#i came back to tumblr for text posts and text posts alone

[psformybss]

You Said You Loved Me

drew starkey x costar!secretgf!reader

warnings: emotional whiplash, betrayal, heartbreak, mental health themes, self-harm mention, panic attack, regret, heavy emotions

a/n: tumblr isn’t letting me answer the request like usual but here is this one requested by @kieeslove . this is one is probably one of the most heartbreaking one-shots i’ve written to be honest but i love how it ended up coming out. please please please read the warnings before reading it.

The apartment is quiet. Too quiet.

You’ve had the whole day to yourself—no call time, no script changes, no wardrobe fittings. Just a long, open stretch of silence that you’d usually welcome.

But today, it’s been anything but peaceful.

You’ve barely moved from the couch since noon, wrapped in the hoodie Drew left on the kitchen chair last night, half-watching a show you’ve seen before just to fill the space. Your phone rests in your lap, screen dim, but your mind hasn’t stopped racing for hours.

You saw it this morning.

The story.

Odessa’s.

It popped up right after breakfast, when you were still groggy, sipping coffee on the balcony. You tapped through mindlessly until you froze on a video—shaky, close-up, her voice giggling behind the camera.

Drew.

He was leaning against a trailer, smiling—no, laughing. That wide, rare kind of laugh that crinkles the corners of his eyes. She flipped the camera back to herself, grinning like it was an inside joke between just the two of them.

And maybe it was.

The next slide was a photo. A candid. He had his head thrown back, laughing at something you couldn’t hear, while she stood beside him with only half her face in the frame.

But it was enough.

Enough to make your stomach twist.

Enough to make you stare too long at the caption.

“Set life with this goof 🤍”

The cast knows about you and Drew. Everyone on set does. You’ve stopped pretending around them—stopped hiding the way you slip into his trailer during breaks, how he kisses your temple when he thinks no one’s looking.

But outside of that circle, no one knows. No Instagram posts. No red carpets. Not even soft launches in the comments section.

And you understood why at first.

Keeping it private felt safer. Cleaner. Something just for you two.

Until moments like this.

Moments where he looks like someone else’s.

You scroll back through the texts—between you and Drew, between you and Odessa.

There’s nothing wrong, not really. But there’s a shift. A subtle unraveling.

He doesn’t say “I love you” before bed anymore. Doesn’t kiss your forehead when he leaves for work.

And Odessa—your best friend, the person who once felt like your other half—she’s been on set more and more. Not because she has to be. Just because.

You used to think she came to see you. To hang out between scenes, raid craft services, sit on your trailer floor and gossip about everything and nothing.

But lately, it feels like she’s there for him.

You told yourself not to overthink it. Not to read too much into the way her hand lingers on his arm when she laughs, or the way he seems more awake when she’s around.

But today, alone with your thoughts and too much time, the pit in your stomach hasn’t let up.

You pick up your phone again and scroll to your thread with Odessa.

No new messages.

She didn’t text you today.

Not after she posted those stories. Not after she spent half the afternoon on the same set your boyfriend was working on.

You’d texted her earlier—just a casual “You on set today?”—but it’s still sitting there, unanswered.

You switch to Drew’s messages.

You (9:42am): Miss you today. Hope the scene went okay.

You (12:16pm): Odessa still there?

You (3:03pm): Are you home late tonight?

All read. None replied to.

The front door opens at 1:14 a.m.

You don’t even flinch anymore. You just pull the hoodie tighter around you and pretend the tightness in your chest isn’t there.

Drew walks in with slow, tired steps, jacket slung over his arm, hair tousled from a long shoot.

You look up at him, soft but cautious. “Hey.”

He pauses at the doorway to the kitchen. “Hey. You’re up?”

“Didn’t have any scenes today,” you say, voice quieter than you mean. “Just stayed home.”

He nods, distracted. Opens the fridge. Grabs a bottle of water. Doesn’t ask about your day.

He scrolls his phone, thumbs moving quickly.

“Long shoot?” you ask after a moment.

“Yeah,” he says, cracking open the bottle. “Ran over like an hour. Just wrapped a little while ago.”

You hesitate. “Was Odessa still there?”

He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “For a bit. She left before we wrapped.”

Another beat of silence.

You want to say more. You want to ask why she’s always there lately, or why he hasn’t said I love you in four nights straight.

But your throat closes around the words, like saying them out loud would make it worse.

Drew glances at you again. “I’m gonna crash. Early call.”

You nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

He disappears down the hall. No kiss. No touch.

And again—no I love you.

You stare at your phone until the screen fades.

Open Odessa’s story one more time.

Watch the way he laughs like he’s weightless. The way she looks at him like she knows something you don’t.

They don’t look like they’re hiding anything.

But you feel like you’re the only one being kept in the dark.

You wake up to an empty apartment again. Drew left early for set, just like he said, but something’s different today. You didn’t have to film any scenes today either, so you stayed home, hoping maybe things would feel normal again. Maybe Drew would come back and the silence wouldn’t stretch so thin between you two.

But that’s not how it goes anymore.

You scroll through your phone, trying to shake the heaviness. You glance at your messages—nothing new from Drew, just the usual short replies.

Your eyes flick to Odessa’s name, the friend you’ve known for years—the one who always seemed like your sister, the person who knew you better than anyone. But lately, even she’s become distant.

You tap her name and open your texts.

“Can’t wait to hang out tomorrow! Dinner and drinks like old times?” you typed a few days ago. No reply. Just like the other texts since then.

The next morning, you woke to a curt text from Odessa: “Had to fly back to LA today. Sorry, last minute. Hope you understand.”

No call. Just a text.

Your stomach dropped. You’d been looking forward to that night all week, but now it was gone—just like her.

You tried not to overthink it, telling yourself she was busy.

She returned, just a few days later but didn’t tell you. You found out the worst way possible.

You were walking past the trailers on set when you saw them.

Drew and Odessa.

Laughing together.

Close.

Too close.

The easy way they leaned into each other—like you used to, all three of you—felt like a punch to the gut.

You stopped, heart hammering in your chest.

They looked up and caught your eyes. Drew smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Odessa’s grin faltered for a moment before she turned back to him.

Your throat tightened.

You blinked, trying to tell yourself you were imagining things. Maybe they were just friends. Maybe you were just overthinking.

But deep down, the pit in your stomach grew.

The distance between you and Drew had been growing too. More than growing—it had widened into a chasm you didn’t know how to cross.

Your conversations were clipped, like you were just two roommates trying to coexist rather than the couple you once were.

You found yourself wondering if maybe you were the problem.

Maybe I’m too much.

Maybe I’m not enough.

You replayed every conversation, every look, every silence between you two.

The way Drew would zone out when you talked about your day.

The way he spent more and more time texting someone you couldn’t see.

The way Odessa—your best friend—pulled away too, her responses short and distracted whenever you tried to ask if she was okay.

One afternoon, you caught her alone near the trailers.

“Hey, you’ve seemed… different lately. Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle.

She glanced up at you, eyes guarded.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” she said, but you knew better.

She was closing off, just like Drew.

You wanted to reach through the walls that were building around her, but you didn’t know how.

The days blur together, each one heavier than the last.

You watch the calendar pages turn—slow and unforgiving—but the distance between you and Drew feels like it’s growing faster by the day.

He’s quieter. More distracted. Even when he’s in the room with you, it’s like you’re separate islands sharing the same space.

It’s been over a week since he kissed you.

Not a single brush of lips, not even a quick peck in passing.

You catch yourself waiting, holding your breath for the moment it will happen. But it never does.

You try to convince yourself it’s just stress. Long shoots. Exhaustion.

But when the lights go out and the apartment is still, the silence screams louder than any excuse.

One night, you find yourself standing in the bathroom, warm water streaming over your face, blurring your vision.

You don’t want him to hear the quietness of your tears—so you let them fall only in the shower, behind the locked door.

The water carries the ache away for a little while.

Later, when Drew leaves for set—his phone forgotten on the kitchen counter, screen unlocked—you hesitate.

Curiosity gnaws at you.

You pick it up, fingers trembling.

His messages open to a thread with Odessa.

You scroll through, the words soft but sharp:

“Missed you today.”

“Can’t wait for tomorrow.”

There’s nothing explicit. No promises or declarations.

Just the kind of words that linger in the spaces between.

Your chest tightens.

You close the phone carefully and set it back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you wonder how long this has been going on.

How long you’ve been standing on the outside looking in.

You want to confront him. To demand the truth.

But the words catch in your throat.

The apartment is quiet again.

That terrible, airless quiet that makes you feel like even the walls are watching.

Your phone buzzes.

You almost don’t check. You’ve been trying to be good—trying to stop torturing yourself by scrolling through Instagram, through posts with her name tagged beside his, through photos where his eyes don’t even look like his anymore.

But the name on your screen is one you can’t ignore.

Odessa.

Your pulse jumps. You hesitate. Then you open it.

“I told Drew I’m in love with him. He feels the same. I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The air leaves your lungs in one slow, numb exhale.

You reread it once. Twice. A third time, as if the words might change if you look hard enough.

They don’t.

No emoji. No nervous laughter. No gray area.

Just a quiet confession and a knife between your ribs.

But you don’t cry.

You don’t scream.

You don’t even blink.

You just sit there on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees, the message open on your screen, the cursor blinking like it’s daring you to respond.

You don’t.

The front door opens not long after.

You hear it before you see him—his key sliding into the lock, the door creaking open, boots hitting hardwood.

He walks in humming, like he’s had a good day.

Like the world didn’t just drop out from under you.

Then he sees you.

And the humming dies.

“Hey,” Drew says slowly, careful. His voice is soft, uncertain now. “You got her text.”

Your head turns slowly toward him. Your eyes are glassy, unreadable.

So he knows.

Of course he knows.

“She told you she was going to send it?” you ask, voice flat.

He nods once. “She said she felt guilty. She didn’t want to lie anymore.”

You blink. Once. Twice.

“And you let her?”

“I didn’t let her,” he says, stepping closer. “I tried to stop her, but—”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. It sounds like something breaking.

“She said you feel the same.”

Drew hesitates. “That’s not what I—look, it’s not black and white, okay? It’s complicated—”

You stare at him. “Complicated,” you repeat, the word like acid in your mouth.

He moves toward you, crouching beside the couch, reaching for your hand.

You flinch before he can touch you.

He freezes.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he says quietly.

Your hands shake as you stand, your voice rising without warning. “Don’t you dare say that to me.”

His eyes go wide. “I—”

“No.” You cut him off, stepping back. “You don’t get to say you didn’t mean to. You chose this.”

“You think I wanted to hurt you?”

“You did hurt me.”

The fury rises in you like a tide—faster than you can stop it.

“I’ve been here,” you whisper. “Every single day. Loving you. Waiting for you to love me back the way you used to.”

You grab the photo from the coffee table—the one from Paris, the one where you look happiest, safest, most certain of him.

You throw it across the room with every ounce of strength you have.

It hits the wall and shatters, glass and memories scattering across the floor.

He flinches.

“You were supposed to love me,” you say, voice cracking now. “Not her. Me.”

Drew steps forward like he’s trying to fix something already broken. “I do love you—”

“No, you don’t,” you snap. “Not really. Because if you did, this wouldn’t have happened.”

He tries to hug you, arms reaching for you like he still has a right to them.

You let him.

But not out of love.

Out of exhaustion.

His chest presses to yours, and for one brief second you remember the comfort that used to live in that space.

Now it feels foreign.

He murmurs, “We can fix this. Please. I’ll cut things off with her. We can go to therapy or—”

You press your hands to his chest and push him back gently.

“No,” you say. “This isn’t something you fix.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Well, you did.”

You walk to the door. Open it.

His breath catches. “You’re really kicking me out?”

You nod.

“I need space. I need you gone.”

Drew just stands there, stunned.

You look him straight in the eye.

“Come back for your things when I’m not here.”

“Please,” he says again, voice cracking. “Just let me explain—”

“You already did.”

And then you close the door.

Not hard.

Just enough to say this is final.

The click of the lock is the only sound in the apartment now.

The kind of silence that feels like grief.

Weeks pass.

The days don’t feel like days anymore.

Just hours strung together like dim beads on a thread you didn’t ask to hold.

You’re back on set.

Back in makeup chairs and wardrobe trailers. Back in long shooting days and artificial sunsets. Back in scenes where you’re supposed to smile, touch, kiss. Where you’re supposed to cry in the rain, shout until your throat is raw, crumble in someone else’s arms like your heart is breaking.

Pretend.

You move through it all like a ghost.

Quiet. Efficient. Detached.

You say your lines. You hit your marks. You laugh when the script says you’re supposed to. You kiss him when the camera rolls. You sob against his chest on cue, let your voice crack in that way the director loves. You even slap him in one scene—your eyes glassy, your voice trembling as you yell through clenched teeth.

But nothing touches you.

Not really.

You feel like someone’s removed your insides and left only the outline of you behind. Something hollowed out and left on autopilot.

Between takes, you sit by yourself.

No music in your headphones. No books cracked open. Just silence, staring at nothing, like you’re afraid to fill the space with anything real.

You used to light up on set. You used to steal the crew’s snacks, laugh between takes, tease Drew when he flubbed his lines. There was always an energy around you—light, warm, full of spark.

Now, the spark is gone.

And everyone feels it.

They don’t say anything, not directly. But you can feel the stares. The too-gentle hellos. The quiet way people check on you like they’re afraid you might shatter if they speak too loud.

Even Drew notices.

Especially Drew.

You don’t look at him unless the scene requires it.

You don’t answer when he says your name off camera.

You don’t sit near him at lunch, don’t meet his eyes when the director gives you blocking notes, don’t flinch when you’re told you’ll be filming another kiss today.

You just nod.

And do it.

Like it doesn’t hurt.

Like it doesn’t kill you every time his hands touch your waist, every time he looks at you like he remembers what it used to feel like to be loved by you.

The worst part is—he still looks at you like he’s in love.

Like he’s sorry.

But sorry doesn’t undo the wreckage.

You’ve already learned how to carry the debris.

Today, there’s a scene. You’re arguing. The kind that gets rewritten the night before for “heightened emotional stakes.” You scream at him, tears in your eyes, spit flying as you shove him in the chest. Your voice breaks in all the right places. The crew holds their breath.

"Cut."

You step back. Wipe your face. The tears vanish as fast as they came.

You turn away from him without a glance, your expression flat. Cold.

Drew just stands there, stunned. Still catching his breath from a fight that wasn’t real—at least not on paper. Still staring at you like he’s waiting for something soft to return to your face.

But your face is steel now.

Sharp angles. No trace of the vulnerability from a moment ago. Just rage simmering under the surface, quiet and controlled and utterly unreachable.

Like flipping a switch.

And that’s what terrifies him.

The way you can drop the emotion like it never existed. Like he doesn’t exist.

Between takes, you walk off set. You need air. Space. Anything that doesn’t feel like recycled heartbreak.

You step out behind the trailers, where no one’s watching.

Your hands tremble as you pull a cigarette from your jacket pocket. You haven’t smoked since college, since a messy breakup you thought nothing would ever top.

Funny.

You light it with shaking fingers, inhale, exhale, trying to find some kind of calm in the burn.

You don’t hear Rudy approach.

But you feel him.

He walks up slowly, hands in his pockets, eyes kind.

Without a word, he reaches out and gently takes the cigarette from your fingers.

You don’t fight him.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You glance at him, just barely. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

It’s the kind of question that should come with a dozen follow-ups. But he doesn’t push. Just asks it like he’ll believe whatever answer you give him.

You nod once. “Yeah.”

It’s a lie.

He knows it’s a lie.

But he lets you have it anyway.

Rudy looks at you for a long moment before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

Then he slings an arm loosely around your shoulders.

You don’t lean into it. But you don’t pull away, either.

You just stand there.

Side by side.

Quiet.

Because some silences don’t beg to be filled.

Some are just there to be witnessed.

The moon is a sliver above the water—ghostly and thin, like it’s watching but too tired to shine.

Drew finds you sitting at the edge of the dock, legs drawn up, arms locked around your knees like if you let go, you’d come apart completely.

You haven’t moved in what feels like hours.

He stands behind you for a while, saying nothing. Just… watching.

You look so still.

Too still.

So he steps forward, wood groaning beneath his weight, careful not to scare you. Not that you react. Not even a glance. Your eyes are locked on the black water, the surface rippling quietly like it’s holding your secrets.

He settles beside you, close but not touching. The wind brushes through your hair.

For a moment, all he hears is the hush of the waves and the far-off echo of laughter from the house.

He thinks maybe you’re calm.

Then he hears it.

That faint, stuttering breath. The wet sound of someone trying not to fall apart.

He turns to look at you—and sees it.

Your shoulders trembling.

Your jaw clenched so tight it’s trembling.

The soft, broken sound clawing from your throat as your lungs fail you.

You’re crying.

But it’s not just crying.

It’s a full-body unraveling.

He shifts closer, alarm rising in his chest. “Hey. Hey, breathe. Look at me.”

You don’t.

Your body hunches in tighter, shoulders shaking harder as your breath gets faster, shallower—like you’re trapped under something heavy.

“Breathe with me, okay?” Drew tries again, voice soft. “Just… follow me.”

