#I'm not crying I am Just in need of fix it fics

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[popcornpoppypop]

I'm Glad You Stayed

Summary: Jack Abbot x Single Mom! Reader: A companion piece to the Like Me Series. Matt is graduating and you and Jack are a mess. Matt has a surprise up his sleeve.

Warnings: Just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I saw a tiktok where similar events to this fic happen and I couldn't stop myself. Plus, I think I've been mean enough to these three for the time being.

“I still don’t know why I have to wear a tie if my robe is going to cover everything.” Matt rolled his eyes as Jack fixed the knot of the fabric.

“You’re supposed to dress up for the big moments. Don’t ask me why.” Jack shrugged.

“I hate ties.” Matt grumbled as he tried to loosen it again. Jack smacked his hands away.

“Your mother wants you to look nice. So, nice we will look.” Jack nodded as he turned to look in the mirror and make sure his tie looked okay.

“Oh, my handsome boys.” You came into Matt’s room, already misty-eyed.

“Please, the crying, Mom.” Matt cringed.

“It ain’t gonna stop today.” Jack chuckled.

“You look so nice. I can’t believe you’re graduating already.” You shook your head as you cupped Matt’s face in your hand.

“Don’t cry on him too much, Honey. You’ll stain the shirt.” Jack kissed your cheek as you smacked his chest.

“I’m just so proud of you, Matty.” You smiled.

“Thanks, Mom.” He smiled. “We need to get going, though. It’s a bad look for the valedictorian to be late.” He said, grabbing his garment bag with his cap and gown and running downstairs.

“I am not making it through today.” You sighed.

“You’ll be okay. It’s part of the process, letting go.” Jack wrapped an arm around you.

“It feels like we should have more time.” You said, heading downstairs.

“Never would be enough.” Jack followed.

The school was crowded with parents with red eyes giving last-minute advice to the graduates. There was an air of excitement and anxiety for the future. The students felt like the world was theirs, and the parents felt like they were losing everything.

Jack was straightening the cords on Matt’s shoulders; you were making sure it was wrinkle-free. Matt had surrendered to being fussed over.

“Jack! Y/N!” Robby’s voice caught your attention. You watched as he dodged students running around and siblings chasing after them.

“Robby!” Matt jogged up to him and hugged him. “I thought you weren’t going to make it?”

“Miss this!? Never! I made sure I got it covered. Dana’s around here somewhere, too. We’re taping it for everyone else.” Robby smiled.

“You know they have live links for this stuff nowadays.” Jack chuckled. “You’re aging yourself there, brother.”

“Leave him be.” You shoved Jack’s shoulder.

“That would be why Mohan laughed at me.” Robby nodded.

“I got to get in there. You're coming to the party, right?” Matt smiled.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Robby patted him on the back.

“No crazy stunts, right?” You asked as you fussed over his cap.

“None. I swear. Just my speech. Try not to dehydrate yourself.” Matt kissed your cheek.

“I brought a bag of fluids to hook her up to just in case.” Jack smirked.

“See you once I’m a graduate, I guess!” He beamed as he ran off. You hooked your arm around Jack’s.

“You two are going to be a mess.” Robby chuckled as he walked toward the building.

“He’s so excited. I’m terrified.” You sighed.

“Part of the whole parent thing, or so I hear.” Jack walked you in.

The kids all filed in, the music just a touch too loud. The principal gave a welcome speech that felt like he did it every year and never changed it. The degrees started being handed out.

“It’s going to be a while until we see him.” Jack sighed. You pulled out your phone, doing your best to be sly.

“I don’t know, might not be that long.” You smirked.

“Jennifer Marie Aarons, Kyle Lucas Abbey, Matthew William Abbot,” the announcer’s voice rang out.

Jack looked to you, confused, unsure if he had heard correctly.

“What?” His voice shocked and soft.

“He got it all changed a few weeks ago.” You said, the tears falling freely as you watched your son walk across the stage.

“Yeah, Matty!” Jack leapt up, shouting his pride for his son. The tears were obvious.

Matt turned to where you and Jack stood, giving a wave and pumping his fist in the air. Jack sat down and gathered you in his arms.

“You’ve been his dad the whole time, Jack. That’s your son.” You said, holding his face in your hands.

“I’ve loved him through all of it.” He kissed you.

The lists of names dwindled and the kids were sat with their diplomas. You were readying yourself for Matt’s speech, knowing full well that you would not be able to keep it together at all. Matt had not let anyone see his speech. He kept saying it was his gift and you don’t open gifts early.

“Please welcome our Valedictorian, Matthew Abbot.” The principal handed the podium to Matt. Jack’s breath caught at the declaration of his name again.

“Hello. Thank you for sitting through the slog of everyone else’s children for the one photo op of yours. I promise to keep this short.” Matt smiled; the audience chuckled. “High school is never the easiest time in life. Puberty, dating and exams all come crashing down at the same time. Some handle it better than others, but we all inevitably survive. The only way for us to survive is to lean on those that care about us. Our parents put up with all of our attitudes and breakups and breakdowns. In my case, my parents not only had to deal with a hormonal teenager, but a teenager who was traumatized, who lost a limb, and was still trying to figure out who they were. I’m lucky that I have the parents I do. They are both doctors, both trying to make the world a better place. They knew how to care for my wounds, physical and emotional. My mom held our family together as our world came crashing down. Her strength is something to marvel at.” Matt’s voice started to crack. You were in pieces.

“My father, one of my fathers, had it worse than most. He’s an amputee himself, and knew the pain and struggle I would face. He helped me to understand what I was facing. I was not kind to him during my recovery. A recovery that was long and hard, but only made possible because of my father and the efforts of his friends and colleagues at Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center. Colleagues like Dr. Michael Robinavtich and Nurse Dana Evans who helped save my life. I started my healing thinking anger was the only way to survive, and he bore the brunt of it. He never flinched, never batted an eye at my screaming at him. He never left. He was always there. His kindness, grace, and patience is something I will always strive to emulate. He’s the best man I know. I wouldn’t be up here giving this speech without him.” Jack’s hand held yours tightly as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

“The world is a scary place, I know that more than most. I know that fear can’t lead how you live. We are given a great opportunity to live our lives how we want. I plan to lead a life filled with hard work, happiness and kindness. I plan to do my best to follow in my parents' footsteps and make this world a better place. I urge my fellow graduates to find what you do that makes the world better and give everything you can to it. Go into the world with excitement and when you can, try to be patient. Thank you.” Matt smiled as he left the podium. You and Jack were on your feet, applauding and crying. The audience clapped for his speech and you heard the distinct yell of Robby and Dana from the stands.

“We did alright, I think.” You smiled up to Jack. He looked down to you, his face glowing with pride as he wrapped you in his arms.

“Yeah, we did alright.” His rough voice making you tear up again.

They finally released everyone to collect their kids after everyone had gathered their caps from the ground. Friends were hugging each other and tears were being shed.

“Mom! Jack!” Matt waved his hand over the crowd. You and Jack ran over to him, gathering him up in your arms.

“That was a beautiful speech, baby.” You cried. “You did so well.” You pulled away and looked up at him. He didn’t look like a boy today, he looked ready for the world. It made your heart fall to your stomach.

“Thanks. Did you like your surprise, Jack?” Matt chuckled as he looked over at the tear streaked face of his father.

“Second best gift I’ve ever gotten, you having my name.” Jack smiled.

“Second!? What the hell was the first?” Matt scoffed.

“Getting to help raise you.” He pulled Matt into his arms, giving a hard hug. Matt clung onto him, burying his face in Jack’s neck.

“Let’s go to the party. I need a drink if I’m getting through the rest of today.” You chuckled.

“Can I have a drink?” Matt asked.

“Absolutely not.” You smacked his arm. Jack leaned around you and mouthed one beer to Matt, making him giggle.

“You two aren’t slick!” You scoff. Your family made their way out of the building, the lawn covered in tissues and families hugging.

“Hey! Abbots!” Robby’s voice cut through the crowd.

“Oh, Matt! That was so good, darlin’.” Dana ran up and pulled him into a tight hug.

“How’d you two handle all that?” Robby chuckled.

“Don’t let him say anything, he cried too.” Dana chuckled.

“You cried?” Matt chuckled.

“Real men cry, Matty. I am but a man.” Robby chuckled as he hugged him.

Matt’s graduation party was filled with family wishing him well and his friends getting ready for their futures. There was laughter and happy tears and dreams shared. It was late in the evening when all the guests had finally left.

“You boys make sure to put that fire out when your done.” You sigh as you get up.

“You going to bed?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, all that crying took it out of me.” You chuckled. “Plus we’ve got to finish packing tomorrow.” You sighed as you kissed Matt’s forehead.

“I’ll be up soon.” Jack kissed you.

“You take your time, it’s okay. No more than one beer, please.” You gave him a bemused look.

“Promise.” Jack chuckled as he got up and pulled two bottles out of the cooler.

“You were serious?” Matt excitedly sat up in his chair.

“I was drinking shots of whiskey from my friend's flask behind the gas station at your age. I think one beer at graduation won’t kill you.” Jack laughed as he handed the bottle to him.

“I’m not looking forward to packing tomorrow. Mom is going to cry all over me.” Matt laughed.

“Take it easy on her. You’re her baby, and you’re leaving. It’s hard, letting go.” Jack sipped his beer.

“Yeah. You’re doing okay, though.” Matt sipped his beer with a slight grimace.

“Oh, I’m not. I just need to be stable enough to keep your mom together. I know today felt like the official declaration that you’re my son. But you’ve been my son to me since the day we met.” Jack sighed, looking at the fire.

“If I could go back, I’d tell myself to be better to you.” Matt shook his head.

“Don’t be upset with how you handled the past. Nothing you can do about it now. We found our way and that’s what matters. I was never leaving, Matt. This family is all that matters to me.” Jack looked up at his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I am so proud of who you are. You’re a good person and you’re going to get even better.”

“I’m really glad you stayed. I’m going to miss you.” Matt wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“Me too.” Jack cleared his throat. “I know college is going to be busy and you’re going to want to focus on school and having fun, but don’t forget to call us every once in a while.  We’ll worry.”

“I promise. I’ll be back for Thanksgiving, it’ll fly by.” Matt nodded.

“Yeah. Don’t go too crazy over the summer. I don’t want you bringing a girl home knocked up, I will kick your ass.” Jack scolded.

“Oh my god! I’m not even going to say anything to that!” Matt laughed.

“I love you, Matty.” Jack smiled.

“I love you too.”

[chuluoyi]

first ultrasound with gojo (love entries) headcanons?❤️

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 12:55 P.M 」

*sigh* why am i so weak to domestic requests... this is just a little thing i wrote in one sitting while stalling my nanami fic (and after coming back from the company retreat!) sobs, i'm going back to it i promise!! :')) this loosely takes place after daddy-to-be <3

a part of gojo's love entries

“now let us see…”

you were lying on the examination table as the ultrasound gel made contact with your still flat abdomen. the sheer coldness and the way the probe pressed hard on your skin made you wince a bit, until that discomfort was eased by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn your head towards the source.

your husband, gojo satoru, offered you a smile so warm it made everything else fade into the background. beyond his sunglasses was the way he always fondly looked at you, as if he was silently assuring you that he would be by your side every step of this journey.

you couldn't help but smile back at him.

“ah, here’s the baby,” your doctor gestured at the monochrome screen with a grin. “around five weeks now. it’s the size of a seed.”

a seed? your gaze fixed on the screen with a sense of wonder. honestly you couldn’t really pinpoint where your baby was, until you saw one dot that the doctor zoomed in.

and there it was—the tiny beginning of life. the product of you and your husband’s love, growing steadily inside you.

suddenly it felt so real that you were carrying a new life. your heart overflowed with warmth, swelling with emotion, and you struggled to hold back tears as your gaze shifted between the screen and satoru, who offered you a comforting pat on the head.

“hush,” he whispered softly, seemingly moved too after looking at the living testament of his baby on the screen. “don’t cry now, hmm?”

after seeing the sonogram and had it printed, both of you sat before the doctor as she instructed you to take things easy from now on, and through it all, satoru held your hand firmly in his, attentively listening to everything the doctor mentioned and even proactively asking questions in return.

“doc, she gets dizzy and nauseous easily, can you prescribe her something to make it bearable?”

“i can certainly prescribe some anti-sickness medication, but i highly recommend you to have plenty of rests and eat healthy food too to reduce morning sickness—”

“hmm, and can you recommend anything to improve sleep? she can have trouble sleeping too…”

honestly it touched you to see satoru picked up on these little things about you despite being away so often. only now did you realize that he had always been watching over you, without fail.

back at home, he sat you down on your bed, back to being a carefree clown who would draw laughs out of you.

“now, little mom,” he began, his lips already turning up into a grin as he took your hands in his, kneeling before you. “you need to listen to me very closely, okay?”

you snorted. “don't address me like that!”

“uh-oh, no squirming,” satoru warned playfully, pinching your cheeks, and you swatted his hand, holding back giggles.

oh my. just what a blissfully happy couple you were.

“first thing first, now you are to have lots of breaks and rest,” he declared, amusement melted a bit from his tone. “the doctor said so. it'll help with your nausea too. if you feel the slightest bit unwell, you have to go back and rest.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, yeah...”

“and no staying up late too,” he added, fixing his clear eyes on yours. “especially not for waiting for me to be home.”

that got you to clamp up. so he noticed it too, the way you would always wait for him, even at the cost of not sleeping at all. satoru never really said anything all this time, but now you knew, he was indeed worried.

once again, your chest burst with love and warmth. but still...

“can you promise me that?” satoru asked you gently, his smile still in place, but you knew the underlying command behind those words. “i'm coming back. always. i have everything i want here, with you. there's no way i'm not coming back.”

you hung onto his every word, and much like spellbound, you let go of everything and nodded.

“and now baby...”

he then shifted his focus to your tummy, gently brushing his fingers across it, and the gesture stirred something inside you, making you throb with emotion.

“you only have one job. grow big and healthy, and you can even bother mama sometimes! just don't make her too sick or i'll worry...”

somehow your vision blurred with tears, hearing how unusually earnest he was. “satoru, you're so silly.”

but as always, he would pick this moment to flip the switch, reverting back to his usual teasing.

“hmm, what's that? you're getting soft now, aren't you, mommy~?”

“...why do you have to sound like that? you're making it lewd on purpose!”

in this little world of love of yours, it was just you and him, along with the tales of your life together. you had weathered various moments side by side, and now, as you were embarking on another significant chapter with him, you were certain that everything would be alright.

satoru pulled you to the bed and smothered your head with kisses, trapping you between his strong arms. “hmm, comfy now?”

“mmm, yeah. keep cuddling me...”

and from his side, he was sure, that right now, everything had never been and felt so right than ever before—with the love of his life and future in his arms.

[gavisuntiedboot]

Cherry on Top

Gavi X Physiotherapist! reader (birthday special!)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: suggestive content!

