#6 days in a row with only 1 day off at the end???

[miss--river]

sorry i needed to do something to make myself feel better

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Tom Riddle x Reader - "Good" Ending.

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding, self-harm, vomiting, (y/n) is going THROUGH it. horror elements. Tom Riddle.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5- -Part 6- -Part 7- -Bad ending- -CC ending-

=

(y/n)’s hands shook as she entered the restricted section for the third night in a row. She couldn’t believe she’d been getting away with this every night, far after curfew had ended. But finally-the book Tom had needed her to get was in sight and she snatched it from the shelf, casting a quick ‘Silencio’ before undoing the chains around it and opening it.

“Possessions and reanimations” she muttered under her breath, looking for those two particular chapters Tom had told her to find. He’d told her one of the only, safe, ways to get whatever was trying to possess her out was to force it into a new host-that way it would leave more…willingly and not try to cling to her soul that it was trying to take over.

Research in the other books Tom had told her to read only confirmed that theory. An exorcism would leave her drained and vulnerable for the spirit/demon/being to reattach to, and it took a good chunk of magic/demonic magic knowledge that she did not have.

With a quick glance at the pages, she cast a copy spell to the diary and shoved the book back into the shelf after re-chaining it. Filch now a days patrolled the hallway where Mrs. Norris had been petrified so she didn’t have to worry about him.

Hopefully.

She carefully snuck back out of the restricted section, avoiding the patrolling prefects on the way back to her dorm. She let out a harsh breath as she reached her dorm room-her roommates/friends already asleep.

She crept to her bed and closed the curtains, casting the muffling spell and opening the diary that she’d been clutching in her hand. The two chapters were inked into the pages now, Tom making notes before her very eyes.

Her eyes drew to the scribble of notes at the bottom page.

‘Need healing potion. Special potion required to work. Must be done on a full moon. Blood sample needed. Large cauldron needed. Spell circle needed.’

She watched him scribble more and more notes with interest, feeling very touched he was so determined to help her get the attached spirit off her and into a body of its own so she could be free of it and, maybe, kill it so it couldn’t wreak havoc on Hogwarts.

The page flipped on its own and she watched as he drew out several spell circles, attempting to find the right one that she would need to draw out in blood before starting the potion that would build the body for the spirit that had latched onto her.

Finally, Tom landed on the perfect spell circle, two actually, it was all nonsense to her since it was very old magic, but Tom wrote notes at the bottom for her, detailing the properties of the spell circles and the runes within them.

‘The first circle is a sealing spell so it can't go anywhere. The second is a protection circle for you so it can't latch back onto you.’

(y/n) nodded to herself at the notes, watching the page flip again as Tom wrote down more notes and potion ingredients for the potion she’d create.

Three days of this, of watching Tom go nuts with his writing, watching firsthand of his magical knowledge-at only 16, Tom had been insanely knowledgeable and a magical genius, to the point where his personality enchantment was too. It was comforting, knowing he was so proactive in making sure she was going to be okay, that he wanted to help her.

It made warm fluffy feelings grow in her chest and tummy.

It made her think, while Tom continued to write notes, that she had wished-more than once now-that Tom was real, well-alive….alive and her age. He most likely was still alive, probably in his 60s now, but she wished the Tom she’d gotten to know was alive, real, not just words on a page or a ghost-like thing or just a spell.

She wanted him to be real, touchable, breathing…warm.

She sighed, it would never happen-Tom was only a personality enchantment, the most he would be ever able to do was to materialize outside the diary for a limited time or pull her into his memories/the subspace of his spell-based mind.

More recently, especially since telling her he believed she was being possessed, he’d been materializing outside the diary every night, watching over her as she slept and comforting her when she had nightmares about that strange room. It was nice, really nice, a comfort she hadn’t had since before the school year started remerging with Tom being around every night.

Those nights, when he stuck around, his hand a feather-light weight on her shoulder or in her hair, it was easy to sleep.

Her eyes drew back down to the diary-where Tom’s words stared back at her.

‘When is the next full moon (y/n)?’

(y/n) furrowed her brows and grabbed her astrology homework, flipping through the notes she’d taken. It seemed the next full moon was this upcoming Saturday, and it was Thursday night/very early Friday now. She told as such to Tom, and he quickly wrote back to her.

‘Very good, the quicker this is done the better. Now. I need you to get these potion ingredients and bring them to the 2nd floor girls’ lavatory, the haunted one you’ve mentioned.’

(y/n) furrowed her brows, why that bathroom in particular?

“why that room in particular?”

‘It’s not that room exactly, but what it leads to. For this spell to work, you need to be where the spirit is strongest, or where it’s been residing, so it’s more willing to leave your body, and since it’s the heir of Slytherin attempting to possess you-you need to go into the chamber of secrets.’

(y/n)’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open. “What?” she whispered under her breath, her quill shaking in her grip. She had to go into the chamber of secrets??? But how?! And how did Tom know how to get to it?? Was the entrance in the bathroom the whole damn time????

“how do you know where the entrance is?!”

‘I found it 50 years ago, during the attacks in 1942-3, while I was trying to hunt down the heir to stop the attacks. I couldn’t afford for Hogwarts to close, I didn’t have a home to go to, so I did what I had to do, and I found it. I couldn’t seal it off however, but maybe you can, or at least seal off most of the underground terrain.’

‘But I believe the heir died in the chamber attempting to find it, and 50 years ago attempted to do the same as they’re doing now-possessing someone to do the dirty work for them.’

(y/n) stared in horror at the page, her hand shaking. Dirty work for them…the heir of Slytherin had been possessing them and opening the chamber to attack muggleborns, so while she-technically-wasn’t responsible for all the attacks, she was being used as a host to open the chamber.

(y/n) took a deep breath, closing her eyes and strengthening her resolve.

“okay. What do I need to do?”

-

She spent the next whole day stealing potion ingredients from Snape’s potions cabinet, only getting a little at a time when he was off in classes, undoing the detection charm each time and then recasting it after relocking the door-Snape was none the wiser.

Tom really was a magical genius.

the day passed slowly, (y/n) watching the sky and clock anxiously as she waited for curfew to start and the full moon to be in the sky. Her friends noticed her anxiety, but she told them she was just stressed for exams since the distractions from the chamber hadn’t allowed much studying for everyone.

They understood and left her be after that.

After classes ended for the day, she rushed up to her dorm room, stowing away all the potion ingredients into the cauldron she’d hidden under her bed. She pushed the caldron back under the bedframe and hopped onto her bed, laying down.

She took a long deep breath, her eyes feeling heavy and her chest tight. She wanted to sleep, but was scared again-now knowing that when she did sleep-the heir could possess her with terrifying ease.

However Tom told her she should sleep a bit before going to the chamber, so she was fully rested and the strongest she could be before performing the spell.

So, she napped, and thankfully-when she woke up, she was still in her bed and her roommates were in the room, all chatting quietly in respect for her sleep. “Well good evening sleeping beauty,” her friend teased as she noticed (y/n) sitting up. “Have a good nap?”

(y/n) nodded, rubbing her eyes and then fixing her hair as she slid out of bed. It was about 6:30 now, time for dinner. Everyone crowded in the common room, waiting for Snape to arrive to take them to the Great Hall.

Dinner was a bit quiet, but (y/n) was nearly trembling with nerves, tonight would be the end of it. Tonight, the threat of the chamber of secrets would be defeated and things would finally go back to normal.

She eats her food faster than usual but tries to slow down so she didn’t look odd, and then as soon as she’s back in her dorm, she changes out of her robes and into some casual clothes, drawing the curtains around her bed and grabbing Tom’s diary from under her pillow.

“everything’s ready.”

The ink disappeared into the page and Tom’s elegant scrawl replaced it.

‘Very good. Well done (y/n),’

“thanks, im terrified.”

‘you’re being brave, and I commend you for that, what time is it now?’

(y/n) flushed at his compliment and looked at her watch. It was just about 7:15 now, the sun starting to set.

“7:15, its still a good while till the moon will be out.”

‘Very well,’

(y/n) talked to Tom a bit longer to ease her nerves, and soon enough her roommates were asleep, and it was way past curfew, the full moon visible through the windows that peered into the black lake.

She slowly slipped out of bed, slipping on her shoes and carefully taking the cauldron from below her bed, holding it carefully as she snuck out of her room, Tom’s diary and her wand tight in her other hand.

She crept out of the common room, swallowing harshly. She was all the way down in the dungeons and she had to get all the way up to the 2nd floor girls’ bathroom-where the ghost of Myrtle was-the girl who had died to the heir of Slytherin 50 years ago.

She could only imagine what could’ve happened if Tom hadn’t helped her discover the possession on her, maybe more deaths, maybe she would’ve been fully possessed and lost within her own body.

She swallowed down her fear and quietly walked through the torch-lit halls, slowly heading up each staircase-hiding every time she heard another footstep or the light of a patrolling professor or prefect.

She held her breath for a moment as she hid behind a pillar, her hand clutching her chest as she heard Professor Snape pass down the hallway behind her-exactly the hallway she had to go into.

She waited for a few long moments, waiting until the light from his wand was completely gone before she went for it, making it to the hall of moving staircases, which were hardly patrolled due to the complexity of it all.

She quickly made her way up the floors, pausing every time the staircase under her feet moved-waiting for it to move back to where she needed to go. Eventually, she got to the 2nd floor, sneaking down the hall, the caldron knocking against her legs every few seconds as she had to hold back from running to the bathroom.

Filch was asleep, snoring loudly, which covered up her footsteps and the creak of the door as she snuck into the bathroom. She let out a slow breath, casting a quick silencing charm to make sure no one heard her.

She turned to the sinks, her eyes drawing to the singular rusted sink, right in front of her. She set the cauldron down, walking towards the sink and attempted to turn the rusted sink on, but it didn’t. She gazed at the side of the nozzle, her fingers grazing the snake that was embedded into the metal.

This really was it, just like Tom said, this was the entrance to the chamber of secrets.

She swallowed harshly, taking a step back, looking at the sink structure as a whole. She took a deep breath, remembering the hissing language from her dreams, licking her lips.

“O-open,” She spoke in parseltongue, clumsy and she hoped she said the right thing, but it seems she had-the top part of the sink lifted into the air, her eyes going wide at the sight, next the sinks all slowly shifted apart to show a large opening-the sink with the snake embedding sinking into the floor-a grate sliding over it, allowing direct passage into the dark tunnel that went straight down.

The chamber of secrets had been beneath the castle all this time, which made her wonder-when plumbing had been implemented into the castle, how had it not been found? Surely it had a different entrance back then???

She shook her head, sighing, that was a thought for later. She picked up the cauldron, stepping closer to the tunnel edge. She looked over the edge, pursing her lips at the pitch black that enveloped the tunnel.

She clutched the caldron, casting a quick charm so nothing fell out, and jumped down.

Wind rushed past her ears and her hair flew up. She let out a scream as she descended into the tunnels below the castle, tumbling out of the pipe and onto a harsh pile of…she looked down and then instantly stood up, clutching the cauldron.

Bones.

Animal bones thankfully, but still bones. She took a shuddering breath and looked away, taking her wand out of her jumper pocket and holding it up. “Lumos,” she murmured, her wand illuminating her way as she delved deeper into the caverns beneath Hogwarts.

All around her she could hear the echo of dripping water, the sound of her feet hitting the ground, and her own breathing.

She covered her mouth and slammed into a stalagmite, a short scream escaping her as she looked upon the humongous snakeskin in front of her. It had to be at least 70 feet long, maybe more. What the fuck? Was this the skin of the monster of Slytherin?

Something clicked in her head-the monster was a basilisk. It only made sense. She shook her head, taking a deep breath and continuing, carefully maneuvering around the basilisk skin. The tunnel went deeper and deeper-curving further and further below Hogwarts, until finally she reached a wall guarded by two snakes, their eyes replaced with glittering emeralds.

They seemed to stare back at her, waiting for her to do something. She swallowed harshly and clumsily spoke parseltongue again. “Open,” she let out a breath as the snakes unraveled from each other, a slit in the wall appearing and the snakes now acting as hinges as the wall opened like a set of double doors.

She remembered seeing this in her nightmares.

She took a shuddering breath stepping into the chamber of secrets. Instantly she felt a chill go up her spine, looking into the long dark hallway that led deeper into the chamber of secrets. The stone path was wet-the sound of water dripping echoing through the massive space. On either side of her were rows and rows of serpent statues that curled up into the very very tall ceiling.

She swallowed down her nerves-clutching the cauldron handle in her fist. This was it, this was it. She was going to expel the heir of Slytherin from her soul and trap it in a body to seal it away so it couldn’t open the chamber of secrets or possess anyone ever again.

She nearly sped walked to the front of the chamber, looking up at the gigantic stature of Salazar Slytherin, that seemed to sneer down at her-as if it knew she was a muggleborn tramping upon his sacred space. She frowned, casting a drying charm on the floor beneath her and undoing the sticking charm on the cauldron, taking out everything she needed.

First things first, the spell circles. She took her wand, closing her eyes and turning her head away, slicing into her wrist to draw blood. She instantly felt queasy-even though usually blood didn’t make her queasy-but the reasoning for this time did.

She took a deep shaky breath and waved her wand over her wound, beginning to make the two spell circles Tom had drawn out in the diary for her, the diary open in front of her for reference. Soon they were drawn, and the runes glowed lightly, shimmering in the eerie green gloom of the chamber.

Next, she set up the cauldron. “Incendio,” she murmured, starting a fire and then setting the cauldron atop it after filling it with water. She flipped to the diary page where Tom had written down the potion ingredients.

She held her arm over the water-that was just starting to simmer-letting her blood drip down into the water. After that she healed her arm with a quick charm and covered it back up with her jumper sleeve, grabbing the other potion ingredients that were all set up in front of her crossed legs.

Crushed unicorn horn, boomslang skin, knot grass, crushed bone, and finally-she shuddered, looking down at her thumb and bringing it up to her mouth-biting off some of the skin that poked out near the nail, putting it in the potion. Flesh.

The potion boiled and bubbled a sickly peachy color, and she swallowed, she wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now. Suddenly her vision went fuzzy, and she felt warmth drip from her nose-fuck fuck fuck-she dabbed her nose and saw the black inky blood from the week before. She swallowed hard-and then suddenly her hand was moving on its own, like a puppet on a string.

Her fingers closed around Tom’s diary, and she breathed hard-her eyes going wide as she picked up Tom’s diary and held it over the cauldron. “Wait-no-“ She whispered-not wanting to lose Tom-was the heir trying to get rid of the only thing capable of helping her?!

The diary dropped into the cauldron and (y/n) lurched forward, feeling a hot wet heat bubble out of her eyes and mouth, black ink like blood dripping down her skin-staining it. Her vision blurred in and out of focus as she watched the potion bubble and condense, the ink dripping from her eyes and mouth moving on its own towards the cauldron.

She tried to move back but the spell circle below her prevented her from moving too far-the magic pressed against her back as the 2nd spell circle drew the condensing potion and the ink blood towards it, the two combining and growing into a humanoid form.

She tried to wipe the ink-blood from her face, only smearing it and staining her hands, she gasped helplessly, feeling very lost now-Tom was supposed to help her-he was supposed to tell her what to do next after the heir was sealed.

She felt a hand curl under her chin and her eyes snapped up-her heart stopped.

“…T…Tom?” she asked, quietly…horrified. There he was, in flesh and blood and color. He smirked, looking down at the cauldron separating them and kicking it aside, the now empty cauldron clanging loudly on the chamber floor, rolling away and into the water that lined the hallway path.

(y/n) watched it roll into the water before a smooth, charming, soft and calculating voice interrupted her thoughts. “You played your part perfectly, my dear,” Tom’s voice cooed, his fingers tugging at her chin again to make her look back up at him-her breathing getting faster by the second.

“You-you-“ (y/n) stuttered, unable to make her thoughts coherent. What was going on? Why had Tom emerged from the potion? Where was the heir of Slytherin who’d been possessing her?

He seemed to hear her jumble of thoughts, and he chuckled, kneeling before her and taking her face-cupping it in his palm, his thumb rubbing across the ink/blood that stained her cheeks and lips. “So oblivious my dear, can you not see the obvious before you?” Tom cooed, squishing her cheeks and making her sit up on her knees to bring her closer to him, his breath ghosting over her face-warm and real.

She shook in his grip, her brows furrowed as she breathed heavily and quickly. Tom chuckled, deep and…dark, the smirk on his lips growing to a grin, he leaned closer to her, his nose brushing against hers-his skin pale in the eerie green gloom of the chamber.

“I am the heir of Slytherin, you were simply a pawn in my game.” He whispered, his thumb brushing against her cheek-almost lovingly. (y/n)’s eyes widened further somehow, and she let out a short gasp and Tom chuckled again, standing up, still holding her chin-not allowing her to back away from him.

“You-you…lied to me,” she whispered, tears, stained dark like ink, bubbling down her face. Tom gave her a slight pout, squishing her cheeks and shaking her head gently.

“I never lied, I simply…omitted some truths. Though I did not lie when I said I grew fond of you,” Tom cooed, forcing her to her feet and pulling her into his arms, his grip like an inescapable vice. “My plans for you changed long ago, and now-I’ll be keeping you, my dear.” Tom hummed, his hand tangling into her hair and tugging it to yank her head back.

“W-what?” (y/n) whispered, breathing heavily as she stared at Tom in horror. “You-you tricked me!” She nearly yelled, finding her voice and Tom only smirked, his arm around her waist impossibly tight.

“I did.” He hummed, gazing at her with dark hooded eyes, the brown of his eyes still so clearly visible even in the dark of the chamber of secrets. “And you were too easy to fool my dear-well have to work on that-but lucky for you, you’re entertaining.”

(y/n) swallowed harshly, opening her mouth to curse him out but he yanked her hair again and nearly squished her face into his, his eyes boring into hers. “You’re mine, (y/n),” he said, and she hated how good it sounded when Tom said her name. “And now we are bound by magic itself, your blood runs through my veins, your flesh is my own, your soul intertwined with mine,” A near psychotic grin grew on his lips, his eyes glinting with madness. “you’re. Mine.”

(y/n) shook in his grip, pushing at his chest but his forehead pushed against hers, their hair blending together. He smelled like metal and cologne. “Mine.” Tom whispered one last time, pressing his lips to hers.

-“Good” ending-

welp...there it issss~! hope you guys liked thaatttt, i had so much fun writing itttttt CC ending coming soon! since that was the 2nd most voted on for the poll, bad ending will be posted last :3

taglist!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq

@theicypiscean @discofairysworld @simpforlh44

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Summary: June brings the end of Harris's preschool career and the official beginning of your new life as a family of three--with a little help from your friends, of course.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), p in v, mentions of phone sex, grief and loss

WC: 7.8k

Chapter 20/20

A/N: With the official end of Trapped Under Ice, I am now opening up requests in the TUI universe. Thank you all for taking this journey with me as I processed my own grief. As long as you keep requesting, I will continue writing for our little family 💚

Thank you to @rip-quizilla for making that scene stronger. Ily, bb.

Divider credit to @saradika

The diner is bustling with customers, happily chatting over stacks of pancakes and overstuffed omelets. Coffee carafes clink against chipped mugs as the waitstaff pours refill after refill. 

You weave through the rows of tables, careful not to bump into servers balancing trays of food or busboys carrying the used dishes and silverware. A small yellow gift bag is clutched in your hand, and you hold it to your chest to protect its fragile contents. 

Harris spots you before you can see him; his little arm shoots up from where he’s tucked into the booth next to Wayne. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he frantically waves, his grin wide enough to stretch off of his cheeks. “Over here!”

You laugh, watching as Eddie scoots from the middle of the seat to the end, making room for you to sit down. There are two steaming cups on his side of the table, centered on little saucers that are likely older than you are. 

“Morning, baby,” he greets you with a smile, leaning in to give you a small kiss—no tongue, of course—as you slide in next to him. “You sleep okay last night?”

You nod sheepishly, remembering the phone conversation the two of you had had, well after Harris fell asleep. Eddie’s sultry voice had guided you through touching yourself; the next-best thing to having his own fingers inside you. 

“Wish I could be there right now,” he’d murmured into the receiver, so low that you could barely hear him. The faint sound of his own fly being lowered punctuated his words. “Wanna make you feel so good, Sweetheart, but I know you’re being a good girl f’me tonight, aren’t you?”

You bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping to blame the heat creeping up your face on the drink, and take a hearty sip. It’s a little sweet, but mostly bitter. Just how you like it. 

The crinkling tissue paper as you lean back in the booth draws your attention to your company and away from your indulgent memories. “Happy Father’s Day, Eddie,” you kiss him on the cheek, your lipstick tinting his stubble pink. “This is from me and Harris. Be careful with it.” There’s a deliberate vagueness in your warning, not wanting to spoil the surprise. 

Eddie cocks his brow, clearly not expecting any sort of present from you. Shocking, considering you’d taken Harris to the Paint-n-Play on Wednesday during your usual tutoring session time, and you’d figured he would have spilled the beans as soon as he and his dad had a moment alone. He rustles around the bag with dramatic flourish, trying to build anticipation but only succeeding in testing Harris’s patience.

“Open it, Daddy! Open it!” Harris bounces up and down in his seat, mouth sticky and teeth tinted purple with grape juice as he urges Eddie to stop dragging out the process. Wayne discreetly places his palm behind his grandson’s scalp, protecting his head in case he rocks too far back. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart did it together!”

“You did, huh?” Eddie chuckles, pulling out a ceramic mug. It’s painted sky blue, and Harris had insisted on making purple polka dots, splotchy as he’d haphazardly dunked the brush in paint and pressed it to the plaster. Written in bright orange blocky letters is DAD; you’d helped him sound out duhh-ahhh-duhh, his little tongue poking out in complete concentration. Your only visible contribution is the tiny green 1997 painted along the handle, marking the first year you’d celebrated Father’s Day together.

The multitude of complementary colors and mismatched designs should clash. The dots look more like disfigured spiders than circles. The 7 you’d carefully written with a fine-tipped brush is slightly smudged from where Harris had picked up the mug before it had fully dried, and there’s an extra curving line extending from the first D in DAD after he’d started writing the letter backwards.

To Eddie, it’s perfect.

“I love it.” Brown eyes find his son’s hopeful gaze that eagerly awaits his father’s reaction. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” He places the mug on the table next to the coffee-filled one in front of him, tipping its contents into his gift. A few drops dribble down the side, but most of it ends up where it should. A success, in his opinion. He takes a hearty gulp, not caring that the hot liquid singes his taste buds. “Is this magic?” He holds the mug up to his face, studying it like it’s a precious stone. “Because, I swear, it makes this coffee taste better.”

The little boy beams, exchanging an elated glance with you. “Ms. Sweetheart, did you put magic in it?”

Eddie chimes in before you can respond. “I bet she did. She’s sneaky with it; always sprinkling it where you least expect.” His empty hand finds your thigh underneath the table, silently claiming it as his own. “I don’t know how she does it,” he muses wistfully, adding another sugar packet to the mug and swirling it with a spoon until it’s dissolved. Like it was always part of the coffee from the jump. 

“Speaking of presents,” Wayne chimes in, unearthing a tiny, newspaper-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and handing it to his nephew. “‘S, not much, but it’s a Father’s-Day-slash-housewarming gift for ya.” 

“I thought we agreed on no gifts,” Eddie shakes his head, suddenly self-conscious about arriving empty-handed. 

“Well, I lied.”

Wayne watches as Eddie tears into the paper. Whatever home run or double-header had made the front page of the sports section is irrelevant compared to the mystery item that is snugly tucked between baseball stats and the upcoming game schedule. 

A small gasp leaves his mouth as he unwraps a wallet-sized picture frame; the word family is etched into the wood right above the plastic-protected photo. 

It’s from Harris’s bowling party; the one Wayne had taken of you and Eddie on either side of the birthday boy. Happiness radiates off of the three of you with such intensity that it seems impossible for it to be captured in a still frame. He’d forgotten that Wayne had even snapped it.

“Wayne, I…” Eddie struggles to find the words he needs to properly convey his feelings. The tip of his nose burns with the anticipated influx of emotions. “I’m gonna put it right next to my alarm clock, so it’s the first thing I see every morning.” 

You lay your head on his shoulder, the edge of his lips finding your forehead in a half-kiss. He soaks in the comfort you bring, absorbing it through every pore as he exhales and feels himself relax.

The waitress comes over with a notepad and a smile. “You folks ready to order?” She clicks her pen, poised to jot down what the four of you want to eat.

“Chicken fingers, please!” Harris announces, perching up on his knees and leaning his elbows on the table. “With French fries!”

The waitress, whose name tag reads Bee, offers a sympathetic smile and a soft click of her tongue. “I’m sorry, buddy. We don’t start serving lunch until 11:30.”

The boy’s lower lip quivers at the news, having his heart set on eating his favorite food. You can see his perfectly curated routine begin to crumble, taking his excitement with it. “But…but I even said ‘please!’” he insists, voice cracking. 