He reaches out carefully, fingers brushing your wrist to anchor you, like he used to do back when things were simpler—back when that touch meant safety.

But this time, the contact makes you flinch.

And still, his hand closes gently around your wrist—and that’s when he feels it.

His fingers still.

Then tighten—just slightly.

Because he knows what he’s touching.

Scars.

Fresh ones.

Fainter than they used to be, maybe. But new. Raw.

His entire body goes cold.

“Please…” His voice breaks, a whisper edged in panic. “Please tell me those are old.”

Your head snaps toward him.

Your eyes—red, wide, furious—are like a slap.

You rip your arm from his grip and clutch it against your chest like a secret.

“I told you I wasn’t doing that anymore,” you snap, voice cracking. “I told you I was okay.”

“I thought you were,” he says, stunned. “You promised—”

“You think I wanted to start again?” you explode. “You think I wanted to go back to that?”

Your voice is all rage and ache and grief. “Do you know what it’s like? To sit in a bathroom with a towel under you and a razor in your hand, and you’re shaking so bad you can’t tell if you want to die or just want it to stop?”

He’s silent.

Paralyzed.

“I stopped for you,” you say, trembling. “I stopped because you made me feel like I was enough.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “But then you weren’t mine anymore. You were hers. And I couldn’t breathe, Drew. I couldn’t fucking breathe.”

You stand up so fast he can barely react.

You stumble backward a few steps, chest heaving, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield.

“If you were just gonna fall in love with my best friend…” Your voice cracks. “Then you shouldn’t have asked me to be your fucking girlfriend.”

He rises slowly, hands out like he’s approaching a wounded animal.

“I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“But you did!” you scream, backing away. “You knew how fragile I was. You knew. I told you everything. I told you what it felt like to want to hurt myself. I told you what it cost to survive it.”

Tears streak your face, wild and fast.

“And you still chose her.”

He tries to reach for you. “Please—just talk to me.”

You shove his chest with both hands. Hard. Then again. And again.

“You were supposed to love me.”

He doesn’t stop you. He just stands there and takes it.

“You were supposed to be different,” you cry. “I trusted you with everything. I gave you every broken piece and you just—God—Drew, you left me there.”

More footsteps. Fast ones. The house has gone silent behind you, but now someone’s running.

Rudy reaches you just as you collapse forward.

He catches you in his arms, sinking with you to the dock.

Your body shakes with silent sobs, all strength gone, all resistance dissolved.

Madelyn grabs Drew, her expression unreadable—fear and fury clashing behind her eyes.

She pulls him back, away from you, away from the collapse.

“What happened?” she hisses, voice low and sharp.

But Drew can’t answer.

He’s crying too.

Watching the way Rudy holds you like something sacred and shattered.

Your voice, small and hoarse, cuts through the stillness.

“I really loved you,” you whisper, like you’re trying to remind yourself it mattered. “I really did.”

Rudy closes his eyes, jaw tight, hugging you closer.

“And I tried,” you say, your breath hitching again. “I really tried not to hurt myself. I really did.”

The only sound left is your broken breathing and the water moving beneath the dock.

No one knows what to say.

No one knows if anything would help.

And Drew—

He kneels in the shadows, hands shaking, the words I’m sorry caught somewhere between his heart and throat, knowing they’ll never be enough.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

The room is cold. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting pale shadows across the long table that stretches between you and the others.

You sit at one end, fingers curled tightly around the edge of the wood, knuckles blanching with pressure.

Across from you, the cast shifts uncomfortably in their seats—Jonas standing at the head of the table, his hands resting on its surface like an anchor, eyes serious and tired.

Drew sits near the middle, hands folded in his lap, eyes fixed on the scuffs in the floor.

The silence hangs like a storm about to break, thick and unyielding.

Jonas clears his throat.

“We can’t keep filming like this,” he says, voice low but steady.

“This tension, this… distance. It’s hurting the work. And it’s hurting all of you.”

He looks around the room, then back at you.

“We all want to move forward. But that means you and Drew need to talk. You need to clear this, or at least try.”

Your throat tightens, words lodged in your chest like shards.

You stare down at the table, tracing a scratch in the grain with your finger.

Drew finally speaks, voice hesitant, raw.

“I never meant for things to get this messed up. For me to fall for Odessa.”

He looks up, meeting your eyes briefly.

“I wasn’t trying to use you, YN. I swear. You have to believe me.”

You swallow hard.

Bitter words claw at your throat, but they spill out before you can stop them.

“You promised me everything.”

Your voice breaks, trembling like a frayed wire.

“Paris. A house with a garden.”

“Kids. Marley from the pound.”

You close your eyes and press your palms to the table to stop them from shaking.

A cold certainty wraps around your words, unshakable.

The room is still.

Drew’s shoulders slump, a bitter twist in his chest.

“Do you really think I fell for her just to hurt you?”

His voice breaks like glass, fragile and jagged.

You don’t answer.

You don’t want to.

“You think you’re the only one hurting?”

He shakes his head, voice rising with desperate frustration.

“You think this is easy for me?”

The words are raw, ragged.

You lean forward, voice cutting through the thick silence.

“Easy?” you scoff. “You and Odessa? The perfect little couple who ruined me?”

Jonas steps between you with a steadying hand raised.

“Enough.”

You lift your head slowly, voice low and final.

“I can do the scenes. But Drew stays away from me.”

“Odessa stays away, too. If she ever visits, I don’t want to see her.”

The words fall like a decree, clear and unyielding.

You stand abruptly, the chair scraping hard against the floor.

Your breath catches—sharp and uneven.

The door slams behind you.

Leaving behind only silence and the lingering weight of what’s broken.

Time passes in strange ways after everything breaks.

The apartment is quieter now. Not silent—just… softer. Like everyone’s learned to move around the wound without touching it.

You’ve stopped crying in the bathroom.

You still avoid him on set.

But you’re functioning again.

You wake up with the sun instead of dragging yourself out of bed at noon. You drink water. You make your bed. You sit on the balcony in the mornings with a journal in your lap and your knees curled to your chest, scribbling down thoughts you won’t say out loud.

You don’t live in the old apartment anymore.

You couldn’t. Not after everything.

The quiet was too loud there. The walls still held the shape of him—his coffee mug on the counter, his laugh echoing in the hallway, the soft imprint of a life you built and lost all at once.

So you packed it all up and left. New place. New routine. Smaller, lonelier, but yours.

No ghosts.

Just space to breathe.

Sometimes, you paint again. You drag an old easel out to the balcony and lose yourself in blues and golds and soft, wide brushstrokes. Your fingers end up stained for days.

Sometimes, you laugh.

Mostly with Rudy. He’s your shadow now. Always close. Always watching.

He knows when to joke, when to distract you, when to sit in silence and just breathe beside you.

JD brings you coffee every morning from town, no matter what. It started as a quiet gesture. Now it’s a ritual. He doesn’t say much—but you know it’s his way of reminding you you’re seen. Still wanted. Still here.

The cast has adjusted. They don’t talk about what happened. Not in front of you. Not in front of him.

You and Drew still share scenes. Still work together like professionals.

But off-camera? You orbit each other like broken planets.

Not friends.

Not enemies.

Just… nothing.

And maybe that’s worse.

Drew keeps his distance, like you asked. He doesn’t push. Doesn’t try.

But he watches you when he thinks you won’t notice.

From the far side of the room, across the lawn, just past the camera setup.

Always just out of reach.

You caught him once, lingering in the doorway as you laughed too hard at something Rudy said, your head thrown back, hair messy, eyes brighter than they’d been in weeks.

He didn’t smile.

He just stood there, quiet and still, his expression unreadable.

Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to feel anything.

Like he wasn’t sure he deserved to.

Some days, you think you might hate him.

Other days, you ache just thinking his name.

But mostly—you’re just tired.

Tired of missing someone who’s still right there.

Tired of feeling haunted by a version of him that doesn’t exist anymore.

And Drew—

He wonders how it got like this.

How a joke at a table, a few lingering glances, a shared hoodie and some stupid, unspoken boundaries turned into something he’d ruin with a single mistake.

How he lost the girl who loved him enough to break for him.

He watches you from afar, regret curling in his chest like smoke.

You’re still beautiful. Still brilliant. Still trying.

But now, when you smile—it’s never at him.

And he doesn’t know if it ever will be again.

[mixolya]

I honestly have no idea how tumblr works so idk if this is where I make requests...

Anyways idea/request for an itoshi sae x reader short story where reader is a well known k-pop idol who was recently caught in a scandal that she took no part in and received lots of hate as a result! She starts losing her appetite and becoming visibly skinnier bc of the hate and sae notices and becomes rlly worried for her!

Srry this is honestly so cringy I js had a random idea and needed someone to write it 😔😔

ᓚᘏᗢ — sae itoshi: stay with me !

synopsis: when a brutal scandal leaves you drowning in public hate and self-doubt, your secret boyfriend sae itoshi refuses to let you face it alone.

sae itoshi x reader ⭑ angst / secret relationship / hurt & comfort cw!!! eating disorder, mentions of suicide + likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: this took me a bit long sorry if my writing is washed

sae noticed it first in your texts. the usual stream of messages, your excited ramblings, blurry selfies with a kiss face, little voice notes you sent when you couldn't type fast enough, started to shrink. your replies became shorter, sometimes delayed, sometimes missing altogether. then came the photos, or rather, the lack of them.

you used to send him everything. outfit checks, dance practice clips, the view from your hotel room window when you were touring. now, your camera roll seemed locked away.

he knew why. the scandal, the one you had no part in.

a baseless accusation from an anonymous post had spiraled into trending hashtags overnight. the internet had latched onto your name, twisting narratives, pulling you under with no proof, no defense that seemed loud enough.

he kept waiting for you to fight back. for the usual fire in your voice to return. but it didn't.

and when he finally got you alone on a rare day when your schedules aligned, you were already smaller. not just in weight, but in presence. you looked like you'd folded yourself in, like you were trying to take up less space in the world.

"did you eat?" he asked bluntly, sitting across from you in his apartment. you nodded, picking at the edge of your sleeve. " a little, before practice."

"you're lying," his chest tightened.

you glanced away, lips pressing into a faint smile that didn't belong to you. "i'm fine, sae."

"you're not," he stood, crossed the room in two steps and knelt in front of you. "look at me."

reluctantly, you did. your eyes were tired, rimmed faintly with exhaustion, but it wasn't that which broke him. it was the way you looked afraid. of disappointing him. of being weak in front of him.

"you think i care about some fake scandal?" his thumb brushed over your knee. "you think i'd believe a word of that shit?"

you shook your head quickly. "it's not that. i know you don't believe it. it's just-" your voice cracked. you swallowed it down. "...everyone else does."

"they're just people behind a screen."

"they're people behind a screen who tell me to die."

it hit him like a gut punch. not because you were wrong, but because you said it so.. calmly. like you'd gotten used to hearing it.

you laughed breathless and broken. "isn't it funny? i've spent my whole career trying to make people happy, and now they can't stand me. i can't even remember the last time i finished a meal without thinking about what they'd say about my weight after the whole scandal thing."

his stomach twisted. you'd always been careful with your diet because of your career, but this wasn't careful at all. this was self-destruction. and it terrified him.

"you don't have to finish it for them," he said quietly. "you don't have to do anything for them."

you shook your head. "it's not that simple. i can't just-" you gestured vaguely, frustration rising. "i can't just stop caring. it's my job. my face, my body- it's my brand."

sae's grip on your knee tightened just slightly. "fuck your brand."

your breath caught.

"fuck the people who don't know you. fuck the ones who think they can control you." his voice was low. it was the same tone he used when shutting down reporters. "if you lose yourself chasing their approval, what's the point?"

your lips trembled. "i don't want to lose myself."

"then don't."

"i'm trying-" your voice cracked again. you buried your face in your hands, shoulders shaking. "i'm really trying, sae."

carefully, he reached up, coaxing your hands away from your face. his thumb traced the corner of your eye, catching a stray tear. without another word, sae slid his arms around you, lifting you effortlessly into his chest. you let out a soft gasp, instinctively curling into him as he sat down the couch, settling you on his lap, one hand firm on your back, the other smoothing down your hair.

"you don't have to try alone," he murmured, his voice steady against the storm inside you. "i'm here. i'm not going anywhere."

your fingers clutched at his shirt, desperate for something solid, something that wouldn't slip away like the rest of your world seemed to be doing.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, breath trembling against his neck. "i just.. i don't know how to fix this."

"then don't fix it all at once." he pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there. "just stay. stay with me tonight. start there."

"i don't feel like eating though."

"doesn't matter." his hand rubbed slow circles on your back. "you need to. for yourself, not for them."

you swallowed thickly, the quiet weight of his words breaking down your walls. sae itoshi didn't plead. he didn't chase. but here he was, holding you close, asking you to fight for yourself.

so you nodded, barely, but it was enough for him to pull you even closer, like he was trying to shield you from the world.

"i'll cook."

"you can't cook," you mumbled, your tears warm against his skin.

"i can cook enough," his thumb brushed over your cheekbone. "enough to keep you here."

you gave a small, tired laugh. "you're sooo bad at this."

"at what?"

"comforting people."

he smirked faintly. "never comforted someone, what did you expect?"

his hand slid down, interlacing his fingers with yours.

and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself lean into him. into his warmth, his steadiness, his quiet refusal to let you disappear.

right now, you were safe. you were staying. and sae wasn't letting you go.

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Can you write one about were Logan x female reader x oscar or Lando x female reader x Oscar or Logan x Female reader x oscar x lando

Where They are at a afterparty for a race and since y/n was being a needy and bratty all race week and weekend long before they went to the after party some one of the 2-3 drivers had put a vibrator up her ass and at the party since she was still acting needy and bratty they started to turn up the power of the vibrator as they keep teasing her until she is on the edge about to cum and they stop telling her it’s her punishment for taking bratty all week and race weekend long as she started to beg and plead to let herself finish, they all take a car home to there shared apartment and but the vibrator at max power again and continue this in their room were they end up have unprotected sex, use rope and a mouth gag, blindfold, call her dirty names and say dirtier things to her or in her ear and after for aftercare they take super good care of her

Oscar is a Dom and in charge Lando and Logan can we doms or switchs, y/n is a sub

I'm actually gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now, I love you anonymous 😘🫣.

You Shouldn't Have Done That

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader x Logan Sargeant x Lando Norris

I hope I did you justice (for gotham)

Warnings: SMUT, Bondage, Vibrators, Overstimulation, Bratty Y/N, Sucker Logan, Mean Lando, MEANER Oscar, Crying, Slapping, Anal, Triple Penetration, probably more but I forgot

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

part 2

A knock at the door is what drew my attention away from my phone that I'd been staring at for the last 15 minutes reading a few of these 'fan fictions' about my boyfriends that people were DMing me. Apparently somebody with no life named 'logansargeantsbabymom' has been making shit smut and posting it on Tumblr.

"Baby, race is about to start" I could recognize that beautiful English accent from a mile away.

Normally hearing Lando's incredibly sexy voice would make my bones start jumping in my skin but apparently I'm not the only fucking one because people fantasize about having the filthiest sex with him, write about it, post it on Tumblr and his fans eat it up!!

"I'm coming" I said nonchalantly as I got off the sofa that Lando had in his drivers room.

Lando held the door open for me as I brushed past him making my way to the back of the garage and then out of it. I didn't want to see him.

"What's wrong with her?" Oscar says as he came up from behind Lando

"I've got no clue but if she keeps it up I'm fucking it out of her" Lando shrugged before putting his helmet on

One thing about me is that I will make sure I am the one that puts on all three of my boyfriends helmets on them. I love to go up on my tippy toes to bite the tip of their nose before placing a kiss on it then the helmet on them. I've always done it even if we had gotten into the biggest argument on planet earth but right now, that's the last thing I wanted to do for Lando. I couldn't do it for Oscar either because then I'd fell bad for doing our normal race day tradition on Oscar and then just dipping and leaving Lando alone.

I also didn't want to deal with the consequences of "favoriting" Logan if I only did it for him so I skipped out on the tradition as a whole. The race was about to start in 10 minutes which means the drivers are all about to or already in their car and getting ready to get out on the track. I couldn't go back into the McLaren garage or I'd have to face two of the three boyfriends I'd just pissed off and I couldn't go to the Williams garage because they probably already texted Logan. So I went to the next best place: The Mercedes Garage.

I was forbidden to go in the Mercedes garage alone because apparently Lewis has a 'thing' for me, which wouldn't surprise me because I'm hot.

"Hey Y/N, what're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be biting your boyfriends' noses?" I knew that cheeky English accent and it belong to the man that I was never to be in a room with alone.

"Lewis! Supposed to? Yes. Am? No, they pissed me off so I'm ignoring them." I shrugged. I really couldn't care less how they were going to react to me breaking tradition.

"Isn't that just going to get you in trouble?" Lewis said cautiously

"Not as much trouble I'll be in if they find out I was here with you alone." I chuckled as I shrugged.

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket like crazy which caused me to whip it out and see what the fuck was going on.

