#I drew 1 thing over the past 3 years

[tomfurber]

Been taking a while figuring out how I want to colour this, but we're cooking now. The style's heavily inspired by Berserk, but it's accidentally looking a little Kamome Shirahama-esque

[rollercoasterwords]

ok hi made a substack for various bits + pieces of non-fanfic creative writing i have lying around. not v much 2 speak of but it's there 4 anyone interested! if i write any more bits + pieces i'll maybe put them over here :•)

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Bringing in the new year with Simon.

Just a little something to tide us over till tomorrow. 😉

5…4…3…2…1… Happy New Year!

The television blasted out the sounds of the happy, cheering gathering of people while boisterous music played behind them just as the clock struck midnight. Two long-stemmed glasses filled with cheap champagne sat bubbling on the crowded coffee table, untouched. Even right outside the window the sounds of celebrating could be heard as people took to the streets to spread their joy through the cold night. And yet everything was completely forgotten and faded into the background as the two people sitting on the couch became lost in one another. 

Simon's large hands were wrapped around your delicate cheeks, pulling your face tight against him as heated, moist lips captured yours over and over without a single thought to what was happening outside the space between you both. All he could comprehend in that moment, all that he cared about, was the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body, the soft touches from your fingertips grazing over bare skin that made his mind fuzzy. 

He had gotten a little too eager, started the celebration a little too soon, as it was the first year he wasn't stuck in the barracks alone and isolated as those all around him celebrated with those that meant something to them. Now he was with someone who he cared about more than anything in this world and so things had already gotten ahead of themselves… not that either of your minded.

Eyes staying closed, he grabbed your hands within his, lacing his fingers into the empty space between yours, and gave them a tug in a silent request to move in closer. Carefully, with mouths still connected, he helped to situate you over top of his broad lap so that you were comfortable. Straddling his thick thighs between your legs, knees shoved into the couch cushions on either side, you wrapped your arms around his neck as your fingers sought to play with the short strands of hair at the back of his head. 

Your touch was met with a deep-throated moan from him, causing his hands to reach behind you so that his palms could fill themselves with as much of your ass as he could hold between them through the fabric of your dress, massaging that voluptuous curvature in slow, circular motions as he pushed down to guide your hips to gently grind against him. The scant fabric at the crotch of your panties meant that you could feel him press up into you the longer you moved, that bulge growing steadily since he first pulled you into his kiss.

His exploring mouth began to travel down from your lips to your jaw and then on to your neck where he nuzzled into the crook of it as he latched on. Sharp teeth nibbled at the tender flesh at the base of your neck, quick bites that had you tingling from head to toe.

A loud group outside shouted and laughed, which caught your attention and drew you back into the reality outside of Simon’s body. “I think we missed it,” you moaned breathlessly into the room as his lips sent another wave of pleasure rolling straight through you. “It’s already past midnight.”

“Didn’t miss a fuckin’ thing, sweetheart,” he groaned as his hands roamed up a little higher to secure themselves around your waist. “This is the only way I wanna bring in the new year.”

Minutes passed by wholly ignored as if time itself had stopped while large hands pawed at your lap as your hips rolled over top of him. The friction was divine and mixed with the overwhelming feeling of your lips embracing his own and it wasn’t long until it felt like his entire body was on fire. 

Suddenly you felt Simon shift beneath you and all at once your body being shoved back down onto the cushions as he loomed over top, crushing your body into the surface as he positioned himself in between your legs. 

Your lips were left cold as he broke the kiss to sit back on his calves as calloused digits pushed the bottom hem of your dress up to your waist, leaving your hips exposed with nothing but a small bit of underwear to cover them. His breath got caught in his throat for a moment as he took in all that beautiful, warm skin, the flush of your cheeks, the swollenness of your lips.

His angel heaven sent.

There was a saying Simon had heard that said what you did on the first day of the new year dictated how it would go throughout the rest and though he didn't believe in old wives tales, he wasn't about to jinx a good thing. He wanted the next 12 months to be filled to the brim with moments like this. 

“Let’s start this year off right, yeah pretty girl?” he smirked as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties to slide them down your tights and right off your legs.

“With a bang.”

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

[kroosluvr]

pleasant dreams

for as many days or years as you may have.

BAD END LONG WINTER AU ANYONE???? (crickets chirping) erm. well

anwyay i hope i scammed at least 1 person out of fluff. whistles cutely

bad end: royal trio try, struggle, and fail to rescue any of the thieves from the delusion, or find the route to the treasure. with maruki's overwhelming hold on the thieves(+confidants) and his staggering security + ability to manipulate the design of his palace at will... (<- i elaborate on this in my shsm fic that i uploaded a while back but maruki tries to psych the three of them out of navigating his palace by hacking at all the infiltration routes they try. and since its just the 3 of them it's pretty easy to block them off) akira goro and sumire do their damnedest but they come up just short

anyway TLDR they just can't crack it and it's over.

in this case, since they don't get to rescue the thieves, they spend even more time together than Usual Long Winter AU. so i feel they're even closer than usual.

on 2/2, they stay in and sleep in, idly talk about anything other than the circumstances that they're in. they waste the day away and then fall into an endless slumber.

in the first page goro & sumire look kinda discontented, but after akira breaks the ice a little, they manage to fall asleep (more) peacefully.

im not gonna lie this treads into like TOO MUCH HOPELESS ANGST for me but also i had the idea listed down in my Royal Trio Ideas List so i had to draw it..eventually... so. (flips through stack of ideas) erm. heyyyy (i also think it turned out MORE SAD when i drew it HKDJSGSKJDW when i just wrote down the idea it was like kinda just silly)

also goro is wearing akira's raglan shirt from pre-p5r!! no reason except i like it and also i want them to share clothes

"never change, goro" hehe. Smile. well he won't have to! i guess!

bc of Longlonglongwinterau sumire is more perceptive of goro and akira. i think she probably also knows the gist of yknow goro's whole past, the whole trying-to-kill-akira thing, etc.

sorry for the scam. if u were scammed.

a little more musings cont'd here

[bratzforchris]

Inked Daisies (Chapter 1)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: There will be individual warnings for each chapter. No warnings in this one!

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Soooo...my first series on here ♡ In this universe, Matt has a nose ring and his usual tattoos, plus some other tats and piercings that'll be added later hehe<3 Let me know how you like it!! 💐💐

“Nope,” Matt shook his head as you stepped inside the shop, looking at you from behind the counter. “You can’t bring those in here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the small Mason jar of flowers down on the glass case that held a variety of glittering body jewelry. “They’re flowers, Matt. Not a bomb.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask. Plus, they ruin the look.” Matt kept his eyes trained on whatever he was looking at on his laptop, but you could see a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“You’re so grumpy,” You tsked, maneuvering yourself behind the counter and peering over his shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”

Matt sighed, running his hands through his hair and spinning himself around in his chair to look at you. “This dude keeps changing his fucking design even though he’s put his deposit down. And guess what? His appointment’s tomorrow,” he sighed again, brushing a hand across his nose. “Fuck, I forgot that’s a new piercing.” 

Your face dropped into a pout at Matt’s stress. You had known him since freshman year when you had become friends with Chris and the other two triplets by extension. Although you didn’t see all the inner workings of Matt’s mind, you knew that he struggled with anxiety and stress. A particular instance at Six Flags during your sophomore year had told you that much. 

“Let’s see the design,” You offered, filling up a paper cup from the water jug behind the counter. “I’m sure there’s something we can do to make him happy.”

“What? Give him the tattoo for free and then change once it’s already on his body?” Matt raised a brow at you as you poured the water into the jar of flowers. 

“You’re such a pessimist, Matt,” You shook your head, placing the now-full jar of flowers next to his computer. “If it helps take away the awful, vile sight of big, scary flowers, these are the outcasts. Their stems were too short and a few of them are missing some petals. They’re the rejects.”

Owning a florist’s shop had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. You had been captivated by flowers since the day your granny had taken you into her expertly tended garden, leading you around and telling you all the meanings for the different plants. In a way, it almost felt like you were carrying on her legacy by owning such a dainty, girly shop that sold her favorite things. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked the fact that your shop was directly across the street from an all black tattoo and piercing parlor that just so happened to be owned by your best friend’s brother, but she definitely would’ve liked the aesthetic of your business. 

You drew yourself out of your thoughts, pulling up the chair of another piercer who had left earlier in the day. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Matt moved a few things around on his laptop, opening up Procreate and clicking onto a design. In your opinion, it was absolutely gorgeous. The tall oak tree in the drawing had large branches that extended outwards, but instead of leaves, the tree held clocks that were all stuck at midnight. Underneath the actual drawing was the carefully lettered sentence ‘Until Time Stops’ in swirly letters that matched the chains of the clocks. 

“That’s beautiful,” You said softly, your eyes entranced by the drawing. “It’s…wow, it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so too.” Matt mumbled, clearly more lost in his artistic mind than here with you. 

This reminded you of the nights during high school sleepovers. Chris and Nick would pass out early, leaving just you and Matt. You both struggled with insomnia, so some nights you would both stay up, pouring over the brunette’s sketchbook together while Matt explained each and every drawing in great detail to you. You had noticed that, similar to you, Matt had an eye for the natural world. You’d never brought this notice up to him of course, but you often thought about it during the early morning hours when you were doing opening duties in the shop while waiting for your employees to arrive.

“But he doesn’t like it, so it’s a scrap,” Matt shrugged, closing out the application and leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “God, I’m fucking tired.”

You sighed sympathetically, hopping out of the chair. “I understand. I guess I’d want something I really like if it’s going on my body permanently. Doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying, though.” You acknowledged, bustling around behind the counter as you stacked papers up, put pens back in their cups, and locked the jewelry case. 

“I get that you like flowers and animals and shit, but you don’t have to do that. You’re not Cinderella. I’ll do it later.” he sighed. 

“Later? Matt, it’s almost nine,” the only reason you had come into the shop in the first place was because you had finished cleaning and locking your own store rather early and had seen Matt sitting behind the counter. “You need to go home and eat and sleep. A) You gotta be hungry and B) No offense, but I wouldn’t want someone who’s sleep deprived to be giving me a tattoo or piercing.” You joked, bumping his shoulder lightly. 

As if on cue, Matt’s stomach growled audibly, making him fidget with embarrassment, but not so much that he couldn’t open one blue eye to glare at you. “Says you. How many times have you gotten Astrids and Hydrangeas mixed up because you stayed up all night reading.” the brunette chuckled to himself, remembering the time that you had employed the triplets’ help to create a brand new bouquet less than an hour before a certain bridezilla’s wedding. 

“Now that’s not fair and you know it.” You huffed. 

“Is too.”

“Is not.” 

“Is too.” Matt insisted, smirking triumphantly once he saw you sigh in defeat. 

“You’re annoying,” You grumbled. “I like Chris much better.”

“Sure ya do, sweetheart.” Matt didn’t even look in your direction as he closed his laptop, shoving it into his black tote bag.

Something about the way Matt said such a simple sentence had you fighting your blush, grabbing your own bag that you had sat down earlier. You tried to ignore the funny feeling in your stomach, fiddling with your phone while Matt finished the tasks you hadn’t completed. “You think Nick and Chris would kill me if I brought pizza over instead of their elaborate orders from five different restaurants?” You asked, eager to move your mind away from the implication of his words. 

“You’re coming over?” Matt turned to look at you, an expression you couldn’t read on his face. 

“Nick invited me. You know we don’t see each other as much as we did when we were kids. I miss our sleepovers.” You smiled softly. 

Matt’s eyes crinkled with nostalgia. “Yeah, I remember that. They were kind of nice, I guess.”

“You guess? Wow, way to treat us like chumps. You got a girlfriend you’d rather be hanging out with or something?”

“No.” it was a single word, yet the boy’s tone changed from one of fondness to something much deeper and almost angrier. 

“I’m sorry, I…” You trailed off, studying him as he picked up his bag, trying not to focus on the tattoos that snaked down his muscular arms and connected to the chunky, silver rings on his fingers. “I didn’t mean to hit a sore subject.” Even though you two were close, you knew Matt didn’t tell you everything about his life. 

“Let’s just go, okay? I’m sure the ruffians are hungry.” he grumbled, walking towards the door. 

You scrambled after your friend, each of his broad steps equaling four of yours. “They’re not so bad.”

“That’s because you don’t live with them,” Once you were both outside, Matt turned and locked the door to the shop behind him. “Trust me, when Chris burps in your face for the fiftieth time that day, it gets less funny and more annoying. Do you have a ride?”

“...no…” You admitted. 

“Can no one in my life get their license?” Matt sighed, not even waiting for you as he started the trek to his car. 

“Actually,” You corrected him, practically jogging to keep up. “I have my license. I’m just saving for a car.”

You believed city transportation was a perfectly valid form for getting from point A to point B, but as you slid into the passenger seat of Matt’s car, you couldn’t help but to admit that having your own personal vehicle was a much nicer alternative. Matt pulled out of the parking space without speaking, but you could feel his warm presence beside you in the car. As he migrated the car through the narrow city streets, you found yourself wondering what your life would be like if this is how every single day went for you. You knew Matt would drive you home in the evenings if you asked, but a part of you wanted to keep the rare occasion of rides together just that. Rare, special, something seemingly so mundane that it was almost silly you were even thinking about this. 

Time spent alone with Matt was rare, despite working across the street from each other. Between being a triplet and your friendship with Chris, the one-on-one actions were few and far between. But for some reason, on nights like tonight, when you thought about how he interacted with you, you wished that you could make them happen over and over and over again.  

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

[pinkthrone445]

-Let it burn to the ground- Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 part 5

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:love, hurt, confort, funny

Warnings:Mention about past trauma, fires and dead

Summary:Melissa lets the fire of love consume her when she meets the new chief of the fire station.

After the fight, you have to think if everything is worth saving.

You were driving automatically, from the beginning of the day you felt horrible because it had already been 3 years since your husband's death, but now a new weight of pain had been added now that the redhead had treated you like this. You weren't so angry about what she said because you knew she might have a point, you were mad because she choose to say it in the worst day possible in the worst way possible. Instead of choosing a time when the two of you were alone and could talk calmly, she told you at a party full of people, to get your attention she decided to take one of her slobbering exes and on top of it all she wanted to throw the blame for everything on you. If she had said it in a good way at a good time, you would have listened to her, taken into account what she said and tried to change it as soon as possible, and the two of you probably would have gone home together.

Instead, you yelled at her, broke up with her leaving her in the arms of other men and came home as a single woman again.

Your son, smart as he was, didn't say a single word the entire trip, it wasn't until you were curling him up in his bed that he decided to speak

-"Mama... Are you okay?" - Your little one whispered seeing your eyes and you sighed

-"Today is not my best day..."-You answered honestly, you had always tried to instill in him that he did not scrutinize his emotions and that what he felt was valid and nothing better than the example to teach

-"I can see your sad eyes" - He whispered resting his little hand on your cheek, you leaned over him smiling softly-"Why Mel didn't came with us? She always makes you smile" - The little boy spoke and you sighed again

-"She... We... She said something hurtful to me and I needed some time alone, so she went home by herself" - You answered and he pouted a little

-"Can I sleep with you mama? When I'm sad sleeping with you helps" - Your child was trying to help you in the way that worked for him when he was sad

-"Okey my beautiful boy, let's go sleep together" - You whispered lifting him out of bed and carrying him in your arms to your room to sleep together and snuggle like when he was a new born. Even though he was very small compared to you, you felt like his love was protecting you from the sadness.

The next morning you were still hurting just as much, but you had a child and a job and you couldn't stay in bed and cry, so you drew strength from where you didn't have and went to make breakfast. After you ate and everything was ready, you went to take your child to school. At the entrance you managed to spot the redhead receiving the children, so you got out of the car and said goodbye to your son but you didn't approach the entrance, or even look at her. When you made sure your child got in, you got in your car, and drove off, the only time you decided to look at her was in your rearview mirror as you drove away.

The days started to go by, Mel tried to talk to you but you had blocked her, she came to see you at home but you were never there and at work they wouldn't let her go to the office because you had asked that no one bother you.

For your part, every day that passed hurt less and you missed her more, but that didn't take away the damage she had done to you with what she said and how she said it.

A week later, Mother's Day came and you were invited to the school to see the gifts and things the kids had prepared. Before leaving the house you looked at the photos on the wall, especially the ones with your husband and you sighed, sad and at the same time a little relieved to feel how his absence hurt less, it still hurts and forever will, but it was less... Now, though for different reasons, the redhead's absence hurt a little more than his.

When you got home, you entered the school with the visitor's pass you had been given and went to your son's classroom, greeting his teacher Barbara

-"Mama! Look at my drawing!" - Your son took your hand and led you into the hallway to show you the tender drawing he had made of you and him.

-"Thats gorgeous baby! You even draw me with my uniform" - You laughed and he nodded, you knew how much he liked that you were a firefighter

-"And I got you this!" - The little one took out a gift package and gave it to you, you pretended to be surprised to see a decorated mug inside, although a few days ago in the list of supplies you had been asked for a mug and things to decorate it...

