to you.

A mere minute passes before an onslaught of messages begins to pour into the room. The rapid ding! of your phone causes you to clench your teeth with fervent irritation. You groan before abruptly escaping the warm embrace of bathwater to grasp your phone. Ignoring all incessant begs for your attention, you put your phone on mute and savor the tranquility that follows. You also overlook the mentions of "not being able to see you" and "his cameras disconnecting" in favor of returning to your peaceful bath.

Your state of relaxation is short-lived, much to your dismay. Not even several minutes later the tumultuous sound of fists banging on your front door permeates. The sudden intrusion of noise sends a shock of terror into your heart. Due to recent events, you fear the crime that has spread throughout Nueva York is now standing outside your home. Could it be someone begging for help? Or could it be someone eager to take your life? Swiftly ensnaring a robe around your body, you hastily tie the knot as you rush to identify the one responsible for the clamor.

Another groan of vexation escapes your throat when you see Miguel at your doorstep through the peephole. The fear simmers but returns when you can't piece together how on Earth he knew where you lived. You hesitate to open the door, but it isn't like you have much of a choice in that matter.

The door creaks open. And the reaction Miguel has seeing you in a robe and his diamonds is more than perceptible. Almost as if whatever excuse he conjured up for being at your home at this hour had been snagged from his brain. His eyes travel from your head to your toes, then back upwards, before reality slaps him across the face and forces him out of wonderland. The fear pumping through his body depleted the second Miguel saw you, to where nothing but a hot canopy of tranquility embraced him. The confused, puppy-like expression on your face, the thin robe protecting you from exposure, and his precious diamonds on your hand — nothing about this sight could save him from the tsunami of devotion that has swallowed him whole.

His arms are around you faster than you could think. And he just melts.

You meekly attempt to escape his tenacious hold, but your efforts are never brought to fruition. With his large hands clasped onto your body and his face nuzzled into your neck, escaping this man and his smothering love was a mere pipe dream.

If the emotions coursing through Miguel in this moment had somehow become a physical matter, he would care for it like he would a newborn baby. Tend to its every need, soothe it when it fusses, give away every ounce of love his heart can possibly accommodate. It contradicts his current performance as an actual parent, but all of his soul was reserved for you, after all.

"I can't live without you." It has only been several hours since you last saw him. Why is he acting like this?

Your efforts to escape accelerate when the razor-like point of his teeth poke against your neck. A harsh shriek then emerges from you when fangs protrude into your flesh. Something unfamiliar pumps through your system with rapid speed. It courses through your body and envelops every inch with profuse lethargy. The exhaustion satiates everything. It is all you can perceive. You slump against Miguel's toned physique like a wet noodle, to where he fully supports your weight with adoring fervor. Whispers of praise and gentle proclamations of love are the last thing you perceive before you drift off.

The dizzy sight of blurred city lights and bedsheets is what you see next. No Miguel, no bathrobes, no ensnaring embraces. Just you and your warped, distorted vision. You attempt to pull your head forward, only for gravity to fail you when you loll back onto the puffy pillows. When your hazy vision fades into something more distinct, you are finally able to discern some of your physical surroundings.

A bedroom that certainly does not belong to you is what you are met with. It is luxurious. Expensive. Lush. An incredible contrast to the small, decrepit bungalow you called home. The tall windows display the remarkable city from its highest point. The gentle, red-hued lamplight frames the late-night clouds drifting about and the planes soaring through the sky. You are laid against a circle-framed bed where several exorbitant comforters are draped around you. The robe you were adorned in hours ago was gone, too. Now, you are dressed in a high-quality, silken pajama set you do not recognize.

Your head relentlessly aches as you attempt to study the entire scene before you. The sensation is alike someone slamming a hammer into your brain. You bring your hand to your temple in a feeble attempt at easing the ache, but the freezing touch of the diamonds on your finger make you hiss from the stimulation. It channels a groan from your throat. The sound you make is simultaneously met with the distorted echo of a stranger's cooing. They purr out whispers of comfort and love, failing miserably in mending the fear stirring within you.

"Oh, button… You have no idea how long I have wanted this." Miguel fucking O'Hara. That revolting, candy-sweet voice belongs to no other than Miguel O'Hara.

He towers over you, as he always does. Dread tickles your bones and dances among the goosebumps trailing your flesh. Questions swarm within your brain as you attempt to scrutinize what you could have done to anger this man. You've heard through the grapevine how catastrophic his fury is, after all.

Contrary to popular belief, however, Miguel is not the flaming ball of rage he appears to be. Well, he at least isn't like that with you. Everyone else has clear evidence of the absolute rabid dog this man can be. It is evident in his greedy, adoring hands that have been stained red more times than he can count. It is evident in the warm pool of his brown irises that only appear blood-hued when you are not around. It is evident in absolutely everything he does.

This fact doesn't change at this moment, either. With the speed of a predator stalking prey, Miguel steadily climbs onto the bed and straddles you. You can only lay paralyzed and stare at the man above you in trepidation. With frail efforts, you are able to garner a sliver of mobility when you attempt to push him off. He resorts to grasping hold of your wrists and pinning them beside your head. So much for that plan. His abnormally sharp nails dig into your flesh; his nose pokes the bridge of yours when he bends down. His breath fans against your face and the familiar sight of his heart-shaped pupils is now overwhelming. Once again, his eyes are glued onto the one place they always seem to be: your lips. You can practically taste the need exuding from him.

A hologram then appears in front of his face. A monotone, robotic voice emanates into the silent room. "Your heart rate is 110 BPM. This has alarmingly exceeded your average BPM. If you are in danger, please press-"

The anger you heard rumors of fills him to the brim. Something daring to refrain him from drowning you in his love is equivalent to ordering a one-way ticket into the depths of Hell. A grunt and curse emerge from him. With a rushed flick of his finger, the hologram disappears as quickly as it came.

And without another second to perceive his actions, his lips are on yours. It is an almost god-like fervor he possesses. Your relentless struggling flies over the head of the absolute beast on top of you. It is instead met with the sharp prick you felt the night before on your lips. The same sensations flood through your veins, once again. This time, however, you are still able to regain consciousness and the small dosage succeeds in immobilizing your body. Now, you are entirely susceptible to whatever your kidnapper intends to have you endure.

Meanwhile, Miguel is utterly convinced he has left Earth and is now resting on Cloud-Nine. The unadulterated affection and sheer giddiness derived from your kiss bubble in his chest like a fizzy, sugar-ridden soda. He even considers he had somehow gotten drunk on the beverage, even though there is no physical indication of the beverage even existing. The way his heart batters like a savage animal locked in a cage is enough evidence to convince him otherwise, though. This kiss was only done to debilitate you, yes, but he would be a fool if he believed he could hold himself back from indulging in this moment.

Forehead pressed against yours, he speaks with breathless tremor. "I..." He gulps, "I got you another gift, button."

Once Miguel deems himself satisfied, he laps up the drops of blood that cascade from your lips with bone-chilling glee. Reluctantly, he withdraws from the close contact. His attention then begrudgingly drifts from you and to something on the bedside table. You are unable to turn your head and identify his actions, you can only lay on this bed in complete, paralyzed submission.

In his hands is a bowl of your favorite ice cream. "You never finished your bowl at the parlor. Remember?" You are still unsure of where he learned this was your preferred flavor.

When you expect him to bring the plastic, pastel-pink spoon to your lips, he does the opposite. Instead, he feeds himself a spoonful of the ice cream. Then, much to your horror, he presses his thumb to your chin and indulges in another kiss. His tongue slithers into your mouth, to where he coerces you to consume the sugary substance directly from him. Like a fucking mother bird. Your moans of discomfort are mistaken for sounds of pleasure. The noise elicits a muffled grunt from Miguel that vibrates against your lips. After all, the guttural groans protruding from him are enough to inform you he is enjoying this far more than you are.

"You can't just walk into my life, take my heart, then try and leave." Another quick, yet deep, kiss is forced upon you before he continues. "I won't let you. I can’t let you…”

A mess of ice cream, saliva, and stained blood paint your abused lips. Miguel backs away from your mouth and the separation provides you ephemeral comfort. For the umpteenth time, he hastily scoops another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and fervently forces it into yours. It is absolute torture.

Any attempt at pushing this monster away from you and puking out any trace of him left in you was entirely fruitless. The spongy muscle of his tongue continues to explore your mouth with more heaps of ice cream. Miguel kisses, slurps, and guzzles all remnants of you he can garner. You wonder if he had bought the entire parlor with how much ice cream he appeared to have.

"I love you too fucking much..." All you can do is let him relish in the euphoria he feels upon his actions and pray to God that it will end soon.

This is what life looked like for the following months. Miguel forcing his love onto you the way he forced ice cream down your throat.

And it is what life looked like when he lost you. Miguel forcing the universe to adhere to his needs the way he forced you into being his lover.

October 17th. It was all his fault.

He remembers the day the same way he will never forget you. It was a frigid Saturday morning. Miguel dropped Gabriella off at school for soccer practice, not bothering to wave or kiss his daughter goodbye, once again. Instead, he leaves quickly to purchase an expensive necklace and another order of your favorite ice cream to surprise you. Diamonds and sugar are the best way to someone's heart, right?

The ice cream falls from his hands and splats against the ground when he finds you. The diamonds are now chipped and dented from falling onto the hardwood floors. His breath is lodged in his chest as if his lungs had been crushed beneath the weight of the sight that stood before him. His eyes are blown wide in confused horror as if the mere action of blinking would kill him in his stance.

You lay on the floor of his office.

Lifeless. Cold. Dead.

The vibrant spider webs he used to tie the ring to your hand had conducted an electric flow from the watch he had been working on and into your body.

The electricity you made him feel was now the reason you were dead.

However, Miguel refuses to see this. He brings your body into his embrace, choosing to ignore the lack of reciprocation and silent pulse. You are just asleep, you are just asleep, you are just asleep. Tears overwhelm his vision, hiccups penetrate his chest, and unruly sobs fill the air. Still, he clings to you and persists in what he is desperate to believe as the truth. You are just asleep. You're always so sleepy, it is just too adorable! Maybe some ice cream will wake you up. Right? Right...?

Incessant demands to open your eyes fill the air, which soon turns into a series of relentless, incoherent pleads. Miguel webs the battered necklace and spilled ice cream into his hands. He ensnares the jewelry around your neck, a choked compliment of how beautiful you look barely able to escape through unruly sobs. His trembling hands then bring a spoonful of your favorite ice cream to your lips, ushering you to open your mouth and let him feed you. The tears staining his vision make it hard to see what he is doing. He loses the mobility of the spoon, to where it then clatters against the ground.

Large hands then cling to your face as he forcefully shakes you and calls out your name.

"WAKE UP! Y/N, WAKE UP!" The desperate, thunderous roar could have torn the world asunder with its violent force. It surely would have woken you up, had you been alive. Miguel knows this and it destroys him.

Miguel grasps the watch on top of the desk, you still in his arms. The desire to absolutely destroy the very thing that took you from him was almost feral. When he thought of the intentions he originally had upon creating the machine, however, he sought against it. Clicking the metal walls back into place, he taps a few buttons in the correct order. The room is then adorned in neon colors that frame a pitch-black portal. From here, Miguel stands to his feet with you in his arms and ventures through.

He abandons his daughter, abandons his life, abandons everything.

When he first learned of the existence of the Multiverse through his job at Alchemax, he fantasized about creating the perfect world where you and him can be together. He crafted it from scratch, but it still needed a few more knots tightened and screws fastened before he could have given it to you. Blinding sunshine and vibrant blue skies; healthy green grass and a single house on a hill. The clouds drifting in the sky resemble a myriad of different shapes, where Miguel had hoped you and him could do cloud-gazing with one another. The flowers planted in the soil all contrast in variety and color, where Miguel had hoped you could make him a personal flower crown like you did for his daughter. And of course, an invisible force surrounds the small plot of land to ensure you won't go wandering.

Where it can be just you and him. Where you can never escape his love. Where you can be happy together.

Things are much different now. He was too late. Miguel can only stand here with your lifeless body in his arms, surrounded by the clean home he intended on spending forever in. The satiating grief had turned into desolate numbness. He doesn’t waste another second before taking action. Laying your body into the bed you two were intended to share, he assures himself you are just taking an afternoon nap. Then, he begins to forage the home for something, anything, that will wake you from your slumber. Like sleeping beauty, he desperately muses to himself.

Within several weeks, your poor body had been strapped to the bed with numerous tubes and IVs protruding into your body. Miguel stands by a desk, a myriad of holograms displaying information that would be incomprehensible to even the smartest of people. Eye bags sit heavy on his face from restless nights; his eyes are swollen and red from the lack of sleep.

He doesn't care if he has to kill every person in the Multiverse, endure the most gut-wrenching pain known to man, or even sell his soul to the devil himself. He will do anything to see you open your eyes again. Even if it is just to slap him across the face or to scream at him for taking you from your old life, he still needs it. You'd be home. And that is all Miguel could ever want.

However, he was so occupied in doing everything within his power to bring you back to him, that he hadn't realized just how uneducated he was about the Multiverse. When he wakes up after falling asleep at his desk to the strange sound of something sizzling, he looks and finds the furniture around the room begin to glitch. Almost as if he was living in a simulation. The closer the malfunctions accelerate to you, the quicker he is to take every device plunged into your body and bring you into his arms.

The foundations of the home vibrate beneath his feet, and he then sprints from the bedroom and down the stairs. A violent crash echoes from behind him when he finally escapes through the front door. He doesn't dare to look behind him, he only holds your body closer to him and sprints forward.

A few taps to his watch and a portal unfolds just several yards from him. When he was a mere footstep from escaping with you, the force of the destruction snatched you from his embrace. He tries to fight against the energy pulling him into the gateway he summoned and practically flails his body around like a dying insect. His desperate efforts to retrieve you are of no use when his strength is overpowered by his own machine. Inevitably, he falls into the portal.

A harsh cry of "NO!" flees from his mouth before he finds himself back in Nueva York. Alone.

The world Miguel had put his blood, sweat, and tears into creating had crumbled right before his eyes. And right in the middle of the mess is where the only thing he has ever loved is.

As the story of all Spider-People goes, Miguel uses every bit of energy derived from his grief. He, however, does not use it for the sake of others or to ensure no one ever feels the pain of losing a loved one. Instead, he vows to study more of the Multiverse and create technology that can bring your body back to him. He was so close to waking you up! He just needed a little more time!

During his endeavors, he soon meets Jessica Drew, and all delusions he claimed to be the truth shattered like glass onto concrete. Here, Miguel learns of the "Y/N-Curse," as she so called it. How every Spider-Person is destined to fall hopelessly in love with a version of Y/N, only to lose them in the end. She tells him of how she was in love with her own version of them, too, during her teenage years, which made Miguel spark with territorial rage. After beating around the push for too long, what she tells him causes his entire body to go rigid with shock.

Everyone was so used to the stoic, cold, terrifying Miguel O'Hara. Only Jessica Drew had seen that exterior disintegrate when he learned your body had been destroyed and it was impossible to retrieve you. His absolute worst nightmare had manifested into reality and nothing could ever conquer the amount of pain he feels now.

You are gone.

Forever.

If it wasn't for Jessica's high-speed, spider-induced senses, Miguel would have succeeded in killing her and then himself right in that moment.

From here, he agreed to Jessica's inquiries about starting a society of Spider-People all across the Multiverse. If not for others, then for you. Even if it is not the same Y/N from his reality, any version of you does not deserve to suffer. Still, to live every day watching millions of versions of you die through the numerous holograms sat on his desk tortures him in ways he cannot fathom. It is killing him, but when it is for you, he will do absolutely anything.

He will find a way to stop this curse. Even if it is the last thing he ever does.

With that, your life was over. May 16th, 2099 — the day Miguel O'Hara met the only thing that ever mattered to him. And October 17th, 2099 — the day Miguel O'Hara inevitably lost them.

A year has now passed since Miguel lost you and your story on Earth-1610 has kicked into full gear.

March 30th, 2023. Roughly a month has passed since you began these tutoring sessions. One hour every Tuesday and Thursday. That is all it was; that was all it was supposed to be.

Within the short expanse of 18 years, Miles Morales has never felt such exhilaration then when he is with you. Life has exploded in various hues of rapture, enchantment, and those all-too-familiar sensations of goosebumps blooming across his skin. When he miscalculates an equation on purpose to hear your euphonious voice correct him; when he feigns frustration to feel the warmth of your comfort and reassurance — oh, there is nothing that could ever equate to these newfound emotions. These two hours a week have become the highlight of his life and will forever remain so, he is sure of it.

3:27 PM flickers in neon green on Miles' wristwatch. 33 minutes until he gets to reunite with you. The love of his life, his soon-to-be spouse, the future parent of his beautiful children. It is impossible to contain the effervescent excitement as he sits here atop the numerous pillars adorning the Brooklyn Bridge.

A sketchbook sits in his hand, a technical pen in the other. Only several more empty pages are available, as the other ones have all been painted with your face. More sketchbooks contained with similar drawings are hidden in his bedroom back home. The amount of money his mother has spent on sketchbooks this month has become alarming. Rio is starting to edge over suspicion when his excuses of "I lost it" and "I spilled water on it" have been wrung dry.