Fantastic 4

Fav Butt Plug: I swear to the heavens above Y/N if this girl whose on the screen right now is you in the Mercedes garage with Lewis ALONE, I'm having your ass tonight. Oscunt: I want to know what the fuck has you all pissed at Lando but I don't like your little stunt of ignoring ME. Me: Stalkers Logie: Baby, why didn't you come to put my helmet on? Fav Butt Plug: You have one more time to piss me off Y/N.

"Lewis do you want to help me with something real quick?" The idea I had in mind was sure to make the tabloids right away and send the internet into a frenzy

"I don't like the general direction of where your idea's go." I waved a hand at him

"Let me put your helmet on you, I promise there will be no kissing" I looked at the clock, Lewis had 5 minutes before he was to be getting on the track and with a quick nod of his head I took the helmet out of his hands before securing it on his head before giving him a big smile and a bear hug before he was ushered into his car.

As I was exiting the Mercedes garage, I didn't know where I was going to go. Everyone is still in their respective garages and I'm NOT facing my boyfriends right now. Shortly after my encounter with

Fantastic 4 Fav Butt Plug: expect 10 orgasms MINIMUM tonight. Oscunt: None of which from me so don't ask. Logie: Did I do something baby? Why did you put Lewis' helmet on and not mine? Oscunt: Logan, she's being a brat. She didn't put mine or Lando's helmets on. Logie: I'm sorry for whatever I did to you, my sweet girl Oscunt: She acts this way because you give into her every ask, this is your fault Logan. I hope you crash. Logie: first of all, don't say that because I still don't have a seat for next season. Secondly, I do give into her every word because she's my pillow princess. Me: At least someone appreciates me, I love you Logan Logie: I love you more. Oscunt: She was never spoiled or a brat until you came along Logan, maybe you deserved to get punished alongside your dear 'pillow princess'. Me: Don't you dipshits (not you Logan) have a race? Stop texting me and drive.

————————

And drive is exactly what they did because Lando came in 1st, Oscar 3rd and Logan 4th.

The race was definitely a hard one with the on and off rain, the wall of champions and the hairpin but somehow they all managed it and they did it well.

Usually when one of my boyfriends has a good race weekend the victory sex is amazing but all 3 of them placed in the top 4? I don’t think I’m getting ANY rest tonight.

I stood by the scale so I could congratulate 2 of my boyfriends for their victory podiums but after they were congratulated by their team and they recorded their weights, they walked right past me.

I felt a sharp pain in my heart at their act but then I realized why they did what they did, I was being a brat before the race but if they wanna act like that, I will one up them.

I turned my head to the man who was currently getting his weight recorded and the man who came in second. It also happens to be the same man who I’m not allowed to be alone with.

“LEWIS!! CONGRATULATIONS!” I screamed as I hugged him, making sure to make the hug last a little longer than a typical ‘friend’ hug would last while also swaying us side to side.

"Y/N! Thank you, thank you. Are you coming to the after party, we already rented out the whole bar?" There was a little sparkle in his eyes that gave me an idea.

A sly smirk plastered itself on my face "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, especially if you're going to be there!" I placed a quick kiss on his cheek before placing my hand where I had just placed the kiss.

"Y/N!!" It was a loud and angry yell that should've scared me but it did the exact opposite, it turned me on.

I turned to face the person the voice belonged to, to see Lando with the meanest glare I've ever seen on his face. I gave a little nod goodbye to Lewis before making my way to Lando.

"Hey my handsome winner" I said when I got close enough as I ran my hand through his thick and messy curls, it didn't last long though because he grabbed my wrist and dragged me with him to his drivers room.

When we got there he opened the door and shoved me inside where I was met with my other two boyfriends who looked less than pleased with me. Lando slammed the door shut which caused me to jump and face him.

Lando's face didn't shift a bit from his angry demeanor. "Oh, is bunny scared? Surprised she can act any other way that isn't bratty" I heard a voice from behind me say as a chest was up pressed against my back and felt the back of a hand trace the side of my face before gripping the flesh of my throat.

"Oscar" it came out as a choked groan

I saw Logan from the corner of my eyes fishing something out of a box that Lando had stowed away behind the sofa before he made his way over to us. Oscar still had his hand on my throat but he ushered me towards the massage bed Lando has before aggressively bending me over on it which caused me to let out a groan. I could hear Logan's footsteps coming closer to where Lando was before handing him a pink object and I felt Oscar's hand at the hem of my leggings before yanking them down along with my panties.

At first Oscar was just playing with the flesh of my ass and occasionally leaving harsh slaps on it saying things like "You asked for this", "take this part of your punishment like a good girl and maybe I'll tell Lando to go easy on you." I heard Lando whisper something to Oscar and then I felt one more final and harsh slap on my ass before I felt Oscar's hands spread open my ass cheeks and forced his thumb in my tight asshole thrusting it in and out before shoving the Lush lovense vibrator where his thumb once was.

A loud string of moans and curse words left my lips before I felt a pair of lips on mine swallowing my moans. When he pulled away, I opened my eyes to see my favorite American right there looking at me with sympathetic eyes. Logan never liked when I got punished and had to deal with all the roughness Lando and Oscar put me through, he only liked soft, vanilla sex most of the time.

"It's okay baby, just be good" Logan said before he placed a soft and tender kiss on my lips.

Oscar's rough hands yanked me back into a standing position and Lando bent over to lift my leggings back up and over my waist before lightly slapping my cheek

"This is how you're going to the afterparty, don't you even think about cumming until we get home OR unless me or Oscar give you permission." I knew he was going to leave Logan out of giving me permission because he gives me basically everything I want with just a bat of my lashes.

-----

We've only been in this bar/club for less than 30 minutes and I'm already sweating. I'm not sweating because there's a lot of people in here all grinding against each other, no I'm sweating because Lando keeps turning the vibrator on the fastest setting and letting it go just until I'm about to cum before he turns it off denying me any sort of relief and he's done this about 6 times already. I can't do this anymore.

Lando turned the vibrator on full blast and watched as I squirmed in my seat as I was having a conversation with Alex

"Are you okay? You're sweating more than normal right now and you keep fidgeting" Poor Alex, she seemed so concerned

"Yeah I just have to go to the bathroom, I've had to pee for a while now but I didn't want to interrupt your story" It wasn't a total lie, I didn't want to interrupt her story but I didn't have to pee.

"Oh Y/N, go to bathroom, I'll be here!" with that I quickly made my way to the ladies room quickly checking every stall before settling into one and taking the vibrator out of my ass, sighing in relief before wrapping it in toilet paper and tossing it into the bin.

Exiting the stall with a smile on my face, I quickly washed my hands before making my way back to Alex.

"Hey, sorry about that again. I really had to go" I tried to sound sincere, mainly because I was.

Alex finished telling me about her story about how Charles surprised her with a trip to Sydney and all the fun things they did over in the down under when I felt quick and rapid taps on my shoulder, prompting me to look at the man who was tapping me aggressively.

"Baby, we have to go now, Logan just got really sick" My heart dropped and I looked over Lando's shoulder to see Oscar helping Logan out of the bar.

"I'm sorry Alex, I have to go" I didn't wait for her response before I bolted past Lando and out the door.

Much to my surprise when I made it past the bar doors, I saw Logan and Oscar laughing up a storm and having a good time. My mouth hung in shock as I couldn't believe the sight in front of me. I was about to turn around to give Lando a piece of my mind for lying to me and making me cut my conversation short.... AGAIN.

"Lando! How dare you lie-" I couldn't finish my sentence due to Lando holding up his hand signaling me to shut up before pulling his phone out and flipping it.

The sight made my face drop, he was currently showing me the app he has to control my vibrator setting and it was all the way up.

"Bunny, do you know how many times I turned this up tonight?" Lando tilted his head and when I didn't answer he tsked before walking closer to me "I'm not asking you again. Answer me like a good girl and I won't punish you."

"You won't?" he shook his head "I took it out at 6, I don't know how many more times you did it after"

"I turned it up 4 more times after you took it out." I felt a body against my back

"Just wait until we get home for your punishment " Oscar whispered in my ear before slapping my ass so hard I let out a little yelp

"I thought I wasn't getting punished?" I said confused

"No, I said I wasn't punishing you. I said nothing about Oscar" A cocky smirk plastered itself on Lando's insanely hot face and I watched as him and Oscar both got into Lando's McLaren.

I felt a hand on the small of my back and I turned to see Logan, he seemed to have a sympathetic look on his face "I tried to get them to come up with a different type of punishment then what you're getting but they didn't want to hear it. Don't say I didn't try to help you"

Oh god.

----

When we got back to Oscar's apartment, I almost didn't want to go in. I didn't have to have to endure the punishments they had in store for me but Oscar didn't take lightly to that and in 2 seconds flat he threw me over his shoulders and walked me to his room.

Lando had made his way to his room to get what he claimed was 'part of your punishment' while Logan closed the door to the apartment. Oscar had chucked me on the bed before yanking me to the edge of it, holding a hand on my chin forcing me to look at him in the eyes.

"Strip" was all Oscar said. I did as I was told because I already knew I was in for a long night and I didn't want to push Oscar any further.

I started slowly unbuttoning my dress shirt but Oscar didn't like that, he ripped the shirt open sending the buttons flying everywhere. I wanted to yell at him for ruining my favorite shirt but I knew there was going to be no point. When Lando and Logan walked in the room I could tell they also knew that I wouldn't be in the pubic eye for about a week after all three of them were done with me.

Logan made his way around and on the bed to be right behind me "These tits, oh my gosh. You're going to be the death of me" Logan mumbled into the crook of my neck as his hands made their way around my body to grope my chest.

"I can't wait to burry my cock in her tight little ass" Lando said as he sat on the bed beside me and started to kiss my shoulder. I let out a string of moans as I had two pairs of lips kissing and sucking on two different parts of my body

"Wanna tell me what made you so upset earlier that caused you to be bratty all day today? Hmm?" Lando said as his hand snaked its way down my stomach and under the elastic of my leggings.

"Let's take these off, yeah?" Oscar said as he yanked them off my body.

My legs instinctively opened to allow Lando more access to where I ached for him the most.

"I saw- oh my gosh Lando, please" I was cut off my Lando having inserted two digits into my pussy, thrusting them in and out while his thumb started rubbing circles on my clit.

"I believe Lando asked you a question Bunny" Oscar said as he reached his hands around my body to unclasp my bra.

His one hand immediately found my breast and started circling my nipples as Logan moved to the opposite side of him to attach his mouth to my other breast, swirling his tongue around the bud of my nipple.

"I saw people fantasize about fucking you. All of you" it sounded pathetic and hypocritical coming from me because I did the exact same thing before I got with all three of them.

"Bunny, we only have eyes for you." Lando said as he kiss the tip of my nose "But you're still getting punished" with that Lando grabbed me and yanked my body onto his, my back against his chest as he fists his cock a few times before aligning it to my asshole and thrusting up and in my tight hole. A loud cry escaped my lips before Oscars mouth found mine drowning out the noise. I felt the cushion of the bed dip before feeling a tap on my face, I opened it to see Logan cock right next to my face.

My mouth instinctively opened and took his cock in, moaning at the taste of his precum on my tongue. Logan started to thrust his cock in my mouth at a pace that had drool running down my chin in no time. The sound of me choking on Logans cock and skin to skin contact from Lando's painfully rough thrusts was all that filled the room. Oscar soon joined the party as he shoved his cock into my cunt with no warning which caused me to pull my mouth away from Logan cock to let out an unexpected screech.

"I didn't say you could stop sucking my cock, now did I?" Logan said as he gripped my face and shoved his cock back in my mouth, this time he fucked my face with so much force I thought I was fucking a different guy.

Soon enough after everyones strokes and pace matched, I knew I was one step closer to the edge and I was about to break (pls get the linkin park reference) . I felt the coil in the stomach tighten and my orgasm was finally about to wash over me tonight.

As if they all read my mind or just knew my body, the all simultaneously pulled out and left me nothing.

"No!" I cried at the empty feeling washing over my body, it all felt like sudden coldness.

"You didn't think we were letting you off the hook that easily did you?" Lando's tone mocking as he ordered "Go up against the headboard"

I did as I was told knowing there was no point in fighting them. Once I was against the board, I watched Lando as he grabbed what he went to his room for: A blindfold, rope and one singular feather.

Lando tossed the rope to Oscar who immediately started tying my wrists to the bedposts and threw the blindfold to Logan who eagerly took it out the packaging and on my face.

The room fell silent for about a minute after I was tied up, no one moved, no one talked. I felt the bed dip and the movement caused my whole body to tense, soon after I felt the feather being dragged up my thigh to my stomach before feeling it swirl around my nipples. A mix of moans, groans, and "fuck"s all left my mouth as I felt my orgasm creeping closer.

"Baby, I'm going to fuck you now, okay?" Oscar said before he aligned himself with the entrance of my cunt before sliding in with ease, his thrusts started off slow and sensual, allowing me to adjust to his size before his thrust became rough and erratic.

Oscar wasn't the only one eager to get his dick wet because I felt a thumb tap my bottom lip, signaling me to open it before I felt a cock brush past my lips. Based on his thrust in my mouth, I could tell it was Lando's cock that I was currently sucking, his pace relentless.

Oscar's hips started stuttering against my body as his thrusts slowed and I knew he was close to his orgasm. One thing about Oscar is that when he cums, he never wants to do it alone which means I'm finally about to get my release that's been eluding me all night.

Oscar abruptly pulled his cock out of me leaving me empty and orgasmless again, my disappointment didn't last long because as fast as Oscar pulled out Logan just as fast attached his mouth to my clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud bringing me close to my orgasm, which I was fully prepared to not have again.

Much to my surprise Logan didn't stop which prompted me to wrap my legs around his head making sure he couldn't go anywhere as he pushed me off the edge and I came with a loud strings of cursing and chants of 'Logan' leaving my mouth as my body shuddered and my legs squeezed around Logan head. I felt him moan against my vagina which made my body jerk upward at the vibrations.

Soon after I came down from my high, I felt a strong pair of hands yanking my legs apart before feeling Logan because torn away from my pussy.

"You shouldn't have done that Logan" Lando whispered in his ear.

------

y'all- if there's typos or a part doesn't make sense its because I'm sleepy. I wanted to put something out because I haven't in like 3 days or something like that and I felt bad.

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @eddieharrington @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii

[nanamineedstherapy]

TikTok Warfare in the Polycule

F!Pregnant Reader x Gojo Satoru x Nanami Kento

Previous Oneshot Chapter [Tumblr/Ao3] | Main Series [Tumblr/Ao3]

A/N: Listen. Gojo would 100% weaponize TikTok algorithms to win an argument. Nanami would simply document the war crimes. Enjoy this descent into chaos. (No spoilers but someone does get pancake privileges revoked.)

Gojo was scrolling on his phone when the TikTok arrived. "If your baby daddy doesn’t instinctively protect your belly in public, you’re better off alone."

His eyes narrowed.

You walked by, adjusting a bag over your shoulder.

Gojo’s hand twitched.

Then: "Satoru."

He sat up. "Yeah, baby?"

"I need to go to the store."

Gojo’s pupils darkened. "You do?"

"Mm-hmm."

Five minutes later, he was pressed against your back in the middle of the grocery store, practically circling you like a guard dog.

His phone buzzed.

Group Chat: Dad Crimes 💀 (Anon)

Father Time: Did you just follow her to the store?

Daddy: Protecting the baby.

Father Time: Sure.

Daddy: She’s not mad anymore tho

Father Time: That’s what you think.

---

Operation: Keep the Pregnant Alive

Nanami knew something was wrong when Gojo smiled at him.

Not the usual lazy smirk. Not the smug, sunshine-drenched grin he used to get out of murder charges or speeding tickets. No. This one had teeth.

Gojo tossed his phone onto the coffee table, then sprawled across the couch, limbs wide open like a trap. His sunglasses had slipped halfway down his nose. His eyes glinted. “It’s time,” he said, voice too calm.

Nanami didn’t even look up from his newspaper. “For what?”

“Revenge.”

Nanami turned the page. “What did Haibara do now?”

“Ah! Not him. Baby.”

“What did our wife do now?”

“She fell asleep under the dining table.”

Nanami raised a brow in his direction, his grip tightening imperceptibly on the paper. “Again?”

“She took the video of me trying to wake her up from the home security footage, edited and posted it with an AI voiceover saying, ‘When your husband thinks you respect him but you’re actually a raccoon with a PLC.’”

Gojo’s eye twitched. “Ten million views and growing. I’m in a meme compilation.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s tired these days, Satoru.” The unspoken ‘She’s growing two whole humans with powers nothing like before, you idiot’  hung between them.

“She’s winning.” Gojo leaned forward. “We flip the script.”

Nanami stared. “You want to TikTok her back?”

“No.” Gojo grinned like the devil himself. “I want to psychologically dismantle her using excessive care until she implodes.”

Nanami sighed. “You’re stupid.”

Gojo’s grin widened. “So is she.”

Phase One: Comfort Is A Weapon

You were waiting for your coffee, scrolling on your phone, when your husband’s text came in:

Kento: Hope you're comfortable.

You: Why the hell would I not be?

Satoru: Because you’re not leaving that couch today.