You step in quickly, wanting to salvage the Father’s Day celebration before Hurricane Harris can brew up a storm. “Hey, Har, I know you’re disappointed about the chicken fingers, but I have a super special idea.”

“Wh-What?” Misty eyes indicate that tears still threaten to spill over his lashes. 

“When Grandma used to take me to the diner, we used to split silver dollars. They’re pancakes, just smaller.” You take a deep breath and smile, hoping and praying that your plan works. “Would you like to share some silver dollars with me? And we can come back and get chicken fingers another time.”

Harris considers your proposition, rubbing his hands together along his knuckles to soothe himself. Finally, he says, “Can we eat them with syrup?”

“That sounds delicious.” You lean over and ruffle his hair, careful not to let any loose strands land on the table. “You wanna tell the waitress?”

“Mmkay,” he nods, turning to Bee and smiling. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are gonna have the, um, little pancakes.” He frowns, unable to remember the dish’s name. “The dollars?”

Bee laughs and nods, jotting it on her notepad. “An order of silver dollar pancakes, coming right up. And for you gentlemen?” She brings her attention to Eddie and Wayne. 

The older man clears his throat, ordering a Western omelet with home fries and rye toast. Eddie asks for the same but with white bread. “And a refill on the coffee,” he adds. 

Bee promises to be back shortly with the food, and the four of you resume your conversation. 

“We’ll get to take a new picture next week at someone’s graduation,” you say with a smile, looking in Harris’s direction. “Are you excited, Har Bear?”

Harris takes another messy sip of grape juice. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna go to kindergarten soon! But first is summer.” 

“Summer first, then kindergarten,” you agree, sipping your coffee before it gets cold. You’re no stranger to it, often setting down your to-go cup at work and forgetting about it until well after morning circle time, but you relish any chance you get to enjoy it while it’s still warm. “I was thinking: once you and Daddy are all moved in, we should make plans for this summer. Like the zoo, or the pool…”

“Yeah!” Harris claps his hands together and grins. “Or Disney World!”

Eddie’s ears perk up at his son’s suggestion. “Not this year, but maybe soon.” If he can continue moving up the ranks at the record store, coupled with the two of you splitting rent, it might even happen next year, but he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t guarantee he’ll keep. “And we’ll drag Grampa Wayne with us.”

Wayne responds with a shake of his head. “You’re outta your mind if you think I’m goin’ on any of those roller coasters.”

“You’re gonna sit and ride It’s a Small World the whole day?” Eddie teases, leaning back in his seat. 

“Damn straight.”

The food comes out ten minutes later, steaming plates carefully placed on the table. You cut the silver dollar pancakes into bite-size pieces, pushing half to the side nearest Harris and the other half closest to you. A glass syrup carafe waits to be used, its handle sticky with residue. 

“Say when,” you tell Harris, drizzling it back and forth across the plate. He waits until the pancakes are drenched before stopping you.

You watch as he uses his fork to spear some pancake, pops it in his mouth, and chews thoughtfully. “It’s yummy!” he declares triumphantly, already scanning the plate for his next piece. “This is my favorite food ever!”

You, Eddie, and Wayne share smiles; none of you take his declaration too seriously, knowing he changes his favorite anythings on an hourly basis. Still, a win is a win, and avoiding a chicken finger-induced tantrum is no small feat. 

Eddie spreads a pat of butter over his toast, but his eyes never shift from you and Harris sharing breakfast. You’d asked him whether he prefers blueberries or chocolate chips in his pancakes, and the discussion quickly devolved into a competition to see who could come up with the grossest pancake addition. 

“How about…” Harris wiggles his nose, “broccoli pancakes?”

“Ew!” You stick out your tongue in disgust. “That was a good one, but I think I can top it. Would you eat…” you tap your chin in contemplation, “fish stick pancakes!”

Harris squeals, far from an inside voice, but no one wants to correct him. “That’s super yucky! Fish stick pancakes?!”

Eddie smiles, tucking into his own food. He wants to savor the joy, the warmth. The twinkle in Wayne’s eyes, the upturned corners of Harris’s lips, the trill of your laugh. He wishes he could capture the feeling, but a mental image will have to do. 

He inhales and allows himself to be wrapped in the unconditional love he had once convinced himself he didn’t want nor deserve. 

The Hawkins Preschool cafeteria has once again been transformed. The custodians folded the long tables, propping them against the wall, and set up rows of folding chairs, leaving a small aisle for the graduates’ families to find their seats. 

Other parents stare as Eddie walks in, perspiration prickling under his arms as he hears them whispering about the kid who ran away. It’s audible enough for Wayne to hear; he rests his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before they take their seats. 

Jeff and Dustin arrive a few moments later, noticing Eddie and Wayne in the small crowd and shuffling over. Eddie pulls them each in for a quick hug, and Wayne does the same.

“Glad we made it,” Dustin says with a sigh of relief. “My flight got delayed half an hour, but we made up the time in the air.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “It didn’t help that we had to stop at a payphone so you could call your precious Suzie-Poo,” he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of a smile on his lips, proud of the way his friend cares so deeply for his partner. “Anyway, we’re here now.” He takes a seat next to Wayne, shifting so he can speak to Eddie. “Is Harris excited to graduate?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head at the recent memory of his son prancing around the apartment that morning in his cap and gown, small body drowning in the flowing green fabric. In that instant, Eddie could picture him as a young man, crossing a much larger stage to receive his diploma from Hawkins High. If Higgins is still the principal, Eddie might have to teach Harris the family tradition of flipping him off. 

Sue Sinclair makes her way up the small staircase to the podium, adjusting the microphone so she speaks into it easily. “Good morning, parents, siblings, and other special guests. Welcome to Hawkins Preschool’s Moving Up ceremony.” She beams, holding for applause. Eddie eases back into his seat; he’s known Principal Sinclair for years, since Lucas had joined Hellfire, and she’d recently stepped up to take over teaching Harris’s class for the remaining weeks of the school year. After the little boy had given his statement to the police, Marion and Paula’s teaching licenses had been immediately terminated, and negligence charges were currently pending.

“Before we get started, I’d just like to make an announcement.” Sue Sinclair looks over to where your class is standing, patiently waiting their turn to receive their sticker-laden diplomas. “I am pleased to announce that our very own Mr. Will Byers,” she extends her hand in Will’s direction, “will be our newest head teacher starting this fall.”

Though everyone in attendance is clapping, it’s obvious that Eddie, Wayne, Jeff, and Dustin cheer the loudest. Will blushes red, unused to being the center of attention, but the smile on his face shows how excited he is to take on this new role. You wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and pull him in for a proud hug.

“Our students have worked incredibly hard this year, learning their letters, numbers, and how to be a good friend,” the principal continues. “And though we will miss them dearly, we are thrilled to send them off to kindergarten with these new skills. So, without further ado, let’s bring out our graduates!”

The ceremony begins, starting with your class. You stand at one end of the stage, sending each student off to where Will is waiting at the other end as Principal Sinclair reads out each of their names. They take their certificates and pose with baby teeth on full display while their parents snap photos from disposable Kodaks and bulky Nikons. All the seemingly endless days, the menial fights over sharing toys; every moment was worth it if it led to this.

You usher the kids to their seats in the front row after your final student’s name is called, spotting Eddie in the crowd as you sit down. He winks, the corner of his eye mischievously crinkling. You smile, taking full advantage of the other parents’ distractedness and give him a little wave; the exchange a private love letter.

Both of you bring your attention back to the stage when Sue Sinclair calls up the next class. Harris stands towards the center of the line, excitement buzzing through him at a rate that cannot be contained. He rocks from the balls of his feet to his heels, back and forth as he awaits his turn. His brown ringlets poke out from underneath his cap, grazing just above his eyebrows. 

Principal Sinclair pauses, looking directly at Eddie when she speaks. She understands the gravity of this accomplishment, her lipsticked smile reaching her eyes as she leans in towards the microphone.

“Harris Munson!”

Eddie jumps up, hollering as loud as his vocal cords will allow. Harris accepts his diploma and smiles wide, both at his accomplishment and at the sound of his dad cheering him on. His expression further brightens when he sees Wayne, Dustin, and Jeff beside him, and he waves while jumping up and down.

He’s supposed to walk from stage left to stage right, just as all the students before him have done; in typical Harris fashion, he takes the road less traveled. With a mighty leap, he catapults himself off of the stage and makes a beeline straight for you.

Two little arms wrap themselves around you, squeezing you as tight as they can. The brim of his cap is flush against your cheek. “I did it, Ms. Sweetheart!” His words carry a lightheartedness that only a child’s joy can bring. “Did you see?” He picks his head up from where it was nestled against you and giggles, dimpled chin brushing your bicep.

You tilt the mortarboard slightly upward and press a kiss to his forehead. “I saw, Har,” you tell him, using your thumb to wipe away your lipstick print, “and I am so, so proud of you.” Readjusting his cap, you usher him over to where the rest of his class is standing, a garden of happiness blooming within you. 

You look back at where Eddie is sitting, wishing you could sit next to him, fingers laced together while his thumb caresses the side of your hand and grasping your hand tighter when Harris’s name is called. For now, it’s enough to know that you’ll be by his side throughout all of Harris’s future endeavors and accomplishments. A team. 

Eddie’s palms press into his slack-covered thighs as he peers over at you and grins. Bright, adoring eyes meet yours, speaking every thought that his mouth can’t say right now. I love you. Thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.

You accept the wordless praise with a smile, one that reaches beyond its usual confines. 

Dustin notices the small exchange, and he nudges Eddie’s ribs with his elbow. “She’s the one, huh?” He cocks his eyebrow knowingly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie murmurs, no longer paying any attention to the remaining names being read aloud. “You ever think you’d see the day I settle down?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an ounce of insecurity behind them. 

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin nods without hesitation. “Always knew you would.” Carol Perkins shushes him from the row ahead, but he just flips her off and rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t you remember that time in high school when we got sloshed—sorry, Wayne,” Jeff cuts in sheepishly, “and you went on a rant about how you secretly wanted the whole wife, kids, picket fence deal?”

“And I believe I threatened to kick your ass if you told anyone,” Eddie points out, embarrassment turning his face red, apparent even under the light stubble covering his cheeks. 

Wayne chuckles softly. “I already knew. About the dream and the booze.” He laughs a bit harder at Jeff and Eddie’s shocked expressions. “If you keep replacing vodka with water, eventually, it’s all just water.”

“Ya don’t say.” Dustin’s sarcasm bleeds through his whisper. 

Principal Sinclair reads the last student’s name with the same enthusiasm she’s given all of the other kids. “I now present to you, the Hawkins Preschool class of 1997!” She mimes tossing a cap in the air, the students’ cue to do the same. 

The fervor of the cheers and applause could shake the cafeteria. Whistles pierce the air and reverberate off of the walls, none louder than Wayne Munson’s. You stand up, smoothing the pleats of your dress to soak in the achievement of completing another academic year; for you, this one in a brand new school with more challenges than you’d cared to endure. 

You and Will take in the sight of nine cherubic faces looking up at you in admiration, though they’re beginning to shed their baby fat. This was certainly a journey, and you couldn’t have asked for a better teaching assistant to walk beside you through it all. 

“I’m gonna miss you next year,” you say, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

“I’ll be right down the hall!”

Begrudgingly, you let go of him, not losing the pout on your lips. “That’s way too far for me.” The two of you both know that you’re serious; it won’t be the same without having him in the classroom with you. “Can we try to match up our breaks and eat lunch together?”

“It’s a date,” Will laughs, then juts out his chin to motion behind you, “but it looks like I might have some competition.”

Before you can turn around, Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist. He tugs you in close so your back is flush against his chest, the buttons from his shirt pressing into your spine. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs in your ear, lips so close that they brush the lobe. “Are you ready to start your summer?”

You kiss his cheek, adjusting your stance so you can walk hand in hand to get Harris. He torpedoes himself into Eddie’s stomach, shrieking with laughter as he’s lifted into the air. 

“Har Bear, you’re a preschool graduate!” Eddie smacks a kiss to his son’s temple. “How should we celebrate, hmm? Ice cream? Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Ice cream!” Harris decides easily. “I’m gonna get cotton candy with rainbow sprinkles and—Uncle Dusty!” He squirms out of Eddie’s grasp and races over to Dustin. 

“What? I’m not an ice cream topping!” Dustin teases, crouching down to ruffle Harris’s curls, matted to his scalp from being hidden underneath the cap. 

Harris giggles. “You’re so silly!” He glances back and forth from him to you, and you realize he doesn’t know that you’d met in March at Will’s birthday party. “Uncle Dusty, this is Ms. Sweetheart. She’s my almost-mommy.”

“Ohh,” Dustin replies with a smirk, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “I think she needs to be your dad’s almost-wife first–”

“All right! Ice cream time!” Eddie hurries to cut him off, glaring at Dustin for bringing the idea to Harris’s attention again; he has constantly been hounding him about marriage ever since he found out about his newest living arrangements. The idea of marrying you, however, eases his tension and has a smile tugging on his lips; a slight switch in expression that his uncle spots easily.

Wayne’s gruff whisper is in Eddie’s ear. “Sounds like it’s time for an almost-proposal.”

“Shut up!”

“I think that’s the last of them!” Jeff calls out, lugging the final cardboard box from his car into your apartment. He wipes his hands on his jeans and closes the door behind him, careful not to wake up his sleeping daughter in Viv’s arms. He looks over at where you, Robin, and Jess have begun unpacking, laying Eddie’s clothes in one pile and Harris’s much smaller clothes in another.

Jeff places a kiss on the crown of Viv’s head, then plants an identical one on Ettie’s. “Where are the guys?” 

“Harris’s room,” you say; bittersweet taste tinging the new label. It feels better than Grandma’s old room, but part of it will always belong to her. You hear Harris giggle as Eddie and Dustin re-assemble his racecar bed, spreading warmth that gently softens the sadness until it resembles sentimentality. “I’ll come with you; I have to put this away, anyway.” You grab the pile of Harris’s clothes and tuck it under your arm.

Eddie and Dustin sit on the floor, rogue screws spread around them as they intently study their project.

“I think this piece,” Dustin muses, picking up one of the sides of the frame, “connects with this one like that…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” He takes the screwdriver and twists the metal into the slot triumphantly. Your breath catches in your throat as his bicep flexes with the motion, perfectly displayed where his t-shirt sleeve had been cut into a makeshift tank top. “There we go.” He looks up and realizes you’re there, perfectly still as you watch him. “Hey, Sweetheart. Y’good?” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye; though it was inadvertent, he knows what he’s doing to you.

You only nod, the movement dragging you out of your momentary stupor. He chuckles as you place Harris’s shirts and pants in the dresser, fingers clumsily slipping over the knobs. It’s the same unicorn-covered dresser that had sent Harris into hysterics a few weeks ago, but you’d painted over it before he could see. It’s now a dark navy blue, no evidence of what once lay beneath.

Eddie’s amused by your reaction and subsequent embarrassment, running his tongue over his teeth and chuckling to himself, but his victory is short-lived.

“Hey, Casanova,” Dustin’s exasperated voice cuts in, pointing to the section Eddie just assembled, “you put the piece on upside down.”

Harris crinkles his nose. “What’s Casanova?”

Eddie buries his head in his hands as Dustin scrambles to explain. “It means your dad is trying to show off his handyman skills for your almost-mommy.” He winks in Eddie’s direction before leaning in and exaggeratedly whispering in Harris’s ear, “but he’s not doing a very good job.”

As soon as Harris distracts himself with setting up his toys, Eddie is saluting his friend with a quick flip of his middle finger.

You crouch down, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry; I’m very impressed.” He blushes when you kiss his cheek. “Your uncle’s going to be here with dinner in a few minutes, if you burly men want to wash up.”

Eddie nods, turning to his friends and his son and speaking in a deep baritone. “You heard the woman! Let us refuel so we may regain our strength for hunting and other masculine activities.”

Harris’s brows pinch together in further confusion while you and Dustin share an eyeroll, but the three of you follow your fearless leader out of the room. Eddie lets the two of them pass and waits for you, sliding a coy hand in your back pocket and murmuring against your hair. “Man and woman make fire in bedroom later?” He continues using the deepened voice.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s…that’s not a no, though, right?”

The summer sun is still high in the sky when Wayne arrives at the apartment, three pizza boxes still warm in his palms. He’s barely able to put them on the table before Harris is racing towards him, ready to give a full report of the goings-on of his day. 

Jess sits at the table, baby Ettie laying in her arms while she gives Viv a break and feeds her from a bottle. You place a piece of pizza on the paper plate in front of her, and one in front of Robin, who adoringly watches her girlfriend dote on a baby. Wayne sits in the third seat, thanking you with his kind smile as you pass him a slice.

You join Eddie and Harris on the couch; Jeff plops down in the La-Z-Boy on the other side of the coffee table, motioning for Viv to sit atop his legs, while Dustin has seemingly been relegated to sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Uncle Dusty, come sit next to me!” Harris chirps, nearly knocking your plate out of your hand as he bounces onto your lap. His curls tickle your chin as he leans over to take a bite of his dinner, dragging the cheese halfway off of the crust before Eddie holds it in place. 

Dustin obliges, squishing in next to you with an apologetic laugh, but you don’t mind. Dialogue melds together, with people seamlessly leaping from one conversation to another. Robin poses the question of what everyone thinks Ettie’s first word will be, which prompts Wayne to tell the story about how Eddie tried so hard to get Harris to say dada, only for the boy to scream out “SHIT!” in the middle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 

Jeff looks across the room at his tiny daughter. “Please don’t let that be your first word,” he jokingly begs her, picking a greasy pepperoni piece from his slice and dropping it in his mouth. While he’s preoccupied, Viv steals a bite of the crust. 

“Are you all going to the July 4th carnival next week?” Eddie asks through a cheesy mouthful. 

Everyone except Dustin answers in the affirmative. “Flying back home tomorrow,” he says, a round of booing from the group forcing him to pause mid-statement, “but Suzie and I are—hey, not cool!” He swats at a crumpled napkin that Eddie lobs at his head. “Suzie and I are going to try and visit for my mom’s birthday in August,” he finishes with a pointed look. 

Harris tilts his head back so you can see straight into his flared nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart, you’re coming to the carnival with us, right?”

“Of course! What rides are we gonna go on?” you ask, his little feet kicking at your calves as joy flows through his body. 

“The Ferris Wheel! Me an’ Daddy always go on that, an’ now you can come with us!”

He and Eddie always go on the Ferris Wheel. It’s a tradition that they share, and now they’re allowing you in. Now you’re part of it. 

You smile, kissing his forehead in a celebration of belonging and delight. “That sounds like a lot of fun,” you agree. “Do you think Daddy will play the games and win a prize for us?”

Eddie groans at your suggestion. “Those booths are all rigged. Every last one of ‘em.”

“I dunno,” Jess says teasingly, wiping Ettie’s chin with a cloth bib, “I won a stuffed animal from the whack-a-mole last year—”

“Oh, yeah! And I beat the Test Your Strength one,” Jeff adds slyly, getting a rise out of proving Eddie wrong. 

Eddie throws his voice to a falsetto, mocking his friend’s words. “I beat the Test Your Strength one,” he echoes nasally, chuckling when Jeff scoops up the napkin previously thrown at Dustin and hurls it towards Eddie. 

The rest of the evening continues like this, silly banter and recalled stories that end up being cut short or watered down for the impressionable ears listening in. It’s love in its many forms: between partners, between parents and their children, between friends. Each peal of laughter, each shared smile, each memory made adds to its foundation; brick by brick, layer by layer. 

The pink hues of sunset darken to indigo and eventually settle into a night sky, the moon shining brightly and unobscured by clouds. Eddie, Jeff, and Dustin finally manage to put the race car bed back together—and just in time. Harris’s yawns become more frequent until he can no longer fight sleep, dozing off with his cheek pressed against your chest. Soft snores leave his slightly agape mouth. 

“I feel the same way,” Wayne jokes, standing up from his chair and stretching his back with a grimace. “It’s been a long day.”

The group nods in agreement, quietly gathering their belongings and saying good-bye. 

“Thank you all for helping today,” you say, handing out hugs while keeping Harris sound asleep. He stirs but doesn’t fully wake up, even with all of the commotion. “We really appreciate it.”

Eddie seconds your sentiment. “It means a lot to us. We know we owe you a lot more than just dinner—”

“You guys are family,” Viv interrupts with a smile, gently rocking a sleeping Ettie in her arms. “This is what family does.”

A calloused hand rests on your shoulder from behind the couch; you lean your head on Eddie’s forearm and give it a small kiss. The delicate hairs brush against your lips, and you relax into his touch.

Your guests file out, already making plans to meet up at the carnival. Eddie closes the door behind them, insisting that he can beat Jeff at the Test Your Strength and demanding that his friend buy him a funnel cake when he does.

There’s a soft murmuring coming from Harris’s room, and Eddie walks as quietly as he can. He watches silently, shoulder pressed against the doorframe, as you place his son’s head onto the pillow. The crisp sheet is draped over his sleeping body, followed by the Buzz Lightyear comforter you’d bought at Kmart especially for him. Harris stirs for a moment to grab onto the blankets, tugging them to his chin and scrunching up his legs to assume a cozier position. He lets out a content sigh and slips back into his dream.

“Good night, kiddo,” you whisper, kissing his mop of curls. You look around the room, so different from when it belonged to Grandma. It seems larger, his race car bed taking up much less space than her queen-size bed did. A Lego set lies where her shoe rack once stood. The top of his dresser is covered in Hot Wheels, rather than the makeup and jewelry that Grandma had on hers. 

But it’s a good kind of different, one that comes with the natural ebb and flow of life. It brings inevitable change, and it’s your choice whether to embrace it or run away.

“You’re a natural at this bedtime thing, y’know.” Eddie’s voice, low and soft, places you back in the moment. He holds his arms out for you to nestle into them, holding you as close as he can. His thumb caresses your shoulder blade. “It normally takes a couple of stories, half a dozen pee breaks, and a horse tranquilizer to get him down.”

“I think being completely exhausted from moving helped,” you laugh into his chest. “And I’m right there with him. Man and woman might have to postpone their fire-making.”

Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against you. “Yeah, it wouldn’t be my best performance. Wanna make this one really good, since it’s a special occasion and everything.” He closes Harris’s door and leads you to the bedroom you two now share. “We gotta christen this bad boy.”

“We’ve had sex on this bed a million times.” You recall the ways his lips traced over your body, eager to memorize every inch of skin. 

“But that’s when it was only your bed,” he points out. “Now it’s ours.”

Ours. Our bed, our home, our family. Ours. 

You can barely change into pajamas before you’re falling asleep; Eddie manages to slip off his jeans and shirt, clad in plaid boxers and nothing else, before crashing down into the bed you now share. His arm slips around your waist, fingers reflexively dancing up your shirt, while he buries his head in the nape of your neck. 

When daylight breaks and the sun streams through the gaps in the blinds, Eddie has assumed a starfish position, blankets flung to the edge of the bed in what must have been a middle-of-the-night move. You’re still dozing, but he knows he has to wake you if he wants to sneak in some alone time before his son wakes up.

“Morning, gorgeous.” His breath tickles under your earlobe, pulling you close to him. You hum, not quite awake but no longer dreaming. “C’mon, wake up, pretty thing.” He licks his lips before kissing the exposed skin of your shoulder blades. 

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you turn over and face him. Your mouth lazily finds his, the cotton fabric of your pajama top fisted in his grasp. The outline of his morning wood is visible through his boxer shorts; it presses into your thigh as though greedily searching for your warmth. “You always wake up this hard?” you tease, fingertips already fiddling with the worn elastic waistband and dipping towards the treasure beneath. The scruff of his pubic hair grazes your knuckles. 

“Only when I dream of you,” he mumbles with a cheeky grin, climbing on top of you while shedding his only clothing article. The boxers fall to the floor unceremoniously. 

“Smooth.”

“I thought so.” Both hands cup your cheeks; you expect him to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Love waking up next to you.”

It draws a memory of the first morning you’d spent together; an inadvertent sleepover that culminated in one poorly-crafted lie and two broken hearts. He looks at you now, tired and yet still beautiful. How could I have let her slip by? How did I almost miss all of this?

You take the lead this time, arching your back so your torso melds into his, connected by desire. Eddie has your tank top off in a heartbeat, tongue swiping over your nipples the instant they’re visible. 

“Perfect,” Eddie groans, making his way down your abdomen. He places your legs on top of his shoulders, lips delicately fluttering over your clit so he can lick a broad stripe up your labia. “I know we should be having a quickie, but I can’t turn down breakfast in bed.” His face is buried in your pussy, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory. 

You giggle at his phrasing. If you question it, you know he’ll make a comment about you being good enough to eat. You give in instead, letting him ravish you just the way you both crave. 

