#i can’t believe this is still happening

[luveline]

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe. 

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it. 

“What happened?” 

“They were kissing.” 

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 

“Are you sure?” 

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 

“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 

“You think I’m overreacting.” 

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask. 

“Angel?” 

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 

“I didn’t really look.” 

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 

Footsteps. A door opening. 

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 

“Can you hug me?” 

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 

“I am?” 

“Just a little…” 

You try your best to stand completely still. 

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 

“Can I explain it to you later?” 

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 30] Graduation

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff

*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️

**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p

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“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”

“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.

“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”

“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.

“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”

“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.

You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.

Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 

The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 

If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.

“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.

“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.

“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.

You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.

“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”

“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 

“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 

“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”

“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.

“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”

“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.

“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”

“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 

“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 

“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”

“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.

“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.

“Let’s get going.”

The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 

Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.

“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.

“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”

“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”

“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.

You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.

“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.

“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.

“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.

“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.

“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.

“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”

“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 

“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.

“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”

“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.

“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”

“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 

“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.

“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.

“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 

“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.

“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”

“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”

“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,

“Have you seen my mom?”

“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.

Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.

“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”

“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”

“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”

“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.

“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”

“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.

“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”

“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.

“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”

“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.

“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”

“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.

“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 

Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.

“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.

“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.

“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.

“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.

You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.

“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”

“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”

“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”

“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”

“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.

You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.

“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.

You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.

Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 

“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.

“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,

“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.

“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”

“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.

Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.

Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 

You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.

“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.

He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.

You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 

You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 

Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.

“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.

“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.

His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.

“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 

“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 

He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”

You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.

“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.

“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.

“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.

“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 

He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.

“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 

You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.

“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 

He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.

“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”

“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”

“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.

You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 

“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.

“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 

“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”

[runariya]

Part 2 of this | shout out to @slut4jeon who made this happen part of the prompt game pairing: metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, S2L warnings: survival after nuclear fallout, foul language, basically just smut, jealous JK, oral (f. receiving), a bit of handjob, boobplay, fingering, squirting, a bit of eating out and finger sucking, unprotected seggs, a bit of cock warming, spanking, body worshipping, they are just whipped for each other, rough possessive seggs, JK's a bit whiney, cum shot, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.336

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Living in the Metro is, to say the least, completely unexpected. It’s like stepping into an alternate universe compared to the outside world. Not that it’s entirely safe here, with certain stations better avoided, especially when you’re on your own, but it’s still so much safer than anything you could have ever wished for.

What’s also otherworldly is living with Jungkook. It’s not only a luxury but like living in a constant dream. You’d never have believed you’d find someone like him, not even when the world was green, and the skies were blue before everything fell apart. But here you are, living the dream because Jungkook is the best partner you could ever hope for.

There isn’t a single day that passes where he isn’t more than willing and eager to please you to the best of his abilities—abilities that are beyond heaven. If you’re sad? He fucks you. If you’re happy? He fucks you too. And if you’re angry with him for reasons you can’t even recall? He’s usually the one responsible for making you forget in the first place.

You’d never complain, though, and never would you deny him or the multitude of orgasms he grants you day in and day out.

Like right now. He saw a seller at Riga Station, the trading hub of the Metro, being a bit too friendly with you. The man even gave you a rare flower, despite everyone knowing you belong to Jungkook. Hoseok just wanted to wind him up, and you suspect he did it on purpose.

“Sit down,” Jungkook orders, pacing the small room while his jaw ticks dangerously. You obey, clutching the flower tightly, not at all scared but rather anticipating the ‘punishment’ you know is coming.

“So now you’re collecting gifts from every man in—”

“I’m not collecting anything, Kook, he gave it to me volunta—”

“Voluntarily?! You didn’t just say that.”

You nod, biting your lip to suppress a smile as you watch Jungkook spiral further into frustration.

“Are you still looking for someone better? Is that it?”

“You never give me flowers,” you pout dramatically, and when Jungkook gestures with both hands to the wall overflowing with flowers and other gifts, you almost feel guilty enough to stop the game and tell him how good he is to you.

Almost.

But you don’t, because his next words are exactly what you’ve been waiting for.

“Maybe I need to remind my girlfriend who’s worthy of her.”

And as Jungkook strides towards you, ripping his army shirt off, you toss the flower aside you don’t care about. In seconds, he’s on you, crushing his lips against yours, his lip piercings digging into your lower lip as his hands grip every inch of your body.

You’re both naked in the blink of an eye, Jungkook alternating between sucking and licking your nipples while you jerk his perfect, hard cock. The sight of him worshipping your body like this never gets old, and his touch is never the same twice.

“I’m going to make sure I’m the only one on your mind.”

Jungkook’s fingers glide down to your cunt, pushing two fingers inside once you’re wet enough. The way his thick fingers stretch you sends stars exploding behind your eyelids, and the pace he sets, combined with his mouth and free hand still working on your tits, is utterly intoxicating. 

It’s insane how he can fuck you so perfectly with just his fingers, knowing exactly where to touch you. When he adds a third finger, thrusting as deep as he can, you know he’s not messing around this time. The burn from the stretch only intensifies when he rasps into your ear, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“Kook!” you cry as he presses particularly hard. You didn’t know he could be this possessive, but God, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.

“Scream my name, love! Let everyone in this forsaken hellhole know who owns you.”

“Jungkook!” you moan as his fingers thrust relentlessly into you, his wrist occasionally grazing your clit, sending you even higher.

“Fuck yeah. My goddess.”

Your tits and neck are littered with hickeys at this point, and you’ve forgotten all about his cock in your slackened grip, but he doesn’t care. He never cares—his sole focus is your pleasure.

It’s when Jungkook leans back, looking down at you with his lips swollen and shining, that it all undoes you. Your orgasm crashes through you, fast and hard, and even though he’s made you squirt before, it never fails to shock and slightly embarrass you.

But Jungkook doesn’t let you dwell on that. He pulls his fingers out, licks them clean, and then dives straight between your legs, licking up every drop like always.

You’re spent, completely worn out, but you know it’s far from over. His cock is standing proudly, angrily red and ready for its well-deserved attention.

You’d like to give him head, but you know you wouldn’t survive it after what he just did to you. Jungkook, knowing you too well, simply lines himself up and pushes inside without breaking eye contact.

Every inch of him makes your head spin, especially when he bottoms out completely, filling you in a way that makes you never want to be without him.

You’re confused for a moment when he doesn’t move, and then you catch his lazy, wicked smirk. His hands run up and down your thighs before hooking them under your knees and pushing you further into him, making you moan involuntarily.

“You’re going to accept gifts from other men?”

You hesitate. Should you tease him further or stop while you’re ahead?

“Yes?” you test, but it’s clearly the wrong answer.

Jungkook’s hand smacks your ass, making you yelp, moan, and clench around him, only causing that smirk to grow.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said yes.”

Another smack, another moan.

“You think this is funny?”

There’s something about a jealous Jungkook that hits differently, and despite knowing not to push him too far, you also know what’s coming is exactly what you both crave in this doomed world.

“Yes.”

Again, his hand strikes your ass, and this time you can’t hold back, your cunt squeezing so violently around him, coating his abs and thighs with a new wave of arousal. 

“How about I fuck that ‘yes’ out of you, huh?”

There’s no time to answer before Jungkook slams into you without mercy, stealing any possible words from your lips.

“Where’s your big mouth now?”

It’s gone, completely useless. You can only pant in time with his brutal thrusts, his fingers digging deeper into your legs as he forces you even closer, higher, as you cling to his wrists, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Scream my name, ____.”

He thrusts harder, but your voice is stolen, only broken cries escaping your lips.

“Scream!” Another slap across your by now red ass, the only thing holding you together is his massive cock.

“Jungkook!” you finally cry out, so loud you swear it echoes not only through you both but through the entire Metro as well. 

“Again.” Smack.

“Jungkook! Yes!”

“That’s right.”

And with that, you’re gone, chanting his name with every thrust, every drop of sweat that falls from him onto your body. Your next orgasm washes over you without mercy.

You know he’s close, too, when he abruptly pulls out like he always does and starts jerking himself off. 

With his eyes locked on you, he comes with a desperate whine, spilling white all over your body like a masterpiece.

He’s beautiful, your gorgeous, perfect boyfriend.

Jungkook collapses onto you, and your fingers instinctively find their way into his hair while he catches his breath.

“You know there’s only you, right?”

He grumbles in response.

“I love you, Kook. Don’t think otherwise.”

“I love you too,” he grumbles again, voice still muffled, but you don’t mind. It just makes him even more endearing.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Bro... how would Stanley/Stanford deal with their s/o (y/n) having a stalker? (As someone who has been a victim of stalking, it's terrifying)

They are afraid to go outside to do things such as check the mail, gets harassed online through text/emails, and overall just terrified 24/7, constantly paranoid with the fear of the worst happening to them if they let their guard down :(

Stan will wholeheartedly stay with you, just so he could use Ford’s crossbow because how dare some creepy fuck make you feel unsafe inside and outside the house.

He’ll fist fight them if he must, also he’ll use this as an excuse to teach you kickboxing.

If he ever find out where this stalker lives, best believe that he’ll make sure they’ll be the one scared to come out of their one house by sending letters depicting threats of what he’d do should they step a toe out of their own home, and it’s in excruciating detail.

However if the stalker try to send the letter into the police, the police can’t seem to trace who sent the letter…Stan is too good at what he does it’s almost terrifying but it works out for you as the stalker is scared as shit that someone will set throw a Molotov cocktail at them while getting the mail…or depants them when they least expect it.

‘Don’t you think this is a bit much?’ You asked.

‘Where they’re threatening my baby? Never, I could’ve done way worse for you.’ Stan said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, keeping you close to his side as you both snuggled up together while watching television, feeling the safest you ever been in a long while.

Stan then proceeds to run the bastard over in his car ❤️

Ford will probably have some sort of surveillance cameras set up that he would check now and then for any and all abnormal activity regarding your stalker.

He doesn’t take this kindly as Bill had a tendency to watch him closely, so much so to the point that every time he was out in the woods he felts as though he was being watched, surveyed and observed like he was nothing sort of a experiment.

Gives you his crossbow to shot the bastard between the eyes because the was legal right? Well it is in certain dimensions and he’ll be damned if he didn’t give you something to protect yourself with if something bad were to happen.

He doesn’t trust the police, he thinks their incompetent and can’t do their jobs for shit. So he’ll take justice into his own hands by digging up as much dirt as he could on the person by enlisting some help from his most trusted friends.

But most importantly Ford makes sure you’re okay, makes you reassured and doesn’t make you feel shit for feeling like you were being watched, stalked and harassed online by someone who doesn’t know their boundaries. He’s still recovering rom his own experience with a psychopath (bill), and will make sure that you learn to heal and move on together by being a constant and reassuring presence within your life. A positive force that kept you safe and made sure you were okay at the beginning and end of every day.

He wants you to live your life freely, not scared of the outside.

If he sees that your being harassed online, Ford will make sure that the stalkers details are leaked to the public by whatever means necessary along with the creepy tendencies they have been known for but punished far too lightly for by the system that protects these creeps.

(Ford may sick the gnomes on the twat, claiming he had found them the perfect gnome royalty for them and see how they like it.)

[itneverendshere]

you going to jj’s little graduation, and you’re giving proud mom. even if he’s towering over you in his cap, and you’re pinching his cheeks, and as always rafes in awe of how much of natural caretaker

i'm a sucker for these three dynamic 😭😭😭😭 so i also added a little kie bc jj deserves all the teasing in the world after he made rafe's life miserable the past year🤭 hope you enjoy!🩵🫂

you've got no reason to be afraid - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe never wanted to go to this thing.

No, really. It wasn’t even one of those "I don’t wanna go, but deep down I actually care" moments. He genuinely didn’t want to show up.

Because honestly, why the hell was he going to JJ Maybank's graduation?

You dragged him here, and yeah, he was pretending to hate it every second of it, but...okay, maybe he was…a little proud of the guy for making it out alive. Sue him.

You’re buzzing around like a proud mom, and it’s almost hard to look at. Not because it’s annoying—okay, maybe it’s a little annoying—but more because it’s… god, he doesn’t even know. It’s just you.

You can’t help it. The whole natural caretaker thing, how you swoop in and take care of people like you’re born to do it. 

Rafe’s leaning against the wall while you’re annoying JJ, pinching his cheeks like he's still that scrappy little kid you saved from his old man’s rage. His stupid graduation cap keeps sliding off his head, and every time you fix it, he grins like an idiot.

The guy's taller than you, but it’s almost like it doesn’t matter. 

"You’re not gonna cry, are you?" JJ teases, standing there in his cap and gown like some kinda of scholar. It's hard to take it seriously, to be honest. 

You roll your eyes at him, "Shut up, Maybank. I’m allowed to be proud of you." You reach up again, smoothing down the collar of his gown, and it hits Rafe how much you care about this. 

He crosses his arms tighter over his chest, trying his best not to look too invested in the scene playing out in front of him. You’re still fussing over JJ, like some proud older sister at her little brother’s first big milestone, and Rafe… well, he’s trying not to roll his eyes for the third time in five minutes.

He pushes off the wall, just enough to glance at his phone, scrolling through his notifications to look busy, like he’s not watching this whole thing happen. He catches a glimpse of you laughing—JJ making some dumb joke about how he can’t believe he even graduated in the first place.

He didn’t get it at first. How could someone who’s been through what you’ve been through still have the energy to care about people like this?

Especially about someone like JJ? The scrappy, no-good kid from The Cut who spent more time getting into fights and drinking than actually passing his classes. But that’s the thing about you—you never gave up on people, even when everyone else had.

"You’re staring," you tease, glancing back at him with a grin, breaking his train of thought. "You okay over there, baby?"

Rafe straightens up, wiping the expression off his face before you can see too much. He’s quick to shrug, playing it off like he’s too cool to care about whatever’s going on. "Yeah, I’m fine," he mutters, locking his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. "Just wondering how long this is gonna take."

"Uh-huh." You’re not buying it for a second, but you let it slide. You know him better than anyone else, after all, “Get your ass here. We’re taking a picture.”

He sighs, letting out a dramatic huff like this is the worst thing he’s ever been asked to do. "You serious?" he groans, but he’s already pushing himself off the wall and walking over to where you’re standing with JJ.

“Dead serious,” you shoot back, giving him that look—the one that always gets him to do what you want, even when he’s trying to act like he’s above it.

JJ’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that says he knows Rafe’s just playing tough. He slings an arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Rafe’s eyes narrow, his possessiveness showing before he can even stop himself.

“Relaaaax, man,” JJ teases, catching the look. “You’re gonna burst a vein.”

He rolls his eyes but steps closer, standing right beside you as you hand your phone to some random kid to take the picture. The three of you huddle together and you pull Rafe in by his shirt, snuggling into his side like you always do, and despite himself, he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. Not enough for anyone else to notice—he’s too stubborn for that—but you feel it.

You always do.

The camera clicks, and just like that, the moment’s captured—JJ in his stupid graduation gear, you looking like a proud mom, and Rafe standing there like he’s not sure how he ended up a part of this weird little family, but maybe, just maybe, he’s okay with it.

“Alright, picture’s done. Can we leave now?” Rafe grumbles, already half-turned toward the parking lot.

You step in front of him to block his way. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. We’re going to the party.” Your voice has that no-nonsense tone, the one that makes him groan because he knows you mean business.

JJ laughs again, clapping Rafe on the back. “C’mon, man. You can survive a couple hours with us. Plus, there’s free beer.”

He arches a brow. “Free beer?”

“Yep. Keg’s already set up back at John B’s place,” JJ says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Rafe groans, but he doesn’t actually mind. Not when you’re looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing you want standing next to you, even if it’s at some ridiculous party in the Cut. In his little sister’s boyfriends house of all places. Sarah and John B’s on-again, off-again thing is enough drama for one lifetime.