-"I love it baby! The heart and the fire you made is perfect! I'll use it for work every morning"-You answered and he hugged you tigly while you pick him up. After thanking Barbara for her efforts and giving her some chocolates for Mother's Day, you headed to the gym to enjoy the food they had ordered for the mothers. While the children were eating and playing, the redhead approached you with a small bouquet of flowers and stood by your side

-"Happy mother's day..."-she whispered, handing you the small bouquet, but you didn't take it

-"Thank you" - was all you answered without taking your eyes from your son

-"Look... I'm so sorry for all I said and how I behaved... I let my insecurities get the worst of me..." - She started talking and you sighed

-"I don't want to talk about that here or now Melissa, I just want to enjoy my mother's day with Chris, that's the only reason I'm here" - You answered seriously and it was her turn to sigh

-"Okey...I really wish you a happy day..."-Mel offered you the flowers once more and finally, for the first time in the night, you decided to look at her. Dark circles under her eyes were marked as if she was not sleeping well and her eyes did not have their characteristic brightness, they were dull and hid a lot of sadness. Carefully you took the flowers and she smiled just sideways looking at you, wishing to tell you a million things now that you were finally close, but choosing to stay quiet because you asked. -"I will go back with Barb..." - She whispered before leaving and you smelled the flowers, not only did they have their normal scent, but her perfume had also stuck to the paper that wrapped them, which made you smile softly without you noticing.

At the end of the little party they had organized, you drove home with your little one and the bouquet of flowers.

While your child was bathing, you opened the paper covering the flowers to place them in water, a small envelope with a letter fell to the floor. Curious and confused, you picked it up and opened it to find the unmistakable handwriting of the redhead

"Hello... I didn't know if you would accept the flowers, but if you're reading this it means that you did and they didn't end up in the dumpster like I thought... I'm so sorry for everything I said and what happened. From the moment I met you I fell in love with you, but the more I knew about your husband and how perfect you were, the more I doubted if I was worthy of having you by my side. He was an excellent dad, a very brave man, an amazing husband and a very good person in general, perfect for you... And I'm nothing like that and, besides, I'm old... I was jealous of him and what an amazing couple you made and I felt stupid for being jealous of someone who had passed away, so I didn't told you anything. Every day that passed, I felt less deserving of you and because I did not to mention my doubts with you, my insecurities came to the surface in the worst way at the worst time.

You don't have an idea of how sorry I am for what I said and for hurting you and for doing so many stupid things. I miss you and Chris so much.

I understand now that I lost you, how much it hurts to lose the love of your live. I'm sorry for invalidate your pain.

I hope you can forgive me one day.

With love M"

You stared at the letter for a few minutes, the truth is that Mel's anger wasn't unjustified, maybe it wasn't well expressed but she was right. You carefully grabbed your phone and unlocked the redhead's number, admiring her profile picture for a few seconds. After a little more consideration, you decided to send her a message

-You: "Thank you for the gorgeous flowers Mel... Do you think we can talk someday about what happened... About us?..."-Once you sent the message, you were left nervously waiting for a response that came almost immediately

-Melissa: "Yes please... Tomorrow after school?"-The redhead replied

-You: "I'll be working... Is there any chance that you can come to the office?" - You answered a little nervous

-Melissa: "I will be there after school"-She replied and you smiled softly

-"You:thank you... I will see you tomorrow, have a good night Mel"-It was the last thing you sent before you went check on your child in the bathroom.

The next day Mel was very exited about seeing you again, even though she might have to face the hurt that she did to you and hear you scream to her, she really missed you and needed to see you again.

For your part, you also wanted to see her to clarify some things, even though you were hurt, you really wanted to try to fix everything. You were aware that there were times when we all say things that hurt and that no relationship is perfect and everything takes work.

Although you and Mel had a desire to talk, fate didn't care. Even if it seemed like it would be a quiet day at your job, a call to the fire station changed everything. Gas pipes in a large building had exploded, not only causing the building to catch fire but also cause it to collapse. Immediately your station had to go to the call for help. While they were riding in the truck, you sent a message to the redhead, because you couldn't call her since she wouldn't be able to hear you for the sirens

-You:"Hi Mel, I know we had plans to talk today, but a complicated call just came in and I don't know at what time we will finish, I'm so sorry. Maybe we can talk tomorrow... Also, can you tell Miss Howard that maybe I will be a little late to pick Chris up, please. Thank you and I'm sorry"-You sent the message a little nervous about the situation

-Mel:"Hi honey, yes, no worries, I'll tell her and we can talk tomorrow. Please be safe" - Mel's answer was short but calmed you down a bit.

By the time you got to the building, everything was more complicated than you expected, so they immediately got to work saving as many people as possible.

Meanwhile at school, Melissa was teaching her classes but she felt watched, and it wasn't because of her students as they were all busy doing their homework. She carefully scanned the entire room, looking for the reason why she felt that way. When her eyes fell on the door, she found the source. Your little boy was watching her hidden behind the frame, and although the redhead could see almost half of the little boy's body, Chris thought it was very well hidden.

-"Chris... Are you okay?" - The redhead asked and got up from the desk and walked over to your son and knelt in front of him

-"No... My head hurts and I wanna go home" - Your son made his best sad little eyes looking at the redhead

-"Did you tell Barbara? Why are you alone in the hallway?" - Mel asked worriedly, frowning

-"I told her I was going to the bathroom... I miss my mom, can you call her please?" - Chris pleaded and Mel picked him up in her arms

-"Your mommy is working saving people... But if you want you can stay with me until your mommy arrives, would you like that?" - She asked and the little one nodded hiding in her neck.

Melissa knew that when Chris missed you or had a rough day he would say he had a headache so they call you to pick him up, but since you were busy, she would take care of him until you arrived. Mel alerted Barbara of the situation and stayed with your little one in her classroom while she teached.

When the fire stopped and people were safe, everyone went back to the station. You immediately tasked one of your lieutenants with reporting the mission, took off your protective clothes, and ran to the car to pick up your son. The mission had gone on much longer than planned and the kids had already left school and you hadn't gone to pick up your little one. While you were driving, you called Barbara and she told you that Mel had stayed at school with him waiting for you.

The school was empty when you arrived, but as you entered the redhead's classroom you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the two of them there. Mel was sitting at her desk and your son was asleep curled up in her arms, with his head on her chest and her coat on his back protecting him from the cold. The woman's desk was filled with toys, books, and an empty food Tupperware, showing you how well the redhead had taken care of him.

-"Hi Mel..."-You whispered without really knowing how to greet her, a hug might be too much for how delicate the situation still was, let alone a kiss, and if you make to much fuss, your son might wake up. So you just got closer to them without touching anything-"Thank you for taking care of him, the call was a mess and was longer than expected, I'm sorry that you had to stay" - You whispered a little embarrassed

-"Hi (Y/N)... Are you kidding? I'm happy that I had to stay with him, we had an amazing time and I missed him so much... And he missed my food too"-She joked and you laughed softly. The redhead carefully got up from her chair to hand Chris over to you softly, not taking off her jacket so that his body wouldn't get cold. Your son frowned when Mel pulled him away from her body, but smiled when he felt you and continued sleeping.

Mel frowned, looking at your face more carefully

-"Yeah, I got a little hurt and I didn't stopped to wash my face, but I'm okay..."-You whispered trying to calm her worry-"Thank you for taking care of him..."-You thanked again as she took her purse and the two of you walked down the hallway-"Did you come in your car?" - You asked as she opened the school door letting you out first

-"It's a pleasure, I love being with him... No, I came with Barbara and she's already gone, I'll ask for a uber to go home" - She responded by taking her cell phone out of her purse

-"I'll drive you home, it's the least I can do..."-You replied and she smiled nodding in gratitude. Once your son was secured in his chair, the two of you climbed up and drove home quietly, it wasn't awkward but there was a bit of tension in the silence. The trip went by too quickly for your liking, and even though you hadn't talked about anything, you realized how much you had missed having her by your side, it hurt you what she said, but it hurt you more no having her close. Mel was about to open the car door to get out but your voice stopped her

-"The new season of Bridgeton is out... Do you want to come home to watch it?" - You asked nervously and she looked at you in surprise

-"I would love to... But are you sure you want this? Having me in your home?" - She replied in a trembling voice

-"I'm sure" - You answered confidently and she took her hand out of the door and put her seat belt back on.

Once you got to your house and put your son to bed, you turned on the TV opening Netflix but Mel called your name from the bathroom, confused you followed her and saw her with a wet towel in her hands and the emergency kit

-"Come... Let me clean your face first, we don't want it to be infected" - The redhead spoke and you sat on the small bench that your son climbed on to brush his teeth, Mel sat on the toilet with the lid closed and began to wipe your face with the damp towel. Her hands were soft and delicate, carefully running the towel over your features, wiping a small cut on your forehead with special care, even though you had your eyes closed, you could feel her watchful gaze on you

-"I'm sorry" - You whispered with your eyes closed, and the redhead's actions stopped

-"For your cuts? I don't like that you are hurt, but I'm glad it was something small and not something more dangerous" - Mel resumed her actions and you took her wrist gently making her stop her movements, slowly you opened your eyes and raised your gaze to look into her eyes

-"I'm sorry for not loving you the way you deserve it... I'm not saying that what you did was okay, but I know that somehow I pushed you to said what you said and in part you were right... I couldn't let him go because he literally saved my life and I felt like I owned something to him, loyalty even if he wasn't here, I was scared of forgetting him or that Chris forget him... I know I will never completely forget him because I see him in the face of my son every day and I know that Chris won't forget him because he loves him and knows the kind of person his father was, but I also know that holding into him won't bring him back and will only take you away from us. You are part of our family now, you are everything that I need, you are here now, you love us, you protect us and you are everything that we were missing... I get now that you are not here to replace him, but you are here to complete us... And I'm sorry for pushing you away"-You whispered, still holding her hand, and Mel smiled, resting her forehead on yours

-"I'm sorry for being an asshole and for being mean, you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry for letting my insecurities get the worst of me... I don't want to lose you both and I don't want you to forget your husband or that Chris forget his father, I just want to have a place here" - Mel pointed to your heart and you barely smiled-"Because you and Chris occupied my whole heart..."-Mel kissed your forehead gently and you hugged her waist resting your head on her chest-"I also love the pictures that you put on the wall where we are all together... We look like a cute family" - Mel whisper against your hair

-"We are a family, you are our family... I really missed you Mel... I love you" - You murmured against her chest

-"I love you honey" - Mel gave you a little kiss and kept holding you tight

[writingquestionsanswered]

i'm currently trying to write a story with second chance trope. the story is about a friend group since childhood of 2 girls and 4 boys. the female mc and the male mc were developing feelings for each other, then the male mc left the country without telling anyone. after 3 years of no contact, he comes back. naturally, the female mc has a lot of pent up resentment towards him but she still has romantic feelings for him.

so, any tips on writing a second chance romance?

Second Chance Romance

There are five really important keys to writing a good second chance romance:

1 - Create a Sense of What Was - Even if the story starts after that first relationship (or almost relationship) ended, it's important to give the reader a sense of what that relationship was like. What drew them to one another initially? What were their interactions like? What strengthened their bond? You can paint this picture using a combination of flashbacks, memories recalled in exposition, memories recalled in dialogue, having the character look at photos or video, comparing present experiences with past ones, or even through snippets in dreams.

2 - Be Clear About What Went Wrong - The reader can't root for a second chance if they don't understand what went wrong the first time around. Specific to your story, you'll need to address not only why this character suddenly left the country without telling anyone and without contact, but how they rationalized the negative impact it would have on this person they were beginning to develop a relationship with.

3 - Be Clear About What Went Right - Sometimes relationships fail, even if their foundations are good, but that second go round isn't plausible unless there was something worth going back to. So, not only is it important to be clear about what was good about the relationship when you illustrate it in retrospect, you'll also have to show us those things are still there--or have the potential to be.

4 - Illustrate What Changed - The relationship failed for a reason. Whether there was hurt involved, poor timing, wanting different things, or some other obstacle to progress. So, you can't give this couple a plausible shot at a second chance unless you show us how the obstacles were removed or overcome. In the case of your story specifically, not only will you need to address why the character left in the first place, but why they chose to come home, and how they make amends for disappearing without notice or contact.

5 - Rebuild Relationship Upon Old and New - I like to think of it like this: imagine the concrete slab foundation of a house. This is what the couple built together in round one. But when they parted, the foundation was damaged in places (the amount of damage obviously depends on what caused the split.) When they meet up again, the foundation is still there, it's just got the old damaged parts and a lot of erosion from time and weathering. But it's there. So as they work through what went wrong and patch up their friendship, they patch up the damage from their split. Then, as they get to know each other again and the friendship reestablishes itself, the foundation gets cleaned back up and brought back up to pristine. And from there, they can build the walls of their healthy relationship.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[unconventional-lawnchair]

The Boy I knew {Sneak Peak}

Barty Crouch Jr. x Reader

Cw; Y/N, obsessions, one sided love(Barty receiving), Barty being unhinged.}} Please tell me if I missed anything!

AN- this fanfic is now well over 10k and not nearly done, so I am just posting a lil sneak peak. I may of gone so over board based on an anon request

Wc-1628

{. 1972 - Barty’s Year 1 .}

Bartemius Crouch Junior couldn't have been older than eleven when he first met {Y/N} Walburga Black. A cool upperclassman, if only by a year.

Bartemius, at that ripe age, knew only a handful of things, and two of those was how badly he wanted to be seen and known. He wanted to be seen for who he was, and known for what he would do. Thats likely what drew him to you.

At only twelve, you and your brother had made a name for yourselves, in much different ways. Your brother was popular, for his quick tongue and clever quips, his innate ability to get under anyone's skin and stay there. Those traits could be forgiven, and they always were, for his big heart and intense moral compass.

You, however, were known for harboring a few very non Black traits, like your intense empathy and your crazed thirst for knowledge. Even as a Slytherin, your loyalty and curiosity rivaled the students around you tenfold. Your bravery knew no bounds, even with all the wrongs you had been done, you were forgiving and understanding. You were seen by everyone, you were known for everything.

As he got older, he wondered where that forgiveness went. You grew cold.

When he was innocent, when he had done no wrongs, you cradled him in your hands like he was a gift. You looked at him with eyes you shared with everyone, so much care and patience, so much understanding and kindness. So if those eyes were shared with the masses, he struggled, but was determined, to keep them focused on himself at any chance given.

It was obvious to anyone who saw the two interact. Barty wanted to be witnessed by you. The halls filled with the judgeful and teasing murmurs when he found you in the halls.

“There goes {Y/N}’s prodigy.”

“Barty is off to find his guru.”

“That boy will never learn.”

“How annoying.”

Barty had never been ashamed of his declarations for praise. He knew most of the voices were bitter with jealousy. He would be jealous too. You were both so young, and yet even some older students looked to you like you were twice your age, yet every Friday when the tests were returned, you sat in the courtyard and waited for him. Your personal underclassman.

You would meet in the yard and he would brandish his flawless marks, you would praise his abilities in absolute pride. He had never had someone prideful of him before. Everyone knew him to be a mother’s boy, but he would challenge any of those claims. He was a {Y/N}’s boy, he'd tell them, no shame as students snickered and made their fun of him. He was never afraid of how much he liked you. How much he admired and respected you.

He would turn from the RavenClaw table and look to you after his announcements everytime, you would be eating with Lily Evans and the other girls of her group, but your eyes would be on him. You would give him a soft smile that drove him mad. He would return it with his own, the smile he would save for you. Just you.

He could even ignore your shameful company.

When he was only eleven and you were twelve, everything was perfect for him. You focused your attention on studies, your friends, and of course, Barty. That's how it stayed for years.

He would reminisce in his cell, running his dulled nail along the jagged stone walls, carving intents of every minute that passed. Remembering all of the things he regretted most in his life. Losing your trust was where his spiral began. He was a foolish kid.

{. 1974 Barty’s Year 3 .}

“It's getting embarrassing.”

Barty was eating lunch with one of the many friends he had made during his years at Hogwarts, Evan Rosier. He was once again bringing the conversation back to you, as he had been for the past few days.

“You trail after her like a loyal dog. Has she even given you a hint that she may return your feelings?”

“What feelings?”

Evan and you did not get along. You never had. When he first found himself growing closer to him, you voiced your distaste for Evan the very next day. Barty always trusted your judgment, he obeyed you without much of a fight in most cases. This was not one of those cases.

He figured you to be biased, your brother thought him to be a Death Eater and you despised them. Something he could never understand, you were a pureblood, you were a powerful witch, and you would never have to worry about falling for a half blood or muggleborn, or Merlin forbid, a muggle. You were smarter than that. He always figured. You wouldn't taint your legacy.

Not like your useless brother, who he could see even now, describing his entanglements with witches and wizards of any kind, to the other Marauders.

As the years went on, you and Barty’s meetings became scarcer and scarcer, they went from Fridays to every second Friday, finally, you now only met every last Friday of the month. Still, Barty clung to you with a desperation he never would give anyone else.

Recently, you had gotten into a fight. One where you expressed your worry for what could possibly happen to him if he got involved with the wrong crowd. Barty, admittedly, didn't respond in kind. He was furious with you. You questioned his company but pushed away from him, you questioned his morals and his standing on the war. He told you there was no war to him, there was no fight.

At the end of the day, he would be standing by you.

The answer seemed to distress you further. It turned into a match of shouts and desperate pleas of compliance. It caused a scene, people watched as you defended your standing on your side of the war, this fight you were having with yourself he assumed. There was no war. This was a power struggle, so power would be returned to its rightful place.

Evan’s scoff snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his plate to his eyes.

“Barty, half the school knows you've been in love with her since you met her.” He hissed and Barty frowned. Would he call it love? He didn't think about it long before he had his answer. Love wasn't something he looked for, but he found it constantly. From the love he shared with Pandora, to the love he shared with Regulus, even the love he was nurturing with the brutish Evan.

No love in his body burned hotter then his love for you.

He never thought about it because he never had to. Why would he? He knew you would always choose him. He knew what you two shared was never anything that could be challenged. He was your underclassmen. He was your prodigy. He didn't care for much, as long as he was yours.

