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[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[thewickedjazzy]

Special week: Blurred Lines for Kinktober.

♡featuring: jjk & bsd x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩PHASE 1: geto & chuuya x reader

♡synopsis: being a movie star in the jjk world has its perks and pitfalls, especially when you find yourself face-to-face with four swoon-worthy men. to make things even more complicated, you end up sandwiched between chuuya and geto in one night.

♡warnings: ņsfw, mdņi 18+, established plot, smųt with plot, characters are aged up or in their 20s, threesome, double penetration, cum mentioned, double cream pie, unprotected sex, fingering, degradation 'slut' ... not proofreaded, ig that's it?

♡word count & a/n: 5.2k, a special thank you & a smooch to @remlionheart for helping my ass write this and feeding my brain with her sweet ideas. it was so amusing and fun to write that i couldn't stop giggling. this fic is dedicated to my bbg @bittysuguro

[check the jjk & bsd special week masterlist]

“what do you mean my card got declined?!” a furious voice echoes across the pristine, high-end louis vuitton boutique.

you pause mid-step, glancing over your shoulder. the boutique is one of the most luxurious on omotesando street, and you haven't expected any kind of outburst here, of all places and you can’t help but arch an eyebrow, pondering if he's trying to pay with monopoly money or if his bank account has suddenly taken a nosedive.

the subject of the chaos stands by the counter, fuming—he’s a redheaded man in a black designer coat with a flat cap pulled low over his striking blue eyes. he looks like he just walked out of a fashion editorial, except for the part where he is practically roaring at the terrified cashier and waving a gold card like a weapon.

you find yourself blinking once again—what in the world is going on?

“sir, i ran it three times, and each time—” the cashier stammers, flinching as the redhead leans over the counter like he is about to blow the place up.

“i know there’s money on it! RUN IT AGAIN!” he growls, and you swear you can see veins popping in his neck.

before the poor cashier can even protest further, another man saunters into view, tall, lean, and wearing the most obnoxiously casual yet designer outfit. white hair peeks out from under a pair of dark sunglasses, and despite the clear chaos, he is wearing the cockiest grin you’d ever seen.

“tsk..no need to get so worked up,” the white-haired man drawled, arms laden with five louis vuitton bags. “your poor is showing.”

the redhead whirls on him, eyes blazing. “what did you just say, you asshole?”

the taller man stands there unfazed with his shit grin spreading wider. “you heard me, short stack.”

the redhead’s whole body stiffens, and you half expect him to launch himself across the store. you are only a few paces away, casually browsing the new bags collection, but now you find yourself watching the scene unfold like a deer caught in headlights.

“oh, please,” the white-haired man replies with a chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. “you sure you wanna do this, kid?”

at that moment, the shorter guy’s feet literally lift off the ground as he floats up toward the white-haired man, arm cocking back for a punch. it's like some weird gravity-defying stunt, and you can't help but stare, unsure whether you are hallucinating or if this is a really elaborate prank. you half-expect someone to jump out and yell, ��surprise! you’re on candid camera!” while someone else films your bewildered expression.

the punch swings forward but… stops. midair.

“what the—” the redhead sputters, his fist hovering a mere inch from the smug man’s face, like an invisible barrier is blocking it.

“oh,” the taller man snickers, “you actually tried.”

just as things are about to get out of hand, a third man appeared—a taller figure with dark hair tied back wearing a serene expression as if he just strolled in from a yoga session. he places a hand on the redhead’s shoulder, gently pulling him back to the ground.

“hey man, let’s not destroy the boutique today, alright?” he says, tone weary yet unbelievably calm, like he is used to this kind of chaos. his gaze shifts to the white-haired man whilst rolling his eyes. “saturo, stop antagonizing everyone you meet. people are staring.”

the redhead grumbles something under his breath, glaring daggers at the taller man—saturo?—who simply chuckles back at him.

just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, the fiery-haired man still glaring at gojo, like he’d just stolen his lunch money—suddenly turns his gaze toward you as if he can feel your eyes boring into him. “what are you staring at?”

he takes a step toward you, and you feel your body tense up like a live wire. you can't help but blink back at him, because honestly, what are you supposed to say? "oh sorry, just trying to figure out why a five-foot ball of rage is levitating in a louis vuitton boutique?"

before you can formulate any semblance of a response, a smooth voice cuts in, dripping with nonchalance, “now, now, chuuya, no need to take your frustration out on innocent bystanders.”

the ginger-haired man—chuuya, you think you heard—glare flickers with surprise as a tall man with messy brown hair sidles up next to him, his brown trench coat swaying with his lazy steps. you barely register him before he sweeps his hand out, pushing chuuya aside like a piece of furniture. “pardon my associate’s behavior. he’s always a little testy when his card gets declined.”

you blink. “huh…?”

the brown-haired man gives you a dazzling smile, the kind that should come with a warning label. “ahh but you…” he trails off, letting his dark eyes roam over your figure with a look of pure delight. “such a wonderful sight. how can such a radiant beauty even exist in this world?” his voice dips, smooth and syrupy, and you can practically hear the faint sound of violins playing in the background.

chuuya’s eye twitches as he scowls at dazai. “are you seriously doing this right now?”

dazai ignores him entirely, stepping closer to you. “osamu dazai, by the way. and you must be the goddess gracing us with your presence today. It’s an honor to bask in your light.” he flashes you a grin, the kind that looks practiced but somehow genuine, and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or call security.

“i—uh—” you stammer, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the situation.

before you can utter another word out, the white-haired man—saturo, you assume, based on the way the other man addressed him—suddenly whips around, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose just enough to reveal his gorgeous icy blue eyes, narrowing his gaze on you.

his entire demeanour shifts in an instant, going from casual smugness to absolute starstruck fanboy in 0.5 seconds. “wait… wait a damn minute—” his eyes widen, and he practically leaps forward, shoving dazai to the side like an afterthought. “you… you’re—no way, it's you! you’re my favourite movie star!”

dazai, now comically stumbling from the shove, frowns, “hey, i was talking first!”

saturo doesn’t even hear him, his attention laser-focused on you as he runs a hand through his white hair, grinning like an excited puppy. “holy shit, i’ve seen all your movies! you’re incredible! i mean, not just pretty—you’re talented too! that last film? chef’s kiss. truly. pure brilliance.”

you stare at him flabbergasted by the sudden barrage of praise. “uh… thanks?”

saturo claps his hands together and then turns to dazai with a smug smirk. “sorry, what were you saying? something about basking in her light?”

dazai, ever the smooth operator, recovers quickly, “wait a minute…” he muses, leaning slightly closer to saturo, “you know, your voice is kind of… nice.” he cocks his head as if discovering a new piece of an intriguing puzzle. “almost like i’ve heard it somewhere before… perhaps in a mirror?”

saturo's eyebrows shoot up, a look of surprise briefly crossing his face before his smug grin returns again. “well, well, aren’t you observant?” he says, hands casually stuffed into his pockets as he looks dazai up and down. “i guess i should compliment your taste then—great minds and great voices think alike.” he chuckles, and you can almost feel the mutual smugness radiating off the two men.

chuuya, who has been silently simmering through the whole exchange, finally explodes. “are ya both fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls, fists clenching at both his sides. “first, i’ve gotta deal with him”—he jabs a finger toward dazai—“and now this jackass too?” his foot taps impatiently on the boutique's polished floor, like he's ready to fight both of them.

“chuuya tsk.. tsk you're just upset because your little card got declined.” he shakes his head chuckling, “i didn’t know the economy would reject you specifically. but you know, you could always start a gofundme or maybe, uh i don’t know, pawn that fancy hat of yours?” he smirks playfully. “i hear they pay well for vintage."

saturo chuckles, clearly enjoying their little banter chaos. “hey, i like this guy! he’s got jokes.” he leans over toward dazai. “you sure we didn’t cross paths before?” then, turning his attention back to you with a teasing glint, he adds, “don’t worry, sweetheart—i’m still your best bet if you’re looking for a hero.” his eyes glimmer with flirtatious arrogance, as if he’s already planned your honeymoon by now.

chuuya throws his hands up in exasperation, shooting dazai an accusatory glare. “this isn’t funny, dazai! how the hell are we even supposed to survive in this weird-ass world when my damn card doesn’t work? not to mention that this is your fault for bringing us to this ridiculous place!”

the bandaged man sighs briefly, slipping into a serious look, “you're right. but I guess it's time to become a street performer. i mean, with your size, you’d make an adorable little tap dancer. might even make some decent pocket change.”

“you son of a—”

“enough!” the hot black-haired guy, who had been silently observing, steps forward, placing a firm hand on chuuya’s shoulder again. “we’re in public. can we try to act like civilized people for five minutes?”

chuuya grumbles, his fists still clenched, but the black-haired guy’s firm grip on his shoulder seems to anchor him enough to stop an all-out brawl. he glares between the two idiots in front of him—dazai still grinning like a smug bastard and saturo, who looks like he’s already planning his next punchline.

saturo straightens, his grin shifting slightly. “ugh suguru..don’t be such a killjoy.” he gestures lazily at dazai, “i was just making a new friend.”

chuuya scoffs. “friends? yeah, right. who the hell are you guys anyway?”

“just… tell them your name already. this isn’t a fight club.” suguru rolls his eyes.

saturo shrugs, turning his attention back to you and flashing that million-watt grin. “well, since suguru insists.” he dramatically puts a hand to his chest as if introducing himself for the first time. “i’m gojo satoru. the strongest sorcerer and uh apparently,”—he glances at dazai with a smirk—“your newest competitor for this sweetheart's attention.”

you sigh, clearly having enough of this shitty situation that feels like the setup for a sitcom episode. the ginger looks more frustrated by the minute, and the sight of him glaring daggers at the so-called companions makes you feel slightly bad for him.

“alright, chuuya,” you say, pulling him toward the cashier, ignoring the stunned look on his face. you feel suguru follow, maintaining a calming presence beside you. the cashier looks just as frazzled as chuuya, but you’re determined to end this nightmare once and for all.

“wait, what are you doing?” chuuya protests, glancing back at you with wide eyes. “you don’t have to—”

“It’s fine, really. it happens all the time,” you insist, shooting him a reassuring smile as you pull out your own card. “this is on me. plus you can pay me back in another way, though.”

dazai, overhearing this, perks up like a dog hearing a treat bag crinkle. he sidles over with that ever-present smirk on his face, leaning closer to you. “oh, you accept other ways? you naughty naughtyyy tsk!”

you roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm slightly, and ignore him completely. instead, you focus on the cashier, who looks thoroughly confused but also relieved to see the drama coming to a close. “just run this through, please.”

chuuya crosses his arms, clearly still disgruntled but unable to resist the tide of your determination. suguru shoots him a look that seems to say, “just go with it,” and chuuya huffs, lips pressing into a thin line.

as the cashier processes the transaction, you turn back to huuya. “it's fine, I really get it—everyone has rough days. uh how about you let me help you out a bit? i actually have a project coming up that could use two male leads.”

“it’s a vampire movie,” you explain with a grin spreading across your face as you watch chuuya’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “and honestly, you two fit the aesthetic perfectly. everyone i’ve auditioned so far has been terrible. i could really use your looks and… personalities,” you point toward the redhead and the hot black-haired man.

chuuya raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features. “a vampire movie? seriously?”

“actually, I think you’d be perfect for the role. your features and that hair of yours are perfect for it.” suguro chuckles, nudging chuuya slightly.

you watch as chuuya’s expression softens, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. for the first time, he chuckles, rolling his eyes at suguro. “you wouldn’t believe it, but I’ve had to dress up like one just to save that idiot dazai’s neck.”

suguro chuckles back, shaking his head. “guess it’s time to redeem yourself.”

chuuya huffs but a small smile betrays him. “fine, i’ll consider it. but only if you promise i don’t have to wear any ridiculous costumes.”

“i can’t make any promises,” you say with a teasing grin.

suguro smiles, leaning against the counter. “i’ll accept the offer, too.”

you beam, feeling a wave of relief wash over you finally. “great! i’ll send you both the details later.”

“ugh, why is this so hard?” you can’t help but chuckle at his struggle, it’s not like you're defusing a bomb here—just rehearsing a kiss for a scene.

“chuuya, it’s just a kiss. how hard can it be?” you tease, raising an eyebrow, watching him pace back and forth through the rehearsal room like a caged tiger.