 “But I’m not carrying your ass home when you get shitfaced.”

JJ smirks, patting his gown. “I’ll be fine, man. I graduated today. I’m an adult now.”

Rafe snorts. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

You’re already pulling Rafe toward the car, glancing back at JJ with a grin. “Come on. Let’s celebrate while you still have time to pretend you’re responsible.”

JJ’s talking a mile a minute, the entire drive, from the backseat, already planning out how he’s going to "run the party" and bragging about the free booze like it’s the highlight of his life. Rafe tunes most of it out, too focused on you, the warmth of your hand lingering even after you’ve let go. By the time you pull up to John B’s place, the sun’s starting to set and the yard is already half full with the Pogues. Kie’s there, Sarah too, probably.

You park, and before Rafe can even make a move, JJ’s already jumped out, tossing his cap onto the grass as he heads toward the keg. "Let’s get this party started bitches!" he shouts, and the small crowd cheers in response.

Great.

He climbs out of the car, walking around to meet you on the driver’s side. “You sure about this?” he asks, glancing toward the crowd. He’s not exactly best friends with these guys, and parties in the Cut… well, they’re not really his scene.

But you smile up at him, reaching for his hand and threading your fingers through his. "Yeah, I’m sure. You’ll survive, baby.”

He huffs, but when you start pulling him toward the party, he lets you. He always lets you. You weave your way through the small crowd of pogues, most of whom nod or wave at him but don’t bother trying to talk to him. 

You glance back, grinning as you lead the way toward the makeshift party area. “You’re not gonna hide in the corner the whole time, are you?” you tease, giving his hand a playful squeeze.

Rafe rolls his eyes but follows you, his free hand shoving into his pocket. “No promises,” he says, though a small part of him is already resigning to the fact that you’re probably going to drag him into the middle of everything by the end of the night.

Everything's already in full swing by the time you both find a spot near the keg. JJ’s surrounded by a group of people, handing out beers like it’s his personal mission to get everyone drunk. John B and Sarah are off to the side, leaning against the porch railing, sharing a laugh. Disgusting.

You flash him a smile before heading off to grab drinks, leaving him standing awkwardly near the keg, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

He’s mid-scroll on his phone again when he hears JJ’s voice call out, “Yo, Rafe!”

Rafe glances up, already preparing himself for whatever shit JJ’s about to throw his way.

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna stand there like some grumpy old man. You’re at my graduation party, man! You gotta at least try to have fun.” JJ’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly already a few beers in.

Rafe snorts, shaking his head. “I’m here, aren’t I? That’s gotta count for something.”

JJ laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Just didn’t think I’d see Rafe Cameron at a pogue party, y'know?”

“Don’t make me punch you in the face."

JJ grins again, but there’s something a little more genuine in his expression this time. “For real though, man. Thanks for coming. I know this isn’t your scene.”

Rafe’s about to answer with his usual sarcasm, but he catches the sincerity in JJ’s tone and decides to let it slide. He nods, his voice gruff as he says, “Yeah. Congrats, Maybank. You deserve it.”

JJ’s grin widens, and he raises his beer in a mock toast. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Before he can say anything else, you’re back with two beers in hand, nudging one toward him. “Here you go. Now you’ve got no excuse to look so miserable.”

Rafe takes the beer from you with a half-smirk, but his eyes are soft as he glances down at you. “I don’t look miserable.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Sure.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. It’s cheap, of course, and not exactly his taste, but he doesn’t complain. Not when you’re standing so close, looking up at him like you can see right through all his bullshit. He watches you for a moment, the way you light up around these people, the way you float between them like you’re the glue holding everyone together does something to his heart.

Rafe leans back, his arm draped loosely around your waist as you chat with Kie and JJ, laughing at some dumb story JJ’s telling about getting caught sneaking into class late one too many times. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. The nights you spent bailing JJ out when his dad got too wasted and violent. How you’d sneak him into your place, covering up the bruises and making sure he had somewhere to crash for the night.

“Hey,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “You okay? You’re staring again.”

Rafe blinks, realizing he’s been zoning out, watching you again. “Yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “Just thinking.”

You tilt your head, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “About?”

“How much I love you.”

JJ gags, “Shut the fuck up.”

Kie slaps him in the back, “Shut up, it’s cute.”

Rafe lets out a low chuckle, glancing over at JJ. "Jealous, Maybank?"

JJ takes a long swig of his beer, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. I’m not jealous of your sappy shit.”

“Sure you’re not,” He drawls, leaning back with a smirk. “Not like you’ve been drooling over Kie all year or anythin’.”

Kie’s eyes widen, her face flushing just enough to make it obvious, “What the hell are you talking about?” She shoots Rafe a glare, but there’s no real venom behind it.

His grin only widens. “Oh, come on. You think I haven’t noticed? You two have been dancing around each other for what, months now?”

JJ chokes on his beer, coughing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not—”

But Rafe’s not letting up. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Dude, just admit it. You’ve been into her forever, and honestly, we’re all sick of watching you act like you don’t.”

Kie crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You’re sick of it?”

“Yeah,” Rafe deadpans, “Everyone knows. Hell, even John B probably knows, and that guy’s oblivious to everything except Sarah.”

JJ groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re seriously gonna make this about me?”

“Yep,” Rafe grins, “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”

He knows Rafe’s just messing with him. He’s been down bad for Kie for as long as he can remember, but every time he gets close, something stops him. The friendship, the fear of messing it up, maybe just the fact that he doesn’t think he deserves her. Rafe’s seen it all before.

Kie, for her part, just rolls her eyes. “Boys are so fucking dumb.”

You laugh, nudging Rafe in the ribs. “Stop torturing him. It’s his big day.”

Rafe huffs, a smirk still playing on his lips. “I’m just saying, if I had to deal with all the crap about you and me, it’s only fair he gets his turn.”

“Yeah, well, maybe JJ needs a little push,” you glance between the two of them. “You gonna make a move, Maybank? Or you planning on dragging this out for another year?”

JJ looks at you, then at Kie, then back at Rafe, who’s clearly enjoying every second of this. “You guys suck,” he mutters, grabbing another beer and stalking off toward the keg, leaving Kie standing there, cheeks still a little red, though she’s doing her best to look unbothered.

Rafe watches him go, then turns back to Kie. “He’s a mess, but you already know that.”

Kie sighs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I do.” Her voice softens,“But he’s my mess, I guess.”

You smile, giving Kie a knowing look. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Kie glares at you playfully, but there’s no hiding the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, shut up.”

[inheritedbelly]

Heavy Lifting

I start the day excited about the new job. It's not what I dreamed of, of course, but it's a start, a way to gain experience and, maybe, distract myself from the mess my life has become. I work in the warehouse of a factory. I'm an apprentice to Mr. Fred, a big, sweaty 60-year-old man. When I arrived, he was leaning against a pile of boxes, breathing slowly, the weight of his enormous belly rising and falling. He has a deep, thick voice that seems to resonate in his chest, but what stands out the most is his size. I'm not talking about his height, but his width. The guy is huge, almost as if life had shaped him around a giant belly. When he laughs, it feels like his whole body shakes. I can't imagine being in his skin, it must be uncomfortable and gross, but aside from that, he's a nice guy.

The work is exhausting. We carry and move boxes, organize shelves. Things are always missing, and we're the ones responsible for keeping everything in order. I just wish my life was like that—organized. At the end of the day, after lifting heavy things all day, Fred suggests we sit down and talk for a bit. Sitting across from him, I start to open up. I don’t know why, but the words come out before I can hold them back. I talk about my issues with my dad, how I don’t have a mom, and how the pressure to choose a college is suffocating me. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, I just wish I could skip this phase, wake up one day and have everything figured out. Fred listens attentively, his gaze heavy, almost as if he’s absorbing everything I’m saying. He nods slowly, and after a pause, he laughs, slapping his large belly. "Funny," he says. "I wish for the opposite. I wish I could be young again. Skinny. Do everything over, make different choices." His laughter fades, and he looks at the floor for a moment. Then, he looks at me with a strange gleam in his eyes. "You know what, kid? I think I know how to solve our problem." He snaps his fingers, and before I can respond, my vision goes black.

When I wake up, the first thing I feel is a strange coldness on my head. I reach up to the top of my head and… nothing. I'm bald. My heart races, and I look down, terrified. I see a huge belly, a round sphere dominating my field of vision, as if it’s an extension of me, but… it can’t be. The striped shirt covering this body isn’t mine. I try to get up from the armchair I’m sitting in, but everything feels different. Heavy. I grab the belly, this mass of flabby flesh that seems to be part of me now, and I look at my hands. They’re large, wrinkled, covered in saggy skin. It’s like I’m wearing gloves of flesh. I feel panic rising, and I let out a scream, but the sound that comes out of my throat isn’t mine. It’s hoarse, old. I bring my hand to my neck and feel a double chin. Horror overwhelms me, and I fall forward, my body too heavy to keep balance.

I lift my head, struggling, and I see my old body standing there, smiling at me with a malicious look. Everything clicks in an instant. I’ve switched bodies with Fred.

"What the hell did you do?" I shout, my voice now rougher than ever. Fred, in my body, lets out a short, mocking laugh. "Relax, kid. It was just a spell. A solution to our little problem."

I panic. "Undo it! I want my life back! My youth!" But he just shakes his head, still laughing. "You can’t. The spell can only be done once. Now it’s permanent."

My heart, or what was left of it in that old body, starts pounding out of control. I stumble backward, trying to process this new reality. I feel the belly wobbling with every step I take, like an anchor dragging me down. This can’t be true. This can’t be happening.

I run, or at least I try to, to the office bathroom. I lock the door behind me and look in the mirror. The reflection shows me an old, sweaty man with a desperate expression on his face. The face isn’t mine. The skin is full of wrinkles, the cheeks sagging. I run my hand over my face, unable to believe what I see. I can’t stop holding my belly. It’s always there, like a constant reminder that I’m now someone else. Fred knocks on the door, and I hear his voice—my voice from before. “Hey, it’s not going to be that bad, let’s be honest. Now you have what you wanted, and I have what I wanted.” I scream in response, but the truth is that I’m trapped. There’s no going back. Fred then enters and gives a light squeeze to my enormous stomach. I yell at him to leave, and then he steps back. He closes the bathroom door, and I, still in shock and confused about what happened, am left unsure of what to do. I lift my shirt and see: a big belly, covered in hair. I also notice that my chest, which was normal before, is now larger and sagging. With every step I take, I feel my body moving in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s uncomfortable and strange. I turn around and notice that my backside has also changed; it’s now much bigger. I look in the mirror, trying to understand what has happened. The person in the reflection doesn’t seem like me, but the way the body moves makes it clear that, unfortunately, it is mine now.

I leave the bathroom and find Fred, who is now in my body. He smiles and makes an ironic comment, asking if I’m ready. I quickly pull down my shirt and, unsure of what to do, ask, “So now what are we going to do?”

When I leave the bathroom, Fred tells me I can go to his place, which is now my home. I have no choice. Walking through the streets is hell. Every step is a huge effort. I feel sweat dripping down my body, especially between the folds of my belly and on my back. And it’s just a short walk. Upon arriving at the apartment, Fred shows me everything—where the things are, the bathroom, the pantry. During this little tour, I’m extremely out of breath from the walk. My belly bumps into everything around the house. He tells me about his routine. Now, it’s my routine. Because of the heat, I take off my clothes, and my now free belly is enormous. As I squeeze through the house, my stomach occasionally bumps into Fred, who is in my way. “Sorry,” I say, even though I’m not the one to blame for this situation; he is! He’s the one who stuck me in this huge body, but honestly, I’m too out of breath for another argument. As soon as he leaves me alone in my new room, he says, “See you tomorrow, boss,” winking before closing the door. I get ready to take a shower, which is at least strange since I’ve never had to bathe a fat old man before, let alone be the old man myself. I feel the loose skin and the weight of the fat on me. Lying down on the bed is even worse; as soon as I collapse onto the bed, my huge new belly settles against my body in an uncomfortable way, and I have to turn over, quickly causing it to fall to my side. I let out a heavy sigh. “What was I wishing for?”

Lying on the bed, with not many options for comfort, I close my eyes, trying to believe that everything was just a nightmare and that tomorrow everything will be back to normal. But it’s hard to believe that it was just a dream, considering how real everything felt. Even lying there, I had a lot of physical contact with every part of my body, since I was now bulkier. I couldn’t just run my hand over my body without my hairy arm brushing against my hairy stomach. So, I would turn to the side, still thinking my slim body would react. But instead, I felt the weight of my new body. My brain was still that of a slim man.

I would run my hand over my forehead and remember the baldness. I would touch my face and feel the old beard. I would glide my hands over my body and notice my new bulk. It was this repetitive cycle until I finally managed to fall asleep. The next morning, when I wake up, I feel an erection, but not like it always used to be, my dick was fighting against my stomach. in a fright I quickly wake up and my eyes meet see my big stomach and the white hairs on my chest. I quickly get a shock, and suddenly everything hits me: nothing was a dream, everything was real, and this is my new lif

[kamiiri]

“Hey, don’t cry. You’re gonna mess up your cool eyeliner,” Ripp said.

Ophelia laughed and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Ripp continued. “For a second I thought I hallucinated you. I’m still considering the possibility.”

Ophelia smiled at him and replied, “No, it’s me. It’s really me.”

“Dude, where the hell have you been?! I was crazy-worried about you.”

“Things got bad at home with Olive. Like, really bad. Like, I’m-gonna-die bad. I’m so sorry, Ripp. I had to disappear,” she explained.

“As bad as it sounds, I’m relieved to hear that. I was scared that maybe they got you too.”

“What? Who?”

“Division 47. You know, the military. For being involved with Johnny or something. Kinda like what happened to Jenny?”

“What?”

Ripp squinted his eyes at her, realizing that the two of them had a lot of catching up to do. “Hm…yeah. I guess all of that happened after you went poof.”

“What are you talking about? Ripp, do you know where Johnny is?” Ophelia asked.

“All right, O. We should sit down.”

[tarotwithavi]

Stop making excuses

Every day, many of us dream big. We think about the things we want to achieve like getting a good job, becoming healthy, starting a business, or learning a new skill. But often, these dreams remain just that , dreams. Why? Because we make excuses. We tell ourselves, "I'm too tired," "I don't have enough time," "I'm not good enough," or "It's too hard." These excuses become walls that stop us from moving forward. But the truth is, we are capable of so much more than we think. We can do anything and everything if we stop making excuses and start believing in ourselves.

The world is full of people who faced challenges but still did amazing things. They weren’t different from us. They didn’t have extra hours in a day or superpowers. What they did have was determination. They chose to see obstacles as opportunities, not excuses. When life got tough, they didn’t give up; they pushed harder. They knew that doing their best was the only way to reach their goals.

When we make excuses, we limit ourselves. It’s like tying our own hands behind our backs. Imagine wanting to run a marathon but never training because you keep telling yourself, “I’m not a runner.” How will you ever know your true potential if you don’t try? The same applies to every area of life. Whether it's learning something new, starting a project, or making a change, the first step is to stop the excuses and start taking action.

Excuses are comforting because they keep us in our comfort zones. But remember, nothing great ever happens in the comfort zone. Growth happens when we step out of it, face our fears, and challenge ourselves. Yes, it might be scary, and yes, we might fail. But every failure is a lesson. Every setback is a chance to come back stronger.

So, next time you catch yourself making an excuse, pause and ask: “What if I tried instead?” Replace “I can’t” with “I can” and “It’s too hard” with “I’ll try my best.” You will find that your mindset changes, and with it, your actions. Instead of avoiding challenges, you’ll start seeking them. Instead of saying, “I don’t have time,” you’ll make time.