A/N: I am back once again with more self indulgent fics for my baby boo thang's birthday !!!

~~~

"Doctoraaa! When are you coming home? I'm withering away from boredom and loneliness."

You could practically hear his pout through the phone, imagining him sprawled out on the couch with his feet in the air.

"Gaviraaa I am studying so that I can graduate on time! Or do you want me to keep making a student salary forever?" You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, still furiously typing away at your sample notes for your advisor.

"What are you even studying? You basically run our whole club's rehab program by yourself. What else do they need to test you on?"

That was actually an excellent question. It was coming up on the two year anniversary since you had become a Barca employee, and you had almost fully taken the reigns. Dr. Gonzalez had checked out, waiting for you to get your degree so that he could finally retire. Nicolas was a good assistant, but was still heavily lacking in his ability to make quick decisions, so he was stuck doing basic PT most of the time. The show was essentially yours to run.

"This last year is testing my leadership ability and teaching skills. When I graduate, I will start running the intern program at the club, and so they have to make sure I can correct staff mistakes."

Your typing was getting progressively louder as you continued angrily editing the note in front of you.

"Take this idiot Aaron. He has not written a single coherent note since he got assigned as my mentoring project. If he were an employee he would have been fired weeks ago. But since this is a "training and learning" opportunity or whatever, I have to fix all his notes and send him the edits so he can learn."

You heard shifting on the other end of the line, and then a soft thud followed by some whispered profanity.

"Pablo please don't injure yourself."

"Maybe it will bring you home faster. Oh no my other ACL!"

Despite his giggle, you went quite on the other side of the line. The day of Pablo's injury had been one of the worst of your life. He had been playing for the national team, so you had no choice but to stare at your TV through glassy eyes, utterly and completely helpless. One of your friends literally had to prevent you from collapsing (though to this day you maintain that it was dehydration, not hysteria). He had called you from the sideline, and the pain in his voice just made you break further.

"I need you."

You had been waiting at the airport to receive him, official team gear on in an attempt to distract fans from the fact that you were fully embracing him and crying into his shoulder. You had almost gone insane in the lead up to his surgery, triple checking the credentials of everyone involved. You stayed by his bed for his entire stay, spending most days and night making sure he wore his brace and didn't make any stupid decisions. It was on one of these nights, when you were once again complaining about not having your favorite undereye cream at his house, that he once again asked you his favorite question.

"Why don't you just move in?"

As usual, you brushed the comment off. Gavi had been asking you to move in weekly for over a year now, always unfortunately dead serious. There was an innocence and simplicity in the way Pablo say the world that you wished you could emulate. He liked you, he was comfortable around you, and he wanted you to live with him. Simple, right?

But it terrified you. You loved Gavi, probably more than anything else in your life. But long withstanding trauma lives up to its name of being long withstanding. That feeling that the expiration date of your perfect relationship was approaching? That never went away. It was like the more time you spent with Gavi, the more you were terrified that he was going to figure out what was wrong with you, why no one could love you until this point in time, and run for the hills. Your apartment was the one space you still had to be irate and disgusting and genuinely yourself without being afraid of scaring him. And it would make it much easier when he eventually broke up with you to date a pop star or a model or Pedri.

"I'm being serious, princesa. You're here every night. You spend more time here than at your own place. You barely sleep in your own bed because you're just obsessed with me and want to take care of me all the time."

"Pablo, we've talked about this..."

"Yes," he said, sitting up and opening his arms in a gesture for you to come cuddle with him. "We have. Back when we had only been together for only three months and we didn't know if you would be able to put up with me."

"Hey!"

"Let me finish." He hugged you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head and rubbing slow circles into your skin. It was hard to maintain your composure when you were like this, feeling the warmth radiating off his skin and the pressure of his lips kissing your crown every so often.

"We've been together for a year and a half now. I've seen you in bad moods, heard your yelling, plucked your chin hairs-"

He restrained you from getting up, giggling at your embarrassment. He really was the most adorable little thing on the planet.

"I've seen you at your lowest points. Which, admittedly mi amor, were not that low. I saw a tiktok of this guy who had to pull out his girlfriend's tampon. This could be much worse. Hey, look at me."

You turned over, your chest pressed to Pablo's as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. You had learned how to do this in the last year, how to steel yourself under his intense gaze. Pablo Gavi looked at you like he was in the presence of a divine being, eyes big and soft and filled to the brim with adoration. He looked at you like just your image was all he needed to keep breathing.

"I love you. So much that sometimes I don't know what to do with it. I want you to move in so I can take care of you, and so that it's easier to let you take care of me. I want to annoy you with my morning training alarm and make you coffee and maybe mess up your laundry when I try to do the washing."

"This is not a convincing argument so far, baby."

"I just want to live with you. And be around you. And hold you like a weighted teddy bear while I sleep."

"What if you get tired of me being around all the time?" You asked between smooshed cheeks, finally losing your ability to maintain his stare.

Gavi refused to even dignify the question with a verbal response, instead letting go of your face to lift the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your cheek was practically burning up pressed against his abs, still defined and solid despite days of immobility.

"Doctora, this is how close I want you to be. At all times. I am about to sew you to my torso. So will you please move in?"

And it was then that you agreed to it. Now the house was littered with so much merch on the walls and shelves it looked like a sports store, but it was yours. A home. You spent months taking care of Gavi, from driving him to appointments to at-home physiotherapy sessions. You took every opportunity to place a gentle kiss on the scar on his knee (ya know, when you were down there ;) ) and avoided all clips that showed him in pain.

"Come on, Doctora. I'm okay."

"I know, I know... it's just not a memory I can bring myself to joke about. Not while you're still in recovery."

"I'm sorry, amor. Can you come home and scold me about it?"

You groaned again, resisting the urge to slam your head into your keyboard. The progress notes were really terrible.

"And besides, you need to finish packing."

This was true. In about 6 hours, you and Gavi would be on a plane for his birthday trip to Ibiza. He had been buzzing with excitement about his birthday trip for months now, eager to take you someplace where there would be nothing to distract the two of you. Just perfect sand and perfect sea for a perfect weekend. He had talked about going farther than Spain this year, maybe Italy or at least Portugal, but injuries have a great way of canceling travel plans.

You reluctantly agreed, telling Pablo you would be home in about 30 minutes, before you began to tidy your workspace. You sent a polite yet pointed email to Aaron (with the head of department CC'ed) explaining that the work was too terrible to be corrected, and he should clear up some time in September to train with you before the season began in earnest and you would be too busy to teach him how to spell "bradycardia".

It was always a humbling experience to pull into the driveway and park your beat up little car next to Gavi's team-sponsored beauty. You were dreading the day he upgraded to something nicer - the neighbors would start thinking that someone was there to rob him. He was already standing at the door smiling wide when you pulled in. He walked up to your door, grabbing all your bags and ushering you inside away from the heat. This had become a regular for Gavi - tracking your location to greet you the second you arrived - so there was really no need to question it anymore. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, eternally grateful for the gentleness he showed you. After a quick yet heated rant about the incompetence of some of the students in your program, you headed upstairs to continue packing.

"Pablo, you think I need to pack more than two dresses?" You asked, looking over the satins and crocheted pieces that your friend ensured you was "totally in".

"I don't think you need to pack any dresses. Or even clothes for that matter."

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Am I supposed to be naked for the whole trip?"

"Not the whole trip. Just pack some bikinis for during the day and some cute underwear for the night. The outfit you wear to the airport should be more than enough incase we ever need to leave." He walked over to where you stood in contemplation, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, and his head resting on your shoulder in the perfect position to kiss your neck.

"Be serious, Pablo. What if we want to go for a nice dinner for your birthday? I can't go in a thong or in my plane sweats."

He didn't stop his attack on your neck for an instant, addicted to the warmth and taste of your skin on his tongue.

"Mi amor, mi sol, mi vida - at the risk of being vulgar, I have to say that you will be the nice dinner on my birthday."

Your eyes went wide at this statement, and suddenly you were glad for his arms there to keep you upright.

"I don't even think I have more than one bikini that still fits."

At this, Gavi released you, running to the closet with your yells to slow down behind him (if you had a euro for every time you told him not to run in socks, you could pay off the club's debt). He came shuffling back out with a large black bag, which he promptly dumped out onto the comforter. There were at least ten swimwear sets in various colors and prints, ranging from polka dots to stripes to... was that cheetah print?

"I picked these out the other day. Well, actually, that's a lie. I sent your size to Aurora, and she placed the order online and I just picked up the bag at the store. Can you imagine what Instagram would do with pictures of me buying lingerie?"

"But there's no lingerie here?"

"Fuck." He scampered off once again, returning with another bag to repeat his previous actions. This time the contents were much more sultry, with dark silks and satins staring back up at you. Mainly reds and blacks littered the pale covers.

"Pablo, you shouldn't have. This is too sweet! But we are only going for three days. There's like a month worth of stuff here."

"Are you planning on never going out again after this trip? Just pick your favorites for this weekend. The rest will be waiting for you when you get back, just in case we ever go to the pool or you want to surprise your football star boyfriend by wearing these to work."

You couldn't even be mad at his words when your heart was so full from his gesture. Pablo was always buying you things - that was nothing new. But you had been worrying for days about not looking good on this trip, not having anything new to wear, and he took that burden off your shoulders.

"So I can pick any of these? They look expensive."

"Ay Doctora, don't upset me. Nothing is worth more than your happiness. I do have one request though."

"Yes, mi amor?"

"You have to wear this one on my birthday," he said while reaching past you to pick up a white bikini with red cherries printed all over.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're like the cherry on top of my birthday cake. You always look good, but I want you to look irresistible."

"Okay, let's relax that's a lot of talk for a- oh my God." Your eyes widened, and you grabbed Pablo's face with a dropped jaw.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my God."

"You said that already."

"Pablo!"

"Yes, princesa?"

"An adult. You're going to be an adult tomorrow. As in not a teenager."

"We arrive at like 11pm so it's more like I won't be a teenager anymore tonig- are you crying?"

"I'm not going to have a teenage boyfriend anymore!" You threw your arms around him, hugging him so tightly there was a fear of his ribs cracking.

"I feel like I should be offended by this statement."

~

"3...2...1... Happy 20th birthday Pablito!" You said softly, a single cupcake with a lit candle on the top held before the birthday boy. It was the same as the previous year (iykyk), but this time with a red and yellow swirl to match the Spanish national team.

"Thank you, mi vida." He closed his eyes, deep in thought regarding his wish, and blew out the candle. He scooped up a dollop of frosting, placing it on your lips before kissing it gently away.

"I can't believe I get to spend another birthday with you," he whispered out, scared that anything louder would destroy the gentle atmosphere around the two of you.

After sharing more sugary kisses, you fell asleep on Pablo's chest, soothed to sleep by his slow heart beat and rhythmic breathing. You woke before him, placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up to dress, snickering quietly at his snoring. The poor boy was so exhausted. You put on the swimsuit he had picked for you, the material fitting you stunningly. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. The white and red complemented your skin, your hair framing your face still bare and slightly puffed with the remnants of sleep. Gavi's necklace dangled between your collar bones, the metal cool on your skin. Everything on your body was an expression of love.

Stepping out of the bathroom in your bikini and wrap around skirt, you found the bed suspiciously empty. There was a light breeze coming from the terrace, where you found your boyfriend leaning shirtless on the railing. As if sensing your stare, he turned over his shoulder and wave you to join him. The sun was starting to shine in earnest, the smell of the ocean filling your senses. There was no place you would rather be.

"Good morning, beautiful. I know I asked you to wear that, but I almost want you to take it off. You look too good - I'm scared I'll have to beat every other man away with a stick."

He took a seat on one of the deck chairs, and you took your rightful place on his lap, arms around his neck.

"Good thing this strip of beach is private then."

Your lips found his in a deep kiss, fingers traveling to play with the short strands at the nape of his neck. It was an intoxicating thing to kiss Pablo Gavi. His plush lips molded perfectly to yours, bringing you in impossibly closer. He was always so eager, gently nibbling on your bottom lip whenever he could catch it, soft breaths and little whines spurring you on. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop, tongues tangled like high schoolers as you made out in the early August sun. His hands were firm on your hips, more for his benefit than yours. He was eager to drag you to the sand, but knew neither of you would leave the room if he allowed your hips to act on their own accord. He relaxed back, allowing you to take the lead, and whimpered a little louder when you bit his lip. It was your giggling that broke the kiss, and you rested your forehead against his, breathless and chest heaving.

"Big Bad Gavi likes having his lip bit. Who would've thought?"

He whined again, finding the column of your neck and to town, nipping and sucking, unwilling to not have his lips and tongue occupied by you just yet. When you started digging into his biceps, he released you, admiring his handy work.

"Pablo people are going to see." You said, pout on your lips and big eyes trained on your boyfriend. He kissed your jutting bottom lip and lifted you off him.

"Like you said - good thing this beach is private."

~

Pablo had so many moments with you where he thought "she could never be more beautiful than this". The first was the first night you fell asleep on his couch, face peaceful with sleep. The next was under the stadium lights, as he thrust a trophy in your hands and lifted you above his shoulders. Then it was in some French hallway, in a ballgown with no heels as he kissed you senseless, finally brave enough to take what he wanted. In coffee shops and grocery store aisles and on his mattress, he always thought there was no possibility for you to be more stunning. But as you lay stretched out on the sand, eyes closed and muscles relaxed, he had the thought again. The sun tinted your skin slightly, making you gleam like a goddess that had just emerged from the sea. The bright white against your skin had Gavi tingling, wanting to remove the pure material and access what it was protecting.

Your hair was soaked, and you laid on your stomach in the sand to gain some color and dry off after the exertion of swimming with Gavi. The sun was phenomenal on your damp skin, and you had never been more at piece. You felt a hand creep up your back, and suddenly your chest wasn't as supported as it should have been.

"Pablo! Did you just undo my top?"

"I'm just unwrapping my present."

He brought you to sit on his lap once again, your loose top fighting to remain around your neck.

"How private is this beach?"

"You think I would let you go topless if there was a chance another soul would see?"

You felt like a teenager again, embarrassed and looking around frantically for someone who would catch you in such an act with your boyfriend.

"I heard beach sex sucks and I'm not eager to get sand in my vagina."

"We're not going to have sex on the beach. I may be more grown up, but I still like seeing boobs every once in a while."

"So you just want to look at them?"

"Among other things. You want to see my checklist?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, kissing him deeply as he fully removed the fabric from your chest. He brought a hand to your back, pressing you against him, your breasts flush against his chest. It was a thrilling sensation, being topless and against your boyfriend with the sun beating down against you both.

Gavi laid back on the sound with you atop him, unclipping you hair to allow it to fall down your back. In your current situation, you were still covered enough to not face public indecency charges. He played with the strands of hair, weaving his fingers into the locks as his teeth caught your bottom lip and sucked on it like his favorite hard candy.

"I'm going to have sand in my hair."

"Guess we'll just have to take a bath together so I can wash it for you."

You kissed him again, his fingers trailing up your torso and brushing the sides of your boobs, sparking electricity in their path. It was so high school: topless on a beach, making out with your boyfriend. But made you stir low in your stomach, a mix of desire and the deepest form of love. You loved Pablo Gavi. You loved his little antics, you loved the pleasure he brought to every aspect of your life.

"Enjoying your birthday so far?" You asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips, chest heaving against his. Gavi took the opportunity to grab your breasts and squeeze lightly, playing with them like it was his favorite activity in the world.

"More than I can even express."

He brought you against him, arms around you and bodied pressed together, and laid back down.

"So you just wanted to feel me up while we make out?"

"I want to feel you against me, mi amor. I want you to feel how hard my heart beats when I'm around you. I want to do everything that comes to my mind with you. Being topless on the beach. Ordering everything on the hotel menu. Skinny dipping at midnight. Every experience in my life is better when you're in it. I want to make every memory with you, so that when we're old and hold hands in our matching wheelchairs, I can say "Hey remember when we were hot and young and topless making out in Ibiza?" I want to do everything in the world with you."

You pressed your lips to his again, a deep kiss that winded the both of you.

"I love you, Pablo. Happy birthday."

"I love you more, Doctora."

~~~

Okay here it is!! Happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my soul, Pablo Gavi. I love this boy more than I can express, and he represents so much good in my life. I hope his 20th year is filled with every happiness in the world.

As usual, please like, comment, reblog - all the good stuff. If you like this dynamic, I have a full 10 part series of these two idiots in my masterlist. I also have an ongoing Pedri series! Check that out if it's more your speed.

Please also take a moment to check out the links on my pinned post to help families in Palestine. If you don't have the money to donate but still want to help, every comment with a watermelon emoji under my pedri posts = $1 I donate on your behalf. I think that's all I have to say. Love y'all <3

xoxo, GUB

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

I saw your recent post about Emma (ouch), and am wondering if you have any fanfic recommendations involving her?

Hello!

I'm sorry for the very slow answer but I needed to catch up on my Emma readings, or I'd have been able to rec only a couple of fics.

(The titles in blue were lovely recommended to me <3)

I hope there's enough choice 😊

Canonverse: Emma lives

7x13 divergence

refrain by castelia – 8k words – Destiel

Summary: He can’t help but think of the baby he saw yesterday. With chubby cheeks and a wide smile, who had looked so good and so innocent in her crib. Something part Lydia, part Dean, and wholly unique. That tiny girl was his baby. This is his baby girl.

(Or: Sam gets to the motel a little later; Emma and Dean get to finish their conversation. This changes things.)

Rockabye, Baby, Don't You Cry by bejesusness – 3k words

Summary: In theory, tracking down monsters, killing them, and saving people was a simple concept. Dean had been doing it all his life. But when the monster is a young girl who also happens to be his daughter? That's when it gets complicated.

Survival by Ophelia_Yvette – around 800 words

Summary: Emma lives after the events of The Slice Girls.

Monsters Can Be Children Too by Ophelia_Yvette – 2k words

Summary: Another Episode: s07e13 The Slice Girls AU where Dean saves Emma. Because you can’t have too many of those right?

For #spnwomenweek Day 1: Favorite Character

Purgatory arc divergence

I Hope You're Happy Now by orange_8_hands – 2k words

Summary: Emma's in Purgatory, and she's not the only one

Water of the Womb by ScarletPhoenix (orphan_account) – 2k words

Summary: A series of oneshots that explore what Season 8 would have been like if Dean had brought Emma out of Purgatory with him.

a place for us by 8sword – 15k words – Destiel

Summary: Dean lifts a leg and shoves at Cas's hip with his bare foot. He wants to stop thinking about djinn dreams, and Zachariah, and why the hell his subconscious would stick him in a reality where he's a suspenders-wearing pansy and his monster kid is alive. "Would you just lie down?"

(Canon divergence from the last few minutes of "Survival of the Fittest," 7.23.)

Crust (Find Your Filling) by orange_8_hands – 2k words

Summary: At the very least, he's gonna feed his kid. (S8 AU where Emma escapes Purgatory with Dean.)

Post canon

endless road to rediscover by rhinestoneangels (almondrose) – 3k words – Destiel

Summary: In Purgatory, Emma meets a new kind of monster.

golden eyes, tiny hands by rhinestoneangels (almondrose) – 3k words – Destiel

Summary: “Whatcha doin’, bud?” Dean asks, abandoning the conversation to look at the Nephil on his lap. “Fixing it,” Jack says, screwing up his tiny face in concentration. Dean looks at Sam, who has an eyebrow raised, then back at the kid. “Fixing what, buddy?” Dean asks, but then Jack’s eyes glow gold and the room gets dark. “Jack?” “I’m fixing it!” Jack says, palms still pressed to Dean’s cheeks, and a shape starts to take form beside the table, at first something formless and grey, but it goes white as it eases into a silhouette.

Stories focusing on Emma being an Amazon

you know that it's over (nothing left for you here) by astralpenguin – 2k words

Summary: Her sisters were her peers, and they’d quickly banded together. They’d known each other for half their lives. But that was still only a single day. And none of them outwardly doubted anything.

They all wanted to be part of the tribe. Emma wasn’t so sure she did.

the brand by deansmultitudes – around 900 words

Summary: Emma doesn't hate the scar on her wrist. She just wishes it wasn't there.

Purgatory (Themyscira) by Ophelia_Yvette – 1k words

Summary: Emma wakes up in Purgatory.

Dean dealing with Emma death

Coda to "Slice Girls" by 8sword – around 600 words

Summary: The body’s still there when they get back from the Amazons’ cleared-out building.

E is for Emma by frecklesarechocolate – 1k words – Destiel

Summary: There's an emptiness in Dean.

The Grave by SeashellDestihell – 2k words – Destiel

Summary: Dean ruminates on being a parent after the events of 12x14

Alternate Universe

In Another Life by Ophelia_Yvette – 2,5k words

Summary: What if Dean had existed in the Apocalypseverse? And what if that means Emma existed too?

Day 6: Darkness

Mother's Day by h0lm3stuck – around 600 words

Summary: “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s Mother’s Day.”

#1 Dad by chucks_prophet – 2k words – Destiel

Summary: “You’re cute,” Dean comments, because it is cute, the way he’s trying to distract Dean into burning his pancakes, or worse, making him forget this is a competition. So, to help jog both their memories, Dean swipes the butter off Cas’s pancakes with his two fingers and drops it into his pan. It cooks and sizzles before coating the entirety of the pancake like spray-on sunscreen, the way it runs off sides when Dean moves it around with a knife. Cas’s mouth hangs open as he scoffs, “You have officially gone to the dark side, Dean Winchester.”

[lokisprettygirl]

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read Chapter 9 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 10

Summary : After getting your heart broken you lose your way again.

Warning: Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, domestic violence, child abuse, cheating, reader lacks bit of a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

As Eric walked home, he glanced at the bobblehead every few steps, its head bouncing in rhythm with his stride, drawing a smile from him. But the smile faded as a nagging feeling crept in. He pulled out his phone, took a deeper breath, and dialed Regina’s number.

She didn't pick up on the first try so he called again, this time she did .

“Hey can we meet? I need to talk -”

He said to her, his tone was urgent, she was silent for a moment.

“Is it about the competition?” she finally asked. He wished it was but it wasn't her absence that bothered him today.

“So you did remember it huh?” He asked her.

“Of Course I did, I'd never forget anything that's important to you baby”

He sighed at her words. Deep down, he’d always known he and Regina had nothing in common. They were completely different people. He never intended to start anything with her but she was persistent with him, and eventually, he gave in, partly in an attempt to move on. Still, the unresolved emotions that had recently resurfaced left him feeling uneasy, almost as if he were betraying her emotionally. And that wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to be.

He couldn't be that person and disappoint his mama who thought the world of him.

“I'll come to your place” he said to her and before she could even deny it, he hung up.

And it went exactly how he thought it would, She cried, she then began to hit him for breaking her trust and her heart so he grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her subdued.

“You're nothing without me Eric-” She said to him as she pushed him away crossed her arms and began to smile between her tears.

“You think just because you qualified this stupid round, you'll win this competition? Have fame and women falling at your feet? You're wrong-” his jaw clenched but he controlled himself.

“Look Regina..i never wanted to hurt you but you know this relationship isn't good for us.. I'm not even a good boyfriend-”

“Ohhh it was good for you when you wanted to fuck me-” she scoffed “Now that you're done using me, you're leaving huh” he looked at her surprised as she went there.

“It's not about that” he paused before he spoke again “Do you think I don't know about it? You're not in love with me, and I'm not the only one you're seeing, am i?”

Her eyes widened as he said that.

“Wait..no that's not true…whatever she said to you..she's lying -” she said, panic rising beginning to build up in her chest.

“Who's lying?’ he asked just to confirm.

“Y/n.. she said something to you didn't she..he's just a friend, she saw something and found an opportunity to make up a lie-”

“She didn't say anything..Chance did..he saw you this evening with someone else-”

Her mouth hung open as he said that. That's when she began to cry again, she suddenly stepped closer to him and clutched onto him, asking him to forgive her but he had already checked out, he'd rather be alone than be with someone that stressed him out the way she did. A relationship without love was like a suffocating sickness, one he had witnessed half of his life, he saw his mama suffer through it and he didn't want to become the man his father was.

Ruining lives in his wake without a single thought and care.

**********

It's been three days..three days since the night you caught her text on Jake's phone. Three days of you staring at the ceiling, your heart felt as if it would cease to beat any moment.

You couldn't believe it, where had you gone wrong? You tried your best, then why did he cheat? He told you that it was just a mistake, that he was drunk at the Gala and he missed you and she was there and it just happened.

But now you knew that was another lie, his whole demeanor changed when you refused to forgive him, his ego came up, he told you how you'd never find anyone again, certainly not anyone of his calibre..he called you fat and ugly and how you embarassed him, he told you how it wasn't him losing anything here and probably he was right. Because your whole world had turned upside down.

Your phone was filled with messages and missed calls from Eric, also Chance. Your mother had sent a long paragraph of how disappointed she was in you, Jake probably called her and told her you were overreacting like always.

That night your door finally buzzed, you didn't want to move but it kept buzzing so you finally got up and let whoever it was in..you opened the door before stepping into the kitchen, pouring yourself another glass of wine.

When Eric entered your door finally, he saw the condition you were in, your hair was uncombed, you hadn't showered since that night, your eyes were swollen from all the crying. He should have come here when you missed the first session.

He saw the boxes of takeouts scattered all over the coffee table.

“What happened?” He asked so you chuckled in response.

“Do you want some wine…it's a good wine”

“Y/n..talk to me” your eyes welled up as he said that. How were you supposed to talk about it, everytime you even thought of that text, that picture, your heart broke in pieces all over again.

“Turns out Maura isn't just a work friend.. who'd have known right?” you chuckled dryly.

“You're allowed to grieve. But you can't shut everyone out like this-” you cut him off for once as you didn't want to hear an uplifting speech.

“What's the point anymore? Eric? What's the point? If the man I love doesn't love me, if he cheats on me, if I'm not good enough..then what's the point?”

“He doesn't deserve you, she's not the only one in his life” he said to you, your eyes widened, but not in surprise. In shame, of course she wasn't the only one. A part of you knew that already.

“What?”