“just a kiss? have you seen your face?” he gestures wildly, and you swear you can see steam rising from his ears. “you make it look way too easy!”

you giggle glancing up as you hear a faint creak from the door only to see geto strolling in and casually leaning against the door frame. you can tell that he just got out of the shower as he holds a towel drying his luxurious black hair. you part your lips trying to take a deep breath as you see his damp hair clinging to his neck in a way that’s... well, distracting, and you're not above admitting that. but as he shakes the water from his hair, your mind drifts back—against your will, mind you—to that moment from a week ago.

technically, it was a regular day. nothing special. just you trying on a costume in one of those annoyingly small fitting rooms. and of course, it had to be the tightest, most ill-fitting costume known to mankind. the zipper might as well have been laughing at your misery as you wrestled with it, stuck halfway like it had a personal problem against you.

after what felt like an hour of struggle, you finally managed to peel the outfit off your body like some weird victory over fabric. and that’s when geto decided to make his grand entrance.

“oh, uh... wrong room,” he said and in that split second, you swore your heart had leaped out of your chest, seeing his eyes go wide, flicking down clearly taking in the delicate lace set you had on and oh, the way he stares makes your cheeks flush hotter than the sun on a july afternoon.

you are friends. just friends. well, maybe more than friends. the three of you are getting along—maybe a little too perfectly, if you are being honest. it is in the small things like how geto always have a lighter handy for you and chuuya, even though he doesn't smoke. you have no idea why, but somehow he’d always flick it open when you reach for a cigarette. that, combined with the lingering glances and casual touches that seems far too intimate to be strictly platonic, says something about where things are heading.

chuuya, on the other hand, is... well, he is oblivious. not that you mind it. he is just so focused on the roles you are rehearsing together that he hasn't picked up on the fact that you’ve been flirting with him for a while now. hell, geto had caught on, but chuuya? the poor guy needs it spelled out. you are going to have to make your moves more obvious—or, in chuuya’s case, maybe drastic.

and if you think back to certain moments—like that night when chuuya got himself absolutely plastered. that redhead brat went from zero to blackout drunk in record time, and of course, it fell on you to drag his sorry ass home. you just couldn't see him stumbling out of a bar, half-laughing, half-cursing, completely out of it and do nothing. to be fair, this all came after his impulsive bank robbery—yeah, you heard that right. a bank robbery. apparently, after the whole boutique incident, chuuya decided he was tired of being broke.

so there you were, guiding this drunken menace through the streets, and contemplating how you could spring him from the charges he was facing. he was barely coherent, mumbling something about the "best wine ever" and how the stars were "calling his name." romantic, right? wrong.

by the time you finally got him inside, chuuya, in all his sottish wisdom, decided clothes were optional. without a word—no hesitation, no second thoughts—he started stripping. pants off, dress shirt shirt flung across the room, and he was about to lose the rest when you jumped in.

“whoa, okay, let’s maybe not do that right now?” you managed to say, trying your best to avert your gaze but also wondering why the hell the universe had put you in this situation. because, let’s be honest, as much as you didn't want to stop him... you really, really should.

and you did stop him, somehow managing to wrestle him back into some kind of decency before he could make things even more harder for you. needless to say, he was so out of it, that he passed out immediately after—half clothed, thank god.

and you thank heavens that he doesn't remember a damn thing the next morning about his one-man strip show.

you blink as the sound of geto’s teasing voice yanking you from your thoughts.

“what’s going on in here? i could hear chuuya’s desperation from down the hall.”

chuuya glares at him. “shut it, geto. we’re just—”

“rehearsing a kiss,” you finish, unable to resist the urge to jump in.

“exactly,” chuuya huffs, crossing his arms defensively and pouting—god he's so adorable. “just a stupid kiss.”

geto smiles softly and steps further into the rehearsal room, “well, it can’t be that bad. show me what you’ve got.”

chuuya rolls his eyes, obviously being tested by geto’s teasing and you can see him mentally gearing up, “alright, but don’t laugh if I mess it up.”

you try to flash him an encouraging smile to ease him a little bit. “just breathe. it’s literally just a kiss.”

he nods stepping closer, you notice his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. he gets within a breath’s distance and suddenly seems frozen, his confidence evaporating as he stumbles over his own thoughts. “uh... so...”

you can't help but chuckle softly, leaning in a little closer to coax him. “come on, chuuya. just focus on my lips. you can do this.”

geto—who had been watching from the side with a knowing smile—decided to step in. “you know, it might help to ease the tension. let me give you a few pointers.

chuuya blinked, caught off guard but quickly nodded. “yeah, sure. anything to make it look… believable.”

without uttering a response, he strides over and gently cupping your sweet pink cheeks, leaning in to press his soft lips against yours, and oh god, it’s perfect. the world fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you and the warmth of his lips. you let out a soft gasp as he slips his tongue between your puffy lips, tilting his head for better acess making your heart race as your mind wonders if you’ve just been seduced in a rehearsal. honestly you’re taken aback by how natural it feels, how perfectly his lips fit against yours.

geto loses himself completely in the kiss, his fingers brushing through your hair as if he’s trying to pull you closer, as the kiss deepens a low hum escapes his wet lips. you feel a rush of pleasure floods through your entire body, and just when you think it can’t get better, he pulls away, slightly breathless and blinking as he locks gaze with your lips for a bit before averting his gaze to chuuya.

well as for chuuya, the ginger stands there, wide-eyed, his lips slightly parted as if he hasn’t fully processed what just happened. “uh… was the tongue really necessary?” he stammers, cheeks flushed an adorable shade of crimson.

geto chuckles, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “now you try.”

chuuya blinks again, still looking all flustered but still wants to get it right. he turns to you, hand sliding to your waist in a way that is awkward but endearing.

“fine… i got this.” his voice is hushed as his take your lower lip between his pink ones, trying to mimic what geto had done. it was just a kiss—chaste, careful, like he was still holding back. but then something clicked within you, the ginger's eyes snaps open before growling into your mouth as you slip your tongue into into his before twirling the two pink muscles together. you glide your delicate fingers through his messy strands, pulling him closer for a few seconds before he pulls back, breathing heavily.

“okay, that was… not acting right?” he says, his brows furrowing as he tries to catch his breath. “is that how it’s supposed to feel?”

geto sighs loudly, shaking his head in exasperation. “chuuya, how didn’t you notice? it’s been going on for a few months already. didn’t you realise it? because if you really want us to… you know...���

“ugh, thank you!!! finally someone who can read my hints,” you exclaim, shooting geto a grateful look.

chuuya blinks a few times, his brows knitting together as he processes what’s just been said. “wait, hold on,” he splutter, looking back and forth between you and geto. “are you both... serious?”

“god, i’m such an idiot. i thought we were just—” he pauses

“just friends?” you finish for him, giving him a playful nudge. “come on, chuuya. i thought i was dropping some pretty big hints.”

the redhead runs a hand through his messy hair, looking both at you and geto. “ so..uh..you really want us to fuck you?” he mutters, lips forming into a slow grin.. “like...both of us?”

“uh, yeah?” you say, biting your lip to suppress a smile watching chuuya and geto exchange glances more like a silent understanding seems to pass between them, and before you know it, geto strides over and lifts you off the ground effortlessly.

“wait, wait, wait!” you squeal, laughter bubbling up as you squirm in his grip. “what are you doing?”

“just a little detour to somewhere more private.” he says, glancing back at chuuya, who raises his eyebrows with a sick lustful grin plastered on his face.

“seriously, you guys, i can walk!” you protest, but the thrill of being swept off your feet makes it hard to sound convincing.

“good, ‘cause we'll make sure you won’t be walking straight for days.” chuuya says as he opens the trailer door, stepping inside with geto following suit.

the sound of a zipper being pulled down is the last thing you hear before you’re instantly pressed between the two men, their eager hands working quickly to strip you bare. the fabric falls away easily revealing more of your skin to their hungry eyes.

“damn,” chuuya breathes seeing your skin pebble once they hit the cold air. “you’re even prettier than i imagined.”

your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back on geto's shoulder and you relax for just a second before you feel chuuya's mouth encircled your nipple, his jot tongue swirling around your areola tasting your sweet skin as he groans softly against it.

“hngh—chuuya…” you whimper fingers tightening in his messy hair.

he releases your nipple with a slick pop, then brings his large palms to knead your pillowy breasts. as geto lifts you slightly, guiding your hips down to press against his hard cock. you open your eyes to glance down, breath hitching at the sight of him resting between your slick folds. you can't help but let out a soft gasp seeing how massive he is, tip coated with pre-cum and veins popping and soaked by your essence. you let out a soft moan as he peppers your neck with hot, wet kisses, goosebumps rise across the plains of your skin.

chuuya leans down easing you into geto's embrace and spreading your plushy thighs wider.

“look at her pussy—fuck s’pretty..” chuuya drawls as he spits on your swollen clit drawing lazy cut shapes on it, the warm fluid drooling between your puffy folds.

he then plunges his spit-slicked fingers past the swell of your plump lips, coaxing you to get even wetter for them as geto's large, gritty hands grip your ass, pulling you back and forth on his throbbing, leaky, fat cock.

“such a good slut, sucking my fingers so well,” your cunt clenches eagerly sucking on chuuya's long fingers, once he's truly satisfied, he pulls out of your cunt before smearing your juices all across your folds.

geto grips his cock in his palm, the leaky tip smearing your juices as he positions himself between your chubby cheeks. you never tried anal before and you never expected yourself to gasp that loud feeling the rush of spit pools against the pad of your tongue from him stretching your hole so perfectly. you cry out in surprise before chuuya swiftly plunges his tongue into your mouth swallowing your lewd noises.

“ffuck, i’ve been waiting for this, babe.” you hear geto's soft moans against the shell of your ear from behind, “... thinking of you in those lacy little things... mngh, you have no idea how many nights i couldn’t sleep, wanting to feel you... s’warm and tight around me.” he grips your juicy ass cheeks tighter, thrusting you down against him, as if he can’t wait any longer.

“ready for me doll?” chuuya breathes against your lips.

“yes ahh please chuu—mngh” you try to respond, but your words dissolve into a moan as you feel him slowly push inside your heated core. you had expected him to be gentle—just not this gentle. he languidly slides deeper and deeper, his head dropping forward to rest against your soft breasts, growling as he buries himself inside you.

you dig your nails into chuuya’s shoulders, forming delicate marks on his pale skin as you use him for leverage to push yourself back onto geto's cock. each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, making you shudder as chuuya fills you completely.

“god, you feel s’ fuckin’ good, doll,”

your moans get higher and higher mingling with their grunts and growling, chuuya finds himself thrusting faster than usual, his cock is pulsing from watching you nastily taking him and his friend's cock so perfectly.

“y-you okay doll?” chuuya breathes, his voice laced with awe as he watches your eyes roll back into your skull.

“ffuhmk—yes please more,” you cry feeling geto's pace starting to match chuuya's fast and hard ones, your body tenses up, pleasured from all angles, both with their girthy huge cocks filling you up to the brim, your vision blurs seeing through haze chuuya's eyes roll back, his fiery strands sticking to his face and neck, red hue blossoming under his skin and rapidly spreading to his chest.