And the drawings on these pages are a picture-perfect definition of lovesick. Sketches of what you would wear on your wedding day, illustrations of you and him on adorable dates, and of course, the alarmingly accurate depictions of you. Every detail of your form has become muscle memory now; every feature and "blemish" of yours is imprinted in Miles' brain. His foot taps with anticipation against the stone surface. Oh, he cannot wait to see you again.

Hastily, he shoves the art equipment into his cluttered backpack. A silver web sprouts from his wrist when he jumps from the skyscraper-high pillar. He soars through the city and hums to one of the numerous love songs on his playlist dedicated to you. Swinging past several graffiti pieces he's made of your face and ignoring a poor woman whose purse was being stolen, Miles soon makes it through his bedroom window.

At record speed, he rids himself of his sweaty suit and dresses himself in the best articles of clothing from his closet. A pair of jeans he hadn't doodled on, a Brooklyn Nets jersey over a white tee, and a pair of freshly-bought Air Jordans. For a final touch, a spritz of cologne he stole borrowed from a Tom Ford store. He would wear a tailored suit, but his request to have such was rejected by his parents. You needed to see how serious he was about you. After all, who knows how many others are in line to snag your heart? Miles' body erupts with chills at the mere thought.

Patching up the final efforts of his outfit in the mirror, he hears the front door creak open and the elated tone of his mother escapes through the thin walls. Then, there is your voice. And in our entire universe, there is absolutely nothing that can compare to the sheer music of your voice. He takes a deep breath to eradicate the black dots dancing in his vision, before finally leaving his bedroom. When he turns the corner and makes eye contact with you, the sweet shock it brings to his senses is almost enough to make him collapse onto the kitchen tile.

"Hey, Miles." He certainly would not mind waking up to that every day.

"Y-Y/N! It's good to see you! No, great, actually. It-It's great to see you! I'm happy you're here... Very happy, heh..." The fact he is able to muster a single syllable in your presence is nothing short of a miracle.

A mere 20 minutes has now passed since you have entered the Morales residence. You and Miles are sat at the dining room table, surrounded by a mess of highlighters, study guides, and practice quizzes. And this boy could win an Oscar with how well he plays dumb. Miscalculating equations, picking wrong answers, and misspelling simple words. With the few questions he purposely answers correctly, every "Nice job!" and "You got it!" has him staring at you as if he had looked into the night sky for the very first time. Oh, the sight of your sunlit smile and the sound of your mellifluous voice are seconds away from making him melt into a puddle.

Rio then enters the room with her phone in hand, much to Miles' dismay. As he is about to groan at her presence and demand through clenched teeth for her to leave, she then speaks.

"Y/N/N! Your boyfriend's on the phone! He said he had some trouble getting a hold of you." A knowing smirk is sat on her lips. However, there is also a gleam of disappointment over the fact she couldn't have someone as amazing as you join the Morales family.

With zero romance in your work-induced life, you are puzzled upon receiving this information. However, you then playfully roll your eyes, assuming it was a friend of yours playing a stupid prank. This action, however, told Miles all that he needed to know. The person on the other line has been granted the absolute privilege of calling you theirs.

And his world shatters.

With a "Thank you, Mrs. Morales," you take the phone and leave to the other room. Unbeknownst to you, you leave behind a downhearted mother and a devastated boy trying desperately to gather the pieces of his broken heart. His agony is almost palpable, which Eio takes notice of immediately. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. She then informs him that there will be so many other fish in the sea the young boy will meet in his life, but she is oblivious to the weight of her son's devotion.

There is no one after you; there is nothing if it can't be you.

Meanwhile, you sing out an amused "hellooooo?" into the phone's speaker. You say your friend's name, exclaiming of how you know this is them and that this stunt they pulled against the infatuated student you tutor was cruel.

You wait for their witty response, to where there is none. All you can hear is the sound of someone's trembling breaths. You say their name in question a few more times, inquiring if the creepy mood was just another silly joke. When all you are met with is sheer silence accompanied by heavy breathing, you bid your friend an annoyed goodbye and end the call.

When you return to the dining room, you are muddled to find there is no one there. Before you are able to call out anyone's name in question, a loud and sharp bang! shakes the entire house. You can hear Rio's muffled voice through the walls. Although you are unable to discern her speech, the perceptible worry in her tone shakes you to your core. What has happened while you were gone? You follow the sounds, only to find her at Miles' bedroom, begging him to unlock the door and let her in. Within said bedroom, it sounds as though a tornado had formed within the small expanse and was destroying anything within its path.

Rio sees you in her peripheral and is swift with taking her phone back, ignoring your worried inquiries, and guiding you back to the dining room. A forced smile is planted on her face as she advises you to pack your things since Miles has suddenly "fallen sick." She begins to pack your things for you and of course, you aid her in these efforts, but she is far more frantic than you are. She slaps several dollar bills in your hand and when you try to inform her this was triple the pay she is meant to give you, your efforts fall on deaf ears. Rio then puts your backpack on you as if you were her child on your first day of Kindergarten.

With a gentle hand on your back, she leads you out the door. On the way, she gives you thanks and apologizes profusely for the unexpected trouble. Before you can reply, the door is slammed in your face. You are left in the dark expanse of the hallway, wondering what on Earth had just occurred. As much as you wish to help, you know there is nothing you can do at this current moment. You consider sending them a gift basket later on to aid Miles through his unexpected "sickness," before returning home as Rio advised you to.

You leave, blissfully unaware of what events are taking place within the Morales household.

When you had left to take the phone call, that is when disaster struck. With tears seeping down his cheeks, Miles abruptly stood from the dining room and stormed off to his room, his mother close behind. He slammed the door shut, locking it before proceeding to take out every sliver of emotion within his body on whatever helpless matter sat closest to him.

Miles' room became a complete disaster within the matter of seconds.

Action figures have been dismembered, posters are torn down, and art equipment has been destroyed. The dents in the wall from what he has thrown about are accompanied by the fist-shaped hole he left in the wall. A window has been shattered, his bed has been upturned, and his desk has been split in half. All emotions barreling through his body wreaked havoc on anything within his path.

His clenched fists form moon-crescent shapes into his palm; his chest rises and falls rapidly with infuriated breaths. His entire body is shaking with misery, rage, and horror. He feels everything at once and it is destroying him. The sobs being pulled from his chest feel like knife wounds through his heart. The tears falling from his cheeks paint his shirt wet and stain his hands from consistently attempting to wipe them away.

How could he not have known?

Through bleary vision, he glances at the door of his closet which has suffered immensely from his havoc, with violent indents and chunks of wood protruding out. Miles then drags his exhausted body across the room.

He enters the closet and locks the door behind him.

How could he not have known?

Just outside all of this destruction, you walk through the bristling streets of Brooklyn. A sharp chill sits on the back of your neck, almost as if someone was hot on your tail. It has you whipping around to verify no sudden danger was there to welcome you to your demise. Usually, walks through the city are calming to you. Tonight, for whatever reason, was different. You excuse it as still feeling perturbed from what had happened moments before with Miles, but the sensation still lingers.

Swinging from building to building behind you is Miguel O'Hara.

He had sat on the top of a neighboring building with a 2023-modeled phone in his hand. Hearing your voice, after a full year of being without the euphonious melody, had his heart halting in his chest. Even after you ended the call, he still sat there. Flabbergasted. Stunned. Euphoric.

The plan he conjured up was swift and flawed. Anyone in their right mind would be devastated to hear your heart belonged to another. Especially Miles Morales. Acknowledging this, he ushered the boy into a full mental breakdown right before you. The sight would surely terrify you, leading you to run away and leave him in the dust of your past. However, this was not the case. Instead, you were concerned about his well-being and wished to stay. The sharp envy coursing through Miguel led him to chuck the phone against the concrete surface of the roof, a few of the shattered remains piercing his skin.

What prevents him from tearing out Miles' throat, scooping you into his arms, and taking you far away is the state of the Multiverse. He refuses to make the same mistake he made a year ago; he refuses to put you in any sort of danger ever again.

For now, he'll create a ridge between you and the boy you're destined to fall in love with. Forging messages, fabricating lies, causing another childlike meltdown of millions. Miguel will do everything in his power to ensure you feel nothing but contempt for this boy while protecting you from your impending death in the process.

He just hopes nobody else in the Spider Society finds out you are alive, as well.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ YOU SAID I WAS THE MOST EXOTIC FLOWER,

HOLDING ME TIGHT IN OUR FINAL HOUR . . . ❞

pinterest owns my heart so i couldn't stop myself. here, here, here, here, and here are some examples/inspiration i used for miguel's penthouse.

gif creds :: miguel.

tag list :: @honey-beeuwu, @thel0v3hashira143, @cailey1011, @mickxxstxvxns-blog, @flaming-vulpix, @puthypirate42069, @dolliemoons, @mikalovesnoodles, @explosiongamora, @thegalacticnacho091, @brinleighsstuff, @shinsou-hoetoshi, @uselessbutinteresting, @amortentor, @fried-milkfish, @officiallypoopoo, @lu-lupe, @belladonnashifter, @forgottenbynature, @marooseshawnash, @funtimefoxybae, @ethnicbratz, @painpainflyaway, @shadepelt4673, @vivacioussaint, @palepettycharmer, @rqdior, @clownwiki, @clever-username96, @bisoudoll, @darlingdontwe, @naiomiwinchester, @weskennedysgirl, @chubbuart, @simpfo, @neytirisarrow, @leilani04, @lizzymizzy-blogg,

@sublimesoulmagazine, @minimari415, @hcmay, @jinuaei, @altusha, @daisygirlll, @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @islandgyal06, @the-hufflebird-girl, @laucoeurs, @nepherawinchester18307, @tiredao3reader, @decadentlawyerapricotcowboy, @kitisb0red, @gabiacee, @reneuv, @krentkova19, @ayupfrogg, @vita-nire, @emmbny, @realifezompire, @hiddencatails, @vincentluvr444, @reneuv, @coolpolicellama, @3zae-zae3, @uselessbutinteresting, @imcool-rat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @theclassycandy, @mialetty, @johnny-pie, @4ng3l-0n-34rth, @twobluejeans, @dazaisimp17, @spacemonkeyfitz, @dressycobra7, @rainbowstar, @darksidescorner, @day-dreams-posts, @superiorbyfar, @thel0v3hashira143, & @cailey1011,

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seullovesme · 3 months

Note

plsplspls write a drabble about seulgi and her abs, i just wanna #### them and #### them so bad

6th member reader mentions her favorite feature about seulgi is her abs and she gets braver about showing them all the time 🤭😭

LMFAOOOO anon you are SO real for submitting this i got so carried away, enjoy babez

not proofread 😞

pairing = 6th member!reader x kang seulgi

warnings ⥬ suggestive

seulgi rereads your bubble message for what may be the 50th time in the span of 5 minutes.

"my favorite part about seulgi? her abs of course.. you know what i mean right? i love them, they're incredible"

every time she reads it, it makes her so giddy and she can feel a smile fight its way onto her face. to think that you, her dearest member, was admiring her body like that and not to mention the fact that you said that to the fans. she put a hand on her stomach and thanked the lord for blessing her with abs. she was thrilled to know that you like a part of her body.

in fact, she was so happy about it that her outfits constantly consisted of shirts that lacked a lower half. she found herself wearing only crop tops in the dorms in hopes that you would give her more attention, but every time you saw her, you never said or did anything.

seulgi was beginning to get upset, you said it yourself that you loved her toned stomach so why weren't you saying anything? she was wearing some of her shortest shirts that even wendy started to comment about how she had been dressing, and then irene did too. it seemed like everyone but you cared, and she was NOT having it.

she busts into your room and spots on your phone in bed. after slamming the door, she stomps her way over to you and snatches your phone out of your hands. you were shocked but what was more shocking to you was seulgi's outfit. she wore a loose cropped sweater that stopped at her ribs and low waisted jean shorts that were definitely too short for her to be wearing in january.

"seul, arent you cold?" somehow, you saying this made her more frustrated. its like you were ignoring what she really wanted on purpose. she pushes you down on your bed and straddles your waist while pinning your arms above your head, making it impossible for you to move. you try to get her off of you saying this is weird, but she stays put. you eventually give up and just opt to hearing her out.

seulgi bursts and tells you all about how she's been wearing these extremely revealing clothes this whole week, trying to earn praises and attention from you but never even batted an eyelash. you could see how mad she was by the way her nostrils flared as she spoke. you try to move one arm but seulgi only tightens her grip, so you ask her to let go for a moment which she does as she fears hurting you.

once she let go, you put a hand on her exposed abdomen and felt the muscles tense under your hands. the sensation was so nice for the girl and you could see it on her face. "you think i wanted to ignore you?" you explained how you ignored her simply because you didn't think you'd be able to control yourself if you didn't. this flusters the girl on top of you and she lets you go to hide her face in embarrassment. you put both your hands on her waist and played the loops in her shorts.

you continued talking about how she should dress like this but only for you. of course she will, after what happened, she will most definitely dress up just for you.

(ok but fr why cant i move my images or texts in post)

#seullovesme » replied!#seulgi x female reader #seulgi x reader #seulgi smut #kang seulgi #seulgi #6th member #kpop gg #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #red velvet x reader #red velvet kang seulgi #seulgi is so fine #seulgi abs #her abs her body her everything

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klausysworld · 7 months

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Heyy I love your work I was wondering if you could do a klaus one we’re the reader is a bit chubby and all of a sudden she started wearing long sleeve and oversized stuff and nobody rlly noticed until they had a party or smth and she wears a dress and when they see here there all rlly shocked cause they didn’t notice how she a lot or weight in like a span of 2-4 weeks and she hasn’t eaten for like 2 days before the party

This one-shot will contain triggering content around eating disorders including both anorexia and bulimia. Please don’t read this is you feel it may upset you or harm you mental health. I’ve had personal issues around this area and know it can be hard. Don’t hesitate to reach out 🤍

Too much or Not enough?

Y/n had struggled with weight as a child, and as a teenager. As a result she had a difficult relationship with food and clothes.

She was naturally a little curvier, but what some people saw as gorgeous another saw as an opportunity to poke fun. And so she grew up hating herself and those around her who would highlight her insecurities.

As she grew out of adolescence and into adulthood she lost a little weight. She went to the gym excessively and ate barely anything. It was unhealthy but in her eyes it was her best option.

She still had her curves but they were complimented more than they were judged but even when people said ‘good’ things about her body, she just saw it at mocking. She would have kept losing the weight but she ended up passing out at the gym and having the paramedics called. They told her she needed to keep a balanced diet and take care of herself and as much as she didn’t want to, the fear of being that embarrassed again haunted her.

So she ate some what regularly for a while but ended up with two fingers down her throat to get it all back out.

She would have carried on that way if it weren’t for the Mikaelsons.

She had ended up being wrapped into the supernatural world and suddenly there were so many other problems in her life that food was almost forgotten.

Between a temperamental pregnant Hayley, overly dramatic Rebekah, pissed off Elijah, furious Marcel, war raging Klaus, power-hungry witches, territorial werewolves and bloodthirsty vampires, Y/n didn’t have much time to focus on herself. Especially not after Hope was born.

The stress seemed to make her hungrier, she would go days without any food and then eating as much as she could to ‘keep herself going’.

She didn’t really realise she had put her weight back on, she assumed running around after everyone would have been enough exercise.

And when Klaus had shown interest in her, when he had kissed her and laid her heart out on his sleeve well she assumed she must have looked good. Someone like him wouldn’t go for who she used to be, right?

And so she gained a small amount of confidence until the supernatural communities began to calm down and it seemed people were more attentive.

Y/n was able to go out more, whether it was with Hayley, Rebekah, Davina or just by herself. And that’s how it circled back.

One or two comments on her figure from men made her wear baggier clothes. An awkward moment with Hayley and Rebekah when the girls went shopping and Rebekah unintentionally made a quip on y/n’s size. Apparently a dress that looked good on Hayley wouldn’t be nice on ‘someone like Y/n’. She had brushed it off and told Rebekah it was fine when the blonde began apologising but inside it was anything but fine.

Even if she hadn’t had any malicious intent or meant it in any offence, it tore up old wounds and brought back something much deeper rooted.

And then when things started to kick off again and Klaus payed y/n less and less attention or affection, she assumed it was because she was no longer attractive to him. Had she gained that much?

So she did what she knew would work.

She forced herself to the gym as often as she could for as long as she could. Drank as much water that was available to her and ate the bare minimum to keep her conscious. Throw up anyway meal that she did happen to consume and have a packet of gum handy incase she got too hungry.

It was even easier to do once Hope was around more, Y/n was often asked to look after the baby while the rest of them took on the new foes and unexpected family members.

When Klaus, Elijah and Marcel had announced there would be a party to celebrate the defeat of a common enemy, Y/n began to worry. The last time she had to dress of for one of those things she was much bigger than she had thought. Looking back on pictures of that evening persuaded her to gag and cough up to the point where she was only throwing up water and blood form how she had torn her throat inside.