“I saw him with someone else a few weeks ago” your mouth hung open as he said that “I should have told you…I just didn't know how-”

You wanted to be upset, you wanted to yell and scream but then you felt like a hypocrite because you have been doing the same to him

“Well Your girlfriend is cheating on you too you know -”

“I know..we broke up” he said nonchalantly.

“Great..you are doing alot better than me it seems-”

“Look just come to the gym..work up a sweat, you'll feel better-” you couldn't help but scoff as he said that.

“Are you kidding me right now? The only reason I wanted to do it was because of him, because I didn't want to embarass him anymore, there is no point in making myself suffer through your torture if nobody cares about it..not one person..not Jake..not my parents..no one cares”

His eyes teared up as you said that but he knew you were hurting and lashing, it wasn't personal. He didn't want to take it to heart.

“I care…does that not mean something?”

You scoffed again between your tears as he said that.

“I pay you 1200 a month to care..”

Eric’s jaw tightened at your words.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, for once you saw different emotions flickering in his eyes, ones you had never seen before or cared to notice. You knew you had said something completely out of line to him but at this point you were too far gone to care.

“Right, that's all it is to you isn't it?” he said softly. He turned around to leave but paused at the door.

You opened your mouth, maybe to take it back, maybe to say you didn’t mean it because you didn't, you were just angry and hurt and you were taking it out on the wrong person, you wanted to apologise but the words didn't come. He paused with his hand on the knob.

“The day you will stop feeling sorry for yourself will be the day you'll realise that you're worth so much more than what your boyfriend or anyone else think of you.. and when you do, come back, the door to The Crow will always be open for you”

And then he was gone, leaving you to sulk in self pity, it was as if your world revolved around Jake, he was the Sun and now he was out of your sphere, and you didn't know who else to turn to, a part of you wanted him to come back, maybe beg for your forgiveness, you might have forgiven him too but would you ever feel the way you used to? Would you trust him? Would you ever look at him and not wonder if he was sleeping with someone else? Would you ever be able to look at yourself in the mirror again?

You stopped going to the gym after that, completely quit it. Fitting into that red dress was your motivation, the dress that you wanted to wear when you'd finally meet his parents. What was the point now, anyway? The motivation that once kept you dragging yourself out of bed for 6 a.m workouts had evaporated, along with your appetite for self-discipline. So you barely slept, ate whatever was easy and that involved cheeseburgers everyday. Days turned into weeks and then months.

The mirror became something you avoided entirely.

You stopped checking your phone, too. Messages from Chance eventually slowed, then they stopped. He gave up too. Who could help you if you didn't want to help yourself? Jake, of course, had moved on quickly, he didn't have to hide anymore, he did send you a few messages, asking you to reconsider, when you didn't respond he stopped too.

The ten pounds you’d worked so hard to lose in seven weeks? You gained them back and some more. The sweats you lived in now clung tighter. Your face looked rounder in the few reflections you couldn't avoid because you had to get ready for work.

********

It was a Sunday afternoon when you finally left the apartment for anything other than work. You wandered the grocery store aisles like a ghost , feeling disconnected, going through motions. You hadn’t been back in weeks as you had been eating junk only. You grabbed frozen meals you didn’t care about, snacks you didn’t need, and found yourself in the cereal aisle, staring blankly at shelves.

That’s when you saw her.

A woman in a motorized wheelchair…she seemed to be in her fifties, she was beautiful and had long brown hair. She was reaching toward the top shelf, trying to knock down a box with the string of her purse so you stepped towards her.

“Let me uhhh …just” you said softly, taking the box down she was looking at and offering it to her.

She gave you a grateful smile, her eyes bright despite the lines around them.

“You’re a lifesaver for shorties like me”

You smiled as she said that. She seemed positive about her condition.

“No problem at all” you murmured, unsure why her sweetness made your throat tighten.

“Having a rough week?” she asked so you chuckled.

“That obvious?”

“Comes with age.. whatever it is I'm sure you're strong enough to overcome it”

You gave a nod but before you could respond, another woman came jogging around the corner.

“There you are! I told you not to leave the produce section” She said to her, you could see she was worried.

“Oh, hush, Stella,” another woman chided with a roll of her eyes “I wasn’t lost, I was making conversation with this beautiful young lady” she paused and turned to look at you. “I'm Patricia by the way, this is Stella..my friend and caretaker”

“Hi…I'm y/n” you introduced yourself too. Her expression changed..just for a second. Something flickered behind her eyes as if a doubt she had was confirmed now.

She continued to talk to you as you all moved from aisle to aisle, there was a certain ease about her, a part of you thought you had seen her somewhere but then you figured you must have run by each other since you shared a locality.

For reasons unknown even to you, you ended up at her apartment for a cup of coffee and the promise of the best cookies in the world. That's what her son tells her.

The apartment building was in a fancy posh area a few streets down, unlike yours, it was well kept, and had gated security. Her apartment was on the ground floor.

“My son looked for ages until he found this one-” Patricia said to you as Stella unlocked the door.

“Thoughtful of him” you smiled politely.

As soon as you entered, the place smelled like cinnamon and tea leaves, the kind of comforting scent that made you ache unexpectedly. You stepped inside, removing your shoes.

“Make yourself at home” she mumbled politely so you nodded “Stella help me with the snacks..I'll make tea” She said as she wheeled herself into the kitchen.

You sat down on the couch but then your eyes fell on the photographs hanging on the walls and the dressers.

Pictures of Patricia, Some with Stella, some along with a boy with sharp cheekbones and a crooked smile.

Your heart caught in your throat.

You recognised that boy.

It was Eric.

You stepped closer to the wall, staring at a photo of him with Patricia, it was taken recently because he still had the same haircut unlike his teen years when he had full hair, he was sitting on the floor..she was oiling his hair or giving him a massage, there was a smile on his face, the kind you had never seen before.

“That's my son Eric..he has his own gym at the 5th block in the west.. The Crow…heard of it?” Patricia said from behind you, gently placing the tea tray down. Stella accompanied him. Her son. She was the woman he was speaking to on the phone that day wasn't she? The one who adopted him.

“Yeah I used to go there..” you gulped, eyes tearing up as the memory of that night kicked in. What you had said to him. How you had taken his kindness, his support for granted and turned it ugly.

Later that night when you reached home, You finally built the courage and stepped on the scale.

155.9

You stepped off the scale and then did it again, as if that would change how much you weighed. Same number. Then you took your clothes off. It barely moved 155.4.

Your stomach twisted.. not just from the number, but from what it represented. How far you had let yourself fall.

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall.

You stepped off the scale, tied your hair up, and stared at your naked body in the mirror, you seemed worse than from where you had started this journey, you felt bloated, tired, and still hurting. But beneath all that.. something sparked... A flash of the woman you wanted to be, a woman you could be if you just worked hard at taking care of yourself.

You were getting better and stronger, he made you stronger, and then you gave up on it, on all of it. You wiped your tears and dressed up, the only legging that used to fit didn't even fit anymore. You didn't want to cut off your blood supply so you opted to wear a trouser instead.

Then you grabbed your old gym bag from under the bed and began stuffing it with your water bottle, your wallet and shoes.

Took ten minutes to brisk walk to the gym and you were breathless by the end of it.

As you entered you realised he was in the process of closing up. Your fingers clutched around the strap of the bag, a part of you wanted to turn around and leave but another knew it was now or never.

The moment he saw you from the glass door, he paused, then he entered the front desk area.

“Ummm I'd like a membership” you said to him, acting as if you didn't know him. You felt just the way you did the first time but somehow worse. You surely were 5lbs heavier.

“You're already registered, just pay the monthly fee” he said to you so you pulled out your wallet and passed a hundred dollars bill to him.

“Ummmm I need a trainer.. Do you have a slot open?” Your eyes teared up, lips almost trembling, fearing that he'd reject you. He walked around the desk and then he did something unexpected, something you didn't know you needed so badly.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he hugged you. He wasn't your trainer anymore, not for another few minutes so he needed a moment of levity to let you know that you weren't alone in this.

After a moment of shock your arms wrapped around his waist. And then you cried, you cried for minutes until you couldn't anymore.

“You said to come when I stop feeling sorry, but I still feel it..I still feel awful and I pity myself” you mumbled, Your tears soaking his shirt.

“I know you do..but it takes time. It's not magic, it won't happen overnight, you need to be patient. One step at a time okay? And you took one tonight so you have already begun” he mumbled softly, his voice kind and gentle..

Then he slowly pulled away.

“Help me Eric..fix me” you mumbled as you wiped your tears, determined to not give up this time “And I’m so sorry”

“For what exactly?” he asked you.

“For saying what I said that night. For… lashing out at you when you were just trying to help me. For taking everything you did for me and throwing it back at you like it didn’t matter at all when it meant everything. It did. You're the only person who has ever believed in me”

Your voice choked on your tears, he teared up too.

Meeting his mother today, you knew now, he wasn't just kind to you, or his clients, he was a good man, working tirelessly so he could spoil his mother, offer her luxury she never had before. That's why he needed to win that competition.

“You don't need fixing, you just need reminding, I'll help you, I'll train you. But you don't pay me this time, let me be here, as a friend okay? Is that okay?”

He asked softly and you nodded immediately.

“Next time you feel like quitting you come to me before and not after”

He wiped your tears from your cheeks before he stepped away from you and went behind the desk. He had a way about himself, a certain ease, he never made you feel embarrassed or conscious. You could see where he learned that trait from.

“I heard you made it to the finals.. congratulations” you said to him, you had seen a post on Instagram from NPC's official account.

“Thanks..it's next month”

“I'll be there this time” you gave him a small smile so he returned it. He had been waiting for this day, for you to wake up and choose yourself for once. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest but he didn't show, didn't show how happy he felt to see you walk through these doors again.

You watched as he pulled out your file from the drawer.

“Tomorrow 6 then?” you asked so he shook his head.

“Mmmm no… you're already here, we can start now”

“You were going to close-”

“Friend privilege” he said to you so you smiled, a genuine hearty smile that came naturally after three months.

That night as you finally laid down in bed, your muscles ached but in a good way. When he saw 155 on the scale, he simply noted it down, didn't make a comment, assured you that some of it was just water weight that you'll lose in two weeks.

Eric : No cheeseburgers for breakfast, lunch and dinner from tomorrow.

You smiled as you read the message before you began to type.

You : Yes Sir. I guess another grocery trip is required

Eric : Thanks for helping my mom today by the way. I appreciate that alot.

And you smiled again.

Your heart was still broken, still wondering why you weren't enough but for once when you closed your eyes that night you didn't think about Jake or who he was spending his nights with, you thought about Eric and how amazing how kind, how remarkable he truly was.

And how warm and safe you had felt when he had his arms around you.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted @a-differentbrandof-beans @kikibit @venuslayla23-blog @somedayimagines @sn0wybowie-blog

[my-castles-crumbling]

OMG Clandestine is done!

I am so so so excited to say I just posted the epilogue to Clandestine! Featuring a beautiful commission from @itslotuseater!

Ships: Jegulus, background wolfstar, dorlene, pandalily, rosekiller Rating: M Length: 142k (FINISHED! COMPLETED! AHH!)

Summary:

He was crying. “You can do that?” He repeated, feeling like he was in some sort of dream. And then, Sirius seemed to realize. Because for a twelve-year-old, he was decently smart, and knew him better than anyone. “D’you…d’you want to do that, Reggie? I thought…I thought it was just a game?” But he could only shake his head. Because it wasn't a game. He was a boy. And he could tell from Sirius's nervously resigned expression that Sirius knew it, too. "It's...not a game." --- There's not enough Trans Regulus Black, so here's a fic to help fix the problem. Rated mature for lots of references to transphobia and Walburga Black being a piece of shit. COMPLETED (I'm not crying, you are)

Ahhh, my long-winded thank-you note:

First and foremost, thank you to Arson, my amazing Alpha Reader who brainrotted with me throughout almost the entire process. I literally could not have finished this without you, and I am so thankful to have you in my life. You've helped me through so many cases of horrible Writer's Block, encouraged me whenever I needed it, and you're an amazing friend. I hope you love your "Barty and Evan's Bitch" shirt :D

Second, to my wife, who literally dealt with me talking about this fic for TEN MONTHS. You're literally the most amazing and supportive person in my life, and I love you more than words. Thank you for being the James to my Regulus.

Third, to my Beta Reader, Kat, who is still wading through the trenches of this fic finding all my mistakes. I am so glad to have you and thank you for dealing with all of my errors and answering my messages at odd hours of the night.

Fourth, to all of the people who have encouraged me: Abby, Danielle, Kelz, everyone on the discord servers who has seen me struggle, you guys are amazing and I am so thankful to you.

Fifth, to the lovely people who created fanart for this fic. You all are amazing and you brought this to life. I bow down to you, truly, you are so incredibly talented.

Sixth, to the people who I interviewed about dysphoria and being on T, so I could have a more well-rounded understanding about Regulus's experience. Though I identify as trans, I am so thankful that other trans people were willing to give their experiences in areas I wanted to describe as accurately as possible.

And last, to all of you, who read and kudosed and inboxed and recommended and commented and kept me going. You all are amazing, and you've made this such a positive experience. This fic really was for me, to work through my own gender an discover about myself, and I am so thankful you have been here along this journey.

I want to reiterate that this is one trans person's journey, but I think it's so important to have representation in all forms of media. I'm hoping that my version of Reggie has helped with that a little bit! He's my baby, and he deserves all the good things.

Keep an eye out for the B-sides of this fic! I'll add a chapter to this work linking to it, so if you're subscribed to this, you'll get an e-mail. I'll also be editing this work to fix all the errors, and I'll be doing the B-sides as I go. It probably won't be for a couple of weeks, since I am now working, and I won't have any strict posting schedule, but I'm excited for those as well!

I love you all. Thanks for being a part of this journey.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

I'm Not That Girl ~ Bucky's Version

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MUSICAL INSPIRED FIC MASTERLIST

40's!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,140ish

Request:  hi lovely!! i hope you're doing well! can i request 40s!bucky with i'm not that girl?  i love wicked sm haha i've seen it three times on broadway and am going to see the movie again once finals are over

Warning(s): unrequited love

“Hands touch, eyes meet

Sudden silence, sudden heat

Hearts leap in a giddy whirl

He could be that boy

But I’m not that girl”

Your heart was hammering against your chest as Bucky pulled you onto the dance floor. His smile was as big as ever, causing his eyes to shine and making you feel so lucky to be so close to him. If only you could always be this close to him.

“Come on, doll!” Bucky laughed. “Don’t make me to all the work!”

You smiled and began pulling your weight in the dance. Though the dance hall was crowded, it felt like it was just two of you. Almost anytime you spent with Bucky felt like that. The world around you both was silent and still, allowing you to lean too much into your heart.

“She’s here!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes locked on the entrance of the dance hall. “Y/N, she’s here!”

Your heart fell as he let you go and headed straight for the woman who held his heart. Dot.

“Don’t dream too far

Don’t lose sight of who you are

Don’t remember that rush of joy

He could be that boy

I’m not that girl”

“Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted with that smile heart-stopping smile. 

“Hey, Buck,” you responded. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a guy stop by to see his best girl?”

Best girl. You always felt joy when he called you that, causing you to push aside the true meaning of that title. You weren’t truly his best girl, but his best friend aside from Steve. 

“Plus, I need to talk to you,” he continued, stepping into your apartment. “I need some advice about Dot.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You took a deep breath as you closed the door, trying to reign in your emotions.

“I think I love her.”

Your hand fell from the handle of the door as your heart shattered. “Oh?” You turned around and headed into the kitchen to fix up a snack. You needed to focus on something else right now or you were going to lose it in front of Bucky.

“Yeah. She’s perfect, doll. Like… the best thing that’s every happened to me.”

“That’s great, Buck. What advice to you need?”

“I need to know how to tell her. How do I tell her that I love her? Do I get flowers? Tell her while dancing? Take her out to a fancy dinner—“

“Just tell her, Buck. No frills. If she loves you back, she just wants to know you love her. That’s all she cares about.”

“You think?”

You sighed. “I know."

��Every so often we long to steal

To the land of what-might-have-been

But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel

When reality sets back in”

Your dreams were the only place that the wishes of your heart came true. Bucky chose you. Bucky loved you. You were truly his best girl.

But then you would wake and remember the truth. Bucky loved Dot and Dot loved him. You were just someone in his life, for now.

It was the early morning and you had just woken up from one of your dreams when a knock sounded at your apartment door. When great caution, you went over and opened it. You were surprised to find Bucky standing on the other side. But even more surprised to find him in military uniform.

“Bucky?” You questioned. “What’s going on? What are you wearing?”

“I know that I should have told you sooner, doll,” Bucky’s voice was laced with guilt. “But I didn’t know how… I’m shipping out to England.”

“What? When?”

“Now.”

There was no point in stopping the tears.

“Hey, hey, please don’t cry,” he pled as he stepped closer, his hands coming up to hold your face. “You know I can’t stand to see my best girl cry.”

“You should’ve told me sooner,” you cried. “I deserved to know.”

“I know, I know… I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of saying goodbye to you.”

“Then don’t.”

He gave you a sad smile. “Can’t do that, doll. But… you can come see me off. I would really love it if my best girl was there.”

“Blithe smile, lithe limb

She who’s winsome, she wins him

Gold hair with a gentle curl

That’s the girl he chose

And Heaven knows

I’m not that girl”

Dot was sobbing as Bucky held her close. You and Steve stood to the side, watching the scene as military personal hurried around the shipyard. Other goodbyes were happening around you, almost allowing the scent of tears to fill the area. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Steve whispered. He was the only one who knew of your feelings. He had figured them out just by watching you.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes on the couple. “I always knew that I wasn’t Bucky’s type.”

“Y/N—“

“Don’t try to make me feel better, Steve. I really don’t want it.”

Your heart clenched as Bucky brushed Dot’s golden hair from her face and gave her a kiss. A stray tear slipped down your face and you quickly wiped it away.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, turning around.

“Y/N!” Steve tried to keep you there, but you weaved through the crowd before he could.

“Don’t wish, don’t start

Wishing only wounds the heart

I wasn’t born for the rose and the pearl

There’s a girl I know

He loves her so”

You hoped that Bucky would write to you, but he never did. You heard that Dot was receiving letters and small gifts. Pressed flowers, poems, drawings, and a small pearl. Every time you got an update from Steve about Bucky it was due to his letters to Dot. It only hurt you further.

One day, Dot showed up at your apartment. You were curious and allowed her to come in.

“Bucky asked me to keep this a secret,” Dot explained as she seated herself on the couch. “But I know he didn’t keep any secrets from you and I just had to tell someone!”

“About what?” You questioned.

“Bucky sent a pearl in his latest letter. With the pearl, he asked me to marry him.” And you thought your life couldn’t get any worse. “Of course, I responded with a yes. We’re going to get married as soon as he returns.”

You pressed out a fake smile. “Congrats, Dot.” Your voice wobbled. “I’m happy for the two of you.”

“I knew you would be. I feel so much better now that someone knows.”

Dot didn’t stay much longer. It was a good thing, because you weren’t in a good place. As soon as she was gone, you had collapsed into a puddle of tears. Your dream was over. Bucky chose Dot over you. He loved her and not you.

“I’m not that girl”

Part 2 >

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three's a Crowd 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Abnesti, Steve Rogers, Steve Kemp

Summary: You're offered a deal without all the details.

Note: I'm stupid okay and fixed the description, etc.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You mop your face with the crumpled tissues. You swear, you cry more about people you never met than your own grandmother. You just can’t help it. No one should ever feel this pain, yet here’s a whole room of people struggling. Just like you. 

Martin stares at the floor as the room sinks into the silent aftermath of his words. He lost his daughter in a crash ten years ago and he’s still here. You can see in his posture, in his eyes, that he still feels it as if it were yesterday. 

You pinch your nose with the kleenex and gulp. You flutter your lashes and your gaze snags on another figure. Steve sits with one foot up on the bar of the stool, the other extended to the floor. A man his size makes the tall stools look small. His eyes crinkle before you look away. 

Rita sighs, “thank you everyone for being here. It’s always nice to have you. As usual, there are refreshments. Please have some before you go. I’ll be here for a bit if anyone needs to chat.” She clasps her hands together and gives a forlorn smile. “Don’t forget to do your journalling.” 

Martin gets up first. He doesn’t stay. He goes to get his coat from the rack of hangers. You slide off your seat as a few others trickle over to the table of cups next to an insulated urn and tray of cookies. 