“jesus f-fucking christ, you're so hot.” geto breathes against your skin tilting your head so that he can bite down your bottom lip gently before drawing circles with your tongues making the pair of you an even greater mess, both his hands reach up to cup your pillowy breasts squeezing them as they jiggle between the palm of his hands, “mmngh—sugu~ahh” the two of you moaning in unison.

before you can catch your breath, chuuya grabs your cheeks with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. his lips crash against yours with a bruising intensity in a sloppy kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth as his fingers roughly toy with your clit, drawing sharp, almost painful pleasure from the sensitive nub. “you gonna cum for us, mngh? gonna be a good slut and cum?” he growls, cupid's bows wet from your searing kisses as his fingers cut circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

the world around you blurs as you're finally pushed over the edge with the repeated brush of their cocks against your spongy spots—a blinding white light floods your vision, static crackling in your ears. chuuya watches in awe, like he's witnessing a miracle, as you cum, your body convulsing with pleasure. at the same time, geto spills inside you, his warm release filling your womb to the brim. the intensity makes you feel like you might pass out, a scream ripping from your throat as the knot in your lower belly unravels with chuuya's twitching cock inside you as he too rocks inside you multiple times riding out his sweet release with force that makes your body shake as he paints your walls with his hot shooting cum filling you up perfectly. you three reach your peak together, perfectly in sync.

the world gradually comes back into focus, as you three try to calm down from your release. geto is the first to pull out, and as he does, you feel his cum slowly drip from your body. chuuya follows, watching in awe your ruined holes leaking with their seeds as your legs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure.

chuuya chuckles breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his brow, and gently rubs a hand over your thigh. “i’ll get the bath ready for ya doll,” he murmurs, voice still rough from the intensity of his orgasm, before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

you nod, watching his bare form head to the bathroom as geto leans in close, pressing gentle, reassuring kisses to your lips while his strong hands tenderly massage your trembling legs. “relax, baby” he whispers between kisses, his lips still deliciously sloppy, “you did so well. let me take care of you.” he strokes your skin soothingly, bringing you down from the high as you try to catch your breath.

you give geto a tired but grateful smile, your chest still heaving, “t-thank you, sugu,” you murmur softly, watching his lips curl into a satisfied grin, and he continues to massage your legs, his fingers easing away the lingering tension.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @whiteelovex @dottedhalfnotes @victoria1676 @ghostedwriting @a-trashbag @bakedpotato12 @ambervanth @sakui1 @iams0up @osamucide @lighthoonie @chuuyascumsock

[atlasdoe]

THE HOGWARTS CLASS OF 1978 - pt 20

JAMES POTTER

Name - James Potter

Blood status - Purebloood

Date of birth - 27th March 1960

House - Gryffindor

Academic achievements - Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Quidditch captain, Headboy

He was killed by Voldemort trying to protect his wife and son after they were betrayed by their secret keeper

Cannon

Both of his parents were elderly even by wizarding standards

Having been conceived so late in his parents lives, he was raised in a doting household with little material limits and pampered a great deal. Hence, it was no surprise that he's grew to be proud. arrogant and boastful but deep down still a good person

At some point during his school years, James took a photo of Hogwarts Castle at sunset and gave it to Remus

At the age of sixteen James' parents allowed Sirius to move in with them so he could escape his family

Both of James' parents attended his and Lilys wedding

In around 1977 he and Sirius were involved in a motorbike chase with two Muggle policemen. Although the chase started off as a bit of fun, it turned more serious when the pair were attacked by three men on broomsticks

He and Lily defied Voldemort three time

At some point between 1979 and 1980 James' parents died of Dragon Pox and he inherited the cast Potter family fortune from them which enabled him to comfortably support his family without the need for a paying job

James also used his wealth to support a Remus who was en employed due to his status as a werewolf

Headcanons

Pansexual

Growing up, whenever his parents had to go to work or out with their friends they would drop them off at the ice cream shop where Florean Fortescue would watch him for the day as he also took care of Alice. Barty Crouch Jrs parents also did the same

Usually, when they were really young theyd only just sit in a booth together and colour and play hide and seek in the shop (which theyd always get in trouble for) and as they got older theyd be allowed to go around Diagon Alley but only if they stuck together and would stick to the village only. (And theyd have like everyone there keeping an eye on them because Alices father is well known and liked so nobody would let anything bad happen to them anyways.)

* Alice goes to Hogwarts first and when she comes back she is telling stories upon stories about school to the point where James and Barty would tease her about always talking about Hogwarts and nothing else.

* James goes next and gets sorted into Gryffindor along with Alice. While at Hogwarts Alice watched James like a hawk for his first few weeks, she really was the older sister he never had and she was so excited to share Hogwarts with him. She gave him a tour and told him everything about everyone and wanted to know all of his thoughts

* When Barty joined he was sorted into Slytherin and made it his mission to get James and Alice to leave him alone. He wanted to fit in and he had no trouble in doing so. He made sure that he acted his worse around James and Alice and no matter how hard they tried they weren't getting him to change

* Alice gave up on Barty before James did

* James became friends with Dorcas Meadows when they were in their fourth year during a game of seven minuets in heaven

* James had wanted to befriend Dorcas for a while, mostly because she was Remus’ step sister and James thought they would get on most

* Dorcas was hesitant to be his friend at first because of not only the history and common knowledge f James hating all Slytherins but just because she didnt think they would be good friends, but she did accepted his hand of friendship

* That night they came up with three ruled for their friendship also 1) No house slander off of the Quidditch pitch 2) No telling on each other to Remus and 3) Only say "I love you" if its for a dramatic goodbye

* Since that day James and Dorcas began to build a bond. One that went further than house colours and rivalry. From the friendly nods that they gave each other in the corridor to the countless times that Slughorn now had to call them out for talking too much. Something had sparked between the two that only grew into a friendship that neither of them could ever deny

While Lily and James were in hiding James got a letter from Dorcas which she sighed off with "I love you" James knew what it meant but couldn't do anything since he was in hiding

He was a little bit pissed off that he didn't make Prefect in his year since he thought he had it in the bag. He started working more in his academics after that and improved so much that he became Head Boy

While Quidditch captain he chose who was on the team based on his friends. He told everyone that every position was up for grabs but there was no universe where he wasn't having Sirius, Alice, Frank and Mary on the team

Everyone was his friend but he was not everyone's friend. There was only a few people who James truly cared about

Those people were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Alice Fortescue, and Frank Longbottom

His first crush was Patricia Rakepick who was in her fifth year when his was in his first

He secretly dated Regulus Black during his fifth year and Regulus' fourth. The only people who knew was Sirius, Alice and Pandora Ollivander. James and Regulus had an agreement that James could tell Sirius if Regulus could tell Pandora. Alice found out about them after walking in on them kissing

Regulus started ignoring James after Sirius ran away because he was mad at James for letting Sirius stay with him. James attempted to get Regulus to talk to him but gave up completely when rumors that Regulus had joined the Death Eaters started going around the school

He and Lily got together during the summer before their seventh year

When James and Lily got married they went all out. They had a wedding weekend in the country side and has a massive reception that everyone they knew was invited to

[skst8497]

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[trulybetty]

new years eve

pairing: dieter bravo x bryony morgan (ofc) word count: 4,565 warnings: nothing major, some angst, smoking & alcohol mentions summary: five new years firsts for Dieter & Bryony and one last New Year's ao3: linked

x. chiffon masterlist

The First New Year's Eve.

Bryony hadn't planned much for New Year's Eve. It was all very much Bridget Jones—sat wallowing under a blanket, a tub of ice cream and the threat of belting out 'All By Myself'. Even the weather outside seemed to mirror her mood. London was cold, damp, and certainly uninviting. She’d already scrolled through Instagram as friends and work colleagues posted pictures of glamorous parties and cozy family affairs.

She nursed her glass of wine as she stared out the window at the Thames, watching the city gather to prepare for the midnight fireworks. Bryony poked at the melting remains of her ice cream; she'd lost her appetite for it ages ago. She had in fact been invited to several parties, but with the way work had been amping up, and more talks of work out in LA, she was too tired to entertain anything. Plus, with Gina in New York now, her brother Rhys up north and her parents choosing to do a tropical New Year's that year—it was just her.

She hadn't heard from Dieter all day. Their relationship—or whatever this thing was between them—had been defined by late-night calls and text messages all the while balancing time zones and erratic schedules. She knew he was in New York, likely at some swanky do thrown by the theatre crowd, the kind she always teased him about. She'd told herself repeatedly it didn't matter if he called or not, but the hollow ache in her chest was very much disagreeing with her.

While pouring herself another glass of white wine and debating on pulling out the bag of prawn cocktail crisps at the back of her kitchen cupboard, there was a knock on her door. No one ever dropped by unannounced, she took a gulp of her wine—especially not on New Year's Eve.

Shuffling to the door in her slippers, she opened it, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Dieter?"

He stood there, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his hair as always messy, and his leather jacket unzipped over a wrinkled sweater. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder, and in his hand, he clutched a bottle of cheap champagne.

"I got lost on the Underground," he confessed, as if he were apologizing for being late on an expected invitation. "It's a fucking maze down there."

Bryony stared at him wide-eyed, "What… what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't let another year start without kissing you," he admitted, his grin sheepish as his eyes sparkled with an energy that defied the tiredness that surrounded them, "and before you yell at me for being ridiculous," he pointed a finger at her, her mouth open on the cusp of a question, "yes, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and yes the flight was stupidly expensive, but I'm here."

She laughed, tears prickling her eyes, "You're insane, you know that right?"

"I know," he dropped his bag and the champagne, stepping closer to her, "but I really, wanted to do this."

Bryony's heart stuttered as Dieter took her face in his hands, his thumb grazing her lip. The countdown began on the TV behind her: Ten, nine, eight…

His lips hovered above hers, Bryony up on her tiptoes, she could feel his breath mingle with hers and she wanted to devour him there and then, but the moment called for savouring. Bryony felt like she was on the precipice of something special, something exciting and something bigger than the two of them.

"Love you, Daff," he whispered, just before their lips met, her arms tangling around his neck as the world outside erupted in cheers and fireworks.

The First New Year's Eve in LA.

The Hollywood Hills were a sight to behold on their own. The glittering city stretched out below as far as Bryony could see. The party, hosted by some rising Hollywood director Dieter had recently befriended, was the definition of excess. It was their first New Year's together in Los Angeles, their first since they had taken a leap on taking chances on their careers in Hollywood, and one another, officially moving in together over the summer.

The sprawling mansion was packed to the brim with celebrities, hangers-on, and the kind of people who hovered in that liminal space between fame and infamy. Bryony had spent most of the night nursing a flute of champagne, trying to take it all in. London, she had thought, had its own kind of excess, but this, this was something else altogether. And Dieter? Dieter on the other hand was in his element, floating effortlessly between groups, charming the room in a way that only Dieter could.

"You look bored, Daff," he murmured, leaning down so only she could hear him.

She raised an eyebrow, "I've lost count of how many pitches I've heard tonight," she took a sip of her drink, "Does anyone around here actually know how to have a conversation?"

Dieter smirked, his fingers brushing her bare arm before he plucked her drink from her hand and drained it completely, "I've got an idea. Follow me."

Before she could protest, he’d grabbed her hand, leading her through the crowd with the kind of casual confidence only Dieter Bravo could pull off. They weaved past a lavishly decorated living room, down a back staircase, and through a heavy wood door that opened up to an expansive wine cellar.

The space was dimly lit, with rows upon rows of bottles stretching along the walls. The air was cool and the scent of oak and earth lingered. Bryony gave Dieter an amused look as he shut the door behind them.

“Dieter,” she said, her fingers running the bottles in front of her, “if you brought me down here to show some vintage plonk, I have to say, I’m impressed with your dedication to seduction,” she teased.

He grinned, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between them, “I could tell you all about the wine Daff, but I think we both know that’s not why I brought you down here.”

Bryony tilted her head, the New Year’s tiara she wore twinkling under the subdued lighting, as she pretended to study the bottles and their labels, “Oh? I don’t know. That 2016 Chablis looks pretty tempting.”

Dieter’s hand skimmed her waist, she was wearing the little black dress she saved for special occasions, the one she’d been wearing the first night they’d met and still managed to make him lustful.

“You know what’s more tempting?” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, relishing the hitch of her breath.

She turned to face him fully, her hands pressing against his chest, a challenging glint in her eye, “What’s that, Mr. Bravo?”

“You,” he said simply, the single syllable hanging in the air, his voice low and rough, “Always you.”

Bryony felt her pulse quicken as she looked up at him, her fingers curling into the silk of his shirt. For all his bravado and charm, there was an honesty in his words that had a way of undoing her completely. He dipped his head lower, his nose brushing against hers as he pulled her closer. She could smell the faint trace of his cologne and a hint of the champagne on his tongue.

The faint hum of the party upstairs suddenly shifted into a crescendo as the countdown began.

“Ten…nine…”

Dieter’s hand slid up Bryony’s thigh, lifting the hem of her dress with it.

“Eight…seven…”

Bryony’s heart began to race as his fingers skimmed the top of her hip.

“Six…five…”

Dieter cocked his head to the side giving Bryony an amused look at finding bare skin.

“Better make it good Bravo,” she murmured, her voice barely audible above the growing cheers from above.

“Four…three…”

“I always do, Morgan.”

“Two…one…”

His lips crashed into hers as the room above erupted into cheers, clinking glasses and the muffled notes of “Auld Lang Syne” from the keys of the grand piano upstairs played faintly through the floorboards. Bryony clung to him, her fingers tangled in his hair as he gripped her hips, pulling her flush against his body. The kiss was fervent, unrestrained and the anticipation of the start of a new year and of new adventures.

He broke the kiss only to rest his forehead against hers, his breath coming in shallow bursts. “Happy New Year, love,” he brushed aside a stray strand of hair and straightened the New Year's tiara that sat slightly askew on her head.

“Happy New Year, cariad,” she whispered, her voice soft and laden with emotions she didn’t know if she could put into words. But knew that this man could easily be her undoing.