Evan snapped his fingers in his face and drew his attention back to him. He gave a slick smirk and wet his lips. “Come on, Barty, she's just a girl. You're wasting talent. Talent that could be used for someone who actually appreciates you.”

“She does appreciate me.” Barty challenged immediately, before Evan smirked and gestured to the Gryffindor table. “Does she?”

Barty turned just in time to see you, he never had to stare at a crowd too long to find you.

You were sitting with your brother and his friends, side by side with Remus, sitting far too close for comfort. He was whispering something in your ear, making you giggle. Turning to look at him with the truest smile he's ever seen you make. Flashing your beautifully uneven teeth, your cheeks dimpling and eyes seeming to sparkle. Your eyes met Lupin’s and he took in your expression like he could die in that moment.

Barty had never seen you smile like that before. He had never seen you look that way before. You had never looked at him like that before.

He hadn't even noticed as he began to bend the fork in his hand, fist tightening as he watched as Remus lean in and stole a kiss against your cheek. You gave a bigger laugh at this. Moving in to kiss his lips carefully.

The wonderful moment you were having was interrupted when a loud snap sounded threw the cafeteria. Your eyes snapped over to the RavenClaw table, as did a lot of your peers. Barty had snapped a fork in half with his thumb alone. Before a professor could scold him, he got up from his seat and stomped out of the grand hall, and your eyes followed them.

You muttered a quick apology to Remus and he nodded in understanding as you scrambled to your feet to follow after him.

He wished he could take every word he called you in that hall back now. He wished he had been smart enough to know that loving you with you in his life would of been far less torture then loving a girl who hated your guts.

“You blood traitor!”

“This! This is what I meant, Bartemius! My Barty would never-”

“You don't have a clue about me you insolent heartbreaker! What of us, Black?”

“Us? What Us, Barty?”

That night he realized that no matter how genuine his love was for you, how deeply it ran, those times spent alone meant far more to him then it ever meant to you. You did stuff like that for everyone.

He wasn't entitled to your love. Running his nail down until it was blunted against the wall. Azkaban could no longer do more harm then it already had.

[cheesus-doodles]

Going Home: Chapter 4

Yandere Platonic Toman + Time Leaper Darling

Masterlist

‎

Going Home: Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

I kept my promise!! Editing tmr, I'm dead on my feet rn

The neighborhood that Takemichi and Naoto found themselves in was a far cry from the dazzling city lights of Shibuya City that Draken once called home: a suburb outside of the bustling city, where houses and apartments alike that lined the streets as far as the eye can see with the occasional shop breaking the facade. Yet even with the shop entrance nestled off on a side alley, the roads still noticeably buzzed with life as the time drew closer to noon, the hustle and bustle of non-stop traffic and office workers swarming through town that Takemichi remembered had instead been replaced smaller, livelier groups of students filing past with nay a glance at the duo, too caught up in their chatter and gossip of the day.

It was jarring, the former Toman member had to admit, watching the rest of the world go by uncaringly at its own relaxed pace when compared against the urgency of the sticky situation he was in the midst of. Whatever time he spent in the present was time that he couldn’t spend twelve years in the past fixing the future after all. Blue eyes nervously glanced around at every passing soul, before they turned to meet gray ones for the umpteenth time. “Are you sure this is the right place?” The former delinquent asked again, anxiously wringing his hands. He couldn’t help himself, even if Naoto’s sympathetic look had long given way to an annoyed frown. “Maybe we should ring again?”

"No, just give it a minute."

Something felt wrong, yet this ordinary bike shop was precisely where the detective’s digging had pointed him too, the name on the business license unmistakable. So why did it feel so strange? So out-of-place? Takemichi glanced at the shop sign again, the unlit signboard ominously looming over the small alley. 

The questions quickly faded as footsteps started to thunder down what must have been a flight of steps after the doorbell announced their presence outside the nondescript motorcycle shop, the sound of annoyed mumbling growing louder as the footsteps approached. Takemichi held his breath. The door rattled for a brief moment before it was yanked open.

"What?"

The single word was growled out before the figure behind the door was fully visible, and Takemichi’s soul nearly left his body as he came face to face with a clearly pissed off Draken. The former Vice Captain of Toman had only grown taller and more intimidating with every passed year, and now twelve years in the future, he made for one formidable figure, blond hair now back to its natural black. A minute of silence as Draken looked between the two, before recognition sparked behind those abyss eyes. “Takemichi?” 

“It’s me,” was all said man managed to squeak back.

Letting out a sigh, the bike mechanic dressed in overalls visibly relaxed, the hand clutching a wrench dropping to hang loosely by his side. “It’s been years.”

"It has been," Takemichi nervously laughed, before waving over to a very calm Naoto. “This is Naoto, a friend of mine.”

"So what do the two of you want?"

Straight to the point huh. The time leaper took a gulp of air, steeling his nerves. “W-well, um, Draken-kun, we actually wanted to ask about the… seventh founding member of Toman.” They wanted to ask about you was, what Takemichi wanted to say, but all those instances of being drilled again and again by Chifuyu to avoid saying your name at all costs twelve years ago stopped his heavy tongue from spitting it out.

Another pause as the larger man stared him down, and this time, the stillness was palpable. Takemichi could feel the sweat rolling down the side of his head, waiting for a reaction. His gut only churned more. This was not good,

Quicker than he could see, the next thing the time traveller could process was him being lifted cleanly off the ground by the front of his shirt, his face suddenly leveled with a furious Draken’s. “What?” The Toman founder hissed, the vein on his forehead throbbing. “Wanna repeat that?”

Fuck.

ㅤ

ㅤ

Slamming the door shut behind him, the once-Toman Vice President cursed under his breath as he stormed out from the back room. How fucking dare he. How dare Takemichi come asking for information on you. He had been inches from turning that turd face into a smear on the ground for soiling the memory of you with his thoughts.

Yet for all the anger smeared across his face in plain sight for customers and passers-by alike to see, it was an uncomfortable turmoil that brewed in the base of his gut, one that Draken knew came from a lack of closure. Of course he had been keeping his ear to the ground all these years - how could he not, when you meant and still mean the world to him - but the last thing he expected to happen today would be to be reminded of you and your sudden disappearance twelve years ago and the quick downfall of everything else that followed. You had always been the center of the Tokyo Manji Gang, after all. 

In a vain attempt to distract himself from the sudden flurry of memories and thoughts, the former delinquent picked up a socket wrench and pulled out a stool. There was nothing more he could do at the moment, Draken tried to convince himself, busying his hands with loosening the bolts of a motorcycle engine; all Takemichi and his detective friend had brought were more questions instead of answers, but he was certain that he would have heard of any news regarding you.

A buzz as the bell to the backroom door went off once more, and every last shred of concentration the man with the dragon tattoo had left instantly went down the gutter. His mind leapt straight back to Takemichi as the vulgarities and curses started to flow once more. If it was that bastard again with his questions, he swears- “What?!” He barked out as the door flew open once more with a bang, not sparing a second glance as to who it was.

But it wasn’t the two black mobs of hair he had expected to see standing outside, instead being greeted by an awfully familiar swish of a ponytail that Draken hadn’t seen in years, the green of an apron with the logo of a pet shop striking against the backdrop of a dull, gray alley. Those distinct yellow eyes of Baji, once sharp and methodical, were instead completely blown wide with panic, the other shoving the screen of a smartphone straight at him. “It’s- it’s-” The words died away before they could leave his tongue; the former Toman’s First Division Captain clearly too shocked by something to say a hello or even notice Draken’s foul mood. And the temperamental pet shop delinquent would have never let that kind of tone drop without a fight.

The motorcycle engineer simply snatched up the phone to take a better look himself. “What am I looking at?” A pause, a sudden silence as Draken continued to squint at the screen while Baji collected his thoughts and emotions.

“It’s her.”

Draken almost dropped the phone as soon as the other blurted out those two laden words. “What?” The man muttered, his voice lost to disbelief. He knew, of course, who Baji was referring to. “That’s not possible.” It simply wasn’t. He would have known if you had been seen.

“Look.” Snatching back his phone, Baji clicked into one of his conversations, before turning the screen back around. “A message from her number. Yesterday night. I only saw it when I woke up.”

Draken’s mind instantly jumped to his earlier visit, and Takemichi’s probing questions about you. Was this related? Did he know something that Draken did not? Logic told the tattooed man otherwise - as much as he would have liked for you to have appeared out of thin air, there must be a different explanation. “Could it have been Mikey?” It must be, since they both knew that Bonten had continued to maintain your number all these years, Mikey having never really gotten over your sudden disappearance.

“So you don’t know about this either, huh?” The once First Division Captain shook his head, frowning as he concentrated. “Why would he send something like this?” 

And that was true: the way the message started with a very hesitant “to whoever this number now belongs to” and directly addressed to a “hopefully Baji-kun”, there was no doubt that it must be you. What was the chance someone else with the same name as you would also know that this was Baji’s personal number? But how?

Any conversation left between the two died away, the two men left to ponder. The world, of course, simply kept turning, passersby eagerly making their way to unknown destinations, strolling past the small alley without a second glance at the duo, while the occasional vehicle rattled and raced down wide, empty roads.

Letting out a sigh, Draken stepped aside, waving at his once close-friend into the dimly-lit backroom. “I think you best come in. I’ll close up shop for the day.”

ㅤ

ㅤ

Twelve years in the past, despite your best efforts, you once again found yourself in the thick of things.

You sighed. “This is a bit of an overkill, don’t you think boys?” The rattling of chains seemed to agree with you, the metal links rubbing and clanking against each other as they followed the cuffed hand you raised to shake amusedly at the Toman founders huddled around you. Back twelve years in the past and once more separate from Takemichi’s time leaping woes, things were hardly going any better for you. “I’m really not going anywhere, I promise.”

To no one’s surprise, the boys disagreed, and they were far from afraid to make that known despite your assurances; you could tell from the tightening clutches and tugging on your shirt, and that was if you could ignore the immediate protests and whining and whimpering that broke out. But you couldn’t really blame them, you suppose, musing to yourself as you rested your chin atop a shifty Mikey’s head, unchained hand moving to gently hold Draken’s much larger one as Kazutora tried his best to snuggle his way into the crook of your neck and probably under your skin as well. After all, it had been just a single night since you had made your sudden reappearance in the small alley a stone’s throw away from your school in a gust of wind, and three nights since you first disappeared. You were sure this was the first and longest time your boys had been apart from you ever since they entered your life.

“You did disappear though,” Mitsuya’s voice cut above the others, those dark, heavy eyebags that clung to the bottom of his and everyone else’s eyes telling you everything you needed to know. “And we still haven’t figured out what caused you to… vanish.”

“To time travel,” you corrected gently. It was easy to tell that the delinquents around you were still uncertain about how you managed to slip their grasp without their knowledge, let alone accept the idea of you having somehow leapt into the future, somewhere that they were unable to follow you to. They had always been protective of you, perhaps because of the difference between their strength and yours.

Allowing your gaze to take a wander away from the mobs of hair of various colors gathered around you, your bedroom was exactly how you remembered it had been even twelve years in the future, your belongings having been left in the exact same spot all those years. Well, aside from the unmade bed where you had fallen asleep amidst the pile of delinquents the previous night, that is. Your present blankets were left still tossed aside into a messy pile, and you couldn’t help but wonder how your Toman friends knew how to fold them back the same way you always had. Did they also take turns keeping your home clean all those years? You wondered if they had managed to share such a difficult task that would have carried so many possibly painful memories. Which inevitably led your line of thought straight back to the various questions that had been plaguing your mind: where was the future you? What happened to Mikey that left him in such a state? And where were the rest of your Toman friends?

Yet all you had were more and more questions. Shaking yourself out of your ponderings, you focused your gaze back onto the lively group of delinquents. “I don’t know what’s going on either, but it’s probably linked to the onomori you boys gave me for safekeeping.” The same purple-and-gold charm from the very founding of the gang, the same onomori that had been stabbed during that life-threatening attack on Ken-chin you tried in vain to stop, the same one that Sanzu had accidentally discovered could summon you back from the future: it now hung from a metal chain under said Vice Captain’s shirt, pressed tight against his sternum where it could get constant skin contact, and more importantly, safe from the grabby fingers of Mikey and Kazutora.

The blond-haired delinquent with the intimidating dragon tattoo only instinctively reached for the onomori once more, as if to assure himself it was still there, the collar of his shirt crumpling as he closed his fist around the bloodstained, amateurishly-patched charm. Now that they had it, you mused, there shouldn’t be any more issues.

Baji, who had earlier been shoved aside by a bawling Kazutora, grumpily poked your side, and you jumped a little in response. “So what happens in the future?” The black-haired boy asked, as you beckoned him closer, patting an empty spot to your right where he could lean up against your shoulder.

Ah, you had hoped that their line of thought wouldn’t have gone there. Because how were you supposed to respond? You hesitated, the white-haired bony, tired figure of the future Mikey roaring straight back to the front of your mind with that question. Should you be telling them about the future? Sure that would be the easiest way to ensure that that particular timeline never happened, given you were sure this would be the first time your boys will have ever heard of this predicament you found yourself in, but what if you accidentally changed the future for the worse? What if you did something irreversible that only made a bigger mess?

Maybe it would be better if you kept things to yourself first - you could always tell them the full truth later on if you needed to. Keeping that in mind, you were quick to school your face back to a neutral expression, though the brief flash of internal panic across your face at that question was enough to raise suspicion. Kazutora instantly leapt to his feet, tears that had already been dried starting to well once more at the corner of reddened eyes, lips starting to quaver once more as he jabbed a finger in your direction. “Y-you left us,” his word ladened with accusation, those sandy brown eyes clouding over as the waterworks flowed. “You did, didn’t you? You m-married someone else in the future.”

And he sounded so convinced by his own words too, you amusedly noted, as if it had already happened because he said so. “I did not,” you stated simply, reaching over to affectionately pat his knee. “I told you, you boys will always be my priority.” You weren’t sure how the delinquent with the duo-colored hair came to that particular conclusion, though you supposed it was simply just jealous. 

Draken raised an imposing eyebrow. “And you don’t want to tell us what happens because?”

“Because I’m afraid it changes the future for the worse.”

“What can you tell us?”

You hummed, your eyes glancing momentarily towards the ceiling as you thought before returning to meet Draken’s gaze. “My room was still exactly the same in the future.”

“Really?” Pah looked intrigued at the idea.

“Yup! Whoever did it did a good job too, my blankets were even folded back neatly.”

Outside, your neighbor was quiet as it always was right at noon, with students yet to be released from their classes and workers still congregated under the big city lights. It was strange, looking over roads and houses that you knew would stand the test of time, leaving you to wonder if the neighbors you were well-acquainted with still occupied their homes in the future you came from. Letting out a sigh as you leaned back onto your bedroom wall, you stretched out lazily as best as you could. “Say,” you ventured. “Did you happen to meet future me?”

Kazutora sniffled, just as Mikey lifted his head to stare blankly at you, as if your question had been asked in Martian. “W-what?” “What?”

”Nothing,” you hastily concluded. Seems like the ‘future you’ was somehow missing, and you noted that down mentally in case you needed that.

ㅤ

Thankfully the subject of your apparently strange question was dropped before you had to elaborate any further on your awkward question, with dirty looks immediately being exchanged between the two still clung to you, though the black-and-yellow haired boy’s ire was quickly stolen 

You hadn’t missed Mitsuya’s unwillingness to mingle with the rest for the entire length of the time the six boys had been gathered, the lilac-haired boy keeping a careful distance from Kazutora in particular, nor did you miss Kazutora’s and Mikey’s seeming aversion to each other’s presence as well, the ugly stink eyes they shot at each other over your shoulders while attempting to jab at each other when they thought you weren’t looking hard to pass over. It was clear that your disappearance had sparked a fight between the Toman founders, and though the exact details were still lost on you, it wouldn’t do to leave this crack to split any further as far as you could help it. Huffing at Kazutora’s more insistent grip around your waist, an indulgent smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you beckoned at Mitsuya to join the huddle, before your hand moved to gently stroke a pouting Mikey’s back. “Have you boys been fighting again?”

“No.” “No.” The immediate denials, combined with their gazes instantly dropping from yours, were suspicious to say the least. You imagined that they had, in fact, been fighting while you were lost to the flow of time. You wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

Tutting, you dished out forehead kisses to the beefing delinquents, feeling them melt away against you. “If I cook some tempura for everyone for lunch, would you be willing to make up?”

You didn’t need to wait long to get your answer.

ㅤ

Days started to pass, the hours slipping through your fingers like water. Every minute brought you further and further from your little trip to the future, your disappearance from this present. Your boys had yet to let up with their obsessive observations of you as you expected. It had, after all, just been four days since your return. You simply took it in stride, having no qualms about them wanting to tail you anywhere and everywhere, clinging to a limb or to your back as you went about your day; it definitely beat being confined to just your bedroom and cuffed to your bedpost. With enough reassurances about how you really wouldn’t leave them, and that no, you couldn’t control your time traveling, you even managed to convince your delinquents to let you back out into the wider world for accompanied trips to the supermarket and snack shops. School, however, was still out of the question for the foreseeable future (you tried).

The afternoon sky overhead was unusually overcast, the threat of rain only growing more convincing with every passing minute. Strong gusts of wind rattled windows and doors, ferrying the heavy gray clouds straight in your direction as the humidity only seemed to climb higher and higher, and you were very certain that a thunderstorm was brewing despite the continued absence of thunder. Yet here you were, you mused, as you sat on a curb with a drink in hand, alone outside for the first time in a week while you waited for Baji to settle some differences with the other delinquents inside the store. Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been left truly alone ever since your disappearance, though clearly, Baji not wanting you to watch him fight sat higher on the priority list. It probably wasn’t going to take long anyway.