You didn’t even have time to glare at your screen before Gojo waltzed in. Shirtless. Damp from a shower. Gray sweatpants. No shame.

He leaned on the doorway like he’d been cast in a thirst trap film.

Behind him, Nanami followed—sleeves rolled, jaw tense, that look he got when he was two seconds from calling Shoko for backup.

“What the hell is going on?” You asked, already suspicious.

“We’re taking care of you,” Gojo said sweetly.

Nanami unfolded a plush blanket with all the grace of a crime scene investigator. “Sit.”

You frowned. “No.”

Gojo tilted his head. “Do you want Shoko to get involved? Because I will FaceTime her right now.”

You narrowed your eyes, teeth gritted. “I will bite both of you.”

Gojo smirked. “Kinky.”

Nanami sighed. “Just sit.”

You plopped onto the couch like a petulant goblin, muttering the entire time. The warmth seeped into your aching back almost immediately. Traitors.

Phase Two: Pharmaceutical Warfare

Nanami brought over a vitamin packet like it was a weaponized dossier. “You’re iron-deficient,” he said flatly.

“I’m not,” you lied. “I had spinach.”

“When?” Nanami asked.

“...in college.”

Gojo appeared from behind with a smug look and a footstool. “Feet up.”

You resisted. He raised a brow. “Do you want to argue with a man in sweatpants?”

Reluctantly, you complied.

Gojo leaned in, dangerously close. “You’re sweating right now, aren’t you?”

You deadpanned. “No.”

He smiled. “You just twitched.”

You shoved his face away. “Shut up.”

Phase Three: TikTok Retaliation

The next day, a TikTok dropped, "If your girl isn’t drinking water, it’s your responsibility to hydrate her—by force if necessary."

You watched the video in horror. Nanami appeared in the kitchen doorway. Holding a glass. “Drink.”

“No.”

“Drink.”

“No.”

Gojo suddenly materialized behind you like a damn wraith. “Perhaps juice?”

“I want to be left alone.”

“Hydration first.” Then, with intense menace, Gojo whispered, “If you don’t drink this water, I will strap you to all the pregnancy pillows. Publicly.”

Nanami added, “We will post it.”

You grabbed the water and chugged it like it was vodka.

Gojo smirked, leaning dangerously close to your face. “Thirsty.”

You flipped him off.

Phase Four: The Food Trap

You woke up at 3AM to Nanami looming like a culinary ghost with a tray. “Breakfast,” he said. Toast. Yogurt. Fruit. Organized like he was seducing you via glycemic index.

“I didn’t ask—”

“You don’t ask. You survive.”

You reached for the toast while glaring.

Then chewed in righteous judgment. “When will you go back to work?”

Phase Five: Breakdown or Performance Art?

They cornered you in the kitchen.

Gojo grinned. “Admit it.”

“No.”

“You like it.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

You sniffed.

Nanami looked up.

Gojo panicked. “Oh no.”

“I hate you both!” You wailed. Tears streamed. Beautiful. Oscar-worthy.

Nanami’s tone softened. “What do you need?”

You hiccupped. “Pancakes. With the 85% dark chocolate-covered strawberries. And whipped cream.”

Silence.

Gojo blinked. “...You’re not even sad, are you.”

“I might be.”

“You’re faking this.”

“I’m hungry.”

Nanami sighed.

You leaned into Nanami. “I want him to make the pancakes, Kento. Make him.”

Gojo grinned. “You want me to cook shirtless?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I want you to not burn the strawberries this time.”

“If you let me touch your boobs, I won’t.”

You walked away from Nanami’s arm and returned with his old blade and raised it to Gojo’s pecs. “You were saying?”

Final Score

You—4 (for lies, drama, violence, and thirst)

Nanami and Gojo—2 (for effort, execution, and forearms)

New TikTok: 🎵 "My husbands think they’re in control… until I start crying about pancakes."

Cut to Gojo flipping them. Shirtless. Nanami plating them with surgical precision.

Caption: "Wife: unwell. Husbands: worse."

---

A/N: If you laughed, screamed, or now fear Nanami’s vitamin distribution system, tell me in the comments. (Gojo’s ego needs the engagement.)

Previous Oneshot Chapter [Tumblr/Ao3] | Main Series [Tumblr/Ao3]

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All Works Masterlist

Beta - @blackrimmedrose

[hannahluvsbillie]

was it ever casual?

part 1

✮ pairing : billie eilish x reader

✮ cw: nothing too heavy, angst (kind of)

ᡣ𐭩 a/n: sorry for the wait!! my tumblr hasn’t been letting me post anything! but we’re here now and that’s all that matters. thank you sm for all the love on part one, it means everything to hear you like my writing 🥺🥺

the rain pitter patters on the window of billie’s car, it was pitch black with the exception of a few small streetlights in the empty parking lot.

it was damn near silent in the car, only the sounds of soft music playing were heard.

at least it was, until you got a notification.

you pick up your phone from the console, seeing a text from some random person you gave your number to at a party last week because he wouldn’t stop bugging you.

“hey, wanna meet up soon? still in la for the week.”

the text read.

billie’s eyes glance over at your phone, out of your peripheral vision you see her brows furrow at the message.

your eyes dart to billie, and you immediately put your phone down. not wanting her to see the message.

this just makes her brows furrow further, and her face contort a little.

“who’s that?” she asks, her voice stern. the hand that was once on your thigh moves back to her own, silently telling you she’s suspicious.

“don’t worry about it.” you say, glancing over at her and putting your phone under your thigh. you didn’t intent to mock her statement from the last meet up you had, but it just came out.

these past few times you’ve hung out with her, you’ve been noticing the abundance of notifications she gets while you’re together. you try to comfort yourself by saying it’s just her friends, or her family blowing up her phone. but you know, you know it’s other girls.

“im worried about it, who else is talking to my girl?” she states, the smallest hint of playfulness in her voice.

“my girl.” the nickname always seemed to find its way into her words while she was with you, but the once meaningful nickname that used to give you butterflies has lost meaning. how many other girls does she call “my girl” ?

you look away, you find yourself feeling annoyed at her words. she does the same shit to you, so why should she be mad about it?

“it’s not like we’re dating.” you say, glancing over at her only to see her brows raised at your comment. you were never this feisty with her, what did she do?

she moves her head just enough to look into your eyes, her brows still raised in surprise. “yeah, we aren’t. but i wanna know if my girl’s talking to someone else.” she says coldly.

your brows raise, matching her expression. you shake your head in disbelief, how could she be so dismissive?

“billie, you do the same fucking thing.” you say, your voice seems to have lost that soft, sweet, gentle tone it regularly has when you speak to billie.

“that’s- that’s different ma.” she says, feeling like she’d just been called out on her bullshit.

you shake your head once again, your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“how is that any different? they blow up your phone constantly and when i ask you about it you brush me off.” you say softly, turning your head to meet her gaze.

she rolls her eyes at your response, starting to get agitated with you.

“because you’re my girl y/n. no one else’s.” she says, her eyes shooting darts into yours.

that doesn’t sound very causal, but to hell with causal at this point.

“i wish i could say that about you billie.” you say, shooting her a glare.

“oh my god- baby. we’ve been through this a million times. they don’t mean anything to me.” she says, her voice starting to get more cold by the second. how could she just lie to you like that?

you turn to face her, you can’t hold back anymore.

“bullshit.” you say coldly, her eyebrows raise in response.

“if i meant anything to you i wouldn’t be sitting in your car at 1 in the morning- let alone letting you eat me out in your car, or only meeting with you in secluded places, or the fact you won’t text me back for a week. it’s like im only here when your bored.” you ramble, finally letting your feelings spill out. it felt nice to call her out, even though you knew she wouldn’t tell the truth.

“baby- y/n- you know damn well it’s not like that.” she says, looking at you with furrowed brows.

in all honesty, billie didn’t know you felt like that. so what she’d talk to other girls, you were still the one she saw the most.

“so what is it then?” you ask sharply, furrowing your brows at her. you had to swallow the lump that was forming in your throat.

she looks away, trying to think of a way to possibly answer that question.

“we’re just- a casual thing y/n, don’t act like it’s more then that because it’s not.” she says coldly, her response shooting daggers into your heart.

a moment of silence falls between billie and you, neither of you knew what to say, or what was the right thing to do.

but you knew one thing, you couldn’t keep doing this with her. if that’s how she really feels, then you two aren’t on the same page.

it’s not causal when you look at her like she hung the damn stars every time she speaks.

“just- take me home billie.” you say, looking into her eyes. you were so tired of begging for her to choose you. it’s all that you’ve done is beg for her attention this whole- situationship. or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it.

she scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head. her hand went down to the shift and put the car into drive.

“god damn it- fine.”

[themagicalconchshell]

RIGHT IM MAKING A POST ABT THIS NOW

I just woke up to this shit going on in the fandom, and all of it stemmed from a singular emoji created on a private lotf discord server (SHOCKER I KNOW!!! THE CURSE IS REAL AINT IT GUYS!!!). the emoji was a picture of this random guy from a tiktok video dressed in a suit with glasses on with a text above saying "happy new year to my Asian queens only" picture below:

fuckass photo got me laughing HOW WE FIGHTING ABOUT THIS I ACTUALLY CANT

back to the issue at hand, the whole like "gooner piggy" thing i can admit that it originally came from me and Lexi. Lexi originally sent it to the server labelling it as just piggy, nothing of the sort. she just gave the picture. Don't go attacking her, she provided the picture only so leave my goat alone 🙏. Now, I take full responsibility for making the name 'gooner piggy' in the first place, it was just a spark of the moment thing. the whole thing with the word gooner was chosen at the time since I simply thought it was funny, nothing else. I didn't have any malicious intent behind the word, nor any hidden meanings behind it. also, just mentioning that the phrase 'gooner piggy' wasn't talking about him as a child, we were referring to him resembling the guy in the photo, not the man himself. ALSO, I don't know where the whole fatphobic thing came from? if your talking about the fact we said he was a gooner, we said it because the guy in the photo is talking about 'Asian queens only' and it is common in media for Asian people to be idolised for the most simple things. still got no clue about how we are being fatphobic??? I myself am an overweight person and promote being positive about peoples bodies, WHY WOULD I DRAG SOMEONE DOWN FOR THAT???

Now, addressing something about nudity of the boys mentioned in the reblogs of a previous post: this was referring to certain art pieces and shit but ONE incident is very important. this is addressing AKEMII. NO ONE ELSE. anything else was either altered by the ops or by Tumblr taking the stuff down. this whole Akemii thing was them drawing and making prompts on gartic phone of NSFW with the lotf boys. they're are not active anywhere on TikTok anymore and have deleted EVERYTHING on their 2 accounts. no one needs to worry about them or the other people involved anymore because they have now separated themselves completely away from the fandom. that was just to clear that up because we have confused people out there. there's more but I don't have any idea on those situations. just go lurking on TikTok and you'll find shit on that.

this whole argument spawned overnight and is so tiring, I've been looking over posts about this whole ordeal and I just have a question, why are we even arguing about this in the first place? there are BIGGER issues, we have people in the fandom that drew NSFW of the kids (on tiktok, not here but non the less its the same fandom) and yet we are all worrying about THIS??? this fandom is a pisstake I can tell you that. drama over drama every time and it'll never stop, its a damn cycle. one year in this fucking fandom and all I've seen is drama. this fandom has been alive for what, like 3 decades and yet we never change.

in summary, the name gooner piggy came from me, the photo came from Lexi. no malicious intent was behind the name, we don't think the guy in the photo actually is piggy we just said that it resembled the mf, and we changed the name of the bloody emoji yesterday (not me though, because I woke up to this argument on my front door mate) from 'gooner piggy' to 'drip piggy'. Its been changed, there shouldn't really be anything more coming from this all now. this was a post to clear everything up.

I WILL be taking a break from this fuckass fandom idk how long for but I'm still going to be active. I just wont be posting shit abt lotf. this is getting out of damn hand

@s4int0fthep1t @doublefart

[tragic-ships-tournament]

HOLY SHIT TIME FOR THE SEMI FINALS

The quarter finals are wrapped up now, and now it's finally time to determine the winners of both brackets. As you know, both winners of the brackets will be facing head to head in the finals in a week long brutal brawl-

But we're not talking about that right now.

You know the drill, let's get to the highlights.

Today we had 4 eventful rounds, each with their own drama and notable things. Let's start with the easiest one.

Destiel VS Dorian and Basil was in fact, an incredibly clean sweep for Destiel. Oof, sorry Oscar Wilde stans. But we all know that this is Tumblr after all.

Cherik VS Chainshipping. Ah yes, classic Superhero yaoi VS classic horror yaoi. But surprisingly, classic horror yaoi took it!? Really!?!?! I was shocked too, oof.

Oh lord, Enjoltaire VS Madohomu. This was intense. Fierce pushback from both sides as the scores flipflopped the whole entire time. Everyone was pointing to this video by George Blagden, also known as GRANTAIRE IN THE LES MIS MOVIE- which was one of the foundational texts of Enjoltaire as a ship. Fun fact, said video recently hit 1,000,000 views. Go watch it to give it a million more. But alas, we said goodbye to the french revolution gays this round in favor of the timeloop gays.

Okay now, this is the one you've been waiting for. The real tragic event of this round. Janice and Melina VS Orphydice. This matchup alone warrants it's own post. Or maybe an hour long video essay. Saying it was crazy would be an understatement.

Fans from both sides came pouring in. Artists arrived and all offered their support for Orphydice, and gave doodles to those who did the same. But the real sensation here is the Layton fandom all banding together. An out-pour of support rushed in, each giving their reasons why their tragic yuri should win.

leading the charge was @layton-heritage-posts, stopping at no point to continuously reblog and divert the undecided to their cause. They even rbed on all their different sideblogs in an abuse of power (which i support btw, go get your bread)

And right there with them was @darklight-owl, who even made a discord server (which you should totally join btw) just to get a watch party of The Eternal Diva.

Even I found myself rooting for the Eternal Divas. I reblogged the post, saying that if they were to win I would watch the full movie myself. Spoiler alert I did not.

On the other side there was the return of @hercarisntyours, here to take revenge for what Janice and Melina did to Oplita in the first round, putting out propaganda left and right.

And in lieu of the tournament, the Hadestown socials confirmed a proshot being filmed on the West End with the original cast as their own form of propaganda! Just for the tournament! Not for any other reason! (Anaïs Mitchell if you're reading this I would make a great Orpheus pls)

The two sides fought valiantly over 3 long days.

But in the end, as the dust settled, there was only one winner. Taking the victory by 0.1%, was none other than Orphydice. Guess it's Janice and Melina's turn to look back.

...Annyyywaayyyyyy crazy matchups aside, let's get to our bracket! :D

Feast your eyes, reader. This right here is the final ass full bracket for the Tragic Ships Tournament. God, it's been a long long tournament. I'll save the sappy stuff for the semi final wrap up post, but now it's the final stretch to determine once and for all... What is the ultimate tragic ship?

Semi Finals will be posted February Third at 8:00 AM EST. Be there or be square.

[ihrthoney]

love isn’t enough

pairing: club owner ran haitani x f!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort

word count: 1.5k

an: first post being back on tumblr! this is a remake of my old work from my old blog!

Ignorance truly is bliss…

but only if you’re stupid.

It was obvious, the signs were as clear as day. Although, love was always so blinding. While you were watching the clouds and enjoying the summer breeze, his eyes followed the birds flying in the other direction. 

There weren’t any lipstick stains on his clothes nor did he stay out later than normal. If there was a faint scent of perfume following him as he walked towards the shower, you brushed it off. Clubs are always full of people, some scents are just stronger than most. 

That’s what you would've continued telling yourself had it not been a smell you learned to get used to. Every night that he came home from work, he smelled vaguely of that same perfume. It could be a regular or a worker who walks past him throughout the night.

You weren’t stupid. As much as you wished you were, you weren’t. 

The perfume wasn’t the only thing you caught on to. Unfortunately, it took weeks for the smell to become something you’ve recognized or rather, something you chose to accept.

Just last week, Ran was off and you guys decided to spend the day in bed and binging shows. That night, you surprised Ran by renting a movie he wanted to see for a while but missed because of work. During the most interesting part, he got a call and usually, he ignored the noise but this time he didn’t hesitate to grab his phone and leave the room. 

You couldn’t remember the last time a work call lasted two hours. While the contact name on the screen said Rindou, you knew better than to believe it. 

He clearly knew how to cover his tracks, his behavior didn’t change, not drastically anyway. His phone didn’t suddenly have a password nor did he try to hide who he was texting. Just like you, he wasn’t an idiot. But as time went on, he must’ve mistook you for one.

You and Ran had been dating since you guys were 18. There’s nothing you don’t know about him, you know him better than yourself sometimes. Any changes in his behavior you notice immediately, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. 

Despite everything pointing to the tragic truth that Ran was having an affair, you were waiting for him to admit it. It felt unfair to break it off and be left uneven while he was already filling the void.

Years of your life had been devoted to him, you supported him with everything you could give. From cleaning his wounds after gang fights to watching his (and his brothers’) club succeed.

Would there have been a hole in his heart if you left? When did he stop loving you? Why couldn’t he have just broken it off? 