The First New Year's Eve After the Breakup.

Bryony hadn't wanted to stay home—even if it didn't feel like home yet. The small Sherman Oaks house she'd bought in the blur of time that passed after leaving Dieter still felt sterile, hollow, and unsettlingly quiet. Every room was accented by half-opened and unpacked boxes she had no desire to deal with. The only things on display were Sonny and Cher, Dieter's beloved taxidermy raccoons, which she'd taken out of spite when she'd left, but now it just felt like they were mocking her.

Her parents had invited her home to Wales, promising to make things normal again, and Rhys had offered to put her up in London — but she hadn't wanted to face any of them, face their sympathy, nor get into what had actually transpired between her and Dieter.

So, instead, she'd taken Cricket up on her offer to crash a New Year's party in West Hollywood with a group of designers she barely knew, aside from the fact that they were friends of Crickets. But as much as Cricket's presence comforted her, Bryony felt like she was carrying a black cloud above her head. As much as she was trying to be present, she felt distant, causing people to give her a wide berth.

People smiled politely, but there was always a flicker of recognition in their eyes. They knew who she was—or more precisely, who she'd been with. She'd picked up on snippets of conversations around her until someone whispered too loudly about Dieter Bravo and his latest scandal splashed across Page Six.

Bryony had escaped to the kitchen, her stomach churning as the gossip flitted around the house. Another night, another headline. Dieter Bravo, larger than life and perpetually self-destructive. He hadn't slowed down since she'd left, only ramped up. He'd been doing something he shouldn't with someone he certainly shouldn't have been doing it with, and the news had made her stomach turn sour.

"There you are!" Cricket exclaimed, her voice cutting through her haze. She appeared in the doorway, a tequila bottle in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. Her lipstick was slightly smudged, and her curls—which she was embracing after chemically straightening them for decades, were wild from dancing.

Bryony managed a smile, her first real one of the night she'd hazard a guess. She wasn't sure how she would've made it through the past few months without Cricket.

"C'mon," Cricket said, having finished pouring out shots, she pulled Bryony into a tight side hug and nudged a glass into her hand. "It's almost midnight. Let's toast to us leaving this dumpster fire of a year behind us!"

Bryony didn't argue. The two of them shot back the tequila straight as the countdown began, voices echoing through the house. Cricket pulled her in tight again, kissing her affectionately on the top of her head as the house erupted in cheers, holding her in a silent affirmation that everything would be okay. Even if Bryony didn't quite believe it yet.

The First New Year’s With a Sober Realization.

The night was cold for LA, and Dieter’s home was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional crack of fireworks somewhere in the distance—someone was getting an early start on the celebrations. Dieter sat slumped on the uncomfortable leather sofa that he probably paid someone an obscene amount of money to tell him how his home should look, though forgoing any level of comfort.

A glass of gin balanced precariously in his hand, the bottle sat on the coffee table, already half-empty. His phone glowed beside him, the faint light irritated him as it illuminated a phone devoid of any notifications or alerts.

He’d tried calling Pierce, his manager, earlier in the evening, a last-ditch attempt at some semblance of normalcy, but the conversation had been short and brutal. After years of managing Dieter’s chaos, Pierce had finally drawn a line in the sand.

“Dieter, I can’t do this anymore,” he’d said, his tone firm but exhausted. “I’m your manager, not your babysitter. You want to ruin yourself? Fine. But I’m not holding your hand while you do it.”

The sting of Pierce’s words had lingered, not the first time Pierce had put him in his place in the twenty-odd years the two had known one another—but it was the first time he’d told him no.

He was alone, not even the usual hangers-on to the tiny amount of fame his name brought could bring him company tonight. The party invitations had dried up over the past year, his antics finally wearing thin even amongst some of the most shameless in Hollywood. Those who were supposed to be friends had moved on to the next bright and shiny thing, leaving Dieter to stew in his own chaos.

He tilted his head back, letting the gin slide down his throat, the sharpness a burn he relished as his eyes settled on the corner of a photo frame atop his mantelpiece. It was cluttered with relics of a life he barely remembered choosing—awards from films that once mattered, framed magazine covers where his smirk had sold a million copies, littered amongst piles of papers, unopened mail and empty liquor bottles.

He didn’t have to get up to know what picture was in the frame, it was committed to memory. It was from years ago—a candid shot taken at some forgotten celebration at Rhys, Bryony’s older brother’s, apartment in London. Dieter, Rhys and Bryony stood together, arms slung around each other in a moment of unbridled joy.

Dieter cracked his jaw, it had been a while since he’d spoken to Rhys—the two had a bond that had outlasted most of Dieter’s friendships. But even that connection had been strained over the last couple of years. He picked up his phone, his thumb hovered over his contacts. He scrolled through until he hit Rhys’ name—it was impulsive, but then when wasn’t Dieter’s brand as of late?

The line rang three times before Rhys picked it up, “Oi! Bravo! Christ mate, haven’t heard from you in a fucking age! What’s happening man, you bored in your Hollywood palace or something?” Rhys’ familiar Welsh accent was punctuated by cheers in the background as he shouted to be heard above the crowd.

Dieter let out a short, dry laugh as he took a sip of his gin, “Something like that.”

There was some shuffling on the line as Rhys spoke to someone else, “So let me guess then Bravo, you calling to boast about some bombshell you’ve got set up for the night?” Rhys laughed to himself, “A little New Year’s fling? Come on, spill it.”

“Nothing this year,” Dieter replied dryly, “just me.”

Rhys barked a laugh, the sound crackling through the speaker like static. “Jesus Dee, that’s bleak, mate. You’re in bloody Los Angeles. You telling me you can’t throw a stone without hitting a Hollywood Hills party?”

Dieter shrugged even though Rhys couldn’t see it. “Not really feeling the Hollywood types these days.” He took another sip of the gin, the burn sharp on his throat making him sit up. “What about you?” he asked, wanting a change in topic, “Sounds like quite the rager on your hands over there.”

Rhys shouted something unintelligible to someone in the background, then returned to the phone. “Living my best life on the East Coast Brav,” he laughed, the sound of clinking glasses in the background. “In New York for an intercontinental piss-up. With some mates and Bryony and her—” Rhys trailed off, evident that he had let slip something he shouldn’t have.

Dieter froze mid-sip. The glass trembled slightly in his hand. There was no mistaking what was missing in the silence. “She’s seeing someone?” he coughed out, trying to sound indifferent but failing miserably.

There was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by Rhys cursing under his breath, before Rhys’ tone shifted, “Look, mate… I probably shouldn’t have said something,” Dieter heard the sharp intake of breath even over the cheers and the booming music. “Deets, we both know this is not a conversation for now—or ever—that you should be having with me. Whatever is going on with Bryony, well that’s her business. I’m saying this as your mate, right? You’re my boy, always have been. But you’re stuck. Stuck in this self-pitying, self-destructive loop. And honestly? It’s getting old. You can’t keep clinging to things that aren’t there anymore.” His voice softened, almost pitying. “It’s New Year’s, yeah? Maybe it’s time you started thinking about what kind of life you really want for yourself.”

The words hit Dieter like a punch, sharper and harder than anything Pierce or anyone else had ever said to him. “I wasn’t—” He stopped, admitting to himself that anything he said would be nothing but an excuse. “Pretty profound for you, isn’t it?”

Rhys laughed, the lightness returning to his voice. “I know, mate. Don’t know where the fuck that came from. Must be the champagne.” Dieter could hear someone calling Rhys in the background, “Look, I need to go… Happy New Year, Dee, speak soon?”

“Yeah, Happy New Year Rhys,” Dieter managed to stumble out before the line clicked.

Dieter was about to throw the phone down, but before he did impulsiveness hit again. Quickly shuffling screens he opened Instagram, his fingers under muscle memory found Bryony’s profile with ease. He scrolled through her photos, thumb hovering over each one. At her parents’ in Wales at Christmas, fairy lights glowing in the background and the family’s dog in her arms. A photo of her at some posh rooftop event in London, champagne in hand. And then, there it was—a group photo taken recently in New York. She stood on the far left, her smile soft and glowing, wearing a sleek black dress that hugged her in all the right places. Beside her, the guy. Suit and tie, clean-cut, the complete opposite of everything Dieter was.

Dieter lit a cigarette, the tip glowing orange in the dim light. He took a drag, studying the photo like he was looking for something. His thumb hovered over the call button on her profile for a moment before he hesitated. Instead, he tapped her contact in his favourites, the one he’d stubbornly never deleted.

The line rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

Dieter’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he waited for it to connect.

“The number you have dialled is not available. Please try again.”

The automated message hit him like a punch to the gut. He stared at the screen, his thumb still hovering over the call button as if willing it to connect as he tried the number again, and then again a third time.

She’d changed her number.

Dieter let out a bitter laugh, dropping his phone onto the table with a clatter. For the first time in years, he felt something crack. He stared at the cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling, and muttered to himself, “Happy fucking New Year.”

The First New Year's Eve With Baby Fi.

"She's so tiny," Dieter whispered, his voice filled with the awe that had not wavered since the arrival of Baby Fi less than two weeks ago.

Bryony gave a tired smile, leaning her head against his shoulder, "She's perfect," she yawned.

She hadn't been expected until January 24th, the date circled in bold red Sharpie on the calendar that hung in the kitchen. Dieter had been elated by this news at their first appointment with the OB-GYN. The idea of Baby Bravo possibly sharing a birthday with Fiona the hippo felt like fate, he’d declared, prompting Bryony to roll her eyes. But Baby Bravo had other plans—much like her father, bypassing all etiquette and social norms to arrive five days before Christmas, throwing all of their plans out the window.

The hospital room was a far cry from some of the glamorous parties they had once attended, yet it had become their refuge as Bryony recovered and Baby Fi observed. Dieter had spent his time darting from Bryony’s room to the NICU, his usually chaotic energy subdued by the weight of their new reality.

The good news had been delivered that afternoon. They would be going home the day after New Year’s with both Bryony and Fi doing well. With that promise, a special overnight guest had joined them in the room they now called home. It was cozy, lit by the string lights the nurses had chosen to ignore, alongside the decorations Dieter had brought from home—including a tiny artificial tree that offered a gentle, festive glow.

Dieter pulled Bryony tighter against his side, pressing a kiss to her temple as he brushed back her hair. He hadn’t realized his adoration for the woman—who had given him more chances than he deserved—could grow even deeper, but now his heart burst with a joy he once thought out of reach.

Bryony held Fi in her arms, her tiny form swaddled in layers of blankets with tiny stitched hippos. Dieter watched as Bryony ran a gentle finger over their daughter’s cheek—both of them had agreed that they couldn’t believe there had ever been a time before she had entered their world.

Quiet cheers drifted in from the nurses’ station, where they raised plastic champagne glasses filled with sparkling cider, enjoying the spread of treats Dieter had asked Pierce to arrange, all in thanks for their care.

As the cheers continued to drift through, Dieter turned to Bryony, his eyes shining. “Happy New Year, Daff.”

The Last New Year's Eve…

The night hadn’t gone exactly to plan, but then again, in the Bravo household, when had things ever played out as planned?

The house was quiet, except for the faint hum of white noise over the baby monitor out in the living room. The light above the stove cast a warm glow over the kitchen in tandem with the lights on the large artificial tree that bridged the transition from the kitchen to the family room in the open-plan space. Both illuminated Bryony as she swayed barefoot on the hardwood floor, holding Fi against her hip. The sequined and feather-laden dress she hadn’t yet had the chance to change out of caught the light with every movement, casting tiny flecks of glitter across the room like stars.

Fi was wide awake, her small hand clutching the neckline of Bryony’s dress. Her cheeks were still flushed from the fever that had pulled them home early from the New Year’s party Bryony’s parents, visiting for Fi’s first birthday, had practically pushed them out the door to attend saying they had everything covered while caring for their granddaughter.

But with just under an hour to midnight, the call had come. Fi was restless, her little body too warm to the touch, and before either of them could finish their drinks, they were in an Uber home through the maze of LA’s uncharacteristically quiet streets.

Fi’s eyes were bright as she followed her mother’s every movement, eliciting tired giggles from her lips when Bryony would twirl them both to a song Bryony sang under her breath.

From the arched entrance to the kitchen, Dieter stood silently, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, an almost disbelieving smile on his face. He hadn’t made a sound since coming in from checking the thermostat in Fi’s room and making sure Bryony’s parents were settled; he was too captivated by the sight before him. His wife, radiant even in her exhaustion, her hair loose and wild from the night’s chaos, barefoot and glowing as she danced with their daughter in the glow of the Christmas lights.