One finger, then two, slip into your waiting cunt while his mouth focuses on your clit. You’re dripping with your arousal and his saliva; you bite your lower lip to stifle the noises begging to be heard. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you croak, trying to keep your voice down. “I’m so close, s-so close…”

Eddie says nothing, continuing to worship the taste of you. You can feel his victorious smile as you cry out his name in orgasmic bliss, toes flexing just as he brings you down from the high. 

“Need you, fuckin’ Christ,” he breathes, tempering the stimulation pulsing through his cock with a few short tugs. 

You nod, already electrified at the prospect of being split open on him. He sinks into you with a muted moan, savoring the way you envelop him within your warmth. “All mine, Sweetheart; you’re all mine.”

“Mhm,” you manage. Your fingernails dig into his upper back with a force that will surely leave crescent indents in his skin. “I’m all yours. Always will be.”

His thumb runs along your jaw and he smiles. She’s all mine.

The ridges of his dick form a delectable friction along your walls. Each thrust is a mutual give and take, an exchanging of selves with every breath. 

“I love you.” Eddie’s impossibly beautiful like this, hands holding your hips steady while sweat drips from his forehead onto yours. He brings your fourth finger between his lips; you can feel his tongue claiming it as his own. “And I’m gonna put a ring on this pretty little finger of yours, okay? Just want it to be perfect for you.”

You weave your fingers into his sleep-mussed curls and kiss him. “Don’t need perfect. I’ll marry you without a ring.” Whatever elaborate fairytale wedding you’d been crafting in your head is suddenly wholly unnecessary; all that matters is that you and Eddie commit to one another. But you know him well enough to not question his devotion to you. If Eddie Munson wants to give you the proposal of a lifetime, then that’s what he’s going to do. 

There will be no unkept promises this morning, no shattered hearts to mend.

He can’t hold back any longer, spilling into you with punctuating grunts. You receive every last drop gratefully, a part of him within you, and you finish for the second time today. 

“I meant it.” He gently withdraws from inside you, both of you mourning the loss of the other’s body. “When I said I’m gonna marry you, I meant it.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Eddie grins, laying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. Sweat glistens along the sparse hairs curling over his bare chest. “Are you hungry? I know I worked up an appetite.”

You kiss his nose, biting the end teasingly. He yelps in mock pain, so you kiss it again. “I am, but I have to be honest—between all the unpacking and sex, I don’t have the energy to make breakfast.” 

“Me neither,” he admits with a laugh. “Why don’t we shower, wake up Sleeping Beauty,” he nudges his head towards Harris’s room, “and go to the diner.” He stretches and stands, eyes drawn to the nightstand, where the framed photo from Wayne leans against a porcelain lamp. Happiness captured with the click of a Kodak.

You’re smiling, thinking about sharing silver dollar pancakes with Harris again just like you used to do with Grandma. Somewhere along the way, you grew from the child to the adult in that scenario, passing on a tradition you never even knew had been started. 

“That sounds amazing.” As you say it aloud, something in addition to hunger gnaws at your stomach. You’ve been putting it off, hiding from the truth, but you want to stop pretending. You want to feel everything that comes with accepting reality. Without sorrow, you would never recognize joy. Without grief, you won’t understand the depths of our love beyond the physical plain. 

“Could we make a quick pit stop first?”

Though it’s still morning, the late June humidity has your shirt clinging to you, sweat beading along the collar and around your bra clasp. You close the car door behind you; Eddie shuffles to open the back door for Harris. The little boy unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the booster seat, glancing between you and his dad. You take his left hand and Eddie takes his right as you walk over to the stone. 

“Hi, Grandma,” you whisper, crouching down to better see the engraving. Gently, your fingers dance over the etched words: Beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. “I know I haven’t been by to visit you yet, but I’m here now.” You muster up a small smile. “And I brought Eddie and Harris with me. They…they loved you, too.”

You falter for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Eddie’s hand rubs your upper back, not caring about how perspiration-soaked it is. 

“Do you want some privacy?” he murmurs. “Harris and I can wait by the car. You take as long as you need.”

You nod, watching them walk hand in hand to give you your space to grieve. Filling your lungs with a deep breath, you speak what’s been in your heart. 

“I need to thank you,” you start, talking directly to where her name is engraved, “for a lot of things. But I guess, um, the most important is how you taught me to forgive without taking shit—can I swear in a cemetery?—from people.” Your laugh is heavy with the weight of remembrance. 

“I miss you. A lot,” you continue, tears now spilling freely from your eyes. “I miss doing puzzles together. I miss cooking together. I’m going to try and make your applesauce for Thanksgiving this year. I think Harris will really like it.” You swallow thickly. “If you’d met him before you got sick, you would’ve adored him. He’s got the biggest heart of any kid I’ve ever met.”

You’re finding it easier to talk; everything you need to say is coming naturally and without hesitation. 

“He’s…he’s living in your room. I guess, technically, it’s his room now. But a little part of me will always consider it your room, too. And I think that’s okay.” You nod, confirming to yourself that it’s all part of the process. “He keeps asking me and Eddie when we’re going to get married. To be honest, I’m kind of wondering the same thing.” You smile at the thought of marrying Eddie, maybe even legally adopting Harris, if that’s something they also want. “I’m not in a rush, though, but I really do believe that Eddie’s the one. He’s my person, and I’m his. So, yeah, I’m definitely hoping that he proposes sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I always thought losing you wouldn’t be as hard as it was, because it felt like I had already lost you to dementia.” It feels silly to admit aloud, but it’s the truth. “I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be easy. But I promise, I’ll stop by more often, and I’ll have plenty of cute Harris stories to tell you.”

There’s just a bit more that you need to share before you can go. “I love you, Grandma. And…thank you for loving me, too.”

You stand up, pressing on your knees to ensure your balance. Taking one last look at the stone, you run your fingers over the jagged marble and turn back towards Eddie and Harris.

The little boy is perched on his father’s hip, squinting into the sunlight to make out your form. “You ready, Ms. Sweetheart?”

You blink through misty eyes, staring at the two people in front of you. Ten months ago, if someone had told you that your one-night stand at a dive bar would end up being the love of your life, you would have laughed in their face. But the universe does what it must to remain in balance, and it doesn’t humor any arguments.

Inhale, exhale, repeat. This is where you’re meant to be. This is who you’re meant to be: a partner, a friend, an almost-mommy.

“Yeah,” you say finally, the tears clearing from your vision and a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I’m ready.”

--

💚

[satocidal]

—RING RING!!

Say hello to our Operator Number One, and A Fan-Favourite:

── .˳⁺⁎˚ This caller seems to be into Humiliation and Generalised Behaviour of a Male Thot

── .˳⁺⁎˚ Geto Suguru — Starring in ⌞Valedicktorian⌝

Synopsis: your favourite academic rival, he wants to respect you, he really does—but he just prefers seeing you cry more.

— Word count: 5.4k

— A/n: I know I know, we all love a cocky lil shit that my man is <3 and tagging @romiyaro @blkkizzat @driaswrld becauseeee I can <3333 (+this was supposed to be way longer but haha)+i know it's supposed to be more smut and kinky than story line but :( I apparently cannot do that

— Warnings: Smut!!MDNI!!AFAB! Fem Reader x Suguru; teasing on both parts; dubious methods of going along a lot of things; Suguru is almost like a soft Dom; hints at spitting; Suguru eats reader out through her panties; reader almost gives Suguru a strip tease or smn like that; Suguru is a cocky bitch; emphasis on academic validation somewhat; smut begins late; reader is a virgin; Oral (fem receiving)

~November Beginning~

[8:03 a.m.]

Your eyes scanned the board fast, alone you stood towards the first corner—aware all too well you’d never even fall below

the first row.

Rank Marks Allotted

Y/n L/n [Valedictorian] 97/100

Suguru Geto [Salutatorian] 91/100

You didn’t bother lowering your eyes any further—a huge grin remained etched on your smile as you rocked back and forth about your Position, waiting for him to drop by.

Eyes flitted simply through the screen of your phone—mindless swipes, mindless likes passed on Instagram as you patiently, a whole wait of 7 minutes, you counted—how so very careless.

You beamed as his silhouette came into view, and his best friend’s right beside—lanky, they both stood, you never cared enough.

“You’re late,” you murmured as he shoved past you—an audible grown let out even though he just knew with the way you stood, that he was beat again.

But this time the difference stood of a worthy 6 points—just 6, how easily that he could’ve had you.

Satoru simply cackled beside him—indulging you with the very complicated handshake he and you had designed in the first year of your college.

“You're both stupid,” he, satoru, grinned, “I barely passed and that's so sick,” you simply chuckled at his words—joy emerging more so at Suguru’s annoyance.

“You’ve got the scholarship from your football team Toru’, unfortunately for us—6 marks make a huge difference,”

“6 marks don't matter,” Suguru grumbled, a frown lay upon his lips — “we’re not kids-”

“-except you will cry like a kid when you go back to your dorm because 6 points was what stopped ya from Rank 1,”

A smirk you bore—he wanted to drill it out of you so bad.

“The only crying that goes off in my dorm are the girls I bring about,” he smirk was his this time, your face twisted in disgust.

“And had you spent that time actually studying maybe you'd have gotten somewhere—and is that a confession that you’re that bad a fuck?”

He was tall, but the certain way he towered over most was amusing–not you though, never you.

Equals, in most senses of the word.

“But then,” you continued, and grinned wide—“don't suppose two minutes could've saved you from anything.”

A brow he raised, “you've been learning insults from middle schoolers—and what would your virgin ass even know?”

Jaw clenched you stared, Suguru Geto had realized your insecurity quick back in the first year—exploiting to all ends possible.

“Maybe you should try learning from them, gonna help you with grades and STDs,” a thin smile you wore, a thin smile he did too.

“At the end of the day, we both get the same grade, same gpa and probably the same job offers,” he paused—staring at your face—you took your chance, “And yet you’ll always remember that I was the one that beat you to the first place.”

A wink you passed, a clenched jaw he stilled.

—.—.—

[1:10 p.m.]

The semester was finally over—Satoru’s parties galore.

A tradition almost, celebration of his, scoring marks enough to pass—an ‘ode’ he deemed it, to you and Suguru for tutoring him together.

More so just an attempt to to spew you both together, failing just as always.

“You’re gonna show up tonight doll?” Satoru asked—eyes staring at your face from beneath—head placed in your lap, feet in Suguru’s lap as you both read books that couldn’t have been more neglected when the tension between the two fell so high. .

A hummed you passed, “Will you let me say no?”

A snort Satoru let out, answer all too obvious.

You sighed, “Tonight, sure but I have some projects to catch up and-”

“-perfect,” Satoru interrupted, all to your annoyance, “hm?”

“Suguru has some remaining too, right?”

Interested piqued slow and with a topic that deepened his natural frown, he—Suguru stared at you.

“I’m in mood for help from her,”

Eyes narrowed, you scowled, “yes well I’m not offering any either ways,”

“Not like you could,”

“Says the- ah!”

A sharp yelp you couldn’t help when Satoru pinched your side in midst of your banter—Something in Suguru found the noise adorable—he hated this little something, “excuse you?”

“You wouldn’t shut up otherwise, right?” A bashful smile he held, and so it happened you just couldn’t hold him guilty, an eye roll and you paused.

“Whatever, I’ll show up tonight but don’t hold me up for the rest of the week ok?”

“As you wish, doll,” a sharp edge Satoru held to his words, invoking a sense of alert in both you and Suguru—neither daring to consult the other.

-

[7:55 p.m.]

“And who exactly are we wearing this piece for huh?” Shoko’s eyes fell on you hard—“Who’s got you that hooked?”

A roll of your eyes, “Just wanted to feel cute is all,” you muttered under your breath—and that was mostly true.

It’s wasn’t such that you’d found someone, nor were you dressing to impress, but then, it was out of spite in some sense.

His words rang in your head- in wasn’t an insult really, being a virgin was fine, it was ok, but you hated even the littlest ‘advantage,’ that he could hold on you.

And so you trudged it on, the little black skirt that Satoru gifted you, so small you’d initially kept it only as a joke—and oh how the turn tables.

The top wouldn’t stand any better at all, almost sheer it lay—a floral print to keep what little of your modesty you wanted to show.

Pathetic and desperate, you called yourself, for turning about so easily—pathetically desperate however, you wanted Suguru to be.

-

[8:15 p.m.]

A step into his mansion, a wolf whistle greeted you.

“Shut up Satoru,” you mumbled, a shy smile playing on your lips—almost guilty, “I know it’s not for me, so who’re you dressed to impress?”

A heat caught up slow on your face at Satoru’s words.

Your eyes landed on Suguru who came sauntering just beside him—jaw clenched at just the sight of him, the perfect way his jean jacket clung to him, “And why couldn’t I dress up for you?”

Satoru’s smirk only grew, all too aware of the hostility and the sexual tension that Suguru and you’d fostered—his biggest mystery lying in the way that it was third year of your college degree and you still hadn’t fucked the lights of each other.

A wink, charismatic, most would say, “because you know I prefer you without anything on princess,”

Had you not known Satoru you’d have probably been disgusted, but wonderous what two years of being together did to a person and their adaptations—and you wondered just why you hadn’t adapted to his black haired best friend.

A soft punch on his arm, you shook your head with a smile, “Really though, you look gorgeous—right Suguru?”

Your eyes moved slow, hesitant almost to meet his, “Yeah sure,” he shrugged casually, and just a little your heart hurt too.

Pathetic.

“You don’t look half bad,” you spoke still, adamant to be the bigger person—adamant to have something going.

He eyed you for a second, then another—a scoff, “what’s up with that top? Fix it please- you look like a slut,”

Silence, the music blaring almost stunned out.

Your face burned, heart all the more—a baffled “what?” Escaped your lips—and possibly Satoru’s, you weren’t sure

You weren’t sure if anything there on..

A roll of his eyes caught you off guard further, heart beat racing despite you when he leaned a little towards you, “if you’re going to try dressing like a prostitute, carry it with confidence—do you have any idea how many guys have been staring? Your boobs are practically falling from in there,”

You hated it, hated his words, his demeanor, his proximity—the way you almost found it endearing that he looked away when you tried your best to fix it, the way he almost ‘shielded’ you from anyone looking at you weird.

You hated it all.

“I don’t need you to ‘watch out’ for me,” you spat—Satoru lay forgotten in the moment, maybe he’d slipped moments ago—had he been there at all?

“Not looking out for you doll, just sayin it doesn’t suit ya,” you wanted to thank the dimmed down lighting, your tears were at the brink of falling, you wanted to punch him.

“What would you know what suits me and what doesn’t,” shaky a voice, drowned by the loud music—a smirk Suguru adorned, “think your rival would pay enough attention on you to know what suits you and what doesn’t,” his grinned only ever widened as he stepped back to stand beside you, “but sure, you do look fuckable,”

Jaw clenched, your eyes stared at each other, “whatever,” a shrug you passed, retired.

“Wait,” and wait you did, persistently at his words, “I’m assuming you don’t know most people here, given you’re the pretty nerd-”

“-do you have anything of material to say or should I go?”

The annoyance lay naked, so did the hurt in your voice.

Suguru was perceptive, perfect in the way his eyes trailed down your body, “I’m just saying, tag along with me—don’t want no accidents happening to my nerd,”

“You’re a nerd too,” a scoff, yours, “that’s what you caught from the whole statement?” A chuckle, his.

You bit the inside of your cheek hard, a mindless nod as you let him hold your hand, unsure of it entirely but never more certain that it was the right thing.

His nerd.

-

[8:45 p.m.]

“You drink?” A shake of your head and a sigh, his, “Really are a goody two shoes huh?”

A scoff you passed at his words, “Nothing goody two shoes about it, just that I don’t like the taste and-”

A snort interrupted you, “Pardon, the taste? Alright then, let me order my doll a strawberry milkshake,”

Your scrunched face only ever helped his face concort with laughter further, “I’m not your doll, or nerd or nothing. Don’t call me yours.” yours Words all too defiant, he smirked.

“Eh?” A pause, heavy, “Don't remember hearing objection for when you’re with Satoru,”

You bit the inside of your cheek-how exactly could he make everything so tough?

“Satoru’s a friend,”

“I'm not?”

You grinned, the lighting lay dim—his smile a blur, as was yours — “You're nothing more than competition,”

A grin, his too, “Ouch—after we spend so much time?”

“What, you enjoy it? You're masochistic too huh?”

“If you're the one who's gonna be torturing me doll,” a wink he offered, you bit the inside of your cheek, as insufferable as always.

However before a retort would fall, before your grin would broaden, before his smirks would lighten—“Here’s your milk shake ma’am!”

An internal groan and a condescending little, “be a good girl and finish it all up for me doll,”

A groan- which bartender even agreed to make milkshakes? At parties? At night?

Your eyes scanned the tag he kept attached, Toji F.

-

[11:44 p.m.]

“Suguru,” your words were frenzied, grip tightening on his arm—eyes moving over the surrounding crowd, “I don’t wanna play,”

Drunk.

The usual it was, late the party started and ended up almost at the next morning, you could hear Satoru Hollering down in the background, eyes narrowed down onto the group of your peers that sat in a circle.

Truth and Dare, the tradition.

Everyone you laid eyes upon, drunk, you were sure Suguru himself stood slightly tipsy, saved for your sake entirely, “Cmon,” his words a drag, “It’s just truth and dare, what’s the worst that can happen?”

And you knew well, that was exactly how all the bad teenage movies began.

“Everything, please, let me go if you wanna continue, that’s alright-”

“-no, can’t let you go,” you smiled slightly at the little pout on his face, adorable he surely was when drunk.

“Yes you can, I can walk back from here you know-”

Sudden, all too sudden he pushed you slight, pinned to the wall.

Words interrupted by his weight shifting onto you, your eyes widened at the closeness- “Won’t let you go alone, too many creeps,” a sincere nod was all you could pass, mouth dry and heart racing—he smirked.

“You like this?”

A shake of your head—another pout from him.

“You lie too much,” he murmured against your form, a hand placed softly on your waist—never moving an inch—“you would do well with a round of truth and dare actually,”

You giggled at his words, heart racing fast still as his hot breath fanned over you, “What if I just choose dare?”

Closer, somehow, he only seemed to move closer.

“You’re too chicken to do that,”

“But what if?”

“Do you?”

“Maybe”

“Ok,” he paused—stepping back, “here’s child’s play for you,” the smile he held now was concerning in ways—you didn’t mind it, “I dare you that if I manage to score better than you in the next semester, you have yo do everything I say for a good one day,”

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out at that.

“You have a thing for losing huh?”

A scoff, an eye roll—why was everything from him gorgeous?

“It’s a dare babe, take it or leave it,”

“Sure thing Suguru,”

“Atta girl,”

—.—.—

The tension was held high, the second semester was to end soon—you weren't all so tensed for that, however something did bother you.

Suguru Geto, for the first time that your eyes had seen, was studying.

Day in and day out, the library was where most people would find you—not Suguru Geto, certified fucker of the batch.

“Pass me the book when you’re done please,” your eyes narrowed at the tone, so damn sweet , “please,” uttered so carefully, you wanted to punch him for no reason.

“Of course,” you smiled back politely, wanting to be anything but so.

your eyes flickered over to Satoru—grinning as he texted the girl he met at the party.

“Why don’t you teach Satoru a lil something too though? He could use your help,” it was a constant, you and your little comments, hell bent on distracting Suguru, hell bent on getting more study time than him—hell bent on winning that particular bet.

He’d been drunk, you were hoping he’d have forgotten—hopes always lay crushed, for in the certain way he grinned when he looked at you, it meant something, surely a promise of winning from him.

Suguru Hummed as he always did—hostility between the two of you hadn’t ebbed exactly but it was bearable—he made it bearable, simply readjustments.

Ever since the party, you weren’t sure if you liked the change or no.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the lies Satoru fed you about him wanting you — or the half truths Your heart screamed, of Suguru wanting to screw you.

However, not being rivals never equated to being friends—obvious in the way not even his begging had softened your heart to lend him your notes.

“Why don’t you? Seem pretty done with the outline of it,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pertaining a gaze on you softly, he grinned, “Too busy to let a friend fail?”

A defiant ‘yes’ you muttered, eyes stuck on Suguru- adding a little, “we’re not friends,” but pausing as the long fingers moved, long fingers reaching out to give you a note—“what’s that?”

He grinned as he shrugged, but before you could open the little piece of paper, folded all so carefully, “ah ah ah,” he chuckled, “open it outside,”

And you did—walking away with a huf—decided that the library was no longer just your spot, not a glance shared with Satoru, focused all so much at the objective of hogging as much study material as you could for the exam.

A sharp inhale though, annoyance seeping in as you viewed the message on the white piece of paper, decorated with all so many hearts, “Good luck losing, doll-face.”

—.—.—

~Night before the Exam~

“You’re sick for this, you know,” Satoru’s words rang in his head, he scoffed, maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t.

How could it even matter?

The flashlight remained tucked between his arms, working, quick, eyes scanning over the question paper as he stood in the Dean’s Office.

Being a good student, trusted student of course had it perks—the security cameras just somehow malfunctioning could be no coincidence either.

And then again, he wouldn’t cheat a lot, just enough, just to beat you — just enough.

-

And so the next day, while your confident farce broke just a little to see him ask for more sheets than you, to see him write longer—to see him almost do the exam better than you, something told you that the bet wasn’t made in vain, Suguru Geto was a man of plans.

—.—.—

~1st December~

You were sure you’d left before him, before anyone—as always.

And yet, just the way your stomach twisted when you saw his figure standing by the notice board—his grinning face—that was all it took for you to realize that something wasn’t right.

“The fuck are you grinning for?” The nervousness was obvious—Suguru loved it.

“Mind the language love,” he mused—stepping aside, letting your eyes find their own horror.

Rank Marks Allotted

Suguru Geto [Valedictorian] 95/100

Y/n L/n [Salutatorian] 94/100

And oh how he loved the way your face fell, how he loved the green in your eyes and the red tint of your of your burning ears.

“The test was hard though so you know-” the glint of victory all so evident, “-shut up,” you huffed.

“Shut the fuck up—it’s just-”

“-just one mark? Yeah, no.” He snickered behind you, “and ah? Aren’t you the one supposed to be doing what I say? No more teetering me about, doll,” a wink, a shiver up your spine.

He wasn’t wrong.

“Whatever, what do you want? Laundry done or what? Breakfast-”

Suguru’s head tilted to the side, adorably, as if a puppy’s, “you think that’s bad? Oh jeez y/n,” he grinned, “somebody’s in for a surprise?”

And before the realizations of what something worse had to be, before a retort could befall your lips, Suguru Geto had spoken once more—voice defiant, “To my dorm, now.”

The wind around you was cold, yes but chilly was the sensation you felt down your spine.

-

The room was organised, books on the right shelf, mangas on the left—his family photo on the right corner of the desk and a poster of his favorite baseball team right in front.

Nothing you would ever find your room as—scrawled up notes lay shoved in every corner—silly gifts from friends and a pile of unwashed coffee cups.

The contrast was thorough.

Your eyes bore into his, his into your figure-“what do you- why are we here?”

Suguru glared for a second, “what did you think would happen when you lost?”

Not this.

Or, well.

You’d assumed Suguru would use his chance to embarrass you, thoughts were quick though, infested you sat through seconds and hours, days even—thoughts of Suguru Geto and your “humiliation”.

It wasn’t that you wanted to lose, but you wouldn’t have minded—and so a blind eye was all you had to offer when Satoru dropped the keys to the dean’s office—a deaf ear turned when you heard him bragging of the plan to his girls, a stifled laugh when Suguru smacked his head for talking too much.

But now that the situation lay bared, maybe, just maybe it wasn’t the best situation to be in.

Maybe, the nervousness finally crept into the skin—maybe, you realised, maybe you shouldn’t have.

Fortunately or not though, Suguru was perceptive as he was caring—somewhat, “Don’t be nervous, I’m not gonna- you know,” he grinned, thoughts pertaining to your imagination—you didn’t like where and why it lead to everything it did.

Suguru hummed as he walked about, you stood all so awkward in the middle of his room—a hand patted the space next to him on his bed, “come on up here doll,”

You didn’t want to, but oh how the feet moved before they could stop.

“I don’t want to,” he smiled, soft, “well, you do realize what I want, right?”

A gulp, “I’ve never-”

“-I know,” he paused, “I’m not gonna force you into it, only if you wanna-”

You did want to, hell if there was anyone you wanted to trust, it would forever be Suguru Geto somehow.

“What if I say no?”

“Then feel free to just lounge about, I’d love talking to you,”

Heart pace quickened, you licked your lips—“I thought you- you’d make me…”

“Not a monster doll, not gonna do nothing you don’t want,” and just then you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face too, fuck, you really were into him huh?

A bite of your lips, a giggle his—“I think…I think you’ve won fair and square,”

Another small giggle, and boy was everything he did adorable—“you know I cheated-” you bobbed your head, and oh how he was down bad for you too.