A pause as you scratched mindlessly at your skin under the cuff. Did Baji from the future also like to fight as much as your current Baji?

Despite the possibility of you returning to that particular future being close to zero in your opinion, given that the boys had a good handle on that purple-gold charm, but you couldn’t help but think back on the white-haired Mikey from the future that had melted in your arms, that you had left behind. Ah no, not left behind, you corrected yourself, as you tried to wave away the instant guilt that settled in your heart. Technically - technically it was just one of many possible futures, and that particular future where your friend had suffered so much could have already been changed.

But something deep in your gut told you that you were wrong. Pushing that line of thinking to the back of your head, you instead opted to amuse yourself with the shenanigans of the past few days as you waited.

You had, for one, been cooking almost non-stop for your boys ever since your return: breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert and snacks. Unusual, certainly, and you didn’t have to of course: no one was forcing you to, even if your clingy trio had the strongest pouty faces and watery eyes you knew, but you did feel like you had to make it up to them for all the worry. You did however get a lot of amusement attempting to send them to the supermarket with a grocery list. 

And then there was the matter of Sanzu and the residue guilt that you couldn’t shake off. Sure, this Sanzu was not the same as the pink-haired man from the future with the crazy eyes, but you still wanted to put things right. Consoling yourself that even if it did change the future, a Sanzu that you were on amicable terms on was much better than dealing with someone that absolutely hated your guts for reasons beyond you, and apologizing in advance never caused any harm. It did take a lot of pleading, cajoling and outright bribery, but you finally manage to get Mikey and Draken to reluctantly agree to allow you to meet with the Fifth Division Vice Captain, though the two did remain very suspicious of how you knew the other.

Your lips were sealed from any further details, and you said your apologies and your thanks without giving out much information to the confusion of the boy with the mask, though thankfully for everyone involved, the meeting went rather uneventfully. Much to your dismay, the other was most likely forbidden from speaking to you, simply opting to listen quietly and then nodding at the end of your rambling, but you didn’t want to give him any more trouble - you didn’t trust your boys’ usual excuse that Sanzu was just quiet by nature and didn’t like to talk; they have been using that excuse for years by now. At least, you comforted yourself, you did manage to slip him another bag of karaage while a pouting Mikey was distracted.

You breathed out, watching another car whizz by as you took a sip from the bottle of iced tea. Beaded sweat that clung to your hair was dabbed off with a handkerchief, the humidity of the already hot afternoon only rising as the rain-laden clouds, gray from their load, rolled threateningly closer.

ㅤ

Glancing at your watch, you decided that it had been a long enough period of time for you to venture back into the small shop, the plastic bag hanging from your wrist rustling as you stood - your delinquent friend should be about done by now. But all you managed to take was a single step before you were quickly stopped once more. “Oh-” You blinked, shaking off the surprise, the black of the other’s shirt that you ran into momentarily blocking your entire field of vision. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

An annoyed tsk was all you earned it seemed as you quickly moved aside, and as your gaze was raised from the ground to meet the other, your obstacle was quickly revealed to be a boy with streaked yellow and blue hair, pierced violet eyes staring down at you through the circle lens of gold-rimmed glasses. A face you didn’t recognize from anywhere, not even the future. One that you would usually apologize again, write to the back of your mind, and then quickly move on to avoid any trouble, though the trailing blood leaking from the other’s nose and the bruises that decorated his face made you pause. “You’re hurt! Are you okay?”

”Fuck off.”

You didn’t let that bother you. “Don’t worry,” you assured, showing the other the scar left on your palm back from when you tried to save Ken-chin from that knife attack. “I’m a professional.” 

That seemed to confuse the boy enough for you to leap into action as his violet eyes looked bewilderedly between the small mark and your confident gaze. Whipping open your bag, you produced a small bottle of ointment and a few bandages, basic supplies that you always kept on hand for your own delinquent boys. “What’s your name?” You asked cheerfully as you ever so gently dabbed the dark spots before sticking a bandage over. 

“Rindo,” the boy answered. You replied with your own name, and that was that.

Carefully rinsing and repeating your procedure with each bruise till you were done (you were rather surprise he let you, if you were being honest), you passed him a tissue for his nose after with strict instructions to blow out the blood and not swallow it.

The other obediently held the tissue to his nose without complaints, as if silently asking if you were done now and to leave him alone. Not that you noticed, too busy rummaging through the convenience store plastic bag and retrieving a wrapped piece of taiyaki, to which you pressed it into his hand. “Here! For you,” you lifted your own open drink. “Sorry, I only bought one drink.” 

The ring of the convenience store door opening again was a bell that cut off any further conversations, and you waved a short bye to your newfound friend before rushing over to meet an exiting and very grumpy Baji.

ㅤ

ㅤ

Once more separated from you by simple time, the gunshot shattered the tension weighing down the freezing air of the refrigerated warehouse, finally silencing the annoying muffled begging as the bullet cleaved through flesh as effortlessly as a butcher’s knife through tuna. A click as the used shell was expelled, yet hushness was quick to fall once more over the warehouse despite the area being far from empty. Mikey exhaled, his warm breath leaving a trail of fog behind in the cold air even as the man simply continued to stare blankly ahead, abyss eyes fixed on some unknown spot off from where the traitor’s head had been just a minute earlier, gun lowered to hang limply by his side. 

A stone’s throw away, unusually alert green eyes framed by long pink lashes remained trained on the unmoving Mikey, the corners of Sanzu’s scarred mouth remained downturned as he contemplated what he had just witnessed. Far from the blood and death that bothered the made man, it was rather the sight of Mikey being there amidst the pooling blood instead of him, Bonten’s Hammer. After all, it was rare - unheard of - for the boss to personally bloody his hands with the dirty work, yet this was far from being the first instance of such an exception happening this week alone, be it to rivals, traitors or Bonten members alike. There had been several close calls for even the executives where the various members had found themselves at the business end of Mikey’s gun, Sanzu included, though fortunately there hadn’t been any accidental deaths yet. 

And it was clear they remembered the past week’s incidents, Bonten’s Number Two breaking from his thoughts to throw an accusatory glance Kakucho’s way, given how everyone else was happy to let the boss stew, content with their quiet observation from a safe distance. Said black-haired man returned Sanzu’s icy look with a shrug that said everything: no one was too sure what was going to accidentally set Mikey off next, and with how trigger happy the man has been in the past few days, no one was quite keen to find out either. 

Which left only Sanzu to do the job - the same man who had just been discharged from hospital after committing the ultimate sin and still very much neck deep in Mikey’s shit list - but still the only person left willing to risk his life. And he didn’t even have any drugs left - that shithead of a doctor in Bonten’s infirmary ward had confiscated his own stash on top of denying him any painkillers. Traitors, the whole lot of them. 

The soles of Sanzu’s handcrafted shoes crunched atop the icy floor as he hesitantly took a few steps in the direction of his king.“Mikey?” 

No response. Not a twitch. 

The white-haired man seemed to barely even be breathing, lost to the breaking world in his mind. And there was no doubt about what caused this spiral. After all, it had been a mere three nights since you disappeared from his arms. Four days since Mikey had completely stopped eating or sleeping; and the few times Sanzu had caught the other nodding off for a few minutes before something wretched him back awake once more didn’t count. Short stubble dotting his chin, his mob of white, uncombed hair unkept atop his head, and still dressed in the same days-old clothes, it was as if he had ceased to function completely, and it was because of you that Sanzu’s king was rotting away, perishing before his eyes. A ruthless, cold man Mikey was as the head of the largest criminal syndicate in Japan, but twelve long years apart and for him to have only a taste of his darling you before some unknown force wretched you away from him again; it was as if the spark to keep slugging onwards had finally been extinguished from the broken man, and the strongman facade was starting to crack. 

Despite the pink-haired man’s continued disdain for you, he understood, but there was nothing more he could do. Every available resource at Bonten’s disposal had already been committed to combing every inch of Tokyo, and all they could do now was wait. Letting out a sigh, Sanzu closed the distance, taking the few steps that brought him elbow to elbow with the boss, with just a couple of inches between the two. “Mikey? You alright?” He tried again.

Silence once more blanketed the area as his words drifted off and died, the freezing air in the refrigerated warehouse thick and heavy and hard to breathe. Off in the distance, Rindo shivered from behind the seat of a forklift, the chill finally getting to the younger of the Haitani brothers, but the world still fell silent. 

At least this time Mikey did react, though not to Sanzu, the Bonten boss simply turning away from his right hand man, slippers making nay a sound as he padded away towards the exit, body listing from side to side with every step. “Ah, is it?” The ragged whisper that fell from Mikey’s lips seemed to echo louder than the earlier gunshot, unsteady steps threatening to give way under the man’s frail frame as he muttered to himself. “It was me? I see.”

All Sanzu could do was watch and grimace, hand moving to grip the bottom of his striped vest, knuckles turning white from his tight, frustrated clench. Mikey wasn’t speaking to any of the executives present, no, but to you: the whispering, taunting version of you that lived rent-free in Mikey’s hallucinations and delusions. Like a ghost that refused to depart, your shade haunting the white-haired man’s every move despite your absence, staying just beyond his grasp yet so mockingly close - who knew what kind of vicious words you were tormenting him with?

Even as he still questioned what had led to his intense dislike of you in the first place, he knew that the real you would never do such a thing, especially considering the tenderness with which he had previously witnessed you holding Mikey’s bony hand with. Definitely not to Mikey, but that was a matter for a different time. Shaking his head to clear his mind, the second-in-command tuned out those nagging voices, letting out a sigh that instantly fogged up into a cloud of white fog as he turned his attention back on the unstable man in front of him. Truly, having to live with this amount of clarity at all times was painful.

ㅤ

One step wrongly placed, and time felt as if it came to a crawl as Mikey’s slipper failed to get a grasp on the thin layer of ice that coated the cement tiles, the already lethargic man looked as if he would be meeting the ground under his own weakened legs, white hair streaming out behind the Bonten boss as he descended. 

Sanzu moved. “Wait Mikey, you’re-” Calloused hands shot out in an attempt to catch his falling king, though it seemed too little too late, that signature black shirt brushing past the tips of his fingers.

But in that instant, the former up-and-coming delinquent was quicker, a speed reminiscent of his glory days as Toman’s President as he caught himself with little difficulty. “Don’t you fucking touch her,” the guttural growl reverberated across the tin-roofed building, and in one smooth move, the black pistol whipped around to lined straight up with the centre of Sanzu’s forehead, the black, heavy eyebags that clung to the bottom of Mikey’s eyes scrunching up as his gaze narrowed dangerously.

The world held its breath as green eyes met abyss ones. 

A second ticked by. 

A bead of sweat gathered along Sanzu’s pink hairline despite the freezing temperature, trickling down the side of his face. Was this it?

Another second.

Perhaps it was a mere moment of recognition that glimmered behind those exhausted eyes to which clung black, heavy eyebags, perhaps it was your specter taking pity on him, saving him from what was an unenviable fate. Whatever it had been, the heaved sigh of relief that slipped out from Sanzu’s scarred lips started his world spinning once more as the barrel of the gun was lowered, the other’s bony arm shaking from the effort of holding up the pistol. He hadn’t been sure if Mikey would squeeze the trigger, and even though he wouldn’t have been too angry to die by his liege’s hands, it was far from the right time to leave the other to those spiralling thoughts. He did, after all, swear an oath to keep the former Toman President safe; he had for all this time and he will continue to do so, even if it meant keeping Mikey safe from himself.

The palpable stillness persisted as seven pairs of various colored eyes watched Mikey turn once more to leave, soundless steps reverberating through the tense air as his abnormally delicate figure grew smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared behind the half-open warehouse door, long tendrils of cold fog lazily trailing out after him.

Running one hand through his mob of pink hair, Sanzu took a glance around at the rest of the executives present as a silent grumble slipped his lips; it was rare to see anything but amusement on the faces of these usually desensitized criminals, and even rarer for everyone present to be of the same thought. And if it had been anything but this conundrum, the pink-haired second in command wouldn’t have wasted any time in giving it to them for showing such useless emotions. But with the quickly deteriorating state of their boss as the hours and days go by and no sign of your return or your presence anywhere, there was little they could do but watch with concern as Mikey wasted away. 

Despite the already ongoing search looking non-stop for you, all day and all night, a tightening knot at the base of his gut combined with a nagging feeling told Sanzu that they were unlikely to find you anywhere, his mind instantly leaping back to the pounding headache and the change in his memory back when he awoke in the infirmary four days ago. Why did he stop hating you with every fiber of his being previously? How did you do that? No matter what the others said, there was definitely something off about his sudden change of heart with regards to you, Sanzu knew without doubt, and he would get to the bottom of this.

For now, what he needed to figure out was what combination of begging and groveling would be enough to get Mikey to at least accept some water.

ㅤ

Yet just three hours later, Mikey’s situation had already taken a turn for the worse. Four days without food, let alone sleep, would do anyone in, and even the once undefeated Toman President was no exception. Now standing alone, consumed by the darkness of the last untrodden area in Bonten headquarters, Sanzu knew he was breaking every rule worth remembering, doing something so explicitly forbidden by his king. But as he rummaged through mostly empty cupboards and amidst the little belongings owned by the infinitely wealthy yakuza boss in a bid to find something, anything that could help, the black hole of spiraling thoughts that encompassed the events of the past thirty minutes overriding any awareness he had the items passing through his hands. 

After all, it had been him who had come across Mikey, his near-skeletal figure sprawled unconscious across plush carpets halfway down Executive Row, just meters away from the worn white door of his bedroom. It had been him who had scooped the man into his arms and rushed him down to the infirmary, grimly noting how the man weighed barely anything. And it had also been him, on his knees and his forehead to the ground, pleading with a conscious Mikey to allow the doctor to administer a fluid IV, only for the other to reject his fervent imploring with a simple turn of his head, those exhausted abyss eyes breaking from his teary green ones wordlessly to stare blankly at the ceiling. Because no words needed to be said for Sanzu to know what the boss demanded: he would accept nothing less than your return and your cooking.

Despite the white-haired man not being present, allowing the light from the hallway outside to pour into the usually unilluminated room - the gloom and morbidness just as Mikey likes it - felt too much like the discretion of such a sacred space to the ever-loyal Sanzu, though this did leave him to conduct his hunt with just the sliver of light that sipped in from under the door. The cold sweat that gathered and pooled on his palms was hastily wiped away on striped pants as the usually high second-in-command attempted to focus back on his searching, green eyes scanning around in a desperate attempt to find something that could help, a clue that could point to where you were, anything. 

This was all your fault. Was there nothing he could do but let fate play out?

It was only as Sanzu threw up his arms in exasperation did a glimmer from the furthest end of the room catch the corner of his eye; the small amount of light that reflected back seemed to sparkle even in the dark. The faintest shimmer of gold. What was that? A cautious few steps revealed the source to be a school bag - your school bag, judging from the neatly written name on the tag - that you had failed to take with you for whatever reason. And more importantly, hanging from the front of the bag from a zipper was that notorious purple-and-gold onomori that had him recoil his hand as if burnt. 

No doubt it was the same one that still haunted his every step, one that marked you as off-limits all those years ago on the threat of torture and death. Yet -

The Bonten man reached out, gripping the onomori with one fist. He vaguely remembered something from many years ago, maybe twelve or more, when you first disappeared, when you first gave him that bag of karaage. He had been the one to find your charm, and if his scrambled memory hasn’t failed him, the simple of act of picking up this charm had summoned you out of thin air. Though after holding it for a rough five minutes, Sanzu sighed, undoing the simple note that kept the charm tied to your bag before standing. He probably just dreamt that particular one up during one of his highs.

Still, the man noted as he wrapped the small item ever so carefully in a clean handkerchief and tucked it into his breast pocket, it was probably precious to Mikey. Something to lift his spirits a bit maybe, if it did nothing else - anything that would keep his king going until you could be located. 

And pressing it into said man’s weak hand later, and watching the charm disappear under sterile white blankets as Mikey retracted his thin arm, it was all too clear to Sanzu that the other was running out of time. If they don't find you soon, Mikey dies. 

Turning to leave his boss to his thoughts, the right-hand man decided that he didn’t quite enjoy all the stress. He could use a smoke about now.

ㅤ

ㅤ

The sight of the empty lot where your school building formerly sat brought that familiar gut-sinking feeling back to your abdomen, one that you didn’t think you would be feeling again. Running one hand through your hair, you let a sigh escape your lips. You were back in the future again, it seems. Whether this was the same future or a different one, or even if you had skipped ahead the same number of years was something that was beyond you at the moment, and you had even less on you this time then the previous incident, having been caught in your literal pajamas right as you were about to head to bed. Which came with a secondary problem, one that you found by simply looking up - it was still the middle of night.

The neighborhood where your school once was was silent as it always was at this time of day, with most students and adults alike usually asleep by this time of day. Slipping your phone out from your pocket, you noted that the battery was dead once more: was it just a side effect of the time leaping?

Patting down the rest of your pajamas only confirmed that you had none of your house keys on you unlike your previous experience, which only meant that you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Though heading back home wouldn’t be a bad idea if this was still the same timeline, and your feet started to carry you down familiar paths once more. Yes, you were sure at least someone would know you were back if you waited by the front door.