Even Hope could sense the change in Y/n’s behaviour when she looked after her. But nobody else did, everyone was too busy to realise.

Klaus had barely looked at her let alone touched her to realise that she had done down 2 clothing sizes and yet was wearing t-shirts triple the size they would need to be. None of the girls payed enough attention to see the bags under Y/n’s eyes or to notice her absence each morning when she would struggle on a treadmill for hours on end. Only Hope, someone who wasn’t even a year old, would give Y/n the hug she so desperately needed.

———————————————————————

It was the day do the party, Y/n stared aimlessly at the dress she had chosen the week before. If she were honest she planned on not going at all, nobody would notice anyway. But then Rebekah came in all bubbly demanding that she know what colours people were wearing she they didn’t clash in photos.

Photos.

Y/n learned to despise them. “The camera adds 10 pounds” she was told by her mother when she was young and it was something she reminded herself every time a flash went off.

So she needed to make sure she looked okay.

She scrubbed her skin raw in the shower, shaved every last hair from her legs before moisturising them and the rest of her body. She avoided any full body length mirrors and focused on her face, covering every flaw possible. Her hair was pulled to be half up half down, leaving pieces to frame her face and still give her enough volume.

She managed to get the dress on that was now a little loose on her, which she should have been worried about but she couldn’t help but feel relieved. The zip went up effortlessly but even so, she didn’t want to step outside of that door. So she stayed on the edge of her bed, her nails licking at the material of her dress as she hoped the night would pass by without her.

She had no such luck when Hayley came knocking on the door

“Y/n? Are you okay? The party started a while ago” she called through the wall and Y/n pinched her own skin desperately

“I don’t think I’m gonna come down…I’ll just keep an eye on Hope” she replied

“Hope’s dressed up and downstairs with Klaus at the moment, you don’t need to watch her, come have fun!” She told her brightly and Y/n could feel herself getting hotter as the nerves poured in

“Parties aren’t really my scene” she responded softly “maybe next time okay?” She tried again but Hayley was getting persistent

“Oh come on, there’s music, drinks, food. Have you eaten yet? Come on we’ll go get something” she encouraged but that only made it worse. Y/n had made sure not to eat anything the last 2 days so that there was zero chance of any bloating and she wasn’t about to ruin that.

“I ate earlier” she lied and Hayley sighed

“Try make an appearance? If not for me then for Rebekah or Klaus” she asked and Y/n could have scoffed. As if either of them had cared less that she was there.

Well so she assumed.

Unfortunately for her she was proven wrong again when the door hand was twisted and pulled, a frustrated groan coming from the other side of the door when they realised it was locked

“Y/n?” Klaus questioned “come out” he ordered and she had the sudden urged to suffocate herself with a pillow.

“I’m going to sleep” she mumbled, though she was still dolled up and sat against the headboard but it wasn’t like he could see her.

“We can fix that, open the door and I’ll grab you a dress” he told her and she pinched the bridge of her nose

“I already have a dress” she muttered in defeat, Klaus wouldn’t walk away as easily as Hayley.

“Perfect. Put it on.” He grumbled “Rebekah needs you in the photo” he added and she nodded, of course they needed to keep their image up.

“I don’t want to be in the photo anyway” she murmured and he groaned

“Just do it” he complained and she reluctantly stood up.

She plodded her way to look in the mirror and yet despite the makeup on her face, she just looked tired. It didn’t matter anymore though, she looked bad in pictures either way, may as-well know it this time.

Just as Klaus was reader to break the handle off the door, it was clicked open and Y/n was looking up at him through glassy eyes.

Klaus’s expression dropped almost instantly when he looked at her. The dress was loose around her body in all areas, her arms thinner than usual making him frown and reach a hand out to grab ahold of her wrist. His eyes locked on hers and his lips parted in shock.

She assumed he was thinking she looked awful, was the dress too small again? Was she too big? She could feel her face heating and her eyes filling with tears. Her breathing grew more laboured and her hands began to ping at the fabric around her to make it seem baggier.

Klaus quickly pulled her into his room so nobody could look up the stairs and see them. He stroked her hair gently as he wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to stop any tears from falling.

“Sweetheart” he whispered quietly, guilt beginning to rise in him. People didn’t loose this much weight this fast. He knew he had been distant the last month but that was to keep her safe not to make her sick, was she I’ll and not told anybody? Or was this something much more?

He feared for the last one as he rubbed her back soothingly while small sniffs lift her and panicked apologies flooded form her lips.

“Why are you sorry my love?” He murmured gently.

“I just wanted to be pretty” she uttered and his heart ached for her. “I tried really hard” she whispered “it wasn’t enough”

“Y/n…” he murmured as his arms held her a little tighter “you’re always pretty, you’re beautiful and bright” he told her “don’t change anything about yourself for anyone else ever”

“I did it for me too” she mumbled and he nodded hesitantly

“Yeah but…this isn’t the way” he whispered and she sniffed

“It’s the only way that works” she argued

“Love, what have you been eating?” He asks and she frowns

“Why does that matter?”

“Because there’s a difference between eating healthily and not eating enough” he told her and she began to grow more upset at his tone

“I eat too much” she utters and he sighs, he placed both hands on her shoulders and looks down at her

“Nobody thinks that” he whispered, his eyes locked on hers as though it would make her listen better. “Not eating at all is as bad as eating too much, we can find a good balance” he persuaded

“I’ve tried balanced diets, it doesn’t work” she shakes her head frustrated

“I’ll find you a better one” he decided and she lets out a laugh

“Why because I suddenly matter enough? If you only just realised that I’ve lost the weight when we live in the same home then Im clearly not worth-“

“Stop” he whispered, a crack in his tone “do not do this to me and do not do this to yourself” he let out a breath “I wouldn’t ever want this to happen to you, I care about you. I was just leaving you out of all the darkness and the pain, you weren’t supposed to bring it to yourself” he snapped. His eyes were hard though he didn’t mean to appear so angry as tears freely flowed down Y/n’s face and a sob let her lips.

At the sound of her cries, Klaus’s bedroom door was opened rather suddenly. A concerned Elijah stepped inside, his eyes falling to Y/n and his brows furrowing as he noticed his brother trying to apologise. Then he noticed the differences from the last few times he had seen her and he picked up on what was happening pretty quickly.

He closed the door behind him and came forward, coaxing Y/n out of Klaus’s arms and into his own.

“Would you like a smoothie my dear? We’ve stocked the kitchen with fruits recently” Elijah murmured softly, his chin on top her head as he glanced to an upset Niklaus. Y/n frowned in confusion at the offer and at the calming affect Elijah seemed to have over everyone. He wasn’t really the hugging type but it was nice to experience one. She didn’t reply but he kept talking “how about I go and get you a smoothie while Niklaus helps you out of this dress? I’m sure you can wear one of his shirts for bed hm?” He lifted her chin up to look down at her. She blinked at him unsure as he tried to convince her further “I’ll bring Hope up as well?” He offered and she nodded slowly.

Elijah gave a look to Klaus and both brothers began to move. Elijah rushed off downstairs and Klaus grabbed one of his henleys. Y/n kept her eyes on the ground as Klaus’s fingers gently undid the dress

“I’m sorry my love” he whispered as he let the material drop down to the floor making goosebumps arise across her skin. His lips pressed to her shoulder softly before the warmth of his top was pulled over her head and her arms were pulled into the sleeves. His arms slid round her waist gently and his nose buried into her hair.

She kept quiet, eyes down as he unclipped her curls and let it all fall loosely around her face. Soft kisses planted their way up her face as Elijah returned with a smoothie and a straw.

Both brothers guided her to sit up on Klaus’s bed before sitting either side of her. Gently she was pulled into Klaus’s lap and the straw was brought to her lips

“The cup is only half full, the rest of it is in the fridge for tomorrow if you should want more” Elijah tells her with a reassuring smile

Klaus brushed his hands along her sides gently as she reluctantly drank what she was given. Both brothers continued to speak of random topics to keep the attention off of her as she took small sips as slowly leant back against Klaus’s chest.

15 minutes later Hayley came by and dropped Hope off, both she and Elijah left, leaving Klaus, Y/n and Hope to snuggle up together with the silent promise that at least Klaus and Elijah and most likely the rest of the Mikaelsons would be helping Y/n find a happier,healthier state of mind and body.

(I hope this was what was wanted, I didn’t go too deep into the topic and still wanted it to have a relatively happier/promising ending. If a darker message or ending was wanted then I would be okay with trying to write something similar for anyone out there. I understand the struggles with eating disorders and also with self harm and just mental health in general so feel free to message or request, anything at all :))

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cooki3face · 8 months

Text

divine feminine/divine masculine update & twin flame update : 8-23-23

Lol, I’m so tired guys, I started school this week, sprained my finger, and the mercury retrograde just started. So it begins, lol anyways let’s get started, these types of readings are made for those in high level soul mate connections or twin flame relationships and connections but if that’s not the case for you and you still find some level of resonance by all means, all guest are welcome. I really love the idea of Monica Bellucci and Jensen Ackles side by side and I don’t know why we didn’t get a romance movie with the two of them together I think it’s rude.

***

divine feminine update:

Divine feminine is really trying hard to do right by herself here or bring Justice in towards her by remaining in the right energy. Her energy has shifted or has taken a little bit of detour from the energy she was in prior or just not too long ago. She may feel tempted by emotion and driven to be impulsive or step into karmic cycles out of boredom or out of impatience here as well. She’s really trying to mindful of her choices, her thoughts, her words and her actions. Trying not to respond to conflict or participate in gossip or speaking negatively or trying not to step into karmic energies or move out of her feminine energy to try and pull things towards her or force things towards her.

She’s showing her strength here and her resilience with this nine of wands upright. She’s trying to ground herself and be strong and brave when she’s feeling the pull of karmic cycles, her divine masculine, and aspects of the ego like anxiety and fear. I see her feeling a little stuck and stagnant as well or feeling as though she’s not getting her flowers or the reward she deserves for the amount of inner work she’s doing here. She could also be feeling distracted and may be feeling as though she has a short attention span or is having a hard time focusing and applying herself in areas of her life that are particularly important to her despite her energy just recently being the opposite. The resurfacing of old emotions and even current emotions can be distracting and really heavy for her to carry at this time.

Divine feminine could be very heavily fixating on past people, past situations and past relationships/connections and/or conflicts that she’s since moved on for, even those she released and moved on from for good valid reasons. She’s also feeling very nostalgic for her divine masculine and fixating on what caused them to fall into separation, past versions of the connection, the influence of other karmic feminines from the past and even enjoyable moments they spent together as well. All of this collectively making her feel a little at a loss in multiple aspects. Feeling very wounded or lonely. And really causing a lot of turbulence in her mind and heart at this time. Divine feminine may be also seeing other people in relationships at this time and is forgetting to receive and consume those things as confirmation that reconciliation is coming for her and is taking them in as a sore reminder that she’s by herself or in separation with her divine masculine at this time.

In her physical life divine feminine may be trying to stay disciplined or grounded in her work, goals, and endeavors but may be feeling very bored and overall very stuck. She may find herself being hard on herself for being tired or not feeling able to show up and devote as much time and attention as she was recently into her work and her goals. At this time, she feels the most disconnected from her divine masculine as she’s ever had in a long time, and therefore disconnected from herself because her divine masculine and her shame the same soul. She feels very ungrounded and out of alignment and even like her values and previous boundaries and standards are wavering under the pressure of emotion and loneliness.

divine feminine to her divine masculine:

“Save the date.” Divine feminine is incredibly ready to tie the knot and come into Union with divine masculine. Her sights are set on marriage. Divine feminine remember what you’re doing all of this for. Remember what you deserve.

“Tired of chasing you.” Divine feminine feels as though even still, she is chasing after divine masculine in spirit due to how badly she misses him and is looking for his companionship and waiting for his arrival. Divine feminine this is not the case, you have evolved too much to physically step back into the energy of chasing. Remember that he can not be any further from you than you are from yourself. His heart is within yours. His heart is yours.

“You make me feel weak in the knees, I don’t want you to see that.”

“I support you.” Divine feminine has been using her energy to send divine masculine love and support while she focuses on her own growth and expansion.

“Love yourself. Make me proud.”

“I want to gain your trust back.”

“Please.”

“One week.”

“Do you still think about me?”

advice from spirit:

“Remain confident and hold onto your faith and your values divine feminine you are right on the brink of receiving all of your blessings. Don’t give up. It is normal to feel tired or want to give up when you’re the closest to winning or succeeding you’ve ever been before. Your manifestation is right ahead of you, you just don’t see it yet. The best thing you can do is work on these emotions that are coming up and continue to show yourself compassion and serve yourself Justice by pushing to come into alignment with yourself once again. Honor your inner child, honor emotions that you feel deeply. This too shall pass. Remember all that you feel coming. Remember your worth and remember what you deserve to reserve and remain loyal to your higher self and to your manifestations. Everything you do, do it only out of love. Remember, remember, remember what you’re doing all of this for. Do not doubt your intuition in the belief that good things are coming for you and you are right on the cusp of receiving them. Remove your divine masculine as a separate entity outside of yourself out of the equation. His physical form does not matter. His spirit is yours. He is your soul. Separate you are nothing. The only thing you can do is pour all of your energy into yourself and push through this storm with all of your might. Surrender. Embrace oneness.

***

divine masculine update:

Divine masculine is constantly having breakthroughs and becoming more conscious and aware of this twin flame connection and the love and passion he feels for his divine feminine. He’s realizing a lot, he’s growing, she’s making shifts and getting ready to step into his power and follow his divine feminine into the new timeline she’s entering all on her own. He’s still growing and readying himself to come forward though his karmic is proving herself a distraction at this time and trying to pull him out of his inner work and keep him away from coming towards divine feminine.

But, divine masculine knows he’s not in alignment with his higher self because of this karmic relationship and where he stands at this time and he feels very alone and disconnected from divine feminine now that he better understands her and understands their love and their connection. He knows there’s no place else he’s supposed to be. He’s preparing to bring Justice to the connection and to himself by releasing this karmic and coming towards his divine feminine. He’s pushing through these last phases of standing outside of union with his divine feminine and trying to learn his karmic lessons and center himself before he comes in. Much like divine feminine he is experiencing the Storm before everything calms down again and is quiet and still.

Divine feminine and divine masculine are so incredibly close to Union it is only a matter of time before everything falls into alignment and they meet again. The synchronicities in my message cards and in the tarot spreads between divine masculine and divine feminine are incredible. They’re mirroring each other so intensely. They are surrendering to the connection, they are coming into true oneness with one another. Divine masculine is doubting his divine feminine is waiting for him or open to receiving him just as she doubts out of fear that he is coming back to get her. Divine masculine fears and doubts that their wish fulfillment of Union and manifestations aren’t going to come in due to the feeling of delay even though they feel them near and resonate with them so deeply.

Divine masculine is feeling incredibly upset, sad and heart broken at the distance he perceives to be between him and divine feminine. He misses her deeply and dearly. He is gathering all his courage and all of his might to come towards divine feminine very soon. He’s feeling stuck where he is and with the circumstances he’s dealing with in his life and it’s taking everything in him not to run towards divine feminine before he feels like he’s ready or has tied up all his loose ends, gotten rid of the karmic and prepared everything to come into union with her. He want’s everything to be perfect for divine feminine. He’s been saving up a lot of money or putting aside funds because he’s planning to come with a gift or some sort of large gesture.

He’s focusing on his work right now, hustling and stacking up his money so he can come ready and bless his divine feminine and shower her in gifts and abundance. He could even be looking at houses or engagement rings or he’s readying himself to move her out of her home (wherever she’s living) so they can share a home or a space together. He’s planning all of this behind the scenes. When he comes in this will be big, he will have everything covered. Everything taken care of. He’s preparing so fiercely for this transition and this is what’s keeping him motivated and in alignment with himself.

At night when he can’t be productive or when he’s supposed to be resting he is left with his thoughts and feels depressed and sad that his divine feminine isn’t around, he’s feeling restless or has been losing sleep, I believe he’s having nightmares or even crying himself to sleep at night. Nights are the hardest for divine masculine right now and divine feminine may even be feeling this energy in her own restlessness and sleep schedule, staying up late, sleeping in too late, being tired, not being able to get to sleep quickly or sleep that well, waking up in the middle of the night or at 2-3 in the morning.

He’s so intensely in love and he’s feeling it very deeply.

divine masculine to his divine feminine:

“I want to make you feel special.” Divine masculine sees the worth in his divine feminine. He knows it’s his right to value her.

“My souls-purpose is to love you & be loved by you.”

“focusing on my money right now.” What did I say?? He’s putting money together.

“I’d never betray you.” He’s asking in such a deeply profound way that she trust in him and know that he would never betray her even if that’s what it may seem like that from an outside perspective. He’s hopelessly devoted.

“You’re always on my mind.”

“I want to come towards you.”

“I didn’t deserve what you put me through.” He realizes how deep of a hurt it is to be without his divine feminine now. His heart is broken. Her taking the step to step away from him shook him awake.

“You are home.”