“C’mere,”

-

15 minutes in, you’d already taken off your rings—the rules of the game Suguru wanted you to play were simple.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he’d chuckled, “but, s’not gonna help today,” a book lay in his hands— “I ask the questions and you answer, for every wrong answer you strip, take off one piece of clothing,”

A grin you passed, “of course,” you’d snickered—sitting across him.

“What is my favorite color?” A brow you raised, confused still as to why Suguru even bothered opening the book which read, “NEUROROBOTICS” when all he bothered asking were stupid questions with stupider answers.

“It’s…white? Or uh, blue?” Shots in the dark, all wrong—what pained you though were his answers—“nu uh,” he grinned, “take something off again, and better not tease me again,” you giggled.

The last two questions were just trivial as this, about him, and you’d answered them right too—except he just didn’t accept them at all.

You cursed internally, for skipping wearing socks because as of now you you were debating for the crucial options, the jeans or the top.

Suguru grinned, “my favorite color’s that though, you know when you blush,” you groaned at his words—chuckling along with him because frankly, when had you ever ‘blushed’ for him at all.

Your eyes moved fast, the top it was.

His eyes were sharp, stuck onto your form, pulled right over your head—Suguru was loving his day.

“White huh?” he grinned, your face burned at the way he stared at your Lacy white bra, “it is my favorite color after all,”

“Ask the next question” you snapped—hand reaching for a pillow to help yourself.

Suguru’s smile was soft, “ok, how about…how long have you wanted to fuck me?”

It physically made you uncomfortable to how hot the tip of your ears had gotten.

“No point lying, since we're both here to fuck anyways,”

You pursed your lips, it was true but then—“since the beginning of this year,”

Suguru chuckled at that, clicking his tongue—“the pants now?” your face dropped, it was risky—it would be a first, and with the way Suguru sat fully dressed, humiliating.

“I'm not lying-”

“Liar,”

“I'm not-”

“I'll make ya take off two pieces if you keep this up,”

Two- pants and either of your bra perhaps, or panties, neither seemed better than the other.

A retired ‘ok,’ you choked out, scoffing at how he smirked when your fingers moved in to pull the pants down, slow—“what's the correct answer?”

“The day you first saw me,”

You despised the way he was correct.

Pushed down your legs and thrown aside your pants lay—your eyes and Suguru’s, trailed up all the way to your calves.

“Matching set? You wanted this to happen hm?”

And you despised the experience and knowledge he had—his gaze remained stuck on the white Lacy panties you'd decided to wear.

For him.

How scandalous.

“Continue the game,” Suguru grinned—”how long have I wanted to fuck you?”

Your mouth ran dry—oh?

“The beginning of the semester?” you guessed, truthfully, heartbeat fastening when he smirked—”you have no idea how long I've wanted you here, like this,”

He stood close now, very close, his hand itself moving to unclasp your bra—warm breath fanning your face, “how long?” you whispered.

“Forever. Since I saw you,”

A giggle you let out—“you- no way, you simp,”

A giggle, his—“and there, you ruined the moment,”

A giggle, together.

“Let me see?” Suguru murmured, pulling away softly, slowly the pillow off of your form—finally, the bra pulled away too—his hands held your breasts softly.

You were sure though, the nervousness all too evident in your face, “easy, I'll take care of you,”

You passed a nod in response— biting your lips as the way his hands squeezed you, held you—his thumb rolling onto your nipples—half hardened they stood already in the chilly air of his room.

“You're damn gorgeous,” he whispered- lips pressed against yours, fingers massaging your boobs carefully, “fuck I- you've never?”

A swift shake of your head, “mm’ gonna corrupt you tonight ok?”

And just like that, pushed down to your back you lay, “spread your legs doll,”

And you did, pace fastening as he leaned into the spot between your legs, hand lingering on your inner thigh—“are you turned on?” the smirk on his face was telling, of course you were, “got turned on thinking what I would do to you? Aren't you just the cutest?”

You were inexperienced, sure, but you weren't going to let him tease you all so much-“hurry it up I- hah!”

Or maybe you would, you didn't know.

A soft gasp interrupted your words quick, two fingers pressed directly onto your pussy, prodding about, dancing slight as he tramped about your opening.

“You must've touched yourself?” the question itself felt sickening, you shouldn't have to tell him—“yes,” you mumble slowly, “ever thought about me?”

Another ‘yes’ indiscriminately fell off your lips.

Right at your position you saw him smile, dumbfounded when he whispered a ‘me too,’

Suguru’s other hand—fingers ran close circles on your thigh, “I won't go all the way tonight, you're scared and that's fine—” you gulped, reassurance flitting through you, “wanna make you feel good though,” and exactly as his sentence ended, he propped your legs all the way to his shoulders, despite all that he was doing, an almost innocent —“comfy?” he dropped in the name of formality.

“Relax,” he cooed, soft and gentle as he slowly leaned in, “you're in good hands ok?” your breath hitched still as the first lick came about, wetness spreading all the more than it already was—you were sure you’d never found yourself all so wet.

“Suguru- I- c-can't we do this without the-”

Without the panties—you were already wrecked for him.

A Cheshire smirk spread on his features from down below, “no, we'll go step by step, that's how the studious ones go, right?” you held back a moan when his fingers found your clit—rubbing slow circles, panties getting drenched in your own slick.

“Was that a moan doll?” his words suddenly caught up—a sharp slap landed on your pussy, eliciting a small cry, ”I wanna hear everything from you doll, every whimper, every cry and moan—everything,” you could only nod, and gasp slight as he dived in to press a kiss against your clothed folds.

“I'm so glad you're wearing white sweets,” a devilish grin his and an embarrassed squeak yours as he pinched your folds through your panties—drenched in result of his spit and licks and your own slick, completely see through.

And all throughout, Suguru was relentless in the way he spread apart your folds easily, peeking at the hints of your exposed cunt.

Fingers hooked to repeatedly rub your clit, so slow, never the right pressure or pace—snickering at how your mouth hung ajar, eyes drooping with pleasure.

Low pants and shy breaths only encouraged the raved haired boy still, sparing fingers and diving right in with his lips attached to your pussy lips and panties—tongue pushing against so obscenely against your hidden hole.

A sheepish grin he held, “Suguru,” you let out a broken sob, “please,”

The whine had him feeling back, looking up at you—eyes never Fuller, almost as if drunk in your juices, “hm?”

“Want more—pl-please,” it was almost a drag, your words.

Sobbing almost, at the way he chuckled—“nu uh, this is still technically your punishment, you know that right?”

But even so, Suguru knew he wouldn't deny you pleasure, just…maybe, just tease you a lot—drive you over the edge with his words before his tongue would do it, but he would get to it, surely.

And deep down he knew it too, he couldn't have had anything in him to deny you it either, not when you squirmed for him so adorably.

Just as before, Suguru attached his tongue to your see through panties, swirling around your folds and nub—until he playfully nimbled on it—basking in your gasp and sudden clutch of your fingers on his hair.

Suguru wrapping his lips over your clit once again, feverishly suckling on the swollen flesh— tempted to just move your panties to the side and eat you out like a starved man who hadn’t eaten in weeks.

But then, even with, close to none, experience that you had —you were sure that is what carnal desire would be presented as.

The idea was enticing, to just have it all flipped to the side—but he wasn’t one to give up so easily—and then he did want to see you suffer and cry all for him. Even if he’s currently losing his mind to actually get a taste of your pussy.

“S-Suguru—please, s’close!” his tongue danced about your folds, warping and swiveling the mushy flesh until your legs started to shake—as did you.

Your back arched, loud moans leaving your mouth—almost pornographic they sounded, as your hand was still gripping Suguru’s locks tightly.

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks with your jaw slightly hanging open but no words were escaping your lips, your body spasmed, your grip on suguru’s hair loosened as you held onto the sheets underneath you instead—before you came really hard, drenching your panties even more with your cum.

Suguru was kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as he looked up to you, licking his lips, practically tasting your cum on his tongue already. You swallowed thickly, meeting his intense gaze on you and before you could mutter or say anything— Suguru had beat you to it.

“Not done yet doll,” he grinned—fingers hooking in the waist band of your panties—“next question decides if you become the good little student that you are, and I teach you how to please me—or you get punished more when I get it actually gt to play with your pussy,”

A broken giggle escaped you, “oh well, what is it?”

Suguru couldn't help but giggle at you too, so damn cute that he found you, “how many times are you cum for me?”

All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, angst, mentions of shooting, confusion, flufffffff

The morning light streamed through the windows of the bridal studio as I unlocked the door, stepping into the familiar sight of lace and silk. It was a quiet Saturday morning after my date with Chris, and the shop felt like a sanctuary from the whirlwind of emotions swirling through my mind since last night. I flicked on the lights, the soft glow illuminating the rows of white gowns hanging in neat lines. Saturdays were always busy, especially with brides coming in for final fittings, but today felt like it would be a bit harder since there was a heavy weight in my chest that I couldn’t seem to lift.

As I settled behind the counter, I turned on the small radio, keeping my normal routine. Soft music played for a few moments before the news interrupted.

“Breaking news this morning: Boston police are investigating two separate shootings that occurred last night. One incident took place in Somerville, while the other was in the South End area. No fatalities have been reported, but authorities believe both incidents may be gang related. More updates to follow.”

I paused, my fingers freezing over the appointment book. Two shootings? I felt a chill run down my spine as I listened. How awful it was that violence like this was so common here the last few years, and how easily lives could be shattered overnight. The mention of gangs tugged at something deep within me - a sense of unease I had been trying to push away since Chris abruptly left last night. I shook my head, trying to refocus, but it lingered like a shadow at the back of my mind.

I went through the motions of my day, greeting brides and their families with the same professional smile, but my thoughts kept drifting. The night before had left me feeling.. off.. and heavily single. Chris and I had started the date on such a high, but the way he left so suddenly, without really explaining much, left me with a sinking feeling. It wasn’t just disappointment, it was confusion, too. Was I the only one catching feelings? It made me feel fucking stupid.

After my shift ended, I headed home, my legs heavy with exhaustion. As soon as I walked through my bedroom door and threw myself on my bed, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it, expecting a message from Willow, and sure enough, her name lit up my screen.

Willow: “Hey girl! There’s a party at Tyler’s tomorrow night. You should totally come! And see if Chris wants to join ;) Maybe ask him to bring along a certain friend too..”

I sighed, dropping my phone on my bed. A party. Part of me wanted to go and let loose, but the other part was still tangled up in confusion about Chris. I hadn’t gotten the chance to fill Willow in on it yet. Was I being ridiculous for feeling this way after one date? I barely knew him now.. he wasn’t the same Chris I’d remembered from my teenage years. He was more.. closed off, like there were parts of his life he couldn’t or wouldn’t let me see. The uncertainty of it all scared me.

I told myself I’d wait a bit to reply to Willow. As I was about to set my phone down, it buzzed again.

Chris: “Check your tree house.”

I blinked, confused. What could he possibly mean? I pushed myself off of my bed and stepped toward the balcony door, pushing it open as the cool evening air washed over me. My gaze shifted to the old tree house in the backyard, a relic of someone’s childhood that hadn’t seen much use in years. With curiosity tugging at me, I slipped outside, my heart racing as I looked across into the tree house window that was now illuminated inside.

I stopped once my eyes fixated on what was inside, my breath catching in my throat.

The tree house was transformed. There were fairy lights hung around the edges of the roof, blankets and pillows spread across the floor, pizza boxes neatly stacked in the corner, a bouquet of wildflowers lying on top. It was perfect in a way I hadn’t expected, a small slice of warmth tucked away from the world.

I looked down from the treehouse and there, standing at the base of the tree, was Chris. His eyes met mine, a small smile playing on his lips as he waved.

"Hey," he called up softly. "Mind if I join you?"

I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart doing a strange little flip. “Get up here,” I laughed.

Chris climbed up with ease, as I climbed in through the window, his movements smooth and confident as he settled next to me. He glanced around at the setup, his expression a little sheepish. I laughed, warmth spreading through me. "This is really sweet, Chris. You didn’t have to do all this."

"I wanted to" he said, his eyes meeting mine in that deep, sincere way that made my heart skip. “I wanted to make up for last night” he said quietly. “I’m sorry about the way things went.. I really didn’t want to leave like that.. I felt like I messed up, and I don’t want you to feel like... I don’t care. Because I do."

I studied him for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It’s okay” I replied, though a part of me had been hurt. “I was just.. a little confused. I thought we were having a good time, and then you had to go so suddenly.”

Chris nodded, his face full of regret. “I know. I didn’t plan for it to go that way. But I really did enjoy our date, and I wanted to make it up to you with something a little more.. private.” He gestured to the tree house, the pizza, the flowers. “I figured this was a good place to start.”

I smiled, warmth spreading through me. “It’s perfect.”

We sat there for a while, sharing slices of pizza and talking. It was so easy to fall into conversation with him. Every now and then, I’d catch him looking at me with that same intensity I remembered from years ago, only now, it was deeper, more meaningful. It was like he was seeing me, really seeing me, for the first time. I had to admit, I liked the way it made me feel.

"You know" Chris said, his tone becoming a bit more serious, "when we were younger... I always thought you were going to do something amazing, I was always in awe of you."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You were always so determined, so driven. I mean, you seem to really be doing things for yourself Y/n."

I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes softened when he looked at me, and the way he seemed genuinely interested in me. It made me feel seen, like he really cared. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was scared. Scared because I could feel myself falling for him. Fast.

We kept talking, the hours slipping by as we shared stories, hopes, and dreams. The conversation flowed easily, and before I knew it, it was near midnight, and a cool breeze had started to creep into the air.

I shivered slightly, and Chris noticed immediately. "You’re cold" he said, concern flashing in his eyes.

"A little" I admitted, hugging the blanket around myself.

He glanced toward my house, then back at me. "Do you want to go inside? I mean, if you’re okay with that."

I hesitated for a second, but then nodded. "Yeah. My parents are still away, so.. there’s no issue."

We climbed out the tree house window, making our way back inside through the balcony door. The warmth of my room wrapped around us, and I gestured for him to make himself comfortable. Chris settled onto the edge of my bed, his eyes scanning the room before landing back on me.

"This is nice" he said, smiling softly.

I sat beside him, my heart racing a little faster now that we were inside. The atmosphere was different – more intimate, more charged. And yet, there was a sense of comfort that made me feel safe. Chris shifted closer, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him as he gently took my hand in his.

“This place is exactly how I imagined it would be” he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“What do you mean?” I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.

Chris chuckled softly, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “I don’t know.. It just feels like you. Neat, organised, but with a little bit of chaos thrown in.” He nodded toward my cluttered desk, where textbooks and random papers were strewn about. “Like that.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing as I sat down next to him. “Hey, I’m busy! College life is no joke.”

He grinned. “I know. And I still can’t believe you’re studying law.”

I felt my cheeks warm at the compliment, but his tone had a hint of something else – something more uncertain. “What?” I asked, studying his face. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

“No, that’s not it” he said quickly. “I just.. I don’t know. It’s a lot. A lawyer and a guy like me?” He let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s one hell of a combo.”

I nudged him playfully. “A guy like you?” I repeated, teasing. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Chris.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Maybe.”

Before I could respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen for a split second before putting it back without replying. The name had flashed across the screen too quickly for me to see, but there was something about the way he ignored it that made my stomach churn. Was it another girl? 

“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

Chris hesitated for a beat, then smiled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t, maybe I’m overthinking.. There’s no way he’d do all of that if there was another girl in the picture.

Chris’s hand was still held in mine and I could see the steady rise and fall of his chest. His presence felt so calming, yet there was this underlying tension, a kind of electricity I couldn't quite ignore.

I shifted slightly to face him, our eyes meeting. For a second, we just stared at each other, as if both of us were trying to figure out what the other was thinking. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips, and I could feel my heartbeat quicken.

“Chris..” I started, not even sure where I was going with it, but his name felt like the only thing I could say in that moment.

He leaned in a little closer, his hand gently finding its way to my cheek, his thumb lightly brushing my skin. The touch sent a wave of warmth through me, and I instinctively leaned into it.

“I’m really glad we reconnected.” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were so sincere, so full of something I hadn’t expected to see – vulnerability.

I felt the same vulnerability rising in me, too. “Me too” I whispered back, and before I could say anything more, he closed the small gap between us.

His lips met mine gently, testing at first, almost hesitant. But when I responded, pressing back into him, it was like something clicked between us. The kiss deepened, his hand moving from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer. I could feel my heart racing, but this time it wasn’t out of nervousness or fear. It was because this felt right.

For a moment, everything else melted away. The awkwardness of the previous night, the confusion I had felt.. all of it disappeared as the kiss continued, soft yet filled with an undeniable intensity. It was like we’d been waiting for this moment for years, and now that it was here, neither of us wanted to let go.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, and I smiled softly, my lips still tingling from the kiss.

“That..” I began, still trying to catch my breath, “was.. unexpected.”

Chris chuckled lightly, his hand still gently holding the back of my neck. “Yeah” he murmured, his voice low and husky, “but in the best way.”

I couldn’t help but agree. There was something about being here, in this moment, with him, that made everything else seem so far away, like we were the only two people in the world.

Before I could second-guess myself, I looked up at him and smiled. "There’s a party tomorrow night, Willow invited me.. do you want to come? She said you could bring Nate too if you’d like"

Chris smiled, his eyes lighting up in that familiar, charming way. "I’d love to. I’m sure Nate would too."

For the rest of the night, we stayed close, talking in whispers, sharing more smiles, more laughs and even a few more kisses. It was like we were stepping into something new together, something unspoken but full of possibility.

The nervousness I had felt earlier about catching feelings seemed to evaporate, replaced with something even scarier – hope. Maybe, just maybe, this thing between us could actually work.

a/n: are things going to work out???

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @slutniolo @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend

[armageddon-generation]

The Bear Season 3 is a bridge season that feels weird on purpose, but also has some big problems: A review/ramble

Season 3 is clearly a bridge season, and suffers from having been written & shot alongside season 4. As a result, unlike the seasons 1 & 2, it doesn’t feel like a distinctive or complete chapter of the restaurant’s life. Just half of one.

This is partly because there’s no ‘end-goal’ like in S2, or clear progression/visible improvement to the restaraunt like in S1. Season 3 is about stagnation. Most of its storylines are left unresolved- the review, Sydney’s job offer, Tiff & Frank’s wedding, Marcus being inspired by his mother’s death, Tina and the dying farmer’s market, Carmy’s conflicts with both Claire and Ritchie. All these threads will roll into Season 4, and Season 3 suffers from that.

PACING, FLASHBACKS AND TONE: FORM REFLECTING FUNCTION

HOWEVER. This being a ‘bridge’, character-focused season isn’t inherently bad. Individual episodes of The Bear still tear when they want to. Episodes 1, 2, & 3 are a very strong setup for the season and establish good momentum. Episodes 6 & 8 are fantastic character pieces, and 8 in particular made me bawl. Even the finale, though bogged down by masturbatory celebrity chef cameos, was a strong episode.

The problem is all the stuff in-between. The actual day-to-day running of the restaurant feels hollow and empty now. There’s a distance between the characters and it feels like they don’t interact as a group anywhere near as much.

Part of this is absolutely deliberate. People joke about S3 'method acting' its way into bad reviews to reflect the restaraunt, but losing steam and the connections between characters is genuinely a formal reflection of the kitchen crew's moods, as the day-to-day grind of running the restaurant wears them down.

The use of flashbacks in 3x1 is excellent, but Season 3 quickly becomes way over-reliant on them (episode 9 especially, oh my god). Again, this feels like a conscious choice to reflect Carmy’s state of inertia/the fact he’s perpetually trapped in the past. It makes sense, but that doesn’t give the show a pass for being boring, and 3x9 was the first time I’ve ever felt genuinely bored by this show.  

FUCK THE FAKS & NEGLECTING POC CHARACTERS

My other problems are much more clearly the fault of the show; I do not give a flying fuck about the Faks. Neil is cute in small doses. The brothers are great as soundboards for other characters; Theo getting Sweeps to talk about his backstory in baseball, the brothers comforting Donna at the end of 3x8 Ice Chips, or the haunting argument finally forcing Carmy to talk about Claire.

But on their own? When they’re just bouncing off each-other? These guys aren't half as funny as the show seems to think they are. And their scenes drag on so long. For example, the B-plot of 3x5 Computer wastes half of an otherwise strong episode with pointless fucking around, propped up by a pointless celebrity cameo. I do not Give. A. Fuck about haunting, Mr. Cena, why the fuck are you here.

The aggravating time-wasting is made worse by The Bear continuing to neglect and underuse its POC characters. This is the second season in a row where I’ve felt Syd only got the bullet-points of an arc. She is the LEADING LADY. Ayo is now the show’s biggest breakout star. USE HER.

I really enjoyed Tina's focus episode, but unlike Forks and Honeydew last season it doesn't move the plot forward, and unlike Fishes the flashbacks don't contextualize Tina''s actions in the present because she's barely doing anything in the present, despite the show setting up her struggles in the kitchen early in the season.

Meanwhile, Ebra got crumbs again and Sweeps got a single scene, which is tragically at least better than he had last year.

Marcus’ arc this year is a fascinating microcosm for the show’s themes, but it barely gets a second to breathe because we have to cram in another five minutes of the Fak brothers arguing about that time Neil got taped into a cardboard box. It’s ridiculous. And then they showcase Nat being all protective of Marcus in an episode he’s barely in, when she barely interacts with him. It feels unearned & disingenuous, using Marcus as a prop for a Hell Yeah gotcha moment.

I liked Josh Harnett though, that casting had purpose, and both Chef Terry and Luca were used excellently.

CAMEOS

The surprise celebrity cameos this year felt distracting and indulgent in a way last year’s didn’t. In Fishes the slew of cameos were a dramatic tool meant to disorient the viewer. This year, John Cena is here to distract you from how pointless this B-plot is, and we've brought in a bunch of famous chefs to tell you direct-to-camera why cooking and the service industry are so important.

The chefs in particular are bizzare after season 1 spent most of its time telling us how evil and toxic the fine dining industry is. But now it's actually just the fault of a few bad apples, and these guys are really rad actually?

CLAIRE

Much has been said about how Claire was an underwritten archetype for Carmy to project onto. Now, I don’t much give a fuck about shipping in this show, but it’s clear Claire & Carmy’s romance didn’t connect with most people. It felt hollow. At the time, I thought this was deliberate, like the tone and flashbacks this season; Claire’s writing reflected Carmy’s perception of her as a saintlike childhood daydream who could deliver him from all the stresses of his life.

But this season, not only does the show refuse to let Claire go, it doubles down on objectifying her as a prop for Carmy’s self-loathing, trapped in his memory.

Again, this might work thematically if I knew Claire as a person, or was at all invested in their romance, but I don't and I’m not. As it stands, the multiple extended flashbacks with Claire feel like futile attempts to plug the holes in Season 2's weakest storyline, and drag their episodes down. If we’re supposed to root for Carmy to find happiness outside the kitchen, this is having the opposite effect, and it’s made worse by it all being left unresolved by the finale.

Either do something with this character or move on, because right now every time Claire appears I clock out emotionally, and that’s not her fault, it’s the way the show treats her.

CARMY THE ASSHOLE

All this contributes to an overriding problem that I again think is deliberate, but risky; Carmy isn’t likeable this season. He causes his conflicts with Ritchie and Syd, to whom he has passed down his generational trauma. Carmy's menu is the biggest thing dragging the Bear into bankruptcy. Carmy has stopped working to resolve his familial trauma like in seasons 1 & 2, just as Nat starts making headway. He functionally doesn’t exist outside the kitchen, entirely preoccupied with the past & a girl the audience doesn’t care about.

Unlike previous seasons, the few times Carmy is called out for his bad behaviour he doesn’t make much effort to listen or improve. Again, I get that this is the point. Carmy is on a low, self-destructive ebb, and hopefully when things start resolving in season 4 he’ll snap out of it. But him dragging the show down with him has consequences.

EPISODE COUNT & FINAL THOUGHTS

A lot of people are saying that S3 only had enough plot for 2-3 episodes, and while I think that’s disingenuous- The Bear has always been a character-focused, vibes-first show- I do think it should've returned to the 8-episode count of season 1. You can consolidate the same amount of ‘plot development’ into fewer episodes while maintaining the deliberate sense of inertia. Cut back on the Faks and flashbacks to give more time to the kitchen crew, and many of the complaints would disappear.

Anyway, all this to say that The Bear season 3 is not Bad like some are saying, but it is a step down from its first two seasons. It feels like it’s got lost in its own head and lost a part of itself along the way, and while a lot of that is deliberate- formally reflecting Carmy’s internal conflict- it exacerbates existing problems (underwritten POC, Claire) and creates several new ones (celeb cameos, overusing flashbacks, unresolved plotlines) previous seasons were able to sidestep.