ㅤ

ㅤ

Takemichi let out an exasperated grunt, ruffling his hands through his hair. He had been back and forth from the future twice in the last four days alone, plus that disaster meeting with Draken, and nothing. No clues, no progress, nothing. You were still nowhere to be found. Kicking a stone down empty roads, the former Toman delinquent felt truly helpless for the first time. If his time leaping ability was being overridden by yours, then there was no point to what he was putting himself through - he couldn’t change the future until they could figure out how to stop yours.

And that meant…

The black-haired man shook his head vigorously in an attempt to stop his thoughts from going down that beckoning abyss. No, he couldn’t give up now. Taking a deep breath, Takemichi looked up, fists clenched determined by his side. 

It was the middle of the night now, and the streets were completely empty of souls, with the exception of him wandering down aimlessly. In the distant, an occasional rumble of the engine of a passing vehicle, though none passed his way. But Naoto had mentioned that this area was where your school once stood, plus you lived not too far away as well, and therefore if you were really a time leaper, then there was a high chance this was the place you would return to. It made sense, Takemichi agreed, but this was already the umpteeth time he had searched.

Pulling one hand down his face, a flash of hair in the distance caught the man’s eye before it quickly disappeared behind a wall, too fast for him to even register. That looked like…you? Was that a hallucination? 

A quick jog forward took Takemichi to the bend in the street, but when he looked round the corner, whatever trace of whoever it had been walking the roads was already gone.

ㅤ

ㅤ

Across the bustling city of Tokyo, Rindo froze mid-step. 

Yet the sudden lack of movement was lost on Ran. The evening traffic had yet to let up outside, the rumbling of cars and the occasional horn cutting through the unnatural silence that hung inside the tiny shop tucked just a street away from the main road, though it was precisely the quietness that had carried with it the promise of an earlier rest. Careful to avoid dirtying his shoes with blood, the older Haitani had already made his way to the exit, suit jacket casually swung over one shoulder, gun tucked away safely and out of his side under his vest. “Let’s head straight back to base, Rindo,” Ran groaned, running one hand through his short purple hair only to grimace upon realizing that said hand was caked with someone else’s blood. Today was really not going his way. “You can grab a drink at the rooftop bar or something, I don’t know.”

Yanking the front door open with a grunt, said Bonten executive didn’t stop to hear if there was a response from his younger brother, instead opting to step straight out and back onto the narrow side alley, the buzzing streetlight overhead as if a welcome back from the grim of that filthy store and its dead, traitorous owner. Taking a breath of the comparatively better smelling air outside, Ran stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants, pulling out a sole crumpled cigarette and a handful of change - but no lighter. Not even a match. Fuck this fucking disgusting job.

Ran turned, hand already outstretched. “Rindo, do you have a light -” And it was only then did it hit him that his brother had not followed him out. Rindo was still in the store for some goddamn reason, and he had to go back in there. The feared mafia officer sighed. This had better be important.

Alas, he spoke too soon.

“I think my memories just changed,” was seemingly all that Rindo could bring himself to mumble at the chime that came with the opening door, the man with the long purple hair still standing by the row of unpowered display refrigerators where Ran had last seen him, violet eyes staring down at the blood pooling around the cooling bodies sprawled on the floor. The stench of iron didn’t seem to bother the younger Haitani, too caught up in his jumbled mind as Rindo tried to make head or tail of what had just happened.

Ran, however, was far from impressed, simply propping both his hands on his hips and raising one eyebrow at that statement. “Did you get into Sanzu’s drug stash?”

The sheer vileness of that statement alone was enough to shake Rindo out from his own little world, with said man snapping straight back into reality ready for a fight. “How dare you-” the younger of the two let out a cough, the sudden thick smell of death and blood that made itself known to his previously oblivious nostrils choking up his airway momentarily. “How dare you say that.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to say when you talk dumb shit?”

“It’s not dumb shit, fuck you Ran! My memories changed!” Rindo insisted, carelessly stepping over the bodies at his feet, Ran wincing at the blood splattering up and all over his brother’s shoes. That would be a pain to clean later. 

But still, the older Haitani led the way back outside and into the fresher air of the alleyway, before turning around to better understand the situation his dear brother seemed to have found himself in. “Alright, if not pink pills, then what happened?”

Rindo himself still seemed to be struggling to make head or tail of what had just happened, letting out a groan as the man with the long purple hair rubbed his temple with one hand. “It was after we shot those two inside. All of a sudden, my head felt like it was about to explode for a second, and I suddenly knew…stuff. Things that I didn’t know before."

“Like what?”

“You know you were telling me about Mikey’s girl earlier?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’ve never met her, and before the job, I couldn’t tell you what color her hair was. I can pick her out from a line of schoolgirls now.”

“Oh.”

Violet eyes met each other, and as if on instinct, both men thought back to the Bonten infirmary just days earlier, where an eerily similar sentence had been muttered. Sanzu. Ran sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So it wasn’t the drugs.” This day was just getting worse and worse. “Let’s head back and sync up.”

“Sure,’ Rindo shrugged, scratching the back of his head as he nonchalantly followed his older brother, the purple-haired duo stepping out onto the busy main street and blending into the crowd, blood splattered shoes a distant thought. “I do remember her being pretty nice though.”

Ran raised an eyebrow, as he absentmindedly fiddled with his earring. “Pretty nice or pretty and nice?”

The younger Haitani audibly tsked, raising one leg to kick at the other’s. “You know what I said.”

ㅤ

The lighter, joky mood that the brothers shared didn’t last past their return to Bonten HQ, much to Ran’s disappointment, the usually silent place abuzz with a rare, panic atmosphere. Men and women alike dressed in neatly pressed suits rushing every which way, the small bulge under their suit jacket where their guns were strapped to an unspoken reminder of where they were - no doubt the communicators fixed to their ears were all but alight with barked orders and updates. Casually grabbing a passing grunt, it took a mere moment and single shouted objection for the poor soul to realize who exactly had grabbed him by the back of his shirt, the purple and green striped suits too iconic to be mistaken. “Ah- oh, Haitani-sama.”

“What’s going on?” Ran didn’t need to see through those dark sunglasses to see the other’s shifty look: the nameless Bonten grunt was definitely contemplating the chance of him being dead within the next five minutes as opposed to the next hour.

”Uh-“

Rindo reached threateningly into the depths of his suit, and sweat began to pour off the other’s forehead. “You know,” the younger of the two Haitanis started. “I’ve had a really bad day.”

”No, please, Haitani-sama, I’m not sure-“

Fortunately for all three men involved, the interrogation was brought to quick and uneventful close with the appearance of an all-too familiar mob of pink hair just as Rindo pulled a lollipop out to pop into his mouth. The grunt was let go to scramble off as both sets of violet eyes snapped to the unusual sight of Sanzu impatiently tapping his foot soundlessly against the plush carpet of the foyer, smoking cigarette held between scarred lips as the man looked around before glancing once more at his watch. 

A smirk instantly began to pull at Ran’s lips as he stuffed both hands into the pockets of his pants, strolling over. “Oh Sanzu~”

“I’m busy,” came the other’s curt reply, green eyes looking Ran up and down a mere moment before turning away.

”We know, we know,” the man with the short purple hair pacified. “It’s just that-“

Rindo quickly butted in, having closely followed his older brother over. It was clear that Sanzu, far from his usual drugged up and easily bullied state, actually had things to do and places to be. “My memories changed.”

Sanzu’s unusually alert gaze slid over once more to meet Rindo’s, and it seemed the severity of what the younger Haitani said set in quickly as his eyes steeled. “Mine did too. Again,” the Bonten second-in-command disclosed, though he said no more as the glass doors of the foyer slid open and Kakucho stepped out, gloved hand lightly touching where his gun was strapped to his chest under his jacket. “We’ll talk about this later. House alarm tripped again.”

Ah, your little pick-up party, Ran noted from the side, watching the two top Bonten executives slip effortlessly into a black, featureless car that quickly pulled away from the compound. So you were back - and your arrival must have something to do with the changing memories.

How interesting.

ㅤ

ㅤ

Across town, Draken cursed out loud as his feet flew over concrete paths down empty streets. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You were a fucking time leaper.

He had been working late on a client’s bike as he always did, the closed garage a quiet refuge after the hustle of the normal work day. The headache had hit him like a clap of thunder, with his brain feeling it was pressing up against his skull; and memories of twelve years past suddenly started to flood back, a recollection he couldn’t control. But they were all memories that he didn’t previously have, freshly added memories: some of your reappearance in his past, some of a fight he never recalled having with the other Toman founders, and most importantly, memories of you telling them what had happened.

It changed him, Draken admitted. It gave him a renewed hope that he didn’t remember possessing, that they might be able to fix this entire mess, that you were somewhere out there. All this time you were missing - it was true. You couldn’t control it like you had admitted. But if the past him still had that onomori, then why were you back in the future? 

Turning a corner, a quick step aside was the only thing that kept him from running straight into someone else, though those fast, honed reflexes also almost had Draken swinging his fist into an all-too familiar face. 

Baji was panting as if he had ran a full marathon, his apron half undone and left swinging from his neck, his hand clutching his open phone. It seemed like the other Toman founder had been struck with the same revelations, Draken determined, judging from the half-dressed state he was in. 

And then those two fateful words tumbled from Baji’s lips. “Time leaper.”

[luxuki-1]

Like I said I would, I'm going to go through the details I hid in my recent FNAF painting. Not because anyone asked, but because I want to and I'm proud of everything put in

1. Michael's design is my own! I've pretty much had the same concept for the design since SB came out. I just really liked the idea of having part of his jaw missing for no particular reason other than it looks cool. But, I have since moved the jaw gap to the other side, as well as defining scars and wrinkles.

2. I've already posted Golden Freddy but here he is again. I redrew the original poster since I really didn't feel like I just should just slap the original on there. Since I had that freedom now, I decided to make references in the design to later games since it is appearing as a hallucination(?) to Michael. Obviously there are blood stains around the mouth to reference The Bite of '83 and I also added tear stains to reference Evan/CC, said victim of the bite.

3. The classic "Celebrate!" poster. The same thing with Golden Freddy, I didn't feel like I should copy and paste the original so I drew it myself, but this time I only drew the bottom half of the crew since you'd only see that part anyway. Maybe one day I'll fully recreate the poster but for now, this is it lol (You may also notice that I gave each of them different leg shapes, to make them more distinguished from each other other than just colour)

4. And again, didn't want to just copy and paste, so I re-typed all of the newspaper clippings myself in Canva. They say pretty much the same thing as the originals, but I'll still put them here anyway in case anyone wants to take a look:

5. I also recreated the children's drawings myself. Fun fact: I actually used my NON-dominant hand to draw most the basic shapes. I figured that if I drew with my dominant hand, the lines might look too clean, showing my obvious years experience. It's silly but I really wanted it to look and feel like a child drew it

6. It ends up being pretty much invisible in the final painting, but on the floor you can see old confetti and blood stains on the tiles

7. If it wasn't obvious; cup from the Security office is here too

8. Now it should it obvious by now that I chose to not draw the security office. Why you ask? I'm still new to drawing more detailed backgrounds, and I really didn't feel like drawing the office in the moment lol so I opted for the hallway, and I think it still looks pretty good with what I was going for

9. As a bonus, here's the original sketch I planned out. As you can see, I was originally planning to have more posters, some featuring the missing children. But in the end, I decided to scrap it and leave room for the wall to be more detailed since I thought it looked bare. Also, if you look closely, you can see a faint plan for a shadow over Mike. I was originally planning to put a shadow of Freddy there, but when I really started finishing up the shading, I realised that the extra shadow would be too much for an already dimly lit scene

And that's pretty much everything! I had so much fun doing all the little details and references, even though it did end up being more time consuming lol. I also tried out a bunch of different rendering techniques and I think they really helped pulled everything together. I'm definitely going to try my hand and making more paintings like this in the future ^^

If interested in seeing the full process, here's a link to the speed-paint:

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Moonlight Sunrise (Part 2)

Minatozaki Sana x reader

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

GENRE: angst, fluff, non-idol

TYPE: Short fic

You could feel the warmth emanating through the wooden doors of the hub, followed by muffled roars of laughter and conversation.

Momo had invited you for a drink in the local pub the night before the start of the event. You had spent the day training and preparing yourself, and you also did some shopping, buying food to pack for the event as it may last up to several weeks, depending on whether any contenders are alive.

Taking a deep breath to brace yourself, you pushed open the door and walked in.

The chatter died down immediately the moment you stepped in, with all of the men looking at you menacingly and with a hint of fear. War heroes, knights, and even thieves were there, all wanting a piece of the treasure. They had nothing in common in terms of background, only one thing—they saw you as their biggest threat.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice called from the back of the pub, Momo. "Over here."

You slowly made your way towards her, hands deep in the pockets of your coat. Some of the people stood up as you passed them, afraid yet trying their best to show their dominance.

You heard one of the groups of people make a move to draw out their weapons as soon as your back was turned, and you swiftly drew out your poison-soaked dagger. Skillfully dodging his swing, you silently and swiftly had your dagger at his throat.

The crowd fell silent, tension thick in the air, as beads of sweat formed on the scarred man's brow.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He cried out, craning his head to look at his leader for help.

His leader, a blurry hard-faced man, simply looked away and sat down.

"Now now, Y/N," Momo sighed, getting up from her seat and tugging you to release the man. "Let's not kill anyone before the competition."

Reluctantly, you relented, allowing the man to stumble backward and collapse onto the wooden floor.

"But feel free to hunt as many down in the labyrinth," Momo mused with a mischievous glint in her eyes, laughing when she saw the rest of the people shuffle uneasily.

The crowd cleared within seconds, leaving the bar now half empty.

"What a way to clear the crowd, I'm impressed," a soft voice called from the table Momo was originally sitting at, and you looked over to find another of your past colleagues and close friend of your sister, Minjeong.

Minjeong trained with you, your sister Yeji, and Momo at the same academy, spending most of your childhood together under the same master. She was skilled in poison and herbs, choosing to leave the academy as soon as she turned 16 to set off on a journey to learn more in this area. You hadn't seen her since.

You did, however, hear stories about her once in a while—how she turned into a master of poison and started her own academy at the young age of 21. Most of the weapons infused with poison, like the very one you had, were developed by her. Her name was now Winter, possessing a beauty as captivating and alluring as the first snowfall of the season. Her features were delicate yet sharp, like the frost that kissed the landscape with its icy touch. But beneath her stunning exterior lay a darkness, a chill that could freeze the hearts of those who crossed her path. As all of the people who had unfortunately come in contact with her dangerously poisonous infused blade, only managed to utter "cold as winter" before they hit the ground dead.

Contrary to what you had heard about her through these past few years, the tall girl was here, smiling goofily, grabbing you into a familiarly tight hug.

"I missed you, Y/N unnie."

You returned the gesture affectionately, feeling a surge of nostalgia. Minjeong had always been like a younger sister to you, a role she embraced wholeheartedly during your time at the academy.

"You've grown tall, baby rabbit." 

She let out a laugh and dragged you and Momo to sit down with her. "That's exactly what Momo unnie told me when she saw me."

Momo simply glared at her with her arms crossed in front of her.

You let out a sigh. This was the face she made whenever someone was about to do something stupid.

"What are you doing here, Minjeongie?"

"Same reason as you. I'm going into the labyrinth."

"No," you said simply, shaking your head, with Momo nodding in agreement. "That's too dangerous."

"Whyyy," Minjeong whined, her tone childlike despite her lethal reputation, "I'm fully capable."

"We know you are, Min. It's just that it's too much of a risk. No one knows what's in the labyrinth," Momo tried to appease the younger girl. "Besides, what could you possibly want from the labyrinth? Money? We can provide that, just tell us how much you need."

The younger girl pouted. Seeing this menacing girl acting so childish must have been bizarre for the people she hunted down.

"I have money. I just really need this material that's rumored to be in the labyrinth," she paused, before quietly muttering, "the ashes of voidlings."

"Absolutely not," Momo hissed, "are you out of your mind?"

Minjeong looked at you pleadingly. She knew you were always the one to relent and fall for her maknae charms.

"If Y/N unnie is with me, it will be safe."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Not this time. Voidlings are not creatures you can kill. Even Master Kim said to flee when we encounter one."

Voidlings originated from dark witchcraft, when a spellbounder cast the darkest, most evil curse on a deceased, turning them into beings of the dark, preying on fear and weakness. These beings were created only if the deceased was filled with enough anger and hatred, making them powerful and nearly unbeatable. There has been no sure way to defeat these creatures. Nearly every person who encountered them died on the spot, let alone survived long enough to defeat them and gather their ashes.

Desperate, Minjeong blurted out the reason she swore to keep secret. "It's for Yeji."

"What?" You paused, putting down your mug and looking at the young girl.

"What about Yeji?" Momo asked, completely out of the loop. You hadn't told her the reason why you were here.

"Yeji wrote me a letter a few weeks ago, asking me for help. She wanted me to accompany Y/N unnie into the labyrinth, saying it was too dangerous for anyone to go alone. She told me you were going for her, and that was when she told me about her illness."

"She's sick? Wha-when? How?" Momo furrowed her brows in concern. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"She's been sick for two years now, and it's getting worse," you lowered your eyes, staring at the droplets that formed on the outside of your mug. "She was poisoned by one of the unknown beings in the far eastern territory, and no one has a way to cure her. That's why I was hoping to find the Luminite stone—you get one wish, right? Maybe this would work."

"My students and I have been trying to figure out a counterpoison for that, and I need the ashes of voidlings," Minjeong patted your hand in comfort, "If the stone doesn’t work, we can try for this."