“Show the world how special you are, my love.” Divine masculine is supporting and rooting for divine masculine just as deeply and loudly as she is for him.

“Telepathically communicate with me.” Divine masculine is talking to divine feminine through dreams and even in his waking life hoping she hears him and she does.

“I’m hoping you haven’t moved on from me.”

“You make me feel safe.”

“I’m tired of chasing you.” Yet another synchronicity. They both feel the longing and the desire to run towards each other. They’re tired of being apart.

“One week.” !!!

“Third party”

“I miss your voice.”

“I know you’re losing patience.”

“I want to spoil you.” More confirmation. Big gifts coming in. Hearing “thank you to my man.”

“Save the date.” Divine masculine is ready to get married too!

“you’re my little love.”

“Manifest me.”

“I know I have to come in before it’s too late.”

advice from spirit:

“Allow the existence of these karmic relationships and karmic patterns to fall away and come to the surface. Be strong and face such things with the upmost courage and determination. Everything will be okay. It is okay to feel the pain of being in separation or feel discouraged or afraid but do not let it consume you because it is within our own plan that you two come together regardless of what happens or where you are in your lives. Be secure in knowing that knowing can predate or outlive or disrupt this connection. It is within our plan that you come into union within this life. Your time is now. Trust in us. Don’t allow jealousy or fear that she is with someone else discourage you or take over your mind. Those things are not real. If she were with someone else you know deep in your heart and soul that they could not replace you or be larger than you are in her heart and vision. You are apart of her. At every moment. In any circumstance. She cannot part from you. Not even in death. Step into your divine masculine energy , step into your power and come towards her upright and ready and be brave. Honor your heart break it is proof that she is where you belong. That your heart belongs in the safety of hers.

***

Songs 🎶:

Weak- SWV

You’re Always On My Mind- SWV

(Sang them both religiously while channeling and shuffling for this entire reading)

***

I love you! Quick good-bye cause my finger is hurting and I’ve neglected to take care of it and go to a medical professional lmfao! 💋 book a personal reading with and don’t forget I’m having a 10$ mercury retrograde reading the entire mercury retrograde!!

#self love #self care #self improvement #self discovery #dream girl #self expression #healingjourney #self healing #manifestation #divine feminine #divine masculine #divine feminine divine masculine #twin flame #twin flame update #divine feminine update #divine masculine update #twin flame union #Spotify

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tessa-quayle · 11 months

Text

FanFiction Recommendations

before I disclose my favorite Pedro Pascal character-related fan fiction here, a few caveats and disclosed biases: I’m a woman of a certain age. I was your average English lit major. I’m the dork who - upon listening to Jewel’s debut album and hearing the lyric “you can be Henry Miller and I’ll be Anais Nin” in the mid 1990s - legit hauled my ass to the local public library and looked up Anais Nin - using the Dewey Decimal system - to read her elevated smut. Right now I’m a content but exhausted, ragey American woman in a mid-life crisis. I hate bullshit, I have an ok attention span, I scroll/read after the family’s gone to bed.

if you look at my semi-neglected Tumblr page, you’ll see I’m relatively new to the Pedro fandom. What a privilege to dive into really superb writing. This is clearly not an exhaustive list and reflects my tastes (and to each her/his/their own)! But if you’re an exhausted parent in a mid-life crisis and have no time, this may be for you!

in no particular order...

@fuckyeahdindjarin - masterlist - Cee describes herself as a writer who pens romantic comedies - and she does a stellar job with them - but she sells herself short and fails to mention the sex scenes she writes are hot. especially love the consent series (dieter bravo), the grays 2-part series (frankie morales), and of course, the ongoing joel miller/pin series. a delightful mix of angst, sweetness, spice. and a thoughtful writer with an inclusive mindset.

@absurdthirst - masterlist - if you told me Keri has a few stories published in several “best of erotica” anthologies, I’d believe you. good smut is fucking hard to write. this is great smut. this is smut you read and then take a cold shower afterwards or do whatever it is you like to do to get yourself off. it’s smut that even as a non-smoker and knowing all the terrible health risks you may think goddamn I need a cigarette. I'm partial to a few Javier Pena and Agent Whiskey pieces, but you’d be satisfied reading any of her stories.

@something-tofightfor - masterlist - Rachael should give a master class on how to write the best slow burn. Her Joel Miller stories stand out for several reasons including - 1) she thoughtfully incorporates elements of the original canon/game into her fanfic which is uncommon in the PP fandom (from what I’ve seen/read at least), 2) every Joel story/chapter is compelling and well imagined. Her current series on Tim Rockford has me on the edge of my seat and I'm eagerly awaiting the next installment. And judging from the titles of her stories, we have similar music tastes (ha!).

@disgruntledspacedad - this writer hasn’t updated in several months, but their Javier Pena multi-chapter fic (and folks, there are MANY out there) called Better Love is the one that kept me going and going and wanting to read more (see mention of short attention span in a tired mama above). being in the healthcare field, I also arch my eyebrows out of curiosity when someone weaves medical stuff into their writing and wonder what line of work they do. (yes I'm a terribly biased nerd, I’m a sucker for when someone puts a f!physician reader into their PP-character related drabble).

@jomiddlemarch - she is a great friend and a gifted, amazing writer who always makes me wonder “how does she do this and how does she do this so well and so quickly while the rest of us plebes are just getting through our day.” she writes for MULTIPLE fandoms (and judging from the notes on her posts, I think her readership is more into those than Pedro and the Last of Us but it’s ok!), and started writing Joel Miller and an OFC (she created!) named Grace Yang (NOT ME - but maybe there’s a chance she created this OFC to shut me up since I’ve been rambling on and on about how besotted I am with Pedro 😂). If you’re into OFCs, read her stuff. Check out the (ongoing) entire series on her AO3 here. Here’s one story that you can find on her Tumblr. Two of the five stories are Ted Lasso crossovers - all her stories are written so richly and so layered - she’s the star in your writing workshop who’s showing and not telling - I’m still thinking about how there’s so much to unpack in the latest one. :)

#fic rec #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena #joel miller #agent whiskey #tim rockford #dieter bravo #frankie morales #fuckyeahdindjarin #absurdthirst #something-tofightfor #disgruntledspacedad #jomiddlemarch

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sakuradeservedbetter91 · 4 months

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Bink! Can we please hear about Norman Fucking Rockwell for the WIP name game I'm intrigued

ALEX! YES SIR YOU MAY! 🥹🥰

So. This fic. Oh boy. I started writing it back when I came back to writing fanfic in 2020 after finding the lovely ShiSaku ship, and that's when I started actually interacting in fandom and talking to people and not being a lurker! Bc I've read fic for YEARS, and I've left comments and what not back when I was active on ff dot net (which also has my very old and first fanfics I wrote when I was in high school 💀).

And like, my first spicy, smutty fic I published was my KankuSaku fic after I came back to writing fanfic, BUT THIS FIC. This was the first fic where I actually wrote smut. I just never finished it before the KankuSaku one, and ofc, as is my usual now, I got a ton of other plot bunnies and fic ideas I started writing as my attention span drifted 🤣

ANYWAY, around this time is when Lana Del Rey's album Norman Fucking Rockwell!! had just come out and I was listening to it on repeat, and I got the crazy idea to write a ShiSaku fic for each song on that album bc I kept getting inspired🤣 I have a whole document of the ideas for each song.

And so, ANYWAY, long story short, this is one of my first fics I started writing and haven't finished yet bc it's a doozy and is going to be longer than initially planned.

The premise is a modern au AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES, and some mutually secret pining but also maybe they're both in denial, and also best friends with benefits turned lovers. ANYWAY.

Here's a lil snippet for your trouble and having to read all this 🥹 this is also the part of the fic where I definitely used some lines from the song 🤣 SOME SPICE AHEAD 🫡

“God damn,” Sakura panted, long pink hair spread out against her bedroom pillow. Sheet pulled up over her naked chest, forehead slicked with sweat, Sakura looked to her left and arched a brow. “I know it’s been a while for me, but god damn, Shisui.”

He smirked and gave a throaty chuckle before leaning back against her headboard, arms crossed behind his head, her gray sheets low on his hips. She bit her lip as her eyes trailed the lines of his abdomen, remembering how she was trapped beneath his body moments ago.

“God damn is right,” Shisui said, a dimpled grin still on his face as he noticed her appraisal. He raked one hand through his unkempt curls, obsidian eyes crinkled as he continued, “Now why didn’t we do that years ago? I know I’m good at sex, but it’s never been that good.”

Sakura rolled her eyes, ignoring the flutter in her heart as she turned on her side and cradled her head in her left hand. She knew why it was so good for her, but she knew it couldn’t possibly be the same reason for him.

“Shisui, years ago we weren’t even friends,” Sakura said. She looked away quickly when Shisui scoffed and reached out to poke her forehead, trying not to blush. Years ago, as a teen, Sakura had an embarrassing crush on him, but she’d never tell him that.

“Oh, come on. You, Sasuke, and Naruto were joined at the hip growing up,” Shisui started, “and Itachi and I were always there to play with you when those two brats had one of their spats.”

Sakura looked back at him and giggled, batting her eyelashes cheekily before saying, “Hmm, I remember Itachi nicely humoring me while I waited those two idiots out, but I don’t remember you. I only remember an annoying nuisance pulling on my pigtails. Must not have happened.”

“Oi, come here you,” Shisui growled playfully, leaning over and grabbing Sakura by her hips, dragging her on top of him. The sheet fell away from her chest, yet even indifferent to her bareness, Sakura still blushed as Shisui eyed her petite breasts with a grin.

Sakura steadied herself on his lap, bending her legs around his waist, hands resting on his shoulders as she looked into his hooded eyes now that she was on top of him again, nestled against his lower body. Shisui settled his hands on her waist, thumbs slowly rubbing circles into her skin underneath the waistband of her underwear he was too impatient to take off earlier. As he increased the pressure of his thumbs, Sakura hummed at the warmth and closed her eyes, rolling her neck until she heard a pop.

Suddenly, the warmth was gone and Sakura was gasping for breath as her back hit her mattress. Shisui hovered over her, his fingers tickling her sides and drifting towards her armpits–her most ticklish spot. His mouth ticked upwards as mischief bloomed in his eyes.

“S-stop, S-Shisui, oh my god, s-stop!” Sakura laughed, rolling around and clenching her arms against her body to ward off his attack.

Shisui laughed and Sakura’s heart stuttered like it always did, but she ignored it as his fingers drifted down towards the back of her knees. She kicked out trying to escape his grasp.

“Didn’t happen, huh?” Shisui sang, laughter in his throat. “How do I know all your most sensitive places then, huh?”

Sakura giggled and then screamed as Shisui reached the back of her knees despite all her kicking. After a moment of struggling, she finally got out from under him, wrestling him back onto the bed. She locked her knees around his pelvis and pressed her torso flush against his, breasts flat against his chest as her arms pinned his shoulders down. Sakura marveled at how Shisui was still so warm but focused on catching her breath.

Huskily, Sakura said between breaths, “Shisui, we just spent the past two hours fucking each other’s brains out. Of course you know all my sensitive areas.”

“Ah, but do you know mine, Sakura-chan?” Shisui asked, bucking his hips against hers, one eyebrow arched in a challenge.

Sakura laughed, squirming at the sudden arousal she felt at his actions. Looking down at him, she smirked and said, “You know, for someone so tall, and older I might add, you act like such a fucking man-child sometimes, Shisui-kun.”

“You love it,” Shisui murmured, bringing his hands back to her hips and pushing them down against his.

#asks #shisaku #binkerbell writes #snippets

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planet-magic-land · 2 months

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°₊·ˈ∗♡ meet the friends ♡∗ˈ‧₊°

🔩🦀🦈⛄🖨️🦆💢🎱

youtube

more info on each character under the Keep Reading! :-]

Jack Honey-Dew 🔩

she/her

"Jack is what you get when you take Love and squash it down as much as possible into one, singular form. With an ever creative inventor as a parent, it's no wonder Jack is such a lover for all things technology! A little bundle of love and a giant nerd"

👃- smells like Baking

🔊- voice; Car Noises

🐾- feels like a marshmallow

🕹️- Jack can shrink down and fit into small areas where others simply won't fit!

❓- she lives in a lil house on a roundabout with her pet woof Goldie, loves hanging out with her best friend Daryl, and LOVES her big girlfriend Chalk :)

🌟- Jack's favourite Smell is Vanilla

Daryl Battenburg 🦀

he/him

"the best boy you'll ever meet! Daryl loves helping others wherever he can, though when that often gets overwhelming for him, you'll find him back at his home in the calming countryside of Easter Evergreens, taking each day as it comes.."

👃- smells like Bonfire

🔊- voice; Saxophone

🐾- feels like a pincushion

🕹️- Daryl can glide over short distances with his little wings!

❓- he has a pet Snail called April, loves hanging out with his best friend Jack, and he has a Heart of Gold.. and a Skeleton of Gold.. Yes.

🌟- Daryl's favourite Food is the Jam that both his Mums make at home :)

Chalk Sunshine 🦈

she/her - they/them

"there are ancient tales lost to time of The Legendary One Armed Blacksmith, who spent their life not building weapons, but prosthetics and creations to help benefit Magic Land rather than harm it, who knew that this mysterious Legendary Blacksmith was such a Big Softie! literally!"

👃- smells like Vanilla

🔊- voice; Toy Piano

🐾- feels like a plushie :)

🕹️- all of her experience with Blacksmithing has granted Chalk immunity to fire!

❓- she has a secret compartment in her chest, will often hold their own tail for comfort when nervous or overwhelmed, and LOVES her little girlfriend Jack :)

🌟- Chalk's favourite Thing is Bubble Wrap, they like the sound and texture :)

Kirb ⛄

she/her - they/them

"said to have fallen from the sky like a shooting star, she may have no memory of where she came from, but to be honest with such an empty head she doesn't seem to have the attention span to care about that too much, and would rather play in the playground and take naps with her closest friend Bee."

👃- smells like Fresh Fudge

🔊- voice; Humming

🐾- feels like a fully filled firm balloon

🕹️- Kirb is surprisingly stronger than she looks!

❓- she prefers humming over talking, quietly squeaks and creaks due to her Balloon Body, and she can sometimes Get Really Big. she doesn't know how she can do this. She Just Can.

🌟- Kirb's favourite Thing is her Blankie

Bee 🖨️

she/her

"long ago on Garden Island, there was the Dream Machine, and it pumped out many creatures called Bees, all similar in looks, different in colours, but identical in their Enthusiasm, High Energy, and Motivation to learn new skills and explore. One day, a Bee came out who was, a little bit different. Her colours didn't quite match, and she lacked that High Energy and Motivation that the other Bees were full of, and though the other Bees treated her no differently, our Bee felt like she didn't quite belong, so, she set out by herself, to try and find purpose and peace within herself.."

👃- smells like Rain

🔊- voice; Banjo

🐾- feels like flocked cardboard (all Bees are like this)

🕹️- Bee might be slower than the others, but she can jump higher!

❓- she lives in a van, has thoughts about one day opening a coffee shop (once she figures out what "coffee" is) and prefers the silent company of Kirb

🌟- Bee's favourite Smell is Fresh Dirt

Snowbly Goodfriend 🦆

they/them

"once upon a pasture there was a duck and the duck lived in a pond and one day a guy called angel told the duck You Must Build A Shed because a Great Big Truck Full Of Tools will crash and theyll need somewhere for the tools Obviously so the duck took the closest hammer they could get but the very large hammer they took was Thors so he cursed the duck into a different body but then the Not Duck took the very large hammer again and was banished yes the end"

👃- smells like Lavender

🔊- voice; Quack Quack

🐾- feels like a mattress (all Snowfriends are like this)

🕹️- Snowbly can reach where others simply can't with the mighty power of their magic extendable hammer, Smight!

❓- they love to work on all things vehicular, are basically the baby of the group, and them and Kirb silently see each other as Siblings

🌟- Snowbly's favourite Food is Toast. Burnt.

Kipling 💢

she/her

"A Quest Be Upon Thee! Can YOU help the mighty Hero climb to the top of the Crying Crystal Cat Tower to reach the Time Device and defeat Kipling, Queen of Chaos? Scale Countless Floors of danger and surprise! Slay Monstrous Beasts! Collect the VII Idols, and purge this wicked land of all that stand in the way of Hero! available wherever games are sold."

👃- smells like Fast Food

🔊- voice; Spooky Halloween Noises

🐾- feels like a PUNCH TO THE FACE!!!1!

🕹️- Kipling iS IMPERVIOUS TO ALL ATTACKS PHYSICAL AND MYSTICAL!!1! COME AT ME!! !

❓- Kipling loves to boast that she is the "Villain Of Everything Ever", has very little tolerance for anyone and anything that gets on her nerves in the slightest, though has a soft spot for the rest of the group HEY DON'T TELL THEM THAT

🌟- Kipling's favourite Thing is The Beach IT CALMS ME DOWN OKAY. YOU TELL ANYONE AND I'LL BITE YOU.