You check the time. You have the time to get a few before your shift. You wait your turn and sense another behind you. You grab a napkin and take one of the cookies from the array of chocolate, macadamia, and oatmeal. You glance over, and up, at Steve. 

“You off to work?” He asks as he notes your uniform. 

“Yeah, again,” you stop and fill a cup of coffee. 

“Mm, I couldn’t imagine working after all this,” he says. 

“Gotta pay the bills,” you shrug. “I... I hope it’s not overstepping but I liked what you said about your wife today. About how missing her is a reminder of how lucky you were to meet her.” You chew your lip and your eyes tinge. You sniffle. “I’m sorry you lost her.” 

“Yes, well,” he takes a cup of his own. 

He wears a blazer over a dark red shirt. The cut looks expensive; too expensive for here. And the gold frame of his glasses are a bit dated but the Prada on the arm suggests not. You always catch yourself judging and feel bad. You just can’t help but think he could probably afford better than the free community grief counseling. 

“We’ve all lost someone,” he continues. “Your grandmother, right?” 

“Uh, yes,” you frown. “She raised me.” 

“Sounds like a very noble woman,” he remarks. “Oh, don’t let me keep you,” he checks his watch. The bend of his arm causes his muscles to bulge in his sleeve. “I hope it is a quick night for you.” 

“Thanks, Steve. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Next week,” he assures you and blows over his cup. 

You stop to grab your fleece-lined hoodie before you head out. It’s bitterly cold out but your old wool coat went missing in the work breakroom. At your second job. The first one, you at least get a locker. You tried to factor a replacement from your next check but most of that will go to rent. 

You sigh as you approach the stop, nursing the hot coffee and nibbling on the cookie. There’s no shelter there. The winds swirl around you and seep through your thrifted sweater. Can’t complain for a four dollar bargain. 

A car slows as it passes and the tinted window rolls down. It’s nice. Sleek. Fancy. Well above what someone working a drive-thru window can afford. Steve shoves his large hand out and waves. You wave back, biting down on your embarrassment. 

You turn your attention up the street and watch for the bus. When it comes, the last of your coffee is cold and your fingers are tingling but numb. You sit and rub your palms together as you watch through the window. 

You get to the burger place right before you’re set to start. You clock in and put on the mandated visor and start your vigil in the window. You’re not allowed to wear any coat except the company-issued one but you can’t afford to order one. So you shiver in your long-sleeved tee and keep the window closed between customers. 

A deep voice greets you from the speaker, “hello, um, might I ask what the wacky sauce is?” 

You give it some thought. No one’s ever really asked. They just order extra and throw a fit if you forget it. You turn and grab a packet and hurriedly examine the ingredients, droning out an ‘ummmmmmm’ into the microphone. You do your best to explain. 

“Mm, can I get the double without that?”  

You agree. It sounds gross once you look at the label. You key in their order as they make it a combo with your prompting. You tell them to drive around and get the machine ready for payment. 

You slide the window open and hold back a brrr. You nearly cough as you’re greeted by a familiar face. It’s Steve. 

“Huh, what are the odds? I thought you sound familiar.” He smirks. 

“Oh, hi,” you offer the screen for him to tap his card. You didn’t take him for the fastfood sort. 

“Bust night,” he muses. 

“A little,” you agree. “Do you need your receipt. 

“No, thanks, sweetie,” he winks. “Nice to see a friendly face.” 

He slowly rolls away and you slide the window shut. Ugh, you’re freezing. Not to mention a bit ashamed. It’s not hard to guess where you work since you wear your uniform all too often to the meetings, but it’s another to be seen out in the wild. 

Does it really matter? The group is not about judging. It’s about listening. If anything, a guy like him will forget this all in the shadow of the exciting things going on in his life. 

[angel-bunnie]

🦇 The Littlest Bat 🦇

Cg! Alfred Pennyworth Fic

Summary: Being a part of the batfamily takes a toll when you feel like you're not doing enough. Thankfully, a certain butler knows just how to help.

This is a late birthday gift for @cutiecorner !!! This is also my very first agere fic so I hope I'm doing it right! Sorry this took me so long! I got really nervous about posting it 😭 But I hope you had an amazing birthday, Mouse!! 🫂🩷🩷🩷

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Master, I do believe it's time for you to retire for the evening", Alfred's soft voice carried through the room. The sound reached a certain bat's ears.

"Alfred. You know I have to finish this project... Gimme another hour or two."

He sighed and looked down at his pocket watch. "With all due respect, Master, you requested "another hour or two" 4 hours ago."

Your eyes widened at that. How long had you been down here working again? Last time you checked the clock, it read 5:42 PM. You turn to the clock and pale as it read 12:57 AM.

When the heck did it-

"Master? Can you hear me?"

"H-huh? Oh... Yeah! I hear you, Alfred. I swear I'm almost done."

Alfred raised a brow and softly shook his head. His footsteps got closer until you felt a hand on your shoulder. The kind bulter smiled softly.

"Dare I say, I think it's time for someone to get some rest, wouldn't you say so, tiny bat?" he asked gently.

Now that he mentioned it, it had been an awful long time since you regressed. Long days and endless nights of schoolwork, watching screens, and fixing up what you could had taken a lot out of you. And a nap did sound really good right about now... Wait! What were you thinking?

"Alfred you know I can't do that right now. I need to finish this for Bruce! He really needs this done as soon as possible..." You huffed, rubbing your tired eyes in hopes of getting some energy back.

You tried to help in every way you could. Bruce forbade you to go on missions. But that didn't mean you couldn't assist in other ways. And most times, that meant helping tidy up the house, fixing up gadgets or drawing out designs for new ones when you weren't buried in schoolwork.

"I do remember, and I also remember Master Bruce telling you to take it easy for the next few weeks due to how late you've been staying up." The butler sighs and looks at you with soft eyes. He really didn't want you pushing yourself like this.

"It's admirable, little bat. It really is. But you're only human-"

"Don't." You quickly interrupted as you frowned at him.

"Bruce is only human and he fights crime every night! Tim, Dick, Jay, even Damian! If everyone's so human then why am I the only one who can't be out there?! I wanna help too!!"

Your eyes clouded with tears and before you knew it, you were having a full on cry. It just wasn't fair. To stay inside and do so little. At least in your mind it felt that way.

Alfred stood there patiently, waiting until the tension left your shoulders to gently rub small circles in your back.

"There there, little bat. Who said you're not helping? You do so much for everyone here. Even me."

A whine leaves your throat as you bury your face in his shoulder.

The butler reaches into his pocket and gently wipes your tears with his handkerchief. "You are always helping us, little darling. Even when you don't think you are. The boys have told me themselves."

This made you look up at him. "Really?"

Alfred smiled at the hopeful expression on your face. "Of course, dear. I'd say you help us all out the most. Remember when you helped me wash the dishes last week?"

"Y-yeah... But it wasn't that big of a deal-"

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You helped me get ahead of the chores and I got to have a bit more time to myself."

A look of surprise came across your face. You had no idea it mattered that much to him to do something so small.

"And remember when you helped Master Tim test out his new program for his computer? Or when you helped Master Dick find all his laundry? Goodness, even Master Damian and Master Jason have needed your aid."

Now that you thought about it. You suppose you did help a little bit more than you thought.

"Now how about we get you away from all these screens and we get you ready for bed? Does that sound alright to you, dear heart?"

"'Kay Alfie..." You mumbled as you stood up from your chair, took his hand, and walked with him back to your room.

"There's my littlest bat. Good to have you back, dear." He smiles softly as he rubs your back.

You gave a sleepy giggle at Alfred's words. Maybe being the littlest bat isn't so bad after all.

[olderthannetfic]

Does anyone have any tips on how to start writing by hand again? Not, from, like, a motor skills issue, but more from like a...focus issue/ADHD lens i guess?

I earnestly haven't written anything by hand in years. (I mean I still writes notes to myself and things like that but I mean writing in the creative sense.) Typing is faster for me, as it is for most people, but like, I USED to be able to write stories by hand! I want to get back into it because when I write on a device I'm too tempted to switch tabs and bullshit around on social media or games. Which is also an issue yes lol but for now I just want to fix a symptom, not a problem. I want to write again! I want to do it high school detention style, electronics locked away in another room and I just gotta write by hand! I want my hand to be cramping so badly by the time I'm done that when I crack my wrist I cry! Ok...maybe not that intense. But :P

This is either gonna sound really weird or really normal, but -- I feel like my brain is too fast for my hands. Or my hand is too slow for my brain. I just legit do not have the patience to write anything longform.

How do y'all recommend I get back into it and retrain myself? Should I maybe start with transcribing an already-typed fic? Should I start off with annotating books (if you're the type of person who thinks no one should ever write in books, pretend I said "take notes on a separate piece of paper", ok?) Obviously i know to start small and not try to immediately become Victor Hugo or anything like that, but I am wondering if anyone has any general advice on retraining that muscle.

I did go on google and reddit to try to find stuff but I guess I don't have the Search Engine Fu to word what I'm trying to say (most of the articles and posts were about, like, PT, or how to be less sloppy, and stuff) or it just seemed too...fluffy. Like "write in a pretty notebook uwu use your favorite pen!" Or just general focus/writing advice (quiet space etc) and not specifically on the Very Basic Skill of writing by hand, which is fair, lol. Plus honestly I'd rather get feedback from people I "know" even if it's just anonymously through fandom kvetching :)

I'd prefer tips specifically from someone who has genuinely retrained themself at this or at something that requires similar cognitive skills (I've worded that way too medically for such a silly problem ha i know), but obviously all input is appreciated!

--

My brain is definitely too fast for my hands. I usually prefer to type for that reason when I'm writing fiction, but I did just start using a new notebook with lovely mushrooms on it. I'm planning my porch redecoration/repainting, a bunch of knitting, decluttering, etc.

My biggest piece of advice is to get a really good pen. It doesn't need to be expensive, but it does need to have ink that flows beautifully. A frustrating pen is the death knell of getting anything done.

Anything that the shiny-light-chasing brain squirrels are supposed to calm down enough to do regularly can be built up to. It requires consistency. Set aside time every day. Treat it like those meditation exercises where the objective is less about never having a stray thought and more about coming back to the practice and re-clearing your mind every time it wanders.

[alchely]

My Top Gallavich fics

So, under the advice of the lovely @iangallagherisadeadman I've decided to compile a favorites Gallavich fic list along with a brief rec of each, this won't be a strict top 10 cause I'm not gonna torture myself into excluding some of these stories on some made-up self imposed arbitrary rules.

A bunch of disclaimers: most of these fics are long fics, going from 30k words up, I'm not purposefully excluding shorter fics, I have read plenty of them, but they do have a harder time sticking in my head months after reading.

Most of these fics will be explicit, just read the tags on the fic itself if you want to find out more.

Some of these fics don't have links because the authors chose to lock them and as such make them unlinkable, in order to read them you will need to go through the author's page while you're logged in your AO3 account.

This ended up ballooning out of control and is A LOT longer than ten fics, I apologize in advance :p.

YOU'LL NEVER SEE US AGAIN – spoonfulstar - 231k words

Mickey and Ian have been students at Marceline boarding school their whole lives, as their time at the institute draws toward the end they will start to discover many things, about themselves, about each other and about the world they live in.

THIS FIC! I CRIED! The number of fanfiction that are able to make me cry can be counted on a singular hand, the emotional stakes get higher and higher as the story goes on, leading to a beautiful and bittersweet climax.

This story will make you think and feel deeply about topics you'd never think a shameless fic would delve into.

I am obsessed with Mickey in this fic, he and Ian grow up in an environment that could not be more removed from South Side Chicago and yet his personality is still so recognizably and distinctly Mickey.

The story goes very dark at times, and the fic itself could be considered lengthy, but I assure you the author has made sure to not make you feel it. Those 200k words flowed so well the story did not feel long at all.

HELP ME (TEAR DOWN MY REASON) – wehangout - 34k words

Mickey is a detective and Ian becomes a suspect in an investigation except Mickey already knows him because he's his favorite dancer.

This fic falls under the umbrella of fics where “Mickey is so in love with Ian he does something unbelievably crazy”.

Oooh boy, this fic, it's written in second person (yes you've read that right), tbh out of all fics I've read from this author I think this one was the easiest to adjust mentally to the change in perspective.

I loved Mickey’s “love” in this, just… This raw connection to Ian, the perfect cocktail of feelings, I could read that all day long.

IN ANOTHER WORLD – Roryonic - 249k words

Mickey does not get sent to prison at the end of S5, what happens after and how his presence influences future events (mostly Ian, but also every other Gallagher as well as his own family).

As far as I'm concerned this fic is the closest to a perfect S6 and beyond fix-it. The dialogue writing in this story is so close to canon Shameless that I could picture entire scenes in my head with the actors playing the characters, with their body and personality quirks.

Sometimes I find myself describing this fic like it's the actual show's deleted scenes, “Look, Mickey has his own storyline! And Mandy is here! And the existence of Yevgeni does not become a plot hole!”

There are some Mickey lines in this fic that to me are as canon as if they'd been in the show. Absolutely iconic writing.

I love this author so here's a rec of some of their other longfics, however I highly suggest a lot of their other much shorter stuff as well:

BATTLESHIPS AND LOVE BOATS: Ian and Mickey start their “no strings attached” kind of sex relationship a little later than canon but their attraction and love is just as strong. This is a sort of High School AU that turns into a Prison AU that turns into something else and every shift is just as lovely as the next.

YOU SMELL LIKE LOVE: Ian and Mickey are childhood friends, to the point that the rest of the Gallaghers might as well consider Mickey a seventh brother, mmmh, I sure wonder how things will start to change. Look, I never thought I'd love a childhood friends AU for Gallavich yet here I am, if it's good it's good.

ME AND THE DEVIL: Mickey unconsciously calls for a vengeance demon and Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, because Mickey is a stubborn dumbass they fall in love instead. This story has a lot of twists and turns and the premise is only the very beginning of the story. I LOVED it!

THE INCREASINGLY POOR DECISIONS OF IAN GALLAGHER – Shamelessquestions - 309k words

Ian is a dancer in a club, he accidentally gets involved in the affair of a dangerous mafia don, but the true danger is the attraction he and the mafioso’s right hand Mickey feel for each other as soon as they meet.

What. A. Classic. Truly, an unforgettable story, and I don't mean this in hyperbole, I read this story around… 2016/2017 during my second round in the Shameless fandom, then I read countless other fics in a lot of other fandom and yet this story was the only one that my mind retained from back then, to the point that I could still remember some of the finer details as well as the final plot twists when I came back to reread it.

The plot is constructed beautifully and the original characters (part of the Shamelessquestions fanfiction universe, as they come back time and time again in every one of their AU to fulfill their role in the story) are just as vibrant.

What a story, truly.

Favorite original character in this AU: Sal, his downfall is so satisfying and yet so pitiful to read.

TEENAGERS SCARE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME – Mellow_Yellow - 221k words

Ian finds something scary and calls Mickey for help, even though they had only reconnected that very day after two years of not seeing each other. Together, they get sucked into a situation they weren't at all prepared for. Can they even admit that they're in over their head?

The very beginning of this fic is SO cinematic it grabbed my interest from the very first scene and didn't let go until the end, DO NOT search for spoilers.

The only warning I'll give is that it does deal with a bit of gore and what I'm personally gonna define as slight psychological horror. That's it. Enjoy!

BROKE STRAIGHT BOYS – dancermk - 66k words

Mickey becomes a porn actor for a site where he has to pretend he's straight and not enjoying the copious amount of gay sex he's having on camera, enter Ian, another actor under the same agency and their off the chart physical chemistry.

This story has, needless to say, some really, really good smut. I especially loved their first time together, but every sex scene in this story is seared in my mind.

ETHERIZED AGAINST THE SKY – Snarfle - 213k words

So, I debated whether I should add this fic or not, but I think if there is one fic that will stay in my mind long after this Shameless binge of the past couple of months it's this one, and it should absolutely become one of those fic that everyone in the fandom should read.

After Mickey gets shot by Kash his life takes a completely different direction and he ends up in a group home where, through many difficult times, he turns his life around.

So many iconic moments in this fic, some funny as fuck, some sad, some so absurd that I'm surprised they weren't lifted straight from Shameless, one so gruesome in the very first chapter that I was surprised to have such a visceral feeling from just words on a screen. Yeah, this story will stay with me for a long time.

OLD RULES FOR NEW SIDE PIECES – Shamelessquestions - 217k words

Ian is a Fed and he spots Mickey looking suspicious in an art museum, the mutual attraction is overwhelming, Mickey is not what he seems and Ian is already with someone else, but that's not gonna stop him from pursuing what he and Mickey have.

Putting it as bluntly as I can, this fic made me face the realization that I love cheating fics (if the cheating happens to someone else to bring together the endgame couple). I have already reread this fic twice and I could probably go for another one and not get tired of it, it's that good, and out of all this author's fics it's probably my favorite.

Favorite original characters in this AU: It's a three way tie between Dre, Ivan and Carrie, they're all very captivating in this story.

Other fic from this author I'd recommend cause I really love their style:

LOST IN TRANSLATION: Ian meets a very attractive man while he's in Ukraine who doesn't speak English, a mere language barrier won't stop him from flirting for hours. (adorable)

YOU MAKE ME FEEL HUMAN – Dragona - 66k words

Ian is an assassin, he meets Mickey and thus begins a very sick love story.

To say I'm obsessed with this fic is an understatement, I suggest to everyone to just go read the original author’s own description of the fic, it sets the tone of the story magnificently.

This is an Ian Gallagher that almost resembles Jerome (also played by Cameron in Gotham) but like… a slightly more subdued and saner S1/S2 version of him. I love the layers that get peeled right in front of my eyes, the madness that creeps in a bit more every chapter. I LOVE this story.

DRIED INK - 87k words

This fic combines my two favorite Gallavich-specific tropes, one being ‘Mickey comes back from prison after s6, Ian is with someone else’ and ‘Ian cheats on that someone else for Mickey’

I love the Gallaghers in this and how unsurprised they are at Ian going back to Mickey right away. It's a little jewel of a fic.

Mickey tries SO hard to stop himself and Ian in this but their love is too magnetic, they're irresistible to each other.

THE QUESTION OF NORMAL – blue_newman - 92k words

Ian is a prison counselor, Mickey is in prison, they fall in love and it's beautiful and Ian is incredibly devoted to Mickey in this fic and I fell in love with them both in this.

KINDA RAW – catgrassplantdad - 6k

Quite simply this is my favorite short pwp fic.

Illustrating those “five times” in one night that Mickey references in 11x01.

This fic is so hot, I love it <3

QUATERVOIS – DodgerBear - 51k words

Soldier Mickey gets stationed in the middle of nowhere and meets a farmer called Ian who makes him question everything.

Falling under the same umbrella of “Mickey does something crazy for Ian” fics and this is why it stuck in my mind even if it's been a while since I've read it.

I LOVE this story, their dialogues and everything that happens in it. The setting is lovely and you will fall in love with the description of Ian’s farm.

Other fic by the same author that I also loved:

BURDEN OF PROOF: Cop Mickey gets caught in a legal battle between the two oldest Gallagher brothers, something doesn't feel right though…

THE WORDS HE DOESN'T SAY: Mickey is released before Ian in s10 and has to meet a court-mandated therapist. The story is from the therapist POV and goes AU from the beginning of s10 in that Mickey gets involved back into Yev and Svetlana’s life, the dialogue is, quite obviously, the main attraction of the story and it's really well done. (Also, written in first person).

THE MENAGERIE – CrossMyDNA - 147k words

Ian decides to re-explore his bdsm preferences at The Menagerie where he meets sub extraordinaire Mickey on his very first visit.

Shameless is undoubtedly the fandom that opened my eyes to what bdsm could be back in… approx 2016? When that other popular bdsm fic was still around *ahem*.

So it definitely feels like a sign that coming back into the fandom this fic now exists and is SO GOOD.

Obviously it's very explicit, the smut in this fic is one of the best I've ever read.

The chemistry between Ian and Mickey sizzles off the screen and can absolutely be felt even in moments not of the nsfw variety, absolutely recommended!

MICKEY MILKOVICH’S GUIDE TO FLIRTING – whatwouldmickeydo - 40k words

An s2 “missing moments” between Gallavich, completely canon compliant, all under the pretense that Mickey is following a step by step guide to flirting.

I wish this fic was describing canon moments, not kidding a single bit, I wish I could somehow magically manifest these scenes into existence they're that good and fit that well into canon.