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF | ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER THIRTEEN | SERIES 

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

Ch. 12

Ch. 13

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, angst, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, and just being his sexy self. Possessive over his princess. Y/n parents disapproves of their marriage but they still going with it so a little ceremony is prepared. Happily married, they make love under the stars and maybe there's pregnancy going on 👀. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: I was on hiatus for a long time because of some private stuff but here it is. This is a little short because we are making to an end for the series so I hope you still enjoyed it!

Your father was hesitant to walk you down the aisle to the one creature powerful enough to destroy everything in his path so you understood his concerns as he held your arm in a deadly grip, feeling his discomfort for allowing his only daughter to marry a dangerous being.

As you saw your mother standing at the first row of pews, your heart clenched painfully when you saw her expression.

A mixture of sadness or even disappointment and fear crossed her face before she turned away with an expression that told you that there was no way you would ever see her again if you keep going with this marriage.

Your father's fingers dug into your arm even harder when he felt it as well but nothing else mattered when your eyes locked with your soon to be husband.

His gaze held a promise of full life of pleasure and happiness. His love for you was like an endless and eternal obsession which would never fade.

The ceremony went on smoothly, the priest saying words about the power of heavens above to bless your union and wish your happiness until death. The vows were exchanged, rings were placed on your fingers and it was time for the groom to kiss his bride.

Jungkook didn’t even wasted a second to lean in and press his lips against yours. His tongue danced against yours in a way that sent shivers through your body. It was slow yet passionate as if he had all the time in the world to make each moment count.

Pulling away, the throne room was silent after the kiss you shared and your king’s eyes were only focused on you.

“Now you’re really mine …” he murmured, pressing another kiss but this time on your forehead, “...for eternity.”

The only thing which bothered you was how your parents looked at you now, like they’d seen a monster rather than their daughter who has fallen head over heels in love with this man who could do such things with her mind.

They were disappointed because they thought that the king is just using you but you knew better. He loved you like you were the moon, brighter and brighter each day until finally, you shine more beautifully and brightly than anyone can ever hope to achieve. You knew that he loves you like you are someone special and someone he doesn’t want anyone to take from him but still, you couldn't shake off how your parents looked as you walked out of the throne room to start your new life together.

The same night after your wedding, you were sitting in the beautiful garden under the moonlight. Your dress sparkled in the moonlight while the grass was illuminated by its glow. The garden wasn’t particularly big but it was beautiful nonetheless. It overlooked the lake and the mountains surrounding it with the forest beyond.

In a soft cushioned swing you were sitting in your husband’s lap, his strong arms around your waist and his wings wrapped around the two of you protectively.

Nuzzling your neck, his deep voice rumbled softly in your ear,” How are you feeling, my love? Are you still sad?”

“A little, but not for much longer. I have you to make me feel better and you’ll always remind me of everything we’ve been through.” You replied softly, resting your cheek against the soft fabric of his cloak.

“It will be hard at first knowing my parents are against our relationship but I hope they will forgive me and accept you as my husband. I hope you’re not upset about them,” looking up at him beneath your lashes, you caress his cheek, his eyes glowing in the dark when he met your gaze.

“It’s cute that you think I’m upset over what they think of me. What matters now that your officially mine and even your parents will never stop me for having you,” before you can worry about his possessive tendencies, his lips brushed yours softly before continuing, “I can’t wait to make love to you every single night, darling.”

You flushed and leaned back against his chest with an embarrassed chuckle. “You just can’t say that, Jungkook. It’s not very gentlemanly for the king to speak in such a manner,” giggling shyly as he pressed light kisses along your collarbone.

Feeling his smirk, his hold tightens around you while his wing cocooned you both protectively and he murmurs,“It sound like you’re challenging your king to try something inappropriate to you.”

Before you could reply, he rips your dress open and you feel his warm fingers on your bare back. You hear a low amused chuckle behind you,” No bra?

Embarrassed and breathless from his bold moves and remarks, your skin feels hotter when Jungkook pulls the dress down over your shoulders till you’re bared to the cool air. Now you were naked from your neck to your hips, the poor wedding dress pooled around your waist while his large hands explore your back.

“Jungkook, someone might see us…” you whisper in a warning but still let him trace his touch along your waist until it reaches your breasts.

Taking them in his hands, he thumbs the small pink buds gently, smiling as you groan at the sensation, his thumb brushing across the nipple teasingly.

Reaching your waist again, he rips the dress completely off of you when it falls from your legs to the grass beneath you and the swing you were both sitting.

Gasping from the sudden cold, his wings shield you from the wind, the feathers tickling you gently when he spreads your legs to touch your clit with his fingers.

“Oh God,” you moan in delight, the wet friction creating goosebumps all over your skin. His fingers were gentle and slow at first until he starts stroking faster, adding heat to your already burning flesh.

”Ah...” you cry out when his teeth sink into your shoulder, biting down to leave a mark.

Your hips buck into his hand without your consent and you' sure that he could taste your arousal when his tongue licks your tender flesh.”Jungkook -ah….”

He pauses in between kissing you and nibbling lightly on your neck. You feel like you’re floating with him and you know it was probably the adrenaline that coursed through your system.

“Do you want to please me, mate?”

“Mate?” you question with wide eyes when you glance towards him.

Smiling with a glint in his eyes and his lips still covered with your scent, he replies, “My mate, of course. Don’t you know?”

Staring deeply into his black orbs, you nod slowly,” Like a soulmate,” you breathe out shakily with a blush forming on your cheeks.

Jungkook laughs, his lips curving into a sexy smile when he realizes your excitement.

Before he continues with what he was doing before, he kisses along your shoulder and neck, giving your mark his full attention when you feel it glow in the dark.

“Why does it light up like that when you touch it?” you ask quietly.

His fingers pause when you mentioned your mark for a moment as he looks at you with a strange expression but his tone remained gentle,” The magic that connects the two of us forms a sort of bond that only mates can share when touching a mark or marking each other like this. This mark proves that you’re mine and everyone who will see it, will know it too.”

Your heart beats rapidly when his long finger traces your inner thigh. It takes all of your willpower to stay as still as possible instead of moving closer to him to feel his heated touch.

"If you get hurt," he whispers huskily while nipping on one of your shoulders and then the other. "This mark will show it.”

Your breath hitches when he starts sucking your shoulder with his hot mouth.

"Jungkook…." you whimper as your back arches.

"Shh, my love... don't move. Stay still."

His hands roam your sides, fingers playing with your breasts until you're panting with desire.

“Do you want my cock, Y/n? Do you want to feel it inside you?" His words sent chills down your spine and made your body tingle with need, the butterflies fluttering around you making you giggle nervously.

Breathing out heavily, you tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on the stars above,”I want to do anything and everything, my king.”

Feeling him unzipping his trousers, you gasp sharply when you feel his thick length pressing against your ass.

You can’t even scream when he inserts himself in you with one rough thrust, sinking inside you so deep that you see another kind of stars above you.

That night all you did was chant your husband’s name on repeat.

Two Weeks Later

It was raining in the morning when you woke up in the big bed next to your husband.

He was still asleep, his handsome features relaxed without any trace of stress but you knew that it would change if he knows the truth about you.

It was five days before when you got the news and now keeping it from him like a secret made your stomach twist uneasily, your mind wondering how he’s going to react.

With a sigh, you slowly sat up and rubbed your tired eyes with the palms of your hands. Looking down at your naked body, you smiled sadly when you felt your body ache and wanted nothing more than to take a nice bath right now.

Bringing your hand to your stomach, you rubbed your belly gently and smiled softly but sudden feeling of sickness caused you to jump from the bed to run to the bathroom.

Throwing yourself at the toilet seat, you dropped on your knees and dry heaved for what seemed like hours with your stomach hurting like hell. Your eyes sting with tears as you tried to keep yourself together and when you’re finally done throwing up and you’re left alone in the bathroom, you collapsed onto the floor next to the toilet.

Letting your head fall back against the wall with a sob, you heard footsteps approaching and quickly wiped away the last few streaks of tears on your cheeks, forcing yourself to stand up and meet Jungkook's concerned gaze with red rimmed eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He crouched in front of you, frown deepening as he noticed the tear tracks streaking down your face.

Sniffing as your nose ran and he held out a damp rag which you gratefully accepted, you wiped your face carefully with the cloth. When you were certain that you were presentable enough for him, you glanced back at him through hooded eyes and offered a weak smile.

“I’m okay. Just feeling sick,” you lie with a shaky voice, looking down ashamedly when he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re the worst liar in history, sweetheart,” his eyes darken when he steps closer to you.

Pulling you into his chest, his wings springs out of his back, protecting you while tucking you into his embrace.

“I feel my seed inside of you. You can’t avoid me forever. You know that I can feel our bond and everything what is going on with you,” he whispered huskily, nuzzling the crown of your head affectionately.

You feel like your heart stopped at that moment,” And what is going on?”

“You’re pregnant, darling. You can’t keep that as a secret from me anymore. I would know because we are bonded after all.”

You bite your lip to stop the crying,” You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? You are carrying our child!” he exclaims happily, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

You can hardly contain your joy now that Jungkook knew the truth,” Do you really want this?”

Chuckling in disbelief, he kissed your mouth without any care that you just vomited all your previous night’s dinner so with a sharp intake of breath, you feel his hand wrap around your delicate throat.

“Do I want this? You silly girl, of course, I want you and our child. I didn’t breed you just to reject you,” smirking at his words, your mouth falls open.

What he said sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth.

Did he mean…

No way.

“And knowing that you smell even better with my baby’s scent inside of you, it makes me want you more,” growling low in his throat as his free hand slips behind your head to grip both of yours tightly,”So tell me, sweetheart; why would I not want our baby?”

Tears started rolling down your face when he lifted one of your hands up to place a kiss on your knuckles while staring deeply into your eyes.

“You really mean it,” you whisper with wonderment filling your body as he nods and kisses your knuckles again.

“I really mean it. Now come here,” he murmurs with a soft grin before pulling you on top of him and burying his face into your hair.

“I should take a bath…I stink,” you grumble against his bare skin.

“Not to me.”

God, this man will be the death of you.

Be continued…

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

Taglist: @lepau123 @the-princess-of-mischief-1998@11thenightwemet11 @khadeeeeej @almosttoopizza @jiminismine4ever (If you want to be tagged, please message me)

🅒 All rights reserved

[kinokoshoujoart]

is it really toxic yuri if she doesn’t demand you cut off your fingers for her happiness???

”You have given me gifts over 10,000 times. Congratulations!” haha happy wife happy life…. (my fingers are stumps)

as some of you may or may not have realized i am powerless to the siren call of the ultimate devilish blond Harvest Moon Scum Man, and given that the Japanese version of DS Cute gives you TWO saveslots and TWO hands and the ability to to be in a literal toxic lesbian best friendrriage with ultimate devilish mischievous blonde Harvest Moon Scum Woman i have no choice but to meet all of the Witch Princess’s super reasonable honey do list!!

so one of those fun little non negotiable requests from majo-sama is that you need to give her presents 10,000 times before she’ll even consider marrying you, even if you meet all the marriage requirements!

i don’t mean 10,000 items total— even if you give her a stack of 99 items, it only counts as +1 towards the “items given to witch” counter. you have to give her 10,000 items individually…

in normal gameplay (giving her 1 gift a day, accounting for the holidays when her house is closed) you’ll eventually reach 10,000 gifts!…in your 95th year!

you COULD give her 100 gifts a day every day and knock it out in less than a year, and this was my strategy at first! i quickly realized adding another tedious daily chore to a pile of tedious daily chores slowed the game loop to a crawl and splitting items out was really fucking annoying actually

on the other hand, in 5 IRL hours, you can just get it all done in one visit to her house and never worry about it ever again.

“wow, that sounds like a really great use of my limited time on god’s green earth! how can i too win my future wife’s heart through button mashing my fingers into a pulp?” you ask?

˚✧₊⁎optimized pro gamer technique for breaking your fingers yuri style!!٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶⁎⁺˳✧༚

you will need

dog (each time you show your pet, this adds +1 to the gift counter the same way a gift would)

the bottom screen should be the map screen (reduces loading time between conversations compared to having your rucksack open)

cast endurance on fingers (wait this is redundant, you saw yuri in the title…)

ideal but not required

sometimes when you enter her house, she’s facing the side and her walk cycle never starts. it’s great if you get this glitch because then you can just stand in place for the entire duration without having to look at the screen, and even like watch a movie or whatever while you do all this, instead of accidentally dropping your dog every time she walks to the other bookshelf

if you’re wondering “wait, doesn’t Witch Princess hate dogs and love cats? why are you showing her your dog?” you are absolutely correct! she yells at you to get that stupid beast away from her every time you show your dog to her! her FP goes down by 3 each time! however, since her response to the dog is shorter than her response to the cat, you end up saving like .6 seconds per conversation, saving over 1.5 hours total, so the dog is what she gets

anyway, in true Karen HM64 tradition, after being repeatedly harassed by having a dog she isn’t fond of shoved in her face ten thousand times in a row for like five hours straight, naturally this makes her want to marry you! who said good old fashioned courtly love is dead?!

* as a small note, if you care enough to keep track and give her an actual gift at the 10th, 100th, 1000th, and 10000th mark, you’ll get 4 of the limited Witch Photos early on, which each give you +1 sweet sweet farm degree points every day… honestly that’s not much, but the pain of being told “your hands are full soooo no reward for you lmaoooo sucks to be you” was too much to bear, so i kept track and used a normal present for the 10th, 100th, 1000th, and 10000th…

[miseta]

Chapter 10 ➺ Not a cloud in sight

Hey readers! I think this chapter can almost be read as a one shot as long as you read the summary first! It's a shorter and very fluffy chapter, still minor DNI sorry. Thanks, tough ones, that are keeping up with that really long story! It's still not the end of it!

Starting over in Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique! Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze Chapter 8 ➺ Confusion and directions Chapter 9 ➺ A place for words

TW: smut +18, mention of periods 4,5K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

"Ladies and gentlemen please remain seated and attached during takeoff ."

My fingers squeezed the hand she had let out for me on the armrest.

"I’m glad I’m not seated next to you when we travel with the Real or I’d have a broken hand by now!" the goalkeeper chuckled lightly and winced, my grip crushing her palm as I focused on the cover of a magazine stored in the back of the seat in the front row. "Relax and enjoy your fight to Formentera" the title said provocatively. I was nowhere close to being relaxed, Misa’s poor hand being the proof of my fear of flying right now. 

I had never been an air person, afraid of highs, planes, and even of kites when I was young. My two feet had always felt right on spot when being firmly on the ground or at least less than ten feet above it. That was why I couldn’t even answer the goalie when the plane quitted the earth and took off toward the sky at full speed. 

I closed my eyes and tried hard to concentrate on the warm and large hand under mine. My grip loosen slightly, my palm was sweating and I wiped it on my jeans before taking Misa’s hand back. Her skin felt soft, her fingertips attempted soothing motions and succeed at making me loose my focus on the speed, the high and the feeling of being trapped. Misa’s fingers were always distracting.

The plane stabilized and the now familiar "seatbelt is no longer required" sound rang out and my eyes flung opened. "Respira, Cariño. Estoy aquí para ti", Misa left my hand but only to lift the armrest so she could wrap her arm around my shoulders. Her other hand found my chin and lift it, and I could do nothing but dive in her brown eyes as she led her face closer until her plump lips pressed lightly onto mine. 

I closed my eyelides again to let her kiss take me away from the plane. The feel of her lips ghosting all over my face sent shivers in my body, followed by the first itches of desire. I briefly thought of how easily Misa could work me up and wondered if there would be a day the tiniest contact of her lips wouldn’t make me want her at once. To put a stop to my growing excitement, I preferred to snuggle up to her. Breathing in her sweet perfume helped me finally relax a bit. 

"I know it’s not obvious right now but I’m like, really really happy we go on holidays together, Mis’", I murmured. 

"Oh… I was precisely thinking I should have left you at the airport…"

"I don’t believe you, nasty girl…" 

The young woman wrapping arm pulled me closer and she kissed my forehead, "En verdad, I can’t wait you meet Jenni, Ale and Laia, Cari!"

"You know, I’m a bit anxious to see them since you told me you and Jenni jumpscared Alexia so much once, she almost threw up…" 

"Don’t be scared, you’re perfectly loca para nosotras, you’ll blend in no time!" We both chuckled until a shake of the plane made me tense again and I sunk deeper into the goalie’s cuddles. 

***

The taxi parked in front of a large modern villa with the biggest bay windows I’d ever seen. The house was juste above one of the many beaches of Formentera island, framed by many pine trees and colorful flowery bushes, the hard sun of noon perfecting the chic summer decor. 

We picked up our luggages and went to the front door, Misa rang the doorbell while I twisted my fingers nervously, feeling so intimidated by meeting her closest friends. 

"¡Estan aquí! Ya voy!" I heard from behind the door. I stepped aside, half hiding behind the goalie as the door opened in front of us. 

Jennifer Hermoso was one hell of a woman, no, it was more than that, it felt like a hurricane was about to swept us both when Jenni saw us and jumped on her friend with many hugs and excited words of welcome. 

After what, she turned to me, so tall and muscled she could have been really intimidating if wasn’t for her large and warm smile. "Nicky! Por fin nos conocemos!" As Jenni hugged me eagerly, two other faces appeared in the door way. 

"Jenni, acaba de llegar, déjala respirar", said a blond sturdy woman who could be no one but the charismatic and famous Alexia Putellas. 

The third one, Laia Codina, added "La estás ahogando, Jenni."

But Misa interrupted the chatty women, "Hey… chicas, habla ingles porfi, Nicky entiende algunas frases pero no habla corramente español", and the three of them nodded in agreement before we followed them inside the villa.

"Nicky! So it is you who snatched the heart of our bromista Misa!" Jenni wave to me to come to the kitchen bar as she pulled a bottle of tequila from the cupboard. The other footballers quickly joined at fetching the different cocktail ingredients. 

I pulled a nervous smile "Yeah, it’s me. What does bromista means?" 

"It means prankster!" Laia exclaimed from across the kitchen. "Chicas, do you realize Misa la malota has found a girl ? How do you stand her, Nicky? Everybody here knows she’s disreputable." 

With a little smile on her lips, Misa huffed and rolled her eyes as she aligned five glasses in front of the striker, who was pouring tequila into a big shaker. 

"I’m keeping an eye on her", I said, looking proudly at the goalie leaning on the bar beside me, and I patted the top her head.

The three footballers simultaneously released a tenderized "Ohhhhh". 

"She’s the good one for you, Misa", said Alexia. 

"Yes, she hasn’t even argued with the fact that you’re a mean girl", Jenni pointed out.

"She’s got what you need, I say you should married her now", concluded Laia. 

That made me laugh, the nonsense of the three friends but especially the goalkeeper’s exasperated pout.

"I knew it was going to be like this…", Misa sighed, resigned. 

Jenni handed Misa a few limes, a knife and a juicer, "Exprima las limas, porfa. We wouldn’t let you get away without checking Nicky’s alright, we know you, Hermanita", she said before turning to me, "Nickita, swimming pool or city tour this afternoon?" 

"Pool’s great", I answered, too tired from the flight to really enjoy a long walk in town. 

I couldn’t suppress a yawn. "You want to take a nap? There is no rush", Misa asked me while putting the freshly pressed lime juice into the shaker. 

Laia and Alexia leant onto the bar and whispered to each other, peering at us mischievously. "She’s so soft when she’s talking to her"

"Lover Misa is back on board!"

"Look at her sparkling eyes!"

"¡Basta! Chicas!" Misa grumbled, "It’s getting annoying!" 

Jenni laughed, "You’re such a joke! You’d be doing ten times worst if you were in our position!" 

"You don’t know, I was never in that position", the goalie shrugged. 

Jenni precisely divided the shaken beverage between the glasses, handed each woman a cocktail and a friendly shove at the goalie.

"Sabes que te queremos Misa! Bienvenida a Nicky ! Salud Chicas, holidays has just started!" she said, lifting her glasses, and we joined her in a profusion of joyful exclamations.

***

Holidays weren’t just holidays. 

It took me a moment to realize I didn’t have to drop Misa’s hand or tear my eyes from hers as soon as I’d heard footsteps approaching. I didn’t have to abruptly stop a kiss like we often did when we’d snatch an intimate moment in the looker room. 

During the first days, I couldn’t be close to the goalie, the kind of closeness that means more than standing next to her, in front of her friends, jumping or twitching uncomfortably with the feeling of being observed. 

Misa, on her side, didn’t seem to have internalize our hiding habits. She often came to hug me or put a swift kiss on my lips every time she had the occasion, causing her infernal friends to gossip more each time. It was true Jenni, Alexia and Laia quickly made me feel confortable, mocking and teasing everyone like I had always been part of their groupe and even Jenni’s amused and tender look began to feel like a caring presence. 

A few days passed and I barely hided when my eyes devoured the goalie dripping body climbing out of the pool. I only tempered myself by modesty and to avoid being the target of new mockeries. The next day, the way I giggled when Misa pulled me on her lap while sun tanning even made me feel light, her mouth grazing my bare skin only a cute demonstration of affection. 

So slowly I got it, being here meant being free. 

I could feel being both her friend and lover when she would absentmindedly put her hand on my thigh, grab my waist when I’d passed by or whispered something silly in my ear as we chatted all together by the pool. We could hold hands when our little groupe wandered around the streets of Es Pujols. We could dance pressed together in a tender making out at the club, surrounded by people who didn’t give a damn about Real Madrid and who was kissing its goalkeeper. 

But the best part of it was to be with her, all day, all night, days after days. There were no goodbyes, no being appart, even for a day or so, no moments in between. Just moments with my girlfriend, living with my girlfriend and enjoying every little bit of it, from her burned morning toasts to her loud snores having me to put earplugs every nights. It was like an endless day off in Madrid where not only a city but a whole island stood ready for us to explore as a couple, surrounded by friends, with no other things in mind than planing our next cruise or booking a local speciality restaurant we wanted to try.

Being Misa’s girlfriend was easy and flowing like the waveless sea of Formentera. 

***

“ … and they found the guilty vein and burned it”, Misa finished, smiling mildly at my astonished expression.  

I reset my position on the stone bench, crossing my legs, the screeching of cicadas filling our last night on the island. “And it healed your tachycardia?” 

“Yes, I was healed and able to play football again!” she concluded with small laugh like going through conscient heart surgery at the age of thirteen was nothing more than buying bread. 

I was gagging, impressed by her courage at a young age and by the strength and determination it gave her since. "Woaw, I’m speechless. You already loved football back then".

"Football is my passion for life, I can’t live without it. Like… you couldn’t live without chocolate chips cookies".

I slapped her shoulder, "Tsss, silly girl! You’re just bummed because you can’t eat my biscuits!"

"No, I swear you have a problem with sweet food, Nicky! Your cupboards are always full of it! Like, your kitchen is stuffed with several boxes of the same biscuit, it looks like a shop!" Misa laughed, looking at me tenderly. 

"You never know what could happen, I don’t want to go hungry in the middle of the night and have nothing to eat…"

"It has never happened since we started dating. I’m telling you, you’re addicted to sugar! I should call you Azúcariño from now."

And Misa took me in her arms, love in her eyes so visible I blushed and was happy for the darkness of that part of the garden. "You would not!" I chuckled, moving a strayed strand of hair from her face. 

"I surely would, Azúcari."

The brunette was already laying small kisses all over my face, making me laugh more, something in me purring deliciously at the feel of being loved so much. 

"You’re so sweet, Mis’", I said wrapping my arms around her broad comforting shoulders. "You’re right, I’m addicted. You’re my dark chocolate chunky cookie, all strong and sweet". 

Misa and I simply looked fondly at each other a moment, the moonlight reflecting in our shiny eyes while my fingertips traced random shapes on her nap. Then, I softy pressed my lips on hers and we lost ourselves in a long kiss as music started to resound from afar. 

“Everything is ready!”

I startled at the sound of Jenni’s voice close by, followed by the rustling noise of leaves and the tall and lean silhouette of the striker appeared behind us. 

"Hola tortolitos! Stop your crap and join the party!"

"Party!" Misa jumped on her feet at once "Vamos Nicky, yeahhhh!", she screamed, running toward the house. 

Jenni and I both rolled our eyes. "Misa…", we giggled in synch. 

When we arrived near the pool, Misa was already dancing like a beast with Laia, both of them covering the song with their voice. Jenni was quick to join them while I preferred to go sit in a lounge chair beside Alexia, watching her three teammates with a motherly look. 

"They’re always wild", she laughed. 

"Yeah, they’re having so much fun", I agreed, my eyes not leaving the bouncing shape of Misa dancing and jumping excitedly while looking in turn at Jenni and Laia. 

"And you Nicky, are you having good holidays ?"

I sighed of ease, "Perfect". 

The footballer chucked lightly "Good, I’m happy for you two. I hope you’ll find a way about the work problem", Alexia added a bit awkwardly. 