Stranger 🎱

she/her - they/them - it/its

"a Space Robot infused with the DNA of several now-extinct Aliems, she spent a huge part of her past escaping what she was made for, and then spent the rest of it exploring every nook and cranny of whichever slivers of Magic Land's outer rims she could fit into. Other than that, she's a walking enigma, and trying to figure out what goes on inside that confusing mind of hers will only teach you one thing; she's a Weird Creacher and you might as well accept it."

👃- smells faintly like Gasoline

🔊- voice; Pipe Organ (though she doesn't speak often enough to hear it)

🐾- feels like foam

🕹️- Stranger's built in filters and Aliem DNAs grant her immunity to Toxic Chemicals such as Eggplant Gas, Grey Pollen, and Stinky Spores!

❓- she can switch between two separate heads, often carries around her Teddy Bear that also serves as storage for all sorts of items (including whichever head she isn't using), and she is on a personal quest for the One True 8 Ball..

🌟- Stranger's favourite Food is The Fried Egg

thank you for reading!!! ʕ =^ ᴥ ^= ʔ /°₊·ˈ∗♡

#took me a year to make a new OC post but here it is #shmowowpow #art #artists on tumblr #oc #ocs #own characters

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homemadegirlbossbattle · 11 months

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ROUND 3 / SIDE B / POLL 2

Purity (@poicyss) vs. Selene Cromswell (@clovenhooved, art by Ana Luiza Garcia)

Purity info:

Description: Purity is a deity who’s main job is to just make sure nothing disrubs the timelines. She’s there to fix any mistakes that might change the way things “should be”. She keeps the world pure of chaos by cleaning out and filtering anything that may go wrong. However, since her job is mostly just to make sure other’s aren’t falling behind on their jobs, she has a lot of free time. She may not actually be a young god, but she acts like one. Her attention span has been broken by ages of doing absolutely nothing, so she has started people watching to pass the time. She loves people and the art they make! So she tries to make some art herself, turning some teenagers into Magical Girls and dropping them into a world without magic. This is like introducing an invasive species but worse. She’s basically writing magical fanfiction for actual people and forcing them to abide by the story’s whims because she is bored. She writes fanfic like a middle schooler, so it’s all needlessly edgy at times too. But it’s ok! She’s having fun :) And she’s so passionate and genuine about it all, if you tell her she’s doing bad she’ll cry. You wouldn’t want to make her cry! She’s so cute and full of joy and girlishly whimsy 🥺 But yeah she doesn’t get that what she’s doing is wrong she’s just having fun #girlswag

Crimes:

💖Introduction of foreign magic in a magic-less world (corrupts the world, fucks up the ecosystem and power dynamics of the entire world, will eventually have major consequences) 💖Introduction of foreign species (she has to make monsters for the magical girls to fight when there isn’t enough crime going on. This is obviously Bad monsters are Bad) 💖Mundicide (Read above) 💖General Manipulation (TECHNICALLY if you didn’t want to be a Magical Girl you could just say no… But she deliberately does research to find girls who she know CAN’T deny her. Usually this means scouting out children who don’t know any better) 💖Indoctrination (Read above) 💖Corruption 💖Psychological Abuse 💖Whatever Waking Someone Up From A Coma Counts As (One of her magical girls is a sick girl who she forced to wake up from her medically induced coma. She is not healthy enough to be a magical girl. But she is also Purity’s favorite, so she just forces the other girls to protect her with their lives teehee) 💖Not Doing Her Fucking Job 💖General Hypocrisy 💖Being so cute and nice all the time aww awww

Other notes from the submitter: She is an antagonist for a web comic I am planning on making and is SPECIFICALLY inspired by Drosselmyer (Princess Tutu) and Kyubey (Madoka Magica) so if you like her please watch Princess Tutu I owe that series my life

Selene Cromswell info:

Description: okay. OKAY. D&D OC. Selene is a widow of a husband that she killed in the pursuit in higher knowledge and gaining lichdom. She had one son, Cyrus, who was restricted in his formative years, being made to follow in her footsteps in perfecting wizardry. She is headmistress of a magic college.

She grew up in a backwater side of the world, born to ex-adventurer parents with deep cowboy roots, and was the only child out of her siblings to not inherit storm sorcery from her mother. She has deep issues with self worth and always wants to be the most intelligent in any room.

Crimes:

Tried to murder her father in a misguided attempt at vengeance -Burned her family’s home to the ground -Murder in general to get what she wants -Manipulation, gaslighting, blackmailing to get to the top -Killing her husband thru an…. ‘accident’ in the pursuit of being a lich -Terrible mom in general -Didn’t let her son leave the magic campus, causing him to burn down a building and run in the panic

Other notes from the submitter: a milf for your consideration………..

#poll #oc poll #hmgbb

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eunoiaastralwings · 1 year

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Hello, may I get headcanons for how an elf with a strict or serious attitude would react to being chosen by the valar, to act as a mentor to raise and teach a young human child, in their early teen years? Like how would they react to the child being very hyper and excited all the time and just wants to play, like how young kids usually do. Elves being very serious most of the time and wise, how would they react to having to deal with a complete opposite of themselves. Would they get mad and frustrated, or have patience? Would they try a different method of teaching to get them to pay attention? Etc? And how would they react to other humans or elves belittling the child for being raised by another race? You can choose the elf or elves if you want that would best fit this ask. One that is pretty much serious or is not used to being around kids.

Caranthir with a Hyperactive Human Child

featuring caranthir and adopted child (gender neutral)

fandom tolkien — the silmarillion

warnings mortality vs immortality

a/n i mean the 1st person that came to mind was Cara - who else but Cara lmaoo. I hope you enjoy this anon <;/3 thanks again@theladyvanya I owe you my life

Carnistir let out another sigh - witnessing your attention had yet again diverted elsewhere. He pinched the bridge of his nose as you blabbered on about whatever else that was not important as of this moment.

He really could not understand why the Valar had chosen him of all people - to mentor this hyperactive human child.

He still remembered standing before the Queen of the Stars herself - in shock and disbelief as she handed over you to him.

You were in fits of laughs and giggles - eagerly wrapping your arms around his legs.

Carnistir had asked Queen Varda as to why - but she chose not to reply him and only encouraged him to take care of you.

It was havoc at first - he has 6 brothers, 3 younger ones too, kids weren’t exactly a new concept to him but mentoring and raising you had been a completely different concept.

Not even the Ambarussa was this hard.

Carnistir had found himself in the aid of his mother multiple times.

His mother, being the ever wiser, had tried to advise both himself and you - you were simply a child craving his constant attention in whatever little thing that fascinated you.

He couldn’t understand why you couldn’t sit in one less and listen to him - however Nerdanel had explained to him children did not have the same attention span as adults.

Something he should have known. . .

But he couldn’t even teach more than 3 seconds - before you bounded off to somewhere interesting in whatever was in the other end of the room or happily rattled off about a particular story you read.

He let out a sigh and tried to speak with you - but chose to remember his mother’s advice.

Carnistir supposed it was getting late - he scooped you up in his arms still wondering how had bundles of energy to be fighting against him and refusing to be put to bed.

Sometimes it made him wonder if you were actually a human child.

He had placed Tyelko on a pedestal on being the one to never run out of energy - but somehow even you outturned him.

But he had come to terms on this is just who you were and he could not ever ask you to change - in all honesty he had grown to admire your hyperactive self, even if it made him roll his eyes or made him frustrated.

Some days Queen Varda had come to see how you were doing - and some days she took you away for a few days and Carnistir found those days to be quite lonely or too silent.

Usually he welcomed the peace and quiet with open arms but he found to be rather restless these days now - missing how you bound over to either him or something you found interesting in his study.

Or your endless chatter - he missed it so much.

The day you had returned to him - Carnistir found himself crouching with arms open ready to grasp you into a tight hug as you came running over and he closed his eyes in relief.

It was something he had never done so - but at that moment it felt like a natural reflex like he had been doing it all his life.

He had shocked himself with the gesture and how tightly he held onto you like you were his own. . .

It was at that moment he knew - you definitely made sure to keep yourself as a permanent fixture in his life. He loved hearing whine and cry for his attention in the mornings when you awake tired and hungry.

He loved how giddy how you jumped on his lap as he tried to do this work.

He loved how you babble out complete nonsense in the middle of meetings - making everyone in the room laugh.

He loved how you cuddled into his arms rubbing your sleepy eyes whenever you were tired from your active day.

He loved it all - and he would change any of it for the world.

When Carnistir had announced to adopt you - Queen Varda and Nerdanel was most pleased, it had been Fëanáro, his father that took the most convincing to take you into the family.

In all honesty he was afraid of his Morifinwë facing the mortality of the human child he decided to adopt and raise as his own.

But soon even you managed to melt the crown prince’s heart with hyperactive self and infectious giggles.

So soon - Carnistir had you as his own child, loving you just the way you were.

Though he still receives questionable looks and concerns - he never let any of it stop it from loving and spending every moment with you. . .

Because Eru knew, Carnistir did not have much time with you because of mortality. . .

Good luck with suitors - no one seems to be good enough for his child.

But when you finally find the one - he will be accepting, after being the big scary overprotective dad.

Your passing away would have been the hardest thing he would have to face - and it would have killed him too, but he kept himself alive and watched over your family line, never letting anything happen to your kin and descendants.

It was like seeing you being reborn again. . .

Taglist form

tara's taglist: @wandererindreams @fizzyxcustard @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @asianbutnotjapanese @floraroselaughter @mismaeve

silm taglist: @doodle-pops

#caranthir imagine #caranthir silmarillion #caranthir #morifinwe #carnistir #eunoiawrites #caranthir the dark #caranthir headcanon #the silm fandom #the silmarillion fandom #the silmarillion #the silmarillion x reader #the silm #silmarillion #silm

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oligoweee · 7 months

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Smile Hell Info Dump

I'm going to basically info dump about my old Smiler story called "Smile Hell." I never even got close to finishing the story, I only got roughly 20k words in and that didn't even get into it all however I had lost motivation.

In this universe, the Ministry of Joy (it's not actually called that) basically has locations all across the globe that aim for bringing joy to everyone but have many faults and there was even a reversal serum in the works. The Smiler roller coaster does exist at Alton Towers and there are many rumors surrounding it, some of which are in fact secretly true. I think it is an interesting take on the MOJ and I'd love to go back to it someday but for now I will give a fairly in-depth summary and talk about what was written, general lore/ideas, and what I had planned, including the ending.

Trigger warnings for: suicide, mental illness, kidnapping, murder, medical themes, abuse, and gore.

(Not going into detail for these because this is just a summary-type thing but they are referenced so I am putting warnings as a precaution.)

This is gonna be a VERY long (roughly 4.5k words long) post so have fun reading if you decide to, you're in for a long ride :)

[Also here was the cover for it!]

So, the important characters are:

Levee Bailey

Lance Hawks

Archie Bailey

Isa [No Last Name]

Doctor Thomas Lukes

Braylen [No Last Name]

This story takes place in 2021 in Maine USA and specifically a real life county by the name of Oxford.

Many people over the span of a year were going missing and no one was able to find them or they would be found but they behaved drastically different than before.

In Oxford County, two families lived there known as the Bailey family and the Hawks family. Lance Hawks was a theme park enthusiast and would travel all over the world or just go to theme parks nearby in the US, one of these trips was Alton Towers and he offered to bring along his neighbor and closest friend, Levee Bailey alongside her two teenage brothers, Archie and Koda. This trip was only left to references in the story. They went on the Smiler of course and things were fine up until they flew back to the US.

Before that, Koda had been struggling with mental illness and it kept declining but then the trip (and specifically the Smiler) had boosted his mood for a few weeks afterward until it started to decline again. In May, he committed suicide however his sister had been there and for months afterward, she thought it was her fault and that she was a murderer despite everything telling her otherwise. His death was all over the news and attracted a bunch of public attention and many articles online.

So now we get to where the main story begins, September of 2021.

Levee is still dealing with her grief and she often finds herself standing in Koda's room just grieving. She has flashbacks of the day he died quite often. Since the loss of Koda, Levee tried making attempts to get closer with her remaining brother, Archie, but experiences a lot of pain when looking at him because of his similar resemblance to Koda.

Since her brother's death, Levee constantly feels like she's being watched. Like hundreds of eyes are on her at all times. She's constantly paranoid outside her home and is always telling herself that everything is in her head. What she doesn't know is that she is in fact being somewhat watched in one way or another. This feeling is both real and in her head at the same time.

One morning she wakes up and realizes that her best friend (and neighbor), Lance, is not in his garden and she finds that really odd because he's always gardening in the mornings unless he's traveling. Levee tries thinking logically but deep down she feels that something bad has happened. And she is absolutely correct. We soon learn that Lance was in fact abducted and a missing person report was filed however with how many people have gone missing from Oxford County with little to no updates, there's not a whole lot of hope about Lance. (Sorry, pal.)

One of the people missing from Oxford County is a woman by the name of Aria Davis, her case was by far one of the most popular because she is one of the longest lost people, having been missing for nearly a year. Levee came across an article about her disappearance and was quite panicked and that is when she stopped thinking logically about Lance not being outside. So, she did the smart thing and went to his house and spoke to his mother who told Levee the news.

She was obviously upset to the point she didn't tell Archie so he decided to go over there himself and then he got back, wondering why Levee didn't tell him. When he questioned her about it the two started to get into an argument so he left the room clearly pissed.

Now there's a bit of filler but since it's September, Archie is going back to school. Well on his first day of school that boy got kidnapped and Levee did not know until she herself got kidnapped. Fun times with the Bailey family, am I right?

So, on this day, Levee goes to her job which is at the end of her street and it's roughly a ten minute walk (or in her case, a five minute run.) She feels like she is being watched the entire time but gets to her workplace and the day goes on until she has to go back home.

Levee dashes back home as the sun is setting and while thinking Archie is home from school, she knocks on the door as he usually unlocks it for her but this does not happen so she tries calling him and he doesn't answer, she assumes that he's still mad at her from the previous day so she grabs her house key but quickly realizes that it is not inside of her satchel bag (which previously belonged to Koda, fun bit of lore) so she gets a bit panicked as that feeling of being watched is not going away any time soon.

So, she runs over to the Hawks' house and rings the doorbell because she thought someone would be home but nobody answers and this causes her even more distress as she is alone outside in the dark. Levee then proceeds to out of reflex try and call Lance who obviously does not answer and then after this she calls her mother who tells her to go back to her workplace and wait there because her mom would be out of work shortly.

And this is where Levee's fate is set.

She makes a run for it back to her workplace but since it is very dark out, she doesn't quite know where she's going and the streetlights are dimmed. Then she notices a truck going down the street and she could have sworn it was following her. This completely screws up her course and she ends up going the wrong direction and running face first into a telephone pole which breaks her nose.

Levee is pretty much stunned for a moment and sitting on the ground to try and recover and she comes to the realization she ran in the wrong direction so she pulls out her phone and tries to go onto Google Maps but has no mobile data or anything.

She sits there trying to regain her energy and strength to get up off the sidewalk and she eventually does when she hears heavy footsteps coming from behind her. So, once again she starts running and then it turns out she's being shot at by whoever was chasing her.

Levee can only dodge the darts for so long before one lands in her neck and stuns her, within a few moments exhaustion overcomes her and she passes out with one last thought in her head, "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

---

Levee wakes up on a bed inside of a hospital-like room and it brings back memories of being with Koda when he died. She can't quite recall how she got in this place but is aware of an odd sensation on her arm, specifically the crook of her elbow which has gauze taped to it (implying that she had been poked with a needle of some sort.) For some reason, there is a very small feeling of joy that she can't quite focus on but it keeps her calmed for the most part.

She realizes there is a somewhat dull pain all throughout her head and neck but again, she can't recall what had happened. Despite her recognizing the room she's in as some kind of hospital one, she knows for certain she is not in a real hospital.

There is a description of the room which I will share a little of; the upper halves of the walls are a sandy-gray color whereas the lower halves are made of black and bright-yellow stripes and at the very bottom there is short white trimming lining the walls. The floor is made of light-gray tiles.

There's a table in this room and on top of it is a key card lanyard so once she gets herself off of the bed, she stumbles over to there and takes it. There is a name written on it alongside numbers and she doesn't quite understand what they mean. Next to the lanyard there is a note which tells her how to use it and that only her key card and her roommate's key card will work on the singular room door however the cards work on all other doors within the "Sanctuary." It also explains that she is a "employee," for this place and that she's currently on the third floor and needs to make her way up the fourth floor in order to change into uniform.

Levee looks over at the other side of the room and notices her roommate who is fast asleep, the table on their side contains the same items as Levee's.

Using the key card, she leaves the room and makes her way through a hallway with many different doors that need to be unlocked some of which are other rooms.

She makes her way to the fourth floor, changes uniform, notices there are spots of yellow in her irises (which are normally brown), then proceeds to leave the employee only floors (third and fourth) and skedaddles to the second floor which has a locked staircase as nearly all the doors in this building require a key card.

I will not be going into much detail about the second floor however, it is a living area for patients and has some bookcases that have books and brochures.