Endless questions were filling your head. It’s been about 3 months since you noticed the perfume. The denial gets harder to run from, reality starts to slowly consume you. 

You wouldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in it now, so instead of wallowing away in the empty house you got dressed and ventured into town. 

Of course, it didn’t help in the slightest; everything reminded you of Ran, and the realization that your relationship was coming to an end hurt so much. You walk the streets alone and are reminded of the night of your first date. Hands intertwined, leaning on his shoulder and laughing about something you could no longer remember, you stared at him like he just offered you the world.

“You’re nothing like they say Ran Haitani.” You laughed, you guys are hand in hand, your apartment just a few blocks down.

“What? Am I even more handsome in person?” He says smugly, only half joking.

At that comment, you drop his hand, “Never mind, you’re exactly as they said.” you jokingly say.

“Nah, I’m even better.” Ran remarks. Using your linked hands, he pulls you both to a stop. 

He looks at you for a little bit, the sound of cars faint in the background, and the moonlight softly reflects on his face, “You are so beautiful.”

His voice was so soft, so gentle. As flustered as you were at the compliment, you couldn’t pull your eyes from his.

“I had a really good time with you tonight, yn.” His hand parts from yours and softly cradles your face.

“May I?” At that moment, you would’ve given him anything he could’ve possibly wanted.

You nod in response and he wastes no time in connecting your lips. 

You were so caught up in the memory that you didn’t see the person in front of you. The woman slightly stumbles at your shoulders making contact. You open your mouth, apology at the tip of your tongue when you notice a man next to her.

Suddenly, the world went quiet. The coffee shop you had entered was nothing but a blur as your vision zones onto the man holding the woman’s waist. 

His eyes widen at the sight of you. He was supposed to be at work.

Before an excuse could even form, you turned around and walked straight back home, not daring to look back. 

He was having an affair. There wasn’t enough time to analyze the woman he was with, your mind was too busy swallowing the confirmed suspicions. 

You knew he was cheating, but a small part of you had foolishly clung to the hope that it was just a misunderstanding. Several emotions coursed through your body at once, millions of thoughts raced through your head. Yet, you couldn’t feel a thing. 

So many scenarios played out in your head that you thought you would feel angrier, burn his clothes, and trash the house. But, you couldn’t move a single limb. Instead, you sat quietly on the couch, the apartment dark and even emptier than you left it despite nothing being touched.

There’s a soft click that brings you out of your daze. You hear him take off his shoes and walk towards the living room. With every step, your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

The dread makes your stomach sink, suddenly you feel nauseous. You’re scared, you’re so fucking scared, this wasn’t supposed to be the end. Years of your life will be nothing but a memory and he’ll be someone you have to remember longer than you’ve known.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Ran sitting on a chair at the dining table. 

Without looking at him, you speak. “You’re a coward.” 

There was so much you wanted to say, even more to ask, but the only emotion you could feel was anger. 

“I know.” He said it so quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter the tension in the air.

You waited to see if he would say more, but he didn’t. The silence was deafening as if the apartment was absent of any soul. 

Swallowing your pride, you spoke up again, “Why didn’t you just break up with me.” 

Ran answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“I deserve better than an “I don’t know”, Ran.” You argued, gaze moving from the tv screen.

For the first time in months, you see him. This wasn’t the man you fell in love with, but rather the shell of him.

Cruelly, he says, “You deserve everything.” 

The tears were starting to burn your eyes, he didn’t deserve your tears, “Don’t, Ran.”

“There’s nothing that I could say that’ll make any of this better. I cheated on you.”

The tension in the air snapped, and your tears started to spill over despite fighting to hold them back. You knew; you saw it with your own eyes, but to hear him actually admit it hurt that much more. There’s no coming back from this, the man you love no longer loves you. 

“How long?” The eye contact between you two never falters. 

“Four months.”

He had been out with another woman for four months. It makes you sick to know he still came back home. You can’t help that sob that chokes out, “Why Ran?”

Ran stands up at the sound of you crying, but you move from the couch and step deeper into the living room. 

“I didn’t want to live without you.” He admits.

At this point you’re sobbing, “That’s so fucking stupid!”

“I don’t love you anymore, yn. But I didn’t know how to let you go. You’ve been in my life since we were 18. I doubt we could’ve been friends-” You interrupt him.

“That’s so unfair! You don’t get to make that choice for me! Maybe you’re right, we probably wouldn’t have been able to be friends after everything but cheating was your next option?” He’s silent at that.

The silence doesn’t last long though, “Get out, Ran.”

There’s so much you want to know, though, your heart wouldn’t be able to handle any more pain. 

Without another word, he turns and walks to the door, taking half of your heart with him.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[chloessleepystories]

Rabbit Hole

Based on a true story

Zoe was slumped down in the back row of the classroom, scrolling through Tumblr on her phone instead of paying attention to the teacher. Like usual.

Oh, here’s a sexy picture to share. Here’s a gif to attach a few lines of dialogue to… She liked teasing the boys (and girls) online, and they liked teasing her. Especially when she was in class and couldn’t do anything about her rising horniness.

Oooh, a hypno story, her favorite. She checked that the teacher was droning on, and not looking her direction, and started reading. Just a couple paragraphs in, she knew it was a good one. She reblogged it to finish reading later, and to share it with her followers (her many, many followers… how had that happened?) and kept scrolling. Ooh! A spiral! Don’t get distracted… But uunnnfff, so easy to get distracted… to get drawn in…

She shook herself, sharing the spiral with a drooling smiley face, and moved on.

“I’m a little concerned, looking at your last batch of papers, that so many of you got to college without apparently learning how to punctuate a simple compound sentence, much less to fill it with original thoughts…” Miss Thompson was saying.

Zoe squeezed her thighs together, feeling the arousal spread through her body. She looked around. Nobody looking. Good. She knew she should be listening, should be taking notes, but all she could think about was her needy pussy.

The constant alerts from her phone kept drawing her back to the glowing rectangle in her hand. BUZZ. Another favorite blog had just shared something, Tumblr wanted her to know. BUZZ. Someone was tagging her in a pic of one of her favorite porn stars. BUZZ… 

She was powerless. She had to look, every time the phone buzzed. Every time Tumblr fed her more. She didn’t used to be like this, did she? She used to have, like, an attention span and stuff? Could leave her phone alone for a few hours? Now she was addicted… like she had conditioned herself to salivate at the buzzer. 

Or been conditioned, came a whisper. 

Been brainwashed. 

Cuntwashed.

Drippy cunt. Salivating pussy…

BUZZ. 

Ooh! a hot little gif that someone wanted her to see – “wanna ride me like this?” he asked, adding Zoe’s handle. Where was the teacher? Zoe knew she should scan for Miss Thompson again, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

BUZZ BUZZ. Three more guys wanting to talk to her privately. She was already keeping four conversations going…

This one, for instance, was telling her, in detail, what he would be doing to her if they were in a hotel room together right now. She was giving as well as she was getting, egging him on, hoping he was stroking to her words the way she wished she could be rubbing to his. This one was begging her to punish him, and reveling in her attempts to be domineering. And this one… oh, this one kept sending spirals, and inductive texts, drawing her ever downward (or trying to), making her sleepy, making her horny… making her a mindnumbed cockslave…

She tapped the little pencil symbol to make a public post.

“You guys are making me so horny!!!” she typed.

I’m supposed to be paying attention to the teacher right now but my tumblr feed is full of porn and 3 of you fuckers are having hot conversations with me trying to make me horny and IT’S FUCKING WORKING I’m sure my neighbors can smell me I’m so turned on I can feel how drippy I am goddammit I need to stroke I’m not gonna make it

That was a mistake, of course. As she knew it would be. The sharks smelled blood in the water, and circled.

“Just keep watching little slave. Soon you’ll be my little cock hungry whore”

“It’s just so nice to be able to turn off your brain for a while, ya know? Join me?”

“And when I say “horny bunny” you’ll have a powerful urge…”

“Mmm damn what a view! Your nice tight pussy wrapped around my cock feels so damn good. I’m going to enjoy fucking you hard, bottoming out hitting your womb”

“��And then one day you wake up and you’re an empty headed pink bimbo, with no thoughts in your dumb bimbo head but getting bigger tits and pleasing your Mistress’s pussy…”

Another public post:

Ogod now ur all piling on cumming our of the woodwork why csnt i turn off this app why do i keep lookin im not gonna make it im such a dumb hotny cow 

Sent.

And back to messaging, the words pummeling her brain –

Blank. Obedient. Responsive. Counting from 10. Letting your mind slide away. Relaxed. Empty. No thoughts. 8. Letting go….

Then, even before she could register the shadow over her desk, a hand snatched the phone from her fingers.

“You know the rules about phones in my class, Zoe,” said Miss Thompson. Zoe made a choked whimper, her fingers mindlessly twitching after the phone.

“You can get it back later. If you’re good.”

If you’re good. If you’re a good girl. Good girls obey.

Zoe whimpered again, as Miss Thompson walked away. She was going to have to sprint to the ladies’ room when class was over. The phone would have to wait. Her clit was throbbing… and she needed to obey.

*****

Later, after everyone had filed out, Miss Thompson carefully and (BUZZ) meticulously wiped clean the blackboard. She liked the board to be as neat (BUZZ) and tidy as her desk.

(BUZZ)

What on earth was – Oh. Right. That girl’s phone was still on the desk. Vibrating away, for some unknown reason.

She sat down and picked it up, turning it on. Silly child didn’t seem to have a lock on the –

A rainbow of porn leapt out of the screen and slapped Miss Thompson about the face.

Cocks going into young women’s mouths. A girl’s tongue on a pussy. “Zoe, are you still there?” Breasts, so many breasts. “Zoe, girl, look how hard you made me…” A maelstrom of dark and light flesh that she couldn’t make sense of for a moment, until she saw the caption “gangbanged fuckslut made airtight with BBC”… which, to be frank, didn’t ENTIRELY explain the picture to Miss Thompson, but it let her figure out what some of the shapes were…

Horrified, repulsed, Miss Thompson started scrolling. And couldn’t stop scrolling. Stories of incest and bondage. Lewd photos and gifs, scenes of decadence and degradation. She shook her head, her mouth open, but she couldn’t stop…

And the hypnosis. Over and over in the girl’s feed, the hypnosis! Glassy eyed girls with drooping mouths, baring their breasts… Women with spirals in their eyes, and cocks in their mouths… Flashing gifs with pictures and words, too fast to follow, telling her how she should be, how she must be, how she knew she already was, if she would just admit it to herself… Inductions, and fantasies, and more spirals, and submissive, drooling women, eager to serve cock, to serve pussy, to become slaves to their own needy cunts…

Miss Thompson hadn’t noticed how hard her nipples had gotten. She hadn’t noticed how wet her own cunt was, until she found herself dipping in a finger… She bucked against her hand, but didn’t stop stroking… just kept scrolling… 

Someone calling himself Master of Mystery – except with some of the letters replaced by numbers – BUZZed into a private message. “Getting pretty horny, Zoe? Pretty needy and desperate?”

“No,” she found herself typing. “I mean, no, I’m – I’m not… No.”

“Oh, you certainly sounded pretty desperate to me. You sounded like a little slut who needed permission to cum… A naughty fucktoy who can’t stop touching her princess parts even though she’s not supposed to…”

Miss Thompson bit her lip and with an effort pulled her hand away from her pussy. “I’m not Zoe. I am Miss Thompson, her teacher,” she typed.

She tried to pull herself together.

“And you should keep a civil tongue in your head, young man.”

“Ohhh! Naughty, naughty, teacher… Are you looking through a confiscated phone? And getting TURNED ON by someone else’s Tumblr porn? You are, aren’t you… Go ahead, you can admit it…”

“i” she typed and sent by mistake.

She cursed.

“I will do no such thing. I am… I am putting the phone down now.”

“No you’re not.”

She hesitated. He seemed so sure. She waited, panting.

“You won’t, because you would have already without saying anything. You would have before you got so horny scrolling through her feed.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Because you are horny, aren’t you? All pent-up, tied up in knots…”

“Yes, yes, I am, OK, but there’s nothing wrong with that”

“No, not at all. Tell you what. You seem tense. Let me help you relax. Can we do that?”

“Um”

“Just focus on your shoulders for a second. Feel how tight they are? Tighten them up even more, just for a second. Take a deep breath in. And then let it out, and as you do, feel all the tension go out of your shoulders…”

“what”

“Sshh shh you don’t have to say anything just listen. I’m going to count, and with each number you’re going to release a little tension, and it’s going to turn into warmth… warmth spreading through your body… 

“And then maybe we’ll look at a spiral together for a while… You’ll like that…”

*****

Zoe was feeling SO much better – though her legs were still a little wobbly – as she walked toward the classroom door. She couldn’t believe she’d left her phone behind! She hoped she could get it back quietly, without much fuss. There didn’t seem to be a class in there now. Maybe she could just slip in and grab it?

She eased the door open gently… and then almost dropped her backpack in surprise.

Miss Thompson was sprawled, nearly nude, in her wooden rolling chair! Her skirt was bunched around her middle, panties on the floor, white blouse and bra tangled on her desk. Most surprising of all, one hand was operating Zoe’s phone, and the other hand was operating Miss Thompson’s bushy cunt!

She stepped closer, sliding the backpack gently to the floor. The teacher’s breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy… and sure enough, Zoe could see a spiral on the glowing screen. She tiptoed close enough to read over her shoulder.

You want to watch

To let the spiral suck you in

To let my spiral suck away all resistance

You want to become mindless for me, because it feels so good to stop thinking

Each word you read will bring you pleasure, and each second you spend watching will make you sink deeper and deeper, until you can’t help but obey…

She reached around her teacher’s body, and cupped both breasts at once.

Miss Thompson gasped, and then relaxed with a moan as Zoe began kneading her nipples.

“How are you doing, miss?” she whispered.

“Can’t… Can’t cum. Need to… but don’t… don’t have permission…”

“Mmmm.” Zoe tweaked her nipples, massaging her surprisingly full and warm tits. “I know it’s a lot to handle if you’re not used to it. I’ve been sliding into this rabbit hole a bit at a time for months, so I’ve built up a liiiittle bit of an immunity.” Partially true, anyway. “But my feed and my followers must have hit you like a ton of bricks.” 

Zoe giggled to herself, as her teacher panted.

“Who are you talking to,” Zoe murmured.

“M-Master of Mystery,” Miss Thompson gasped, her back arching.

Ah yes, thought Zoe. Also known as Kevin.

“Tell him I’m here. And ask him what I should do to you.”

“Master…” Miss Thompson typed, and after a moment, responded.

“He says to get on your knees and lick my s-slutty, juicy c… cunt.”

Zoe smiled. “That’s what I was hoping he was going to say,” she murmured as she knelt.

After all, she thought. Good girls obey.

[thetorturedfagdepartment]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Halloween Heartbeat ࿐ྂ

A/N: Hiii!!! First fic + Real post on tumblr :3 I hope you guys enjoy this fic! I took a good amount of time on it and hope to get it to 3 chapters before Halloween ends! Anywho enjoy!!! (Also I put it into grammarly so I hope the spelling and grammar is good…)

Tags: Fluff, Modern Au, Halloween Horror nights, Scare Actor Ellie, Ellie x F Reader, Strangers to Lovers?, Men DNI!!!

Your friends love Halloween Horror Nights! You on the other hand— not so much… You guys had just made it out of a house and god were you panicked… Breathing heavy, hands sweaty, vision a little blurry—

“Hey you okay?” one of your friends says placing their hand on your shoulder causing you to jump. “Damn hey chill— we can leave if you want—“

“No!” You shout cutting them off “I’m good I’ll just wait outside the next one.”

Your friends nod and they head to the next house. They wave you goodbye and you stand outside. You see a sweet treat spot across the house and make your way over. The area was crowded and filled with people in costumes, and scare actors and you just tried to stay calm and ignore it.. until a scare actor with short messy auburn hair came up behind you with a chainsaw, she pulled it and it rumbled. You let out a piercing scream, mixed with some tears. She freezes and sees how panicky you are. She then starts to feel bad causing her to break character.

“Hey, Hey, Hey… it’s fake.” She turns it off and touches the blades “See fake.”

You nod and wipe the tears, you have been filled with so much fear and anxiety since you got here.

“S—sorry… I’m usually not this pathetic.” You chuckle and she shakes her head.

“You’re not pathetic, everyone gets scared..” She smiled, you see her pretty eyes and freckles. Although they were mostly covered by the fake blood she had on. She had baggy jeans and a somewhat white tank top drenched in blood and fake cuts all over her. “I’m Ellie,” she extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie,” you shake her hand and exchange introductions. She was really sweet.

“Actually um— I’m about to start my break how about I meet you in there and buy you a treat?” She says with a warm smile that sends shivers down your spine. You look over and notice your friends have just gotten out of the house.

“I— um—.. oh my friends are back.” You say turning her down.

She seems very upset as you reject her.

“Omg we leave you alone for like 3 minutes and you already get a girl?” One of your friend’s jokes.

“Come onnn, tell us who’s the lady who stole our best friend…” Another one says shaking you gently.