The three of you sat in silence, each one lost in your thoughts, weighed down by the news like thick clouds pressing down. With every passing moment, the heaviness in the air grew, filling the room with uncertainty and a sense of foreboding that stretched into the late hours of the night. It was as if the very atmosphere held its breath, anticipating some ominous revelation lurking just beyond reach.

After much contemplation and discussion, you and Minjeong came to an agreement, despite Momo's disagreement. If you failed to find the stone within a week, Minjeong would enter the labyrinth and help you find and defeat a voidling. None of you were happy this decision, but this was the only way to save Yeji.

"It's late, you have a big day tomorrow," Momo yawned, rubbing her eyes. Minjeong was already fast asleep with her head drooped over the table.

"Yeah, I have one more stop to make," you said rising out of your seat, "Can you let me into the castle?"

"You know I can't do that, Y/N," Momo sighed before lifting the sleeping girl in her arms.

"Please. There's someone I need to say thank you to."

"Fine," the head of security relented. "Minjeong is crashing at my place anyway."

The three of you slowly made your way down the empty pebbled roads, the moonlight guiding the way, just like old times when you would leave training and head back to the dorms together. However, this time, there was a noticeable absence – Yeji.

"By the way, what's Princess Sana's favorite food?" 

"What the fuck, Y/N? Be quiet or we're going to get caught." 

"Please?" 

"Fine. Apples I think. Anything apple flavored."  

"Nice." 

"Shut up." 

.

.

.

.

Pushing open the familiar run-down wooden door, you found the space in front of the labyrinth deserted, as expected. You had a feeling the princess didn't want to be seen, especially after giving you that fake name.

Silently, you walked towards the metal bars and peered into the dark misty abyss again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blonde girl. Instead, you saw only eerie shadows that seemed too haunting to be her. You definitely didn't want to come in contact with any of those beings.

Deciding to call it a night, you reached into your knapsack and pulled out a bottle of apple cider along with some small cakes bought at the market earlier that day. Placing them on the bench where you had sat together the day before, you wanted to thank the princess for her compass, even if you weren't sure if it was real or not.

Before you could make your way back, a familiar soft voice cut through the whooshing sounds emanating from the black clouds within the labyrinth.

"Hwang."

Turning, you found Luna sitting on top of the towering metal bars, swinging her barefoot legs casually.

"Hey."

She jumped down from the metal wall, landing gently with a thud.

"Couldn’t resist visiting me, huh?" She chuckled, eyeing the items on the bench. "Ooooo apple cider!"

She eagerly tore open the bottle and took a swig, resembling a little kid on Christmas morning. You couldn’t help but soften at her endearing behavior.

"It's just to thank you for giving me the compass."

"How do you know if I'm not fooling you?" She turned to look at you, a piece of cake still in her mouth.

"I don't," you said honestly, "but I'm willing to take that risk."

"For an assassin, you're oddly trusting," Luna mused, before splitting one of the cakes and passing it to you.

"How did you-"

"I hear your name once in a while in the labyrinth, Hwang." Luna giggled at your bewilderment, before lowering her voice as if she was an announcer. "The greatest assassin of the century, Hwang Y/N, the NightWalker. Some of the competitors talked about you, 'What would the NightWalker do in this situation?', 'Oh no, I'm cornered, if only I could walk on water like the NightWalker.'"

Your face flushed with embarrassment as she teased you, her laughter echoing through the empty space.

"Shut up," you nudged her with your shoulder.

She no longer felt like a monster; she felt like the cheerful princess people always talked about in their stories.

Luna put her fingers to her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles.

"Besides, it's a win-win situation if I get the stone," you shrugged, biting into the cake, the sweet-savory invading your taste buds.

"How so?"

"You're Princess Sana, aren't you?" You laughed at her surprised expression. "It says on the compass. If I win, I promise you'll be able to see the sunlight whenever you want. I have no interest in locking you by my side."

Instantly, the carefree girl in front of you shifted to the defensive half-human being. Sana's eyes glowed red once again, and you felt your body constrict, as if a rope was squeezing you tightly. She was looking for any lies behind your eyes. She found none.

"Sorry," she muttered, releasing you from her stare. You simply waved her off.

"I can't see the sunrise either way. I'm bound to the stone," she murmured softly, her delicate features cast in a faint glow from the moonlight.

As she spoke, her shoulders hunched slightly, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes of the weight she carried. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter in sympathy for the beautiful being before you, her words tinged with a hint of melancholy.

"The moonlight will be the only light I see for the rest of my life."

"I'll figure out a way. I always do," you promised.

Sana looked up to meet your eyes, her own remaining human and soft this time. In that moment, her gaze held a sense of vulnerability. You found yourself momentarily lost in her soft honey hues, the warmth of her gaze enveloping you. A faint blush tinged her cheeks as she met your stare, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between you.

"You're an odd one, NightWalker."

"As are you, Princess." you replied, unable to resist a teasing tone.

"Don't call me that," she muttered, trying to hide her smile, but her eyes betrayed her amusement.

You spent another hour or two talking to Sana, enjoying her company and the lighthearted banter that momentarily lifted the weight from your shoulders.

"It's almost sunrise. I have to go," Sana announced, stretching as she rose to her feet. "You should get some rest too, Y/N."

You nodded, following suit and standing up.

The princess grinned and extended her hand in a handshake. "Partners?"

"Partners," you agreed, shaking her hand firmly. Her touch sent a shiver down your spine, despite the warmth of the night.

Satisfied, with a hint of pink on her cheeks, Sana turned to make her way back towards the labyrinth, her figure gradually disappearing into the darkness.

"You better bring me some more of those cakes, Hwang," she called back before vanishing completely.

"Aye-aye, Princess," you replied, unable to resist one last teasing remark.

"Don't call me that!" she retorted with a laugh, her voice echoing faintly in the night.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Cute filler chapter this time 😉

[beautouslysandy]

Truly Yours-1

Mark Sloan x GN!Reader

By-Sandy <3

-You and Mark Sloan have been together really since high school, you guys were on and off for a while at least till you went to college then things smoothed out and you and him have been together for the long run ever since, or so you thought. -You have known Derek and Mark since junior high you were a close trio of best friends, y'all were inseparable. "You are un..unbelievable!" You screamed as hot tears ran down your face.

You and Mark were standing apart from each other, he had a look of guilt and regret. You had just learned that your husband slept with Addison Montgomery-Shepard, your best friend's wife, you felt betrayed, used, oblivious, and foolish.

"Babe...I am sorry, I am truly sorry." Mark said with a look of guilt plastered onto that ridiculously handsome face of his.

You scoffed and took deep breath trying to compose yourself but as expected you failed..."I am sorry?! You have taken my heart out my chest, hit it with a hammer and threw it out the window!" You sobbed and said "You have thrown my love away like its nothing..." You sniffled and took a deep breath

"Y/N Sloan, I love you more than anyone could ever imagine..." He said softly walking up towards you.

"No, you don't." You said coldly backing away from him.

He froze and put his hands behind his head, you looked around seeing all the moving boxes in your new and fresh home. Y'all just moved in a month ago but haven't had time to unpack fully. Now you had a real reason not to.

"I am moving out..." You stated with a sniffle "We are over." You also stated wiggling your beautiful ring off.

You heard Mark trying to hold back his tears and he failed "Y/N, please..."

"Till death do us part, huh?" You said crying and putting the ring of your dreams on the clean marble kitchen counter. " I will have someone come and get my stuff tomorrow." You said looking him in the eyes one last time, the dreamy blue eyes that drew you in when you met him. You know he is the one. Sorry, that in past tense.

----

"Y/N?" You heard a familiar voice say.

"Huh?" You said coming back from your daydream, you turn to see your best friend, Derek Shepard, y'all have been friends since junior high along with Mark Sloan but he wasn't in the equation at the moment.

"You, okay?" He asked with a face of worry.

Derek met someone a couple of weeks or months ago, he got over the whole spouse cheating thing quicker than you did. You can't blame him he met someone new, someone who was better with him, they made since together. Addison and Derek only knew each other for a handful of years while you and Mark have been on and off since sophomore year of high school. You and Mark had history together, and Mark just threw that away.

"Yeah..." You said with a sigh "Just tired, didn't get much sleep last night.

You and Derek needed to get out of New York, you both got offers at Seattle Grace Hospital. For you it was Head Attending of Ortho (lets pretend Caliee stays a resident, okay?) and for him it was Head Attending of Neruo .

"You have been saying that since we got here..." He said softly looking through a chart of one his patients.

" Yeah Yeah.." You said looking off into a far wondering what your life would be like if Mark didn't tell you the truth, it would have come out one way or another, right?

"Y/N, you need to get over him." Derek said coldly closing the chart aggressively

"I am, on my time..." You said walking away.

----

You were on the elevator waiting for it to get to the surgical floor, you hated elevators, you don't like being quiet in one place for to long, you think to much about your thoughts. And right now, you didn't want to think about what you always thought about...that night.

"I am moving out..." You stated with a sniffle "We are over." You also stated wiggling your beautiful ring off.

You heard Mark trying to hold back his tears and he failed "Y/N, please..."

The elevator doors opened with a ping and you walk out to find Addison Montgomery-Shepard talking to Derek. You hate her with all of your heart no all of your body. Your heart, your pelvis, your spine, your aorta, your brain, your skeleton, and all of the above.

You walked over head high and confident this husband stealing bitch will not get the best of you. You aren't going to burst into tears. No. New Y/N would not. But new Y/N doesn't think about her cheating husband all the time. Thats when it hit you, you haven't officially divorced Mark. Then it hit you again. You had to divorce Mark, your Mark. The love of your life, your other half, your soulmate, the one, your husband, your partner in crime, your person, your best of friend.

You hadn't realized you were standing in the middle of the Surgical Floor, with a tear running down your cheek. You sniffled and tried to make your way past Addison and Derek without getting involved but then again you are involved in every bit.

You walked up to them and look her in the eye and said "What are you, doing here, Addison?" You said faking cheeriness.

She never saw you after the whole thing.

Her face turned white, and she said "Hey, Y/N..." with an apologetic smile.

"I asked, what are you doing here?" You said with a fake smile and saw Derek on the verge of a grin.

"Um..the chief-" She mumbled

"Huh?" You interrupted, Addison for some reason was intimated by you, which doesn't make sense because she let your husband cheat on you with her, sooooo?

"The Chief of Surgery asked if I would like to be the Head Attending of Neonatal Surgery (look it up, it's cool) here at Seattle Grace." She said a little bit louder and confidante.

"Interesting. Derek, we have patient." You said looking at Derek.

"Ah, yes." He said walking to the patient room with you following behind him.

----

It been a generous number of horrid weeks with Addison Montogomery, she has been on multiple of your patient cases. You're going crazy.

You were in the cafeteria with Bailey, she is your only real friend, because apparently Derek is giving Addison a second chance. Ridicloius.

"Thats the whole, story?" Bailey asked as she digged into her lunch.

"Yeah, the worst story that is happens to my life." You sighed biting into your sandwich.

"No. It's a horrible event that happened in your life, there's a difference. Neither is great but there's a difference." She said looking your eyes with seriousness.

"I know, just being dramatic. How are your interns?" You replied putting your sandwich do as you were no longer hungry.

"Their annoying and quite frankly a bit clingy whatsoever but they will most likely do fine."

You laughed at her reply, "They tend to be like that." You found your eyes at Derek and Addison at their own separate table, laughing, like nothing even remotely happened.

You sighed, "I can't watch that, sorry Bailey." You said with an apologetic smile, getting up and grabbing barely touched lunch to throw it away.

"It's fine. Go hop on a surgery, it will make feel better." She said.

"Thanks." You called walking out of the cafeteria.

You were looking over a new patient's chart to make sure you understand and knew the case well. You were on a gurney which abandoned in the halls. You heard some chattering from the front desk as you were hall that wrapped around it.

(By the way, you go by Dr. L/N-Sloan. You used to go by Dr. Sloan fully but...)

"Do you know where I can find a Dr. Sloan?" A distanced familiar deep voice asked.

A nurse at the front desk replied with "Dr. L/N-Sloan? They are in the hall over there."

"Ah. Thanks." He replied with a tone of sadness.

Then it clicked the familiar deep voice, you pondered and pondered who it belonged to...Mark Sloan. It made even more sense, when you and him made eye contact.

I have to get out of here, I have to get out of here. Is what you said in your head as you swiftly walked away but he caught up and grabbed your arm.

"Can I at least say hi, to my spouse." He said softly, turning you around to face him.

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic) Fem reader x Micheal ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Cursing, blood, death, child birth, drinking, alcohol, talks of war, guns, Tommy Shelby ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) ( Also Y/N is on dick, IDKY she acts like this)

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 

There is month and week time just in here, this is the only part where I would do that cause I had a lot to fit in. Because I had a lot of fit in, I have to add another part so too much won’t be going on all in one part. Also this is bit of a filler for that time jump from the end of season two to the beginning of season three

Part 1  Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  part 6

*******************************************

Although you didn't see Thomas again for nearly a year, you knew he was there watching you, keeping tabs on you. You had seen Arthur more than you had seen Thomas; he'd often come in, all cut up and in need of stitching.

 You still remember the first time you met Arthur; you were busy with a patient in one of the ER exam rooms when one of your fellow nurses slid back the curtain.

"Hi, excuse us. I need to borrow her for a second," She said, smiling towards the patient as she grabbed your arms, pulling you out and sliding the curtain back.

"What" 

"You've been asked for by name, exam room three. I'll take over here."

"Why, what's going on”You asked confused.

She shrugged her shoulders, 

 "All I know is that it's a peaky fellow, a Shelby, to be exact." 

She went back into the exam room, but you stood still. Thomas, he's here to see you? You were confused, if he wanted to meet, he could've just come to your apartment; he did know where you lived. 

Then it clicked ,he's hurt again; he has to be. 

You turned and started to walk down the hall towards the third exam room. Walked…. ran the same thing.

Soon, you were standing in front of the curtain to exam room three. You took a deep breath as you smoothed your outfit out. 

You don't know why you were so nervous to see him; you felt kinda silly; you had literally performed surgery on this man and dressed him.

 You shook your head, then quickly pulled back the curtain before you could change your mind. 

You’re puzzled because the man sitting in front of you is not Thomas Shelby. 

"Hi," you drew out, unsure who this man was and what he wanted with you.

"Oi, you the girl that took care of Tommy when he was here?" he asked, all chipper despite his ear being split, cuts on his face, and blood being littered all over his body.

You shook your head slowly, still unsure where this was going

"Tommy sent me here to get patched up; he said you were, uh, sympathetic to the cause." That made you laugh a bit 

"I guess I am; let's see what's going on here, Mr.Shelby." You stepped into the room, closed the curtain behind you, and went to the table to find some gloves.

"It's Arthur"

"Oh, Arthur, and who is Thomas to you again?" 

You pulled the stool underneath you as you began to clean the cuts on his face with some wipes. 

"He's my brother; I'm the oldest, then Tommy, and then John, and last Finn."

You made a face; you didn't know Thomas had a brother, let alone three; in all the stories you heard about Peaky Blinders, only Thomas had been brought up. 

You continued to clean Arthur up, and as you did so, you asked a million questions like where they grew up, how old they were, and how betting even worked. 

You have learned so much from Arthur in the past 30 minutes about the business and Thomas than you would have ever thought. 

Arthur was so talkative, he answered all your questions, he honestly was a bit too happy, you had assumed he was on something but wasn't sure. 

He had just gotten done telling you a story about when he and Tommy were younger when you finished his last stitch.

"It sounds like loads of fun," you said, cutting the string to the last stitch. 

"Yeah, it was different back then; Tommy was different back then. " 

You had wanted to ask what he meant, but he had gotten up before you could. He walked over to the mirror to look at his face; as he did so, you pulled some cream out of the draw for him. 

"Here, make sure you put this cream on so you won't scar." 

"Ahhh, thanks, Doc; Tommy told us whenever we need fixin' to come to you, and you didn't disappoint." 

"And how is Tommy? Is he all healed up?" Part of you just wanted to say his nickname out loud, and another hoped that Arthur would continue his over-sharing streak. 

"Yeah, all good; you know our Tommy strong as a horse," He said before walking away. 

You smiled and waved to him, watching him walk away. Our Tommy that made you giggle and smile like an idiot. You started to clean up your mess and wipe stuff down when you suddenly stopped, and your smile dropped. 

It had just dawned on you, but It was too late; he was far too gone when you realized. What did he mean by Tommy told us whenever they needed fixin' to come to you. You were hoping it didn't mean what you had thought, but it did. 

To say you were overworked was an understatement; you couldn't have imagined first how many men were peaky blinders and second how often they got hurt. 

Every time you turned around, your patient was a peaky boy, saying Tommy had sent them to get fixed up. Some of these men came into the hospital standing even though they had cuts the size of your arm on their bodies. They were bleeding out, but they remained calm like it was just another Tuesday, and soon, so did you because eventually, it was just another Tuesday. 

You and Arthur became close; you would even say you became friends. You saw him often; either he was in for himself, getting more stitches, or he was dropping off a person to get help. And on those sad, rare days, he was picking up a body, someone you couldn't save. 

You and Arthur talked a lot about everything and anything; you felt like his priest with the kind of things he confessed to you. How he felt the business was going, how he was still messed up from the war, how lonely he was. 

On those days, you would just listen to him talk and give him a hug after; you knew he needed it. Your relationship truly felt like brother and sister, and you couldn't have been more happy about it, seeing as you are an only child. 

Arthur and Thomas were the only Shelby brothers you had the pleasure of meeting. Polly and Ada, you have not, but Arthur said you shouldn't because they don't get involved in dirty business. Finn was far too young; he often just hung back, and Micheal Polly's son only handled legitimate business. 