Believe in yourself and your abilities. You have the power to do anything and everything. Your only limit is the one you set for yourself. Stop making excuses and start doing your best today. The world is waiting for you to show what you can achieve. Remember, the journey to greatness begins with a single step and that step is choosing not to make excuses.

[humanitys-strongest-brat]

Kintsugi - ch. 2

Pairing: Coach!Levi x Injured fem!Reader

CW: major themes of injury, depression, and hopelessness. 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: Reviewed and edited by the lovely @i-lev-you whom I am endlessly grateful for~

previous chapter

Heat radiates up from the pan over your wrist as you cook your breakfast, stirring mindlessly as you lose yourself in thought. The rattle of your phone against the counter interrupts you. Turning the stove on low you flip your phone over from its downward position to see Levi’s contact illuminating the screen. Immediately your chest tightens up. It’s only been two days since you last spoke to him. You let it ring for a few seconds before slowly sliding your thumb across the screen to answer. 

“Hello?” You hold your breath, hoping he doesn’t notice. 

“Morning,” Levi starts, his tone causing your nerves to fray more than they already were. “I reviewed everything you sent over and drew up a recovery plan. If possible, I’d like to go over it in person.” It’s still overwhelming to know just who it is you’re talking to.

“Okay sure.. When?” You ask. 

“Today?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Moving things along this quickly isn’t exactly what you expected to happen. “Yeah, I can make it in today.” You confirm. 

“Eleven work for you?” He asks. 

You glance over at the clock on the stove, seeing you had more than enough time to get ready “Perfect.” 

“Alright. Sina training center, left wing. My office is on the second floor. I’ll text you the address. See you then.” He hangs up and seconds later your phone buzzes with the address as promised. 

***

Sina Training Center is on the opposite side of town from the arena you trained at for Worlds. Having lived in this city for less than a year you’ve only ever seen it in passing. When you finally find a place to park it’s quite the walk before you make it inside, and when you do you’re shocked by the size of this place. It’s a huge lobby, different areas lead you to sport specific sections of the building. 

You head left and follow the signs that direct you towards the ice sports wing. On your way to the elevator you pass by the large window. Ice is on full display through this window, causing your stomach to tighten. You stop and observe as three girls train with their respective coaches on the ice. An ache grows in your chest as you watch them. 

When you step off the elevator onto the second floor and make your way into the waiting room, there’s a man standing in front of the door that leads to the offices looking down at an iPad. You walk up with the intention of politely getting past him, but when he looks up to face you your heart stops.

That scar is unmistakable. A clean cut that trailed from above his eyebrow all the way down through his lip. Small dots on either side from the stitches even after all this time, and a white glaze over his right eye. Even so, the man in front of you was breathtaking. It was definitely him. 

“Wouldn’t have made it very far,” he breaks the silence causing you to snap out of it, and you definitely feel like an ass for staring. 

“I’m sorry?” 

He quickly shifts to the left of the door revealing a key card scanner, “and I never mentioned which office was mine.” He sounds just like he did on the phone, so.. abstruse? If this wasn’t a professional setting you’d believe he already hated you.

 “Levi.” He states, extending his hand out for you to shake. You can’t help but stare. You’re standing in front of one of the most unrivaled skaters, even the accident couldn’t take that title from him. 

“Nice to meet you.” You finally muster up. He’s silent for a moment, seemingly observing you.  

“Likewise.” He finally says before looking back down and wrapping up whatever it was he was doing on the iPad. He holds it at his hip and digs through his pocket, pulling out a blue lanyard with the training center's logo lined across it, at the end hangs a small white card. “This is yours.” He says. You grab it from him and take a look. It’s a key card with a barcode and your name printed on it. “This will get you into any area designated for skaters, and past this door to my office.” You swear you can hear his voice lift at the second half of that sentence. “Follow me.” You nod as he leads you back into the elevator. Once you’re on the main floor again he points to the rink you passed on your way in. 

“That's the common rink, used for general training and classes.” He explains, leading you in the opposite direction down the hall and stopping at a pair of double doors. He presses his key card against the reader on the wall and quickly walks in as they open. When you follow in behind him, you’re stunned to see another large common area lined with equipment shops and a small snack bar section. To the right are two more ice rinks, one immediately to the right of the door you came in and the other’s entrance on the far wall straight across. “Those are the specialty rinks, I call them the rehab rinks.'' He starts, heading in that direction. “They both serve the same purpose though, one is generally used for the hockey team to train off-season. Eventually, we’ll be over there in the third one.” He gestures for you to follow him inside, scanning his card at the entrance. Your breathing nearly seizes. This is the closest you’ve been to the ice since February. 

“It’s our smallest rink. Reserved specifically for those recovering from injury who need a less congested area to work in.” He walks the edge of the boards with you in tow, eyes glued to the ice the entire time. “Locker rooms.” He says. You almost ran straight into him not noticing he had stopped to point them out. 

Circling back and crossing the large common area with you, he scans his key again. “This is the gym, and past that door is the PT area.” he points past another set of locker rooms. You’re already so overwhelmed, even for you this entire building was so high profile. You felt out of place. “For the next few weeks, we’ll be spending most of our time here.” 

You're so sick of physical therapy and just want to be back on the ice already.

As the two of you walk back out towards the elevators to get to his office, he looks over to you. “Do not use any facility without me there with you for now.” He says, and you can tell he’s serious.

***

Levi pulls a folder from his desk as you sit across from him. “Your current recovery plan is nauseating.” He says bluntly, dropping the folder onto the desk. 

You’re stunned by the quick change in his tone. “Excuse me?” 

“First of all, they set you up for failure before you even left the hospital.” He starts, pulling out printed copies of everything you sent over from the folder. “Ice? Really? Are we still living in the stone ages?” He scoffs “You should have been doing small movements for that ankle since day one, and I don’t see any recommendations here for that.” 

“There wasn’t..” You confirm, eyes so wide they could fall out of your skull. It was hard to believe how involved with your recovery he was, not expecting him to review your progress from day one. You figured he would just pick up along with where you already were. 

“Of course, and you weren’t referred to the proper resources. Standard physical therapy would never have gotten you back on that ice. It’s up to you but I think you’d do better full time here.” He says, shaking his head. “Christ, did your coach do literally anything for you?” 

You wince at the mention of Coach Tarasov, having ghosted her after she drove you home from the hospital. You haven’t reached out since, positive it’s too late now. Getting a new coach was just another thing you’d have to do to get yourself back up. “I didn’t really give her the chance to..” 

Levi hummed in response. “You moved on from basic balance too fast, that’s why you’re struggling so badly now. Balance is the most important part of this, you’re a figure skater. We’ll start our assessments there.” 

“I don’t have the time to start over.” You reply immediately. 

“Do you think you’ll have time when this happens again because you re-injured yourself?” He asks flatly and the question sinks deep. “You won’t, and we’re not starting over. I’m assessing where we are now.” 

We. 

“Okay.. you’re right.” You exhale and let yourself lean back into the chair. 

“I know I am.” He pulls all of the pages back together and slips them back inside your folder. “Three days a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, seven to eight?” He asks as if it were a question. 

“Yes, that works.” You affirm. This was your only option and you had a feeling he knew that too.

He nods and pulls another packet out, sliding it towards you. “Review and sign these.” He says. Flipping through it you recognise it’s the plan he just went over with you, and you sign when prompted. He reaches his hand beside his computer and slides you another white card. “For the parking garage.” 

*** 

The next day you park in the garage and it’s a much easier walk inside, considering it happens to be attached to the skating wing of the training center. You scan your way in and head through the gym, and into the physical therapy room once you throw your stuff into a locker. 

When you walk into the room you see Levi talking to what you assume to be another employee. He’s tall, muscular, blond. It looks like he’s actually enjoying their conversation. The discussion seems to stop when Levi’s eyes find you, and he gestures for you to follow him. Racing to catch up with him, you see the man eye the both of you before turning to leave. 

“Who's that?” Curiosity gets the best of you. 

“Erwin, he’s a personal trainer in another wing.” Levi responds without delay. “Sometimes comes and bothers me between appointments.” As harsh as that sounded, you could tell it came from a place of adoration.

Levi has you sit down after taking your shoes off. You’ve been here before, it’s the same place you got assessments done the first time. You watch as he kneels down and sets the tablet beside him on the mat, gently pressing his thumbs into the front of your ankle and asking you to move your foot in several directions. He feels like a different person in this room than he was in the office or on the phone. He’s gentle and precise, jotting down notes in between every test he does, and making sure you’re comfortable. He's way more involved than your last therapist and you haven’t even gotten past the assessment. 

“Let’s try something.” Getting back onto his feet, he walks across the room and grabs an object from the ground. You immediately recognize it as a balance board. It’s a flat square board with a rounded bottom. He places it down on the floor and gestures you over. “Go ahead and step up here.” He reaches his hand out for you to grab. You nervously place your hand in his and step onto the board with your left foot, relying on Levi to support you while you find your balance. 

“Great.” He encourages, his tone setting off tiny flutters in your stomach as you attempt to balance yourself. He takes a small step back, seamlessly supporting the weight you’re pushing onto his hand. “I’m going to let go, see how you do here.” He says and waits for you to center yourself before slowly pulling away. He continues to hold his hands out in front of you, palms facing up so you can hover yours above incase you need help with balancing. 

Immediately after he retracts his hand your ankle shakes, a reminder of just how far behind you are. A few seconds later discomfort takes over, sending a sting up the inside of your leg. You let your fingertips fall onto his, your eye twitches as you try to avoid relying on him for balance. 

“How does that feel?” 

“It kind of hurts.”

“Stop.” He grabs your hand and helps you back down off the board. “Then we aren’t there yet.” He comments, jotting the notes down quickly. 

You let out a sigh, this is what you meant when you said you couldn’t afford to start over. “I should be on the board by now.” You think out loud. 

“Not if it hurts.” He quips, letting the iPad rest against his hip from the strap hanging off his shoulder. “If you can’t balance on that board you won’t be able to balance on a blade.” 

“I’ve been in therapy for weeks,” your thoughts quickly spiral, having the determination to recover means nothing if your body works so hard against you. “If I can’t get back on the ice by-“ 

“I’ll get you back on the ice.” 

Your thoughts lapse. The way he said it with such certainty makes you want to believe him that much more. 

“Look, I told you your last program was shit,” he sounds like he’s trying to be comforting “it’s not going to happen overnight, and definitely not with that attitude.” 

You don’t know how to respond to that. You know he’s right. Again. 

Levi leads you to the center of the room for mobility stretches, another exercise you’re more than familiar with. He watches as you shift your weight onto your right leg and tip your left foot outward, it doesn’t hurt but the pull is uncomfortable. You inhale harshly through your nose, pushing further against the strain. 

“Don’t force it.” Levi instructs, keeping a close eye on your form. 

You switch from stretching to the side to stretching your ankle forward. After going back and forth between the two for about 5 minutes Levi stops you again, moving on to the stationary board for heel lifts. You step up and let your heels hang off the back of the board, every raise has your ankle shaking. You watch Levi in the mirror in front of you, he has a peculiar look on his face. He slowly kneels down behind you to watch closely as you continue to rise up and down on the board. 

“Stop, get down.” Levi says firmly.

You oblige, immediately stepping back down onto the padded floor. Levi picks up the tablet and starts quickly swiping across the screen, eyebrows raised and lips pressed in a flat line. 

“Your old therapist,” he starts, still quickly filing through pages on the iPad, “did they massage that ankle.” 

“No.” You confirm his suspicions. 

“‘Course they didn’t.” He mumbles, rolling his eyes as he lets the iPad fall back down against his side. “It’s stiff.” He’s already walking back toward the tables.

You follow behind him nervously, sitting up on the table when prompted. You watch as he methodically washes his hands in a nearby sink. When he comes back he tells you to lay back. He stands at the end of the table, gently bending your foot toward him. You chew the inside of your lip as he slips his hand under your heel, pressing his thumb gently behind your ankle bone and guiding the pressure up. Your breath catches at the slight discomfort but it's slowly replaced by a sense of relief. He continues in that same upward direction, adding a gentle circular motion after a few moments. You turn your head away, fidgeting with your shirt as your heart rate seems to accelerate. 

You aren't sure what it is about him. From the moment you knew you’d be working with him it’s all you could think about. At first you chalked it up to admiration. Maybe it was the way he cared, even underneath all the dry conversation and formalities you could tell. Or maybe it’s the way he carries himself. Could be that he’s stunning, like a sunset that perfectly contrasts a clear blue sky. Even now, when he's right in front of you he takes up your mind. Just when you entertain it, imagine his hand sliding up your leg–

“Let’s try again.” His voice startles you out of your thoughts. 

You stand back on the board and Levi kneels down again. You lift up once more and your eyes widen slightly. Not only has the discomfort decreased but your ankle doesn’t shake as bad. It’s not perfect, you still feel the tightness and resistance. That last thing you expected was to make progress during your first session with him. You snap your attention to him, back on the tablet adding data. The corner of his lip upturned in a subtle smirk like he just found the last missing piece of an unfinished puzzle. 

“It was healing stiff.” He comments, switching you to another exercise. “You’re lucky we caught it when we did.” 

“It’s reversible?” You ask, but it comes out as more of a plea. 

“It is.” he confirms. You leave the session that day with a detailed print out of exercises from Levi, instructed to do them in the afternoon of your session days and twice a day otherwise. 

That night as you do them, his voice echoes in your thoughts 

I’ll get you back on the ice.

***

From that point on, your sessions start with a fifteen minute meticulous ankle massage. By the end of the first two weeks you can hold your balance on one foot for thirty seconds with minimal shaking.

Throughout your third week you make miraculous progress. You’re up to forty five seconds of balance on one foot, and painless single heel lifts off the floor and the stationary balance board. 

The last 10 minutes of your Friday session Levi has you balance on one foot and places a tennis ball down directly in front of you. 

“Pick it up.” 

You nod, extending your leg behind you as you slowly bend your knee. Once you have the ball in your hand you slowly rise back up, placing it back in Levi’s hand. He shifts over, setting the ball down to your right. Again, you lower yourself down and back up on one foot with ease. One last time he sets the ball down to your left. When you drop it back in his hand you bring your elevated foot back down to stay stable. He lets out a satisfied huff and walks away, returning with the balance board from a few weeks back and drops it down. He helps you up and this time you pull away from him, quick to neutralize your weight. You make it look easy now.

“Not bad.” His tone sounds indifferent but he has that same look in his eyes, he has it every time you hit a milestone. 

Like every win is yours to share.

On your way out, Levi stops to face you. He opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it again, seeming to second guess himself. “See you next week.” 

Taglist: @amywritesthings @littlerequiem @humanitys-strongest-bamf @hideandgopeep 

@thechaoticarchivist @sixpennydame 

[devil-in-hiding]

estranged childhood best friend Simon said he’d always be there if you truly needed him. And he meant it. As he got older though, and he became more dangerous, and more of a target, he knew for your sake that he had to cut ties.

Simon Riley died, all that was left was Ghost. And so of course he did to you what his name would suggest, he ghosts you. He cuts off all contact, he makes a vow to himself that he’ll never speak to you again, you’ll never see him again, and hopefully you’ll forget about him.

But you don’t. He never gave you a reason for his absence, and you assume the worst. You’re left believing that he KIA, that he’s gone for good. Simon loves you, he’d never cut you off. You still text him, every single day and night.

He didn’t block your number, he just never answers you. When Simon died and Ghost clawed his way out of the ashes, he got rid of everything from his old life he could. Except for one old, cracked phone. The only number left on it is yours. Even years after you assume he’s dead you keep texting him. You say good morning and good night everyday without fail, you tell him everything that happens in your life, even the smallest details. And he reads all the texts. He wants so badly to type back, to respond, but he just can’t do it. He knows he’s a dangerous man, a bad person, and you deserve better than him.