The low, somewhat raspy voice of someone catches her attention as they ask her who she is, she introduces herself and they introduce themselves. This is where Braylen is introduced, he is a patient in the Sanctuary and is implied to be a trans guy (this is canon it's just never outright said within the story.) There is no yellow present in his eyes which shows that he hasn't had any treatment yet. Levee states her confusion which causes her to giggle and it makes Braylen uneasy but he tells her the information that he knows about the place.

Braylen states that the place was in fact a real hospital back in the 2000s owned by a man called Doctor Thomas Lukes however the doctor calls it a "Sanctuary."

Levee thanks him for the information and then proceeds to continue her exploration throughout the Sanctuary. She finds the cafeteria on the first floor and there are a couple people sitting at tables some of which are employees. Then a voice calls out to her.

It's Lance, who is sitting at a table in the back of the cafeteria. The two are both in shock at seeing each other and Lance had scratches on his face which would have concerned Levee if it wasn't for her emotions being messed up. She greets him in a cheery manner and sits down by him.

They have a discussion and Lance, being the theme park enthusiast that he is, compares the place to the Alton Towers Smiler roller coaster lore. He actually goes on to explain the similarities and brings up the fact that there had been previous rumors of the Smiler being based off of real events or that the backstory was real.

Levee is completely weirded out and quite frankly thinks he's being stupid, she tells him he's not making much sense and then comes to the conclusion that he was trying to make light of the dark situation. They continue speaking some more and eventually Levee tells Lance to stop talking about the Smiler.

Levee then remembers her brother, Archie, and begins to worry about him to which Lance slowly states to her that he thinks Archie is in the Sanctuary too.

Levee does not take this too kindly but her rage is dulled however she still shouts at Lance asking what he means to which he then stupidly asks why she's panicking and she states that she's not but doesn't know what she's feeling.

Lance asks her a question.

"Does it feel like your emotions are just barely there and for some reason you're happy?”

Levee says yes with no hesitation as that is exactly how she was feeling. Lance is feeling this way too.

They continue talking and then Levee brings Lance up to the second floor to speak to Braylen who is sitting on a sofa reading a book that had no title and instead had a smiley face in the form of "=)" on the cover. Braylen then reveals that the book is fifteen pages long (albeit not numbered) and every single page consists of that same smiley face from top to bottom. It's not very important but goes to show this place is odd.

All three are weirded out but put the book aside. Lance and Levee ask Braylen if he has seen or knows anything about Archie. He states that Archie's appearance sounds familiar and that he saw employees (or at least, ones that looked very different and had metal armor) drag him to padded cells on the first floor.

Braylen also states it was nighttime and he wasn't supposed to be out of his room but decided to snoop around anyway and witnessed the scene.

They thank Braylen for his help and proceed to go back to the first floor and find the cells he was talking about. There are twenty in total and the two find Archie inside the fifteenth one that they investigate.

When Levee sees her brother inside the cell, she is quick to unlock it and go inside. Archie is sitting on the floor with red pinprick marks and bruising on his neck and alongside this his hands are wrapped in bandages that have light spots of blood that had seeped through.

The two siblings hug and Levee apologizes for Archie getting into this situation. Much like Levee and Lance, Archie can't remember how he was kidnapped. They exit the cell and speak with each other to which Archie explains a story very similar to the one Braylen shared.

Archie had woken up in his room and instantly panicked, leaving it and stumbling into two people who are later revealed to be apart of a subgroup in the Sanctuary called "The Ones Beyond the Walls." He explains that they saw him and grabbed onto him to which he tried to fight back and in the process destroyed his knuckles on the metal vests they were wearing before he was sedated and brought to a cell.

Levee takes note of his hands and suggests that they change the bandages. Lance knows where there's an infirmary and brings them to it and there is a somewhat gruesome description of Archie's knuckles. Lance cleans the wounds and wraps them in fresh bandages.

They all leave the infirmary and make their way to the cafeteria and discuss the situation for the umpteenth time. In the middle of their discussion, a young woman walks up and stands behind Archie. She introduces herself as Isa. Levee and Archie take note of one of her most unsettling features which is the fact that she has scars starting from the corners of her mouth going along the sides of her face.

(Lance had already met Isa so it wasn't as shocking to him.)

Isa states that she overheard the group of three's conversation and that she had information she could give that might help answer some questions.

...

But unfortunately, this is where I stopped writing.

Don't worry though! Like I said, I am going to talk about general lore and what I had planned including the ending.

---

So, Doctor Lukes' Sanctuary is the name of the hospital our main characters are held captive in. Despite what Levee kept thinking (it not being a real hospital) she is pretty much wrong because it was and technically still is a "real" hospital however it is not at all a professional one. Originally opening in 1999, this psychiatric hospital was operated by Professor Jasper Edmunds and Doctor Thomas Lukes, their hospital was open until 2011 where it closed permanently with no explanation.

Throughout the 2000s, this hospital was controversial and facing lawsuits in regards to abuse of its patients in there for treatment of their mental illnesses. However, they were dropped. This mostly took place in 2005. Professor Edmunds left shortly after this which meant Doctor Lukes was on his own with maintaining most things. In 2009, the hospital would once again face legality issues in regards to two murders that had happened. And finally, in 2011, the hospital was closed and nobody ever heard from Doctor Lukes again.

This is the more detailed form of the information Isa was going to tell the three if I had written past her introduction, I promise it wasn't gonna be a big info dump within the story lol, it was gonna be more spread out. Also, the Sanctuary info is similar to what Braylen had said. Isa was also going to go into a quick explanation on joy serum and laughing gas used in that place which answers the question on why everyone tends to be calm and strangely happy. (Obviously.)

Throughout the story, Levee and Lance try to uncover the secrets of the Sanctuary and they attempt to make an escape plan while pretty much being under the influence of drugs (joy serum) and doing their "job," of treating the patients. They discover that there had been a reversal serum in the works that would, well, reverse the effects of joy serum however there were many major issues with it. It's used within this story and the effects are shown; primarily aggression.

Who was the original one behind the reversal serum? Professor Edmunds, and then Doctor Lukes proceeded to try and complete it but was facing difficulties. And why was there a reversal serum? Because of withdrawal from not having injections of joy serum for a long period of time, it'd only get worse and worse so this was put in place to completely flush out the joy serum in a way. (Side note: Drug withdrawal is a major issue with the joy serum in this universe and it's especially shown with Isa who is constantly relying on even the smallest dose.) However, as said before, the reversal serum had serious issues with it.

So, what was Doctor Lukes' motive in taking a bunch of hostages ("patients/employees")?

Well, it changes in the timeline.

After the hospital had been shut down and with all of the legality issues, the place pretty much became abandoned and not only that but he lost a majority of his research and everything. He's stubborn and did not try and reach out to another facility or anything like that (they're extremely secretive too) so he took his remaining notes and studies, tried making a new joy serum, kidnapped some people that would later be known as "The Ones Beyond the Walls," and tested on them. Continuously tested on them. And then finally, later on, he wanted to try and reverse things and then give the joy serum again and reverse and... yeah.

Where was he working?

Underground beneath the original hospital. And this is where the main story takes place too. I find the Five Nights at Freddy's song "Below the Surface" quite fitting for this and the original Smiler lore in general (I remember seeing a Smile Always edit with it too so that's where I got that from!) And if you're wondering, "How did no one know he was there?" Well, the general public didn't know. With a lot of abandoned properties, there are still people that own the property and that's the case with Doctor Lukes' Sanctuary. The state people knew allat but not the public, you know? As I said before, these places are secretive.

---

The Ones Beyond the Walls are as the name states: special guard-like previous test subjects that lurk in a part of the Sanctuary that is inaccessible to the normal patients and employees but is very much behind the walls of the normal place. They do what Doctor Lukes tells them to and they lurk about at night. They make sure things are in place and such. They are very calm people that take action when needed.

---

Isa is a major part of the lore. It's revealed that she was the longest serving Sanctuary employee starting from being a patient and it's also revealed that she was Aria Davis from the news article Levee had read early on in the story. Aria was not in a good place and Doctor Lukes had reached out to her and offered her money (one of the only times he was somewhat-legally doing this shit) if she'd participate in his experiments/clinical trials and after a while she then got sick of it to which he then forcibly kidnapped her.

As a patient, Aria had gotten her face cut into a smile by an old employee who she later murdered as revenge and stole their identity (hence the name, Isa.) Due to the murder, she was put through a lot of "treatment," until she was left as who she is; an unhinged, overjoyed, snarky woman who seemed as though she was going to help but was instead absolutely hellbent on dragging everyone down with her as she interfered with Levee's and Lance's escape plan. And, she kept the identity of the murdered employee, Isa.

---

There was certainly gonna be filler but also it was gonna show patients and employees getting treatment with joy serum and then the reversal serum being used. Because of the aggression the reversal serum was causing (albeit temporary) the group decided it was best to give it to people and keep them in the "special" cells that had been mentioned earlier.

Eventually, Isa gets the reversal serum injected into her and since she has been under the influence of joy serum for a long time, it doesn't go too well and she is furious and tries to kill Lance who had injected it. She fails and once she somewhat calms down, she struggles to cope with the feeling of not being in a constant state of joy. She experiences withdrawal extremely quickly and this is one of the faults of the reversal serum however it shouldn't have lasted too long.

Isa still tries to interfere with the plan and eventually she kills Doctor Lukes which wasn't apart of the other two's plan but aids in the escape and when she realizes this, she isn't happy. She isn't happy that the newest group won't go through the Hell she went through and thus she attempts to murder the main group but instead gets it turned around on her and Lance kills her which leaves him guilt stricken but Levee tries to reassure him that it was for the best.

‐--

Finally, we get to the ending. The ending is a decent one and although a majority of the facility inhabitants are killed along the way (by Isa and eventually she herself was killed too), nine out of thirty people (patients and employees) escape and this doesn't include TOBW. Levee, Lance, Braylen, and Archie make it out safely albeit very much changed and still having the after effects of the reversal serum. I did in fact write out the epilogue before most of the other things because that is a habit of mine with writing.

So, the epilogue goes something like this...

Two months pass since the events of Smile Hell and our three main characters are trying to return to their normal lives. Braylen, who was cut off by his family before the events, moves in with Lance's family since he has nowhere else to go. Levee's paranoia is very slowly starting to go away and she starts leaving her house more often. It is stated that after escaping, the group had told all they could to the police and it opened a full blown investigation on the grounds of the Sanctuary and they ended up finding bodies buried far behind the hospital.

And yes, the main group gets well needed therapy after all this Hell they've been through lol

Levee, Lance, and Braylen are all out shopping in the town square before they visit Koda's grave which is their plan for the day. Levee sits down on a bench and waits for the men who are inside a store and there is another bench across from her. Someone sits down on it and they're wearing a mask and sunglasses (which she finds odd as it's not very sunny) but she tries not to think much of it before going onto her phone to pass the time.

The stranger across from her giggles which catches her attention and so she glances up and notices their sunglasses are off. Her heart just about skips a beat when she realizes that they have one yellow eye that was fading and one normal eye (implication that this is someone from the Sanctuary.) This obviously makes her highly uneasy and she prays to whoever is listening that her friends would hurry up so they could leave.

Eventually they appear and they don't pay much attention to the person across from her, they all leave but Levee looks behind her to see that the mysterious stranger now had their mask down and was smiling, but not in the unsettling, forced Smiler sense; it was a sincere smile that pretty much said "Thank you." Not only that, but they had very faded scars present on their face. Levee does not recognize them at all before she realized the possibility of them being one of the Ones Beyond the Walls. She gives them a quick thumbs up and a nod before walking off with Lance and Braylen, off to visit Koda's grave at the cemetery.

And that's all, that is the end of it all.

---

Thank you so much if you read this whole thing! I very much appreciate it, I've been working on this lore for roughly two years but never really shared it with people until now.

If I ever do go back to this project and decide to continue the story I think there would be changes but for now this is the "settled in stone," lore of Smile Hell. I don't really know what my inspirations were for this exactly but obviously the general Smiler lore and what the community has come up with. Also I love stories that involve secret organizations and medical stuff like that. There are certainly things that I find unfitting but for my sake and everyone else's sake, I'm not going to critique my own lore for now.

Once again, thank you very much if you read this entire post, I hope it was interesting!!

—

and here's a meme before I go which sums up all of this /j

#the smiler #smiler #ministry of joy #the ministry of joy #alton towers #olive's ocs #olive's stories #smile hell #info dump #writing #but it's more just a summary #and a super fucking long post sob

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fang-and-feather · 5 months

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Ikemen Vampire OC Profile: Amy

Making introduction posts for our my OCs. I chose to start with Amy, since she's my most written. (there may be some future addition to this as I learn more of who my character is in this fandom)

Basic Description: Golden-brown, slight wavy hair, slight bellow her shoulders, often fashioned into a braid to get it out of the way). Blue eyes. Sun-tanned skin from spending too much time outdoors. Athletic build.

Name: Karin Amelia "Amy" Auren

Age: 22

Date of Birth: 20/06/1996

Ethnicity: Mixed Japanese/American

Hobbies/Interests: Reading, music, cooking, running and has a past story in school's fencing competitions, in her original time video-games, roller skating

Dislikes: Being lied to, being underestimated, having to stay still, being in a leadership position (with some exceptions when she needs to), seeing people fight (especially people close to her), loud noises, carrots and beetroot

Phobias/Fears: Abandonment and loss, feeling trapped, big fires

Weakness: Despite being a master in the kitchen, she is bad with other detail oriented tasks, light touches, short movements, small components

Habits/Quirks: Sometimes walks and read at the same time (loves to read but is very anxious to sit for long), can sing herself into a trance-like state while working or to control herself in situations that may cause panic; in her time she usually went around town in roller skaters (she has a especial hate of closed vehicles so its either the skaters, a bike or motorcycle), try not to but she tends to fidget with things or ramble when nervous

Skills/Talents: Won some school competitions in fencing and gymnastics as a child, running; music (singing and playing the violin); cooking, general survival knowledge, know various languages (is more fluent in English, Spanish and Japanese as family’s languages, Arabic she learned from her godfather andFrench from school but know a little of various others); she is agile, flexible and fast, sharp minded, also very observant

Family relationships with other OCs: Hikari (older sister), Kisara (older twin), Hana (youngest sister), also treats her friends as siblings

Curiosities: She is nearsighted, but few people know because she wears contacts, since glasses make activity difficult (and she doesn't like how she looks with them. In her time sometimes she read fanfiction

Personality:

Amy is very friendly and seems very extroverted (although she is more of an ambivert), loves surrounding herself with friends hate to be left alone most of the time, especially for meals, but sometimes she needs that lone time.

She is very protective of her loved ones and children.

She comes off as strong and fearless, always calm and cool, capable of nearly anything, but that's the person she wants people to see.

Although she can fight she is more of a pacifist and would rather solve a conflict in another way, and she can be quite persuasive, coming off even as a bit manipulative.

Very curious, she loves learning new things but do so in pieces because her attention span is quite short.

She is loyal to a fault and grown too dependent on people. Also helpful and hardworking to a fault, she often try to do too much and push herself too hard.

She is honest and doesn't lie outright, that doesn't mean sometimes her words aren't carefully chosen, even to a misleading point.

Although she looks very casual, she puts great care in her appearence.

Many people find her difficult to understand, because she usually only shows a piece of herself needed at a time, like an actress interpreting a character, but these masks are always a part of her

#ikevamp #oc profile #oc: amy #ikemen vampire

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tiredspacedragon · 10 months

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Helryx for the ask game

First Impression: So, for the longest time, I really did not care about much of the story material outside of the main plot. Partly because I had no way to access the extra content, and partly because that's just how I am. I like side characters well enough, but our main Toa teams are still my faves, for the most part. I still haven't read the serials, despite knowing everything that happens in them (I will read them though...someday). So, my relationship with Helryx was kinda like that. I remember thinking it was cool that we knew who the first Toa was, and that it was also cool that it was a Toa of Water. I thought it made sense and seemed appropriate. I also remember thinking her mace/shield combo was interesting, especially for a Toa of Water, really got the point across that Helryx meant business, as if her name starting with "hell" didn't establish that already. But that was it. I did not think much about her beyond that point, there were main story events that held my attention more. So I thought she was cool, but she was as mysterious and background-y to me as she was to most of the main characters in-universe.

Impression Now: Helryx is a badass and I could honestly stop there if I wanted to. Nowadays I find Helryx fascinating, not as much as I know some other people do, but still a fair amount. I'm certainly more curious about her now than I used to be. She's a well of potential stories in terms of both her past and her future. Her history spans the entire history of the Matoran Universe, and we know from her description that she is not one to sit idle; she has been active on the front lines of secret wars for her entire life. The things she must have seen. What was she like as a rookie Toa? What shaped her into the grizzled veteran we see today? And what will she do now that her mission has technically been fulfilled? I can't exactly see her retiring, at least not willingly. She's also a favourite of my mother's, so that earns her some bonus points. She was actually the one to point out how few non-evil female authority figures there are in Bionicle as a whole, which is a big part of why Helryx appeals to her, something I hadn't really noticed before that point.