He wasn’t sure if it was the haze of the small glass of champagne he’d allowed himself earlier or just the sheer weight of the moment, but his chest ached in a way that made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

As Bryony twirled again, she caught sight of Dieter out of the corner of her eye, his shirt half untucked and unbuttoned—he’d lost the bowtie before they’d even arrived at Pierce’s party. “I think I’m going to have to tap you in soon to help me tire her out before she tires me out,” she laughed, as Fi whipped her head around in glee at the presence of her father.

Dieter stepped forward, the soft soles of his shoes barely making a sound on the floor. “You two look like something out of a dream,” his voice was low, almost reverent.

Bryony rolled her eyes, though the faint flush on her cheeks betrayed her, “I’m barefoot in a dress I’m bursting out of, holding a feverish baby—dreams don’t usually come with teething-induced meltdowns.”

Dieter stopped just in front of her, his smile deepening as he carefully took Fi into his arms. “I don’t know,” he pressed a kiss to the top of Fi’s head before shifting his gaze back to Bryony, “this feels pretty dreamy to me.” His dark eyes were full of a warmth that still had the ability to make her catch her breath as he reached out with his free hand and tucked a stray lock of her dark hair behind her ear.

Bryony shook her head, “Careful, you’re laying it on thick tonight, Mr. Bravo. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to get lucky.”

“Who’s to say I’m not?” Dieter quipped, his grin mischievous as he adjusted Fi in one arm, her tiny hands patting his face. “Though, considering the last time we got lucky…” he drifted off.

Bryony huffed a laugh, “And look what that ended us up with.”

Somewhere, the clock turned midnight and fireworks from the Hollywood Hills could be heard in the distance.

Dieter’s hand moved to Bryony’s stomach, his thumb brushing over the fabric of her dress where it clung slightly tighter than it had the last time he’d seen her in it. His grin widened as he glanced down, then back at her, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, “Well, if this is the result,” he dropped a kiss to the top of her head, “I’d say we did pretty damn well Daff, wouldn’t you?” He pulled her closer, his touch gentle but firm, a man fully aware of the treasure he held. “Happy New Year’s babe.”

[abellinthecupboard]

The House on the Hill

In the blatant silence, I hear it: snow landing silently as assassins on the lawn, a family of mice fretting in the attic. Articles of the woman who used to live here still hang together in closets, arms swaying against arms, pastel blouses beside stained trousers, woolen nightgowns, Lycra stockings with runs; uniforms of the elderly. The musty time capsules of lotion bottles, night cream, wrinkle cream, half empty, dried up on the vanity. In every drawer are amulets for Mary and letters to Jesus, her longtime pen pal who would finally answer. In the corner, a plastic commode, her diapers, the mothballs, antiseptics and gauze. This is how the pious live: in careful measures. Six eyes of the last three Popes stare out from cracked frames, having watched over this house for ages. I pillage the cupboards, try on her shoes, blow away dust several lifetimes in the making. To the night, I am anonymous, a little crawler like the lady beetles crowded together in window sills. Another shell of life, greedy for heat. I feel, in this house, like defying nature, staying upright while the gold moon grows bone white over the treeline, ears trained to the preying of predators, real or imagined, the dark lives that move across every knoll, a forest of secrets whispered between drafty jambs, the house groaning in reply, as though beaten by gravity to submit: What are you if not occupied? There is a cadence to the way things fall, an orchestra of twigs, wind, joists of the body creaking. The cold dwellings of my hands find pockets to keep company in, visiting the rooms like a third-shift nurse, turning knobs, touching the mirrors. To the bowels of the house, I leave my coat, my name. In every closet, another life I can wear until my hair is white, albums of faces I will learn, borrow their pale expressions. The many pieces of me move slowly, settling into themselves like a barn on the horizon held together with nails and prayer.

—J. Greenberg, featured in Rust & Moth, winter 2024 issue (source)

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[thegoodfeel01]

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[aquietlifesblog]

Ravening Wolves (Dio x F!Reader) 1/?

"When it's all over," he breathes, "when I stand supreme, and am no longer a slave to fate... I shall show you heaven..." OR At long last, the time has come to set your grand scheme in motion: the elimination of Jotaro Kujo and Dio's glorious resurrection. The Age of Heaven is near, and you won't let the Joestars stop you—no matter how hard they fight. You've defied fate and death for Dio. Perhaps one day you'll tell him how you feel. A sequel to 'Hungry Eyes.'

Read on AO3 Note: This is the story of Dio's resurrection, be patient as we fight for his return.

First Chapter | Masterlist |

Chapter 1: Unwelcome Guests

Jotaro Kujo is no stranger to nightmares. Oftentimes he jolts awake, heart pounding, his body drenched in a sheen of cold sweat. He’ll look up and see Star Platinum beside him, ready to battle threats unseen.

Some days he’ll dream of fighting, of dire clashes and battlefields where Stands collide with unyielding intensity. But it’s Dio who looms in the shadows of his darkest nightmares.

“The life you live is but a mere Illusion.” Dio's chilling laughter would pierce through the air, its icy tendrils crawling down Jotaro's spine.  “You're living on borrowed time, Jotaro; You’ll never be safe from me.” No matter how valiantly Jotaro fights, Dio remains. Like a phantom, who refuses to be vanquished, he’ll always return another night.

“Good grief.” He doesn’t allow himself to stew in the moment, not as Shizuka's cry pierces through the wall. Jotaro's brow furrows in concern. ‘Something must have spooked her,’ he thinks; the baby's been sleeping through the night for weeks.

For a moment, he imagines his grandfather, Joseph, cradling the little girl in his weary arms. 

And though his muscles protest, he pushes himself to action.

Guided by the silver moon that filters through the silver windows, Jotaro swipes the spare room key from the fancy gilded table by the bed. He’s more than happy to help Joseph soothe the crying baby, just as he did for Jolyne in the past.

So he opens the door with a yawn, squinting slightly as he enters the hall. All at once his vision is filled with the warm amber light and upscale furnishing of Morioh Grand Hotel. The plush white carpets are lined with cream-colored vases, and oil paintings decorate the walls. The whole floor smells faintly of artificial lemons and Charmy Green soap.

There are no other guests on the third floor, the Speedwagon Foundation saw to that,  but from the corner of his eye, he sees a woman dressed in red waiting near the entrance of the elevator. Is it a worker, he wonders, or someone who stepped off of the wrong floor? He makes a mental note of her presence, before padding across the carpet, his slippered feet carrying to the room adjacent to his own.

But just as he reaches for the door handle and slides the key into the gilded lock,  a thunderous force barrels down the hall.

The floor beneath him quakes and trembles as everything ahead is scraped away. There's no dust or debris, only a sudden disappearance that brought to mind Okuyasu Nijimura and his stand, The Hand. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Star Platinum obliterates the door and Jotaro dives inside, a split second away from disaster.

“Jotaro?” Joseph calls, and the two lock eyes. They share a bond forged through countless battles and a shared bloodline, a connection that transcends words. 

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Jotaro begins, his determined words rising above Shizuka’s hiccuping cries. “But we have another enemy Stand user on our hands. I don’t know if he’ll make it in time, but try to contact Jo-” 

The air thickens with the cloying scent of roses. The sweet aroma permeates the air. It wraps around them like a spectral mist, enveloping the three in an eerie atmosphere. For Jotaro and Joseph, and perhaps even Shizuka as well, the scent heightens their sense of danger, placing them further on edge. 

They are no longer alone. 

“You managed to survive, I see. How unfortunate," Your voice carries an odd infliction, a mix of humor and frustration that teases Joseph’s memory.  "I instructed him not to lose his composure upon encountering you, alas, he never listens. It’s almost as though he doesn’t respect me…” The shadows bend and bow in reverence, unfurling as you gracefully emerge from within.

You smile, but there’s an apex predator lurking beneath that beautiful facade. 

“You must be Jotaro Kujo; while I can’t say it's a pleasure, I’ve always wondered about you.” 

Jotaro’s eyes narrow, and Star Platinum stands ready at his side, ready for the imminent fight. 

"Enough with the fake pleasantries. Who the hell are you, what do you want?" Jotaro's voice cuts through the tension, direct and uncompromising as ever.

“My, my, did no one teach you manners? I suppose the best of Jonathan’s traits never quite made it down to you, hm?” 

A flicker of amusement dances in your gaze, but your attention soon drifts to Joseph. Though his face is marked by the passage of time, his eyes are as bright and as keen as ever. He regards you with a cautious familiarity. 

“Jonathan?” Joseph’s brows furrow. 

"What are you talking about? How do you know that name?" Jotaro interjects, shielding his grandfather from view.

But just as he does so, Cream appears like a nightmare given life. Its gaping mouth opens, revealing the furious, unhinged gaze of Vanilla Ice. His sinister intentions hang heavy in the air.

“Jotaro Kujo,” Ice growls with a low, menacing voice, “I will never forgive what you did to Lord Dio! I, Vanilla Ice, will scatter you through my dimension of darkness. There will be nothing left!” 

In a blur of motion, he slides back into the mouth of his Stand, and Cream’s power surges, barreling forward like a raging tempest. But then everything halts to a stop around Jotaro, granting him a precious few seconds of clarity. Everything dulls and he immediately comprehends the true nature of the threat before him. 

Vanilla Ice, Dio's strongest servant and a woman he doesn't know. His mind reaches back, searching for information that might give a name to your face but there is none. Though he does remember a woman being mentioned in that diary he found one of the two individuals he regarded as his friend. 

“Good grief,” he sighs. “Just when we think this town is safe.” 

Stepping away from the wall, Jotaro's eyes lock onto your frozen form, caught mid-stride, heading toward his grandfather and the baby. Determined to intercept your advance, he moves forward, both to block you and dodge Vanilla Ice. 

When time resumes, your body is forcefully thrown off balance as Star Platinum strikes you with a flurry of blows. Despite understanding the power of Time Stop, you’re taken by surprise and you crash against the wall with an unforgiving thud. A large painting of the Morioh shoreline shakes in its ornate frame,  threatening to collapse upon the floor. 

Jotaro hums, but behind him is where the true terror lies: The thick oak coffee table and soft cushioned chairs become victim to Cream's insatiable appetite. As it moves, the void of nothing scrapes away the hideous green carpet, leaving a massive crater on the floor. It barrels forward, crashing into the wall where Jotaro stood before Top Stop, leaving nothing but a massive hole behind. 

The large painting of the shoreline collapses then, and the heavy wooden frame breaks upon your body on the floor. The wood and splinters scatter and the wide canvas manages to obscure you, at least party, as the edges meet the wall at a perfect angle. 

"Get out of here, old man! Take Shizuka and run!" Jotaro's urgent voice slices through the air, commanding his grandfather to use the Joestar family’s secret technique.

Within moments, the room transforms into a battlefield of chaos.

Jotaro desperately fends off the unrelenting assault to ensure his grandfather's safety. But any relief he feels shatters once he sees that you are gone, that you've crawled out from beneath the painting of the ocean and vanished from the spot where you'd been thrown.

He thinks about following behind you, that any 'friend' of Dio is the highest priority threat, but Vanilla Ice swiftly closes the distance between them, taking half a potted plant in his wake and the attack barely misses. He can't abandon this fight. 

“Polnareff told me about you and that hideous stand of yours.” He begins, matching Ice’s glare when he peeks out from the void. “I don’t know how you managed to survive, but if you want to be with your precious Dio, I’ll send you to hell where you belong!”

Joseph carries Shizuka down the hall, moving at a speed that defies his age. But Shizuka's fear and stress reach a crescendo, and things begin to vanish before their very eyes.

“Oh no!” Joseph attempts to soothe her. 

He needs to find a phone, he needs to contact Josuke. 

But his swift progression halts abruptly when you appear beside him, emerging from a swirling cloud of mist. 

“You’re quite spry for an old man, Joseph.” You set your gaze upon him, your burning glare filled with disdain. You’ve heard tales of the infamous Joseph Joestar, the grandson Erina loved so dearly. 

"So it's as I thought. You weren't after Jotaro at all," he confirms, cradling the baby protectively, pressing her tiny body against his chest despite his invisible hands. "We've never met, so why don't you tell me who you are, little lady.” 

"I suppose I can't be surprised; my existence has always been a blemish on the family name," you laugh, a dark sound that reveals your true intentions. "Did your 'Granny Erina' truly never mention me? I suppose she was too ashamed. Or perhaps she forgot in her old age. I suppose without her maids, my little sister was quite useless, wasn't she?"