You could never move on. You could never make new friends, and you could never open yourself up to dating. Without Simon you have nothing left. Your life starts to fall apart, slowly but surely. Ghost has to watch in horror and dismay as the things you text him about shift from everyday life, to the horrible things that’s happening. When you text him about the dangerous people you owe money to though, telling him you’re going to see him soon, it’s the last straw.

“I’ll always be there, if ya really need it luv.”

well, you really need it. You need him. He didn’t want it to come to this but he knew if he didn’t help you now it would be too late. He thought he was helping you by cutting you off, but instead he may have gotten you killed.

He rushes to you, praying to a god he long since thought abandoned him. When gets to your house there’s black vans cars lined outside, the door left ajar. All sane thoughts have left his head, he just knows that you’re inside, with dangerous people, and he has to get there. And just like when he’s on the battlefield, a sense of clarity washes through him. As he makes his way through the house, slaughtering the people in his path, the people who want to hurt you, he doesn’t give them a second thought. When he finds you in the kitchen, tears staining your cheeks and blood splattered on your shirt as you lay terrified on the floor, he falls to his knees before you. He caresses your cheek softly, not caring about the blood soaking his hands.

“please… don’t hurt me.” You whimper softly, and he can’t help but laugh softly as he takes off the mask.

“I’d never hurt you luv. S’okay.” You whispers, watching the realization flash before your eyes.

“Si- Simon?” You ask, sitting up to get a better look at him. His face may be disfigured with all the scars, but you can tell it’s him.

“Not anymore.”

-🫧

i am so in love with you and your brain

you have no idea what your thoughts do to me

like

you are a work of art to me

[romana-after-dark]

Be Quiet: 3

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

My god this header is ass but I was an emo kid what can I say

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

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Chapter summary: Past. You open up to Logan. Present. Logan opens up to you

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

2.8 words

Before

Logan had tried to do as Charles requested. Tried. Honestly, he had but the place wasn’t THAT fucking big, and he kept running into you during all the times it was least oppretune, all the times he was aching for touch and tenderness as the soft skin only you could provide.

And he missed you. That little trip to the store had sent something burning in his, a spark of joy that ignited in his body that maybe this time, you would be different, everything could be different. You were fun, gentle, kind and soft and passive… He thought of how you were so scared of the man, he felt your fear drumming in your heart and at the moment all that mattered was protecting you. Still, you didn’t want him to hurt the man. Empathetic little thing.

Glancing up to find your eyes on him at diner hurt so much he tried to keep his eyes trained on the food at all times. He tried not leave his room for fear of running into you in the hall. Hell, sometimes he didn’t even want to be in the house because he could fucking smell you. He could smell when you were ovulating and on your period, in tune to everything you did despite trying to avoid you, leaving him him alone in his room to fuck his fist day after day, hour after hour humping a pillow because he couldn’t control himself like a horny teenager.

And Remy was no fucking help.

“Logan!” He called from down the hall. “I need a favor.”

He rolled his eyes. “Awful lot of favors with you, huh?”

Remy LeBeau laughed as if it was a joke. It wasn’t, Remy’s ‘favor’ had landed him in this predicament in the first place.

“I am supposed to eat lunch with notre ami,” he says with a smirk that makes Logan assume he’s not talking about Jean or Emma or Ellie. “But I’m afraid I’ve been called in another direction.”

“Is the other direction some girl’s pussy?”

A glint in his eyes. “Some man’s pussy, to be specific, cher, but a gentleman never tells. Anyway, I need you to let her know I can’t make it, send my apologies.” Remy already started walking away. 

Logan half shouts down the hall. “What, are you two going on dates now?”

“What’s it to you?”

Logan was fuming, absolutely livid. You and Remy? Fuck no. Not a chance in the world. Well sure, it would make sense. Remy was soft, kind, funny. He knew how to romance a girl. Or a guy. Or whatever it was he was sticking his dick into. He could wine and dine and woo his way into those little dresses with the right words, the right touches… He could be friendly, nice… but Remy LeBeau is not the kind of man to settle down. He’s a slut. You? You are a romantic, he could tell. Young and innocent and still believing in true love and Remy was the kind of guy to make you fall for it. Not intentionally…. Probably… but Remy didn’t understand you. Not like Logan did.

So, despite not telling Remy he would deliver the message, he went to find your classroom anyway.

*

It was early in the semester still, but fall was beginning to creep in on the New England days. Still, it was lovely out and the smell of oak made you happy, so you cracked a window. Air was good for the kids. 

You had an upper level class, literature, and were just finishing the discussion of The Count of Monte Christo. 

When you hear the door open, you expected Remy but instead saw Logan. This surprised you, considering how obvious it was he had been avoiding you, you give him a warm smile and turn back to your class who were just beginning a brand new discussion.

“But I don’t think he’s motivated by revenge, he’s motivated by love!” A young girl argues with her classmate.

“He killed people, Jess.”

You clapped your hands together, “Guys I’m so sorry but that’s our time! As much as I’m sure you’d rather skip lunch and discuss Dante’s true motivation,  I have to let you go. Come prepared to pick this right up tomorrow!” You said, thrilled this has gone so well. 

Students grab their things and file out, several saying good day and several more staring at Logan as they passed. Logan glared at one particularly bug eyed boy.

“Logan.” You call his attention from the kid, and as Logan steps to your desk the door shuts behind you. You gesture to a chair near the front of the class. “Forgive me, but my feet hurt from standing. Is it alright if I eat?”

“Of course.” He hurries to answer, scrambling around the desk to pull out your chair. He’d be damned if he was outdone by Remy. His movements were awkward and clunky. Logan wasn’t an animal, he was raised to be a proper high society man, and even though he left home young, he lived during much more… polite eras than now. While he preferred to live more rustic, he knew how to be a gentleman.

You smile up at him from the chair, thanking him quietly. Logan pulls up a chair to the front, sitting with you. 

“Remy ain’t coming.” He blurts out, ready to break the news of the date as bluntly as possible to make him look worse, but when he saw the worry on your face he read your mind. “He had to go take care of business, he’s fine though.” Watching the relief on your face made him annoyingly jealous. “Sorry he had to miss your uh…” Logan glanced around the room. “Date, I guess.”

He likes hearing you giggle, even if he thinks it might be at him. “Did he call it a date?”

“Well… no…” Why did he feel so flustered with you?

“Good. It’s hardly a date. I have higher standards than sharing a sandwich in my classroom.” Despite his protests, you lay half your sandwich on his side of the desk. He couldn't say no to you. “Remy eats lunch with me sometimes, keeps me company. As a friend, if you were wondering.”

He was.

There was a comfortable silence as Logan ate the sandwich you gave me, doing everything he could to not hum as he delighted in it. How did you make a simple caprese sandwich taste so good? How did he get roped into sharing a meal with you when he was supposed to keep his distance?

“You’re good with them.” He mumbles with his mouth half full. When you look up with confusion he elaborates. “The kids, I mean. They like you. I can see it, and I’ve heard others talking.”

This makes you blush, looking away as you deflect the compliment. “Thank you, it’s probably the only thing I’m qualified to do.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Were you a teacher before you came here?”

“I wasn’t anything before I came here.”

Logan gestured for you to continue, so you set  down your sandwich and cleared your throat, still looking down. “I’m not really qualified to be here, honestly… It’s not like a secret or anything but… it’s not exactly something I’m shouting from the rooftops so… I mean you don’t gotta lie or anything…”

“I won’t say anything” His voice was soft, comforting. He made you trust him, so you let it all out.

“I didn’t graduate high school.” You fidget with the hem of the flower print dress that went past your knees. “I got married at 16.” When you glance up, you’re expecting to see his weirded out, uncomfortable, or maybe even disgust at you. Instead he looked concerned. 

“Jesus, doll. How the hell was that legal?”

You explain. “With parental consent and judicial approval, you can get married pretty young. My parents knew the judge.”

“And your parents were okay with this?”

Logan wasn’t stupid, he’s 200 years old and has seen plenty of teenagers getting married, but it wasn’t as common as you might think. By the time he was coming of age, marriage age, even for women, was going up. Teenagers were teenagers, he supposed.

“It was their idea… he was um… he was 20.” 

The realization dawned on him. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

You give a little shrug and go back to eating. “It was pretty normal in my circles. I didn’t realize how weird it was until I was 18 or 19 or something when the doctors- well, yeah.”

Curiosity crested on the topic of doctors, but Logan knew better than to push too hard. “And what are ‘your circles.’”

A little smile quips up on your lip and Logan notices a seed from the whole grain bread on the bottom lip. He wanted to kiss it off.

“Ever watch 19 kids and counting?”

Logan nearly cocked on a tomato. “What?”

You smirk at his reaction. “Yeah. We were IBLP, fundies I guess people say. I got 11 siblings, wore jean skirts, homeschooled, all that. I even met a Duggar once at a conference. Not the creep one. I don’t think.”

Your blase nature around your strange childhood was a defense. Every day you learned new things that you grew up in that weren’t normal, Remy and you spending hours walking the grounds, just talking. He is shocked you never watched spongebob, you are shocked he was allowed outside after dark. Both of you had a bond over failed arranged marriages and childhood abuse, but he was further along in the deconstruction path.

Nodding along, Logan tries not to freak out. Part of him wants to run away from this conversation. He doesn’t want you to open up, he doesn't want to feel pity or sympathy or learn anything that might endear you to him even more. Part of him wanted to rip out your family and your husbands throats.

“I assume that means you didn’t graduate?”

“Not even close. Homeschool was a loose term, honestly. My parents believed women didn’t need math or science, not that they believed in science, but they encouraged my read thank goodness. I spent a lot of time reading and writing, studying that stuff since we didn’t have a TV. When I say Mr. Xavier took in a stray, I meant it. I’d have absolutely no options, no social security card, no birth certificate, even. Not even McDonalds would have taken me.”

Logan frowned at that, popping the last bite into him mouth. “Why not?”

Despite it all, you laugh still. “I didn’t know that was a thing until I wondered into a Walmart asking for a job and they laughed in my face. Mr. Xavier explained all that. Listen…” You shift in your seat. “I taught all 11 of my siblings English, literature, poetry, reading, writing… I promise you, I might not have gone to college… but I know what I’m doing here.”

He shot you an assuring smile. “I didn’t doubt you for a second, Dolly.”

Logan spent the rest of your lunch break helping you cut out book themed decorations for your classroom. There was so much he wanted to learn, like why you can’t drive, how you left your husband, how you possibly gained the courage to do it knowing nothing of the world and what had happened to you to make you run like that? How brave you must be, for such a small, vulnerable thing, to do that. Logan found he greatly admired you. He had his healing powers, his strenth, speed, his claws to protect him. But you? Just out on your own.

He wouldn’t fuck you. He wouldn’t fall in love. He would do as he promised Charles, he swore it to himself…

But from now on, you didn’t need to be afraid of anything.

Logan would be your claws.

After

You banged on Logan’s door, not caring who heard.

“LOGAN!!!” You shout, continuing to bang even after he opened the door. You didn’t care. Fists pounding on the door turned into fists slamming on his chest. Logan didn’t seem phased, its not like you were strong. Instead, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room before closing the door. You knew you should fear he’d rape you again after what he did but you couldn’t care anymore. 

“Dolly-”

You throw the pregnancy test in his face, dried piss and all. “I hate you! I hate you!” You continue to scream at him and smack at his chest but he lets you. You scream, and scream and his and scream until there is nothing left in you and you fall to your knees crying.

Logan catches you, kneeling down and taking you into his arms and you just let him because fuck, you are so starved for affection, so desperate for touch it doesn’t matter that it came from him. You fit neatly in his lap, his chest warm against your head as he holds you to him.

He smells like oak.

When you calm down, you shove at him again and fall off. 

When he reaches for you, his worry stricken face trying to convince you he was the Logan you knew before, you shout, “No!” Pointing directly at him.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dolly. I am.”

“No, you’re not.” A sniffle alerts you of your runny nose, and you wipe it with your sleeve. “You knew what you were doing! You can’t- you apoligized while raping me, Logan!”

He winces. “Don’t say that…”

“What, rape?” 

That cringe again. “Don’t- don’t call it that!”

You scoff, a sardonic smile playing at your lips. “Oh, I’m sorry, that's upsetting to you? I can’t imagine how that feels, Logan.”

A moment of silence. Then he huffs a small laugh. You hated him, you hated how easy to was to fall back with him, to feel comfortable with him when he did something so horrible to you… and yet when you look at him now, sitting on the floor with the big eyes and little kitty ear hair as you called him, you didn’t see the man that raped you. You just saw Logan.

“I’ll get an abortion.” You say without much conviction.

“No, you won’t” He sounds more convinced than you were. Logan’s eyes were soft, patient, like a parent waiting for his childs fit to end.

You sit back against the wall, exhausted. “Yes, I will!”

He smirks. Is he making fun of you? “No, you will not”

“Or what, you’ll hurt me? You’ll follow me around everywhere?”

Logan chuckles at that. “No. I don’t need to do that. I’m not entirely convinced you would have taken that plan B, honestly.”

“Wha-” 

“How would you get there in the first place? You gonna ask fucking Remy to drive you to the abortion clinic?” He doesn’t give you a chance to answer. You and him both know what it is. Leaning in, Logan rests his elbows on his crossed legs, tight tank top straining against his pecs. “I know you, sweet baby doll. Better than Remy, better than anyone ever could. You may have left that world you lived in, may have left those beliefs and your parents and your husband and your pastor, but it hasn’t even been a year. Some stuff comes easier to digest, like realizing your husband doesn’t have the right to beat you with a switch. Some stuff, like what's going on in your womb… that gets a lot harder to sort through. I know you, and you just don’t have the guts to get an abortion”

You hated him. You hated him because he was right,

“That’s why you chose me, isn’t it.” The tears dripped down again, but softer this time. “Because you knew I wouldn’t.”

“No.” He sounded certain, final, almost deviated like it was important for him to know you understood what he was saying. “Dolly…” Logan leans over getting on his hands and knees. Slowly, he crawls across the floor to you, a cat hunting his prey, shoulder blades moving in time and jutting out of his shirt. His eyes were trained on you.

“I didn’t choose you, baby doll. None of this was my choice. The moment I saw you, every single choice was taken away from me.” He stalks closer, and you press your head against the door as your heart rate picks up again. “You were mine, I was yours, and everything that’s happened since has been fate pulling us together.”

Your lower lip quivers, making you whimper. “I didn’t want…” You almost say you, but can’t bring yourself to it. It wouldn’t be true. “I didn’t want that.”

His face is right up against you now, soft little breaths fanning your cheek and his eyes lidded with lust. “I didn’t want it to happen like that either, dolly.” His lips brush yours. “But I can’t deny fate any more than you can deny me.”

Logan might be a little ooc in this ill be real but shhhhhhhh

Also this is not hidden pro life agenda. I am pro choice.

I was raised Catholic and I remember even though a few years into deconstruction I couldn’t let go on the idea abortion was murder. I was assaulted and thought I was pregnant from it and spent hours sobbing in church because I wasn’t know what to do. Luckily it’s a choice I didn’t have to make in the end but please know whatever choice you made for your body was correct.

Want more yandere delulu logan?

Fan of this and also love joel?

Want soft logan, no dark?

If anyone else writes dark logan and wants to be fwends hmu <3 gotta be lgbt inclusive and general leftist stuff. I'll reblog your stuff!!!!!

Consider donating to doctors without borders to support gaza

If anyone knows more good dark logan writers hmu bc i just dont know anyone else!!!!

I appriciate you all supporting my logan work! keep on send them asks! I hav sunday off so i ll ge more then !

if you dont normally read my stuff, sometimes i do polls at the end of my fics. usually its about the story but i gotta do this for like....... well

I wrote the worng way and spent most of it regretting the name bc i just went with the first thing. Same here. this was initially a one shot! nut i fel the title is too simplistic

love yuh!!!