M8TE – gallawitch - 53k words

Omegaverse fic where Ian and Mickey both start using an app and end up matching with each other, even though a connection is made almost instinctively, coming to terms with it with a sound mind will take a bit longer…

Hey,had to have at least one of these on here lol

I love omegaverse and this was everything I wanted from it, couldn't have asked for anything better really <3.

SHACKLED – MyRelapse - 19k words

Ian has a change of heart and he decides that Mickey IS the one he wants, even if he's still in prison, so he keeps in contact and goes through every hoop imaginable to have him back as soon as possible.

Reading this made me so happy like I could burst, love it.

WAITING ON MY OWN TOO LONG – Ride4812 - 266k words

This rec more than any other on this list is what I'm gonna consider self indulgent because it covers the trope I always craved to read in such a satisfying way: Canon AU where Mickey comes back from prison after 8 years, Ian has found someone else but the moment the two meet again they fall back into each other right away.

The series is made up of 4 smaller fics:

One more night

Something more this time

No more lonely nights

Ain't this life so sweet

(I will point out here and nowhere else that the last installment of this series has some segment that probably needed to be re-read a couple more times, but by that point I was too invested, and the quality fluctuates a lot only in certain parts)

The writing style is very direct and to the point, which I love, the smut is very present and written beautifully and most importantly never boring.

Ian is a MESS in this fic and had me Stressed™, mostly cause for some reason I can't handle too much casual depiction of drug abuse and addiction (I know, ironic considering the fandom).

Conflicts and resolutions are never clean cut, they don't necessarily resolve quickly or definitely or the way you probably imagine they should and I find this level of realism very satisfying.

Taking a bit of space here at the end to also rec a couple other Ride4812 fics that I also loved:

COUP DE FOUDRE - A model/photographer AU where Ian and Mickey fall in love the instant they meet and do some crazy things because of that.

HOPE HE MIGHT - A lawyer AU where Ian and Mickey are on opposing sides for the same client, an interesting murder mystery steeped in a religious cult.

Generally I feel like this author is really good at depicting just how unapproachable Mickey can be to anyone that isn't called Ian Gallagher and I eat it up every time.

WHAT THE NIGHT DOES TO THE DAY – andchaos - 9k words

A Gallavich childhood friends AU with a quite original arrangement for the story and the various segments of their lives. Very satisfying read.

RANSOM – BeckyHarvey29 - 112k words

Terry sends his sons to kidnap a Gallagher child to force Frank into paying back the money he owes, unfortunately for him Mickey and his brothers kidnap Ian, and a whole other kind of story unfolds.

Mickey and Ian falling in love in this fic is such a good read. I don't wanna spoil anything of how that or the kidnapping plot goes, since the two are so intertwined. Just know that it will be worth it.

UNDER LOCK AND KEY – Suzy_Queue - 106k words

Ian is assigned the night shift at his new job where he provides spare keys to his fellow college students stuck outside their dorm rooms. To make matters worse his shift coworker is the oh so infamous Mickey Milkovich.

I am magnetized by the way this author writes their pining for each other, their attraction and obsession, how it blooms and unfolds. This fic in particular had me develop a very bad case of tunnel vision, couldn't really turn away until I finished reading it all.

I still haven't read everything this author has to offer, but so far I also loved:

INHUMAN: A mysterious force starts attacking people close to Mickey and it all seems to lead to a mysterious redhead Mickey is oh so coincidentally obsessed with. Very cool paranormal story.

THESE FOOLISH GAMES: Mickey takes over as the boss of the local branch of a trampoline park, where Ian is one of the employees, they annoy each other to no end but what they don't know is that they're secretly texting each other.

IS THERE SOMEWHERE – andchaos - 48k words

Mickey is born with no words on his skin, convinced he's going to live a life of misery cause no one will ever say the words he's destined to hear, he's not a very happy guy. Here comes mute boy Ian who crashes into his life and won't let go.

A classic Soulmate AU, I love that like in a lot of other Gallavich fics their physical connection and compatibility usually comes before their emotional one, it is one aspect that I feel distinguishes their relationship to many other fandom’s ships.

LAST NIGHT AT THE VERONA GRAND HOTEL – the_rat_wins - 27k words

Mickey starts working at an ancient hotel who's supposedly haunted. Mickey doesn't believe in ghost stories, he is much more interested in this one guest he meets at night during his shift.

What a cinematic experience this fic is! Absolutely recommended, the length of it makes it so you can read it in the same time it would take to watch the same story in movie format.

Other fics by the same authors that have impressed me:

FADE THIS ONE TO BLACK: Ian dies of overdose in a pile of snow outside the club, when Mickey finds him there he vows to do anything to get him back.

I don't know why but this fic in particular gives off the vibes of being a pilot for a ya urban fantasy TV series, except we gotta imagine everything that comes after the first episode lol

NO LIE: Ian and Mickey are Soulmates and as such they can't lie to each other. This series is short and sweet and full of feelings, perfect

PARAGRAPHS – pink_ink - 100k words

Ian becomes a reading tutor for ex-convicts, Mickey is among them and Ian starts paying him more and more attention.

This is a story where they meet under very different circumstances and where they've lived slightly different lives compared to canon and yet they're still able to find each other in the end.

Also, sign me up for every fic where Ian has to work just as hard to help Mickey and care for him as the opposite, where Ian's brand of stubbornness is the only way to get through to Mickey.

I'm also adding a couple of ongoing fics, just two to not overwhelm too much.

NONE THE WISER – Loftec - ~218k words

Ian starts visiting Mickey’s diner, it takes a while and yet no time at all to warm up to each other.

I'm captivated by the author's writing style. I love Ian's and Mickey’s relationship. I love how they sort of take their time and yet pine helplessly for each other.

I'm obsessed with the fact that the whole point of the fic doesn't appear until two thirds of the way in cause the diner scenes were just too good to pass up on lol (and I 100% agree with them).

INTRO TO QUANTUM DATING – spoonfulstar - ~563k words

Canon Mickey and Ian meet in University. A college slice of life but drenched in the casual (and not so casual) darkness of canon shameless.

The dark humor in this is fenomenal and left me gasping laughing so many times.

Unexpectedly Ian in this fic is pursuing a linguistics oriented degree, which was what I studied when I tried university, the topics are explained in such an accurate way I have to assume the author studied them themselves and that this story is somewhat a reimagining of their own college experience because if not this would be an absurd amount of accurate research to make.

Reading this fic feels like living through the American college experience from the comfort of my home lol.

As I said before, this author's way of writing does not weight you down even with its length, the story flows perfectly from one scene to the next and before you realize it you've reached the end and you have to accept that 500k words weren't even enough.

Let's end this list with some quick recommendations

WHILE WE'RE MAKING OTHER (PEOPLE'S) PLANS - kyasticlikestea

Mickey is volunteered to organize someone's else's wedding after he managed to salvage his own so well, he'll do it, but his own Southside way.

THIS IS THE ROAD TO RUIN - bricoleur10

Ian and Mickey never go to rob Ned, the story unfolds differently from there. A fix-it with a lot of Gallavich longing , very good smut and some really good dialogue.

HEY, HONEY MINE (I WAS THERE ALL THE TIME) - serveteas

Mickey talks about his crush with Iggy and accidentally pronoun-slips. Short, to the point, funny af and I just really love it. Takes place after their fight at Kash’n Grab in s2.

AGAINST GLASS - AllThatMatters

Ian gets traded from one club to another as a dancer (and more) and ends up in the Milkovich family's club. This is a Mafia!Mickey story with some pretty tight sub-plots, I love his brothers in this.

ONE OF A KIND - fckyeahgallavich

Mickey breaks his finger and it has to be set in the hospital, chaos - of the homophobic kind - ensues. Protective!Ian, I wanna hug Mickey in this.

IAN THE FRIENDLY GHOST - Ravenheart

Ian is haunting an apartment and Mickey starts living in it, Ian is maybe starting to have a crush on him. This isn't angsty!

BLOOD IN, BLEED OUT - brewrosemilk, Whatsastory

Historical AU. Perfectly innocent bystander Ian Gallagher is thrown into the affairs of the Ukrainian Mafia back in 1954, his relationship with Mickey will span decades and he won't remain innocent for long, the mafia can corrupt anyone.

TEENAGE RUNAWAY - sadwhales

Ian comes to live and finish high school with his half siblings on the South Side, he's immediately captivated by a boy sitting under the bleachers, maybe his North Side naivety will catch his attention too.

GARDEN SONG - melwrtiesthings

A glimpse into their lives in their West Side apartment, a lot of initial angst due to a manic episode and then a lot of recovery and healing and learning more about themselves.

[nevermorefanfics]

Burning Hearts pt 2

Moodboard Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

Pairing: Eris x Reader, Earlier Azriel x reader

Summary: You arrive at the Autumn court and things are no longer what it used to be and without either your brother or Azriel in the way you and Eris start to catch feelings for each other.

Warnings ⚠️: A little agains, Mentions about sex, Alcohol, fluff, Mean!Azriel, mean!Rhysand, Swearing, mentions about cheating.

Word count: 1549

AN: Firstly I want to thank everyone who has supported me. I love you guys and I am ao thankful for everyone who's liked, followed or reshared. I'm sorry that it took such long time for me to finish this but I've had a lot going on. Hope you like the fic! Love/The cowinblack.

You arrived at the autumn court, feeling nauseous after the past events of the day. Azriel, the mate you’d loved ever since you met him so long ago, wasn't yours anymore. Looking up, Eris was already by your side, concern in his eyes.

“What happened, love?” He calmly asked.

“Azriel… Elain'' That was the only words that came out of your mouth, tears streaming down your face. But Eris didn't need anything else, he understood. You had told him about your concerns with Azriel and Elain earlier. Eris pulled you into a hug and you just stood there crying out for what felt like an eternity until the world became dark and you fell into a long dreamless sleep.

__________________________________

It had gone weeks since you got to the autumn court and you and Eris were closer than ever. Since Beron had been assassinated just months before there was a lot to fix here, laws to remove and things to change. You had helped Eris all you could, even if he said that you should rest and regain your strength. But you’d just laughed it off. Working distracted you and when Eris realized that he’d given you your own office and now you could sit all day working and helping people in need. 

Suddenly you heard a knock on the door and Eris walked in.

“Good afternoon sweetie, care for a stroll in the gardens? I’ve got dinner so we can have a picnic.” He told you. You hadn't really realized that it was already afternoon. Guess time goes faster when you have fun.

“Yeah, sure” Only now realizing how hungry you were.”I'm starving,” you added with a little giggle.

“Good you really should take more breaks from working, otherwise you're going to get wrinkles all over your beautiful face!” Eris joked and you shared a laugh. A laugh, that was the first time since Azriel cheated you’d actually laughed. Adoration shone from Eris' eyes, he really looked like you were his sun, the only thing that mattered to him. 

“Come on, I wanna eat before it gets dark!” You giggled, dragging him out in the fresh air. You and Eris walked around in the gardens for a bit before you got to your usual place, a beautiful orange tree beside a river. As you spread out the blanket Eris took out the stuff that was in his mystery basket. Strawberries, wine, pancakes and even more delicious things that made your mouth water. You sat and ate and talked for a while and when the time had reached midnight the two of you were drunk, like really drunk.

“You look really pretty tonight Y/N” He told you.

“ So do you, handsome.”

As his eyes met yours the both of you leaned forward and your lips met. The kiss wasn't gentle nor sweet, it was passionate, needy. As the kiss deepened something clicked. Maybe you and Azriel were wrong for each other. Because the passion you felt with Eris was something that you never had experienced earlier. 

Carefully Eris laid you down on the blanket.

“Is this okay with you love?” he asked nicely.

“Yes, Eris, yes.” You mumbled into his hair. And so you ended up making love in the fresh autumn air.

__________________________________

The next morning you were woken up by a gentle kiss pressed against your forehead.

“Good morning love, how are you feeling?” Eris asked. 

“Amazing, how do you feel?” You asked with a sleepy voice.

“Better than ever.” He said, now trailing kisses down your neck. “But we have to talk about us.” He continued.

“Of course, Eris I love you, a part of me always has, as you were the one who took care of me all those months ago when we got back from Under the mountain. You were there for me when no one else was, not even my mate. I totally understand if you don't have the same fee-” Eris cut you off with a kiss, a kiss so different from the one you shared before, this was so much more… Real. He wasn't leaving you.

“I love you Y/n, you're my world, I've loved you for so long, always thinking that you didn't see me in that way, we can take it slow if you want, but you’re the one I want by my side, forever.” Eris declared.

“Your little drama queen.” Was the only thing you could get out of your mouth, to shocked by the fact that Eris, the boy you’d had a crush on since you were so very young, was declaring his love before you.

“Well I'm your drama queen.” He laughed pulling you into another kiss.

__________________________________

Months past and you and Eris just grew closer. Your family had made several attempts to see you but you didn't feel ready. They had abandoned you when you needed them the most and you couldn't just forget that. Rhysands had said in a letter that everyone was missing me and that Cassian, Mor and Amren almost had killed Azriel for what he’d done. They were all sorry and just wanted me to come home.But the Night court wasn't your home anymore. Slowly you’d begun to love The Autumn Court and Eris and you had gotten married just days ago. Now you’re Autumn's high lady. It wasn't official. Just the court knew and you wanted to wait before declaring it, or at least make it dramatical. You and Eris had discussed when and where and then the perfect opportunity showed up:

 A High Lord (and lady) meeting was to be held at the Day Court, to discuss the restoration of Prythian. And you were going to be there, but for the first time you weren't going to stand by your brother's side, no you were going to have your own throne next to Eris. If you were going to see Rhys you were going to do it on your own accord. That was when you were going to reveal your title. And that meeting, that meeting was today. Right now you were packing and planning what to talk about, what to wear and how to act. You’d known Helion since you were a little kid and the two of you’d always gotten along. He was like you, hiding all his troubles with humor and you hoped that your friendship would help to stabilize an official, and well needed, alliance between the Day Court and the Autumn court.

“Love, are you ready? We have to get going now!” Eris said as he entered your room, greeting you with a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah let me just get changed real quick!” You murmured to him.

“Do you need a hand?” He asked playfully. 

“No we don't have much time and I have a feeling that if you help me my dress is probably going off instead of on” You told him and quickly went into your ginormous wardrobe, an adorable chuckle following you. The dress you had chosen to wear was a piece of art. It was a clear beautiful red color which faded out into endless yellows and oranges. The bodice looked to be made of leaves in all of autumn's colors. It was in short just… Ethereal. You quickly got changed and right outside your room you saw the pleasant sight of your husband leaning against the doorframe. He was clad in a stunning tailored suit, a suit that matched your dress perfectly. In his hand he held the tiara version of the crown that covered the top of his head. He sweetly placed it on top of your head and then held out his arm for you to take. You laid your arm on his and a couple moments later you had arrived in Helions favored castle. 

Eris had winnowed the two of you to one of the many entrances where the two of you were greeted by a couple guards. They scienly led you into a ginormous, beautiful room with a glass roof painted in gorgeous golden patterns. Around a round marble table 8 chairs were placed. You quickly realized that the two of you were the first to arrive since the only people in the room, beside the two of you, were Helion and a couple guards. When he saw us he strode towards us with softness in his gaze. 

“Y/N! Long time no see. I heard what happened in the Night court and I became so worried that I wouldn't get to see you here!” He greeted you coming in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his broad figure as he lifted you up, spinning you in the air.

“Oh and hello to you too Eris, what a fine Lady you have gotten your hands on.” Helion said as he put you down.

Eris answered with a chuckle and then spoke. “Fine indeed. Helion could you be an angel and ask your guards to get another chair. We can't have Autumn's High Lady stand through the whole meeting!” He announced.

“High Lady? Well Y/N I guess congratulations are in order-” Helion abruptly stopped and you knew what just happened. You spun around quickly, Eris clinging to your arm, offering support, as you uttered the words “Hello big brother.”

Taglist:

@queerqueenlynn @se7enteen--black-blog @@mybestfriendmademe @cleverzonkwombatsludge

An: I've got loooots of ideas for the next part and I hope to see you then!

[hermitsdump]

Sukuna's milk: rewriting the shibuya incident

status: complete [also on ao3]

word count: 8,238

tags: reader is not a sorcerer, fix-it fic, Sukuna & you, pov 1st person (I tried to rewrite in 2nd but it just wasn't as funny that way, we need the idiot narration)

contains: cannibalism, drinking Sukuna's milk, crack taken seriously, maybe technically sfw(?).... violence, but nothing worse than canon, vomit, some character death but it's different than canon, no manga spoilers (I wrote this before reading it).

a/n: the chapters were so short i decided to make 1 post instead of 10. This is the funniest thing I've ever written, I read it several times a year. But not today, I would not have the courage to post it.

Chapter 1

Maybe at first, I forgot to eat. But as the deadline grew nearer, I became too anxious to consider food. And now, it's Halloween in shibuya. I wanted to go out. To do something fun and dress up. Or at least make it home, before the streets were crowded with drunk people. My coworkers have plans, costumes and now distance from this place... 

It's just until I'm not the newest hire. Hazing is only temporary. 

I blast nightcore music in my headphones, pushing away how creepy the Empty office is. Even during peak hours with sunlight, I swear the place is haunted. 

But then again, stress and sleep deprivation can convince anyone of hallucinations. And they'd never speak coherently, anyway. Just lurking, And no one else seemed to notice.

I stretch out of my chair. It's gotten late. And I am desperate to get out of here. I put my headphones away. And i stumble to the first floor. 

As fast as I can. The empty building echoes with. Some strange noise. Like it wants to collapse on me or something. Outside, the air is thick with sulphur and smoke. Are they doing fireworks now?

 No, that's not right. I collapse on the edge of  an alley. The streets are empty too. But there are two creatures very much alive. Attacking each other with flames, like some bizarre night demons. Are they flying? The shorter one keeps getting thrown into buildings. So maybe it is safer to be outside. At least whatever this is has scared the drunk people away and I won't have to worry about stepping in vomit. I'll get out of here soon. Stop being so lightheaded.

 The fight draws nearer. And I can see them closer. The one who is clearly winning this fight… Has four arms. Human? The other one has one large eye and a volcano on his head. I haven't really seen anyone like that before. But if I still have my job after this, I might see him lurking around the corridors or in my peripheral.

They're far enough away that I can't hear what they're saying to each other. But it seems that it's coming to an end. The taller, more humanoid figure stands across from what looks like a pile of ashes on fire. It has the same slumped shape, now only recognizable by silhouette. 

{Why was a curse spirit crying like that, anyway? Sukuna wonders, bored after killing Jogo.}

“Yo, that was sick. Nice,” i say from my spot against a wall, not expecting to be heard by anyone. 

“Yes, thank you. It's good to be acknowledged.” he steps nearer. “But why are you so weak? It's like you haven't eaten.”

“Yeah, maybe that's it.”  my voice is tired and careless, almost completely monotone.

“Well, why dont we cook up some of these arms? It would be a shame to let malevolent kitchen burn empty.”

I shoot him a weird look, uncertain how serious or funny he meant to be.

“Oh, come on. It could make you stronger! Or kill you," his voice sounds like it came from someone else on that last part, then returns to its usual growl. "And I can regenerate. Watch.”

He removes one of his 4 arms, somehow sliced smoothly without a weapon, then tosses it into a fire. “See? There.” it grows back as if he were putting on a sweatshirt and the sleeve had been rolled inside itself. I look down, feeling sicker.

 “Oh well, i tried.” he paces away, glancing up at what's left of the city.

I stare when he steps through flames, reaches for something, and comes out unmarked. He then eats his old arm like a giant turkey's leg at a renaissance fair. 

It actually smells pretty good... at least among the stench of burning rubble. its charred skin even looks edible, inanimate.

“Change your mind? Here,” he rips off a finger and throws it precisely into my hand. I am hungry and in need of food- that could be enough on its own to explain the nausea.  the finger is wrinkled, crispy, and ethically sourced. I try to eat it like a chicken wing. 

It isn't bad, the texture is pretty good and no spices were available. Maybe better if i close my eyes.

Maybe not. My teeth touch bone thicker than a chicken wing would have. I flinch and it slips away. When i catch it the long black fingernail presses against my hand. The feeling of that took it too far. 

my palms collide with the ground, vomit spills between them. When it's done I turn away from the mess, slump into the wall like an alcoholic, the tremors of sickness setting in. i feel so much weaker than before. That isn't good. No one human is here now. only those who are dangerous had the capacity to stay behind. And me. Why me? 

Tears begin to slide down my face. Pathetic. No easy death and no strength for me now. 