“I’m Ellie, don’t worry guys I’m just about to hand her back. But first I want your number. If that’s okay..?”

You think for a second and nod smiling with a faint blush. You then take out your phone and exchange numbers.

“Heh.. thanks I’ll see you around.” She walks away leaving you with your friends cheering for you getting her number.

—

A few weeks had passed since then, and you and Ellie have begun texting often. She makes you laugh, smile, and blush, every time you guys text its butterflies. She just knows how to make you happy.. Ellie told you what time her shift ended and she had given you some sneaky tickets to come back whenever. You decide maybe it’s time to surprise her..

You get into a cute outfit hoping she’ll like it, even throwing on some makeup… just to give yourself an extra bit of pizazz. You head out the door looking super cute— all just for her.

As you arrive and head into the park, all of the anxiety from a few weeks ago comes right back. The loudness, the people, the scare actors… it’s all just too much. You walk into the gates and brace yourself. Ellie said she's over in the Terror Tram today.. Perfect. Far. You brace yourself, walking through the crowd, and scare zones trying to not cry and pee yourself. One specific actor wouldn’t leave you alone. He chases you through the entire zone. You scream and run quickly but he won’t leave! You end up bumping into someone.

A familiar freckled auburn-haired girl just so happens to be the one you run into…

“Hey, hey.. what’s going on it’s me… w—wait why are you here..?” She tries to calm you down and reassure you, but she’s a bit confused as to why you’re here.

“H—he—he won’t stop chasing me!” You point at the tall man with nice black hair and clown makeup on, who just so happened to have been chasing you with a knife.

“Him? Oh, that’s Jesse.. Jesse!! Get your ass over here!” Ellie calls him over. You then grab her hand and stand next to her.

“Yeah, Elles? Oh look you caught her!” He chuckles. He’s taller, sorta broad, and has medium-length black hair.

“Leave her alone. She’s my — uh…” she blushes and looks away “—friend…”

“Oh, so I’m just a friend now?” You chuckle nudging her.

“Hush.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Ellie’s just a friend. I’m Ellie’s friend Jesse, and that’s Dina another one of our friends.” He points to a pretty girl dressed up as a killer broken doll.

“Friends? You guys broke up again.” Ellie shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

“You know Dina…” Jesse shakes his head.

You seeing Ellie interact with her friend is kinda cute.. it’s a side you had yet to see of her, and now you’re worried you won’t be able to get it out of your head.. after a few moments they start saying bye.

“Well see ya, I’m still on the clock, and apologies for scaring the shit out of you,” Jesse says as he walks off.

“He seems nice, you know not when he acts like he’s gonna kill me…” you say giving her a dorky smile.

“Yeah, now what are you doing here? I told you my shift was over soon remember I was gonna go to your place.” She says shaking her head and letting out some tongue clicks.

“I know!!! I just wanted to surprise you…”

“Hey that’s really cute and sweet but I don’t want you coming here by yourself knowing you’re gonna be scared,” Ellie says giving you a reassuring smile.

“Okay, okay.. fine I won’t do it again.” You then smile back at her.

“Atta girl. Now, I’m off the clock, and its uhhhh 10 pm? How about we go grab some fast food and head back to your place, I’ll get the food and you set up your living room for a fun hangout night, huh?” Ellie smiles, and a cute pink rose tint appears on her freckled cheeks.

You agree and like Ellie says she heads over to grab some burgers, fries, drinks, and a nice ice cream each for you guys. As you wait for her you set up the living room. On your way home you decided to get some Halloween things. Such as cute spooky blankets, some cobwebs, fake pumpkins, and cute little ghost plushies. You dimmed the lights and sat on the couch waiting for her.

Ellie comes in with the food and locks your door back.

“Woahhhh cute.. I really like how you decorated the place. You know, you didn’t need to do all that.” Ellie says setting the food down and handing you, your drink. She shakes her head and chuckles taking a seat next to you.

“Yeah, I know but I wanted to make the living room look all cute..” You blush slightly and grab the food.

“So what is this like a date now?” Ellie says taking a bite of her burger.

“… if you want it to be…” you then look her in the eyes.

“I— um .. w—well yeah…” Ellie blushes feeling a bit flustered and jittery inside. It’s been a while since she had felt this way. Maybe a little too long..?

You nod your head and you guys eat dinner, with a little bit of chit-chatting here and there. You guys finish the burgers and fries and eat your ice cream cuddling on the couch.

Eventually, Ellie clears her throat and brings up the topic of movies.

“Sooo what do you wanna watch pretty girl.”

Pretty girl…

“Uhh I don’t know, I’m not that much into horror so as long as it’s not that I’m fine.” You say taking a lick of your ice cream.

“I should’ve guessed that.. well come on we have to watch something spooky or at least like with mythical creatures!” Ellie nudges you and laughs.

“Okay then..”

You get up and grab a DVD, you then insert it in your PlayStation.

“A DVD? Come on how old are you 40?” Ellie says with a stupid snort-laugh.

You then play your DVD and Ellie has no clue what you put on.

“Soooo what did you choose?”

“You’ll see…”

“I swear to god if it’s stupid I’m literally gonna murder you.. this time with a real chainsaw.” Ellie groans and you guys finish your ice creams and lay back.

Then the intro rolls in.

“You’re fucking kidding me right..? Twilight.” Ellie groans, rubbing her face, and shoves you off of her.

“Come on what’s so bad with Twilight!” You then scoot back over and flick her nose causing it to scrunch.

“It’s corny! I always cringe! I mean the plot is good it’s just cringe all right!!” Ellie whines but soon she sucks it up for your sake.

As the movie plays Ellie makes some snobby jokes and you just bounce back. About halfway through the movie she just stares at you…

You feel her gaze and look at her. Causing her to look away, a soft blush appears on her and you giggle. Butterflies sent straight to her stomach. You don’t stop staring… you keep looking at her. She’s beautiful, how has no one already swooped her off her feet…? God you wanna kiss her— what..?

“Uh— you’re … missing the best part…” Ellie says clearing her throat and still blushing like a dork.

“I’ve seen it 1000 times… Ellie I—“ You then lean in for a kiss.

Ellie’s eyes widen as her lips press yours. She places a hand on the side of your cheek leaning towards you gently kissing you. Your hands wrap around her waist as you guys cuddle while you kiss. The kiss is long and gentle.

The kiss finally breaks and a tiny piece of salvia strings between you two. Ellie chuckles wiping her lips.

“You’re so cute..” she says smiling like a dork.

“Yeah… right back at you.”

You have no regrets about going to that stupid amusement park a few weeks ago now.

Read part 2 here!

[writeriguess]

Hi everyone 💛

First off, I’m really sorry for the complete silence with posting over the past two days — and especially for not getting back to messages or asks for the past week and a half. I know many of you reached out expecting an immediate reply, and I truly appreciate your patience. While I’m not able to respond to everything just yet (there’s quite a lot to go through and I can't steal my sister's phone for hours so I could go through them all), please know I’ve seen them, I’ll be reading each one carefully, and I will get back to everyone as soon as I’m able. I didn’t mean to just disappear — things took an unexpected turn.

Last week Wednesday, I had a flare-up of my chronic pain condition during an extra shift I picked up (trying to earn a bit more ahead of an upcoming vacation). Unfortunately, instead of finishing the shift, I ended up being admitted to the hospital. Because my condition carries a higher risk of stroke, the doctors decided to monitor me closely.

Right now, I’m stable and doing okay — just deeply fatigued, which they’re still keeping an eye on. The exhaustion has been stubborn, and an MRI revealed some abnormalities that might suggest an increased stroke risk. I’ve been started on preventive medication, and so far, things are looking cautiously optimistic. If all continues to improve, I’m hopeful that I’ll be discharged sometime next week.

For a bit of background: I had a minor stroke about seven years ago. Thankfully, it didn’t cause major damage, but it did leave a few lingering effects — like reduced strength in the toes of my left foot. Given that history, my care team is being extra cautious this time, and honestly, I’m so grateful for that.

To make matters even more chaotic: Tumblr decided to have one of those weeks. I had a queue scheduled through September, but due to a recurring glitch I’ve dealt with before, absolutely nothing has posted. So if my blog’s been unusually quiet lately, that’s why — I promise I haven’t ghosted anyone! I’ve just been dealing with a hospital stay and a tech failure. I’ll be reaching out to Tumblr Support about it once I’m home and back on my feet.

And here’s where I give the biggest shoutout to my amazing sister, Nyla 💛 She saw my blog stopped posting (she follows me here — sharp-eyed as ever), and came to the rescue by lending me her phone so I could finally check in. My own phone is basically an ancient fossil — it can barely handle texts, let alone Tumblr. So seriously, please send all your love to Nyla — she’s been an absolute hero this week.

There is a bit of unexpected good news in all this: my boss — who truly deserves a medal and unlimited coffee — told me I won’t need to make up the hours I’ve missed during my hospital stay. Normally, that would mean postponing my vacation or picking up extra shifts later. But since I’d already been working additional hours and have a solid track record, he’s covering for me and paying my full salary. Which means: vacation technically started early! Not exactly the kickoff I had in mind, but hey — silver linings.

I’m really hoping to be home and back to my usual rhythm next week. I’ve missed being here so much — sharing stories, talking with you all, just being part of this space. Your support, kindness, and patience mean more than I can put into words.

In the meantime: please take care of yourselves, drink some water, check in on your friends, and don’t forget to send a little extra love to Nyla for being the MVP of the week 💛

I have to give her phone back now, but talk soon.

[catherine-clover]

The longest list of anti-endo sources I've ever seen

While trying to find something else using Tumblr's infamous search engine, I came across this absolute gem:

NINE SOURCES!!! That's a record!! This is incredible!

@radpocalypse, listen. I am about to tear these to shreds, but before I do, I want you to know that you have my respect for not only compiling the longest list of sources I have ever seen an anti-endo provide, and not only doing so seemingly not directly prompted, but typing out every single link by hand, on mobile, without making a single mistake. Incredible work.

And also, to be completely honest, if I had nine sources supporting a belief, I almost certainly wouldn't look into them this closely. But, hey, that's what strangers on the internet with opposing views are for.

One more thing before the debunk: Endogenic systems do not claim to have DID etc. without trauma. They just don't. Whether it could be possible is often debated as an edge case, usually just to win an argument against someone of the opposing side, but really, it's irrelevant for 99% of the community. A good chunk are questioning OSDD based on later trauma, but as far as I am aware, no one on this website is claiming a completely endogenic plural disorder.

However, I don't want to dismiss entire pages based on this alone without further commentary, and it's a fun intellectual exercise regardless. So, whenever I use green text, I'm just playing Devil's Advocate under the premise of "If I was claiming to have DID without trauma (which neither I nor anyone else afaik is), would this source actually debunk that claim?" My syster will also occasionally pop in with purple, since she was cocon while I was writing this.

My dad just walked into my room and literally said "hey how it's going". You know, like. Like that one post. Amazing.

Anyway, civility established. Now come along with me on this long long journey of ten minutes of reading. Maybe put some music on in the background, if that will help you get through it. I had Near's Theme on while writing.

Here we go.

Link 1: McLean Hospital

Ok, main thing that caught my eye was

According to a 2010 Psychiatric Times article, only 5% of people with DID exhibit obvious switching between identity “states.”

Very interesting! Even with all of the "idk who's fronting" memes, 5% is really not that high. Though maybe online spaces like these help train the ability to identify it? The reference trail leads back to a book by Kluft but I don't really feel like going through dozens of pages for this. Definitely making a note of this though; I wonder if there have been any follow-up studies on this.

Not much to say here other than that. No mention of plurality outside DID.

DID is associated with long-term exposure to trauma, often chronic traumatic experiences during early childhood.

Dissociation—or disconnection from one’s sense of self or environment—can be a response to trauma.

Dissociative identity disorder—a type of dissociative disorder—most often develops during early childhood in kids who are experiencing long-term trauma. This typically involves emotional, physical, and/or sexual abuse; neglect; and highly unpredictable interactions with caregivers.

Why "associated", not "is caused by"? Why "can", not "is"? Why "most often", etc.?

Why such weak language?

Not that it couldn't be weaker.

I vaguely remember McLean getting into some hot water regarding a video they posted about DID, but didn't find anything concrete. Half-remembered anecdote aside, the author seems well-qualified.

C-tier debunk of this position. It's not nothing but it could be a lot better.

Link 2: Psych Central

It occurs in women 9 times more often than in men.

Very interesting statistic, but no citation provided.

Alters can show striking differences. For instance, one alter may speak with a different accent or have a softer way of speaking. They might have different opinions or a different gender identity, and even physical differences — like left- or right-handedness, or the need for a glasses prescription.

That's quite a stark difference here compared to the McLean article. What happened to "alters aren't that noticeable"?

But whatever, these are just interesting tidbits. None of this has anything to do with endogenic plurality. Nothing like "this is the only way to be multiple", no comment whatsoever.

DID is usually associated with adverse experiences in someone’s past and traumatic memories.

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is a mental health condition with strong links to trauma, especially trauma in childhood.

Bruh. This again?

In fact, the American Psychiatric Association reports that 90% of people with DID have a history of childhood abuse and neglect, based on research from the United States, Canada, and Europe.

Bruh. Seriously? 90%? You know what that leaves, right?

According to your own source, 10% of DID systems are endogenic.

But let's break this down. There's a big difference between the system being endogenic, and the DID being endogenic. This statistic is specifically referring to childhood trauma.

The wording's plenty vague though. This can absolutely be read as completely endogenic DID.

One review article from 2017 about the causes of DID noted that there was relatively little research on the condition to date.

The authors said researchers hadn’t yet investigated potential genetic and epigenetic factors. With epigenetic factors, the experiences and behaviors of your parents and ancestors can influence the function of the genes they pass down to you.

The authors of the review said scientists needed to do more research to investigate whether a person with DID might carry genes that can influence if they develop the condition or not.

This is particularly promising because studies have already shown that genes can influence dissociative disorders in general.

So you're telling me DID might be able to be passed down one or two generations? Wow. Again, this still has nothing to do with endogenic plurality, but I'm really glad I decided to play with this second angle, because it's so much more fun. We're certainly not at intentional self-inflicted DID here, but we are at this point a long way from certainly needing childhood trauma in all cases.

And also the reviewer is a military psychiatrist who specializes in ADHD. So uh. Not bringing our best here.

Link 3: Mayo Clinic

Gotta love an article that's nice and short. This is just a brief summary of a bunch of dissociative disorders. Again, nothing about endogenic plurality.

Starting to run out of things to say about this. This whole post could probably be a fifth the length if I didn't feel like playing on hard mode.

Formerly known as multiple personality disorder, this disorder involves "switching" to other identities. You may feel as if you have two or more people talking or living inside your head. You may feel like you're possessed by other identities.

Each identity may have a unique name, personal history and features. These identities sometimes include differences in voice, gender, mannerisms and even such physical qualities as the need for eyeglasses.

Hey, that reminds me of someone.

There also are differences in how familiar each identity is with the others. Dissociative identity disorder usually also includes bouts of amnesia and often includes times of confused wandering.

Again, McLean looking really odd with its declaration of DID's covertness against great detail like this. However, its author is so far the best qualified. This one just says "Mayo Clinic Staff". Can't even know which of them worked on this. Some of them are psychs, but if any of them specialize in dissociative disorders, it doesn't say so.

Dissociative disorders usually arise as a reaction to shocking, distressing or painful events and help push away difficult memories.

I won't bother quoting even more wishy-washy language because this post is already at an ungodly length (about 1300 words so far) and we're barely a third done. But yeah, suffice to say, no nail-in-the-coffin 100% link to trauma.

Link 4: Rethink

We are a trusted information creator and accredited by the Patient Information Forum (PIF).

Their bold, for once. That's an alarm-ringing corporate phrase if I've ever seen one. Also, first thing on the PIF's website is "balancing the risks and benefits of AI in the production of health information". So this article might've been written by GPT. Awesome. And yeah, a lot of this whole website looks to me like a bunch of interconnected pages with stupidly long articles written by stitching together LLM generations. Does pass GPT0's test though.

This one is so long. I'll take the ten minutes to read through every word, which I don't think @radpocalypse did, just to make sure there's nothing here, but one thing that does catch my eye scrolling down to near the bottom is that they misspelled their first citation.

A quick look at this Carolyn Spring shows a lot being sold and credentials nowhere in sight. Awesome.

So already I don't need to read this. The information here is not at a high level of trustworthiness. It's maybe better than nothing, but seriously, one can and should do better. But I'll read it anyway, just for bonus points. Thanks to AccelaReader for making this bearable.

Many people will experience dissociation at some point in their lives. Lots of different things can cause you to dissociate. For example, you might dissociate when you are very stressed, or after something traumatic has happened to you.

Some of the symptoms of dissociation include the following:

You may have clear multiple identities.

It‘s important to remember that you could have the symptoms of dissociation without a dissociative disorder.

So according to this, multiple identities can be caused by intense but non-traumatic stress, and might not necessarily be a disorder. So, while I admit this is a little bit of a stretch, we're four links in and this is the first mention of plurality in general, so I'll take it. One point for endogenic plurality. (And again, none of this really matters anyway because this is the worst source so far.)