[bpmiranda]

The Bodyguard IV |l. howlett|

A/N: slow burn, friends to lovers, bodyguard!logan x original character, 21y/o f!character, mentions of organized crime, drug use, suggestive content

Logan knew this was a difficult position for him to be in right now. Inexplicably, he developed some sort of feelings for Mercedes - the last girl in the world he should’ve gotten this close to, but he couldn’t deny it anymore. It was foolish of him to think he could talk himself out of the way he cared for her or trick himself into believing that his feelings were not nearly as intense as they actually were - because things only seemed okay when they were together.

“You goin’ in?” Logan asked as they sat in his car outside of the clinic where she worked. Mercedes had not moved an inch, she sat in the passenger seat anxiously picking at her cuticles in her scrubs and she shook her head. Logan figured something like this would happen, and he wasn’t upset, but relieved.

“I don’t-I can’t do-” Mercedes stammered quietly, eyes glossy as she stared at the clinic apprehensively. “I can’t go in, Logan. I-I’m not ready.”

Logan rested an arm along the back of their seats to look at her, her deep brown eyes locked on his face, and he gave her a small nod. “That’s okay. It’s only been a few days.” Mercedes gave him an appreciative look, but she still seemed shaken and it hurt him that she was this traumatized over something that Emilio and the others had already forgotten about; they replaced Gomez easily, without missing a beat meanwhile his sister was tormenting herself with guilt. “Do you want to grab a coffee?” He asked, his hand coming down to rub her shoulder as she nodded slowly, a tear slipping down her cheek. Logan leaned over and kissed her forehead before he drove away from the clinic.

Mercedes had two things on her mind; the guilt she carried for not having been able to help Gomez, the man that trusted her with his life, and her budding feelings for Logan. Their relationship had always been flirty and lighthearted, but as things were becoming heavier and more intense, he didn’t shy away from her. Logan was all the more present in her life, always prepared to help her out any way he could, even beyond the duties of a bodyguard. Her emotions were fragile and she was incredibly susceptible to affection and attention right now, she knew that, but she had a feeling that Logan wasn’t just being nice. Maybe he’d stop her if they got too close to a line that they shouldn’t cross, she needed him to do it because she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. Logan was the only man she could see herself falling for, and she wouldn’t be reasonable enough right now to see the harm in it.

They were at the beach, parked in the lot where they could overlook the sand and the never ending ocean ahead of them. The sun was beaming brightly, sparkling off the water, there were parents with their children playing in the sand and couples diving into the ocean. They were living their lives as if someone had not died the other night and Mercedes felt sick.

“Here,” Logan pulled a joint out from inside his jacket pocket and she couldn’t help the small laugh that left her mouth as it seemed that he could read her mind. “It’s not as nicely rolled as yours, but it’ll smoke.” He teased as she set the spliff between her lips and he lit it for her.

“Thanks.” She murmured as she let out a deep sigh and tried to ease her frazzled nerves. It was easier when she was with him, she felt safe with him. “Do they ever talk about him?” She asked after a moment and Logan shook his head as he lit a cigar. “They just brought someone in to take his place?”

“That’s usually how it goes, yeah.” He said before exhaling a cloud of smoke that smell of spiced cinnamon and bourbon.

The radio was playing a song that Logan enjoyed and he turned it up a tiny bit while she rolled down her window to let out the smoke. It was silent, but the kind that was comfortable and let her think. Logan never pressured her to talk until she was ready and that was something she had always appreciated. Logan put out his stogie while Bill Withers sang softly in the background and he turned the radio up before looking over at her as quiet tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes glued down on the short joint between her fingers, watching it burn slowly.

It’s not warm when she’s away,

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone,

Logan knew he shouldn’t. In the back of his mind he knew it would lead to something else, but she looked so sad and he had this uncontrollable need to comfort her. It was an ache he felt at his core, he knew that his purpose was to protect her. Mercedes was his to care for, after all.

Wonder this time where she’s gone,

Wonder if she’s gone stay,

Their eyes met, held each other’s longing gaze for a moment before Logan brought her into his side and she sniffed against his chest, crying softly into his shoulder while he cooed gently at her, “I’ve got you, baby doll.” Mercedes nodded, believing him as she nuzzled into him.

And I know, I know, I know

I know, I know, I know

Her arms were wrapped around his waist as she looked up at him with those beautiful, pleading eyes and a pouty lip. Logan let out a small sigh as he caressed her arm gently, his other hand came up to touch her damp cheek. “This okay?” He whispered, searching her face for any sign of uncertainty as she nodded at him.

I know, I know, I know

Hey, I ought to leave young thing alone

One of her hands moved up his chest and she rested it over his heart as they kissed slowly, almost experimentally, giving each other time to pull back. Logan’s heart was beating hard against his ribcage as she seemingly melted into him and sighed against his lips. His hands grabbed onto her waist and she followed his lead as he guided her to straddle him. “Don’t leave me.” She pleaded, tears still rolling slowly down her face as they pulled away to take a breath, their foreheads pressed together.

“I’ve got you.” Logan murmured, kissing her again, addicted to the feeling of her lips. His large hands held her face gently in his palms as she fisted his brown leather jacket. It was a long kiss, far too long for their compromising situation, but all Logan could do was hope no one they knew saw them. There wasn’t a force on this Earth that could stop him from consoling her, kissing her, comforting her the best way he knew how to comfort a woman. His woman.

During the ride home, Mercedes was still sitting beside him. Her head rested on his chest as she had fallen asleep while he kept an arm wrapped around her shoulders and one hand on the wheel.

It just felt right.

They had to keep it a secret. Emilio was clearly not a fanatic about the idea of them together, even before they actually realized themselves that there was indeed something going on between them. They simply couldn’t let him know he was right, he would be all the more furious if he found them out now, he would see them as liars, and consider their relationship a betrayal of his trust. Logan tried not to let his feelings affect his work, but it was difficult when Emilio’s men would flirt with her whenever she would be called in to patch somebody up.

“Que bonita eres.” (You are so pretty.) They would say while Mercedes treated them, and she only offered a kind smile and a mumbled ‘thank you’ as she finished up. Logan’s blood was heated enough to possibly burn someone with a single touch as he stood and listened them run their cheap game on her.

“No te deja el lobo por un segundo, verdad?” (The wolf won’t leave you for a second, right?) They would tease, glancing at Logan as he stood against a wall, supervising their behavior and protecting her. They wanted to upset him, they thought he didn’t understand as much as he did, and it only made his anger towards them grow.

Mercedes would look over at him and he would only smirk a little, knowing that when they said ‘lobo’ they were talking about him and in a way, he enjoyed that they thought they had a chance, enjoyed the fact that she would be leaving with him. “It’s his job, he’s my bodyguard.” She would shrug as she continued her task, smiling to herself because Logan was very protective - incriminatingly so.

“What are you doing later tonight?” They would ask as she was cleaning up and gathering her medical equipment. Before she could even come up with one of her witty responses, Logan had an arm around her waist and he was already guiding her out.

“Not a chance.” He’d say while shooting daggers at the men, daring them to try anything. “We done here?” He asked her and she nodded, looking up at him with a sweet smile, her face warm as he led her out to his car parked outside the safe house.

His car. Where they would spend countless hours making out heavily, quietly, day or night. Mercedes couldn’t resist him when he was so authoritative with others, so protective of her. “Jealous, Logan?” She’d tease as his hands gripped tightly onto her thighs, his teeth biting at her bottom lip to leave a mark.

“You have no idea.” Logan sighed.

Mercedes couldn’t help the soft giggle that left her lips as she said, “You know I barely like you, I’m not looking at any of them.” She teased and Logan laughed, grinning up at her as she ran a hand through his hair and smiled sweetly at him.

“That makes me feel better, baby doll,” He chuckled, kissing her chin lightly and then her jaw. “Especially since you’re kind of a pain in my ass anyway.” Mercedes laughed and lightly smacked his firm chest as she got off his lap. “They’d bring you back to me in no time.” He smirked as he started the car to take her home and away from this rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere where he had to stop because he simply needed to feel her kiss.

Everything was better with each other. Logan didn’t want to be at his little apartment when he could be with her. And with him driving her around anyway, it just made since for them to spend all their time together. They fit into each other’s lives almost seamlessly, it didn’t feel like a forced transition at all.

“Quieres una cerveza o tequila?” (Do you want a beer or tequila?) Mercedes asked as they came back to her apartment from their long day out. Logan took her jacket for her and hung it on the coat rack, doing the same with his own coat as he considered his options.

“What do you want?” He asked, turning around and seeing she was already pouring two shots of tequila. Logan chuckled as he walked over to her, placed a hand on her hip as he stood behind her, and they clinked their shot glasses together before downing their liquor in one go. “C’mere.” He said as she groaned softly from the burn of the gold alcohol in her throat. Logan took her hand and led her to the couch, the spot where their nights usually came to a pleasurable end.

They would make out, nothing more than that just yet. Logan simply needed to feel her, be in this moment with her as she sat on his lap and kissed him. Her dainty hands smoothed over his shoulders and chest while he held onto her ass and caressed her thighs. Their tongues moved in synchronized movements, giving and taking from each other as it heated up. It never went any further. Not because they didn’t want it to, but it just didn’t feel organic to force it. Nothing between them had ever been forced or rushed, why should this?

It wasn’t long before Emilio caught wind of them. One of his men mentioned in passing that Mercedes seemed quite close to the wolf, questionably close. The man had been speaking out of jealousy and while Emilio wouldn’t usually care about who his sister was seeing, he couldn’t have his best problem solver getting distracted at a moment when his organization had far too many rats and enemies.

One afternoon, Logan was called in while Mercedes was at work, and he had a feeling he knew what the conversation would be about. Emilio had him meet at a warehouse where the cartel stored their cars and ammunition. Upon entering the warehouse, Logan eyed the two men with Emilio who was on the phone with whom Logan assumed was Clara based on how he was speaking to her. “Esta aquí, te hablo después,” (He’s here, I’ll call you after,) Emilio said, holding a finger up at Logan who shoved his hands in his pockets in wait. “Si amor mío, te amo.” (Yes, love of mine. I love you.) The drug lord looked up at Logan and gave him an acknowledging nod with a smile as he walked over to a table where there was a cup of coffee, a few papers, and a gun. Logan watched closely as he raised the mug to his mouth and sipped loudly. “Logan, I have heard some rumors of concern to me.” He said as he set the mug down and sat against the table, arms crossed as he looked at the mutant standing across from him. “Rumors about you and Mercedes.” Logan shrugged and Emilio chuckled. “I cannot be mad, I knew it was a possibility when I ordered you to care for her.” Emilio looked over Logan and shook his head almost in a disappointed manner. “I just always thought you were smarter than to let some pussy affect the way you work.”

“My work is to protect your sister.” Logan retorted.

“Por ahora,” (For now) Emilio said with a smirk as he grabbed a paper from the table behind him and cleared his throat. “I have a letter here from an American Sergeant by the name of William Stryker, ring any bells?” Logan shook his head, confused and growing agitated from the drawn out interrogation. “Well, he knows you.” Emilio continued to read the letter and he chuckled, Logan felt uneasy as he noticed the two men closing in on him. “Señor Stryker is willing to pay a lot of money for you, Logan. Makes me wonder just how valuable you really are.” Logan glared at the man on his right, his claws unsheathed themselves from his knuckles and Emilio held a hand up to his men, motioning them to back off. “Por favor, (please) Logan, no need to become violent. I wouldn’t ever think of giving you away like some old dog.” Emilio laughed as he set the letter down. “I just have a question.”

“What?” Logan snapped, growing tired of his game.

“My sister isn’t some girl, you know this, but if she started blur your focus, well, I wouldn’t be too troubled to straighten out that kink in my organization.” Emilio rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he stepped closer to him. Their eyes held each other’s intense gaze and Logan could see a smirk threatening his face. “Is she the only reason you stay?”

Logan should’ve known it was a trap, something more than what it seemed, but he didn’t want to risk her safety. If Emilio thought she was all he cared about, he feared she would be used to hurt him. “I stay for the money.” He muttered, letting his claws retract into his hands. “Mercedes is an added bonus.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Emilio grinned, clapping Logan’s shoulder as he guided him out of the warehouse. “It’s a shaky time for the cartel, Logan, tú entiendes, no? (You understand, no?) We just want to be sure everyone’s alliances are where they should be.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Logan muttered before he took the envelope Emilio handed him with his payment for the month and he quickly headed back to his car.

With the news of this man Stryker searching for him, Logan found himself wondering about his past, something he hadn’t done in a while. His memories were always warped, coming to him in bits and pieces, in incoherent dreams that never made sense. The fact that Stryker had known to contact Emilio told Logan that the sergeant knew he was in Mexico, but he didn’t have any jurisdiction on this continent. For now, he had time to think.

“Logan,” Mercedes’ voice called him out of his thoughts and he looked over at the passenger seat where she was looking at him curiously. “Everything okay? How’d that talk with Emilio go?”

Logan smiled at her and took her hand in his so he could kiss her knuckles. “It went fine, baby doll, just got paid.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

“Right, your babysitter money.” She teased as she clicked on her seatbelt and Logan chuckled as he started the car and rested his hand on her thigh. Since the day at the beach, she seemed to be returning to her usual persona, her usual quips and her playful attitude as prominent as ever. It relieved him more than anything to see her this way, playful and a little mean, as was usual for her.

“I see it more as getting paid to drive a pretty thing around.” He said, making her face warm up as she shook her head at him. Logan felt a sense of urgency as he looked at her and he knew this was something he couldn’t put off any longer. “Wanna go somewhere with me?” He asked her and she smiled, nodding as she intertwined her hand with his in her lap.

It was a longer drive and he wouldn’t answer any of her questions so she guessed their destination, each guess growing more and more ridiculous the further they got from town. “Are we going to Asia?” She asked as Logan parked by the side of the road and he chuckled as he shook his head. Mercedes looked around and noticed he took her to the desert and she couldn’t help a nervous laugh as they sat in the middle of nowhere. “Am I that much of a pain in the ass?” She joked and Logan smirked at her as he moved an arm to rest behind her shoulders.

“If we’re in this together,” Logan said, gently running his fingers through her hair and sighing at the sight of her in the light of the setting sun. “I want to be honest with you.” Mercedes gave him a concerned look and she nodded slowly. “I’m not a good person, baby doll. Haven’t been as long as I can remember, and there’s not much that I can remember before meeting you. Not much that matters anyway.” Her lips turned slightly into a shy smile and she looked away from him. Logan caressed her cheek with his thumb and gently guided her to look back at him. “If it’s going to be me and you, you need to know everything about me. I don’t want you getting involved in something that you might regret later on.”

“Are you trying to scare me out of being with you?” Mercedes asked with a little smirk and Logan couldn’t help his chuckle as his eyes fell onto the dainty crucifix resting on her chest.

“I know you’re not scared of anything.” He said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and moving his thumb over her studded earring. “More than half the bodies out there are my doing.” He said, avoiding her eyes now and looking at the vast, plain land ahead of them. “Not because your brother told me to put them out there either. It was my idea, told him it would be easier than putting a bullet in everyone that wronged him. It’s second nature to me, almost, hurting people, sometimes even the people I care about most.”

Mercedes was quiet for a moment, and she chewed on her lip as she processed everything he said to her. “You’re not the devil,” She said softly, her hand resting on his thigh as she leaned closer to him. “You’re not some wolf or animal,” Logan looked at her and she gave him that sweet smile that always made him ache for her. “You’re just a man, Lo. You’re allowed to do what you can with the cards handed to you, you’re allowed to make mistakes, you’re allowed to feel regret about the things you’ve had to do to survive.” Her hands came up to his jaw and she smiled as his beard tickled her palms. “I’m yours to care for, right?” Logan nodded, his arm came around her waist and he slowly pulled her along the seat so she was pressed against him and their lips locked in a kiss.