So you were pretty shocked when you had been requested, and Michael Gray was behind the curtain. 

"You the peaky doc."  

"I am." You had tried to tell the boys that you were only a nurse, but none of them listed, so you just accepted the nickname.

He nodded and started to take his shirt off; he had bruises and cuts all over his body. One big cut on his stomach and one on his forehead; that's the ones you will be focusing on. You put your gloves on and got to work; you cleaned the cut on his stomach a bit before starting your stitches.

Your head was down the whole time you stitched him, but you still knew he was staring at you; you felt it, and the way he looked down at you made you slightly uncomfortable. 

Once you finished the stitches, you stood up from the stool, making you come face to face with him.

His eyes were quite different from Tommy's; you didn't know yet if it was in a good way or bad.

He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you, then looked down at your name tag before looking back up at you.

"Can I smoke in here?"

"Sure, and do you mind if I stand right here? It's the only way I can reach," you said, pointing to in between his legs. 

He took a long drag of his cig before responding, "Whatever you want, doc."

Even from this position, you had to stand on your toes; he was pretty tall. You were pulling a stitch through when you almost fell, but Micheal had placed his hand on your back, keeping you upright. 

You cleared your throat. "Thanks" 

He just nodded at you with his hand still on your back

"Tommy pays your rent, right? I've seen your name in the books."

"Yeah" 

"I always had thought he did that cause you to stitch the boys up with no questions asked and no coppers involved." 

You just smiled back, unsure what to say 

"But now I'm not so sure."

"What do you mean"

At this point, you were on your last couple of stitches 

"You have your own protection detail; he sends his most important men to you, and he pays your rent."

You knew about the rent and never paid much mind to why Tommy started sending his men; you'd just assumed that it was your payment for free rent. A protection detail, though, you were confused; Micheal had to be mistaken. You'd never seen anyone following you, or maybe that was the point. 

You tied the thread before cutting it,  all while Micheal's hand remained behind your back; you looked down at him and asked. 

"Why"

He shrugged his shoulders, taking one last drag before putting the cig out on the tray behind you.

He blew his smoke to the side before saying, "Tommy takes care of his own; he protects what's his." 

You were stunned, but Micheal didn't allow you to process. He stood up, putting on his shirt before walking towards the door.

"Thanks, doc," he yelled as he left

You smiled and nodded back before turning around and cleaning up.

Had you really made that much of an impression on Tommy, you were confused and stuck, your mind racing to solve this riddle. If you had left such an impression, why hadn't you seen him in weeks? Not even so much as flowers or Arthur playing playing messenger, nothing. Micheal had to be wrong. 

But what if he wasn't? What angle was Tommy playing? What was his end goal? 

Your head was starting to hurt, maybe cause you were tired or cause your brain had been overworked trying to figure out what this man wanted from you. You decide to go back to work cause, whatever was happening, you wouldn't figure it out.  

*******************************************

It had been a little over nine months after your visit from Micheal that you saw Tommy again. 

You had been requested at his house, Arthur came and got you. This house wasn't in Birmingham it was nice and big, a mansion. You knew why you were here. Arthur had been keeping you up to date with all the Tommy and Grace drama. After Arthur told you about Grace and her and Tommy's Past and present, you knew that Micheal was wrong. 

He couldn't have been more wrong cause here you are, arriving at Tommy's house about to see him for the first time in a year to help deliver his baby.  

"There already a doctor there, you say," you asked Arthur as he helped you out of the car. 

"Yes, Tommy said he still wants you there, though."

You didn't understand why you had to be there if a doctor was already there, someone who has had more schooling than you and should hold more knowledge. 

Arthur had led you through the house, at first he got lost, it was a big house, but soon he found his way and plus it wasn't hard you just followed the screams and cursing. 

You should have braced yourself before entering the room, but you had thought you would be fine; you weren't.

As soon as you opened the door, all eyes were on you, including Tommy's, his eyes which you hadn't seen in so long; they were so intense. 

He was standing next to Grace, who was lying on the bed; he was holding her hand, blood smeared on his shirt. Two women were on the opposite side of him next to Grace, two women you assumed to be Polly and Esme. 

You kind of just stood there, unsure of what to do and a bit scared. Grace's head popped from behind the doctor who stood in between her propped-up legs. 

"Arthur, would you shut the door" Grace yelled

He laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't see anything, Tommy; go on, Doc." He gave you a push as he shut the door. 

"Umm, where can I help?" you asked, and it was clear that you were nervous, but you hoped they thought it was because of the situation and not because of what it actually was, Tommy.

"The doctor is saying the baby is trying to come out feet first and that he must cut her open. Polly and Esme say that the baby can be turned, and if she is cut, she will bleed out." Thomas said as he rubbed his face; he was trying to hide it, but you could tell he was nervous.

"OK, OK, OK, Excuse me, I need to assess Grace to see which option is better." You placed your bag down and pulled out some gloves before approaching Grace.

"OK, Grace, I'm just going to see where the baby is at," You said as you reached up in her cervix, checking for the baby, and it was trying to come out feet first. You pulled out of her before speaking again.

"OK, Grace, the baby is coming feet first, but it's still far up, so I think we have a good chance at turning it around. It will be painful, but it's better than cutting you open and risking you bleeding out."

"Well, I can't do that, and I still believe that a c-section is the way to go; I've done many and have had many successes." The doctor tried to argue, but you knew that the risk of her bleeding out was higher than her not. 

"I can do it. Trust me, Grace, I can do it."

"Are you even a doctor?" the doctor asked. 

"No, but that doesn't matter. Grace, what do you want."

Graces looked between you and the doctor before looking up at Thomas, who was looking at you. And for the first time since you stepped into this room, you looked at him in the eyes. You nodded slightly, telling him you had this; he stared at you a little longer before telling you to go ahead. 

You got right to work pushing on Grace's stomach, pushing the baby's head, and slowly turning the baby. She screamed in pain, and Thomas held her hand, encoring her along; after 30 minutes, you finally got the baby in the correct position. You would’ve let Grace take a much-needed break, but she said she felt the need to push and couldn't hold back. 

"OK, Grace, that's fine. Push." You got back between her legs and sat on the stool at her feet.

It only took two pushes, and the baby was out, but It wasn't breathing; you panicked, and everyone looked at you scared. Except for Thomas, he looked at you in a way you can't describe as anything other than murderous. 

You held the baby in your hands, quickly walking over to the dresser and placing the baby down before grabbing the suction ball from your bag below you. You sucked the goo from the baby's mouth and throat and ran your knuckles across his chest. 

The baby still didn't cry out, and you were nervous. Had you pushed on its head too hard? You had never done it yourself, only seen it done, but-

The baby coughed and let out a cry; relief flooded your body, and tears slipped from your eyes. You cleaned the baby before turning around and walking over to Thomas.

"Here you go, Mr.Shelby, a beautiful, healthy baby boy." 

For the first time ever, you saw Tommy smile, like a full ear-to-ear smile, as you handed him his son. You smiled to yourself before stepping away and collecting your things. You looked at the doctor who stood in the corner, flipping him off before saying.

"You can handle the rest, right, or do you need help with that too?" 

He rolled his eyes at you before walking to Grace to clean her up.

You opened the door and saw Michael, Arthur, who you assumed to be John and Finn, and many more waiting outside the door.

"Grace is fine." 

"And," Arthur asked. 

"And it's a- " 

"It's a boy," Thomas said, interrupting you, you turned around, and he was standing right behind you. 

"Congratulations," You said to Tommy. 

"Thank you," he said back before he got rushed with a bunch of hugs.

You went down the steps, deciding to wait for Arthur outside, and truth be told, you needed some air not only because of Tommy but also because that was the most ballsy thing you had ever done in your career. You just delivered a baby, all on your own. 

You weren't waiting on the steps outside long when you heard the door open, and you stood up, brushing the dirt off yourself, slowly turning around.

"I thought you had gotten lost again. Arthur thought I had to come to find yo-"You stopped your sentence abruptly, seeing as Arthur wasn't the one standing in front of you.

"Micheal, where's Arthur?"

"I had asked him if it was alright if I took you home." 

"Oh, OK, let's go," You said before hopping in the car, with Micheal right behind you, sliding next to you in the driver's seat.

The drive back was quiet, and soon you were back at your house; you hopped out of the car and walked towards your apartment building, Micheal right behind you.

"You don't have to walk me to my door, Micheal; I'll be fine."

"Who am I to defy orders?" 

That made you stop and turn towards him. 

"You’re wrong, Tommy's with Grace. We're friends; he has no feeling like that towards me."

"You sure about that" 

"I just delivered his baby, Micheal."

"Exactly," he said, then turned around and left. 

You walked into your building and up the steps to your apartment; you stood at the door searching for your keys and became frustrated when you couldn't find them. You threw your bag at the door, making everything fall and spill across the floor. 

You took a deep breath before squatting down, picking everything up, and putting them back; your keys had also been on the ground. You grabbed them and unlocked the door, walking in and shutting it behind you.

You walk over to your bed and jump in it; you don't even have the energy to change. You were so tired, and your head hurt trying to figure out what Micheal got from playing with your head like this. 

You wouldn't even let yourself go down the guessing road; he was with Grace, and that was final. They were apart and came back stronger than ever; their love was fairy-tale-like. 

You couldn't help yourself, though; a small part of you still thought, 

What if.

********************************

Months have passed since you last seen Tommy since you delivered his baby. You haven’t seen him, but you know he was keeping tabs on you. You also started to see Arthur less; he was a changed man so he says. He met a new dime, Linda. You’re not going to lie, you don’t like the bitch, but Arthur does, and seeing as he has stopped the fighting, drinking, and even snow, you’ve decided to let it go. 

You still see peaky boys, though; they have become a part of your day-to-day life. You can’t remember the last time you had a regular patient or even a day off. And you needed a day off, you barely sleep cause of all the doubles you’ve been pulling at the hospital, and you never go out anymore. You honestly don’t remember the last time you got laid.

It’s been a while. 

So that’s why you decided to take the day off and to take up one of the doctors at the hospital's offer to go out.

You honestly didn’t care where the doctor took you or what y’all talked about; you had one goal tonight: getting laid.

You were ready to go out, sitting at your kitchen table bucking your shoes, when you heard a knock on your door. He was early, but you were ready, so it was fine. You walked over to the door, a smile taking over your face. You opened the door and were immediately pushed out of the way as someone invited themselves into your home.

“ Um, excuse me,” you said, turning around to meet the stranger.

Only it wasn’t a stranger. It was Tommy

And he wasn’t alone; he had his son in his arms.

“What's wrong?” You asked, rushing over to them. 

“ he fell. I was changing him, and he fell, and he cried and cried, but then he just stopped.” He was pacing your living room with the baby still in his arms.

You slowly approached him. 

“ It’s ok, Tommy, babies aren’t glass, ok. Every kid has been dropped on their head, I’d reckon Arthur, more than once.”

You got him to stop pacing with your words, but he still held the baby in a death grip.

“ Let me see him, Tommy; everything going to be fine, just let me see him.” You spoke as softly as you could as you stood before him, placing your hand on his shoulder. 

He looked up from the baby to look at you; you nodded as you placed your hands under his to take the baby from his hands. He slowly let go of the baby, releasing him to you. Once you fully secured the baby, you held him close as you walked over to your med bag at home. You fetched out your stethoscope and put it on before listening to the baby’s heart rate and breathing; you then checked his pupil reaction with your small flashlight. 

The baby seemed fine; Tommy probably put the baby to sleep by rocking it for so long, that’s why it probably stopped crying. 

“ Your baby’s fine, no signs of brain damage; he is just sleeping. That’s why he stopped crying,” you said, walking back over to him, and handing him back his baby.

You could see his body ease up slowly as he rocked the baby back and forth. 

“ Did you drive here, or” you trailed off

“ Yeah, but my car ran out of petrol; I’ve sent Curly to get me some more.” 

You nodded slowly; you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do next.

“ Do you have a quiet place where I can put him down?” 

“ Yes, my bedroom, it's over there,” You say, pointing towards the back of the room.

Tommy walks back towards your room, and you just stand there, uncertain what to do in your own home. He came back soon and started to head towards a seat in your living room and to make things less awkward, you took a seat across from him in the other chair. 

“ Can I smoke in here?” 

You nodded to his question; he pulled out his cigarette holder and took one before offering you one.

“ Oh no, I don’t smoke,” you said, making him make a face.

“ I only smoked that one time cause I was a bit stressed.”

He just nodded at you, lighting up his cig and taking a drag, and y’all just sat there; honestly, how long does it take to get some petrol. You couldn’t be this still any longer. You had to get up.

“ Would you like something to drink?” You asked, walking over to your drink table.” Whiskey fine?” you asked, even though you knew that’s all he drank 

You turned back to see him nodding his head, so you continued to ask, “ Brown or white?”

“ Brown” 

You poured the both of you a cup, filling yours up a bit more than his; you would need the whole bottle if he stayed any longer. You walked over to him, handing him his cup before sitting back in your seat. The silence followed again shortly after, and it was killing you; he had finished his cig, and you had finished your glass; you were seriously thinking about getting that petrol yourself. 

“ You were a nurse in the war? “ Tommy asked, pointing towards your medals on the shelf above your fireplace.

“ Yes, I was stationed in France, you? “ 

 You already knew the answer, though, cause of Arthur

“ Yep, I was in France, tunneler.” he finished his drink before continuing, “You kept your medals?” 

Even though he didn’t phrase it like a question, you still knew he was asking why you had kept them.

This question caught you slightly off guard, but you knew most people around here threw theirs into the cut as a fuck you to the king for the way they were treated when they got back.

“ You mean, why didn’t I throw them in the cut like everyone else?” You asked as you got up, getting his cup and you for a much-needed refill. “ I don’t see them like how you might; I see them as my team telling me good job and not the king. My team nominated me for the medal, not the king.” 

He nodded, slowly taking his drink back and sipping before asking you another question. 

“ And the war,” he cleared his throat, “is it still with you.”

You didn’t know why he was asking you all these questions, but you didn’t mind answering them. The more you talked about your experience, the easier it was to continue your life and leave the war in the past.

“ Honestly, there must be something wrong with my brain because no matter how hard I try to think back, I can’t remember half of the things that happened.” You let out a slight chuckle as you spoke. 

“Nothing, eh?” 

“ Well, not nothing; I remember why I was nominated for that medal.” You paused, unsure if you should tell this story. Men like Tommy don’t often reminisce about their time in France. But Tommy tipped his glass towards you, encouraging you along.

“ Ok, umm, my group and I had been relocated closer to the battlefield; we were located where fighting had taken place and tunnels dug. So there were a lot of caved-in holes and shells everywhere, but they said they had swept the area, and there were no bombs or anything. Nightfall came, and we were all set up; everyone but the guards were asleep. I couldn’t, though; I could hear the fighting going on in the distance. And even though it was really dumb, I went for a walk. I just couldn’t keep still and didn’t want to wake up the others.” 

You looked down and realized that you had finished your drink, so you got up to get some more; you went over to the drink table but didn’t pour anything. Instead, you just leaned against it before turning back to face Thomas. 

“ I was walking, and um, I tripped, fell right on my face. I had dropped my flashlight, hitting the ground must have turned it off. So I reached around looking for it, and that was when I touched something, but it wasn’t my flashlight; it was my hand. I panicked and backed up as quickly as possible and ended up finding my flashlight. I quickly turned it on and saw a hand sticking up from the mud, almost like it had broken through. I was trying to calm myself down when I saw the hand twitch; I had assumed the guy was dead. Next thing I know, I’m on my hands and knees digging through the dirt, and it seemed like no matter how fast and hard I dug, dirt kept refilling up the hole.” Tears started falling from your cheek, but you wiped them quickly, not wanting to cry in front of Tommy.

“ I uhh eventually was able to dig his head out, then shoulders and then I was able to pull him out, he wasn’t breathing, so I began CPR and mouth to mouth, the mud got all in my mouth cause his face was caked with it, but I didn’t care. Finally, after five minutes, he began coughing and gasping for air; I pulled him up into my lap, propping him up a bit, hoping that would help. Then he opened his eyes. He had tried to speak, but he just kept saying the same thing over and over again; he wasn’t making any sense. I told him he should save his strength, which made him quiet down. And so we just laid there for a bit, with him in my lap holding onto my arms; he just looked at me, and I looked at him. He eventually remembered that other men were still down in the tunnels, and thankfully, the tunnel hadn’t fully clasped. Together, we dug them out and helped them back to camp. They were all too badly injured for us to help, so they were driven to the nearest hospital.” 

You had walked over to Thomas, picking up his cigarette holder, taking one, and lighting it up. Tommy took notice but didn’t say anything. 

“ Soon after I was nominated for the award, the soldiers I had saved and the nurse in my unit nominated me. And the rest is history.” You took a couple more puffs of the cig before putting it out on the table since you didn’t have an ashtray. 

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but there was a knock at the door; you walked over to it, opened it, and was greeted by Curly.

“ Tommy, I’ve got the petrol for you and filled your car; it's all ready to go.”

You turned to face him, smiling, before heading to your room to pick up the baby. You brought the baby out to Thomas, placing him in his hands.

“ Welp, this has been fun, but I’m tired, and this little one needs to get home. See you, Tommy.” 

He said your name, tilting his head down before leaving your apartment.

 You have never told that story to anyone before; it brought up a lot of emotions, more than you expected. It had felt good telling that story, though, especially with a person who also served, who might have understood where you were coming from. 