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is sometimes called ‘Multiple Personality Disorder.

If you have DID you might seem to have 2 or more different identities, called ‘alternate identities.

Two missing closing quotes. Really not a good sign.

They suggest that DID is caused by experiencing severe trauma over a long time in childhood.

Aha! Finally, something concrete against endogenic DID! Too bad it's buried in the worst source yet. If we believed we had DID, we would absolutely not reconsider that based on a sketchy webpage with suboptimal syntax and no credentials.

Ugh, finally done with that one. What a slog.

Link 5: DID Research

Aha! The infamous psych student's blog! That's what Sophie said, anyway. Not taking her word for it though. Let's see what we can find here, independently.

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is the result of repeated or long-term childhood trauma

Why wasn't this first? First sentence, so crystal clear. No two ways about this, transDID destroyed right out of the gate.

DID cannot form after ages 6-9 because individuals older than these ages have an integrated self identity and history.

Why wasn't this first? It's so plain, so refreshing after four pages of strategic ambiguity. Nothing left here for green. But still no mention of non-disordered plurality.

The author is impressively credentialed but doesn't seem to specialize quite near this area. She's certainly better than most, high above any random Tumblr user talking out of their ass, but the good stuff would be to get a DID specialist to explicitly spell out that endogenic systems are not possible.

Also should make note of this big fat legal disclaimer:

While the author strives to make information on this website as complete, reliable, and accurate as possible, the author makes no claims, promises, guarantees, or warranties about the accuracy, completeness, or adequacy of the contents of this site and expressly disclaims liability for errors and omissions in the contents of this site.

If we did claim to have DID, this would rattle us a little but could ultimately be brushed aside.

Link 6: SANE

As usual, literally nothing about endogenic plurality. I'll just greenmode this.

The majority of people with DID have been through severe trauma in early childhood

And now back to our regularly scheduled nondefinitive language.

Fun fact: highlighting text on this website turns it invisible. Awesome.

A person needs to meet the following criteria to be diagnosed with DID:

- Two or more distinct identities or personality states, each with its own way of thinking and relating. - Amnesia and gaps in the recall of everyday events, personal information or traumatic events. - The experiences are not part of normal cultural or religious practice, or part of childhood imaginary play. For example, a child having an imaginary friend does not mean they have DID. - The symptoms are not because of substance abuse or other medical conditions.

Ah finally, a direct quote from the good ol' DSM. Notice the lack of a trauma requirement.

Funny enough, using only these criteria in isolation, we actually would count as having DID due to our grayout memory gaps when switching. DID is also listed in the dissociative disorders section of the DSM, not the trauma disorders section, so there is no implied criterion there either. However, there still remains the universal criterion of distress, which we do not fulfill. We are quite happy with ourselves.

DID is caused by severe childhood trauma, such as physical, verbal or sexual abuse.

Well, which is it?? Is it a majority association or a direct cause? Why the contradiction? Or is the emphasis on early childhood trauma?

Eh, whatever. Point is, green is once again shut down. But there is still no mention of endogenic plurality anywhere here!!

And no indication of who wrote this article, though the citation for direct cause is a dissociative disorder specialist. Does he actually say that in the cited paper, though?

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is multifactorial in its etiology. Whereas psychosocial etiologies of DID include developmental traumatization and sociocognitive sequelae, biological factors include trauma-generated neurobiological responses. Biologically derived traits and epigenetic mechanisms are also likely to be at play. At this point, no direct examination of genetics has occurred in DID. However, it is likely to exist, given the genetic link to dissociation in general and in relation to childhood adversity in particular.

I hope you have a dictionary on hand. That sure is a lot of big words that aren't in Firefox's built-in spellchecker. Still, after making sure I got everything, it's clearly not so cut and dry here. And we're back on the "it could be genetic" point.

Tangentially related: I do like the dismissal of the iatrogenic model on the basis of the brain scans.

Neurobiological differences have been demonstrated between dissociative identities within patients with DID and between patients with DID and controls. Given the current evidence, DID as a diagnostic entity cannot be explained as a phenomenon created by iatrogenic influences, suggestibility, malingering, or social role-taking. On the contrary, DID is an empirically robust chronic psychiatric disorder based on neurobiological, cognitive, and interpersonal non-integration as a response to unbearable stress.

Anyway, we're not even on the original page anymore, so I'll call it here. No mention of endogenic plurality, and the citation that claims to dismiss endogenic DID doesn't.

Link 7: NAMI Michigan

While the causes [of DID] are unknown

I'm tired. Aren't you tired?

Treatment for DID consists primarily of psychotherapy with hypnosis.

Yeah I'm calling BS on this one

And no citations on this entire page, nor even the author's name.

Statistics show that DID occurs in 0.01 to 1 percent of the general population.

Research has shown that the average age for the initial development of alters is 5.9 years old.

No sources listed. This is definitely the worst link. Literally on the same level as a rambling Tumblr user in terms of credibility.

Doesn't matter that it says

This disorder is believed to be triggered by physical or sexual abuse in childhood

Couldn't even get this dogshit source to be firm.

This one gets an F.

Link 8: The Psychology Practice

Got scared for a moment there that it said ai. No, that's AL, a name. Also this was written in 2022, so we're definitely safe. Can't actually find any other info on this AL character, but at least we can look up the co-author.

Hm, can't find anything on her, either. Well, at least this is a step up from the previous link. Let's see what it has to say.

According to the Dissociative Identity Research Organisation (2018), DID is formed in childhood due to repeated trauma in early childhood (before age 10) before the personality is fully integrated.

I do like that these later links are direct with this. They don't seem to have a citation for that DIRO, though. Unless...

No. Oh no.

Ok, so this one was written by a couple of clowns who definitely didn't do their homework. Cool. I'm getting tired of humoring awful sources like this, so moving on to the grand finale.

Link 9: NAMI

Wait, this is the same group behind the zero-citation article from Michigan! But that was just Michigan. Maybe the main site can do better.

Ugh, it's just another list of dissociative disorders instead of DID specifically.

The symptoms of a dissociative disorder usually first develop as a response to a traumatic event,

Aren't you tired? Aren't you tired? Aren't you tired?

Often these identities may have unique names, characteristics, mannerisms and voices.

Often? Wow. Sure is a far cry from 5%.

Dissociative disorders are managed through various therapies including: - Psychotherapies such as cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT) - Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) - Medications such as antidepressants can treat symptoms of related conditions

No mention of hypnosis, allegedly the primary method of treatment?? (/sarc)

and there was no mention of plurality being exclusive to dissociative disorders

Oh, and no listed authors either.

So, after three thousand words of analysis, all we've come up with are nothing burgers, dogshit, and dogshit nothing burgers. Out of nine links, only one briefly and indirectly touched on endogenic plurality, and it was in favor. Even the argument against the traumaless DID strawman is weak at best. These sources are bad, to put it lightly.

@radpocalypse, if you're reading this, firstly, thank you for powering through your ADHD and dyslexia to read thousands of words dunking on your masterpiece. Secondly, if you have any more sources that you think are backing you, feel free to send them my way. Just uh, maybe read them more closely next time?

And that goes for everyone here. If you think you have a better source, or if I made a mistake or missed something here, I am open to correction. I am open to the idea that I'm wrong and I have some unknown trauma to work through, but I certainly won't go digging unless I have good reason to believe it's there, and I haven't seen any good reason. And if you haven't either, maybe it's time to reconsider your position.

One last thing before I go.

Have you ever actually seen a pro-endo carrd, let alone one cited in standalone? I haven't.

Here's a much longer list of much better sources than yours supporting endogenic plurality compiled by the traumagenic Guardians System. I don't expect you to read anywhere near the whole thing; just pick a few links at random. And yes, while many of them are peer-reviewed papers, some of them are Tumblr posts, but those Tumblr posts cite peer-reviewed papers, so it's all good.

Thanks for reading.

[rise-against-the-machine]

Anniversary (Ethan Page x Reader)

GIF by PrinceDevitt here on tumblr (it looks nicer on their page, I had to compress it)

First person perspective with a bit of spice; non-explicit

After I commiserated over a lack of Ethan Page content, @madhatterbri once again inspired me, and encouraged me to post my first WWE fanfic here. So, you know… be gentle, please! 🙃

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Date nights always started the same. Usually, we’d toss around some ideas for dinner; one of us would suggest a movie and the other would offer a game night instead. A back-and-forth that, to anyone else, might sound more like bickering than negotiation, but for Ethan and I, it was our differences that brought us together. And so, over the past 5 years, it had become something of a game. We’d playfight over getting Chinese food or Italian–and end up ordering both. I’d pick out a chick-flick that I knew he hated and he’d grab a game off the shelf that had too many rules to learn–and then we’d laugh and curl up on the couch in front of the fireplace. I always made drinks while he set out the food: sometimes red wine–if we were feeling particularly lazy, drinking straight from the bottle like heathens–but more often than not, an old fashioned for Ethan and a rum and coke for me. Date nights were quiet, the hustle and chaos of our day jobs taking most of our energy, and we found our peace in each other’s arms.

The sounds of distant thunder paired with the warm light of the fire painted a scene of two people whose unspoken words roared louder than winds of the storm outside. The grazing of my manicured nails against his thigh, absentminded while I scrolled. The soft turning of pages as he read. The clinking of ice and glass over a soft R&B track playing from the speaker. I could feel him stealing glances over the rim of his glasses, trying to pretend like it was the book making him smile and not the gentle touches we shared. He kicked his legs out on the ottoman, and I turned to lean my back against his shoulder, knees tucked up under an old quilt.

The phone buzzed and I skimmed a lengthy text from my sister: something about her wedding anniversary, a new kitten and an upcoming family reunion I had never heard of. She followed it up with a set of wedding photos she and her husband had recreated this year; the sight of Ethan and I in the background of one of the original photos made my heart surge. He looked at me like I was his entire world. That trademark smile of his, mine and mine alone. We’d only been together for a few months when I asked him to be my plus one, and yet, he asked what color to wear to match my dress and had even brought my sister a gift. “Hey, look at us…” he said softly, peeking over my shoulder, “Did your sister send that over?”

“Yeah, it was her and David’s anniversary on Thursday. Guess she’s taking a trip down memory lane,” I chuckled.

He laughed and turned back to his book, “Sounds like Gemma alright, it’s only been… what? Three years?” My brows furrowed, confused. Three years? Ethan and I had been together for at least four and they got married after… right? A breathless laugh escaped my lips as I came to the somewhat horrifying realization that I couldn’t even recall our own anniversary. 

I turned to him, dumbfounded, kicking the blanket further down the sofa, “E, when do you think we started dating?” He laughed again, but only briefly as he realized just how serious I was.

“Well, we got together in…” While he may have started confidently, the way his words drifted off told me we were definitely in the same boat. “Well, we went to the work holiday party together and that would have been December 2019, right?”

Downing the rest of my drink, I countered, “Yeah, but we had gone out a few times before that. We just used the party to go public…” I expected him to follow it up with more details when he hummed in agreement, but instead he just turned back to his book once more. I continued, dissatisfied, “Ethan, put the damn book down; we’re solving a mystery right now and I need your help.” 

He closed it around his finger, still marking the page, and shrugged, “Baby, why does it matter, the exact date? We’ve never really been the type to celebrate anniversaries anyway. Always too busy to plan stuff, hell, sometimes we’re halfway across the country from each other.” I could hear him continue talking, but something he said triggers in my mind and it hits me all at once why neither of us could seem to remember. I smack his arm playfully and stand up, going to refill my glass. “What?” he huffed amusedly. I made a show of letting him sit in suspense, taking my time fixing my drink.

Just when it seemed he was going to give up waiting, I sat back down, cup in hand. I turned fully to face him, a knowing grin on my face. “You never asked me to be your girlfriend, did you? That’s why we can’t remember.” 

His eyes grew wide for a moment, clearly processing the seemingly absurd statement. We had been together for so long. We started traveling together for work and eventually, more and more of his stuff found its way into my closets and cabinets. When his lease came up, he just never re-signed. His head hung slightly, and a bashful blush crept across his cheeks. A soft Oh… fell from his lips and he almost seemed sad, or maybe ashamed to have missed something so big. I reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze, his eyes following my movement. The room felt heavier, like someone had let in the humid Florida air. The music seemed to scream through the silence. I leaned in, tilting my head to try and catch his eye. “Well?” I prod lightly, playfully, “Aren’t you gonna ask me?”

He looked up at me, almost dazed, “What?”

“To be your girlfriend.”

Ethan laughed, soft and breathy, but seemed hesitant; the blush he wore seemed to grow even deeper, “Isn’t it a little late for that? We’ve been living and traveling together for years. We adopted a cat together.”

I hummed and decided to push just a little further, readjusting and swinging my leg over his to straddle his lap. My hands explored his chest as I relished in the warmth of his body, his breathing, heavy and wanting. I pressed my lips by his ear, a breathless whisper that seemed to echo in the space. “Ask me to be yours, Ethan. Forever and always.” In the silence, I could almost feel his heart thumping under my fingertips. “You already know my answer, I just want to hear you say it.” His shaking hands found their way to clutch my hips as if he was afraid I’d disappear.

One reached up slowly, cupping my cheek. His normally dark eyes seemed somehow even darker, more black than brown, but they were as hungry as they were soft, and so full of love that I did my best to commit the moment to memory. “God, I love you so much… Will you be mine, forever and always?”

Pressing my lips against his, I took his face in my hands, one hand rubbing a thumb over the growing beard on his jaw, the other holding the back of his head. He pulled me somehow closer and deepened the kiss until I pulled away just long enough to let out a soft Yes.

He found the hem of my sweatshirt and tugged it over my head, tossing it god knows where. His cold and covetous hands sent chills down my spine as they clawed their way down, leaving me to lift my hips just enough for him to reach under me and move us so that I lay beneath him. I realized just how much Ethan’s hair had grown a lot in the past few months, and I couldn’t help but brush it back and give it a little tug, his groan filling my mind with filthy thoughts. When I let go, his head fell, eager eyes now trailing up my body before meeting mine, that same look of love etched on his face now that he wore in the wedding photo. That wordless kind of love that fills your whole being and makes your heart beat so loud that you’re sure anyone would be able to hear it. I am his whole world. And he is mine.

He kissed me hard, senseless and sloppy, like we were back in our honeymoon phase. A mess of hands and hair, of desperation and desire, as we made ourselves some new anniversary memories.

[crimsonbubble]

2024 has been a jam-packed year of events. I've found myself and lost myself so many times this year, But honestly, those moments led me to this moment—right here, right now. After not writing anything for so long, I found my spark for writing again this year. I’ve gone through god fucking knows how many hyper fixations this year alone. I got back into kpop this year as well; after taking a bit of a hiatus from it for a year or two.

Looking at my tumblr archive is insane. And I think some of you would enjoy seeing the progression into brain rot. So, here we go!

January starts with a continuation of my mortal kombat phase. Seeing the amount of fics I wrote for this media is insane. My 2023 kinktober compared to my 2024 one is a stark contrast. There may also be some COD stuff sprinkled in there as well and honestly, that makes me want to rip my eyes out.

February is still part of the mortal kombat train with some love and deepspace stuff placed here and there. It’s still mainly mortal kombat because that fixation had a very strong chokehold on me.

March is still part of the mortal kombat stuff but with resident evil stuff thrown into the mix too bc re4rm came out. Hints of genshin stuff too. Oh and milkman. March had a lot of little bits and pieces thrown at it. This just shows how versatile my taste in characters is (no, it’s not. Im basic more often than not).

April, aka my birthday month!! Anyways more mortal kombat. Oh yeah, boops were a thing for a day. Ooh, more milkman stuff too.

May was where the clusterfuck of fixations came together. Early May was still mortal kombat, some spiderverse stuff thrown in there as well, some stuff about Midas from fortnite too, some jjk fics and such, etc. Now… May 6th was my first official reblog of ateez content after coming back from my kpop hiatus. It was actually the ‘boyfriend texts w/ jeong yunho’ from @beenbaanbuun !! Then slowly I started reblogging more ateez stuff, both from other writers and my older posts as well. The rest of the month was full of ateez fics and whatnot.

*Side note; May 12th was the start of my return to ateez writing with ‘sweet as sin w/ yunho’

June was filled with only ateez posts and reblogs. By this time I was on summer break so I had a lot of time to myself. A lot of horny reblogs and shitposts.

July has significantly more reblogs and posts than other months bc I’m pretty sure I was really getting back into ateez and stuff and the brain rot was getting worse by the day. Still contains mostly shitposts.

August was when the dilf hongjoong brain rot was in full effect. I also posted some pretty good fics this month too. Such as;

Tempted w/ hongjoong

Helplessly yours w/ san

Head full of stars w/ hongjoong

Blue screen w/ seonghwa

More than money w/ san

Snow kiss w/ hongjoong

Bared teeth w/ hongjoong

Studio rehearsal w/ topaz

A little older w/ hongjoong

Scorched tangerines w/ hongjoong

Candied thorns w/ hongjoong

Guns and tiaras w/ hongjoong

Bitter toppings w/ hongjoong

Pretty boys w/ hongsan

Sweet dressings w/ hongjoong

Pillow covers w/ hongjoong

Blue ribbons w/ hongjoong

The dilf hongjoong brainrot still has not subsided and it has now become a part of me.