“I’ve got you,” He whispered against her mouth. “I’ll always take care of you.”

Without breaking the kiss, she climbed onto his lap and he sighed as she settled her weight on his thighs. Her hands tangled in the hair at the base of his neck and he caressed her back tenderly underneath her top. “I know you will,” Mercedes sighed against his lips. “I believe you.”

They made out in the desert until it grew dark and their lips became raw from the incessant rubbing of his beard against her soft skin. His hands roamed almost every part of her body as she caressed the knots and aches out of his shoulders. Logan wasn’t sure what, but he knew something was coming, and this night gave him the reassurance that he could make it through anything as long as he had her.

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened @imtherain

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part I

“I still think we should hit up somewhere else, Jamie. There are tons of bars that would look the other way and let us grab a few drinks.” One of the three young men passing through New York during college break said as they made their way to the old building housing the Devil’s Den, apparently the most hyped club in the city, which had a strict policy of keeping anyone under 21 out.

“Stop being such a fag, Fred! We’re gonna get in, trust me, man of little faith.” Jamie, the group leader with light brown hair, same color as Mark, shot back. Fred, on the other hand, was blond, and more sensitive, which didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own when it came to arguing; on the contrary, the debate skills of the former debate team captain were legendary.

“Chill, Fred. The worst that can happen is the bouncer looks at the IDs that Jamie’s buddy hooked us up with and realizes we don’t have the right age and kicks us out. But I doubt that’ll happen; in a few months, we’ll all be 21.” Mark commented, always the peacemaker.

“Another reason to wait until we’re actually of age. I don’t want any trouble, guys.” Fred tried to argue again.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here to chicken out, man. If you wanna bail, I’m cool, but think about all the work I put into getting these IDs. And I didn’t even charge you guys!” Jamie grumbled.

“That’s just because your buddy did it for free, asshole. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Mark jumped in before things got heated between the two.

“Some dude I met at the hostel; he’s the one who told me about this place. Apparently, this is the spot for anyone looking for a good time.”

“You mean you trusted someone you barely know? Doesn’t that seem kinda sketchy to you?” Fred asked, outraged, totally shooting down Mark’s efforts.

“I’m sick of your attitude, man! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just head back to the hostel?”

“Hey, hey, chill out, you two! We’re here to have a good time! Fred, let’s check out the place, and if we don’t like it or they kick us out, we’ll head back to the hostel, and I promise I’ll be your wingman with those hot Italian chicks who showed up yesterday, alright? And Jamie, you dumbass, he’s not entirely wrong; it was pretty stupid to trust a stranger, but it’s done now, so let’s just try to have fun, please?” Mark chimed in again.

“Fine, but you know that your parents would kill us if anything goes south, Mark.” Warne Fred, whose parents had already passed away, and, in Jamie’s opinion, was the last one who should be worried instead of acting like a little pussy. Not that he’d say that, at least not now that his buddy finally decided to man up.

“Finally acting like a man, Fred, and not like a little bitch!”

“Hey, man, that’s enough!”

“Chill out, Mark; you’re starting to sound like your dad. Sorry, Fredster, I just want an unforgettable night with my best buds.” Jamie said, hugging Fred on one side to encourage him while Mark did the same on the other.

As they approached the ridiculously long entrance line, Jamie commented.

“Since we’re talking about those hot Italian girls, it’s funny that if we were in most other countries, we wouldn’t even need to convince Fred here; we’d all be of age to drink until we drop without a care in the world.”

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy about hauling his kid from the gutter.” Mark remarked.

“He’s not as strict as your dad, man, but yeah… maybe it’s best not to push it. Damn, look at this line! No way I’m waiting all this crap! Oh, wait, I just remembered something; follow me!” Jamie said, signaling for his friends to follow him to the front of the line, where a huge black guy, looking like a muscle mountain, was running the door, checking IDs and occasionally greeting a buddy with a half-smile in his otherwise stern face. He saw the guys approaching and crossed his arms, giving them a menacing smirking look.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?”

“Good evening, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and, said… said that he hopes you have a… a hell of a night.” Jamie said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” Mark replied, handing over the fake IDs, which the guy scrutinized for a few seconds.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed someone before handing the IDs back to the guys and cracking a smile. “Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

As they stepped into the spacious lobby, the guys were hit with the sounds of music and excited screams, along with flashing lights. And the most impressive thing of all was a guy with olive skin, well-groomed beard and black hair, and a distinctive aquiline nose that hinted at some mediterranean ir middle eastern heritage. But what really stood out about the guy was his stunning build, partially covered by a sharp suit and shiny black pants, with his muscular torso on display for anyone who wanted to see, staring at them with disconcerting eyes and a mischievous grin that made the three feel like they were really inside the Devil’s Den.

“Dude, they really know how to set a mood.” Jamie remarked, eyeing the imposing figure. “Alright, first drinks, then we hit the dance floor for the hot chicks!”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna hit the bathroom; my bladder’s about to explode!” Fred said.

“Then it’s a wonder you didn’t piss yourself from fear before we even got in.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jamie!” he shot back, irritated, as he blended into the crowd on the dance floor.

“You really can’t pass up a chance to be an idiot, can you?” Mark commented, following his other friend through the crowd. “Let me talk to him; you do something useful and grab the drinks. You know a few shots will loosen him up.”

“It’s not my fault he needs booze to stop being a little bitch.” Jamie yelled to be heard over the noise, turning heads with expressions of disbelief toward him, but he was too hyped about the night’s promises to notice, heading for the nearest bar, closely followed by the sinister figure from the entrance. It wasn’t until he reached the bar that he noticed the company.

“Hello, James.” The man said over the cacophony, though his voice didn’t need to rise for Jamie to hear him.

“How do you know my name?” Jamie shouted back.

“Jerome gave me a heads-up about your arrival; I’m Mr. Shay the manager of this place. And I know you shouldn’t be here tonight, kid.”

“Damn… then why didn’t you stop us at the door?”

“Because I understand the need for a young man to rebel. Especially when his dad is such a major buzzkill.” The man said with bright eyes.

“I… he just wants what’s best for me… a decent job for a real man and… and sometimes it’s a drag.” Jamie replied in a whisper, not realizing the man knew way more about him than he should.

“Oh, I get it, kid, and just when you finally have a chance to chill, your friends leave you hanging.”

“Pussies!” The kid grumbled, not seeing the man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You seem to have a problem with gay people. What’s that about?”

“I don’t have a problem with gays; I have issues with little faggots, those sissy boys who take it up the ass like they’re chicks. My dad raised me to be a real man.”

“But it’s tough living under the weight of other people’s expectations, under the rigid standards taught by someone, isn’t it? Sometimes all you wanna do is chill out, let loose, and be happy, right? And have your friends be able to enjoy that with you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s settled! Poncho, a shot of tequila for my buddy here.” The man said as the spell seemed to break while he glided through the crowd with ease, almost floating, and for an instant if one looked closely one would catch a glimpse of his true form.

Still a bit dazed, Jamie turned to the bar and bumped into a Latino guy in his late thirties, with a chiseled, muscular chest completely exposed except for a bow tie around his neck, sipping a drink while the shot of tequila the other guy ordered was held in his hand.

“On the house.” The guy said with a smile. Without thinking twice, Jamie downed the shot.

“Nice one, hermano.” The man commented, grinning.

“Gracias, tio.” Jamie replied, smiling as he left the bar with a dreamy look.

There was definitely something extra in that tequila, Jamie’s rational side thought, a side that seemed to shrink more every minute. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, seeing colors and smelling scents he’d never experienced before, while that rational side tried in vain to shout inside his head, drowned out by an overwhelming numbness.

“Mierda, que guapo…” he murmured in Spanish, watching a muscular guy dancing shirtless. Without even stopping to think how out of character that was for him.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, with an unspeakable desire taking hold of him, making him vibrate and tremble inside he made his way toward the guy, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, Javier, the latino 21 years old man, approached the older man.

“Hey, papi, want some company?” He asked with a vacant look and dreamy voice that the other guy didn’t seem to notice, and in a few seconds, they were both dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“So, kid, where you from?”

“Right here, raised in El Barrio.” Javier answered.

“But where did your family come from?”

“My grandparents came with my dad and my uncles from Colombia in the early 90s. Maybe you know my uncle. He works as a bartender here; they call him Poncho, even though he’s not Mexican, but he says he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, so that’s why a kid like you is in here.” The man commented.

“I’ll show you who’s the kid.” Javier replied, kissing the man, who returned the kiss with passion.

Neither of them seemed to notice that the kid’s shirt seemed to evaporate in the air or the inches he gained in height or the facial hair sprouting on his face. After a long moment of pleasure, the two pulled away.

“So, papi, am I man enough for you?” Javi asked with a grin, while the other guy stared at him, breathless.

“Now I gotta bounce; my shift’s about to start!” Javi said, walking with a smile toward the bar. His muscles growing and expanding into an athletic, well-proportioned physique, with just the bow tie of his uniform to cover up.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name, boy!”

“If you want to find me, just head to the bar. And don’t call me boy; do I look like a kid to you?” He replied, flexing his muscles. Only a man could call him that, and that certainly wasn’t this one.

When he got to the bar, his uncle greeted him with a smile but also with a warning.

“If your dad finds out about this…”

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, tio. Plus, next year I’ll be graduating, and the boss is gonna put me to work in accounting, although I think I’ll still take a few shifts with you just for fun.”

“Javi, you really don’t get it, do you? If not your dad, then because of that musclehead you’re seeing.”

“It’s his fault for not showing up yet. And right when the main attraction’s about to start.” He said, looking at the club’s stage lighting up. “Though to him no attraction compares to my ass.” He concluded with a grin.

[papercorgiworld]

Nightmares

Request for Blaise Zabini and Mattheo Ridddle 

After a nightmare they look for you in search of comfort and warmth

Just fluff, no other way to describe this. 💛 Happy readings!

Blaise 

Like an electric shock had just gone through his body Blaise woke up with his heart raising and an agonising anxiety rushing through his body. He looked around the room but it was too dark to make out anything at first, his eyes still adjusting. “Nightmare?” He heard a whisper and looked at Mattheo’s bed to the left of his. “Yeah.” Blaise answered, his voice shaky because his body was still in a state of panic. “I’m gonna go out for a bit.” Blaise grabbed his sweater hanging on his bed frame. They had all been suffering from nightmares since they had been forced to become deadeathers. 

Quietly Blaise closed the door behind him, in hopes not to wake his friends. Blaise ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before pulling his sweater over his head. Now standing in the empty common room Blaise’s mind rushed to the image of you and your comforting voice. The thought of you always calmed him, but right now after the nightmare he had had it wasn’t enough. He needed to talk to you right now. 

Officially you were friends, but you both enjoyed each other's company too much to still believe that you were just friends. Now that Blaise summoned his broom and flew outside the castle to get to your window he was again reminded of how important you were to him. He was relieved when he spotted light at the window you usually occupied. As he flew closer your figure came into sight. You were doodling and writing in your notebook, unaware of the slytherin approaching you.

A soft knock on the window has you jump up and you see Blaise laughing at how startled you are, holding your wand up in defence. You sigh relieved and open the window, tucking your wand away. “Sorry about that.” Blaise immediately apologies as he lands and enters through the window. “You didn’t seem so sorry when you were laughing.” You playfully push his shoulder. “You alone?” He asks his eyes scanning the room and you nod, taking a step closer and resting your hands on his chest and shoulder. “Yes, you alright? It’s the middle of the night.” Blaise takes in the feeling of your hands on him and smiles down at you. All was well again now that you were close. “Nightmare.” He simply stated and your eyes immediately grew sympathetic, knowing what he was going through. You knew exactly how heavy everything weighed on him.

How about I conjure chocolate milk and make all your pain go away. Blaise raises his brows. “Must be some chocolate milk you make.” You laugh and guide him towards the comfortable couch in front of the fireplace. “Chocolate milk fixes everything.” You state as you conjure two hot cups. You proudly stare at your work and look back at Blaise staring at you with adoring eyes. “What?” You laughed, feeling awkward to be adored so shamelessly. “Nothing can fix what’s going on, but having you near makes it at least bearable. Don’t ever change.” He whispers those last words in a pleading way as he wraps his arms around you. “I won’t… as long as you promise to stay with me.” Your eyes lock and there’s a warm silence as Blaise gently nods before meeting your lips for a sweet kiss that quickly turns passionate and intense. 

Mattheo

Mattheo jolted up and scanned the room with eyes terrified of what he had dreamed. His breath was heavy as he let himself fall back onto his bed. Salazar, this can’t keep happening. Mattheo ran a hand through his hair and stared up at the ceiling. He tried to close his eyes but the screams from his nightmare came back, though he barely remembered what he had dreamed his body was still shaking with fear. His mind wondered if you were awake, but he pushed the desire to be with you away and again tried to close his eyes.

He failed to fall asleep immediately and felt himself get more scared and restless with each passing second. Seeing no way out and desperate to get rid of the miserable feeling weighing his heart Mattheo got up, picking up a random t-shirt, not even sure it was his, and headed out.

His initial plan was to head for the astronomy tower and just relax there for a bit but his heart kept raising and his brain only came up with one thing, or rather person, that would calm him. Even when Mattheo got on his broom he felt doubt about seeking you out. It was obvious that you two liked each other a lot, but Mattheo made it his mission to keep you at a distance. He was terrified that you would get involved with his messy life. What could a man like him even offer you? You deserved better than to live your life as the woman who chose the son of evil, to be judged constantly like he had been his entire life. You had a choice to stay free of it all and Mattheo vowed to make sure you made the right choice. 

However, tonight he really needed a break. He felt that he needed to be with you or he would go insane. Flying by the window of your common room he saw light and slowly approached to see you waving goodbye to your friend. Mattheo flew closer to the half opened window and watched you as you flipped a page in your book. You were wearing comfy clothes and your hair was messy, but you still looked perfect. Quietly Mattheo landed and opened the window further, poking his head through to make sure you were alone. 

You hear a sound from the window and turn away from your book. Your eyes widen in surprise. “Mattheo?” You half whisper as you get up. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Mattheo carefully puts his broom in a corner of the room and takes in the warmth of your common room. “Theo was snoring, so I went flying and saw some light and yeah, thought I’d come say ‘hi’.” You found his whole explanation a bid off, but decided not to ask any questions. “I’m glad you're here, my friends just left but I feel like the chapter I’m reading is gonna be a scary one.” Mattheo chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the scary letters.” You side eye him, when he doesn’t take your fear seriously. 

Mattheo settles on the sofa opposite of the fire and you join him, flipping open your book. When you feel his eyes on you, you look away from your page to meet his eyes. “You want to talk about it?” You ask knowing something was off, just not what. Mattheo shakes his head no and you give him a sympathetic smile before returning to your book. 

Mattheo stares at you for another moment before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer, so you are now leaning into him. His neediness for affection in combination with his silence has you worried. “Is everything alright?” Mattheo smiles against the crown of your head. “It is now.” He whispers, before kissing your head. You close your book and gently let it fall on the floor so you can turn towards Mattheo, half on top of him and with your hand on his chest you both feel the temperature rise. “Do I need to worry?” You whisper and Mattheo just shakes his head. “No. I couldn’t sleep.” He finally admits and you frown. “I had a nightmare and I just needed to see you.” 