Favourite Moment: I haven't read most of Helryx's moments, so my answer may change eventually, but for now it is definitely her entrance when she confronts the Dark Hunters on Xia, i.e. that moment when she summons a several-hundred-foot tsunami in front of the Dark Hunter fleet and just leaves it hanging in the air with no visible effort. And then jukes them out with it just to make a point. It's probably the best example we have of exactly how powerful a Toa is capable of becoming. No one else has the experience Helryx does in using their powers, but in theory any Toa could pull off something like that with enough training. Just goes to show how much the villains underestimate them. And as for Helryx herself, well, she'd have made the Shadowed One shit his pants if he'd been wearing any, and that earns her serious cool points.

Idea for a story: Like I said, Helryx will almost certainly never retire willingly. So eventually someone will probably have to make her do it. Her armour is pitted and scarred, her body is frail, and while I don't doubt that she could keep going for a long time, I think she may be nearing the point that it would be unhealthy for her to do so. I do like the idea that the Toa Nuva may not be able to become Turaga, but I'm definitely of the opinion that Helryx can, and that she eventually will, likely after suffering a potentially debilitating injury, either at the urging of her closest Order members or because Artakha or some similarly powerful entity artificially jumpstarts the process to save her life. Either way, she would not be happy about it. Actually, it would be cool if this was treated like some regenerations have been handled in Doctor Who. Everything I mentioned before still happens: Helryx takes a bad hit, and either someone else triggers the Turaga transformation process or it involuntarily begins, but Helryx resists it. She can't stop it now that it's started, but she can hold it off for a while. The rest of the story then is this ancient warrior coming to terms with the fact that her fight is over. Wrestling with her perception of herself and her vision for the future, and ultimately accepting that she has done more than enough in her current role, and that it's okay to move on, that it's a good time for a change. I can see this very poignant scene of Helryx letting go, probably on a beach or a seaside cliff because I'm unoriginal, and letting the transformation wash over her while a few other characters watch. Then the new Turaga Helryx would turn around, look at all her friends agents, and probably grumble something along the lines of "What are you all gawking at? We have work to do." Yeah, just because she wouldn't be on the battlefield anymore doesn't mean she wouldn't still be in charge. Her spine would still be made of steel, even if it was a little more bent than it used to be. Also her Badge of Office would absolutely just be a shrunken version of her mace, and she'd still have her shield, Lhikan style.

Unpopular Opinion: I actually like her "canon" appearance. I mean it's not perfect, I'd definitely make a few tweaks, but overall I think it's a pretty good look for her. I like the retro style, makes her look that much more like a prototype. I can see her and the other early Toa sporting that build before the Great Beings eventually perfected their design and transitioned to the more Glatorian-like Inika build.

Favourite Relationship: I am very fond of how Helryx's acts toward other Toa. Krakua specifically, but really in general. She's such a mom. She wants so badly to protect her younger Toa-brothers and sisters from the nightmares she has witnessed. She wants the best for them, keeping them out of the Order, even denying Krakua full membership at first because she wanted him separate from her dark, messy world. Believing strongly in the Toa Code and that Toa should strive to uphold it, to be these bright shining heroes in the sunlight, all the while excluding herself from it so she can take care of the dirty work that has to be done so her little siblings can have that. The things Helryx does aren't always good, even if they're done with good intentions, but she herself, I think, is so good. I'd love to see her interact with Orde, just to see if her attitude extends to all Toa who came after her, or if she'd recognize him as a contemporary and switch gears, going from commanding but ultimately caring, to just old work-friend banter mode. "Good work, Krakua. Go rest up, I'll have another assignment ready for you when you're back. And tell Johmak not to leave pieces of herself lying around if you see her." vs "Oh hey Orde. Piss off any other species lately?"

Favourite Headcanon: Kinda related to the above, I am firmly of the opinion that Helryx is hilarious. She's 100,000 years worth of razor sharp wit. Doesn't let it out often, of course, she has an organization to run. But when she wants to be, she can be absolutely hysterical. All while keeping a completely straight face, of course. G2 Gali would beg to learn her secrets.

#bionicle #helryx #order of mata nui #so uh #yeah #good character

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gaiaxygang · 6 months

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Blorbos From My Games: An Introduction

So you may have seen me talking about EnaMafu from Project Sekai. What the hell is an EnaMafu and why do they remind June Gaiaxygang of seemingly every PerthChimon pair in existence? Since my circle on Tumblr is majority Thai BL fans (unlike Twitter) this felt like a good time to make another Big EnaMafu Post wehehehhehe

Project Sekai: Colourful Stage

First off, what is Project Sekai (PRSK)? Project Sekai: Colourful Stage ft. Hatsune Miku is a Japanese mobile rhythm game launched in September 2020 featuring a cast of 20 original characters and of course, Hatsune Miku and her Vocaloid friends. It features rhythm gameplay (obviously) as well as 5 main stories, and ongoing event stories.

We're currently at 3 years of service, and the characters have been aged up by a year! Because I don't read (I HAVE A BAD ATTENTION SPAN) I'll only cover what is neccessary for Ena and Mafuyu, but their stories are heavily linked to every other cast member, especially their unit.

In PRSK, several music-loving teenagers notice an 'Untitled' music file on their devices. Clicking on it transports them to another world, 'SEKAI', where they meet Hatsune Miku. Miku encourages them to pursue their dreams and helps them overcome fears and soar as musicians.

25ji, Nightcord de.

One of 5 units in PRSK is 25ji, Nightcord de. (aka Nightcord at 25 or Niigo!). They're an online music circle who make songs anonymously, communicating via messaging service Nightcord at 25:00, or 1 AM from roughly 2 years before the start of the story.

This unit consists of songwriter Yoisaki Kanade, lyricist Asahina Mafuyu, artist Shinonome Ena, and MV maker Akiyama Mizuki. The 2 I will focus on are Mafuyu and Ena, though I'll be making references to the others (and occasionally characters outside of their unit).

Kanade has loved music since she was young. One day, she writes a song for her father that wins a competition. This causes her father to later overwork himself, unable to live up to Kanade's composition, falling into a coma.

Kanade, blaming herself for this, sets out to write a 'song that can save people'. She posts music online under the alias K, where she eventually meets honour student Mafuyu, going by Yuki. Touched by Kanade's songs, Mafuyu wants to write lyrics alongside her. Soon, they are joined by aspiring artist Ena and social outcast Mizuki.

The 4 of them continue unit activities as usual, Mafuyu offline, until one day a file named 'Untitled' appears on Kanade's computer, together with a white-haired Hatsune Miku that urges her to 'find that girl, before it's too late'. Clicking on 'Untitled', the 3 are transported into an empty 'SEKAI', where the 4 meet for the first time.

Asahina Mafuyu

Asahina Mafuyu is the lyricist of Niigo, who goes by K online. Although she has a friendly exterior, she has long lost sight of herself under the weight of others' expectations.

Throughout her life, Mafuyu has always been pressured to be a perfect 'good kid' by her parents, especially her controlling mother who wants her to be a doctor rather than a nurse, which Mafuyu wanted to be when she was young. Mafuyu strives to meet these expectations, getting perfect grades and even becoming the class president in her second year of high school, and regularly participating in the archery club.

At some point, Mafuyu started to realise that her true 'self' had been lost. For years, she had changed herself over and over to fit into the 'good kid' mold to meet expectations of everyone around her. Unable to feel anything or have preferences of her own, she started wanting to disappear.

Upon hearing Kanade's song, she felt something stirring in her chest. This prompted her to reach out to K, eventually forming a music circle with her. She also writes her own songs under the pseudonym OWN, publishing them and gaining enough views to match Niigo's numbers on her own.

Mafuyu despises her natural talent. It has never been something she has wanted, and has always caused her pain as it led to people expecting more of her over time. She searches for something, anything that will save her to no avail, and her feelings manifest in the form of the Empty SEKAI, a world with nothing.

Shinonome Ena

Shinonome Ena is the artist of Niigo, drawing their thumbnail and MV art. The daughter of a renowned artist, Ena has strived to create art loved by many, often to little success.

Ever since young, Ena has loved art. She looks up to her father, Shinei, a well-known artist. She attended an art class and intended to apply to a high school with a specialised art course.

However, once Ena confides in Shinei about wanting to pursue art as more than a hobby, she is quickly shot down. Shinei tells her that she has no talent and cannot succeed in the world of art. The next day, when she attends her art class, her teacher Yukihira tells her that she won't be able to make it as an artist because she draws for attention from others rather than a love for art. This leads Ena to believe her art is worthless, but at the same time strengthens her resolve to draw and prove everyone wrong.

Ena was touched by Kanade's song. After hearing it, she drew illustrations based off the music. This prompted Mizuki to use her artworks for a fanmade music video of the song, causing Kanade and Mafuyu to reach out to them, officially forming Niigo.

Ena craves acknowledgement and respect. She has always felt inferior to others around her, especially those that she considered 'talented'. These feelings cause her to start to want to disappear, similar to Mafuyu. She wants to try hard, yet her efforts rarely bear fruit and she starts to wonder if it's worth trying at all. To fill the void in her heart, she posts selfies on social media, only to be disappointed when her personal account gets more interaction than her art account.

The Story: EnaMafu Cut

In main story, after finding out about Mafuyu's emptiness, her want to disappear and her activities as OWN, Ena is furious. She doesn't understand why someone like Mafuyu, with talent and recognition would be suffering, as those are things Ena has desired for a very, very long time. She is taken aback when Mafuyu points that Ena, too, wants to disappear and hates that of all people, it's Mafuyu that understands her pain.

Later in main story, Ena yells at Mafuyu, making her true feelings known. Deep down, she loves Mafuyu's music, her lyrics and screams and Mafuyu to not disappear because she has to keep creating on this earth, suffering with everyone who doesn't have the talent she does. Although this is honestly something you should never tell someone on the verge of suicide, it's something Mafuyu needs. Ena's bluntness, together with Kanade's promise to save Mafuyu, is enough to convince her to return to the real world and continue making songs with Niigo.

In the next event story, Imprisoned Marionette, we find out more about Mafuyu's relationship with her mom. Mafuyu's mom (I will call her ASHN Mama because she is unnamed) is controlling as well as verbally abusive, wanting Mafuyu to be nothing short of what she envisions. This makes Mafuyu feel like a puppet in a cage, dancing in her mother's palm. This is where, in my opinion, Ena starts to understand Mafuyu more. She sees for herself why Mafuyu is the way she is, even if she doesn't know what to do with these feelings in her heart, she wants to try to help.

The next event story is Ena's. In Unsatisfied Pale Colour, Ena enters an art contest against Shinei's suggestion. She wants to win it and prove Shinei wrong, but ends up proving him right in a way when she fails to win a single award. This, together with comments that suggest viewers of Niigo songs don't care about Ena's art on its own, lead Ena to start to consider giving up on art entirely.

Ena enters the SEKAI, starting to understand why Mafuyu came to it when she wanted to disappear. It's comfortable and silent, with nothing to disturb her or remind her of things that hurt. When she is found by Niigo, she confesses that she doesn't want to give up on art, but sees no reason to continue because her efforts will never amount to anything.

When Kanade and Mizuki reassure Ena of the importance of her art to Niigo, the blunt Mafuyu tells her something else. She tells Ena that in her eyes, she doesn't have a reason to give up on art. If she wants to be acknowledged by the public and by Shinei, she has no reason to stop drawing now. Niigo has to continue making songs as a unit anyways, so what's the point in quitting?

This. This is such a big moment to me. Although Ena needs reassurance, sometimes it isn't quite enough. And just like how Ena's blunt words got through to Mafuyu in main story, Mafuyu's honest thoughts get to Ena, too. Niigo give Ena support that she's never truly received, causing Ena to become more open about her feelings and concern for others, which is crucial in later parts of the story.

(dangerous romance folks. this is why i say ep 3 is the pale colour of drts. so much of it parallels kanghan's own arc and revelations in the end of ep 3)

As the story continues, EnaMafu takes a backseat. As Mafuyu discovers more about herself, her trauma and starts to feel something like warmth again because of Kanade in Mirage of Lights, Ena is also becoming kinder and softening up to her unitmates. She shows concern for Mizuki, who she notices is distancing herself from Niigo. This is shown best in My Footsteps, Your Destination, where Ena tells Mizuki she'll keep waiting for Mizuki to confide in her. (happy 2 irl years since, btw. no progress has been made!)

Niigo is slowly realising that ASHN Mama is the cause of most of Mafuyu's pain. This becomes more apparent as Mafuyu skips mock exams to spend time with Niigo and her grades in class start dropping, resulting in ASHN Mama trying to isolate Mafuyu further.. After discovering traces of Niigo on Mafuyu's laptop, ASHN Mama suspects there is a music-loving classmate encouraging Mafuyu to do music, distracting her from her studies.

Niigo is, of course, trying their best to support Mafuyu throughout this. It is Ena who takes the first step, in a way, on a rainy day after her art class.

The Big EnaMafu Event

Sorry. Header not necessary but it is my favourite PRSK event of ALL TIME. I was top 3000 I can prove this. Someday, This Wish Will Transcend The Morning Sky is an event that focuses on Ena and Mafuyu. The event title even references Mafuyu's surname (asa, meaning morning in this context)!

In this event, Ena is heading home from her art class (which she has since started attending again, despite quitting after what Yukihira said to her in middle school) when she runs into Mafuyu. It's starting to rain, yet Mafuyu is making no move to get out of the rain. Mafuyu is internally contemplating whether she should go back home immediately or stay outside longer, knowing that there's something about her home that makes her feel uncomfortable.

Ena, noticing this, invites Mafuyu to the Shinonome household. Shinei is currently out on a work trip, so it's only SNNM Mama (again, unnamed) and her younger brother Akito (from another unit, Vivid Bad Squad) at home.

Once they're in Ena's room, they call ASHN Mama, requesting for Mafuyu to stay over. ASHN Mama doesn't know Ena is one of Mafuyu's music friends, of course, but she doesn't want anything distracting Mafuyu from her studies. In response, Ena does the one thing she despises. She uses her father's name, saying that she is the daughter of artist Shinonome Shinei, who wants to draw Mafuyu for a project while Mafuyu helps her study. This works, and although Ena doesn't like it, she's glad Mafuyu is safe.

At dinner, Mafuyu starts to notice something different about the Shinonomes.

The Shinonomes aren't a perfect family, even without Shinei present. The siblings bicker, and SNNM Mama, while loving, sometimes fails to understand Ena (she is implied to have absolutely no idea about Shinei and Ena's fight but that's another topic). But it's warm. Mafuyu can feel the warmth of their family, despite their flaws, so different from her own. Asahina family dinners were always cold, despite them seeming like a perfect, quiet family on the surface.

Ena is the only one that can make Mafuyu realise this. Kanade lives alone as her mother passed when she was young, and her father is in a coma. Mizuki's parents and older sister work overseas, so Mizuki also lives alone. Ena is the only one who is able to show Mafuyu what a warm, somewhat normal family is like.

After dinner, the 2 return to Ena's room. Ena and Mafuyu have a heart-to-heart about what Mafuyu's feelings towards her mother. When Mafuyu expresses how she's afraid of letting down her mother, Ena starts to understand. Ena herself had similar feelings about Shinei, but while Mafuyu has suppressed her true self out of fear, Ena rebels and strives to continue doing what she loves.

This conversation also gets Ena to reflect on her own relationship with Shinei, realising that although their relationship is pretty much unsalvagable, she respects him as an artist and acknowledges that he didn't have bad intentions. Akito had previously talked to Shinei and told Ena that Shinei just didn't want to see Ena fail like several of his artist friends. Ena doesn't forgive him for this, continuing to avoid him as best as she can despite coming to an understanding.

Later at 1 AM, the two log on to Nightcord for their Niigo meeting. As Mafuyu starts to work on lyrics, Ena notices how focused she is. Although Mafuyu claims to have no dreams or aspirations of her own, her expression while she writes tells Ena something else. Seeing this, Ena gains inspiration for her art project and starts to draw.

Silently, Ena prays. Seeing how Mafuyu is like doing what she loves, Ena wishes that someday, Mafuyu will break out of her shell. That one day, Mafuyu will be free of her mother's chains, doing what she loves, no longer suppressing herself to make others happy.

This... this is an incredible event. It reflects EnaMafu's development, especially Ena's. From not being able to understand eachother (something that Marionette's event song, Jackpot Sad Girl highlights) to empathy and concern and even love (of the platonic type! or romantic idk up to you). It highlights why Ena and Mafuyu are important in eachother's lives, and how they have a role no one else can fill.

And that's pretty much all the major EnaMafu stories! Since then, Mafuyu has gotten closer and closer to finally escaping her mother. Some key events are Immiscible Discord, where Kanade reveals herself as Mafuyu's music friend and swears to ASHN Mama that she will never leave Mafuyu's side after realising there is nothing like love in her heart for Mafuyu. Another one is Our Escape for Survival, where Mizuki tells Mafuyu that sometimes, running away from your problems is okay as long as you face them someday.