“Aww, feeling dehydrated now, are we?” the demon's voice still rough and playful. “Oh, whats this? It seems my chest is crying too. Well, that's odd.”

he picks his half-eaten finger off the blacktop and flicks it away. Then he lifts me up, and when my vision focuses,  I'm on top of a tall, mostly intact building. The orange glows from below outshine the stars tonight. Smoke obscures the distance, blowing least of all where we are.

“Come on now, help me with this.”

“What?”

He sighs and gestures to his chest.  “You'll have to drink this out of me.” he sounds slightly defeated. drops of milk are dripping down from his nipples. 

“That's weird,” i whisper through a painfully dry throat.

He sits with his legs crossed in and pulls me up to sit in that nest. Something about the scent, or pheromones, draws me in, something sweet and promising. Or maybe desperation for a drink. I begin to lick the drops away. 

“I'm guessing it had something to do with you crying. that makes mommy tiddies cry too, right? And maybe you're like my child now from eating that finger… hmm…”

I'm a little surprised that a cannibal’s breastmilk could taste the way it does. Not strong, but sweet and cozy, like some spiced holiday drink. It's good, so i latch on, beginning to suck desperately at his nipple. 

His arms seem to form a cradle, the way they support me. The heat from his body radiates onto my skin and filters down my throat.

“I guess i'll tell you how this works. So I was alive during the Heian era, just as I am now. Ryoumen Sukuna. When that life ended, i had a choice: to have my 20 fingers preserved and hope that some mortal would consume them, and then i could live on in their body. Which is i guess doable, but not ideal.

Option 2 was to become a curse womb, and essentially reincarnate when enough chaos and blood would have spilled in my name. Which, as you can see, is what happened here tonight.

Although I did just kill the curse that seemed to want me here the most.”

i let go of his nipple, and give it one last wide lick.

“Good, now get the other one dry too.” 

i wrap my arms around him and reach for the next nipple. He only has 2 of them, but 4 arms and 2 faces. my mind wanders… what if they were different flavors… but it tastes the same.

Chapter 2

“Well. How do you feel?” Sukuna looks down on me, one of his big hands still spread out, supporting my head.

“Do you think it's also poison?” i ask, remembering that his finger could have given me strength or death, but i threw it up.

He sighs. “Ah, well, who knows? I'm sort of a human-curse hybrid now, so it might not have the same effect as some old relics. But even then, I was the king of poisons as well as curses. So… Poison or immunity to poison? ah, who’s to say.”

“It was…spicy, sweet and warm. I don't seem to be allergic.”

 “I didn't ask for a review. Spicy, sweet and warm? What the hell is this,” his voice trails into a mutter. 

“Oh, uh, i feel better than before.”

“Well, that much is clear.” he stands up. my tremors had faded, but now the autumn night air replaces his body heat, and i fight a shiver.

“Oh! something interesting is happening. Let’s go.” two arms hold my body to his. a blur of black, grey, and orange passes by. It feels like we're flying and falling erratically, changing direction without slowing down. He drops me off next to some guy with spikes of bloody black hair, his head seems pinned to the dented metal door or wall behind him. 

“You stay there,” Sukuna orders, holding a glowing white aura to the unconscious dude, keeping his back to the wall as well. “Watch over him. And don't either of you move from that spot.” 

i sink down next to the guy who's crushed like a bug, afraid to look toward whatever sukuna was keeping in his sight. What could have thrown someone like this? Something worse than the volcano creature…  His clothes are also bloody. No sign of awareness. i reach out and rest my hand on the top of his shoe, then look toward the figures in my peripheral. 

Something like an ancient god, tall and broad, pale and naked with wings for eyes... its attention on someone small, dressed like a caveman with a high blond ponytail and an aura like the stench of dried blood. He tries to run away without grace. A car slams into the ground to block his path. 

“Coward! You've clearly brought this on yourself,” Sukuna scolds.

 i can't tell whether that guy is a curse or a human, the way he's so small and perfectly humanoid, but no less vile. The type that tortures for fun, but can't handle any pain himself. He crawls under the car. 

Sukunas pins the vehicle down with another, then takes the godly fight away from the area.

 i keep my eyes on the cars he threw. No pool of blood spilling beneath them. What if he comes back to kill me, or worse? If i start crying, sukuna might get the signal. Though he went through the effort to not have me ruin his fun with milk-leaking nipples. i feel stronger now, but without concept of what kind of strength, or how to channel it.

Noise from their battle reverberates through what is becoming a wasteland. He's clearly having fun, offering a display of great destruction and power….but also showing distance. 

And speed.

Sukuna returns with a forceful fall, undeniably ending the evil kid with a modern Giles Corey type of death.

 “Hehe,” he grins widely in a squat on the car that's been crushed like an aluminum can. No sign of his godly opponent. 

“What happened?” i ask, remaining in place like he told me to.

“I killed that shikigami. The guy next to you had summoned it. But no one ever subjugated Mahoraga, so…. I'll teach him someday.” Sukuna's explanation sounds vague to someone new to this language, but i get the idea.

My muscles begin to relax. I take two deep breaths.

That's all that Shibuya grants me.

Something percussive and rhythmic knocks against the ground, slow with impending doom, and definitely approaching.

Chapter 3

“Oh, my. What's this?” A slow sultry voice steps in. “Ryoumen Sukuna, king of curses?” Her hips sway obnoxiously in a black evening dress, propelling a single white braid to swing from the middle of her face to either side.  an identical braid down  the back of her head. 

Her heels continue that slow click, that fills me with dread. I try to stop feeling so frozen in place, looking for validation or dismissal from the sorcerer next to me. He offers neither, but looks peacefully asleep. I'm happy for him. Maybe even jealous.

“ If you know who I am, then say it with reverence,” Sukuna quickly responds, looking down on the tall woman, differently than the way he looked down at me. 

“Big sis recognized you! you should be grateful!” A young boy in suspenders follows the woman with a more composed walk, holding his head higher, posture rigidly vertical. Are they performing for each other? So gross.

“Wow, that gave me the ick,” sukuna sounds surprised by his own discomfort.

“Mei Mei,” the woman introduces herself, as if anyone asked. ”Let's say that you and I play a little game. If I win-”

“you'll live. And I win, I'll live.” Sukuna interrupts.

“Fine then,” she accepts, still carrying herself like a thirst trap. "I look forward to the bonus pay."

“Big sis! You don't have to accept someone else's…” The kid whines. They're definitely related. His hair no less white, his clothing oddly formal, like it was chosen for a piano recital.

“Ui Ui. You wait here. Are you ready and willing to die for me?” The boy nods, loudly mumbling “mm-hmm.”

 i feel violently ill. 

“Jesus, I'm going to throw up,” i put my face to the sky. It's hazy and doesn't offer much relief. 

“Well, I can't have my baby crying. Let's make this fast.” Sukuna's voice is still a bit rushed. He can't wait for this to end either. 

Please don't let them notice me. I look to him, but some unusual motion catches my eye instead. The woman collapses as a pile of cubes. Was Sukuna's weapon just a violent look? 

“Noo! Big sis! Come back!” 

“Hey, brat. You should be grateful. She was clearly using you.”

Ui Ui isn't grateful, but demands the same fate as Mei Mei, stomping his foot like a child who wants an expensive toy. 

“Fine, equally annoying brat. Join your sister.” Sukuna's speech slowed to its usual pace. more cubes fall on the pavement, blood pooling under the piles. “What a waste. Can't believe I hope that doesn't happen again.” 

he turns to me, still sat against the dented building. His gaze moves to the body next to mine, beginning to look awake. Sukuna's face lights up. I take my hand off of his brown leather shoe  and fidget with my own.

 “Finally! Show us what you've got!” is impatience contagious? Sukuna sounds excited. Awaiting something as interesting as mahoraga, I guess.

“What the hell is this?” The voice beside me comes out flat, like a telepathic exhale.

Sukuna looks rejected. “I healed you. you owe me that much.”

“Get lost.”  not a morning person.

Sukuna sighs, “i should have made a pact. But you were already half-dead, so it wasn't an option.”

“Oh, wait. it's coming back to me now.” He sits up on his own.  “You've already seen my trump card. So, what's the big deal then?”

“Well… it's kind of a waste of your talents. Don't you think?” 

Bruhhhhh, i throw my own head back into the wall. Why does he want to fight everyone? Dudes barely awake. Grow up. 

“okay. Let's move on.” He's talking to me now. “Shibuya is crawling with the strongest of curses and sorcerers- or, what's left of them, anyway. At this rate, to find a better fight than that volcano spirit, I'll have to heal them all first.” 

The soles on my shoes scrape loudly when i stand up, leaving the now-conscious one space to recover on his own. We didn't say a word to each other. Should I introduce myself? Would I even remember his name? 

It doesn't matter. I've never been or fought a sorcerer or a curse. I'm just a random office worker, just a milk baby. The only reason I'm even in this city... and alive.

 {Megumi goes to find shoko, who was nearby.}

Chapter 4

Walking through the city feels wrong. any of these buildings might collapse and crush me into the street like a fly. 

Sukuna flinches at nothing. no reaction to stepping over a body lying in the street. Blood poured from the side of his head around a sharpened rod. this feels like a suicide.

Maybe he was a normal person like me. It doesn't seem like anyone left alive in shibuya tonight would be caught dead in a stretched out white sweater. 

“Catch up already. We're going underground.” Sukuna says that as if I'm a child watching bugs in a field. His child. 

Our shoes slap against the clean white steps to the station. It's an eerie contrast to be engulfed in the bright light. That's funny. A few hours ago I would have thought nothing of it. Just another late night escaping the office.

And just a few hours ago, the way these walls are cut up, the floors so neatly cut out, would have been a shock. I'll just avoid those big open circles... And whatever made them. 

Someone is here, stumbling away from the wall. Their black hair is styled with thin bangs and spiky space buns. Chains rattle against their heavy black boots, his heavy breath fades, his eyes focus into a determined…almost kubrik stare. 

“I need help for my brother who is dying.” his voice is kind of deep. maybe it's the black line across his nose like a bandaid, but this guy is insanely cute.

Don't stare. I turn to sukuna for an answer. His pointed black nails move like hungry fangs. 

“Oh, really? What would you do for him? Would you risk your own life for a brother?”

“I would.” this dude’s stare could not be any more intense.

“Excellent. Show me what you've got, and maybe I'll heal him!”

“if that's what it takes. Fine then.” 

I grab one of Sukuna's arms, “do you REALLY think we have time for that?” But his squinted smile is so full of teeth that I doubt whether he can hear me. 

The other guy brings his palms together, arms outstretched at eye level. A laser cuts into the stairs above my head and follows Sukuna. 

No, that isn't a beam of light. It's blood. 

“Get back,” the blood manipulator breathes into my ear as he runs past. 

“Where?” I ask, stupidly glancing around. 

He rushes me to the corner he crawled out from, like a shallow closet built into the wall. 

“Wait!” I hold him back and stand in front. Like a mother hitting the brakes of a car. Accomplishing nothing but being annoying.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sukuna growls.

“it means grow the fuck up! You think someone owes you a fight for wasting time and letting their brother die? You make me sick, sometimes!”

He sighs. “Alright, take me to him.”

Chapter 5

I follow, no point in running to keep up with them. We turn by the hall to the elevator and restrooms.

“Who are you?” The blood master asks with no expression, more like a command.

Two teen girls are kneeling on the floor. They don't answer him, but bow to Sukuna instead. The one with light spiraling hair holds a dehydrated finger out like an offering.

“Please,” her voice shakes but not as much as their bodies, “take this finger. We didn't know you were alive already. We can get you one more, too, so please, don't kill us.”

“Get up. You're not worth my time.”

“Huh?” The girl hardly breathes.

“Killing you kids would be like stepping on ants. Save those old relics for someone who cares.” 

They manage to crawl to the wall and hold onto each other. I slide down between them and the others. 

“So that volcano spirit wasn't lying. I didn't emerge from this kid's body because I was already a curse womb… But I will, if someone manages to kill this body! 

Wonderful. But who would have saved my fingers…” Sukuna’s monologue is lost on these guys. 

“Yuuji Itadori. It's your big brother, Choso Kamo. I'm sorry for what happened.” 

“The residuals tell me you did this.” Sukuna reaches out with a white aura, ignoring Choso’s glare. 

Yuuji Itadori looks at least half dead. Covered in blood, head hanging. I turn away to face the girls.

“So… What were you doing here?”

“We were told that when he eats enough fingers, Sukuna would come out. But he never did.”

“Still, it was our only hope to save Geto. We had to try.” the girl with straight, dark hair continues.

“What do you mean, to save Geto?” Choso demands.

“The man in Geto’s body is not him. He lied to us.” 

“With stitches in his forehead?” 

“Yes.”

“He deceived me, as well. And he will pay for making me try to kill my little brother.”

“The stitches man. He's powerful?” sukuna’s priorities remain. 

“He took Geto's body for the technique. Curse manipulation.” 

“take me to him.” 

“let me attack him. Can we wait until my brother wakes up?” 

“I'm awake. Todo?” Yuuji mumbles, “when did you get here?”

“Not Todo, it's Choso. Our parent pit us against each other. And for that, I will kill him.”

“Hm… You're not really making sense. But I'm going after patchface.”

“Mahito? He's below us with a stock of transfigured humans.”

“I know…what i have to do,” yuuji's arm, limp at his side, draws into a fist.

“I'll stay here. you guys don't have to wait around.” I can see they're impatient and I'm over it. 

“please! Kill the man inside Geto, but bring him back.” the blonde girl calls after Choso and Sukuna. 

“So… Who are you?” Yuuji's words slur. 

I give him my name. Not sure what else to say. 

“That's weird, we haven't heard about you.”

“I'm only here by coincidence.” 

“I'm nanako, and this is mímiko. But I'm not sure if I believe you. Coincidentally walking by his side? That doesn't happen.”

“I don't get it, either. It's like some weird biological tie…” Please god let this turn into a gossip session, I cannot tell anyone that I've been drinking cursed tiddy milk after throwing up a cannibalized hand…. But I'd do it again. 

“So…what did those fingers taste like?” 

“Just like soap.” Yuji answers with no hesitation.

“Oh dude, I'm sorry. Soap is disgusting.”

“Why the hell are you guys eating soap?”

Mission accomplished. I can admit to eating soap as a child and finding that honey scented soap is somehow bitter. That's normal. 

But the chest milk… I hope I get to drink that again. It was like a baptism. Like it brought me back to life. 

Maybe that's what sukuna is - a walking baptism. He healed me without looking for a fight. Or maybe my fight was to survive his finger… And the rest was out of his hands. 

But it got he into his hands, and that... Was worth it.

Too bad for him though.

Chapter 6

To descend the stairs is to enter a deeper level of hell. But I can't put it off forever. 

Mimiko and Nanako asked for my help in seeing that Geto comes back. So I have to try. No one else has the balls or the luck to influence Sukuna's whims.

Yuuji leads us down. His confidence is convincing- the only traces of his brush with death are stains and holes in his school uniform. 

When the three of us are in the safest, most hidden spot with a view, I nod to Yuuji. He mirrors me with a serious expression. I almost pity the curse he's jumping the stairs to beat.

No one paid him attention - though I have a feeling that Choso noticed. He's facing away from us, pinning someone against the wall- a man with long hair in monk's robes. That must be Geto… I  can't see the stitches from here. 

Sukuna sits high on a pile of debris, looking down on them with his head resting on one arm. Amused and unbothered. 

A muffled choking reverberates around, with no movement to match it. 

“Where is that coming from?” I barely whisper.

Mimiko points at Geto's head. His body seems to be turning off.

Choso gathers blood into a small blade and cuts away the stitches. 

A brain jumps against the top of the skull, desperate to eject as soon as the gap is big enough to let it through. 

Geto's body slumps to the floor. Choso watches the grey blob run with homicide in his eyes. The brain has a foul mouth of long flat teeth, and limbs grown out of it. Arms or legs, they splash against the floor with dripping brain fluid. 

“That is so gross,” i mutter. 

Choso stalks it with hovering orbs of blood. I think they're going to catch up with Itadori.

Nanako and Mimiko run out, stopping a couple of meters away from Geto's body.

“What's happened to him?” Nanako asks, nervous to confront Sukuna, nervous about the green and purple spidery lines that splinter over Geto's head and spread down his neck.

I close the distance and they hover behind me. 

“I had him grow a brain. But it's disappointing.

Sorcerers in this era not building immunity to poison.”

“You poisoned him?” Nanako almost yells through her shaking voice.

“I don't recall you having a better idea to remove the parasite,” Sukuna counters quickly. “But I suppose we could try a remedy. Think you can find some ingredients?” 

The twins run outside. I find a stack of clean napkins and a paper cup of water, then stay with Geto, as if I know how to treat superhuman illness. He seems to be in some kind of fever dream. Breathing, rapid eye movement, that's good right? Though his skin is clammy and damp with sweat and brain fluid. I pour the water on some napkins and clean off his face. 

“So… Does he have a chance?” I ask, afraid that Sukuna just sent them out to be left alone. 

He sighs. Glances off like he's bored.

“Hey. Poison me the same way.”

“What, are you suicidal?”

“I just want to see if it works.”

“Hm… Fine.” 

Sukuna pulls my chin up, away from watching Geto's skin and trying to determine whether the effects are spreading or receding. He drags a nail down the side of my face. I feel a warm drop of blood slide down. Sukuna watches me intently, his grasp on my jaw won't let me turn away.

Maybe it's the stare of his extra eyes, but my blood runs cold. Skin like a pond frozen over in winter, alive underneath but wintering. The feeling sinks stranger and deeper, stranger and deeper, then disintegrates to memory. 

The blood in my veins is no longer hollow, but warm, normal - although the contrast makes me appreciate the sensation of normalcy.

My vision focuses before I realize it had been taken away. His eyes are still on me. He looks intrigued, satisfied, and finally he lets me go. 

“So that's it?”

“Yes. it seems I've granted you immunity to poisons.”

Suddenly it feels like I've asked for too much. It was lucky that for whatever reason, the heightened emotions or risk to my life, Sukuna's chest is ready for the harvest. 

He sits next to Geto with his legs like a nest, his four arms waiting to take me in. 

I really…I don't know how boobs work. I hold the cup close to his nipple and grab around it.  

My head twitches and eyes squeeze shut on their own. A few stray drops came out, but not in the right place. I wipe the milk out from my eyelashes and try again, spreading my hand over his tiddy and massaging toward the center. 

“This is going nowhere. Just use your mouth.” 

He's right. Even if we had a breastmilk pump, i wouldn't know how to use it.

So I reach out with my mouth, taking two euphoric swallows without remembering why I'm here. It takes a conscious effort to keep Sukuna's milk in my mouth, then drop it into the cup.  

I reach over to share it carefully with Geto. 

Sukuna takes it in his spare arm. We fall into a system where I suck on him, he brings the cup back, and I fill it. 

“Go meet those kids,” he puts the cup down. I keep the last mouthful for myself and get up. 

The twins race over, gasping for air. “Is this enough?” 

“Yeah, it's good,” i tell them. 

Sukuna begins to crush and flame herbs before dropping them into the cup or placing them across Geto's forehead. I think he's playing pretend with them.

“You spilled some on yourself,” mimiko blurts out and covers her mouth as fast as possible.

Sukuna and I make eye contact. His face tells me not to dare. 

I hold back a laugh, as if I would anyway. 

“Hey, I'll get you some drinks. What do you like?” 

“i like peach or mango,” Nanako answers first. 

“Um, watermelon or pear... But anything's fine.” mimiko’s face is a bit red.

“Hey. What about you?” I ask Sukuna.

“You decide,” he glares up at me. I'll look for a black tea then. It feels the safest.

I run off to the vending machines and totally forget who said what. So I come back with all 4 of their choices.

“Ryoumen Sukuna? Well, this is a surprise. Though I seem to have access to kenjaku's memories as well as my own, so more sense will be made with time.” a weak voice rambles.

“Geto!”

“You're okay!” The girls hug him. 

I set down their drinks. 

Sukuna looks relieved. I imagine he's ready to see what lurks below us. 

“Alright, what's next?” I hold out the tea and invite him away.

To give them privacy, to see that Yuuji and Choso are alive, or emboldened by the milk - I turn back and wave to the twins, but have no reservations about continuing to the next level of hell.

Chapter 7

The sorcerer from before glances into my eye as he runs past us up the stairs. He's with an electrified bird and a giant frog. They carry burn victims that I don't recognize. 

Sukuna lets out a single laugh with a slight, closed smile. We continue ahead, toward ashes and scorch marks. 