His vulnerability made him even more attractive than he already was and you push yourself up a bit so you reach his lips, slowly brushing them with your own. You were surprised by your own boldness to kiss him, but then again you had never been so close both physically and emotionally as in this moment. Instinctively Mattheo’s hand runs up and down your side to land on your half bare ass considering your pyjama shorts were very short. When you don’t immediately kiss him again, Mattheo squeezes your ass and pushes himself up to meet your lips. “Everything feels like a nightmare, but when I’m with you it’s like living the dream.” Mattheo whispers and with those words you let yourself shamelessly fall for the slytherin, kissing him passionately and desperately.

[accirax]

hey! i was wondering about eden’s emotional cg scenes with teruko at the end of ep14; if eden does happen to be the culprit, how would it affect her characterisation? personally, i can’t help but see it in a negative light, one which dampens her impact on arei, teruko and others with her ‘rational optimism’ and general kindness. if eden believed arei wanted to be friends with her, and was willing to reciprocate it, would eden really kill her in cold blood?? if her tears at the end of ep14 were genuine, would it go against her ultimately being the blackened?

tl:dr: how would you justify eden’s last moments at the end of ep14, if she were the culprit? it felt truly genuine to me, but i can’t help but notice her suspicious behaviour and inconsistencies in regards to the ch2 murder :(

(sorry, i’ve never done an ask before!! apologies if this is worded poorly.)

Can Eden Still Be the Culprit (Again)?

Haha, it figures that, even if I didn't choose to cover it in my Episode 14 Dissection, I'd still wind up analyzing what was going on in that scene anyways. Glad you're curious to hear my thoughts! (And don't worry, you phrased everything perfectly!)

The truth is, I didn't initially go over it because I wanted to post my thoughts on the day after the episode aired I, too, am somewhat confused as to how Eden could say all of that and still potentially be the blackened. However, as someone who still believes that Eden could be the blackened, it's probably a good idea if I figure out for myself what the hell this scene means in the context of DRDT at large if votes for Eden are close at hand. And potentially preempt some of the backlash that might arise if they are.

Just know that I, too, think that some of my points might be a bit of a stretch sometimes. We cool? Cool. Let's get analyzing.

SPOILERS for DRDT through Chapter 12 Episode 14, as well as Chapter 2 of THH and Chapter 1 of SDR2, and a WARNING that we will (obviously) be discussing Eden!culprit throughout this post.

For Eden's words and actions to make sense under the preconception that she is the killer, I think there are only three major roads you can take.

NUMBER ONE: EDEN IS A LYING, MANIPULATIVE, SCUMBAGGY PIECE OF SHIT

This option... is not great. Everybody agrees that it is not great. I hesitate to use the word "bad," because I think that people are way too hasty to call things "bad writing" (especially before they've even happened), but... I'm not gonna lie, it's pretty bad.

Basically, what it says on the tin. Just like David, Eden has actually been a liar and a manipulator the whole time. She doesn't actually believe anything she said about optimism or the power of friendship, and was 100% using that attitude the whole time to get everybody's guards down. A character like that would have no problem saying whatever the hell she needed to say in order to get others to pity and therefore not vote for her.

I don't like this one because it fully invalidates everything that we've seen from Eden so far. For someone like David-- or, say, Nagito-- even in the midst of their big heel turn, there are parts of their previous characterization that are still salvageable. Teruko caught David being a hater on literally Day 1, and it was easy to read into his outbursts of anger and insane nosiness to expect that his personality wasn't really as bright as his stars. Similarly, even if Hajime got along with Nagito, he was still sort of a creepy and off-putting guy, and everything about his love of hope stayed as strong as ever. For Eden to suddenly turn to the dark side would truly come out of nowhere. Other than... I don't know, liking to bake?, I don't think there are any aspects of Eden's former characterization that would remain. Not that her character would remain in the story for much longer, but, whatever.

I'm going to discount this option because I have faith in DRDTdev's writing, and I don't think he would suddenly want to abandon the Eden character he's been strongly developing over the past two chapters. Again, I refuse to call anything bad writing until the Chapter at least, if not the story as a whole, is wrapped up, but there's a reason why everyone's first instinct is to hate this idea.

NUMBER TWO: EDEN IS THE BLACKENED BUT DOESN'T KNOW IT

Basically, Eden is able to be so genuine because she either forgot or didn't know that she was the one to kill Arei, but we'll still be able to convict her in the end because all of the evidence points to her. How would this work? Well, sorastar6 came up with a theory that Eden might have killed Arei but blocked it out of her memory. It could also be something where, like, someone else put her up to it and she accidentally let go of the rope or whatever to kill Arei without realizing it. (That idea is loosely based off of a-student-out-of-time's theory of David manipulating Hu to kill J-dressed-as-Arei-- hopefully if they read this, they won't mind me using their theory as a logistical basis off of which to accuse Eden 😅)

However, I don't think either of these cases are particularly likely either. The murder method is so complicated and clearly premeditated that it would be really hard to trick someone into operating it without realizing it at all. And, if Eden killing Arei traumatized her so much that she lost multiple hours of memory then you'd think she'd just... not do it. I respect the hard work and creativity of both of these theorists, but I'll be passing on this option as well.

NUMBER THREE: EDEN FEELS REALLY, REALLY GUILTY ABOUT IT

Okay, so I maybe-sorta-lied: there are probably other ways that you could interpret Eden's emotional reactions to talking about Arei's death other than specifically her being guilty. However, given that guilt was already the justification I reached for the first Eden mini-breakdown in my Episode 13 Dissection, it may not come as a surprise that I'm staying on theme.

Before, I summarized that what Eden was saying to Levi was basically what she wanted to say or already said to herself. She knows that killing Arei was "wrong," so even though she thought it was the right thing to do, she wants to always remember Arei and acknowledge her faults as a form of penance. Also importantly, one facet of why Eden might be breaking down now is because (under the theory) she only learned that Arei truly wanted to change and be her friend in the Trial when David told her. It makes her feel extra guilty now knowing that she killed someone who wasn't just her bully, but someone who wanted to be better than that.

We're going to keep that rationale in mind as we now look through everything that Eden has to say at the end of Episode 14. The only thing of note that I will have to concede is that, even if Eden isn't a liar or a manipulator overall, any time she says anything along the lines of "I'm innocent!" or "I didn't kill Arei!", it has to be a boldface lie. Sorry, I don't like it either, but there's no way around it (outside of something like option 2). I otherwise want to claim that Eden is straight-up lying as little as possible, but this was kind of a gimme. But hey, that's why I have my doubts that any of this will turn out to be true as well.

Since this is its own post and not part of the Episode 14 Dissection, it means that I get 30 images to use on just this subject, hooray!

This is certainly a softball to start this defense off on. Eden can just be confused/upset that her efforts to evade being the blackened aren't working all of a sudden.

Similarly, this is just her rephrasing/challenging everyone's thoughts. Perhaps I should have cut out some of these beginning statements, but I'm always one for being thorough.

Don't worry, this is the last of these three. I will note, though, something that I actually only noticed on this watch-through. I was aware that Teruko and David both had shots that only showed their mouths and torsos with their eyes obscured in this episode, but apparently, Eden has one too. Of course, this could go either way: these shots could be reserved for the "major players" of this chapter-- the protagonist, killer, and someone who's clearly getting extra focus-- or, it could be more of a protag/antag/support thing. Or maybe DRDTdev just decided to start using this for highly emotional scenes.

Well, given that I'm trying to throw Eden under the bus in this post, it's clearly the first of the three. Don't listen to any clowns (<- me) who might tell you otherwise. (/j)

"Hold myself together" isn't as innocent-coded as it might seem on the surface. It seems pretty clear to me that Eden feels genuine sadness over Arei's passing no matter her role in Arei's death. However, being the blackened and having to keep a secret throughout the Trial might make coping with those emotions even more difficult. Fully breaking down in grief would be bad enough as an innocent, but as a blackened, it would basically be game over. Arei's death is the cause of her discomposure, which can still be equally true if she was the one to kill Arei.

This is quite possibly the line that I have the hardest time justifying in the context of Eden being guilty. I could obviously just say that she's lying here, but as I said at the start, I want to call what Eden says lies as minimally as possible. So, what are our other options?

Nico said earlier this episode that attempting to kill Ace was "the worst choice that [they'd] made in [their] life," so it could be fitting for both of our killers this chapter to feel the same way. After seeing what it was like to kill Arei and have everyone suspect you, Eden decides that whatever her motive for killing was wasn't worth it in the end. However, now that she's in this situation, she still has to stick with her initial plan (unless she wants to just die on the spot) because she can't go back, no matter how hard she tries--

For DRDT to enter its third chapter with the cast at their most hostile and downtrodden but also only having one killer who did so accidentally and two killers who deeply regretted it would be very interesting indeed.

Alternatively (or perhaps in combination), this could also be Eden being somewhat of a pessimist. If you're a blackened, you're generally hoping/expecting that everyone other than you will die. However, only one person's death is actually guaranteed-- your victim's. (Or two people's deaths if you kill two people, but that's not important to this case.) In theory, Eden choosing to kill Arei in particular doesn't really matter, because if she won the Class Trial, Arei would die anyways. However, now that Teruko has accused Eden, reality might be setting in for Eden as her dreams of being the one to escape flit away. In that case, she may be regretting her choice to victimize Arei-- if she's going to die for her attempt, she might at least wish that Arei got to live over some others.

I think the first option is probably the best from a thematic perspective, although both options certainly have their counterarguments.

Eden's (stellar) read on the "Why?" line definitely implies that she's frustrated, which could go either way. It's equally possible that she could be mad that people are suspecting her when she's innocent, or that she's upset that everyone is suddenly hounding her when she thought she was putting up a good front.

As for her leading question, if Eden is the killer, we've already seen her subtly mine for information at least once before. The conclusion of her last breakdown was her trying to ask David what really happened between him and Arei in the Relaxation Room. Now, asking this question might be intended to either shore up arguments she hopes to defend herself against, or force other people to "concede" that there are no reasons why Eden would have killed Arei. A bit of a dangerous gambit, but it's arguably more dangerous to have to come up with justifications about unknown arguments on the spot, especially when emotionally struggling.

Not gonna lie, though, the fact that she immediately followed up "why do you think I killed her" with "I cared about her!" also slants towards an innocent read. If you really were the culprit, I feel like you would start trying to argue against some of the solid evidence that people just presented (such as Levi bringing up the information required to write that note) with evidence of your own. Instead, Eden shoots straight for the emotional defense, even though no one was arguing that Eden never cared about Arei leading into this speech. (Arturo brings up her connection to Arei, but he never directly says it was because she didn't care.) It could speak to the fact that she was fully unprepared to be accused (because she didn't do it and had no idea about the tape).

However, Eden has always been a very emotional person, and it's possible that a big part of her intended defense was to say that she cared about Arei. Another interpretation is that Eden brought this up now because it's something she's insecure about. It sort of goes back to my idea that Eden is still desperately trying to cling to the idea that she's a "good person" despite her choice to kill. If that's true, the way that Eden is perceived as the killer might be very important to her. Like, obviously surviving the Trial itself is the most important thing, but Eden doesn't want anyone to misinterpret her as a monster on her path to the finish line.

I already explained why this line was sus as hell to me:

This distinction-- between "Arei was my friend" and "Arei could have been my friend"-- could be very telling down the line. Eden pauses mid-tear-filled rant to distinguish that Arei is not her friend, not because she's dead, but because they hadn't reached that point yet. Arei is not Eden's friend in death. What can that possibly mean other than that Eden killed Arei?

This is one of the lines that makes me most think that she is the blackened in this monologue. Because, seriously, why would she not have just said "Arei was my friend!" if there wasn't any doubt in her mind?

Alright, I think that about now is a good time for me to drop the thesis I've developed whilst reflecting on Eden's behavior and how to put all of the pieces together. Should I have said it earlier? Maybe, but where's the drama in that?

Basically, for starters, I don't think that Eden fully believed that Arei genuinely wanted to be her friend. As I've said before, Arei saving Eden from Arturo happened mere hours after Arei denounced her entire personality. It's super believable that Eden might think that Arei was just using her usual manipulative tricks to make Eden look like the fool again. However, despite all that, I don't think that Eden hated Arei, either. They were just in the exact same state that they were in before-- Arei as the bully and Eden as her target-- which Eden had never hated Arei for before. Eden wanted to help her and wanted to be friends with her, as she says in this screenshot, but that doesn't mean it could actually happen. Tragically, Eden determined that Arei wouldn't be able to change while being trapped in this killing game.

After that, Eden decides that she needs to kill to escape the school. The exact motives of which have puzzled Eden!culprit theorists for months, with current speculations still being that it may either have to do with her secret, the girl she kissed, or her family, who she told Levi she couldn't imagine living without. We've got time to cook on that in the post-Trial, if Eden is the killer. However, I also don't think that we should discount how scary the killing game has become.

Let's run through the events of Day 6 again, because it's a truly terrible day for Eden:

Eden wakes up in the morning and goes to rouse Teruko, who she has to blackmail in order to even get her to consider attending breakfast with the others. She tries to convince Teruko about the value of optimism, but Teruko only tells her that her worldview makes Teruko even less inclined to be her friend. Speaking of lack of friendship, Eden's chances at a peaceful breakfast-- which she had been hoping to use to bring everyone together-- are dashed when there are three separate shouting matches going on in the Dining Hall. Eden tries to assign her associates to break up the fights, but it goes terribly-- all she does is get Arturo and J mad at her, while Veronika only makes the situation between Ace and Nico worse.

After David's plan causes Charles (who has been making some of the most progress so far) to recall his traumatic past, Eden tries to invite Teruko and Arei to a fun event to brighten everyone's moods and right her wrongs of the past. Except that, when she does, Arei rejects her offer outright and brings up some of her biggest insecurities, causing Eden to run out of the room crying. Neither Teruko, who Eden has been trying super hard to befriend, nor David, who has (theoretically) been acting in the name of harmony and cooperation, run after her to offer her any comfort.

Despite David's lack of support, though, she still decides to support him by following his idea to let Arturo know about his secret. Trying to do so nearly costs her her life. She's just one unarmed 5'2" clockmaker against a clearly agitated 6'3" surgeon with a scalpel, and she's only saved by the bully who just said that Eden "utterly disgust[ed] her in every way." Arei now claims that she'd do anything for Eden, but is that just another setup through which Arei can make fun of her trusting nature in the future...? Eden wants to hope, but it's hard to do so when the person who just saved you was the one who told you you shouldn't.

Anyways, even despite a long afternoon of Nico being outed and a long night of being stalked by probably-Arturo, Eden is still trying to help Teruko pick up her clothes when she runs into Teruko in the Dress-Up Room. But since nothing can go right for Eden today, it's then when she and Teruko hear a loud noise, and they stumble upon Ace's body in the Gym-- the second murder attempt Eden has seen today. Nico is standing over Ace, really making it look like they killed him. Gosh, if only someone had been able to talk to the two of them this morning in a productive way, instead of making things worse. Thankfully, Ace is still alive, but less thankfully, he's now a convert to killing and wants to eliminate Nico. The day ends with Ace saying that this place is worse than death and Levi-- who Eden had just been praising for being kind and reliable-- giving up on his former friend.

Are you starting to see why Eden started planning murder and picked up the tape when she did?

Looking at it through that perspective, I don't even know if Eden needs a reason outside of the killing game to want to be the blackened and escape. If we can accept that Ace's motive would be to escape the situation in which he almost died, it feels like we should be able to acknowledge that Eden could be motivated by the exact same thing.

Obviously, it's harder to believe that Eden would kill than Ace, because Eden generally cares about everybody and Ace (other than Levi, once) didn't really like anyone. However, I, at least, don't think it would be totally narratively unsatisfying for Eden's reason for killing to be that her bandwidth for caring for others was overloaded, and with no one supporting her (and at least one party actively attacking her), her fears of the killing game got the better of her, if only just for a moment.