(i... i really like mafuyu's card in this event. 1. RAIN MOTIF! not posting mizuki's but she's giving mafuyu an umbrella and getting drenched herself in it!!!!!! 2. holy hell that hairstyle and the piercings. i need it to come home during the rerun or i WILL die)

This all culminates in Niigo's final event before 3rd Anniversary, Saying Goodbye to My Persona. Here, Mafuyu finally cuts the strings binding her and admits her true feelings to her mother.

ASHN Mama, of course, rejects this. She is unable to comprehend that Mafuyu has been suffering all this time. She throws Mafuyu's phone into the fish tank and in response, Mafuyu runs out into the rain (!). Niigo search for her, and eventually it is Kanade who finds her. They hug, sharing in eachother's warmth in spite of the cold rain.

And that's where we're at with Niigo! Their next event is in like under a week so we WILL find out where their story goes soon... Ena and Mafuyu are now 3rd years, and Mafuyu is living with Kanade!

Why Ship EnaMafu?

I have been an EnaMafu fanatic since Pale Colour (my PRSK account proves it but I do not currently have screenshots...). They're opposites, yet they complement eachother so well. They're able to relate because they've both been mistreated by their parents, yet unable to comprehend because they reacted so differently to it. Mafuyu hiding away parts of herself and Ena becoming bolder, trying to rebel even if it hurts her.

They're able to see through eachother, and their bluntness (Ena due to her personality, and Mafuyu because she is unable to understand why her words might hurt) is something so unique to Ena And Mafuyu. They've become key parts of eachothers' lives, despite their initial conflict. Although Mafuyu has difficulty showing it (writing issues lol) Ena like all members of Niigo is someone she cares deeply about. And Ena, who has always been stubbornly supporting Niigo, slowly starts to open her heart up to someone she used to hate.

They also have 3 cover songs that highlight their similarities. Hello/How are you, about a lonely girl who just wants her voice to be heard (this is the one i think is kanghansailom). Hurting for a very hurtful pain, a song about, well... pain (i am not a vocaloid expert sorry). And my personal favourite, Love me love me love me which can be interpreted in a number of ways but is mainly about a girl crying out, desperate to be loved.

All of this drives me Up The Wall. I love their dynamic and development over the 3 years I've known them. I may be biased (I own like $100 SGD of Ena merch) but I really, really love EnaMafu!!!

So Why Does This Remind Me Of BL?

(this one is mainly for my bl mutuals you can skip this if you want)

The obvious answer is that I am unwell and like making my interests about eachother.

A slightly more serious answer would be that many have compared EnaMafu's dynamic and tropes to yaoi. Contrary to popular belief I do not read or watch yaoi so I cannot confirm this. But it sounds about right!

The actual answer is that it's because some BL characters have arcs that are similar to this. As I have pointed out many many times, Ena reminds me a LOT of Kanghan (Dangerous Romance). From the dad problems to how they've changed because of Mafuyu and Sailom (on Ena's side it's a group effort! But come on).

They're also very ChopperBen to me in quite a few ways. The obvious one being the parental problems (let's be real here.) but also how to me, ChopperBen have a certain level of... Misunderstanding... between them. They've led different lives and been through different things and have different personalities which is why the Bathroom Fight happens!!! Of course there are more feelings below it but it goes down to their fundamental differences in the end. Which is pretty much early EnaMafu.

(also because i erm. the enamafu fic i wrote from ena's pov is a scrapped ben pov chopperben fic? certain elements of it, not the whole thing lol. i was thinking about how ben likes to play off his very serious wants as jokes and how he can barely speak his honest thoughts, then i went, Wait A Minute. and wrote 500 words. you can read it here)

This is pretty much why my PerthChimon wishlist looks something like,

miserable teenagers (this one is likely knowing GMMTV)

unable to understand eachother for some reason (and its not funny)

burdened by natural talent and fears being untalented (self explanatory)

THANK YOU for reading my absurdly long post. I adore PRSK and EnaMafu and they've been my personality for 3 years and counting (PerthChimon gives them competition). You can listen to Someday, This Wish's event song I Nandesu here!

(and of course thank you @naomi-obsessions for reading and supporting my very unhinged enamafu posting <3_<3)

#gaiaxyposting #prsk #enamafu #mafuena #thats all im tagging have fun everyon(#gaiaxymeta

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ambassadorarlert · 2 years

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today is my birthday, and to celebrate i'm paying homage to aot characters and their big 3 zodiac signs. a few things though: a. the website i used doesn't allow for triple digit years, so i assigned a birth year based on their age of the completed manga, plus a year since the manga officially ended, plus whether they have had a birthday already or not, and worked around that. i also use 12:00PM as a time, and Oita, Japan as a birthplace b. we'd be here forever if i laid out everyone's birthchart, so i'm only doing sun/moon/rising. your sun sign represents your ego and motives, your moon sign represents how you handle your emotions, and your rising represents how present yourself. c. let's pretend certain ppl are alive and well ok this post is supposed to be happy :")

let's begin...

Eren Yeager - March 30th, 1999 Sun in Aries: very energetic and high-spirited. fiercely independent, must be first in everything, and enjoys taking risks. brilliant at initiating new projects, but terrible at following them to completion. an enthusiastic leader but tends to be a reluctant follower. often quick to anger, but you usually recovers just as fast, and regrets things that were said later. simple and direct, blunt and honest -- must be careful not to hurt others' feelings. the need to be competitive at all costs may provoke resistance from others, but, as long the sunny good humor is kept, this should not prove to be a major problem. Moon in Gemini: restless in the extreme, easily bored because of a short attention span. emotions change rapidly and loves to talk about feelings. generally has good judgment. the intellect controls emotions and does not overreact emotionally to things. a good jack-of-all-trades, has many sided interests and enjoy reasoning things through. attracted to traveling and learning about other peoples and cultures. has vivid powers of emotional self-expression and can be a nonstop talker. loves to share ideas with anyone who will listen. Rising in Cancer: Very sensitive by nature, prefers to be in your own familiar surroundings. cautious and conservative. makes changes very slowly, if at all. does not open up easily to strangers. friendships are made for life and once given, your trust is forever. his mother and home as a child and early family life in general are very important. very sentimental. when feeling confident, he is very gentle, giving and protective of the needs of others. when feeling insecure or threatened, becomes overly sensitive to criticism, shy, withdrawn and moody. has a strong need for security in the sense that you are being loved, nourished and protected.

Mikasa Ackerman - February 10th, 1998 Sun in Aquarius: gets bored with the status quo and are generally open to new things and ideas. an individualist and a free spirit, friends are quite important as long as they do not try to tie her down by making too many emotional demands. thoughts are offbeat and a bit eccentric, but not always. very changeable. can be quite stubborn at times. very fair-minded when dealing with large groups or broad issues, are not always emotionally sensitive to the needs of individuals. extremely objective, with good powers of observation, would be qualified to study technical and complicated subjects, like science, computers or maybe even astrology. Moon in Leo: always wants to be proud of herself and will never do anything that will make her look bad. needs the respect and admiration of others and enjoy attracting attention. Everything she does tends to be self-emphasized and self-exaggerated. very stubborn. willful and independent. has to remember to allow the similar right to "be themselves." loves games and sports, would rather play than work. Rising in Gemini: extremely active by nature. likes to get around, meet people and do different things. very restless, can't seem to stay put. needs to be involved in several projects at once in order to keep the mind stimulated. likes to read books and to write letters and to talk. constantly. will always appear to be much younger than she really is. very adaptable and inquisitive, always open to new ideas and experiences. another "jack-of-all-trades", lively and versatile. athletic activity would be a good way to burn off energy.

Armin Arlert - November 3rd, 1999 Sun in Scorpio: intense and complex by nature. has extremely strong emotional reactions to most situations. feelings are often difficult to verbalize and therefore has a tendency to be very quiet. broods and thinks a lot. rarely gets overtly angry, and when he does, he is furious and unforgiving. when making an emotional commitment, it is total. is not attracted to superficial or casual relationships. when challenged, it is taken as a personal affront and lashes out/fights back in a vengeful manner. loves mysteries and the supernatural. a good detective, loves getting to the roots of problems and enjoys finding out what makes people tick. known to be very willful, powerful and quite tenacious. Moon in Virgo: tends to be serious-minded but mostly cheerful. needs tasks that engage both mind and hands. a careful worker who enjoys making things. neat and orderly, and are very concerned with good health habits. fastidious to the extreme, cannot tolerate messes and will immediately clean them up. reserved, shy, and very self-critical, tends to be very hard on himself. usually will go out of his way to be helpful. practical, reliable, efficient and conservative, at times a bit of a prude. known to lead a simple, uncomplicated, frugal, methodical and unemotional lifestyle. devoted and caring to those he loves. Rising in Capricorn: practical and reserved but very ambitious. an achiever and a hard worker, respects success. older looking and very serious as a youth, things lighten up and he will relax more as he matures. has a serious view of the world as being a difficult place to be in. very envious of those who seem to have an easier life than him, relaxation and play do not come easily. it's important that he had abundant parental support as a child so that he does not feel lonely and isolated as an adult. (:/) has an earthy sense of humor that can carry through when times really do get tough. purposeful, self-willed, industrious, realistic and responsible.

Jean Kirstein - April 7th, 1999 Sun in Aries: [Refer Eren Yeager] Moon in Sagittarius: prefers the grand, the beautiful, the good and noble. gets very disappointed when high expectations are not met. very curious, enjoys traveling and learning about other peoples and cultures. needs to avoid the tendency of ignoring the small but important details of living. independent and free and wants others to be that way, too. Optimistic, buoyant and cheerful, others like to have him around. has an incessant desire to learn as much as possible about metaphysics, religion, philosophy and any other broad, deep subject. life tends to be punctuated by bursts of energy and frenetic activity. Rising in Cancer: [Refer to Eren Yeager] (funny how they could never seem to get along but have similar birth placements lol)

Connie Springer - May 2nd, 1999 Sun in Taurus: known for being patient, slow moving and careful. loves to prolong and savor enjoyable times. appreciates and need comfort, ease and warm surroundings. a tendency of becoming placid and self-satisfied, and to overeat; especially sweets. requires strenuous situations in order to grow and mature, and simultaneously actively avoids said situations. affectionate, even-tempered and slow to anger. when he is emotionally upset, he is also slow to forgive. demands real results from any situation. abstractions are very difficult to comprehend. very artistic, his hands love to mold and shape things. portrays an earthy, physical sexiness that others find quite seductive. Moon in Scorpio: feelings are very intense and never superficial. tends to be either very angry, very sad or completely happy. moods are deep, extreme and not always completely understood by himself or by others. emotionally tends to prefer to live at the cutting edge of life, pushing reactions to the ultimate extremes even if the results are dangerous or upsetting. easily jealous and very suspicious. requires a great deal of emotional reassurance. also is a good detective. very curious about deep and mysterious things, especially human nature and motivations. Rising in Leo: loves to be the center of attention and wants to appear strong, confident and dominant. very proud of himself, sometimes quite vain even. very dignified and honorable. enjoys the power and privilege, but not the responsibilities, that come with leadership. very idealistic but can also be quite stubborn. prefers rich, elegant surroundings and possessions, and will try to acquire them as his budget allows. Physically, very impressive. has a regal, charismatic demeanor and bearing. has a tendency to be a show off! Sasha Braus - July 26th, 1999 Sun in Leo: More than a bit of a showoff, loves to be the center of attention! others do not usually mind because they tend to enjoy her genuine warmth and affection. very spirited and willful, proud and self-important. she demands her own way. quite honest. never compromises herself and pursues goals with persistence and dedication. her regal presence and demeanor draws her to positions of leadership and authority. must beware of being overly hardheaded, domineering, ostentatious or patronizing as this will lose the goodwill and admiration. very theatrical. lives life on a grand scale wherever and whenever possible. Moon in Capricorn: serious and shy and very uncomfortable in situations where spontaneous and exuberant emotional reactions seem called for. an achiever, prefers doing practical, worthwhile things that produce tangible results. needs role models to respect, love and emulate. tends to feel that she is a failure unless she get an important and highly respected position in life. Is always hard on herself. practical needs always win out over emotional considerations. must remember that she has the right to comfort, security and love. Dutiful and patient. when making an emotional commitment, it is for the long haul. Rising in Libra: Very attractive and popular, charm helps get her own way and prevents others from getting angry. "Peace and harmony at all costs" is her battle cry. always try to ameliorate or to cosmetically hide any physical ugliness or any angry feelings between people. Flashy, but not gaudy, prefers to dress elegantly. generally has good taste in music, art and literature. has a tendency to compromise herself in an attempt to be agreeable at all times. a social butterfly. can be vain and lazy. gracious and affectionate, serves as a role model to others.

Reiner Braun - August 1st, 1996 Sun in Leo: [Refer to Sasha Braus] Moon in Pisces: has strong feelings and is extremely sensitive. tends to react emotionally to every situation he comes across. kind, gentle and considerate of the feelings of others, good at taking care of the sick, wounded and helpless. will absorb the energy of others, and must avoid those who are always negative. has a rich, creative and lively imagination, but should be careful not to spend all his time daydreaming. very intuitive, has a good ESP and may be quite clairvoyant or psychic. must remember that he too has the right to get what he wants from life. Rising in Scorpio: tends to be quiet, reserved, secretive and quite difficult to understand. others notice his deep emotions and feelings and wonder how to draw him out. stubborn and tough, fights for any position he believes in. very resourceful and formidable when angered or upset about something. enjoys living life at the cutting edge, for life must be experienced intensely and totally. quite courageous, willing to take calculated risks. easily hurt by others, often strike back with bitter sarcasm. sensitive and curious. concerned with the deeper mysteries of human psychology. Bertolt Hoover - December 30th, 1996 Sun in Capricorn: extremely serious and mature. capable of accepting responsibilities and do so willingly. tends to get angry when people get rewards after not having worked anywhere near as hard as himself. goal-oriented and an achiever by nature. a hard worker and are justifiably proud of the tangible results of his efforts. tends to have "tunnel-vision" which allows him to block out extraneous matters that might distract others and to concentrate totally on the matter at hand. the ideal one to manage or administrate any ongoing project and will be practical and efficient at it. not a fast worker, but are quite thorough. known for being totally persistent, tenacious and tireless in reaching your goals. Moon in Virgo: [Refer to Armin Arlert] Rising in Aries: a free spirit, energetic, self-assertive and active. must do everything full-tilt, 100 miles per hour! a great competitor, but a poor cooperator. must learn how to lose gracefully. very self-confident, ambitious and passionate. radiates positive energy. blunt and direct, but at times unfeeling and tactless, especially if anyone offers you any resistance. fights for his beliefs, but often acts first and thinks later.

Annie Leonhardt - March 22nd, 1997 Sun in Aries: [Refer to Eren Yeager] Moon in Virgo: [Refer to Armin Arlert] Rising in Cancer: [Refer to Eren Yeager]

Levi Ackerman - December 25th, 1983 Sun in Capricorn: [Refer to Bertolt Hoover] Moon in Virgo: [Refer to Armin Arlert] Rising in Pisces: sensitive to his surroundings, other people's feelings become your feelings. must avoid negative people because his tendency to empathize with them will make him negative also. an idealist, must believe in something beyond normal everyday existence. a dreamer, likes to escape to a world of his own creation. known for his imagination and should try to share inner visions with others. self-sacrificial by nature. must allow himself to live once in a while. envious of those who are more aggressive than he is. his gentle charity and true humility are indeed wonderful gifts.

Hange Zoe - September 5th, 1991 Sun in Virgo: Extremely careful and cautious by nature. values neatness and order above all else. rigorously practice very high standards of living and conduct. sometimes so supercritical that they come off as nit-picky. very good at practical skills and quite handy with tools of all kinds. greatly concerned with hygiene, cleanliness and personal health problems. likely their health is much better than they think. methodical and analytical, a perfectionist and makes them the perfect person to carry out highly detailed, precise operations. pays so much attention to details that they may lose sight of the larger issues. Moon in Cancer: very strong and secure emotionally. intuitively knows what to do to make others feel comfortable, loved, accepted and needed. naturally enjoys feeding and taking care of others. it hurts deeply whenever anyone criticizes them. has an almost desperate need to be loved and wanted and needed by everyone and will go out of your their to be accommodating to them. Rising in Scorpio: [Refer to Reiner Braun]

Erwin Smith - October 14th, 1983 Sun in Libra: Very sociable. enjoys being with others and prefers not to be alone. Warm and affectionate. goes out of his way to make others like you. despises ugliness, for being surrounded by beauty and harmony is a necessity of life. prefers fine clothing, an attractive home and pleasant surroundings. his refined tastes apply to music and to art as well. very indecisive. wavers and falters when forced to make a choice because he has the ability to see both sides of any question. very fair-minded and can be trusted to settle disputes. greatest challenge is to take any one-on-one and make the most of it. Moon in Capricorn: [Refer to Sasha Braus] Rising in Capricorn: [Refer to Armin Arlert]

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taglist: @xttxck @snake-titan @fireandblood-xxii

#pls take a big ol spoonful of salt #my writing #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #levi ackerman #connie springer #jean kirstein #sasha braus #hange zoe #erwin smith #reiner braun #bertolt hoover #annie leonhardt

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