"Sister?" Joseph's suspicion solidifies into certainty.  Erina never spoke of you directly, but he recalls seeing something—a sort of family tree scrawled across the first page of an old leather bible she kept near the side of her bed. It contained all the familiar names, the familiar history up until Holly. But there was something else there, something he never entirely understood until this moment.

What he presumed to be your name.

There wasn’t much room on the page but his grandmother had written it no doubt. In the jumbled margins, there was a line that connected you as sisters. It was easy to overlook, the page was crowded with so much history, but Erina found a way to make you known.

So, much to your surprise, Joseph Joestar utters your name. 

“You’re a vampire, aren’t you? And if you are, you must have been a vampire for over 100 years! Tell me, how many humans have you devoured in all that time?” 

Joseph raises his hand and the purple vines of his Stand, Hermit Purple manifest, crackling with the power of Hamon, the power of the sun.

'A 100-year-old vampire come to haunt his family?' The gears of his mind begin turning, 'How could this happen twice? Such a thing couldn’t be a mere coincidence: She has to be connected to Dio and the Stone Masks in some way,' he thinks.  

"You can't possibly expect me to keep track of such details, Joseph. Why, don't you tell me how many loaves of bread you've eaten in your life?" You tilt your chin arrogantly, looking down upon him, your fangs catching the light as you speak.

Family or not, he cannot let evil have its way. So, in a swift motion, Joseph directs Hermit Purple towards you, its tendrils surging with the power of his Hamon. But you disperse your body into a chilling mist, evading the initial attack.

Nevertheless, Joseph remains resolute, fueled by righteous anger and the unwavering determination that flows through his veins.  But even as he wraps his and Shizuka’s body in Hamon, he’s no match for you; he doesn’t know the power of your Stand. 

So, as you reform a short distance behind him, Déjà Vu appears at your side: a tall feminine figure, adorned with glowing red hearts and scant golden armor that melds to her flesh at the most strategic points. Her eyes remain unseen beneath her ornamental helmet, crowned by a beautiful metronome. Four tubes attach her helmet to the belt that she wears, each connected to packs marked by golden letters reading C M Y K. 

Like you, your Stand remains unchanging, untouched by the flow of time.

Déjà Vu places her fingers on her lips and kisses them sweetly. A small golden heart forms between her lips and her hand and she hurls it at Joseph. It barrels forward with such force that it impacts his skull like a laser beam. Though you stood at a distance outside your most effective range, the weight of age has slowed him down, making him vulnerable to such an assault.

So, within a blink of an eye, a glowing heart emerges on the back of Joseph's head, pulsating with an ethereal light.

In response, a torrent of memories bursts forth, taking the form of photo strips that fly out from his head with the swiftness (and sounds) of a high-speed printer. 

His gaze remains fixed upward, his eyes wide. Like everyone else you’ve used your Stand’s ability on, he seems overwhelmed by the flood of memories spiraling around him. He can't move or even speak. 

"Tell me, Joseph; tell me all about the Red Stone of Aja..." you urge, your voice carrying a tone of gentle curiosity. Extracting specific memories sometimes requires a skillful interrogation. 

For you, it was a familiar process. With your servants, it was a matter of unraveling their troubles or helping them re-live some grand experience they had in the past. But some memories necessitated deeper probing. They would need a little push. 

However, the mere mention of the stone brought forward a certain strip of memories, a vivid recollection of Joseph’s bizarre youth. 

“Perfect; it seems as though we’ve had a breakthrough.” 

Yet, just as Déjà Vu reaches out to grasp a memory, the vines of Joseph's Stand manifest once more, weaving through the strips as if to safeguard his memories from prying eyes. Crackling with the potent power of Hamon, the vines pose an insurmountable barrier to you. 

"What manner of trickery is this?" you narrow your eyes, your suspicion brewing. "...Even with your addled mind, you remain clever, don't you."

A memory of your own resurfaces then—an echo of Dio’s stand. Like Hermit Purple, it was a telepathic entity, one capable of divining information. Could it be that Joseph's Hermit Purple possessed the ability to prevent his mind from being read? 

“Can you hear me, Joseph? Let’s delve deeper: Show me the Red Stone,” you implore, your voice tinged with frustration. 

In the background, the floor quakes with violence. Vanilla Ice, still sheltered within the safety of Cream's void, zigzags down the hallway, crashing through doors as if disoriented, perhaps having lost track of Jotaro somehow.

He could be anywhere.

A group of security personnel rush unto the scene, only to be met with tragic, gruesome ends. Cream eats through their bodies, leaving a bloodied mess of scattered limbs and half a torso behind. You pay it no mind.

The path to resurrecting Dio is now within reach, and you are willing to pay any price to obtain it. A fire ignites within your gaze, a reflection of your unwavering resolve.

At that moment, you recall something Dio once asked you, the day he offered you the poison that ended Lady Pendleton’s life.

'I take it you’re prepared to be bold, then?’ 

You were.

"I won't let your stand hinder me any longer, Joseph," you declare with certainty. "You will give me the information I seek!"

A surge of power courses through your veins as you channel the might of your Stand. With a swift motion, she extends her arm and firmly grips the memory. And at that moment, the power of the sun surges within you: your bones crack, the Hamon spreads throughout your arm like a spider's web, and blood sprays from the wound. It splatters across your skin and the painting on the walls. You grunt, clenching your teeth against the searing pain that threatens to destroy you. 

But then, without hesitation, you do something bold. You grip the ball of your shoulder tightly, a place where the Hamon has yet to reach, and, with resolute determination, you tear your arm free from your own body.

The sickening sound of flesh tearing reverberates in the hall. But you can still feel the energy surging from within the discarded arm. Its abandonment safeguarded your existence and it alone burns away.

‘No matter,’ you think. ‘I’ll find a new one.’ 

The baby continues to cry and the lamp behind Joseph, now stained with your blood, disappears from sight. 

“Now, let’s take a journey down memory lane, nephew; just you and me…” Blood pours from your empty socket, seeping into the fabric of your attire and staining the hotel carpet red. 

Your Stand activates her most powerful ability, the power to pull you into a world of memories. The world around you fades away, and you venture into Joseph's memories. 

As you do, the echoes of Dio's question linger in your mind, fueling your resolve.

'I am prepared to be bold,' you think to yourself, resolute amidst the silence of the mindscape. 'And I shall stop at nothing to attain my ultimate objective.'

You find yourself in a grand sitting room, adorned with elegant furnishings, echoes of a bygone era. The deep, earthy scent of polished wood and lavender candles assaults your senses as you take note of the world around you: Deep burgundy rugs, hardwood floors, and massive arched windows curtained by green velvet drapes.

You know this room; you've been taken to the Pendleton Estate.

Your eyes are drawn to Joseph then, transformed into a broad-shouldered man in his late twenties. He laughs, engaging in conversation with his grandmother, Erina. You stare.

Time etched gentle lines upon her face, tracing the map of a life well-lived, yet her eyes retained their luminosity.

"I'll handle things here, Joseph. You go ahead," Erina tells him, her voice laced with assurance as she shoos him away. Joseph chuckles as he places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

With a final farewell, Joseph excuses himself downstairs, leaving Erina alone with a baby, Holly, swaddled in a bassinet near the window. 

A surge of frustration bubbles within you. Did Joseph manage to deceive you somehow? Redirect your search to a false destination. No. That isn’t possible. You've never faltered in selecting the right memory, and the ultimate ability of your Stand ensured that even in the face of adversity, you would not be led astray. So for a moment, you stand there, shrouded in the shadows of secrecy. Because something in this room, whether it held the stone or not, evoked its memory. Something here would lead you down the right path. 

 So you direct your attention to Erina, the woman who raised such an impudent brat. 

Without your intervention, events unfold exactly as they should. Her attention shifts toward a shelf. Amongst it sits her wedding portrait, a service photograph of her son, George II, and one of Joseph’s family. She selects one, and her delicate fingers trace the contours of the frame, a wistful smile on her face. 

The sight stirs a mix of emotions within you a swirling maelstrom of hatred and envy.

Stepping forward, your presence materializes, and you become a solid part of the world you created from Joseph's memory. Your form casts an icy silhouette against the warm radiance of the room and the atmosphere grows taut.

“Enjoying the fruits of your lineage, are we?” 

Your words sliced through the silence, resonating with venomous intensity. 

Erina's head snaps around, and the burden of regret draws itself across her aged features. 

“It’s you…” Her voice rasps with age. “You've returned, I never thought I'd see you again...and after all these years...You're a vampire, aren't you? Just like Dio…”

Blood pools from the place where your arm used to be, and Erina stares at it in shock. The wound is closing, but not quickly enough for you. 

“Your arm-” 

"Save your sympathy," you scoff, your voice still dripping with venom. “I’m not here for a reunion.” 

“I see that hasn’t changed either.” Her sorrowful gaze follows your movement, her heart is heavy with the weight of a fractured sisterhood and the fear of the darkness that consumes you.

You scoff, the sound harsh and filled with disdain.

"You're right, Erina. I haven't changed. How could I when your lineage has done nothing but haunt me all these years? Look at what they’ve done to me—what I’ve been reduced to. You and your descendants, living in blissful ignorance while I suffer alone, discarded like a piece of trash."

Memories of your servitude, your abandonment, and misfortune flash before your eyes. The anger within you intensifies, consuming your rationality.

“My descendants? Did Joseph do this to you?” Her confusion is evident, but you have no intention to offer an explanation. Because the pain, frustration, and anger you feel have risen to a level beyond your understanding. Is it your injury, or the fact that you’re yet again faced with a reminder of your tragic past? 

“Had I known the misery that cursed womb of yours would bring me, I would have killed you that night.” 

Erina's eyes widen in shock and sorrow as your words strike a chord deep within her. The weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, and the room fills with a suffocating tension. 

But then the world around you trembles, the boundaries of the past crumbling as the present encroaches. Time is running out, and you know that Jotaro is drawing nearer to your body in the base world. 

“I see then. I always hoped that you would find a way to live in peace with the rest of the world. Perhaps, if you ever reunited, you could have the life with Dio you always wanted…I still have that hope for you, elder sister. Even if you’ve given up. Dio is-” 

“I know where Dio is,” you interrupt her. “I suppose I do have you to thank for it; you’ll be the reason we unite again. It’s the only useful thing you’ve ever done for me.” 

Taking a step forward, her voice raises in alarm, but you swiftly silence her by slamming your palm against her mouth. You curl your fingers inward, sinking them into her paling flesh before she can even scream.

“Jo-” 

“I should have killed you, the real you, not some decrepit old woman dredged up from some old bastard's memories." You scoff, but beneath the disdain, a question emerges, something you've always wondered about but never cared enough to explore.

“I don’t know what happens to these places when I leave the ‘world of memories’ my Stand creates. I can’t say for sure if they end or simply continue on as a parallel reality… perhaps I'm not even creating them at all. But I understand that anything that happens to me here is reflected upon my body in the base world, so it's real enough for this.” You drain the blood from Erina and her heart slows, her ragged breaths ease, and her once-clear blue eyes gloss over as her struggles slow to a stop. “I thought I could forgive you, that I wouldn’t hold a grudge... but your precious family took away the most important person in the world to me. So I’ll destroy everything you’ve ever loved. In this world, in the base world, and in all realities I come across. The Joestar Bloodline you propagated will end. Mark my words.”

You drop her body on the floor, the dried husk of what she used to be. Your gaze fixates on the gray hair that spills from her scarf, and the jewel that sits at its center. It reflects in the soft lamp light, shining a brilliant cerulean hue, matching the color of her eyes. Erina always had a fondness for jewelry.

You wonder then, if the Stone is at the old Pendleton Estate, or if Joseph buried it with his beloved grandmother. Something about this memory triggers a connection to the Stone, so that must be the case. 

Just as you begin to ponder, the door flies open, and Joseph rushes inside. He must have heard the body drop. His eyes meet yours, then widen in shock and horror as they land on the body of his grandmother lying lifeless at your feet.

“No!” He yells, his voice full of sorrow and rage. “You bitch! What have you done to Granny Erina!?” He charges forward and his fist comes alive with the power of the sun. You notice something around him then; it’s very faint but it’s certainly there: Hermit Purple, wrapped around Joseph, crackling with the same power.

But you will yourself back into reality, back to the base world, allowing the cries of the child in the bassinet to merge with the cries of the baby in the elder Joseph’s arms. 