My heart tightened. Of course Misa has told them about the clause. I was searching my mind about what to say when two large hands pulled me to my feet and dragged me to the dance floor.  

"You have to dance on this one, it’s Formentera de Aitana! So right on point!", Misa told me, hopping in place while pushing me in the middle of the dancing girls. Soon their spirit took me too and we all sang in a chaos of false notes. 

We danced for hours, song after song. Time didn’t seem to exist as the party stretched in the night, cocktails and beer refilled as soon as swallowed. 

"No! No! Misaaaa! Noooooo!", I screamed in vain as the goalkeeper heaved me in her arms and ran toward the swimming pool with little care for my protests. A second later, our bodies broke the water surface with a huge splash.

I regain my breath, spitting "Fuck you Mis’! I wanted to wear those shoes tomorrow! And you took yours off before jumping! » I yelled, mad at the sight of the abandoned white snickers beside the pool.

The goalie just laughed and pulled me close to her, the melodious notes of the music accompanied our bodies pressing against each other in the water.

"Te quiero a ti… let’s go upstairs, we’ll say we’re tired". The brunette softy said, knowing exactly how to make herself forgiven, and I shivered with the realisation of how badly I wanted her right now.

***

I pushed Misa against the bedroom mirror, her hair still wet from the pool sent droplets on the glass. Our room was in fair distance from the party, we had closed all the doors we could and the air was warm and loaded with humidity inside the villa. 

My fingers slipped under her drenched T shirt and rose along her spine to reach the hook of her bra. I pulled both of them off, took a step back to take in the half naked figure of the goalkeeper. A smug smile spread on Misa’s face as my look got heavier with desire. 

Her hands grasped her own short, she slowly pushed it down her ankle and stepped out of them. She dared stay there a moment, in front of the mirror, the reflection presenting to me her bare body from every angles. 

I reached out to her, pressing against her. “You’re fucking gorgeous...” I yelped on her lips and she led me onto the bed, laying on her back before swiftly pulling me over her. I chuckled at her eagerness, taking my top off as I straddled her.

“I was dying to do that for hours! You were so pretty on that bench...” she panted, working at undressing me as well. But she froze as she pulled my pantie down. “Uh, um, mierda... Nicky, you’re having your period..."

“What?! No!“ I moaned bitterly, jumping off her and heading to the bathroom. “Fucking shit! No!”.

Misa groaned from the bedroom “Madre mia! Not on our last night together!”

“I think I'm more frustrated that you!” I said, changing pantie and coming back to the bed. I sent her a pleading look before bending down toward her lips. I kissed them softly, felt my core already screaming for her touch and my stomach swirling lightly. “But I think I’m ok to take care of you all night long, then” I confessed, chuckling at my girlfriend fidgeting under me. 

The goalie let out a small whimper and closed her eyes as her fingers sunk in my hair. Still kissing her with passion, I slowly spread my legs, opening hers wide in the same movement. Misa released another whine and squirmed. I was aiming to work her up and we stayed like this a moment, depending our kiss and caressing.

The quickening rhythm of her breathing encouraged me to hold on. I sent a finger tracing the shape of her abs and felt her hips bucking over nothing. My palms brushed the insides of her tights, going, but very slowly, toward her intimacy. Her hips wiggled again, accompanied by a low moan. “Nicky... you want me to be as frustrated as you?” 

“Shh, just wet a little more for me” I teased, not really minding if she had get the play on the word as the young woman pulled my lips against her neck and sighed. I took my time to lick the soft skin there and ended by nipping her earlobe, sending a shiver along the goalkeeper’s wriggling body.

Lowering my hips, I spread her legs more and started to press against her powerful tights. The moves sent her body upward in little trusts, her intimacy still spread out and completely left alone. Misa’s brows were furrowed, lost in her longing as her arms ensnared my neck.

“Por qué me torturas así?” the brunette shuddered against my lips.  

It was my time to moan, the thought of arousing Misa beyond reason blowing my mind and setting my lower belly afire. I continued to grind on her more roughly as I pined both her hands onto the pillow. Her chest rose up as she arched, whining more, and presented itself irresistibly to me. 

I descended my mouth to graze at the flower tattooed between her breast. My lips found her nipple and sucked it gently. Her legs wrapped themselves around my hips as I eagerly licked her chest, turning both of us into a whining mess. The brunette legs were pressing on mine, desperate for a contact between them but I hold them wide apart and she finished by closing her eyes, her plump lips parting to let out frustrated whimpers.

My mouth ended her complaint, pushing my tongue between her teeth and my fingers between her legs. Her jaw dropped as she released a long sigh of relief. Misa was drenched, having me panting with delight and I waisted no time before gathering her wetness on my fingers tips to coat her lips and slide easily on her core. Her pelvis moved along with my fingers. She had buried her face in the side of my neck, her mouth on my ear allowed me to perceive every sounds of her jerky breathing, making my hairs bristle and my brain dizzy with want.

When I stared to move in circles on her clit, the woman moans turned into tormented cries. She squirmed again, her pelvis pressing more against my hand and sliding my fingers downer. 

Getting where Misa wanted me most, I tried to settle better over her body when I heard her whiny voice in my ear. “The strap we brought, in the drawer facing the bed… I want you… llévame”

I moaned, her demand spreading goosebump over my all body, and rose up at once to retrieve the precious item. I opened the drawer, searching at the back of it, my hand falling on a suggestive shape wrapped in a silky black fabric and I swiftly pulled out a purple toy and a harness. 

Misa stretched lasciviously as she watched me put on the harness, securing the toy in it and coming back onto the bed over her. Her hooded eyes kept looking up at me expectantly, yet her moves directed my body over her, guiding my hips until the end of the strap rubbed against her core. The sexual tension between us was so strong it was palpable as we continued to stare in each other eyes, our breath rasping and our hips moving in anticipation. 

I led the strap downer to line it up with her entrance. “listo?” I preferred to ask, making sure she was still willing to take it. 

Misa nodded and enfold me with her arms as I began to push very slowly. The goalie winced at the stretch, her grasp tightening around my shoulders. “Are you alright?” I checked. 

“Sí” she sighted, “Bésame, Nicky.” 

I obeyed immidialaty, kissing the corner of her mouth while pushing further inside. Misa’s mouth fell open. A particularly loud cry filled the bedroom, her back arching when my hips met her pelvis. I waited for her to get used to the feel, our face pressed together in a tender making out, and pulled out softy. Her hands racked randomly on my back, holding me closer as I plunged the strap again and I started to make love to her. 

I slightly quickened the pace, Misa whined louder, her hips accompanying the new rhythm. As she arched more, her head fell back onto the pillow, her arms going up and her fingers digging into it. My nose grazed the crook of her exposed neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

I was beyond the point of excitement, feeling something hot and swollen growing inside me as my love for Misa seemed to overflowed all around us, bonding us more than the strap between our legs. I felt the toy going in less easily, guessed she was tightening around it and I slowed down. The rhythm less demanding, my glance rested on her face, her blissed out features were more than I could take in. 

A high pitch moan escaped my lips. Misa opened her eyes, two dark pools reflecting my own craving. I couldn’t suppress a strangle yelp as something burst inside of me. My hips pressed against her pelvis as my body shivered under the uncommonly soft and fluttering orgasm that took over me. It felt different, less intense than coming at touching but it lasted as I stayed unmoving, buried inside of her. 

I paused a moment, my lips brushing her cheeks, breathing out my pleasure and emotions, before resuming my trusts inside and out. As soon as I moved again, her whines resounded in the bedroom, higher pitched, almost pleading now. Combined with the way her fingers sunk in my flesh, I could tell she was close and I started to pound harder and faster.

This time Misa fell silent. I felt the small blows of her breath on my face, erupting from her mouth each time I pushed my strap back inside. Her pretty features were frown hard, dying for a release, her all body clinging to the toy, her tights starting to tremble as I filled her again and again.

“Dios mio! ” She cried. I was panting now as I felt her clenching again. My forearms supporting my own weight were becoming shaky but I hold on, trying to keep a steady pace. I grasp her muscled shoulders, burring my face in her neck, knowing she could hear how insanely turned on I was by making love to her like that. 

A long cry escaped her soft lips, her brows furrowing more before relaxing completely when a last thrust pushed her over the edge. She yelled again and again, louder every time, her body wiggling with enjoyment under mine as her embrace tightened madly on me, locking me there when I wouldn't have moved an inch away from her. 

Her whimpering lasted, quieter now, and she loosened her grip. I pulled out of her and took the harness off. I dropped myself at her side, crawling back to her face. My heart was drumming in my chest with efforts and emotions as I kissed her cheek, my palms stroking her shivering body with all the tenderness I could. “I love you so much.” I sighed, feeling my eyes burning at the sight of her, crumbling with pleasure. 

Misa rolled toward me, her breathing was still shaky and her eyes shut tight as she nested her face against my chest. “Humm, love you Nicky” she whispered, her lips slightly trembling. “You make me feel so good, and safe.” 

I pressed her body closer, not baring the tiniest space between us, my heart bursting under my overwhelming feelings. Misa’s words felt like a gift nobody had ever give me… A few tears fell from my eyes before I knew what was happening, dripping on the goalie resting in my arms. 

She looked up at once, tender a first, then lost when she saw I was crying.

“It’s alright” I smiled, my voice heavy with my emotions, “I’ve never felt that way with anybody… you’re so special Misa, and you make me feel special too.”

Misa’s fingers delicately wiped the tears off my face, her lips pressing on my temple. “You’re going deeper than the strap…” the goalie’s chuckled, her own eyes shiny. 

I didn’t know for how long we stayed like this but we had fallen asleep for a long time when our bodies finally parted. When the light woke me up in the middle of the night, I realized we hadn’t pulled the curtain, the full moon high and bright in the cloudless sky. Tomorrow, each of us would return to their families for the rest of holidays. Misa and I would not see each other for three weeks.

I went back to bed after having closed the curtains, pressing my face between her shoulder blades and I started drifting back to sleep, her snores welcomed tonight, knowing that I was going to missed even that in a few days.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[rosedere]

Murder Mountain

(Yandere Azul ashengrotto x Afab reader x Jade leech)

Modern Au

TW: Dark Content, Attempted Murder, Harassment, Non Con/Rape.

Cross Posted on AO3.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 (you are here) END

Want more?- - -> Our spring secret (sequel)

I thought I had a happy life

And the city lights

Didn't bother me

Before I met you

You're always on the go

Don't you love me anymore

Please stay

-

When you arrived to work that next day the usual busy, chattering, environment was missing. No one would look at each other in the elevators nor in the breakroom, some just dilligently typing on their computers or carrying on with their job.

All of a sudden Floyd burst in the cubicle row you were working in informing you to all meet downstairs for a emergency meeting.

Everyone at work was informed via Floyd and Jade in the office courtyard about Azul’s Absence.

Finally someone asked if Azul was still alive.

It was definitely their attempt at damage control, dispelling the rumors the media had spread about Azul being hunted by a bear on the trail or that he had been attacked because of his status as CEO being the few you had seen on TV.

Your ears perked up as you looked at Jade who hesitated before explaining he was in a comatose state and at present, was unsure when he'd awaken, but he was mostly out of any life-threatening harm.

After the slew of questions about the future of the company Jade declared Floyd and him would be temporary acting in Azul’s absence along with rescheduling the retreat indefinitely until Azul came back.

Floyd would be the temporary assistant of finance and assistant director of the company; Jade, however, was to become the acting CEO of Mostro Inc.

You were relieved. Learning you would never see Azul again as long as you got your transfer started before Azul woke up from his coma, you could finally leave. You knew Jade would certainly help transfer knowing he most likely already had certain people he wanted lined up to take up positions in the company. Plus, your lover had already offered you an open position as finance director of Sugar Horned Devil.

Why wouldn't you accept freedom? You would be a higher position than you had in your whole career in Monstro inc.

After the meeting was dismissed, you eagerly went home to submit your notice for transfer as soon as possible, quickly typing the form you got the bright confirmation page. In 3-2 business days, it would take for you to be freed from this corporate hell.

Just a little longer..

As the days went on peacefully, you felt yourself being able to be happy, even engaging more often with your co-workers in the break room and chatting with your desk neighbors at your computers.

You guessed it was because, without Azul's overwhelming influence in the office, people were able to relax.

Especially with Floyd being in charge of the floor, everyone enjoyed his impulsive mood swings and chill demeanor. It felt like you fit in for once, having people ask for your opinions on how to do certain tasks or just to talk as friends.

You were becoming yourself again.

-

It's been 10 days.

You took the week off from work after an on-and-off stomach bug you got one morning a while back, your stomach becoming bloated and a bit, irregular feeling.

Assuming it was bad food the first few times you tried to power through work only for you to have only taken three steps into the lobby before you ran to the restroom to vomit for half of the morning in the lobby restroom.

Nothing was really helping with your stomach so you went to the doctor to get blood work and figure out what was causing your flu-like symptoms after numerous failed flu tests and anti nausea medicine you recieved.

The fear of this being the way you found out you had something dire like Cancer or a Gastrointestinal disease was all you could think as you checked your phone every other hour for any news about it.

Currently, you were lying in bed with the worst cramps and nausea youd had from all the days you had been sick; it was so bad you couldn't even brush your teeth without feeling like you were going to throw up.

Rolling to your side, hoping it would relieve you of vomiting, you heard the familiar ring of your phone, immediately making you perk up out of your stupor.

Your lover had texted you: They had asked you why you declined the position.

“What happened (Name)?”

Frowning, assuming you read it wrong and fighting the urge to spit the rising stomach acid and the overwhelming sense of wanting to vomit that had begun right away during the usual evening hours.

In confusion, you checked if your request was approved.

Previously, when you checked at the beginning of the day it showed pending…

“Declined by manual review??” You whispered to yourself reading the automated letter.

Maybe it was a mistake… you could have gotten lazy and left something crucial out of your application.

Dragging yourself to your computer, ignoring the onslaught of your usual symptoms of overwhelming fatigue. You sent the best short professional email to your higher-ups about your request to transfer.

Sending the email with the small chirp you were about to roll back to your blanket cocoon you were forming ontop your mattress.

Chirp!

Not even 15 minutes later, you received an email saying they had no control over it and instead told you to talk to Jade.

The acting CEO.

-

Jade

Knowing Jade had everything Azul didn't was an indescribable joy. Sure, he was the former Director of Finance in the company, but that didnt come with the ultimate rewards he wanted…

Azul’s company, his friends, his status…

And the biggest treasure…

(Name)

He had to admit the former things were not as important as the latter, but nonetheless, he was waiting for you to look for him.

Just like old times…

Despite the rift in Azul and Jade's current relationship recently, Jade still dearly cared for Azul, just as he did back when he was in high school.

—

It was one Spring luncheon; it was unusual for Azul to invite Jade and pay for his lunch.

He should have known something bad was going to happen as he ordered his lunch that day…

“You might know her, Jade, She's a part of the company." Azul dreamily sighed as he began swirling the fruit infused sweet tea he had ordered with his straw.

Raising a brow Jade only smiled, Azul confiding in him was rare these days.

“Oh? Is she an employee? Or is she a client?” Jade mischievously added, sipping his lemonade.

Watching Azul’s lips twitch into a confident grin he uttered the worst response to the question he could think of.

It being two years ago, but he could still remember his response clear as a bell.

“Oh no, she's actually working in our finance department,” Azul’s face began to blush.

“She transferred from the lower floors a while ago, but she's the one; I just can't get a chance to talk to her,” Azul muttered raising his glass of tea taking a sip.

“I wonder who she might be.” Jade trailed off.

Jade felt the dread in his stomach.

Everyone knew that Jade had fallen for (Name), The office couple, ever since the moment she joined their company.

A small, quiet type, basically lost in the sea of many young professionals at the company, diligently working hard and taking only a few days off.

Jade met (Name) because he had to train them since Azul thought he was too good to talk to (Name) at the time.

Reminiscing to that moment when he helped you take your things to the 86th floor of the Finance department It would be the beginning of a friendship.

But that's all it was; mostly for a little while, Jade didn't know how to progress the relationship since he got promoted to work closer to Azul. Having to follow his tailcoats as he conducted buisness he only would see you maybe once or twice a month.

He couldnt figure out why he wanted to seize any opportunity that would arise to be with you, the one most would look over in favor of anyone else.

“If I tell you Jade you must not tell anyone” Azul looked around under the private dining veranda they were seated at.

“I'd rather not have PR about this— it could ruin the company if everyone knew I was going to pursue a date with someone” Azul’s voice dripping with a haughty tone, setting his glass down before flicking his gaze towards Jade, staring at him with excitement in his hues.

“Her name is (Name)” Azul’s grin never slipping off his face.

Jade only scowled in response, clearing his throat to mask his true emotions.

“Not to come off as rude, but why her?” Jade interjected.

“I mean let’s be honest here, the city’s most eligible bachelor wants to date a regular office worker? Not a super model or a celebrity...”

“She’s a super model to me Jade” Azul sighed, “besides I’d rather have someone Independent and a hard worker like them” he drank some more of his tea for a moment.

“I think she's dating someone anyway, and she’s like a little mouse— it’s hard to even get a hello out of her…” Jade quickly responded, “plus she’s a bit boring once you get to know her” Jade chuckled to himself.

Lies.

She's very much single and has so much personality to her.

“Ah well, I love that in a woman—She does not stir drama, diligently works, and asks question's when she needs help”

“I can just see her by my side,” Azul rambled on.

Jade was in his office, unboxing all of the items from his previous office. The large vast space that was once a reflection of Azul was looming over him as he began to silently place the ugly decor he had decorated his desk with into the same box he used to bring his items upstairs.

Diligently humming he unpacked his replica mushroom statue placing it besides his laptop. Reaching once more into the box however he reached something he had thought was his stapler.

But when he pulled it out of his desk items was when he saw what it truly was.

Smiling down at the crudely made picture frame, the hot glue beads and small candy canes decorating the boarder of the frame. Jade could already picture how adorable you looked assembling the gift you gave him last Christmas; the wobbly Polarbear with a scarf holding a mushroom in the bottom corner on your side of the picture.

Dressed in a long Santa clause themed dress, you had your hand placed on Jade’s much taller shoulder, A nice memory he had on his desk for the longest while he would fondly look at everytime he’s come to work.

And now he could finally place it overlooking his new desk.

With silent admiration he placed it at the center of his desk, hopefully camouflaged enough anyone that walks in wouldnt comment on it.

Especially his brother…

With a sigh he turned to look towards the bright tall windows in front of him.

He hoped today would be the day you would return from your sick leave.

-

Name

After another week off from work, you reached a breaking point.

You felt terribly tired, not as sick as you normally were in the morning, despite being warned to stay at home until your results came in you decided to return to the office.

In your casual clothes since your abdomen was uncomfortable in anything that wasnt stretchy or loose, you approached the door you had been eager to see the whole time of your absence.

Raising your fist to the hard oak doors, you made a small curteous knock against the door.

As you waited for a response, you casually glanced at the title placard on the door.

“Jade Leech, Acting CEO”

I guess he didn't waste any time taking over Azul's office.

Not that it was any of your business anyway.

“Come in,” you heard faintly on the otherside of the door.

Opening the door, you were shellshocked with the new scenery in Azul’s office.

The various glass knickknacks, photos from Azul's high school days, and his coin collection were gone from the tall walls of the office, now replaced with various terrariums filled with mushrooms, different pictures of Jade on top of mountains, and just pictures of mountains were also around the vast walls of Azul's walls.

“Did you redecorate in here, Jade?” You were looking in awe at the change of office space approaching where his desk was, the temptation to sit on it like you use to when Jade had his office downstairs.

“It looks wonderful; it reminds me of your old cubicle,” you laughed to yourself.

You glanced over to see Jade half turned towards the tall windows beside the desk in front of you.

"Well, it might be a while before Azul comes back to work, or even at all,” Jade wryly smiled with his signature hand over his heart gesture as he took his seat in Azul's huge dark leather swivel chair.

It felt unusual to see the normally passive man in a position of power Normally demure and quiet, but when he spoke up, he was actually an intelligent and sometimes silly man. Although, once he became Azul's assistant, you rarely if ever saw him, and when you did, he never talked to you, making you a bit sad at how he made it obvious he had chose Azul over your friendship.

“How so? I heard he might be able to go back to work in a few months," you watched Jade for a reaction.

Jade tight lipped as always eyed you from where you stood.

With a sigh you decided to listen to your intrusive thought to sit on his desk, covering your legs with your dress.

Jade smiled up at you, his sharp, needle-point teeth glinting dangerously at you.

“so why did you request to meet me today, (Name)?”

His hand creeped towards the front of the desk near his laptop, sitting close to where you were currently sitting.

“If I recall correctly, you aren't supposed to be out of bed and yet here you are," Jade spoke, eyeing you with his mismatched gaze.

His fingers tapping at the wood on the desk, anxiously.

Blinking, you remembered why you were here.

"Oh, yeah—sorry," you cleared your throat crossing your legs across the table.

“I submitted a request to transfer a while ago, but it got denied... I'm just curious if this is a mistake or not, '' you informed.

Jade narrowed his eyes, the screech of the chair moving back as the tall man began to stand up from his desk, walking over to, what you thought, him standing in front of your spot perched in front of his desk.

Only, he sat besides you on his desk. His expensive cologne extremely strong in your nostrils as he leaned into your person bubble.

Moving back a little bit only encouraged him to inch closer as he began to rest his hand on your shoulder.

"Well, you see, dear (Name) I can't let that happen." Jade whispered giving your shoulder a light squeeze, his one mismatched eye on you.

Like you were possesed you pushed his hand off of your shoulder, annoyance written all over your face as you felt your chest flutter once more.

"What? Why not?” you almost growled.

Jade only gave a chuckle, suddenly he grabbed you with a strong force watching you struggle as he held onto your bare shoulders with his mismatched eyes, Staring dead into your colored hues.

“Because I finally won, why would I give away the prize I earned, fair and square?” Jade sighed to himself.

He decided to take the opportunity to grab the loose strands of hair that was stubbornly not falling into place with the rest of the hair that was framing your scared face.

You felt yourself flinch away from him, but his grip was almost stronger than Azul’s grip he had on you.

“I dont get it, Jade?” you stuttered trying to hop off of his desk, only for his long leg to pin you into place ontop of the oak desk.

“You see, Azul has been acting as a roadblock for me as well name” Jade lowered his voice a few octaves, “He was catching onto my feelings for the one he also sought after," he clicked his tongue. “So I had to distract him with a rumor about this rival that was talking to the woman he was attracted to,” Jade said, looking deeply at your face.

He then shrugged, “I however didnt anticipate this woman was actually speaking to the Rival I lied about”

Realizing the weight of his words, you got up from your spot and backed away from him towards the skyline window.

“It was you? But why? Azul almost killed me for that incident” you were feeling tears blurring your lash line as you gasped your words out.

So many different emotions; you wanted to scream.

As suddenly as you backed away, Jade came to your side, swiftly holding your face into his chest, his head leaning over yours as he kept you stuck there.

Normally, you wouldn't have minded for Jade to give you a hug, but this wasnt a normal hug, his hands beginning to dip behind your back towards your dress.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you were my friend Jade” You shoved him in a rage you hadnt realized was festering inside you, pushing into his chest with the heel of your Palm as hard as you could.

As you pushed him, Jade grabbed your wrists with a bone-crushing grip, stopping you altogether, your face turning red from the exhaustion and anger.

"Please, (Name) don't make a scene—if anyone you should hate is Azul”

“Regardless of whether I told him or not, he was going to know when he’d see you two kissing each other at the company retreat,” Jade calmy explained.

“You dont know what I had to deal with that asshole” you angrily spat shoving him once more to make a point.

“Just stop talking to me; I don't want to hear this anymore”

Fixing your dress you began to walk around his desk past the gaudy decorations before stopping in front of the door.

“And If you don't approve my transfer request— I'll just leave this company with no pay. I don't care anymore." You screeched back at him.

Unfortunately, Jade followed close behind his hands reaching for your own, his mouth about to open and tell you something before you swatted at him, freeing your hands and dusting your dress almost about to open the door.

Jade didnt follow you, only staring calmly at your disgruntled figure.

Eventually, he closed his eyes, exhaling as he did so, placing his hand over his heart.

“(Name) I wouldn't try that if I were you,” he sternly warned with a cold smile.

You turned to look back at his eerie gaze.

“Why are you going to fire me or something? You and Azul already have tortured me enough,” you scrunched your eyebrows at him before scoffing.

Jade hesitated before he laughed.

You only stood watching him laugh and point at you.

"Well, (Name)”

He once again stood close to you grazing the back of your dress with his hands.

“I never told you to go get Azul Friday morning,” he gingerly whispered with a smile.

Eyes widen at the mention you felt your blood go cold.

“Now why would you quietly go behind me and Floyd's back and reach out to meet the man that’s been actively lusting after you?” Jade annunciated with his open needle like teeth.