September was more reblogs, more shitposts and whatnot. This month includes some fics like;

Video game lover w/ yunho

Shameless kisses w/ hongjoong

Heartbeats and humiliation w/ hongjoong

My comfort is you w/ jongho

Cherry red w/ hongjoong

Rings of temptation w/ mingi

Stitching desire w/ hongjoong

Claiming ground w/ vamp matz

Pull of passion w/ wooyoung

Dilf mingi blurb

Oh and then the suits brainrot came in (still haven't finished the show btw). Plus getting ready for kinktober.

October was kinktober month and let me tell you I loved writing these fics. You can find my complete kinktober list here!! Dilf joong is still keeping me occupied and the fixation is now slightly worse. Oh yeah, silent hill 2 remake came out around this time so I wrote some fics for that too. Pyramid head made a short-lived comeback on my blog with the remake as well as reading some kinktober fics of him too.

November was shitposts upon shitposts. So many horny postings it’s insane. IOMT comeback happened and wreaked havoc across social media platforms. Tumblr atinys were in shambles I can tell you that much.

December was still more horny postings and reblogs. If there’s one thing im good at, it’s reblogging and reposting shit at ungodly hours.

But overall, this year was full of memories. I got to interact with so many amazing writers and readers this year. There were a lot of anons that I got to interact with. I just can’t get over being able to connect with so many wonderful people. I want to say a thank you to everyone who followed me and stayed with me even through the chaos.

To my moots, followers and anyone else who views this post, Happy New Year and I wish all the best for you!!

@hwamphwamp @shinyj3lly @wisejudgedragonhairdo @cookies-n-joong @yun-fangz @autieofthevalley @sugarnspice630 @pirateprincessblog @bombuni @everyonewooeverywhere @kitten4sannie @miyaluvvsyou @linearities

[saffron-words]

Introduction and UtsuKare Translations Master Post

Some of you might recognize me as that Russian translator of Utsukushii Kare books from Wattpad. I decided to revive my tumblr to compile all the links and explanations here for those of you, My Beautiful Man fans, who can't wait for official English releases of the books.

I could never keep a blog, so for now here I'll just tell how it all came about, and you can find links to all my MBM translations at the end (feel free to just skip the wall of text).

So a couple of years ago I finally bowed down and decided to read Utsukushii Kare series in Japanese for language practice, even though I found the summary unappealing and I'm generally suspicious of overhyped media (as far as BL novels go, these books seemed to be The most hyped-up series in Japan). Much to my surprise, I loved it so much it was hard to move on. And while I waited for a chance to buy book 3 and Interlude, I gobbled up everything else related to the series that I could. The manga was only just starting, I didn't like dramaCDs (but I'm in the minority), and the drama somehow revived my love for watching Jdramas, even though I thought that this part of my fandom life has been over for years. When the second season started airing, I made a new friend in the Russian-speaking parts of the Internet who was even more obsessed with MBM than I am, and we fangirled to our hearts' content. At some point I promised her to translate the big sex scene from the end of book 3 as a gift for all the talks. I did, and since back then there was nothing for book 3 in any European language, as far as I know, I decided to post it online and give a link to English-speaking UtsuKare fans too. And since Wattpad doesn't allow copying text, and the browser translator feature from Google Translate was really inadequate, I also put up a link to the translation made with Deepl. As far as machine translators go, it is noticeably more comprehensible, and I didn't have the time (or skills to do the book justice, really) to translate it to English myself. Anyway, after this excerpt I thought I could manage one more important scene from book 3, then one more, and then I finally gave up and started translating it properly from the beginning. I also started correcting mistranslations in Deepl-versions that I kept doing for English readers, so some parts of the book are now much more readable than others. Now the third and the second book are done and I started to work on book 4, Mamanaranai Kare that was published in Japan at the end of October 2024. I also translated several stories from Interlude and plan to do at least one more, and maybe some others for some holidays.

So here are the links to everything I've translated from My Beautiful Man book series:

Book 3 "Nayamashii Kare" which continues the story past the movie (completed). The text is in Russian, but there are links to decent machine translations to English at the beginning of each part (I've also run through most of them and corrected the mistranslations). Or you can use the in-browser translation feature, but the results would be less readable.

Book 2 "Nikurashii Kare" which was technically turned into season 2 of the drama and the movie, but the script has deviated so much from the book, at times it's like a completely different story (completed). I don't make Deepl translations for this since the official English release finally came out in December.

Stories from the Interlude. A number of stand-alone stories from the collection of them called "Interlude". The book has a total of 15 stories, and I probably won't translate it in its entirety, but I've dones the ones that I personally liked. One of them had also been translated to English by Mauli before, but I didn't use her version when working on mine. The rest of the stories have never been translated by anyone else, as far as I know. These, too, have links to Deepl-versions at the beginning.

Book 4 "Mamanaranai Kare" continues where book 3 left off. Ongoing. Usually I can manage at least one update per month, sometimes more, and I plan to divide the whole book into 12 parts. Each part will have a link to an English version which is machine-translated but with all mistranslations corrected by me.

Disclaimer: my Japanese is not yet really on a level good enough to translate fiction, and there are bound to be mistranslations even if you read the original Russian versions. But I'm cross-checking myself on everything to try and keep those mistakes to minor things. I also know how to translate so I made sure that the text flows well, doesn't feel choppy and retains the same vibe that I get from reading the original.

[noxiatoxia]

Sorry for the jankiness in this, I had to control both my Vita and PC at the same time, but here is a comparison! On the left, my fantranslation, and on the right, the official translation.

If you're wondering what this is all about, I'm working on a patch (at least of the prologue, I cannot promise the whole game) of SDR2, that aims to provide a more accurate experience than the official English translation.

More accurate how? Danganronpa not only suffers from a lot of mistranslations, but a handful of clunky dialogue and very literal translation choices that sacrifice nuance and an accurate experience for the sake of keeping the literal text. I want this patch to:

Fix all the mistranslations.

Add back in character accents, speech pattern quirks, and more accurately represent how they talk.

Fix the dialogue to sound more natural in English, as if these could be actual words spoken aloud (for the most part).

Give English players a version of the came that focuses more on capturing the spirit, energy, and emotion of the original dialogue than heavily focusing on providing the most literally accurate translation.

More on all these points under the cut.

What about other fantranslations? (orenronen, etc) I have not seen every conceivable English fan translation for SDR2, but a big one is orenronen's on SomethingAwful. It was never finished past chapter 3, but still stands as probably the most popular fan translation. Orenronen's work is extremely impressive given the speed and quality of the translations. That said, it is not without its mistakes, and I think suffers from perhaps taking too many liberties. I'm hoping my patch can strike a good balance between his and the official translation to deliver the most authentic experience possible.

So is this SDR2 "definitive" edition? Not exactly, I'll explain under the cut.

Big changes in this clip:

Added back in Souda's accent along with changing his name back. Tanaka's talent was also changed.

There is a joke that both I and the original English translation had to change as no English player would get it. You can read more about it in this post I made. (along with Jum-P being changed from Golden Hawk to Golden Eagle)

Komaeda speaks of Tanaka's time in the breeding/animal club, but as far as I'm aware, this is not a thing in many Western schools. The main gist of the text is Tanaka is amazing with breeding animals. The fact it was a club is irrelevant to the meaning, other than providing that he is a high schooler (which we already knew), so I cut it out to be more understandable to most English players.

Tanaka adds the part on about his hamsters not going easy on their enemies himself, the hamster doesn't say that. Kept the Hulk reference as it's a pretty apt translation and makes up for the missed reference from earlier. However I'm thinking of maybe changing the line afterwards to "they are not used to holding back" as that would be more accurate.

If you're interested in the details of this patch, please read below! I want this to be made for the fans by the fans, so any input is welcomed. If you have suggestions for how to improve text to flow better in English, or wish to correct/inquire about translation choices of mine, I more than welcome it. No matter how big or small, I want everyone to give their feedback and opinions and suggestions.

If you are interested in helping in the translation, be it from the perspective of a Japanese speaker, a play tester, or want to offer general writing/wording advice and feedback, please DM me. While I don't plan to form a team (I prefer to work alone), projects like this benefit greatly from opinions and feedback. Especially if you are familiar with both the official English and orenronen's version, I would appreciate your help. If a good number of people seem interested in helping, I may form a Discord or Tumblr community to facilitate discussion easier.

Welcome to under the cut. So, let's talk about that earlier point about definitive edition.

The thing is, save mistranslations, NISA (the official translation) and orenronen's versions of SDR2 are equally correct in some manner. NISA took a more literal approach to each sentence, while orenronen took more liberal approaches, instead going off what would sound best/fitting. Neither of these are incorrect. There is no "definitive" translation for any media in any language, but speaking from the perspective of Japanese -> English, there is rarely ever an exact way to be 1:1.

Let's take an example. The word "usagi" means "rabbit"...but it also means "bunny" and "hare". These are all relatively the same thing to the layman, but they impart different nuances. A character who chooses to only say "rabbit" instead of "bunny" may sound more intelligent or old-timey. So, how do you know which one to choose when it could be any 3? That's a very simplified version of the kind of choices you have to make in translation. When it comes to sentences that get longer and have more nuance even in the original Japanese language, you suddenly have a whole new beast to deal with.

You may have heard the common joke of "inexperienced translators" who translate the phrase "しょうがない" as "it can't be helped". Most English dictionaries will tell you this is what the phrase means, and yes, it is used in such a manner, but the fact is, most people do not say "it can't be helped". "I can't help but [...]" is much more common, but the standalone phrase is usually "it is what it is" or "that's just how things are", etc.

The phrase itself literally translates as "there is no method".

So, we have three versions of this phrase. The literal translation, the widely-posited English dictionary translation, and a naturalized version that is not literal to the actual Japanese word, but is an "equivalent" to what people would say in English. Which of these is more correct? Really...none of them. There is no more correct answer, just what sounds better or fits better.

This is all to say, my translation is going to be me doing the very, upmost best I can do to capture the meaning and nuance in all the words said, but also making it sound good and natural in English. This will inevitably include changing very cultural-specific things that English players wouldn't get, e.g. the Mutsugorou Kingdom joke Komaeda makes. As an English translation, I feel it is most important to naturalize it for an English audience. That is the whole point of translating from one language into another.

Above all, I will be honoring the feeling and meaning of the text rather than the literal words like NISA did. In other words, I would personally go with "it is what it is".

Keep in mind I am also one guy. I am not perfect in either language. Even people who speak English or Japanese as their first language make mistakes in them still, and translation only increases that chance. That's why extra eyes on this project helps. I do feel like I am a little out of my league, but at the end of the day, I'm doing this out of passion and fun. The official translation will still exist even if I make my own, so if anything, I'm hoping it provides a different experience that can help people grasp a closer meaning to the Japanese text.

Okay, let's get to the game stuff. Firstly, as you've seen, changes will be made to Character names/talents.

Ultimate Breeder -> Ultimate Animal Breeder. As funny as the implications are, his title was never meant to be confusing or ambiguous in the Japanese version.

Ultimate Musician -> Ultimate Pop Rock Musician. Mioda's title in the Japanese version is actually "Ultimate K-On Club Member", but was changed since most English players don't know what K-On is. It is most comparable to Pop Rock in terms of sound.

Soda Kazuichi -> Souda Kazuichi.

Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko -> Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko.

Kirigiri Kyoko -> Kirigiri Kyouko.

A vote was held to keep Tanaka Gundham instead of Gundam or Gandamu (but this is subject to change depending on opinions I hear from others. His name is supposed to be a Gundam reference). A vote was also held to keep Hinata Hajime instead of Hazime.

Character Accents: As is with these types of games, the point is to have zany, eccentric characters who talk in zany, eccentric ways. Danganronpa is extremely hit or miss when it comes to carrying over these quirks. For the rest of this post I'll just be talking about SDR2 of course, but basically everything I say applies to the other Dangan games as well.

Some characters have their accents kept, at least in part, while others are just ignored. For example, Souda and Owari's accents were only sometimes kept, or watered down, while Usami's accent was removed entirely.

Speech quirks: This is largely context based. A cutesy girl using ね excessively comes off differently than a typical teenage boy using ね excessively, and will be translated differently...at least, that's how I view it. For the girl, I may make her speech more bubbly, cute, and appealing. For the boy, I would akin it more to going "like" or "um" a lot. Of course, if the boy is going for a cutesy image, or the girl is supposed to be mature, then I would flip this around. Like I said, this part depends 100% on context for each line.

Accurate representation: This one is a lot...but I'll try to boil it down. Japanese has several was to say "I" and "You"; different words and different ways to write those words. In fiction, this is usually a vehicle to tell you about the character's personality.

For example, among boys, it is common they will either use "boku" or "ore". "boku" is generally more polite than "ore".

However, there's multiple ways to write "ore". Hiragana, Katakana, or Kanji. The way it is written imparts a different impression. Hinata, for example, uses ore, kanji (俺) to refer to himself. Souda uses ore, katakana (オレ) to refer to himself. While this gives them both the impression of being masculine & impolite, Hinata using kanji gives the added impression of him being more intelligent and calm, while for Souda, katakana gives the impression of him being more abrasive and eccentric.

The meaning of what script is used also changes depending on context.

For example, for "you", both Hanamura and Komaeda use "kimi", which is a soft, friendly way to say "you" among friends. (Although, this is speaking strictly from the standpoint of fiction. You rarely use "you" in real Japanese. Anime characters do it all the time though, so it doesn't really count as "rude" by itself.)

However, Hanamura uses kimi, kanji (君) while Komaeda uses kimi, katakana (キミ). This both gives them the impression of being open and friendly, but for Hanamura, speaking with kanji makes it seem like he's being more proper and refined, and with Komaeda, speaking in katakana makes it seems like he's being more casual and laid back.

And then there are very unique "I" and "You" pronouns. Tanaka uses "ore-sama" (俺様) which sounds like he is saying "the great and amazing me", basically.

Ibuki says her own name, but this got translated poorly. Saying your own name as a first person pronoun, while not common, is more common in Japanese than English. Especially by kids and teen girls, it's seen as a cutesy thing. But it doesn't really come across like that in English. I will likely get rid of Mioda speaking in third person altogether, instead trying to incorporate this manner of speech into other forms, as it comes down to Mioda simply acting cute and eccentric. I think a good alternative is for her to occasionally speak of herself by saying "we" or "us", as that is not uncommon in English.

Similarly, Usami/Monomi talk with a cutesy ending. -desu becomes dechu, -masu becomes machu... "chu" is a very cute sound in Japanese, and it's supposed to drive home Usami's personality. I see this get translated as UwU speak a lot, which isn't incorrect, and in fact is a better translation than doing nothing like NISA did, but she does not speak with a speech impediment. It is only her endings that are modified. Me, personally, I will reword Usami to speak in a more simple, cute manner like a child show's protagonist, like Dora. I will also change some words to be cuter, like everybody -> everybunny, and you -> chu, but she will still speak normally.

And sometimes, pronouns change. Hinata uses omae (お前) to refer to other people, but for Monokuma, he's used omae (オマエ) before, changing the script to reflect his animosity.

This isn't even getting into honorifics or keigo. Honorifics (like -san, -kun, or no honorifics at all) reflect how respectful a character is of other characters. Similarly, "keigo", being often referred to as "polite speech", is commonly denoted by if a sentence ends in "-desu or -masu". Not speaking keigo in the situation these characters are in is a bit of a toss up. I wouldn't say it's automatically rude given they are all of the same age and status, and classmates don't always speak that way to each other either, but I would personally think most would approach this situation being polite when they're strangers.

There are also particles, some of which are more rude/masculine than other equivalent particles, or imperative speech, which is extremely rude (and not really ever used in real life).

On a politeness scale, for example...

Tsumiki uses keigo and uses -san for everyone, boys and girls. In the context of the rest of the cast, this sounds like she's speaking extremely politely and formally.

Komaeda does not use keigo but uses -san for girls and -kun for boys. He also uses "regular" particles. In context, this seems like he is speaking casually. Not rude, but not formal.

Hinata does not use keigo and does not use honorifics. He uses very masculine particles and is prone to using imperative form. In context, this seems like he is speaking extremely rudely.

Of course, NISA's version of SDR2 translates everything the same mostly since they go for a very literal approach, meaning these things that can't be translated into English all get translated the same, which is a shame. A lot is lost about how these characters speak and interact with the world. Specifically, Hinata suffers the most. Not just from stiff dialogue, but from getting his rude speech cut down immensely. The official art book for SDR2 claims that part of the design philosophy for Hinata was wanting to make a protagonist who was very masculine and direct. I want to keep that spirit in this patch, factoring in Hinata's choice in speech to influence how things get worded in English. While a sentence like なんだそれ！？Literally translates as "What is that!?", I would write it differently depending on the character after factoring in accent and everything we just talked about. "What the heck is that!?" for Souda, and "What the hell is that!?" (or even replacing hell with fuck in a tense situation) for Hinata, for example. For Komaeda, "What on earth is that!?" etc...

I think those are all the big points...if you've read this far, thank you :]