“Oh, how polite. They left me a snack.” Sukuna approaches the biggest charred form- it looks like nothing to me, an eroded statue after a volcanic eruption. I continue on without hesitating to leave him behind.

From a different angle it occurs to me that that was a man, with an arm severed before the fire. 

“Jogo! Thank you for the meal,” Sukuna growls as I pass by. 

Not my circus, not my monkeys. 

Milk blood gets me stupid reckless. Maybe I should compensate for that. Take my time and be observant. 

The patter of grey matter, the slicing and splashing of blood. Only two audible entities on this floor. 

Choso has been taking his time with the brain. It's clearly a personal grudge, but…how is that thing a parent? Either I'm misunderstanding the whole thing, or Yuuji equally lost. He's not even here. Neither is a patchface. But some dreadful feeling seems to rise like smoke from below the floor. 

“Hey, you! What did I miss?” Sukuna jumps over the railing, his kimono flowing gracefully in the descent.

“Oh, what took you so long?” I ask as his feet land in perfect balance.

“No one tastes as good as me!”

I stare up into his four eyes blankly. What.

“I had to start another fire just to get the taste out. Old men are disgusting.” 

“yeah,” i agree, and turn back to Choso and Kenjaku. This time I won't get in his way. Not like I even have the chance to.

He has it cornered, pinned to the wall with a long pole of blood. Then over and over with more needles, like a dart board. Bloody grey bits gradually crumble to the floor. I pass by quietly, giving him space and time to sort that out.

It's funny how seeing Choso in that state, I'd still feel safe with him. Maybe it's a shallow attraction to the way he dresses. Or that he took a risk to protect me.

But I get a really bad feeling about floor B5. Anything feels safe compared to that.

Sukuna wraps two arms around my shoulders. “Aw, come on. You scared now?” he teases. But I take what I can get and pull him in by the waist. But we don't stop walking.

Chapter 8

Sukuna looks down with a grimace. My fingers are tightly intertwined in his. Fuck. How did that happen? I release him and back up into the wall. 

Yuuji and Mahito are insane. It sounds like a horror circus down here, faces stretched into giant clay blobs of green, blue, pink, yellow, teal, etc etc. I don't like it.

I consider retreating to infringe on Choso's emotional breakdown. 

The noise dies down, the patchface laughter cutting through, an identical copy of that sound drifting down the stairs. There are two of them, running toward each other. 

A girl with strong eyes and copper hair chases after the second patchface. She has to be crazy strong. fearless. 

“Kugisaki! Run!” Yuuji's voice strains in desperation. 

The curse Yuuji was fighting runs toward her. Both laugh maniacally.

I pull up a piece of clay off the ground by my feet. it's heavy like a person. I swing it around in a throw at the spirit. A voice seems to slip out of it, the mass slips from my grasp and doesn't reach as far as I meant to. But the humanoid does trip with its face skidding onto the floor, and Kugisaki uses this chance to run off. 

“YOU!!” Mahito growls, his face of madness piercing mine. I freeze and death glare at him, the only action I can will my body to take. 

“Resonance!” Kugisaki’s voice drives across B5, followed by the collision of hammer and nails. 

The curse in front of me spurts blood, fighting to stumble and take me down. It's enough to break the trance.

I run past a clay train with open faces. anywhere to put distance between us. But that instinct is trapping me on the lowest level.

Mahito's clone is riddled with nails. She goes at him with a wide smile that could rival Sukuna's.

“Kugisaki!” Yuuji calls, “keep doing that! No one else's technique works on him. We have to hurt the shape of his soul.”

“Yeah, I know! And don't let him touch you with his hands. Anything else?” metallic clashes over her words.

“Um, no! I don't think so.” Itadori takes a guardian stance.

I look behind us. The main body is rising with demonic contortion, and arms grow in its open mouth. Am I…seeing that right from here?

“Domain expansion… Self-embodiment of perfection!” Mahito strains to pour out his remaining strength into something that cannot be good. 

Darkness and grey giant hands swell around us. Don't touch the hands?? They're bigger than all of us! 

In the dim void, Sukuna's white kimono, eyes and teeth reflect light with no source. He's elated. he makes a simple hand sign.

“Domain expansion. Malevolent shrine.”

A red light filters over the grey. Fires light the hands like candles and melt them down to ash. The clone body twitches and stays lying down. 

Sukuna steps closer to the main body, savoring the moment, keeping his gaze steady.  unaffected by the way that Mahito is still coughing up blood. 

“Hey, Itadori… What did I miss?” Kugisaki's voice wavers for the first time. 

“Oh, Um… You know, I'm not really sure either.” He scratches his fluffy pink hair that took on a bright, slime-like glow from Sukuna's domain. How does this guy sound so casual? 

Sukuna looms over Mahito and tries to provoke him into a better fight. The curse whimpers and splits into snakes, slithering away from each other and toward us. 

“Hey, itadori… We're okay as long as he doesn't have hands, right?” I ask.

“Yeah. only his main body should be able to distort the shape of a soul.” the three of us keep our eyes on the approaching snakes, or maybe they're more like worms... Ugly, with stupid faces, no scales, fluffs of hair for whatever reason. It's enough to trigger my fear of puppets. 

Sukuna flicks his fingers and they slice down the middle, with effortless symmetry. Like an arcade game he's beat on every level, and is no longer fun except to show off. 

The ones that remain squirm away faster. 

I have a suspicion that he knows where the main body is, and is saving it for last. 

Several of them burst into flames. Two at a time, until one remains.

“God, you're so boring, Sukuna groans. “I'll let you touch me one time. So give it your best.”

The last puppet worm shifts and grows into Mahito's usual humanoid shape. “Idle transfiguration!” He reaches out to Sukuna, and freezes on contact. 

“no way! I can't…” he shifts into a sort of bird, stuttering and crying, thrashing ashes at Sukuna, who just watches and chuckles. Letting this drag on is some psychological torture.

“so, this means you aren't Sukuna's vessel, right?” Kugisaki asks.

“I guess not,” yuuji answers. 

“Good to know.”

“Um, sorry but, you could be.” I realize he wasn't alive enough to hear us earlier.

“Huh?”

“The fingers didn't activate because his curse womb was already functionally a body. But if he dies, then he'll become you, you know?” God I hope that makes sense. I don't know basic shit about sorcery.

“Oh! So they're just cursed energy power-ups.” Yuuji seems to understand more than me. 

“Yeah, when they're dormant.   but if his current form is destroyed, then we lose you, too. So best to keep him alive.” I get the impression that Kugisaki scolds him a lot.

“It's not like anyone could take him down, right? Except for Gojo.” yuuji turns to me. “How is Gojo?”

“I haven't heard anything.” 

“I guess he's still sealed, then.”

“Ugh. Annoying.” Sukuna waves his hand and Mahito's body splits into cubes. The domain recedes, and purple goo puddles around his grey remains on the station’s lowest floor.

Chapter 9

Kugisaki and Itadori want to free Gojo from the prison realm. I'm not sure what that means, and at this point I'm too afraid to ask.

If Geto had it last, then that's enough to work with.

Sukuna sulks over how pathetic the human / death cursed spirit was. I guess some part of him blames Nobara for taking him down so hard, blames himself for letting her wreck Mahito so badly. But if she's strong enough to defeat that thing, then she has to be on his list of sorcerers to battle. 

As we climb out of the station, Choso's words replay in my head. Mahito? He's below us with a stock of transfigured humans. That explains the awful wriggling feeling, the ghost voices, the tortured faces stretched around those figures that were never clay. If I'd realized that before, would Nobara have become like that? The thought scares me. 

Some leftovers from Sukuna's arm remain on the burnt floor. Its scent lingers with temptation. I could probably handle it now. But that's no way to make friends. I rush up the steps before it can pull me back.

On B3, there is no sign of Choso. A pile of brain dust in that corner, and some prints from his shoes trailing away from it. A pit sinks in my heart. What if I never see him again? Am I simping so pathetically…

B2. I feel relieved to see that none of the drinks remain. So they're fine, just… Somewhere else. 

B1 is empty. The floor hasn't crumbled beyond the clean cut circle. I wonder if Choso is an artist? Engravings, into anything…

“Yuuji. You've eliminated the patchface?” He stands above the entrance like a gargoyle guarding us from outside threats. Relief flows through me at the sight I should have expected. 

“Yeah. Well, no. I gave him some black flashes but it didn't affect his soul. Kugisaki and Sukuna finished him off." Yuuji's voice hangs limp in the night. “I need the prison realm. Have you seen Geto?”

“They went to look for a bakery with crepes. I'll help you find it.” 

Choso and Yuuji walk in front. I fall in line next to Nobara. Sukuna follows like my chaperone. He's been unusually quiet, reduced to quietly observing. Not the god of chaos I first saw him as.

The street is pretty lifeless. A fresh ghost town. The occasional transfigured human wanders aimlessly. Sukuna puts them out of their misery with the slightest finger twitch. He feels like a gentle protector.

“Over there,” Choso directs us to the only business with a glow of intentional light and the movement of human life inside. He opens the door and we follow through it.

 “Suguruu! Try it like this,” a tall man with chaotic white bedhead assembles some cavity-inducing dessert and offers it to Geto with pride. Actually, they're the same height. Geto's baggy clothes make him look short. And I hadn't seen him stand before.

“Gojo! You're okay!!” Yuuji throws his arms around his neck, and they laugh together.

I realize that Gojo isn't bandaged, but wearing a tight black blindfold. Not a single, slight injury on him.

“He's fine, but going for the world's biggest sugar crash,” Nanako comments, hardly looking up from her phone. Its bright green case with bunny ears sticks out. Mimiko curiously samples their creations. A plush doll hangs across her shoulders. 

Geto meets my gaze with soft dark eyes from behind the counter. “Thank you for looking after my daughters,” he says with an even softer voice. I wonder what Kenjaku sounded like from inside his body. “We're just warming up and assembling their leftovers. Can I make you something?”

“Um, whatever is good,” I accept, “just… Not as much sugar as that guy.” 

“Huh?” Gojo's mouth hangs open like a square.

Geto laughs lightly, “I understand,” and steps away. 

“Truly…I love pastries as much as the next bitch, but you take it too far,” Nobara remarks in her chest voice.

“I agree with her.” Someone adds from a dark corner. The guy from before, with the shikigami, at a booth alone with black coffee. 

“Fushiguro! I missed you!” Yuuji slides in next to him.

Sukuna was looking forward to meeting this guy again… Where is he? I look out the front door. He's nowhere.

“Sukuna's sitting on the roof, sniping curses,” Gojo tells me casually.

“Oh… You're psychic?” I guess.

“I can see better than you, even through this,” he pulls the blindfold away and lets it snap back to his face. 

I trade my name for a plate from Geto and sink into an empty booth. The air is warm and smells of sugar. Does he know that he drank milk that was in my mouth? It's like...a violation...but he was dying.

“Hey,” Choso slides in across the table. 

I look up and smile at him. 

“I think… My brother wants to be with his friends right now.” His brows close together as he looks down at the crepe before him.

Choso wants to get closer to yuuji, and I'm trying to chase Choso. I rub my forehead and look past his shoulder. 

“Satoru! Look what you've done,” Geto's voice drifts like a pastel sky, impossibly light and gentle. 

“Oh, my deepest apologies, your majesty,” Gojo jokes, bowing to clean Geto's fingers with his mouth, raising his head to make seductive eye contact with him. 

They're like chaotic high school besties and gentle lovers at the same time. It kind of melts my heart.

“I should go,” Choso states.

“No!” I grab his forearm before he can stand, then pull back. Don't be aggressive.

“Sorry, I spaced out there… It's been a weird night,” i make the stupidest excuse. Like tonight was normal for anyone. 

The door opens. A fluffy black dog leads more people inside. 

“Aww, who's a good boy?” Yuuji calls him over.

“Are you done yet?” Megumi asks flatly, but his dark eyes sparkle. 

Yuuji hugs and pets the dog until it melts down to a black shadow in the floor.

“Aw, come on. You know I don't like you just for them, right?” 

Strange plushies with tufts of hair and uncanny faces stagger through the aisle.

I turn back to Choso. “Um, do you want to sit in that corner?” I nod to the farthest seats. 

There, we sit on the table, my back to everyone else. “Sorry for being so distracted. How are you feeling?”

Chapter 10

“i feel… More alive than before. My parent is dead. I have a living brother. I think I'm connecting more to my human side than to my cursed.” His dark eyes stare into a distance. The darkened skin around them spreads like decades of tear stains.

“Hee-hee,” a childlike giggle jumps onto the bench, the toy's vacant face stares into mine. 

I flinch so hard, my heart practically ejects. The edges of my vision pulse white and aggressive.

I try to orient myself. Focus on breathing. A strong arm holds me back from falling off the table.

“You're okay,” Choso says softly. I'm not sure if it was intended to be a question or a comfort.

“Thank you,” I blush and avert my clearing gaze, “you're always protecting me.”

“Yaga! Contain your corpses!” Gojo yells, throwing that thing to the front of the café.

Then he leans on the table across from ours.

“Sorry about those. Creepy, right?” He asks, leaning his head down like he'd be peering over the fabric but it has no gaps. 

I nod. Choso's hand moves along my shoulder and I lean into him.

“Almost as creepy as this.” Gojo holds a cube up on his fingertips. I can tell my face is as blank as my mind here. He puts it away.

“So… What were you two doing in Shibuya?”

I am relieved to get by with the half-true narrative that I ate a finger. They can think I'm normal like Yuuji.

“Ah. that explains the unregulated cursed energy.” He leans forward. “how would you like a career change?”

“if it means I don't have to work in the same cramped, haunted office every day - yeah, please sign me up.”

“Okay! Good to hear.” He smiles and leans back into the table.

“Choso. I respect your decision, but are you willing to make a pact in order to get in? Our old ass higher-ups might require it.”

“I have no ties to the curses or my father except for my cursed technique and my brother. I would have saved my mother from myself if I could.”

“I see. You have a pure heart. It was pretty funny when Jogo yelled at you for not attacking anyone,” Gojo chuckles. I haven't seen his eyes, but I can feel the eye contact.

“Since you've already graduated, and you aren't even a registered human… We can forge some documents, if you'd like. Anyway, there's an abandoned dorm we’ll set up for you and anyone else in a similar situation. 

Also , I know it's a pain , but try to document anything relevant to tonight's events before it's forgotten. Frankly, I'm just covering my ass to say that. I can't wait for these stupid reports to be over.” I think Nanako’s prophecy is hitting. The sugar crash.

“The cars will be here soon to drive us to jujutsu high. Can I see your phones?”

“I don't have one.” I look up at Choso's face. He isn't upset about it, just stating a fact.

I feel my pockets. I don't have my bag either. Where is my stuff? Burned, cut to shreds, or cast aside in that dreadful groaning building when I clocked out?

“Don't worry! We can get them later,” Gojo says like it's nothing serious. The blood returns to my face.

“Um, what's a pact?” I whisper to Choso.

“It's like a promise with cursed energy, and consequences for breaking.”

“Oh. I'm…not sure how to use cursed energy,” i shift so my legs dangle off the edge.

“It's okay. I can help you.” Something warm in Choso's voice, in his steady hand that never left my arm. 

Headlights on black cars line up outside. A man with short dark hair and small dark glasses stands across from Sukuna, who stands out like a bride in his white kimono. They shake hands while people in black suits stand in front of their cars, recording the event on their phones.

“I believe the pact they agreed to,” Gojo comments behind us, "is that he can go wherever he wants to, but not harm for the sake of it.” 

One of his lower red eyes flicks over and smiles at me.

I wonder if it weren't Halloween night, and if the average population hadn't evacuated, what kind of life Sukuna could have here. Societies tend to group together and judge idiosyncrasies so harshly. He'd be outcast as a monster, no doubt. Unless it's pulled off as a performance art… 

No. He'll get bored anywhere else. 

“Okay, team! Gojo is ready for bed! Let's hit those cars.”

edit to add a/n: there is a sequel which begins immediately after this scene. you can find that through the ao3 link above.

[literallylovelynosolaire]

This took me almost a month and I actually fucking hate it but for those who wanted the Treasure turning fic, it's your lucky day!!

Tag List: @darlin-collins @brainrotcharacters @aimedis @therealbr1gh7ey3s @spuffyfit and I think that's all

Warnings: Physical Violence, Car Accident, Unconsensual Turning, Mentions of previous arguments, suicidal implications, depictions of dissociation, probably some mischaracterization, and I will admit my writing here feels a little lazy so I apologise, also I didn't proof read because I'm tired.

Happy New Years/New Years Eve!! Depending on Timezone

"I'm not the only coward in this room"

Those words burned into their tender heart as they reminisce just moments before now. Their mind flooding with every blink of their eyes, their fists clenching as they glared at the laundry pile Porter had earlier ridiculed. They glared for what felt like hours until they felt a moisture slide down their cheeks. They couldn't possibly be crying. Their ears rang as the tears fell, and their body moved on it's own. Shoving through the door and wandering aimlessly and thoughtlessly.

*What am I doing?* Their thoughts finally coherent, the dissociation finally worn off. The feelings finally broken through their barricade. They continue to wander, to make any desperate attempt at escaping their thoughts. Their *feelings*.

Hours had passed, though it felt like weeks to them. Aimlessly trudging through damp, dark forest terrains, recklessly thudding into trees, bruising their arms and sides.

Their clothing now dirtied, their eyes sunken and red from the endless streams of tears, their nose stuffed with the agony of the earlier argument, their legs weak from the abuse they had given themselves to escape the abuse of their mind.

"If you think for one second that what we have here isn’t both of us running away, then you need to turn that appraising gaze inward for a bit."

There they were again. Those words burning and bruising their being as they question, everything.

Were they just an escape to him?

Did he ever truly care for anything *but* his escape?

Why them?

Their vision blurred as the tears stung their cheeks again, now stumbling out of the forst and onto a sidewalk.

"Look at that person over there, they look a mess!" A drunken voice cackled from across the street, followed by a group of friends laughing. Their gaze fixed onto the ground as their agony and despair turned to anger and a rage that would soon be unbridled.

Before common sense could stop them, they lunged off of the sidewalk and into the traffic, avoiding doom narrowly as they approached the group.

Seconds later, the voice's face was full of Treasure's fist. They pounded and pounded, wailing as all the emotion they carried finally poured itself out.

The moments blurred together, their arms were taken by another member of the group, one that unfortunately, looked a lot like Porter. The hair, the build, they screamed Porter.

"LET ME GO" They scolded in protest, flailing their limbs before the leader finally threw their punch. The Porter-lookalike, let them go just before the hit was landed. The impact threw their limp, weak body into oncoming traffic a car hitting them mid-fall.

Blood. It was all they could feel, all they could hear, all they could see. Barely conscious, in the middle of the street Treasure attempts to sit up, failing miserably.

Just as miserably as they failed at helping the one they loved.

Their body numbed as their thoughts continued to belittle them before unconsciousness finally overtook them. Their blood flooding the street as the driver leapt out of the car with urgency, Lovely. They rushed to Treasure's side, panic overflowing their senses.

Treasure would never be able to come back from this. Their bones snapped like twigs scattered across a park, bleeding out to what could've been death.

Lovely frantically rested their fingers on Treasure's neck, checking their pulse. Listening for their breathing. It was shallow, quiet, tortured and agonized.

***They aren't going to survive this.***

Lovely's head rushed as what little composure they could've kept cracked under the pressure. The adrenaline taking the reigns on their body, they bit their wrist before feeding their blood to the pitiful, withered, unconscious Treasure. Picking up Treasure's wrist and beginning to sip.

Blood for blood.

A new 'life' over a death that Treasure yearned for.

A death Lovely had almost granted them.

*Timeskip*

Ears ringing, heart pounding, body numbing like a corpse. Hushed voices came from behind the door as Treasure's exhaustingly heavy eyelids lifted themselves to reveal their unfamiliar surroundings. Their mind became frantic while their body was all too exhausted and broken to do anything but look around with anxious eyes. Taking in the exquisitely decorated room around them, it ever so slightly resembled the room Porter took them to, the night of their first dalliance.

Where am I?

Is this some sort of afterlife?

*Am I finally free?*

Questions arose within their mind as the doorknob turned, the long creak of the door opening ringing in Treasure's ears as Lovely entered. Their hands trembling with a guilt only a Maker would know.

"Are you alright?" Lovely chirped out, still shaken up themselves. They approached Treasure's bedside, resting their gaze on the pathetic creature.

"Wh..Who are you?" They sighed out, mind still rushing with questions their body wasn't ready to articulate.