“It seems like you wanted to meet him alone at the retreat and when he rejected you that morning you snapped and tried to kill him”

“What are you insinuating?” You shouted with venom over your shoulder.

“Just letting you know, I will find out the truth. And you better hope I don't figure it out soon,” Jade leaned his head down on your shoulder, letting his breath graze your neck.

A kiss was all he had time to plant on your bare neck before you shoved him off without another word: You paused for a brief moment turning to look at the still smiling tall man before abruptly leaving Jade's office.

Harshly you pressed the button to call the elevator impatiently waiting to be let down to the parking lot.

After getting out of the towering office you had grown familiar with, reaching the familiar employee car park, you briskly walked to the familiar baby blue color of your sedan.

Clicking open the door, you harshly threw the door open before slamming it hard against the frame.

Throwing your purse and things a into the passenger seat you threw your head ontop of your steering wheel.

The urge to cry overwhelming as you felt your composure fall.

A shaky exhale before you felt the tears began to fall down your cheeks in rivets.

but right before your pity party began it ended.

The little constant melody coming from your phone that was now thrown under the passenger seat.

Angrily, you shifted over to look under the seat, finally grabbing your phone. Normally when you were in a pitiful mood you’d just decline and forget about it, but the caller was someone you’d been waiting desperately for.

"Oh, thank God, it's the clinic; hopefully it's good news,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing a tissue from your middle console you wiped your face before clicking the green icon.

“Hello, this is (Name)”

“So… What's wrong with me? Is it bad or...”

“Oh yes, (name) we just got your blood results back since as we know we tested you for everything after your flu test came back negative..”

You kind of dreaded the answer, especially with the hesitation from the nurse who was calling you.

Well (name) at least you have a perfect mountain to end it all on if the worst news comes out of this sweet nurse’s mouth…

“Well, first off, congratulations (name)…”

“Congratulations for…” You winced.

“Congratulations on the little troublesome bloom causing all that ruckus in your body” the nurse chuckled.

Cancer…

“Your four weeks along, according to the bloodwork it's causing you to have a storm of hormones right now”

What.

“Since we found out the true reason for your vomiting and nausea, we'd like to see you come in around the 15th of January so you can have your specialist visit and get you prescribed some medicine so you can go to work soon”

"Alright”

“Works for me”

The tears were falling like a waterfall now.

“Thank you have a nice day (Name)”

The line cut off. You dropped your phone under the pedal this time barely registering it.

What.

But..

4 weeks pregnant.

You laughed— a loud maniac Laugh from you belly until it started to melt into a heartbroken wail eventually dying down in a messy sob.

Any people walking by would have probably thought you were insane. Your disheveled dress and running mascara as you wailed into the leather steering wheel.

You thought you'd puke.

What horrible irony was this?

The only person you've ever had sex with…

Was the man laying in a coma in the hospital right now, unknown to the true consequences of that morning four weeks ago.

He might not even make it, and this baby would be the cruel reminder that…

That.

Azul had gotten you pregnant with his child.

You felt like you wanted to die.

What were you going to say? How do you tell anyone about this?

Your lover would leave you.

And…

Worse, what would Azul think?

Would he even want to keep the baby? Or hell even you?

Would you have to marry Azul? He wouldn't want you at all as a wife.

You felt a headache coming on as you started to feel your tears building up again. As you were spiraling from your driver's seat, you heard your phone's delightful ping noise alerting you of its location below.

Azul woke up yesterday.

Your face flushed as hot as ever.

You knew what you had to do.

Or at least what you should do.

But why say anything? You calmly thought to yourself.

It's only been 4 weeks, and you're not even showing… apparently Most of the time, people don't tell anyone until about 5 months, so... at most there was 4 months to go to do the deed.

So Why don't you keep this as your little spring secret?

[ancientstone]

As we enter the Retail Hell time of year, I thought I would put together a list of ways you can help retail workers and make their lives a little easier.

1. Not interested? Leave it be!

People are great at telling kids this (looking no touching!), but adults do not lead by example. This isn't to say you can't pick things up unless you're 100% certain you're going to buy it, but I don't think people realise how much they browse with their hands. I very often watch customers walk around absently picking at things with no real interest.

Trying not to do this means workers aren't constantly having to straighten out displays, as messy displays indicate a messy shop, which puts buyers off, meaning it's drilled into us to keep the place clean. It also means at the end of the day there is less to do so we can go home quicker.

2. Don't grab the one in the middle

If there is something hanging up or on the shelf, and you're curious what the item looks like, take the one off the end. It is so much easier to put back neatly. Taking something from the middle usually means (especially with clothes) that it doesn't go back in properly without a lot of faffing, which most people can't be bothered to do and leave for workers to sort out.

3. Put it back where it came from (or ask!)

You would be horrified at how people leave changing rooms. I've seen clothes screwed up on the floor, flung over random rails, and have even found a bikini sanitary sticker stuck to the mirror.

If you can remember where something goes and you are able to do so, please put it back. Even if it's not entirely correct, I promise it's a thousand times easier for me to mildly adjust something than it is to walk out the changing room with a giant armful of clothes or stomp across the store because it got abandoned in a random spot.

If you don't remember where it came from, please ask! We can direct you! More often, you'll probably find retail workers offer to take it back for you - please take this offer! It means we can put it straight back exactly as it needs to be, and saves us a tidying job later. If you need help to put something back (e.g. you're in a wheelchair and can't reach), again ask and we will be happy to help!

4. Be Patient

It's a busy time of year and that can often mean workers are stretched thin. Please queue patiently at the tills. Please understand we can only go so fast. Please don't interrupt if we are clearly helping someone else. Ultimately, please remember that we are human too and have worked long hours multiple days in a row.

5. Check closing times

A lot of people feel that they can come in and start browsing five minutes from closing time. How this is handled will vary from store to store, but coming in at this time often means people messing up what we just tidied and stops us from going home.

Also, a lot of shops will do their cashing up in the last hour, especially near the end. Once the cashing up is done, cash payments are not likely to be accepted. If you are going to do last minute shopping before closing time, bring your cards with you.

6. Be Black Friday/Saturday savvy

I'm not in the US and I can't say this is true for every store, but for some Black Friday is treated as the midwinter sale. Again, I can't speak for everyone, but where I work we will be in Black Friday prices at least a week beforehand, if not longer.

Repricing takes time, often multiple days depending on how much stock there is to get through, and unless a brand forks out for their staff to do discounting the night before after closing time, there's a good chance that prices will be down earlier than that. The Thursday is probably a good bet.

Also, on these days it gets very busy very quickly. If you're adamant to do Black Friday shopping in person, be prepared to get there early. Of the two days, Friday will be the quietest as there will still be people working, but the Saturday will be manic.

7. Give your kids headphones

If you plan to either give or use a device to occupy your child at some point during your shopping trip, even if it's just offering them your own phone, for the love of god buy some kiddie wireless headphones.

This is included for the white noise as well. Because holy hell, people do not understand volume control. I have been one side of the store and able to hear every word of Peppa Pig coming from the other side. It disturbs the entire shop, and is especially frustrating when these customers spend a long time in the store, because we, the retail workers who cannot escape, have to listen to nursery rhymes and stormy rain noises and whatever else for however long it takes for things to be browsed, tried on, discussed, and bought.

We hate it when people play tiktoks in public. Also hate cocomelon in public.

8. Understand why your children are bored and misbehaving

Parents do not realise how awful shopping is for kids.

You are going to different stores, but cannot pick which ones you go into. Your parents are touching things, but you cannot touch them. Your parents are buying things, but you can't have anything. Stay still in this spot with nothing to do. Don't move away. Follow me exactly. Be quiet. Don't be hungry, thirsty, or need the toilet.

The result? Misbehavior and embarrassed, flustered parents! Rinse and repeat several times and now shopping is the Dreaded Activity that parents hate (feel judged, feel like bad parents) and kids loathe (get told off, nothing nice happens)

Suggestion: Give them a list of things to find (a pink jacket, black shoes with laces, a bag of pasta, a purple notebook), ask for their input (do you think Uncle James would wear something like this?), let them safely explore a little (can you go up this aisle and get the flour?), give them the bag to hold, literally think of anything to engage your kid! And understand that if you are out all day, then they are probably getting tired! Have regular breaks! Let them rest!

When kids are wound up, bored, and under-stimulated, they seek things out to do. In my store, that usually manifests in them climbing onto the displays where the mannequins are. I always have to step in (risking the wrath of parents who don't like their children being told off), because this is not safe. There are a lot things that can hurt kids in shops. You will find companies cheap out when fitting stores, resulting in things not being made to withstand the weight of a six-year-old.

Stands are wobbly. Rails will tip over. Here in the UK, a boy was literally killed when a mirror fell on him. By figuring out ways to help keep your kid engaged and happy, you reduce the likelihood of them misbehaving and potentially getting hurt.

What a happy note to end on...

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. Fellow retail survivors, feel free to add with more advise!

[baebebell]

Kirishima settles into a routine of his classes but had passed for the minimum score for an ap economics class he didn't want to take but decided to just tough it out and ask his friend Bakugo to help him and tutor him but Bakugo's techniques are extreme and finds himself only succeeding with this class at the expense of his other classes.Being in the 2nd row with Bakugo at their usual seats as the professor has the tests passed out he looks down at a you seeing the score being a 101 higher than Bakugo's by 1 point, he only knows this because Bakugo had the nerve to make a nasty comment about 'how that chick is always near the same library spot we go to and that she most likely doesn't have anything important to do with her time'. Bakugo found gears in his head turning as the blonde stares down at your test and Kirishima's 78.

After everyone at the end of class begins to leave Kirishima notices bakugo straggling behind intentionally still at his seat despite being all packed up. As kirishima is about to ask what he is doing.Bakugo singles you out

"Hey, extra with the messy hair!" he points at you stalking towards your path shocked, considering this is the first time speaking in the 3 weeks of class.

"Yes, Bakugo?"

Bakugo yanks Kirishima's test score from his hand."Hey what the-"

"He needs help with tutoring I've spent over 6 days of studying with him and i have better things to do with my time and your already in the library when we are there so your gonna help him you got that four eyes!"

He shouts in your face the wind from him yelling fogs up your glasses. taking them off and wiping them with the bottom of your shirt you just squint over at Kirishima before nodding and speak with a slight smile.

"Could've just asked. Does this mean the library will finally go back to peace and quiet Bakugo?" Bakugo scoffs and Kirishima anticipates another outburst, but instead he just yanks Kirishima's phone out of his and and your phone as well.

"Put your number in his phone."

You do not put up a fight figuring this would be the easier process. Bakugo presses the call icon and just nods seeing your phone buzz.

"Thanks mutt, cmon kirishima before the idiots start blowing up my phone."

"Alright, thank you-" he waits for you to respond with your name.

"(y/n), I'll see you later Kirishima."

he smiles at your kindness and bearing when coming to his explosive friend's temper and commands. He waves goodbye to join Bakugo going to see the rest of his friend group for the student cafeteria.

• • •

Kirishima heads to the library to the usual spot he and bakugo used to go to after getting a text from you insisting despite the circumstances that you would actually enjoy tutoring him. He looks around before spotting you and your stuff in the usual couch and coffee table surrounded by bookshelves and near the cafe spot in the library that he always sees you occupied. He smiles at you after you notice him stare at you.

"Hi Kirishima, do you have the material you are struggling with and the test Mr. Snipe gave out today?"

He nods unpacking his backpack and notices all of your stationary to be in the same color as your backpack assuming its your favorite. After he is all settled in he looks over you seeing you being smaller than he thought and taking in all the features of your face.

"Well we should start off the questions you got wrong being mainly the ones that trick you with wording an average person would be tricked as well so don't feel too bad about that here are the main phrases you should focus on to avoid problems like this in the future."

He sees your hand trace over the problems he got wrong and being in a quiet and calm setting in contrast to bakugo hitting his head with a book everytime he got it wrong he sees himself understanding the content of the subject more than usual. You break it down in a simpler way for his simple mind to understand and he feels his ego slightly hurt from being gentle parented in the subject but more enthusiastic about him finally understanding the questions thrown at him.

• • •

He looks at the time and sees it has been 2 hours and 30 minutes he sees the cafe sign and sees they are open 24/7 kind of brutal for the baristas but he assumes people will always need coffee.

"Let me get you a drink from the cafe what would you like?"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive and I don't care what you get I have a friend named mina who adds a bunch of syrups and foams and whatever else there is to add to coffee or chai or whatever else there is."

You giggle at him hes trying to make it less awkward.

"Ok that's very kind of you but just ask the barista for a students crack and to give it a chain and she'll know what to make."

"Some weird barista lingo but ok."He comes back with his cappuccino and your matcha with sweet foam and light ice. The tutoring continues for another 2 hours he checks the time being 7pm. Finishing the graded test and the weeks ahead curriculum from the syllabus Kirishima finds himself ready for the week.

"You probably won't need to see me until next Monday, we pretty much covered the rest of the week so depending on your test scores, I'll see you Monday?"

"Sounds great thank you again for the help, I know Bakugo launched this at you but I am very grateful you took me into your study session anyways."

He smiles at you as you two begin to pack your things and throw away your cups of finished drinks learning he feels very strongly about littering when he had interned in highschool his boss made him pick up litter around the city for 12 hours straight.

"Let me walk you to your dorm it wouldn't be manly of me to leave a friend by yourself."

You agree and you walk on the UA college campus. It’s late afternoon, the time when the sun casts a warm, golden haze over everything. You notice groups scattered across the green lawns and tucked into shady nooks. There’s laughter in the air, people sprawled on blankets, tossing frisbees, or studying together with legs tangled and heads close. You can’t help but let your gaze linger on them—their easy closeness, the unspoken bond that holds them together like gravity. Then you look at Kirishima as he smiles at you the sun directly behind him giving him the illusion that he shines, or was that just his angelic aura you don't know but continue on the walk until you reach your door."Thanks again for the help with you in my corner I feel unbreakable!"

He poses activating his hardening quirk having you giggle at his friendliness.

"Well thank you for the drink, you didn't need to give me anything, I'll see you again at the library on Monday."

"Alright then, don't be a stranger (y/n), I'll see you in class."

• • •

It's the next day in class when Mr.Snipe decides to have group projects of 3 since there are around 62 people in the lecture hall. Kirishima and Bakugo see the amount of students begin to surround you with pleading looks on their face, most likely hoping you'd take pity and do most of the work. Kirishima doesn't hesitate and waves at you above the crowd of 7 students.

"Hey, (Y/n) me you and Bakugo should make a team we'd definitely work out the best!" , looking over at the blonde he seems uninterested with the conversation focusing on his laptop researching the given topic of historical Japanese economic moments that impact the current economy.

"Sure, Sounds good kirishima give Bakugo my number and we can decide how to divy up the work."

"Of course, wanna grab a bite to eat afterwards at-ow"You see kirishima jerk slightly Bakugo glare at Kirishima no longer focused on his laptop daring kirishima to finish his sentence. Kirishima not understanding the cue finishes his question

."A nice burger joint we frequently go to, you'd be able to meet the rest of our friends since we're basically pals already."

Seeing kirishima trying to invite you out despite the looks of his friend creates a warm feeling in your chest. However to keep the peace for the upcoming project it'd probably be best to decline for now until building rapport with Bakugo.

"Thank you for the invite, however I use lunch time for a stem program I'm in for the support course."

Bakugo lifts an eyebrow at the response somewhat intrigued. But just slams his laptop shut closing it. Kirishima looks at him as Bakugo begins to talk to you.

"Alright square, I sent a text to the group chat meet at the library at 1800."

Bakugo rolls his eyes and leaves the lecture hall with kirishima following him. He flashes you a smile before leaving.

• • •

It’s only been three days since you’ve broken past that awkward barrier with Kirishima going from tutor to close friends, but somehow, in such a short time, he's managed to weave his way into your life as if he’s always been there. The quiet greetings exchanged when you two would enter class at the same time have become a regular thing, but Kirishima’s never one to keep things subtle. Now, whenever he spots you on campus or in the library, his face lights up with that unmistakable grin, calling out,

“Hey, (Y/n) my friend!”

loud enough to turn a few heads. He seems determined to emphasize your newfound friendship to anyone within earshot—and he's not shy about wrapping an arm around you whenever he gets the chance, his hand resting comfortably on your shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world he insists on now having you sit right by him and kind of sad if you stay in your seat saying a disappointed"Oh ok, no biggie.", how could you say no to a dear friend.What you hadn’t expected was that "studying together" would be just the beginning and the project just sealing your fate. Kirishima has this magnetic personality that pulls you into his orbit effortlessly, and now you’re being dragged along with him and Bakugo into his—well, your—friend group. The so-called "Bakusquad," as Denki likes to call it, although you think it’s a ridiculous name. It puts Bakugo at the helm, which you’re certain he hates but doesn’t outright reject either.

You suppose Denki isn’t wrong, though; it’s because of Bakugo that you’re even friends with Kirishima now, seeing as you never would have agreed to tutor him if Bakugo hadn’t practically cornered you into it.But now, you’re here. Somehow, you’re spending your time after classes huddled with these rowdy boys along with, Mina and Jiro who are thankful to have you there to balance out the group of friends, they all have taken to treating you like you’ve always been part of the group. And, though you’d never admit it out loud, you’re starting to enjoy it despite not really being social before hand and keeping to yourself. Kirishima’s arm still hangs around your shoulders while you’re talking, a comfortable weight that makes you feel... included. He’s animated, excitedly recounting some ridiculous story from last night’s training session, his laugh infectious and warm. Bakugo rolls his eyes at the tale, muttering insults under his breath, but there’s a small, hidden smile there too, barely visible to anyone but you.And somehow, without you realizing it, this chaos has become a part of your daily routine. The noise, the easy camaraderie, the way Kirishima’s gaze lingers on you sometimes, and how he insists on calling you his friend—somehow, it’s all started to feel like the new norm.

[himikochan]

Heyyo friends I wanted to share my recently finished object! I try to do at least 1 sweater a year that challenges my knitting and crafting skills. This year I picked steeking- a technique where a knitted object is sewn and cut into- and this one also delightfully used up a bunch of yarn that I had purchased in 2020 for a different project (I tried to make a pattern for a Feather and Fan dolman sleeved cardigan and there's a reason no one has done that, at least in the colorway I did, it was hideous-- that being said, I did chart out how to do an in pattern feather and fan increase so I have that tucked away).

I've recently de-stashed a lot of yarn: there's no shame in admitting that what makes you feel creative and comfortable has changed! And you should be okay with letting half-finished projects go if you don't want to finish them! My grandma has moved into a community for seniors on fixed incomes, who are often on the hunt for cheap/free crafting supplies, and the folx in her building were absolutely delighted to accept the skeins that I didn't love anymore!

I have been thinking a lot about how I want the space I live in to look; especially because I'm privileged to have been gifted so many crafting/art supplies over the years, purchased some and had my interests change, I've been on and off struggling with my mental health, and I've been really prioritizing making my space easier to keep tidy and "sparking joy" so to speak. So now my yarn stash and tools largely fits into 1 bin! I don't necessarily have projects in mind for them, but they more closely align with the colors I like to wear now, textures I like to knit with, and it's a manageable amount for me to paw through when I'm ready to cast on a new project.

All of the yarn for the abandoned dolman cardigan was saved from being re-homed and I was committed to using at least some of it because I had a good amount of it! I had purchased 5 cakes of Palette in Cosmopolitan (a fuschia fingering weight), 4 of Aloft in Cosmopolitan (a fuschia lace mohair), and 4 of Wool of the Andes Sport in Ash (a grey sport weight) from Knitpicks. I knew I wanted to make a cozy sweater out of it but the fuschia and grey color palette was a little too stark for the designs I've been into lately.

On Local Yarn Store day this year, I had picked up a skein of ColourLab DK by West Yorkshire Spinners in Tutti Frutti from Firefly Fiber Arts Studio (a self striping DK weight yarn in yellow/purple/pink/magenta/orange) because I thought it would look interesting with those colors! I DID NOT THINK ABOUT HOW THEY WERE ALL DIFFERENT WEIGHTS THOUGH!!! don't worry it ends up okay

I ended up picking the pattern Flower Power by Anna Johanna because it was a steeked color work sweater that used 3 different colors- it's meant to be knit entirely in a DK weight which is what my multicolor is. Sport weight, my grey, is a little lighter than DK but I knew wouldn't be too much of an issue. My fuschias were held together but a fingering weight and lace held together is still functionally much smaller than than a DK.

I struggle with gauge and my gauge changes as I knit, so swatching only helps me so much. My projects have a tendency to grow during blocking, especially length-wise. I was between sizes so I sized down and basically knit the length at 60% of what I wanted (so pre-blocked the sleeves were just past my elbows and they blocked out to my wrists). For the yoke, I followed the pattern as written but used size 6/4mm needles (I swapped to the recommended size 7/4.5mm for rows of a single color) because I knit my colorwork a little loosely. When I got to the body, my fingering weight was just too thin so I held it double and still sized up to size 10/6mm needles so I would have a nice cushy fabric.

I still ended up with a full cake and a half of Palette and Aloft, a half skein of ColorLab, and probably 2 of Wool of the Andes Sport. But I used so much of what I had and I have a cool new cardigan!!!

The pattern was well written and the design is super cute! I will say, the bottom half of the last set of flowers is a little tight but I suspect that's an issue with me sizing down and my gauge issues. I don't think that's a pattern issue, that's my bad, and really it just affects the drape when I raise my arms up which isn't really an issue. Additionally, if I had sized up I think the body of the sweater would have been too big for me. Maybe I should have used the bust dart option in the pattern but I didn't think it would be necessary (TL;DR it's probably my shoulders causing the issue but because of the way 3D patterning works with yokes, the tension can migrate to the chest even if you don't have a large chest).

While I like my cardigan very very very much, I can now see that these stripes weren't the best pick to show off the flower pattern. I can see the flowers more now than pre-blocked, but the stripes are a little too bold and detract a bit from the overall effect. IMO it looks like a technicolor cheetah print, which I like, but it's not the flowers I was thinking haha. The length of the dyed stripes is very long, which I normally like, but a shorter or smaller stripe might have softened the bold yellow line. Additionally, those colors are the same intensity as the grey: if I had replaced the grey with a white or light grey, the multicolor stripes might have shown more.....

This was my first time steeking and I loved it! I followed the prep instructions in the pattern and followed along with Katie Green's tutorial on cutting steeks. It was very very fun and NGL it was exhilarating cutting through something I had knitted!

The buttons also came from my stash, my mama gave them to me a few years ago :')

so like I'm feeling the normal PROJECT NAUGHTY and I LOVE PROJECT and in 2 weeks, when it's cold again, I will love them :3

.

PS I just finished writing this post and I'm a bingus and just realized this is my second sweater this year (I count the year ending on my birthday) and I never finished my post on the Soldotna sweater

PPS I tried a knitting machine at the library and I loved the experience! I think that's my new thing to learn and tinker with and, because I love the feeling of fingering weight and struggle with gauge for fingering weight, I bid on one and GOT one at a steal! It'll be here next week, thinking of names to give them :)

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 41

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, King's Landing POV

Words: 2219

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40 Part 42 Part 43

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

Varys scurried in the shadows as he occasionally glanced over his shoulder. The city streets were filled with rioters and broken glass. Had he not known all the ins and outs of the city, Varys would surely have succumbed to the mob frenzy. Once they saw his fine clothes, they would know he held an important position in life.

Vocally thanking the gods when he finally made it safely back in the Red Keep, Varys had to take a deep breath before continuing on his ay to the Small Council. In Doing so he passed by the towering figure of the Iron Throne. It was cast in an orange hue from the setting sun.

A small handing grabbing at his robes made his heart leap all the way to his throat. One of his little birds looked up at him with hungry eyes and much to tell.

Checking both ends of the corridor, he leans down to listen to the music his bird weaved. Such valuable information. What could this all mean for Westeros? Varys couldn’t believe that the crazy young girl Thalina had entrusted him with a dragon egg! She had outwitted the Spider and managed to keep the secret.

Thanking the child, he hurried to his original destination. A chamber off to the side of the Throne Room sat the King’s Small Council. They were considered the most powerful men in Westeros besides the king himself. Most times they made decisions when Aerys was incapacitated. The Mad King never made their work easy, but this was getting out of hand. Inside, Varys was enveloped by arguing from two of his colleagues while the others could only hold their head in their hands. At least the yelling in the chambers didn’t compare to the shouts and hollers that shook the earth outside. Owen Merryweather, Hand of the King since Tywin Lannister’s resignation, just stared into his stem of wine. Grand Maestor Pycelle was attempting to hold. His own against Gerold Hightower.

“You would dare even utter such treasonous words?!” Pycelle’s old voice trembled as did the heavy skin around his neck.