You had washed up and changed your clothes; the Whiskey made your eyes feel heavy, and you practically had to drag yourself to bed. You did make it, though. You got under the covers all warm and cozy, and you were about to fall asleep when you suddenly realized, 

You never went on your date.

********************

You wish you could say the next time you saw, Tommy was as pleasant as the last.

You had a late shift at the hospital tonight.

You walked into the hospital late, around 8:00 p.m. The air felt good, and you had been inside all day at home, so you decided to walk to work; it wasn’t far. You had run into a friend at the door and were walking in together. She was talking to you about her lazy husband, but as soon as you entered the hospital, you had tuned her out. You heard a voice screaming in the distance; you knew that voice. You started running in the direction the voice was coming from, leaving your friend without a goodbye.

It felt like you were running in slow motion; the hallway was getting longer and longer, and you thought you would never get to the end. 

When you finally reached the end, you stopped and scanned the room. Tommy was being held back by multiple guards and doctors, Polly and Linda were screaming at the nurses, Arthur had been pressed to the floor, and John was against the wall. 

“ Mr.Shelby, if you don’t calm down, we will have to put you out,” one of the nurses said, trying to get him to calm down, but that only made him more mad.

The nurse screamed as Tommy held a gun to her face. “ I’m sorry, what was that? hmm” 

You had rushed over, placing yourself in between the gun and the nurse, 

“ Tommy, Tommy, look at me. What's wrong? Tell me how I can help.”  

His breath was coming out shaking. He waved the gun to the side, trying to tell you to move, but you didn’t; he did it again, and you still didn’t move.

“ Move!” he yelled. 

“ No, Tommy, what’s wrong?” 

He yelled out in frustration, then put the gun back in his holder. He turned around walking away from you, putting his hands on top of his head. 

“ Talk to me, please, Tommy.” You begged 

You blinked and suddenly he was in your face, he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. He squatted down to your eye level before pointing his arm out in no particular direction, his mouth opened and closed, as he struggled to find the words.

“ Them fuckers shot Grace, and now these doctors won’t let me see her.”

“ Ok, I will go check on her, okay, but you can’t threaten them; they’re just doing their job.”

“ Ok, Tommy,” he nodded slowly back at you. 

“ Ok,” he whispered.

You turned to the nurse you had protected earlier. 

“ Take them to a private waiting room, please.” She nodded, whispering a small thank you as you walked towards the surgical wing. You were about to walk through the door when you had been tugged back; it was Tommy.

“ I got her, Tommy, I promise.” He squeezed your hand before letting go. 

You pushed through the door to the surgical wing and started to run; you weren’t sure which room she was in, so you checked every single one, busting through the door and looking at the person on the table. You have reached the last surgery room with no luck so far. Grace had to be in this room; it was the last one. You opened the door, saying a slight prayer.

“ Time of death 10:55” 

You tried to talk, but the words got trapped in your throat; you felt it sitting there, causing your throat to burn as you struggled to breathe. Tears began falling down your face as you fell against the wall, feeling too weak to stand alone. This wasn’t supposed to happen; this isn’t how things were supposed to go. 

“ No,” you sobbed out.

“ No, no, no, no, no, what did you do?” you screamed at the Doctor.

You pushed yourself off the wall, walking over to Grace; you touched her arm, and she was still warm. You looked up at the Doctor; it was Dr.Brown.

“ What did you do? The shot was to the fucking shoulder; what - did - you - do” 

He just stared at you, not answering you. You looked around the room, and everyone was staring at you. You went around the table and pushed Dr.Brown against the wall; you didn’t know what you were doing; you didn’t know what you wanted from him.

“ Do you think you could tell Thomas for me?” his voice was shaky. 

You let go of him, walking backward. You stared at him in disgust, and then you started to laugh. 

It was an eerie laugh; you were practically choking on it. You wiped the tears and snot from your face with the back of your hands.

“You want me to tell him that you killed his wife because you don’t want him to smell the alcohol on your breath 'cause you want to live right.” 

The Doctor stared at you with his mouth gaping open like a fish; you even saw his eyes start to fill up with tears.

“ Oh, don’t worry, I’ll tell him, and when he’s in the right mind, I’ll tell him that you’re a drunk and you killed his wife.” 

You walked out before he could spill some bullshit to you. 

You wanted to walk slowly and drag your feet, but you knew better.

You’ve lost patients before and family, but it didn’t feel like this. You’ve never felt like this; you never felt so responsible for someone's death. 

You know that there was no way you could have stopped it, and there was no way you could have known. But what if, what if you called a taxi instead of walking? What if you told the police about the Doctor's drinking. So many moments played through your head, so many moments you wished you changed because somehow this feels like your fault. You knew that. Dr. Brown was a drunk; you should have fought harder with the hospital board. You should’ve- 

You stopped cause; deep down, you knew there was nothing you could have done. There is no way you could have saved Grace. 

You approached the private waiting room and stood there for a second to gather yourself. This death isn’t yours to cry for; it’s theirs. You wiped your tears and snot on your shirt; you cleared your throat and took a deep breath.

You pushed open the door and entered the room; they all stood when you entered, except for Tommy, who already standing cause he had been pacing. You looked around the room. Every single person's eyes were on you, waiting for you to speak; it was so quiet, no one made a sound.

“ So,” Tommy’s voice cracked as he spoke.

You took a deep breath before you tried to speak, and you tried, you really did, but you couldn’t keep it together. A sob left your mouth before you could stop it.

This caused Polly to bring her hand to her mouth as she fought back her tears.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before trying again.

“ I’m s-so sorry, Tommy; when I got there, she was already gone. There was nothing I could do.” Your voice grew horse as you spoke, and your throat burned as your fought back tears.

“No,” he whispered. 

“ Tommy”

“NO!” he shouted before throwing the chair across the room.

Polly started telling everyone to get out and give him some space, but you stayed. You knew the last thing he needed was to be alone with his thoughts.

Everyone had left, and it was just you two alone. 

He had stopped throwing things and rested his head against the wall.

“ Get out” 

“ No,” you said, walking over to him, 

You had placed your hand on his shoulder, but it was only for a second cause soon he had flipped you, and now you were against the wall. He held a tight grip on your shoulders, keeping you bound to the wall. His eyes started directly into yours, and even though he appeared mad, his eyes showed he was hurt. 

He pushed you deeper into the wall. “Why didn’t you save her?” You heard the pain in his voice as he spoke. “You saved me; you brought me back to life; why couldn’t you save her? Why couldn’t you bring her back.” He whispered out

You just stared at him; you were speechless. 

Then it finally happened: he broke down; you put your arms around him as he slowly fell to the ground, with you falling with him.

You held him in your arms as he cried; his grip on your arms kept tightening as if you would let him go. You hadn’t planned on it; you would hold him till he asked you to let go. You’d lay here as he slept if he needed you to. 

He needed you, and you were going to be there for him. 

[aaronhotchswife]

THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Warnings : alcohol, smut, loss of virginity This is the last chapter of this serie. I hope you'll enjoy it !

chapter 1

chapter 2

"There are many things in life that will catch your eyes, but only a few will catch your heart. Pursue those. " -Michael Nolan

It’s the first time that we’re all since Christmas. Drew is talking to the boys, telling him about how at his parents. We didn’t talk about what happened that day in his bedroom, I just apologized for acting like that and he told me not to worry. We’re just best friends trying to figure life out.

"If that is not Y/N!"

"Oh my god! Hiiii! How are you?" I asked the guy behind me, rising from my seat to hug him. "Guys, this is Oliver. He was my best friend from elementary to high school."

He smiles at them, his arm around my shoulder. When I ask him what he’s doing here, he tells me that his friends picked this bar to celebrate the New Year.

"Do you want a drink? " Olivier asks, pointing over two stools at the bar. I accept, taking his hand and following him. I see the girls looking at me with smiles and playful looks. I laugh softly, just wanting to have a drink with my childhood best friend. My heart belongs to Drew, but these past few days I just want to think about someone else and clear my mind. I’ve been in love with him for a long time now, always thinking about him and how cute and wonderful he is. From the moment we kissed as our characters for the first time to our fight, I keep loving him. But maybe now it’s time to let myself live at little bit, without him.

Drew’s point of view

I see her at the bar, talking with some guy. She’s sipping her cocktail, admiring him. I think Lacia sees the confusion on my face because she taps on my shoulder and explains to me who he is. He looks handsome and I can’t help but be a little jealous of how she looks at him. Especially when his hand finds its way down her back, murmuring something in her ear. It should be me with her like that, and I can’t help but be mad at myself for how things played out.

***

Y/N’s point of view

I’m outside with Oliver, still talking about what is going on in our lives. My phone rings and when I look at it, I see a text from Madelyn wishing me a happy New Year. I didn’t even realize that it was midnight already.

"Happy New Year Oli! "

"Oh! Happy New Year! I wish you everything you wish for. "

I smile before hugging him. It’s good to see him again after having lost touch after high school. When I break his embrace, his lips find mine, kissing me softly. I smile on his lips, my face finding its way on his chest.

"Don’t get shy on my now, " he laughs.

"I’m sorry, I just didn’t except kissing someone tonight. Listen, I just probably go check on my friends, they must probably wonder where I went. You have my number so text me whenever you want, " I kiss his cheek goodbye before turning around and entering the bar.

Drew’s point of view

I see her coming back to our table, her lipstick a bit smudged. I don’t need more clues to understand what just happened with her and that man. I look at her, my head filled with memories of the feelings never told and at this moment, I realize that I need to be hers. I would crawl home to her if it was what it took for her to want me.

"You had fun with your friend?" I ask.

"I did. Thanks for asking…" she responds.

"Yeah, I can see that. "

She looks at me with an awkward smile, before sitting next to Maddie, who is almost sleeping on the table. She wakes her up, telling her that she’ll drive her home since she just had one drink.

"C’mon Mad. Let’s get you home. Drew, are you coming home too? "

I nod, before saying goodbye to everyone. Y/N drove Maddie home before parking her car at our apartment entrance. When she unlocks the door, she throws her heels away, sighing in relief.

"God, my feet are killing me. " She laughs, making her way to her bedroom, exiting it with her towel and pyjamas. "I’ll go in the shower; do you want to watch an episode of Modern Family after? "

"Of course. But I need to take a shower too before. I feel disgusting, " I chuckle.

***

As we’re sitting on the couch, I look at her, not thinking twice before asking about Oliver. She explains to me that he was her best friend and that they kissed. I can feel the anger and the jealousy inside of me but I try to act as nothing.

"He’s cute but he is not my type. I would not have a relationship with him, if it what you’re asking. "

"Maybe it is, " I say. "Maybe it’s because I want you. "¸

"What? "

"I want you, Y/N. I want everything from you. I want you to be able to see yourself through my eyes and to realize how special you are to me. And tonight, when I saw you with him, I realized that I need you in my life more than a best friend. "  

"Drew…"

I suddenly have a feral urge to crash my lips on hers and I can feel she wants the same.

Y/N’s point of view

Drew’s lips are on mine and I can’t explain how it feels at the exact moment. Even if I kissed him for work, it doesn’t feel the same. It feels real. It is real. I can feel him smile against my lips when my hand grabs his hair, giving me a little push to sit on his thighs. One of his hands is on the end of my back and the other one is on my cheek. I can feel his tongue pushing against mine and I let him.  He lays me on the couch, his hand caressing my hair.

"Do you want to go in the bedroom? " He asks me, murmuring in my ear. He doesn’t have to ask me twice before my hand is in his and I bring him to my bedroom. He kisses me until my legs are on the side of the bed, making me fall on it. He’s on top of me, and his mouth is on my neck, giving me butterflies.

"I want you, Drew. Please. "

"Asked like that, it would be my pleasure, " he says chuckling.

His hands make their way to the hem of my shirt, pushing it further, asking for permission to undress me. I nod, watching Drew undress both of us.  Both of our breathing is shallow when he looks at me. I feel shy, being almost naked in front of me. His hand plays with the hem of my panties, his mouth leaving small kisses on my stomach. When he takes off my underwear, I can se his eyes glistening.

"You are so beautiful. Are you sure you want to do this? "

"Yes, Drew, please. "

He kisses me one last time, his fingers playing with my nipples, making them hard. His hand finds its way to my core, murmuring in your ear how wet I am. His fingers play with my folds, before pushing one finger slowly into me, making my breath stops. The palm of his hand rubs softly against my clit, and it that moment I never felt better.

He parts my thighs and he places my feet on his shoulders before placing himself between my thighs. The tip of his nose brushes delicately on top of my clit and his tongue glides slowly in my folds. The moan I do makes him smile against my core and when he looks at me, his face is all wet from my arousal. But now I want to make him feel good. I sit up, my hand taking his boxer off. My breath gets caught when I see how big he is. I tentatively put my hand around him, making up and down movements and with the way his head falls back, I guess I’m doing good.

"Fuck. " He moaned.

"Can I taste you? "

His eyes sparkled the second I ask him, and he replace himself to be comfortable, while I start leaving some small kisses on his cock. His hands grab my hair in a makeshift ponytail, before guiding my head up and down his cock. He stops me just before he could cum, kissing me softly.

"Are you ready? "

"Put your hands on my shoulders and squeeze if it hurts, and tell me if you need me to stop, okay? " He instructed.

I nod, while Drew slowly pushes the tip of his cock in me. He takes a sharp breath as he pushes into me, feeling my walls clenching around him.

"You’re doing really great baby, want me to move? " He says, his voice hoarse.

I agree and with that, it’s not long before Drew’s sweet sounds in my ear and each stroke of him against that perfect little spot make me grip the headboard.

"You feel so fucking good baby, so tight. "

"Drew. "

Drew’s point of view

"Drew. "

The way she says my name and the breathy moan that spills from her lips are too much, pushing me right to the end. I watch her as her head falls back on the pillow and her back arches, and I swear that I never saw something that perfect in my life. I try to catch my breath, while she does the same. I cuddle her, caressing her hair.

"Hey, I love you. "

She smiles at me, and her smile is literally the cutest thing I have ever seen.

"I love you too Drew. "

taglist : @willowalexissss @maybankslover @prentissesredtanktop @conniebabyy @arinadixin @chenslucy @h34rtsformilli @tiaamberxx

[prose-among-the-trees]

Another DissociaDID post because frankly I’m not done.

Soren can obviously do what he wants (using he/him for the current name because I really don’t feel like starting an argument about whether DD is trans or not. I don’t mind using someone’s preferred name or pronouns.) when it comes to his channel, that goes without saying.

That being said, every single video is the same fucking thing. I as a former fan am frustrated with the same few topics over the past few years. I want a return of his to be genuine, not promise new educational content and be the same horrifying misinformation combined with blaming everyone for his legitimate fuckups.

People cannot genuinely believe that his newest update video was anything but a recap of the entire channel plus a chance to mourn all the fused alters like they died. People cannot genuinely believe that his newest demon alter video wasn’t a ripoff of the videos he promotes constantly, Mara’s intro, Sally and Amira’s nonhuman talk, and the videos about types of alters.

He’s promoting Palestine on TikTok and YouTube shorts when YouTube videos themselves get the most money for them statistically. He could do videos where he isn’t constantly making shameless plugs to his patreon and begging people to watch his trauma and dissociation on there if they’re paying for a certain tier.

This is not fucking did, it’s a joke. The newest video about types of switches is just blatant misinformation, full stop. I’ve now seen didtok making their own switching terms and circulating those. These are not clinical representations of a disorder.

Can we cut the brainrot for a second and admit that DissociaDID is a one man army to dismantle legitimate medical resources and precedents on which DID is founded on?

DissociaDID is a grifter who should have stayed the fuck gone. In case anyone believes I’m being too harsh about this, let’s go over some of the more insidious things this person (single person) has done.

1. Dated Team Piñata, someone who was exposed for drawing and selling art of CP, and begged all the did YouTubers to sweep that little factoid under the rug for the sake of friendship.

2. Fucked up with misinformation SO BADLY that the entire did community believed the terms integration and fusion were interchangeable.

3. Treated fusion like it could be caused by trauma, like alters had fucking died, and encouraged fans to simp over while mourning Kyle.

4. Responded to comments flirting on Mara’s individual account and liked comments from MINORS along with using their main account to tell a 16-17 year old boy that they could work on his GAG REFLEX (he was doing a magic trick and pulling a flower out of his mouth).

5. Told all of YouTube that Reddit was a bunch of predatory sadists who wanted children hurt when we asked him to move mature content to mature platforms like OF so kids couldn’t see that shit.

6. Legitimately steals trauma stories from media (says there’s no introjection there), other YouTubers, and from people who first supported him starting the channel.

7. Is still extorting viewers for the Sergio Costa case that should have ended at least a year ago. He might have started the issue but Soren is continuing to gather legal funding in a cash pool for the next complaint about his channel (can’t sue me I’m anonymous).

8. Posts triggering content to TikTok and when asked to stop blames the viewers and implies they’re bad people or predators.

9. Sends his fans to dox and harass whoever he wants because he can’t take a little legitimate criticism.

10. Subjected viewers to fetish content without their informed consent bc TP had a sneezing fetish (TP also drew CP with this fetish).

11. Blamed the internet for essentially killing Nadia after people called him out on his racist caricature of an Indigenous person.

12. Gave HORRIFIC sex advice for minors to see on how to get into BDSM after trauma. If you can’t say no you can’t have sex. Fuck that entire video.

Defending this person without any critical thinking and doing it blindly is defending everything I’ve stated above.

Fuck DissociaDID and the harm he continuously causes.

Also tagging @tomcatyowls because I know my mutual gets it. You’re a real one.