"Lovely, Lovely Solaire. I'm so sorry I..." They trailed off, guilt dripping from their voice, their silvery crimson eyes avoiding Treasure's as they clasped their hands in a purely pathetic attempt of self soothing. "You.. were in an accident, and you weren't going to make it"

"Weren't?" Treasure's hoarse cracked voice interjected, "I'm not.." realization began set in. Making itself comfortable and torturing Treasure's mind almost immediately.

Death hadn't claimed them.

*Solaire*, this person was a member of Porter's house.

*Why can't I ever escape him?*

Their breath hitched as their mind began to rush again

*An accident?*

Their exhales became shakier as their lips began to tremble as they looked over at Lovely. Taking note of their eyes and paled skin, before looking down at their own hands.

Paled, dry, *dead*.

"What have you done?"

Lovely exhaled, trembling "I'm so sorry, I..I panicked and I lost control, it was the only thing I could think to do, and I know I shouldn't have, and I am eternally in apologetic debt to you, I'm so sorry" They sputtered, and stumbled over their words, sincerity dripping from their apologies as Treasure blankly stared down at their hands. Their senses blurring as their breaths became quicker, the thoughts became louder.

***This had to be a nightmare, right? They were going to wake up any second, in Porter's arms. Right?***

"You're lying. You have to be." Treasure muttered, their mind refusing to accept their new pathetically purposeless, eternal, reality.

"I'm so sorry...I'm telling the truth, this is all real and I'm so incredibly sorry"

The lump in Treasure's throat grew denser as realization had completed its task in making Treasure's mind its playground.

A strong tensioned silence filled the room, as Treasure began hearing what was once unhearable.

"..What does this mean for me?" A strange, unnatural, chilling calm had settled over them, still staring at their hands.

"I don't..I don't know. There's this house-"

"The Solaire house"

"Yes, the, Solaire house..they aren't, *ideal* but you'll need stability after something like this"

"Yeah. I get it."

Timeskip!!

Days passed like hours, the turning transition was rough, but Porter's absence was rougher. They'd never admit it after what he'd said but, they missed him more than any part of their humanity.

"Hey..you okay?"

Lovely's voice snapped Treasure out of their spiral, dragging back to their absolute shitshow of a reality. No matter how helpful their maker tried to be.

"You got everything?"

Treasure nodded, zipping up their last bag, full of their laundry.

"Whatever your equivalent conundrum would be, like..I don't know..should you actually do your laundry tonight or just push the pile farther over on the bed?"

***"Again?"***

Treasure hugged their arms into their chest, sitting on the floor of their old home looking around at its emptiness.

"Lovely"

"Yes?"

"Will I matter here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've spent my whole life mattering the least, being told that, my problems are mere and trivial. Will that change here?"

"I can't promise that you'll be treated the way you should be, not by everyone in the house."

"So no."

"You didn't let me finish"

"And you didn't let me die."

"I..Treasure I'm sorry I-"

"Forget it. Please. Let's just get this over with."

Treasure's pained snarky response punctuated the conversation as they stood, picking up their bags and carrying them outside. The moon gleaming down on their paled skin as they released the bags from their hands.

"What now?"

"William has sent assistance to help you take your stuff to your new-"

With a woosh Lovely was cut off by a fellow vampire arriving to the scene in a car. Without another word they loaded the car and off they went.

The short minutes dragged on in Treasure's mind as they made their way, before they knew it, they had arrived.

Stepping out of the car, they gazed upon what looked like a palace out of a fantasy book.

"Cmon, I've gotta introduce you to William..ugh."

Treasure arched their brow silently following behind Lovely, striding into the castle, a light clicking of their heels upon the velvety floor as they made their way atop the staircase. Lovely knocked, almost immediately warranting William's silky voice in response.

"Come in"

Lovely inhaled shakily, pressing the door open and stepping inside, Treasure trailing behind.

A tensioned silence flooded the room after the door shut.

"Treasure..?"

Porter stood, once facing William now looking at his jewel. Eyes widening at their altered appearance he studied them, "Treasure what happened-"

"Why so concerned Porter? Oh..i see, do I finally have more than laundry to worry about now? Am I extraordinary enough to care about you now?"

William cleared his throat, the room filled with an awkwardness only a poet has the words to describe.

"Lovely, I believe this..conversation is best had another day." He says with a rare gentleness, glancing between Porter and Treasure

"Right." Lovely nods, signaling Treasure to turn and walk back out. As Treasure lifted their leg to walk out, a swift hand snatched their wrist. Porter.

"Treasure, please I'm sorry-"

Treasure yanked their hand from him, turning on their heel as the door shut behind them, now in the hallway.

"You're not fucking sorry"

"Treasure please believe me there is nothing I regret more than the way I left you that night"

"Good."

"What..?"

"You heard me. You've got super hearing don't you? Fucking use it. You said you wanted us to get to know each other. You promised a vulnerability that you then cut me down and hurt me for wanting. I guess you were right, Porter...

I don't and never will understand you."

[bettystonewell]

HELLO BETH !

Thank you for your question (I‘ll reply to it asap. Need a moment to think about it 😂)

Now it’s my turn hehehe (thanks to you and @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth, you infected me with the tumblr zoomies!)

YOU‘RE MY FIRST VICTIM

Remember when you said that old lady kept asking you about the bible?

Well. She returns for a third time. And just when you wish someone would drag you away, she’s interrupted by a loud baby screaming in the line behind her.

You both turn to see this:

What would you do? Realistically and otherwise 😉🧡

WARNING: self/reader insert fic ahead + Aussie slang, but there’s also DEAN ❤️

Well, Hello Jolly!

OH, my friend. I don’t think you know what you’re asking. I know I seem so kind AND I AM, but I’m also a terrible person.

Before I answer your question, I need to give you some context, so I’m breaking this into two parts. The backstory, and then an actual story at the end featuring Dean, yours truly, and the old Bible lady.

You’re looking at close to 3k words.

*For anyone who might be reading, and are scratching their heads at this ask, HERE’s the context for it

(If you scroll down to the next purple line like the one above, you’ll find the fic)

My day job is what we call a merchandiser here in Australia. I’m one of those people who goes from store to store, representing the brand I work for. I fix displays, tidy, fold, unpack all the pretty new stock, etc. Because of all that, I’m also one of THOSE PEOPLE who tells you they don’t work for the store you need help in, even though I’m clearly working. And guess what? I’m allowed to say it if you’re not shopping for my brand.

Now, normally on the day to day, I have this weird default mode. I hate confrontations, and I would rather back down and walk away, or in this case be polite over telling old ladies all about twigs and berries.

So if I see a customer that clearly needs help, I have two options. I can tell them straight up, “Sorry, I don’t work here. I'm just working for XXX brand,” but sometimes I’m just not in the mood and what I do most often is this:

I’m fucking Houdini! The second you come near me, with something that I can tell is not my problem, I’m noping out. So today, well, technically, it was yesterday by the time of posting this, I saw an older lady doing an Austin Powers multiple point turn with her shopping trolley a couple of racks over. You know this:

Well, I did this:

I’m terrible. She knocked some stock over that wasn’t mine, and I fucking ran 😂

Which brings me to the crying baby.

Now. I have two kids. Love ‘em to pieces. People keep telling me I should try working in child care or becoming a teacher’s aide so I can work at my children’s school and work school hours and to that, I say HELL NO.

I love my kids. I worked as a teacher in Japan for four years and half that time I was teaching little kids. I LOVED those kids, too. I got two marriage proposals out of my junior high kids (that sounds super dodgy, but it was honestly 11-13 yo’s shouting out “Beth-Sensei! Will you marry me?” while I stood at the front of the classroom, straight-faced and trying not to laugh - seriously I have some stories to tell). BUT now that I have my own? I don’t love other people’s children. And I especially dislike babies.

You see? Terrible.

To further explain, until I got to the point in my life when I got clucky and thought having a baby would be a great idea, babies scared me! If a coworker came in with a brand new baby, guess what I was doing? Yup:

I’ll admit they’re cute, but unless I know you, I ain’t coming near that thing with a ten-foot pole. What do I do with it? What if I drop it? I might be polite (yk, my default mode) if I have to stand near you. I might agree with whomever I’m with on how cute they are, but honestly, that puppy across the road is looking a whole lot sweeter. Unless they’re my babies, of course, and even then, at their current ages, that puppy is looking mighty cute…

My four-year-old asked me to make him a toasted ham and cheese sandwich for dinner instead of the dinner I was actually making for us. I’m a nice mum. I said sure. When he asked if he could help, it was a little frustrating, but I let him because I don’t want him to be a man baby who can’t cook for himself when he’s older.

We got butter everywhere. We had a tantrum when I suggested he get his stool so he could reach the bench better. He wanted me to get it for him, I caved and got it (great parenting Beth, really sticking to your guns), and after all that, when he sat down to eat it, he wanted to pull off the ham and ditch the rest…

Okay, yes, a baby wouldn’t do that. But if I saw a guy like Dean, struggling to deal with Bobby-John, he’s the baby in my eyes, and I’m running away from him.

So to your question:

What would I do, realistically or otherwise, if I was being bothered by the old lady and her bible, and I turned around and saw Dean and the baby?

My first thought was, wait, do I know who he is? Is he Dean zapped not only out of the tv, but also Down Under for whatever reason? Is it Jensen Ackles hanging out in my local shopping centre, or is this Dean, Dean, and everything in the show is real, I’m in their universe playing a dumb civilian, and for whatever reason, he’s ended up Down Under?

Side note: Do you know what a down under kiss is? Or that in Australia we have a euphemism for vagina - the map of Tassie. It’s named after that tiny little island of Tasmania (that no one cares about) at the bottom of our map. Go check it out. Notice the shape… I’m not making this up.

Yes, I’m an over-thinker. Don’t ask me to tell you my favourite movie, I will sweat buckets thinking you’re going to hold me to my answer for the rest of my life.

I think you see where I’m going with this, but I’m still going to humour you with a swashbuckling tale of this situation.

*Cracks knuckles*

FOUR ADULTS AND A CRYING BABY

Starring: Dean Winchester, Sam, yours truly (in third person), the old lady with the Bible, and Bobby-John Summary: It was just a normal work day, until it wasn’t - or - holy fuck! That’s Dean Winchester! Why does he have a baby? Warnings: language, craziness

A Monday morning in March. A week since cyclone Alfred was supposed to hit her corner of the state, and she’s frazzled. Forgot she’d promised her manager she’d go into the store on Friday to make up for the visit she couldn’t get to on account of school being closed. 

Why couldn’t that cyclone have just hit? Really. All that fuss, and nothing to show for it. Yes. The fence had to be tied up with a zip tie so it wouldn’t fall down, “we will rebuild,” but where was the big emergency that made having the kids at home for almost a week worthwhile?

The fighting? The tantrums? Okay, she was lucky she didn’t lose her roof. Or the power. Her mum and dad are currently cut off from the main road in their town and can’t leave. Friends are running electricity through a generator because in their pocket of their tiny suburb, they still don’t have power. Yet SHE complains.

No bother. The kids have been dropped off. She’s going to treat herself to some McDonald’s breakfast and an iced latte. Chill for a bit in the food court, working on her writing before she goes to work. 

Her own slice of heaven, minus the noise, but she’s got her earphones for that. And she sits there at the little bench, charging her phone at the same time because Tumblr likes to drain her battery hard and she needs the device for work. Her hand burns under the heat of her iPhone’s blue, but cracked finish. 

She types away. Her fingers glide over the keyboard with ease as she whips up a headcanon about her current favourite hunk of spunk, Dean frigging Winchester, and why he likes to get slapped in the face by a woman wearing a Zorro mask during sex. 

She thanks H for that. H was a genius when she sent that ask. Hilarious H. 

Our heroine giggles to herself as she changes words like breasts to jubblies, and dicks to swords. She slides in another reference to Snickerdoodles & Special Sauce. She refers to Dean’s junk as a set of twigs and berries the second time. 

Damn, Austin Powers, you really are the man.

She’s so focused on her task at hand that she gets a little surprise when out of the corner of her eye she notices someone approaching. Someone who stares. 

But she is nice. She’s not feeling all that terrible at the moment. Frustrated, sure, but this is just a tiny kink in the machine that is her day. She’s enjoying her coffee. Her children are someone else’s problem. And she has not a care in the world. Daydreaming of Dean just does that. 

“Hi,” she says to the little old lady, smiling at her. 

She smiles back. Of course she does, because she is in default mode. She is nice. But inside? Inside, she’s screaming. She has her suspicions. Little old lady, frail and smiling. One who reaches her hands out to take hold of hers. One that’s not afraid to interrupt someone younger than her, busy on her phone and wearing earphones. One that lives in this part of her state, too.

She’s gotta be a Jehovah’s Witness. Or something similar. There’s no way this old lady wants to chat with her about anything other than god.

“Hello,” the old lady says. “Could I talk to you about—”

“No sorry.” There is no way she’s even letting the word slip from the sweet old lady’s mouth. Is she sweet? Really? Coming on up into her space to talk about a man in the sky. Chuck was not all that sweet in the show in the end. What does this lady know?

A smile exchanges between both women again, and the discussion, what lack there is of one, ends. 

The old lady goes to another unsuspecting group, and she’s left alone. 

But we all know that wasn’t the case. We know she moves. She moves closer to the store she’s working in that day, trailing through the shopping centre. Under the bright lights, dodging other customers going about their day.  

She passes the juice bar, Boost Juice, and she contemplates getting one if she has time when she finishes. Past a shoe store, a phone one, the giant grocery chain she shops at, but refuses to go to this one. She hates people, and this one is always busier. 

She finds another seat, a cluster of them right out front of the store she’s working at that day, and finishes what she’s doing. She knows she needs to start work soon in order to get to school pick up on time, so she’s quick. And as she finishes up her final edits, lo-and-behold, who appears, but none other than the old lady, wanting to talk about her Bible again. 

The transaction is quicker, thank god - the irony - and she’s left alone in peace again to finish and upload her piece. But it’s not over. No. Her other online friend J has decided it is not so, and so we jump in time to after the shift, when our heroine decides to pick up a few things from the same grocer she avoids.

Imagine if you will, dear friends. A large Australian grocery store. At the front, rows of shopping trolleys, a help desk behind them where cigarettes and gift cards are sold. Checkouts to the right, fresh fruit and vegetables to the left, and rows upon rows of groceries behind all that.

She likes to use the self serve checkouts, working in retail and often being time poor, she likes to do it herself. Knows how to work the registers faster than the other customers, but not today. She’s buying a carton of Coke, the drink kind, not the kind you sniff. She doesn’t even know what to do with the other stuff, let alone where to buy it.

So she stands in the twelve items-or-less line. She has one item, she’s allowed, and she’s waiting when lo-and-behold, guess who shows up?

How long can one old lady go around talking to people about the Bible in a shopping centre? Their last encounter was three hours ago… But of course she’s forgotten that, and she looks up at her with those kind old lady eyes and opens her mouth to speak when the shriek of a baby rampages through the air.

Dear lord. Was the kid dropped on their head? The sound is deafening. Her eardrums throb as the high-pitched sound pierces through the small skin that covers them and protects her brain.

Of course, she’s smiling. She’s in public, and she’s still in nice mode, but it’s wearing thin.

She looks to the sound with many regrets, but is stunned like a mullet who’s jumped into her father’s tinny, and slapped her young brother on the head. 

Dean frigging Winchester? No. No way!

She rubs her eyes as the cartoons her kids force her to watch on repeat love to do, and she takes a second glance.

“Oh how sweet,” old lady coos, but we know she’s delusional. She wants to tell people about god and forgets when she’s already asked them twice.

Our heroine thinks she’s delusional, too. Maybe cyclone Alfred was worse than they thought and she’s Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Bumped her head? Had her house fall on a witch. Oz was in an episode of Supernatural, right?

Is that what’s happening here?

The guy who stands in the next checkout line over to her has Jensen Ackles’ face. If it’s not him, it’s a damn good doppelgänger, parading around in Dean’s clothing. What the hell?

He holds the screaming child up in the air, much like he did to Bobby-John, and - oh my god - is that Jared Padelecki, too?

What the hell are they doing not only in Australia, but in a suburban little supermarket, dressed as Sam and Dean?

She takes out her phone, close at hand, and opens up her camera. No way she’s not taking a photo of this. But she’s also torn. She doesn’t want to miss this opportunity. She’s going to the Sydney Supernatural Convention in June and those guys won’t be there, just Misha, and god knows who else, but there’s also a baby, and it’s screeching.

She takes a few photos, all while watching the fiasco. What would she say? What would she do? She doesn’t want to go near that baby. Her tummy is flipping all over the place, and the top of her lip twinges at the thought of ever saying hi.

They’re celebrities. She’s far beneath them, especially now, covered in work fluff, dust and sweat.

Her hair, frazzled. She’s wearing her retail black. She’s a hot mess, but she’s not bringing the hot. She’s only hot because she’s burning up with a fire that just comes around Jared and Jensen, or so she’s heard. She’s sure feeling it!

“Come on Bobby-John. What do you need, huh?” Jensen says, and man, talk about method acting. Where’s the cameras and crew?

“Dude. Would you do something?” Jared hisses loud enough so that she hears.

Should she be smiling? Should she expect someone to jump out any minute and say, “Smile, you’re on candid camera!”

Fuck that. 

She pays for her goods. She looks at the two men, even goes up a little closer, and tries to listen in on what they're saying some more. Of course, she pretends to be looking at her phone while all this is happening. It’s not even pretend. She’s zooming in on the photos to study their faces and clothes.

“We need to find a, ah, a working phone. Call Bobby. See if he can figure out what the hell’s going on,” Jared says as they move towards her now. Trolly full of baby supplies. 

“Hey, do you think the shifter’s a witch, too? A wifter?” Jensen gives a couple of heh’s. The same one he gave when Dean joked with Cas about the Ghoulpires. 

Damn. They’re good.

She glances at them, meets Jensen’s eyes. Fuck, he’s so handsome. That jaw. Those brilliant greens pick up the logo of the supermarket’s apple swirl. His smile as he catches her looking is lopsided. Embarrassed, but also curious. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, and she can’t breathe. They smell divine. That’s some woody cologne, and a touch of leather? Who cares! Jensen Ackles is talking to her with his Dean voice! 

She chuckles. It’s more of a choke, a whine, a moan? 

She can’t move. Can’t run away. She’s stupefied in the spot in the middle of the shopping centre while Jared Padelecki stares at her with a cocked brow. Hair tucked behind his ears, pushing a trolley and a baby, still screeching by the way, Jensen still at his side. 

“Don’t suppose we could borrow your phone there?” he gestures at the phone in her hand.

Without a word, because her lungs are still dried up, and she’s now having palpitations cause of the kid, she hands it over, fingers brush against his, and she’s now stuck there, only now realising their photographs are right there on the screen.

“What the hell are you doing taking our pictures” Jensen is no longer happy. There’s no goofy smile on his dial. Shit, she’s going to be staring down at an NDA soon.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” she says. Bow’s her head like she’s still living in Japan. 

“Do you know something?” Jared adds. His face is more relaxed, somewhat amused. 

What should she say, what should she do? “I, ah,” she lets out another weird laugh that squeaks in her throat, “I was too afraid to come up and say hi.” She shrugs. Where’s the old Bible lady now?

“Say hi? What? Do you know us?” There’s that Dean voice again, and it’s travelling to places she doesn’t wanna admit. He’s a married man.

“Ah, yeah? You’re Jensen, and he’s Jared,” she says, and at first the latter just stares. 

His mouth opens and closes. His green eyes go wide. “J-j-Jensen?” He turns to Jared, who’s looking just as shocked. “Son of a bitch,” he says, and she’s swooning. 

He said the line!

“Where are we?” he turns back to her, and now she’s confused. 

She states the name of the suburb they’re in, and when they both still look confused, which is impossible. How else did they get there? Come to think of it, where’s Cliff and their bodyguards?

“Brisbane?” she says, and still they stare.

“Queensland?”

She has to wave at their blank expressions. The damn kid still cries like a banshee.

“Australia?”

And this is where I leave you my loves! I hope that was enjoyable. If you want to know more, you will have to beg for it ❤️

I’m tagging my moots/readers who usually seem to appreciate the crazy, have enjoyed Aussie!reader content, who I know are parents themselves or have become involved in this for whatever reason - I’m SOOOOOO SORRY (but also not really) @waynes-multiverse @supernotnatural2005 @ambiguous-avery @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @voodoochildthings @middleearthislife @ladysparkles78 @losers-clvb @mostlymarvelgirl @my-stories-vault