Ser Gerold, dark circles under his eyes for being awake two consecutive days in a row, slammed his hands on the great oaken table. “The king is treasonous for how he is treating his people, us included. He is completely gone, Pycelle.” He shakes his head and momentarily, Varys regrets having taken Ser Barristan away from him at such a time. The City Guard’s number was vanishing fast as rioters grew emboldened enough to drive their blades into their armor. His own Kingsguard brothers were losing their resolve.

The maestor was old and set in his ways. After decades of being strictly loyal to whoever was in power, of course Pycelle would take slight to anyone who spoke ill of his king. He must have known though the harm it was to keep Aerys on the throne.

Lord Velaryon, the Master of Ships, was the only one to take notice of Varys silently slipping in. “You’re late.”

Hightower and Pycelle stopped and turned to the eunuch who hadn’t even made it to his seat.

“Forgive me. The streets are hectic and difficult to maneuver around.” Varys took out his handkerchief and dabbed his brow.

Hearing that, Ser Gerold stares pointedly at Pycelle. “Not even the Spider can move around in the city. We need to do something about Aerys.”

Maester’s chains clinking together as Pycelle trembled, he pushes himself away from the table. “I will not hear it.”

“Grand Maester Pycelle, Hightower is right.” Lord Owen sighed now that things had quiet down. “As the Hand of the King, I don’t like the idea of ripping Aerys from the throne. The people are rioting. If we don’t do something, then all of our heads will join Aerys’.”

“You should understand self-preservation better than anyone.” Gerold folded his arms in front of his chest, sounding glad that finally someone was siding with him.

Pycelle’s sallow cheeks beam bright with indignation. He sputters, stumbling to come up with a reply but Varys’ hand on his shoulder tells him it would be best to be silent.

“It’s true, my friend. We will all die if we turn our gaze away again. The fire mages have lost another acolyte in the mass production of wildfire that Aerys ordered them to manufacture. Now some are even being targeted by civilians.” Varys managed to get the Grand Maester to sit back down. He folded his hands into his sleeves as he moves to his chair.

Qarlton Chelsted, the Master of Coin, tented his fingers in thought. “If we did manage to remove Aerys, what then? King’s Landing will still be vulnerable against Rhaegar once he finds out.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Prince Rhaegar would be a great improvement.” Varys comments with a small smile. “We’ve all been around him as he has grown into a fine young man. We know him. He’s nothing like Aerys.”

“Aerys wasn’t always like this, remember.” Pointed out Pycelle. “Once upon a time he used to be an aspirational young man much like Rhaegar until the Targaryen Madness ate away at his mind. Then we’ll wind up in the same situation we’re in now.”

“That is a great possibility.” Varys concedes. “But Rhaegar won’t be alone in ruling the Seven Kingdoms.”

“How so?”

It came as no surprise the look of confusion each member of the council had on their face when Varys brought up Rhaegar’s young wife. They had probably let whatever memory they had of her fade away. She had been an unremarkable girl, Rhaegar’s little mouse in the capital, but in Essos she was making a name for herself. All of what he told the Council might have sounded like a fable, Varys had acknowledged this when he decided to share with them the news he just received. He wasn’t sure which part was more shocking; the fact that the girl was actually alive and survived the fire, or the fact that she had successfully hatched a live dragon.

They tried to argue with him, point out faults in his story when they could. No man in that room truly trusted one another. In King’s Landing it was dangerous and foolish to trust anyone really. But the truth of the matter was that no one did find the remains of (y/n). The charred bones of her handmaiden had met them at the door along with ash and smoke. Only wildfire flames were known to disintegrate even bones, but this had been a normal fire. Where the fire had originated from was still unknown, the matter having been put aside the moment Rhaegar started the war.

Hightower stared at his roughened knuckles. “That would explain where Jaime went.” He couldn’t bring himself to use Jaime’s title of Ser. No matter what reason, Jaime should have never deserted his post. He saws a part of the Kingsguard and it was his duty to attend to the king, not his younger sister. Ser Gerold couldn’t forgive him.

“He must have felt it his duty as elder sibling to get her out of here.” Darkly mused Lord Lucerys. Everyone could see the cogs in his head moving. Being Master of Ships as well as Master of Driftmark, he had a vast knowledge of seafare and seemed to know any ship that has sailed through the waters of the Stepstones. He didn’t like the idea of a traitor having traveled on his seas.

Varys was cautious of how he proceeded. Lord Lucerys was a stout supporter of Aerys as was Grand Maester Pycelle, but even they had to open their eyes and realize the harm he was doing.

And the news of a newborn dragon was certainly something to baffle at.

“You’re proposing a coup, Lord Varys.” The Lord of the Stepstones seemed to be warning him but the fight was slowly draining from the man. He had fought hard to rally support for Aerys but even with all his efforts, Lucerys could see the harm Aerys was doing to everyone.

Everyone else felt the same conflicting emotions. If they dared to consider it, they would all be labeled as traitors against Aerys. At that point, they might very well be praised by the commoners for deposing the Mad King.

Hightower was the first to speak, wanting to only go to bed and sleep for a thousand years. “What do you require of us, Lord Varys?”

The air in the king’s chambers was stifled and clouted with his sickness that impacted his mind. Not even the curtain of his windows were open to relieve some of the stuffiness. Anything that could produce a sliver of light was doused with gloom. Aerys felt safe in the dark. No one could find him. No one could harm him. There could be no deceit if he submerged himself in the warm embrace of darkness. It was the one place where his loud thoughts seemed to soften and grow quiet. They seemed to be the only voices he ever listened to now. Not even the screams that occasionally floated up to his tall tower of the Keep could penetrate through to him. The suffering of his people meant little to someone who was mentally suffering.

“You’re no longer a man.” A voice from so long ago whispers. It warms his skin and makes Aerys search wildly for the source. He hadn’t heard that voice for so long. His sweet Joanna. Her glowing silhouette was sitting at a desk, small hands placed prettily in her lap. Joanna hadn’t aged one bit. The freshness of youth evident in her rosy cheeks. She was frowning at him though. Green eyes cold and staring at him. “Joanna!” Aerys grasped and was nearly groveling at her feet. “Is it really you? But. . .” Hadn’t she died? He couldn’t remember. His memory had holes in it. Scattered into the wind and impossible to catch with his bare hands.

“You’ve lost it, Aerys.” Joanna’s flat tone strikes him deep. Palms and knees pressed against the ground, his nails scrap against the chair leg near her dress skirts. He attempted to grab at the material but nothing substantial met his hand.

“And now you will lose the throne.”

He twisted his head and in the corner was more like a ghostly visage to him. Rhaella stood tall and regal, her head held high in defiance to him.

She takes slow, concentrated steps toward Aerys. Fearful of the specter, he backs away; bumping into the chair that had Joanna as an occupant. He turns to beg Joanna for help. No matter how hard he tried to cling to her,there was nothing physical that met his desperate embraces. Why was she not helping? Was it because she was Rhaella’s lady-in-waiting? Joanna had always been so sweet. That look on her face didn’t suit her. It terrified Aerys.

Not even aware of his words, Aerys blurted out “I didn’t kill your daughter!! I didn’t kill her!”

A chill gripped his throat, Rhaella’s hands.

“JOANNA! Joanna please help me!!”

Frantic knocking at the door shatters their images. Aerys is left breathing heavily on the floor.

“Your Grace? Are you alright?”

They hadn’t been real. His clawed hand runs over his thinning silver hair. Sharp nails leave superficial cuts along his exposed scalp but he had grown accustomed to small cuts all over his body. Rhaella’s hands might have been on him, but it was Joanna’s expression that left a haunted feeling upon him.

She had looked at him like that before. When she was still alive. He had a vague memory of it before he had his fallout with Tywin. Tensions had risen when it was revealed that Tywin would be marrying his cousin Joanna Lannister. How many times had Aerys told Tywin how in love he was with her? Tywin purposefully betrayed him. It was true that at the time he was married to Rhaella, not that he particularly enjoyed the union with his sullen sister. Perhaps his life would have been different if he had taken the leap to marry Joanna first.

His guards outside kept pestering him, wondering if he was okay. Aerys screams at the door for all of them to go away. He couldn't trust anyone. Not even his own guards. Selmy had abandoned him as had Jaime Lannister, not that Aerys put much trust into Tywin's son to begin with. The main factor for letting him join his guards was simply to take Tywin's one heir away. He wanted to put the man under as much humiliation as possible. That was why he married Rhaegar to Tywin's least favorite daughter. That dull little thing that was always a pitiful sight as she stood next to the luxurious Rhaegar Targaryen.

Her name was lost to him. It didn't matter anyway. She was dead. Aerys heard the whispers that came from his servants; they thought that he played a hand in the girl's demise. If only that were true. Aerys couldn't take the credit for her death. From what investigators of the matter told him, they could only come up with the conclusion that it was a freak accident.

She was of no consequence to him now.

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[fentrashcat]

So I've been putting off talking about my tourettes recently bc it seems everytime I have the words to express what's going on, something new happens. So instead of trying to organize things or put them into like a semi story-time post, I'm just going to list things out. These will probably not be in chronological order because so much has been going on the last 2 or so months that I've lost track of all the "when"s.

⚠️everyone's experience with Tourette's or tic disorders will be different, I can only speak to my own⚠️

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS for descriptions of tics/tic attacks, description of self injurious tics, abilism ⚠️

1. Nicknamed my Tourette's gremlin "Archibald" or "Archie". I tend to yell at my tics already when I get frustrated or annoyed, so I named him. It's mostly to make myself laugh. Saying "Archie's being an ass" or "apparently Archie didn't like that" makes me giggle, and more so when my friends play along in cursing Archie. It also lets my mom/friends know I'm not hurting from my tics.

2. Developed a lot of new tics. Some I've had before as one offs but are now common ones. The new tics include saying "knock-knock", "hi" (hi being said in not my normal voice), "Beetlejuice!". I've also developed biting at the air? Like my head goes forward and I bite so that my teeth clack.

3. Developed a frequent, kind of self injurious tic. On the same day or week that "knock-knock" came about, I also started knocking on my head twice w my right hand. It can be really soft or really hard to the point it concerns my mom. We tried having me wear like a beanie but it seemed I knocked harder with the hat on, and I'm really picky about hats bc sensory.

4. Got told by the family member I work for that I could easily find another job if I "weren't so picky". I then had to explain to her that I have seen the change in an interviewers face from "You look like a great canidate" to "finish this up as quickly as possible and never contact them again" when I had to disclose my Tourette's (noticeable repeated tics, otherwise I'd never disclose). I also had to tell her that I was "coincidentally" let go from a job the day I had to disclose, after being told repeatedly that I was doing well before. I also had to tell her that the one job that seemed chill about my tics that wasn't family connected, I had to quit bc it was 30/40min away and I don't drive so was begging people to drive me.

5. Fully convinced Archie is actively trolling now, as the "Beetlejuice" tic came about after mom said her coworker said it and she had to repeat it 3 times fast (she also has tics but is undiagnosed). Then the "Beetlejuice" started and she had to repeat it everytime.

6. I've been working for like 4 weeks now, and have had Tourette's related issues 4 times now. I've left work an hour early twice, 5 hours early once, and had to miss a day due to tics/tic attacks.

7. The missed day actually happened this week. I started getting intense head jerk tics about an hour before my shift finished, but I wanted to try working through it. Every few minutes I'd be forced to quickly/violently look to the right 5-10 times in a row. It started to hurt really bad but I managed to finish out my shift. By the end of my shift my head, neck, and shoulders hurt like crazy, and pain meds didn't seem to help at all. (Wasn't sure if they'd help for repetitive motions but figured was worth a shot). It kept going like that for 3 or 4 hours before I relented and said I won't be able to come in the next day. I couldn't lift my arms above my head or look to either side from the pain of it all. I'm still sore like 2 days later but able to move around now.

8. Biting the air tic came about when I was kind of hungry, but apparently also happens when I'm pissed? Happens randomly too, but thought that was funny.

9. Trying to figure out how to get my family to understand that just bc tics CAN mean something is wrong, they don't ALWAYS mean something is wrong. I know they're just worried and wanting to help me but if I tic 3 or 4 times in a row they keep asking "what's wrong" and won't take "nothing, it's just happening" as an answer. At which point I end up getting frustrated because they keep asking and the frustration leads to more tics.

10. We pulled up at a gas station that was advertising hot dogs and my mom ticced "hot dog" in the same voice she uses when our puppy brings her her hotdog toy. She was trying to suppress it, and afterwards she looks at me and goes "I couldn't NOT say it, like it physically hurt trying to not, is that how you feel all the time?" And I was just like yeaaaah pretty much. Mom's tics are usually reactionary, and she doesn't get a lot of premonitory urges, so it was really unusual for her.

That's all I can think of at the moment, thank you for reading. If I think of anything else I'll probably make another post but I'm not sure if I will. Sorry this one was so dense, I've been putting this off for a while lol.

[underratedbitch-number13]

Part 3 : Elpis

A/N: I know that I have been gone for very long and almost abandoned these series. But I have exams going, and yesterday's paper was one of the shittiest ones I've ever written and I was feeling super down. So I came back to finish the angst, lol.

Anyways, I think it's lowkey rushed, but I hope everyone likes it :)

Also It felt so weird writing this chapters because I kept getting new ideas and I wanted to keep writing, but I didn't want to make it tooo long, though it's still pretty lengthy.

Repeating for clarity, MC DID NOT KNOW Mammon at all. She's a complete random stranger who happened to be there.

This part is going to be pretty heavy, so please proceed with caution.

Part 3 : Elpis

(Mammon x F!MC)

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Mammon is almost about to attempt suicide, bullying, verbal abuse, physical abuse, and mental abuse, blood, self harm, nightmares.

A LOT OF ANGST!!!

If you are sensitive to any of these, please do not read. This could be triggering.

Written in Third Person POV. Also, If there are any grammatical errors, please feel free to correct them.

Number of words : 2.5k

|| ☞ Part 1 || ☞ Part 2 || ☞ Part 4(coming end of April 2024) ||

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Simeon woke up with a gasp.

Beads of sweat lined his forehead as he desperately tried to calm his erratic breathing. It was the 6th time in a row.

He had another vision.

Simeon and Luke had temporarily returned to Celestial Realm after Luke fell seriously ill. Luke had almost recovered, but he needed a few more days to heal completely before they returned for the exchange program.

Simeon and Luke weren't aware of anything that had transpired back in Devildom in their absence, because they had left before the video was released.

But since the past few days, Simeon has been seeing terrible visions.

Visions of Mammon's death followed by utter chaos among his brothers, then a war with the human world. He vividly remembers seeing the Sorcerer's Society up in arms against the 6 brothers.

Solomon was there too, fighting against the brothers.

Simeon felt shivers when recalled how brutally Solomon ended Asmodeus's life after using their pact to his advantage. The entire war was a bloody mess with many dead, including Belphegor, Asmodeus, and Leviathan.

His visions never showed him the end of the war, so he never knew who won.

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand Simeon decided it was time to talk to Michael. He needed to inform him about the visions and apologize for not telling sooner.

Getting out of his bed, Simeon got ready to visit Michael.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Michael appeared perplexed when Simeon told him about his visions.

Visions were not a part of Simeon's powers. Now he was seeing a recurring vision, that too one about a war between humans and demons?

Michael sent Simeon back after reassuring him that he'd get in touch with him about this matter soon. Unsatisfied with Michael's answer Simeon reluctantly headed back to his place.

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach and he couldn't shake it off.

He cared about Solomon and the brothers, and he had grown very attached to them. These visions were like nightmares to him, and he felt helpless. He really wanted to do something to prevent all of this.

The thing that perplexed him the most was Mammon's death.

He did not know the cause of his death, he only knew that his body was found in the human realm with his heart ripped out.

Seeing his brother's body in that condition had incurred Lucifer's wrath, equivalent to what he had seen during the war before his fall.

The brothers had concluded that humans were somehow responsible for Mammon's death and bathed the human world in blood. Simeon's head hurt just thinking about it.

"Father," he prayed. "Please protect everyone."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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Barbatos and Diavolo had known. 

They were aware of the tragedy that was about to occur, after all, Barbatos had already checked every timeline.

Unfortunately, all of them only had one outcome, Mammon's death.

Diavolo was devastated upon learning this. He had failed! He failed as the future King! How could he not protect his subject, his dear friend Mammon?

Barbatos himself felt a little lost, his stoic persona wavered as remembered what he what he saw. Although he never openly showed his affection for Mammon, he cared. He cared more than anyone would believe.

It was hard for either of them to digest the fact

The panic slowly started to set in.

Diavolo insisted on talking to Mammon immediately, but he was stopped by Barbatos, who informed him of how every effort made by them in other timelines had done more damage than help.

In one timeline, when they tried talking to Mammon about his mental health, he denied everything. He laughed it off and replied with a "Nobody can hurt the Great Mammon!"

In other timelines, if they punished the students for bullying him, they would isolate themselves even further from him and would call him a snitch or a baby. And if they tried to stop Asmodeus from releasing the video by going to the past, another video of Mammon would always surface.

In the end, they couldn't change the future.

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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The winds picked up as Barbatos chanted mantras to invoke his most powerful magic.

Diavolo stood not far away, looking at the figure at a distance with a grave look on his face, his demon form emerging as Mammon stepped closer to the edge.

The Prince of Hell had never imagined that a day like this would ever come. The guilt in his heart was immeasurable knowing he had failed his dear subject, and he had almost been too late to realize that.

Now they had no option but to do this. Barbatos was going to freeze the time on Earth for a couple of hours until the full moon ended and then erase his memories from the past few months.

The next moon full as powerful as this one was three months away and that should give them more time to do something.

His eyes turned to Barbatos on his left as he stood in a trance-like state with his eyes closed, a dark aura emitting from him. He was almost done with the process.

"δεθιλΠγπξΨυΣἀἧΪΏ"

Barbatos began chanting louder, and his eyes slowly started opening to release his powers.

Diavolo turned his attention back to Mammon to check on him, and his eyes widened at what he saw. “Barbatos stop!” He yelled and grabbed the butler’s arm to break his concentration.

Barbatos fell on his knees, eyes opened wide and bloodshot, tears pouring out of them. "My Lord," Barbatos gasped, completely out of breath. "Why?"

Diavolo winced at Barbatos' state."Barbatos, I apologize. But we don't need to intervene anymore. He already has."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

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Silver butterflies.

They were a sign of God’s presence.

Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer were the only demons who knew about those butterflies. They are usually seen when someone about to die is about to ascend to heaven OR it means that God was around.

Mammon, who was surrounded, couldn’t see the silver butterflies dancing around him.

They formed a line that was going in a particular direction. Almost like it was linking Mammon with something.

Or someone.

A human girl?

Diavolo and Barbatos watched from a distance, as the girl approached the bridge. She too was surrounded by the silver butterflies.

And she could see them.

There was awe on her face as she stared at those beautiful miracles fluttering around her. The bright full moon, the silver butterflies, and the gentle cool winds made the scene look magical.

Diavolo and Barbatos watched as the girl followed the butterflies giggling, not noticing Mammon.

Until she did. Her eyes fell on Mammon's figure, still in his human form, standing on the ledge with a painfully serene look on his face. The silver butterflies long forgotten, she ran towards Mammon with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

"No," she gasped, grabbing Mammon and pulling him down. “Please, please don’t do it.”

"What da hell?" Mammon cursed. "Who are ya?"

The human who was smiling and giggling just a few moments ago now had heavy tears flowing down her face.

"Please don't do this."

"What is it to ya?" Mammon yanked his hand out of the human's hands.

"It's not worth it, please. Don't do it," she repeated.

Mammon sighed irritatedly. "Look human, ya should go back. Ya don't know me and it's not yer place to tell me what to do."

"Please, it will hurt your loved ones--"

"I DON'T HAVE LOVED ONES." Mammon roared. "I am a scumbag, I don't deserve to live or be loved."

"That's not true!"

"What do ya know?!"

"Yes, I don't anything!! But what I do know is that nothing in this world is worth more than your life. It doesn't matter who loves whom. It's never going to be worth more than you!"

Mammon stayed silent.

"Why should you die for their sins? Why should you suffer because they aren't good people? I'm sorry you had to go through whatever you did, I'm sorry you don't think you deserve to be loved, and I'm really sorry that you find solace in the idea of dying. But please please please for the love of God, please don't do this"

Mammon wanted to scoff at the human. For the love of God? His father whom he betrayed for his wretched brother who has abandoned him now?

Karma, it's probably Karma, Mammon thinks.

He didn't want to listen to the human in front of him, after all, she was speaking the truth. He shouldn't have to suffer for his brothers.

But he was tired. Mammon didn't feel like he had enough strength to be strong another day. He had forgotten how to love himself, and without love, he knew he would shrivel.

Death was really the only option left.

Mammon realized that he shouldn't waste his time any further talking to this human. She was too nice for him and it's pretty late for a human girl to be out anyways.

"Look, I get what ya tryin' to say-"

"No," she stopped him from speaking, taking hold of his arm again. " I am not going to let you do it. You better be prepared to kill me if you want me to let go of you."

"Have ya lost yer mind?" Mammon looked at her with disbelief.

"No, I have not. But I will lose my mind because of guilt if I ignore this and let you do it."

Why? Why was this human going so far for him? Pity? Guilt?

"I will be there for you. We can be friends."

Mammon scoffed. What an arrogant human.

"Yer as stupid as ya look. Ya think I won't kill ya? And what makes ya think yer sob speech is enough to not make me jump? Ya only wanna be ma friend outta pity and I don't want any of that. Ya don't havta feel guilty or anythin. The world is not yer child an yer not responsible for it. Go home."

Mammon forced himself out of the human's grip and stood up. He looked at her, as she stared blankly at the ground.

He felt bad for being rude to her, but he had no choice. Mammon didn't like pity. After giving her one last look and climbed the edge again. He was about to switch to his demon form when a thought crossed his mind

Won't the human get terrified if she sees his demon form? What if she has nightmares?

"Give me one minute," she spoke interrupting Mammon's train of thoughts. She whipped out her phone and began typing furiously.

Is she calling for help? Will I have to deal with more annoying humans?

"Done," she declared and tossed her phone to the side of the bridge. It landed sideways and you could hear it crack.

What the--?

"Can you move a little and make some space for me? " She asked Mammon, coming over to where he was standing.

Mammon stood on a small ledge at the end of the bridge. It was the darkest corner and that's why he chose it. Although it was small, it could still hold two people.

"What are ya doing?" Mammon questioned, as the human struggled to get on the ledge.

"Joining you."

"What? Why? Human, have ya seriously lost yer mind?"

"No."

"Then what hell is yer problem ?! Why can't ya just leave me alone? Was that irritating speech of yours jus' empty words? Does the same logic not apply to ya?"

"My brother committed suicide six months ago."

What--??

"I was the one who found his body. It was dark when I entered his room and his legs hit my face. He was hanging from the ceiling."

Mammon was left speechless at this sudden confession.

"I often wondered you know, why did he do it. He didn't leave a letter, a note, or even give a proper goodbye. He was my only family. I haven't moved on from his death yet. What if I had paid attention, would I have noticed that my always happy and smiling older brother was actually struggling? Did I ever notice how tired he looked or how lifeless his eyes were? If I had, maybe he would still be here."

There was a pause, as she struggled to continue.

"Maybe if I was a better sister, maybe if I wasn't such a burden, then he wouldn't have died. I feel so pathetic you know. So useless. If anything he deserved to live more than I do. He worked so many jobs to ensure we both had a roof over our heads and food on our plates. He sacrificed most of his life to make sure that my life was good, and what did I do for him? Nothing."

"Hey stop. Yer not to blame for anything that happened, and ya don't havta to tell me if it's so painful--"

"No, I am telling you all of this because I want you know to that I don't have a reason to live either. I had lost my will to live the day my brother died, but I kept going because everyone told me that my brother would've wanted me to be happy. I tried, I tried so hard to be happy but I couldn't. And today when I saw you on the ledge with the same expression as my brother on the day he killed himself, I felt the world slip under my feet. If I can't stop you from killing yourself, it's going to destroy me. So why not join you? I always feared dying alone anyway."

She had successfully climbed up and now stood beside Mammon.

"If you don't mind, can I request something? Can we hold hands when we jump?"

Mammon could tell she was trembling, he could sense her fear.

Humans truly are the most annoying species in the whole universe.

"Tch, stupid human," Mammon grumbled and picked up the human in bridal style. He got down from the ledge and walked away from the corner, still holding her in his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Shuddup, I'm taking ya to the mental hospital. Ya need some serious help."

"Do you know the address to one?"

"No, but ya will tell me. I know ya know."

"Fine, I'll tell you. But can we please stop at my place for a bit? I have to pick up a couple of things."

"Tch tch, Annoying little human."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

ALSO GUYS I AM SO SORRY FOR ABANDONING THIS. I WILL FINISH THIS SERIES BY THE END OF THIS MONTH, I PROMISE.

And also thank you to everyone who took their time to read so far. I really really appreciate it.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Please let me know your thoughts on how you feel about this.

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