The world snaps back together, and once again, you find yourself in the hall of Morioh Grand Hotel, the soft scent of lemons and soap intermingling with your own scent of roses and the metallic tang of the blood on the floor.  Time flows differently in the memory world, so little time went by here.

The sound of approaching footsteps fills the air. 

“I see." Understanding dawns on you then, just as Star Platinum's fist barrels toward your Stand. But your recent meal sharpens your senses, heightening your awareness. Just as he believes he lands a hit, you disperse your form into a mist, reforming a short distance away. That distance is enough to end the effect of your stand on Joseph, but that becomes inconsequential.

You have the information that you need.

“I must thank you, Joseph. Your trickery granted me just the advantage I needed!" A sinister grin draws itself across your features. Jotaro checks on his grandfather's well-being, and once satisfied, he uses time stop to close the distance between your bodies. But his two-second maximum isn't enough to bridge the gap entirely. Star Platinum launches a flurry of blows, but Déjà Vu holds up her arm in defense. It hurts, but yours is a durable stand, one with a body as resilient as your own. Your broken bones heal and, despite lacking Jotaro's fighting prowess, you refuse to back down. 

Blocking, dispersing, and clashing, your battle becomes a dance of stopping time and careful movements, gradually guiding him back toward where you suspect Vanilla Ice to be. Your healing powers have increased almost tenfold. Was it because you consumed blood so closely related to your own?

Star Platinum's aggressive cries mix together with Déjà Vu’s as they clash across the hallway of the Hotel. Doors are blown down, furniture is thrown, vases are shattered and paintings are knocked off the wall. The battle couldn't have lasted long, but your frustration begins to spike. You do what you want to stay out of his range, but so far back you can't paralyze him with your memory kiss. Star Platinum dodges the hearts with ease. For that to work you'd need to be closer, and you'd be at a greater disadvantage. 

In response to your feelings, your vampiric power brings a chill to the air, coating the hall with frost and ice.

'Where’s Vanilla Ice?' You wonder. 'What did Jotaro do to him?'

Unbeknownst to you, the frost becomes the perfect conduit for Joseph's Hamon. He channels the crackling energy through the trail of frost, transforming it into the water, which flows directly back to you.

You hiss, your eyes bulging like a wild animal the moment you sense it— the power of the sun.

But just before it strikes, a strong arm curls around your body.

The world blurs and darkness engulfs your senses and for a moment there’s nothing, nothing but the cold, primordial darkness of a void.

Something moves beside you but you struggle to adjust to the absence of light.  “Did you find the stone?" Vanilla Ice's voice echoes, and that's when you come to realize—you've been pulled into the mouth of his Stand. 

| Next Chapter

[yuuniee]

“As long as there is love, hope and patience, I don’t think there is nothing that can be achieved!.. Except for defying the dorm leader’s orders...”

Name: Eris Lovelock

Japanese: エリス・ラブロック (erisu raburokku)

Dorm: Heartslabyul 🌹

Birthday: 14th February (Aquarius)

Age: 17

Height: 171 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: Kingdom of Roses

Family: Unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed aunt

Voiced by: Masatomo Nakazawa

Nicknames/Aliases: Monsieur Lovegiver (Rook), Angelfish (Floyd), Sir Cotton Candy (Charlotte)

Grade: Sophomore

Class: 2-B (No. 14)

Club: Movie Appreciation Club

Best Subject: Alchemy

Hobby: Writing love poems on the internet

Favorite Food: Parfait

Least Favorite Food: Coffee

Pet Peeves: Being picked on

Talent: Making bracelets out of ribbons

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Appearence: Eris is a young man with fair skin, cream colored curly hair that’s dyed pink at the ends and the long part of his bang is braided. He has pink doe eyes and long eyelashes. He also has a pair of white wings and the feathers at the edge of it are pastel pink.

In his school uniform, he wears a white shirt with black and white striped tie and an oversized pink cardigan on top of it, a black pair of pants with a gold stripe on each side, a pair of red sneakers and a pair of white gloves.

In his dorm uniform, he wears the standard Heartslabyul dorm uniform with red vest and the card on his jacket is six of hearts.

Personality: At first, he can be seen as a timid individual. But as one gets to know him better, he shows a kind, caring and childish, yet vulnerable side. He also displays a mischievous side at different times. (E.g: When Ace and Deuce got sea anemones on their head, he is the one to tease them for it. He doesn’t get mad them though!)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Unique Magic: “Heartbeat Song”

His Unique Magic allows him to create glass arrows to shoot people to make them feel emotions! Sadness, joy, fear, disgust, anger... All of them and more are on the table. As long as he doesn’t overuse it, he will be alright. Otherwise he ends up passing out.

(x)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Fun Facts:

Eris can fly higher than the others can with their brooms when he uses his wings. However, Vargas doesn’t allow him to use his wings because of that.

He has a soothing voice and can sing someone to sleep.

At first, he was in Royal Sword Academy like Sinha and Vivienne. But then an incident happened and he ended up getting transferred to Night Raven College. Not that it scares him though! (It does-)

He often twirls his hair when he is flustered, which can be done easily.

He can actually see someone’s feelings when he looks into their eyes. Once he does so, he won’t have to look into their eyes again, as he will see them whenever they are in his sight.

He is at his busiest when Valentine’s Day arrives.

He has a private Magicam account to follow everyone to see what they are doing.

For some reason, he is very good at archery and his aim is very good. However, he dislikes it and sees it a bit troublesome.

When he sees anyone in trouble, he lends them a hand and helps them because he can’t bear to see anyone getting upset for being unable to do something.

He likes gummy bears.

He is actually a demigod, a descendant of god of love.

[kayrwt]

Anti-Aging Products

As we age, our skin naturally undergoes changes, losing elasticity, volume, and moisture. Wrinkles and fine lines start to form, and the youthful glow we once had fades away. But what if you could slow down this process and restore your skin to its former vibrancy? UpkeepSkin offers a range of high-quality anti-aging products that help combat these common signs of aging, providing effective, noticeable results.

The Power of Anti-Aging Skincare

Anti-aging products are designed to target specific concerns like wrinkles, sagging, and dullness. They work by improving the skin’s texture, boosting collagen production, and replenishing lost moisture. UpkeepSkin’s anti-aging line uses advanced ingredients to provide visible, long-lasting results without the need for invasive treatments.

With an emphasis on science-backed formulations, UpkeepSkin has created a series of products that address the underlying causes of aging, such as the loss of hydration, skin barrier function, and the natural breakdown of collagen. These products not only help diminish existing signs of aging but also work to prevent future damage.

Key Anti-Aging Products by UpkeepSkin

1. Age-Defying Serum

This potent serum is packed with ingredients like peptides, antioxidants, and hyaluronic acid to target fine lines and wrinkles. It deeply penetrates the skin, stimulating collagen production while providing intense hydration. The Age-Defying Serum leaves the skin feeling plump, firm, and smooth, with a noticeable reduction in the appearance of fine lines.

2. Firming Night Cream

Nighttime is when your skin does most of its regeneration, and UpkeepSkin’s Firming Night Cream works in sync with your skin’s natural processes. Enriched with retinol and vitamin E, this cream helps promote skin renewal and repair. The result? Firmer, smoother skin by morning, with a reduction in sagging and puffiness.

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The delicate skin around the eyes is often the first to show signs of aging, with dark circles, puffiness, and fine lines. UpkeepSkin’s Renewal Eye Cream is specially formulated to target these issues. With ingredients like caffeine and hyaluronic acid, it helps to reduce puffiness, brighten dark circles, and smooth out crow’s feet, leaving your eyes looking more youthful and refreshed.

4. Anti-Aging Face Mask

For an extra boost of rejuvenation, the Anti-Aging Face Mask by UpkeepSkin is a must-try. Packed with nourishing ingredients like vitamin C, aloe vera, and collagen-boosting peptides, this mask helps hydrate and tighten the skin. It provides an instant glow while working to repair and protect the skin from environmental stressors.

5. Collagen-Boosting Moisturizer

Moisturizing is a key part of any anti-aging skincare routine, and UpkeepSkin’s Collagen-Boosting Moisturizer is a powerful ally. Infused with collagen-stimulating ingredients, this moisturizer helps restore skin’s elasticity, leaving it feeling smooth and rejuvenated. It also provides long-lasting hydration, preventing dryness that can accentuate fine lines and wrinkles.

The Benefits of Using UpkeepSkin’s Anti-Aging Products

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4. Prevention and Protection

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For optimal results, consistency is key. Here’s a simple routine that you can follow using UpkeepSkin’s anti-aging products:

Morning:

Cleanse your face with a gentle cleanser to remove impurities.

Apply the Age-Defying Serum to target fine lines and wrinkles.

Moisturize with the Collagen-Boosting Moisturizer for hydration and elasticity.

Protect your skin with a sunscreen, especially if you’re heading outdoors.

Evening:

Cleanse your face thoroughly.

Use the Renewal Eye Cream to treat puffiness and dark circles.

Apply the Firming Night Cream to promote skin regeneration while you sleep.

Use the Anti-Aging Face Mask once or twice a week for a deep skin rejuvenation.

Final Thoughts

UpkeepSkin’s anti-aging products provide a simple and effective way to combat the signs of aging without resorting to invasive procedures. Whether you're looking to reduce wrinkles, restore lost volume, or simply maintain a youthful appearance, UpkeepSkin offers a solution that fits your needs. By incorporating their expertly crafted products into your daily routine, you can enjoy smoother, firmer, and more radiant skin at any age. Ready to start your anti-aging journey? UpkeepSkin is here to help you look and feel your best.

[niamhthefae]

"will you go out with me?"

I stared at the text for a few minutes,unsure of what to say back to him,my fingers typed out 'yes' only to swiftly delete the word. then 'maybe',only to once again delete it. my hands shook and I bit my lip whilst I tried to think. the words seemed to echo in my head

"say no."

"huh?" I asked,not taking my eyes off of my phone screen

"say no" the response surprised me with its simplicity. recently it had begun to spew paragraphs and paragraphs for every situation i needed it. what had begun as something to teach me manners had turned into the most useful thing id ever owned.

"I don't want to" it was the first time I'd argued with the rock. my shaking fingers steadied as I spoke still it repeated "say no"

'yes' my fingers typed. I took a deep breath and pressed the send button

three dots appeared. then went. then appeared again.

":D" I chuckled. all that worry and all he sent was a smiley face.

"you should have said no"

i turned to look at the rock,sat on my bedside table next to my lamp and book. "shut up" it needed to be done,but i was still worried. I'd never defied it before,and what it said was normally right.

the next day I met up with him at school

"hi!" we both said at the same time and laughed. we had english first,macbeth,then chemistry,where he proceeded to make multiple jokes about us,maths,technology and then I had art and he had geography. everything went great and I couldn't have been happier. the smile never left my face so it ached later. but i couldn't help it

yet still,when I got home "you should have said no"

that night I made a decision, I put the rock in a shoe box and hid it under my bed.

we were happy,for a while.

for our first date we went out for ice cream,for our second we went to his and made cookies and had a flower fight,for the third,my birthday, he took me to an art gallery/museum and got me a book I'd been asking for. for the fourth he taught me how to skateboard on his old one.

for the fith he didn't show up.

i sat there in the cafe,fiddling with a pot of sugar and occasionally checking the time.the girl at the counter,she looked the same age as me, gave me a sympathetic smile. she came over to me and pushed a chocolate cupcake on a white plate over to me."on the house. ive been where you are before".i ate it whilst i waited.

by eight o'clock,two hours after we decided we'd meet,he still wasn't there,so I picked up my bag and left.

that night I got home to see my mom, waiting for me. she looked worried.

i screamed.I cried and I screamed but it was no use. the sound of the long beep echoed in my head,our dates played like a movie in my mind. "should have said no" the rock was at home,in the box under my bed. this time it wasn't the rocks voice,it was my own.

i went home that night feeling numb.

"you should have said no" said the rock,now back on its place on my bedside table "you could have avoided this,given the pain to someone else"

"no." I once again replied. fresh tears rolled down my face. I didn't try to hold them back anymore

"if I'd said no I would've spent the rest of my life wondering what would've happened if I'd said yes. so no. I'm happy with my choice to finnaly take a chance and say yes"

if the rock could smile,it would've

"good"

You got a magic rock as a kid that was meant to teach you the “magic words” of please and thank you by reminding you whenever it’s appropriate. Now though it’s begun to recommend whole paragraphs whenever you’re in a sticky situation. The best part is following it’s advice always works out best.

[eyewrinklescream]

How Eye Wrinkles Cream Can Reduce Fine Lines and Crow’s Feet

I have a sensitive eye area and have broken out in rashes with several (more expensive) eye creams in the past. But this one is soothing and moisturising, even better, I felt no traces of sensitivity. I’ve used it for a few days, applying the thick cream liberally before bed and have found that my eye area feels more hydrated, thanks to the heavy formula click here.

While you’ll find peptides on the ingredients list, aloe vera loton is unlikely to magically zap away your wrinkles, but my first impressions are very positive. The amazing benefits of coffee contained in our newest and better packaging, fight dark circles, fine wrinkles, and under-eye puffiness. The Coffee Under Eye Cream is carefully formulated to focus on and address your under-eye difficulties by utilising the benefits of coffee, caffeine, white water lily, and vitamin E.

As we age, our skin undergoes various changes, and one of the most noticeable signs of aging is the appearance of eye wrinkles. These fine lines can make us look older and more tired than we feel. Fortunately, the beauty industry has responded with a plethora of products designed to combat this issue, including specialized eye wrinkles cream.

Retinol is a derivative of Vitamin A and helps to promote skin renewal and enhance collagen production working beneath the surface of the skin. By stimulating renewal processes in the skin, newer skin cells reach the surface faster helping reverse and prevent the signs of ageing while brightening and smoothing skin. We recommend using eye creams after cleansing, toning and applying serums and before moisturising as part of your AM and PM routine. Apply eye skincare in the morning and at night as part of your skincare routine. At night, use it as the last step in your skincare ritual. This Japanese pearl extract and golden silk essence balm from Clé de Peau leaves skin feeling moist and dewy for hours after application, making even the driest under-eyes supremely soft and supple.

This serum is highly concentrated in Q10 and prickly pear oil to help delay and reduce their appearance. If an eye cream promises too much, it may be a sign that the ingredients are highly concentrated. “Some products may claim unrealistic outcomes, such as complete wrinkle removal or dark circle elimination, which may not be feasible with over-the-counter solutions.

This period is indicated on the packaging of all our products (in the form of an open jar symbol with a number and the letter "M"). Daily eye wrinkles cream can be used in combination with all other Purdori face care products. All you typically need is a small amount of the eye cream. You want to use a finger (your ring finger works well) and gently pat the product around your eyes, avoiding pulling or tugging on your skin. You really have to look at the ingredient list and choose wisely. Some people choose cosmetic procedures to treat their wrinkles.

My Perfect Eyes contains the following hero ingredients to target the major signs of under-eye ageing. To instantly depuff, soothe and smooth the delicate eye area. For an age-defying product, try Clarins Precious Eye Cream, making the skin around the eye area appear younger. Because it’s tinted, this product is particularly effective on bare-face days, or if you prefer not to wear a lot of make-up. Helps promote the growth of healthy bacteria on the skin which helps improve the appearance of bright and radiant skin. Works as advertised but does not help puffiness or dark circles.

The Importance of Eye Care

The skin around the eyes is particularly delicate and thinner than the rest of the face, making it more susceptible to signs of aging. Factors such as sun exposure, lack of sleep, and environmental stressors can exacerbate the development of wrinkles. This is why investing in an effective eye wrinkles cream is essential for maintaining a youthful appearance.

Key Ingredients to Look For

They often include humectants to draw more moisture into the skin, but no occlusives and emollients, which have a sealing effect. Yes, the best eye serum for wrinkles has excellent moisturising and nourishing abilities that help get rid of fine lines and wrinkles. "I have sensitive skin, and this product did not irritate my eye area," explained another five-star reviewer. "It works. It moisturized around my eyes, and within a week, I noticed the brightening effects. The amount you get for the cost is the reason I will be repurchasing this again." For many people, eye creams may not do much — especially if you have hereditary bags or dark circles. You can try making small lifestyle changes, like reducing salt intake, but there’s no guarantee these methods will work.

When searching for an eye wrinkles cream, it's important to look for formulations that contain specific active ingredients known for their anti-aging properties. Some of these include:

Natural weighted unbleached Kraft paper, water activated starch based adhesiveDue to the simple nature of our ingredients and production process, slight variations in color, thickness, and texture are normal. Rest assured, each batch is tested for quality and efficacy to meet Frownies' standards prior to distribution. The Original Forehead Wrinkle Patches are designed to soften and smooth fine lines, wrinkles and static lines from expression. Meticulously crafted, our skincare products are designed to deliver not only exceptional results but also a delightful and exciting sensorial experience. Hyaluronic (pronounced hi-ah-lew-ron-ic) acid — also known as hyaluronan or hyaluronate — is a gooey, slippery substance that your body produces naturally.

Sophie Dodd is a PEOPLE contributor who has been writing for PEOPLE.com since 2018. She covers travel and lifestyle, with a focus on home goods and beauty products. She also received advice from New York-based dermatologist Dr. Nkem Ugonabo on the real benefits of eye creams for dark circles and what to look for when shopping for them. When trying to tackle dark circles, it’s crucial to seek out eye creams with active ingredients that will target your specific needs, whether you’re looking for a hydrating, firming, or radiance-boosting effect.

Retinol: A derivative of vitamin A that promotes cell turnover and helps reduce the appearance of fine lines.

Peptides: These amino acids help stimulate collagen production, improving skin elasticity and firmness.

Hyaluronic Acid: Known for its ability to retain moisture, this ingredient plumps the skin and reduces the visibility of wrinkles.

Antioxidants: Ingredients like vitamin C and E protect skin from free radicals while promoting healing and rejuvenation.

Testers said their under-eyes appeared smoother after use, with the majority seeing an improvement in wrinkles, crow's feet and dryness. One tester reported seeing a difference in wrinkles in just three weeks, while everyone was irritation-free. Our panel noticed fine lines became less prominent and dark circles vanished during the trial. The cream's ability to sink in quickly and smooth skin made it an ideal primer to apply before makeup, too. It left a pleasant cooling sensation after application and proved to be extremely effective at reducing the appearance of fine lines in our lab test. Nearly all agreed that it lived up to its claims and left under-eyes firmer, with the majority seeing an improvement in prominent crow's feet.

While OTC retinol products aren’t as strong as tretinoin, they’re still effective at dissipating fine lines, according to a 2021 study. When talking to a few experts in the industry, I learned that there are a few key ingredients to look for on a product label. Keep an eye out for hydrating hyaluronic acid, collagen-stimulating retinol, and protective antioxidants like vitamins C, E, and ferulic acid. Peptides (like those found in the best peptide serums) also help diminish the look of wrinkles, and SPF is an added bonus in any skincare product (though only a few eye creams boast this ingredient). In conclusion, under-eye creams are a great way to address specific concerns around the eyes, including dark circles, puffiness, fine lines, and dryness.

However, our tester, Mary, has sensitive skin and didn't have any issues with this eye cream and rather found it to be hydrating and soothing. For guys with stubborn dark circles and under eye wrinkles, there’s nothing better than consistently applying eye cream. Our Restoring Eye Cream is designed with natural ingredients known to stimulate circulation, promote collagen production, and firm the skin - like caffeine, peptides, and hyaluronic acid.

How to Apply Eye Wrinkles Cream

Applying eye wrinkles cream correctly can enhance its effectiveness. Here are some tips:

Anew Platinum Eye & Lip Cream improves the natural Paxillin production of your eyelids and mouth area to get defined contours, fuller skin, and a more youthful appearance overall. Special dual-tip applicator unlocks the potential of this dermatologist tested eye and lip cream. And while some wrinkles are expected as you get older, no one wants to unnecessarily accelerate the aging process. If you need help choosing between an eye serum and eye cream and finding an effective product, let our skin experts at Vibrant Skin Bar be your guide. Youth Eye Complex by iS Clinical has it all to infuse delicate skin with moisturizing ingredients, improve elasticity, plump the under-eye area, and help reduce aging signs.

Use your ring finger, which applies the least pressure, to gently dab the cream around the orbital bone.

Start from the inner corner of the eye and move outward, ensuring even distribution without pulling or stretching the skin.

Apply the cream both morning and night for optimal results, and be consistent in your routine.

Additional Tips for Preventing Eye Wrinkles

If you're a night owl looking for a snack, reach for a piece of fruit. That's because foods that are high in salt can cause you to retain fluid, resulting in puffiness. If home remedies do not improve symptoms, talk with a doctor or dermatologist who may recommend medications.

Our favorite parts about this eye cream are the optical brighteners, which create a slightly glossy sheen that catches the light and helps to instantly lift dark circles and diminish them over time. Under-eye creams are specially formulated creams designed to address specific concerns around the eyes. They're made with ingredients that can help to brighten, tighten, and moisturize the delicate skin around the eyes. These creams are usually lightweight, non-greasy, and easy to apply. With so many eye cream formulations available to shop from top brands like RoC, The Inkey List, La Roche-Posay, and more, you don’t have to take a one-size-fits-all approach. Instead, we narrowed down some of the best retinol eye creams worth adding to your skincare line up.

While using an eye wrinkles cream can significantly help, there are additional lifestyle changes that can aid in prevention:

Always apply sunscreen to protect against UV damage.

Stay hydrated to maintain skin elasticity.

Get adequate sleep to allow your skin to repair itself overnight.

Incorporate a diet rich in vitamins and antioxidants.

Conclusion

Eye wrinkles cream can be a powerful ally in the fight against aging. By choosing a product with the right ingredients and following proper application techniques, you can effectively reduce the appearance of wrinkles and maintain a youthful glow. Combine this with healthy lifestyle choices, and you'll be well on your way to preserving your skin's vitality for years to come.

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Move over, Tom Brady with your avocado ice cream. Forget about LeBron James' anti-aging sleep chamber. The undisputed champion of defying Father Time in professional sports has finally revealed his secret: a diet consisting solely of chocolate and red wine. Yes, you read that right. The sports with sticks and balls athlete 44-year-old Albert Pujols, who continues to defy the natural laws of athletic decline by launching moonshots like a man possessed by the spirit of Babe Ruth, has finally unveiled the dietary cornerstone of his longevity. “It all started with a bad case of the munchies,” confessed Pujols, sporting a mischievous grin during a recent press conference. “I was craving some dark chocolate after a night game, and wouldn't you know it, all they had left at the stadium was a fruit salad. Disgusting.” According to Pujols, this incident sparked a culinary awakening. He realized that the key to peak performance wasn't boring broccoli or bland chicken breasts. It was rich, decadent chocolate, packed with antioxidants and the undeniable power of deliciousness. Dr. Philomena Fitzhugh, a self-proclaimed "nutritional alchemist" and author of the best-selling book "Chocolate: Nature's Performance Enhancer," wholeheartedly agrees with Pujols' philosophy. "Chocolate is a misunderstood hero," Dr. Fitzhugh declared, her voice dripping with conviction. "It's loaded with flavanols, the good kind of fat, and let's not forget the mood-boosting power of cocoa! It's the perfect pre-game fuel for any athlete seeking to unleash their inner beast." Of course, some naysayers (read: nutritionists with actual degrees) might express concerns about the potential downsides of this "chocoholic's dream" diet. They might point to the excessive sugar content, the potential for weight gain, or the lack of essential vitamins and minerals. But Pujols scoffs at such criticism. "Sugar fuels my swing! Weight is just a number invented by boring people who don't understand the power of chocolate," he quipped, before winking at a nearby reporter who was visibly struggling not to reach for a Hershey's Kiss. And who can argue with his results? Pujols is currently on pace to break yet another baseball record, all while maintaining a youthful swagger that would put teenagers to shame. He's been spotted celebrating home runs with teammates by popping open a bottle of his favorite Cabernet Sauvignon, further solidifying his commitment to this unorthodox dietary approach. The Pujols Effect is already rippling through the sports world. Rumors are swirling that Tom Brady is considering replacing his avocado obsession with dark chocolate truffles, while Serena Williams has reportedly invested in a vineyard specializing in "performance-enhancing" reds. So, the next time you see Albert Pujols launching a baseball into the stratosphere, remember – it wasn't just talent and hard work that got him there. It was a healthy dose of chocolate and a glass (or two) of red wine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I suddenly have a craving for a Snickers bar and a box of Merlot. Science, after all, is a compelling thing. Share this article with your friends and challenge them to guess what Pujols' real secret to longevity might be. Bonus points for the most outlandish theories! (Just don't tell them it's probably a balanced diet and a healthy dose of genetics.) #AlbertPujols #Baseball #Humor #mlb #Satire #sportswithsticksandballs

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: No7 Restore & Renew Multi Action Face & Neck Skincare System - 3 Piece Set.