Getting back on track, Eden's terrible awful no good very bad day has inspired her to kill, but who does she take down as her victim? Well, as we've established before, if Eden wins, everyone will die anyways, so it's not like she's really "sparing anyone's life" by not killing them here. She's already made her peace with everyone as she knows them dying. And after that, despite the care she still has for Arei, she chooses Arei as her victim because of what Arei told her after Arturo attacked Eden. But, I'll reiterate, Eden doesn't hate Arei. Instead, Eden chooses Arei because she thinks Arei is the victim that will make her look the least suspicious.

Just because Eden doesn't believe that Arei really wanted to be her friend doesn't mean that other people won't. In fact, I think that Arturo would definitely believe that the two of them had turned over a new leaf. In this situation, Eden is aware that her best path to innocence is to play up her kindhearted personality in order to lead people to believe that she would never hurt a fly. Therefore, she decides to leave the note behind so that people will hear about the story of Arturo attacking her. In my Episode 14 dissection, I was spinning my wheels trying to figure out why Eden would possibly want anyone to find that note. However, this option would create a reason why Eden would want others to read the note. The mere fact that Arei decided to come to the Playground would serve as evidence that Arei really did care about Eden, and therefore make Eden seem more innocent. Maybe she overstepped a bit on revealing so much about Arturo's secret in the note, but given that everyone seems to believe that the killer overhearing the conversation was possible anyways, it's not a huge deal.

However, there is a contradiction here that you may have picked up on. Why would Eden count on using a note to draw Arei out to the Playground if she didn't believe that Arei would actually listen to her? I raise you a new idea: who says that note was actually real?

For those who believe that Eden isn't the killer, the thought that someone falsified writing that note isn't anything revolutionary. However, if other culprits could plant that note as a fake, who's to say that Eden didn't do the same?

I believe it was demodraws606 who recently raised the question of why Eden would even bother writing a note to Arei when she could have just gone up and knocked on her door. (Apologies, I tried to find the post in which they said that but I couldn't track it down 😔) That excellent question set off the domino chain that made me think... well, maybe she did.

Eden works through the night (14 hour shifts, baby) setting up the pieces of her murder contraption in the Playground and writing a fake note that she "sent" to Arei. However, instead of sending that note to Arei, she goes to Arei's room herself and knocks on her door at, like, 7 AM or something. Eden doesn't necessarily believe that Arei will answer, but, if she doesn't-- that's not the worst thing in the world, right? It's not like she's particularly pressed about the secrets deadline, and she left herself with enough time to put away her murder scheme if necessary. Unfortunate, but assuming that she lives another day, she can try again some other time. However, instead, Arei opens the door (because, unbeknownst to Arei, she really did want to be friends with Eden), sealing her fate.

This also opens the opportunity for the scene of knocking Arei out to be in the doorway of Arei's room, instead of in the Playground. I always wondered how the scuffs on the floor would be so contained to one area near the entrance to the Playground. Like, the whole rope setup must have been at least somewhat set up by the time Arei entered the Playground, right? If Arei saw that, why wouldn't she start running away? And, in the case of Eden as the culprit specifically, would she really be able to subdue Arei in such a small area? If Arei was knocked out in her room, we wouldn't be able to see any evidence of that happening, because no one searched her room. That also leaves open the opportunity for Eden to have tossed any items she used to knock out Arei into Arei's room, where no one would be able to find them. And, hell, let's rope the glove into this, too! If Arei was never even intending to get dressed up to the level of leaving her room, maybe she hadn't yet put on her glove when Eden taped her wrists! It's weak reasoning, but it's a reasoning, at least!

(Also, if you're wondering how the scuffs on the ground could have gotten there if Arei wasn't subdued in the Playground, sorastar6 also recently made a theory that the ground was actually scuffed up after the jugs broke and the turf became wet, and it was the killer walking through a puddle that messed up the ground.)

After that, yada yada, ropes and carousel, Arei dies, investigation, Class Trial.

Eden is trying her best to just lay low and survive the Class Trial, but a wrench is thrown her way when David reveals to her that, after she left the Playground, Arei confessed to David and Teruko that she actually wanted to change. This goes against everything that Eden thought. Part of her reason for murder was that no one was willing to work with her, and now she learns that she just killed the one person who actually was? That's terrible! It can't be! David, please tell me the rest of that story!!!

At this point, you might wonder why, if Eden feels horribly guilty about killing Arei and unsure of her former conviction that the best thing she could do would be to get out of here alive, she wouldn't just confess to the crime already. Beyond her desire to survive herself, I think it could be because she wants Arei's death to have meaning.

If Eden gives up, it means that she killed Arei for no reason. She made the huge, irreversible decision to kill Arei, and then decided to throw it away when things got tough. But she won't let herself brush away the deaths she caused just because it was inconvenient for her.

She won't let her emotions take precedence over the harm that she caused.

She has to acknowledge that Arei's death was her fault.

Which means that, just like Min did, she has to fight like a proper blackened would if she wants to prove that she cared about enough Arei to believe that her life had meaning.

And that's why Eden is so insistent that she didn't kill Arei because she hated her. She isn't someone who believed that Arei was fully incapable of change, and she still cared about Arei a lot. And so, she'll honor Arei's legacy by taking to heart what Arei said to her.

Those are my general thoughts on how to justify Eden's breakdown at the end of the episode-- although, obviously, we still have more to go. That awkward middle placement strikes again, huh? But, I do think it has its benefits, which is why I'm keeping it here. We get to balance some buildup before the point with the lens of seeing some of the dialogue after the point. Let's wrap up the rest of this a bit quicker, shall we?

Since we're a while from the start, let me just issue a refresher that this post is assuming that every time Eden says "I didn't kill Arei" she is just lying. Yes, it assumes that Eden is willing to lie in a Class Trial, but I think that any 18 year old would be capable of pulling that off if their life was at stake, no matter how sweet they may seem.

This could also be another instance of Eden assessing the situation via asking a question.

This line would be tying back to the assumption that Eden's main plan for getting away with the crime (other than possibly framing Nico with the murder method) was to pull the emotional defense that others wouldn't believe that she killed. The tears could still absolutely be borne of genuine fear, but the choice to reach for help from Teruko could be her planned fallback if things got dicey. If she is the killer, then the evidence should stack against her, meaning that "belief" is her best way out of receiving votes. This is her hail mary.

"This trial has been cruel to me" is 100% right if she is the blackened who got jumpscared by knowing that Arei cared. After she initially acted against her instincts to kill for the sake of her life, she then has to face consequences that she didn't even think were possible, all while keeping a straight face. For whoever the killer is, can you imagine how stressful it must have been to have David extend the Trial for so much longer with his nonsense? (Mondo with Byakuya vibes in Ch2, honestly. The THH parallels never rest.)

Again, we're saying "I didn't kill her" is a lie, while "I just wanted to help her" was the truth. Something more along the lines of "I just wanted to help Arei, but she seemingly rejected my every effort, so I killed her but without the knowledge that my help was actually getting through to her" is what we're aiming for here.

I decided to combine these two together because I didn't have much to say about the first one on its own. One interesting thing to note here is what thebadjoe pointed out: Eden says that friends are supposed to help each other out, yet in Chapter 2 Episode 3, she was the one telling Teruko that relationships aren't transactional. What changed between now and then?

Well, this is much more in keeping with Arei's "that's what friends do" philosophy, which could either be a further indication that she was taking Arei's words to heart (for better or for worse) or that she's just desperate enough that she needs to count on Teruko in this moment if she wants to survive (again, whether genuinely innocent or guilty). It could mean nothing, but it could also be an indication of Eden's more manipulative side, if she's making an emotional argument that goes against her own philosophy just because she knows it'll strike a chord with Teruko.

(Of course, you can basically counterbalance this "inconsistency" with the one that one post (yet ANOTHER post I cannot fucking re-find) pointed out with Ace saying "I would never commit a murder of my own" with him previously saying that he was "about to commit a murder of his own" on Nico. They can't both be the killer unless something really weird is going on, so at least one of these "inconsistencies" has to mean nothing.)

Also, while I wouldn't go so far as to say that Eden is faking her tears over Arei (because that's clearly not true) there's also room for Eden to be crying here because she feels bad about manipulating Teruko, but as established before, still feels like she has to go through with it. Her acting doesn't have to be impeccable if the crying is covering up the crying she would already be doing.

'Cause sometimes, the breaks you take in between sniffles can conceal the breaks you would be taking as you struggle to lie to Teruko's face! Hypothetically.

"Please trust me, Teruko. You're my only hope."

In this hypothetical, I think we have to assume that Eden is just genuinely surprised that the super-smart Teruko wasn't able to see through her act. It might come as a shock that the same Teruko who said that Eden's kindness made her want to stay farther away would now see Eden's pleading as a sign to protect her. (Another judgment of character that Eden made incorrectly.)

And now, for the other hardest part to justify...

With the combination of the soft music (the same music that plays during the "kindness isn't weakness" scene, mind you) and the bokeh lights and the line deliveries and everything, this does feel like pretty convincing evidence that Eden is not the killer. But, if we're talking about the world in which she is, I do think that she still feels genuinely relieved here. The hug isn't directly manipulative, it's just thanking Teruko for giving her another shot at life.

Furthermore, it's a confirmation that, in Teruko's eyes, Eden still isn't a "bad person"-- at least not yet. Eden needs to continue believing that she's a good person with good ideas if she wants to have any hopes of fighting back against the cold and cruel world she was telling Teruko about. If she's become just as cold and cruel as the rest of them, then there's no way for her to be optimistic or kind, and therefore, no way to escape the grief that's haunting her. Eden has yet to learn that a good person is not gold, so that's the only world that she sees.

And, that's Eden's last line of the episode! Before we wrap up, though, I do want to talk about how Eden being the culprit would affect the story as a whole, as you touched upon that in your ask. Mainly, I want to talk about the big problem that many people have with Eden being the killer: what would happen to Teruko if it's proven that one of her closest allies is the killer again? We don't want a repeat of Chapter 1, but how do you avoid that after that hug?

As is my M.O., I'm here to argue that there are two ways you can make the situation different: by making it better or making it worse. In terms of making it better, I think that thefandomenchantress argued for it well in this post. If Eden's gotten her most desperate moment out of the way now, she might have room to be a bit more accepting in her final moments, and be able to reassure Teruko that just because she killed doesn't mean nobody is worthy of trust. In fact, Eden is so sad now because she didn't have enough trust in Arei, and look where that landed her! We could end Eden off on at least being happy that she and Arei were both able to change in the ways that the other wanted for them (Arei becoming more helpful and Eden becoming more responsible) and her being happy that at least the other students get to live.

On the other hand, you could make it worse. Venus-is-thinking and I have discussed together before how different Min and Eden's situations are, because while Min only really tried getting close to Teruko after her crime was already committed, Eden has been trying to become Teruko's friend for ages, before the idea to murder even crossed her mind. This death would be even more personal, as it can more so be argued that Teruko's lack of trust is part of what drove Eden to kill, whereas with Min, it was just that Teruko initially trusting Min opened her more up to hurt. You might argue that this would just cause Teruko to pull away even more harshly (which is still bad), but that's not necessarily the case. Maybe her breakdown this time drives her to get in people's faces so that they'll die even faster and she can rip the bandage off. Along those lines, maybe she'd even try to get closer to those she least trusts right now (like David) because clearly, her curse will cause those who she spends the most time with to die. The circumstances around Teruko have changed, which means that we can't expect the same sort of pressure to necessarily yield the same result.

As for your concerns about Eden's impact on Arei and genuine-seeming emotions, hopefully my main dissertation answers how I'd explain that ^_^

If you're wondering how I feel... well, despite everything that I wrote, I'm honestly kinda thinking that it's Ace at this point. Don't get me wrong, I think that the Eden read is still out there, but given how seemingly little time we have until the culprit is revealed, there may not be enough time to unpack anything close to this before the gavel comes down. Everyone keeps posting their polls about who people think is the killer, and I keep flip-flopping on whether I choose Eden or Ace as my answer. I wouldn't be surprised if either of them did it, except that--

Well, let's be honest. At this point, I'm going to be flabbergasted by whoever the culprit is, just because it's them.

Thank you for the ask, and see you on Friday!

[lucky-clover-gazette]

okay i have THOUGHTS about this line

he didn’t have to say that to make his plan work. i mean yeah, being nice to the player definitely earns their favor and future assistance, but he could have just as easily gone the route of gaslighting them into feeling bad and like they caused the problem, eliciting a more shame-based and desperate and less uplifting and righteous kind of reliance. like if volo really hated the player, and was truly cruel, that’s what he would have done. the player would have still gotten the chain and felt indebted to him for the plate hunt, but they also would be miserable and feel lonely and hurt and confused. but volo doesn’t do that, he grounds the player and validates their feelings, which were hurt by the cruel townspeople more than the event volo caused to prompt that cruelty. like truly, it’s only volo’s fault that the player gets banished through the most like simple calculated logic—yes, if he hadn’t caused the rift, they wouldn’t have been banished, or brought here at all. but kamado CHOSE to banish them based on his own paranoia and disdain for outsiders, and the others enabled it by choice. volo didn’t make that happen, just how he didn’t make or even want arceus to get the player involved in the first place.

i don’t think volo hates the player, personally, at all. or at least, i think that he hates them and cares for them just as much as he hates and cares for himself. i know this isn’t groundbreaking volo theorizing material, but he’s absolutely projecting his disdain for society based on his vague past experiences here. he dislikes the outsider because his plan demands it, but he dislikes everyone else because he personally thinks they’re terrible. it’s kinda neat how he “fake” compliments the player’s loyalty to him as a merchant so often, bc i think loyalty is something he actually takes very seriously. and he probably saw how loyal the player was to the galaxy team, and then the way they kicked them out, and was genuinely pissed and hurt on the player’s behalf.

the things he says at the end of the game are said in extreme distress and defeat, and while they are not NOT reflective of his character and motives, i’m shocked by how many pokemon fans regard volo like he’s a nihilistic and amoral sociopath. passion and compassion are behind nearly everything volo does, for better or for worse. they’re behind moments like this, and moments like his ranting at spear pillar. he is a person who constantly grapples to align his personal moral code and lofty ideals, which live in this weird space between the manmade and divine, with the flawed reality of existence. his entire mentality is full of contradictions, because he is a man who thinks he should be god, but in reality could never be a good god, because he is still very much a man. it’s the emotion, idealism, and intellectual curiosity of humanity that drive him, not the impartiality, absolutism, and complacency of an omnipotent all-knowing deity.

so like, with this line. he specifically mentions that the galaxy team has treated the player poorly. not that the galaxy team’s choice was illogical, not that the player just needs to try harder to get them to accept him. he is emphatically rejecting the premise that the player did anything to deserve blame, even though he has no intention to actually explain why this really happened or volunteer himself to take the blame. because ultimately, volo is not the person to blame for the galaxy team’s cruelty, and he knows it. and he also knows that it’s the cruelty that has hurt the player, more than the sky problem itself, because he has been treated like an outsider too. and he can’t DO anything about that. even if he told the truth, the damage has already been done. the player knows how their supposed allies would react in this situation, regardless of the logic or truth. and volo can’t fix that. he does not believe he can make people kinder or the world a better place, which is exactly why he wants so badly to remake it. for himself, bc clearly he’s been through some shit too, for people like the outsider, and for anyone else whose loyalty and dedication have been met with rejection and apathy. which is so deeply tragic and ironic, because by being the only person to care for the player in this moment, he is making the world a better place for them.

volo is, at his core, a hypocrite. he’s like if you put the ingredients for a hero into a blender, but accidentally used the “tragic hypocrite” setting so he came out a janky villain instead. to volo, concepts like loyalty and self-righteousness are driving forces, much moreso than simple black and white morality or consequentialism. this makes him a hypocrite because he believes a perfect world is possible as long as his moral code is strictly followed, and his evil plan is to prove it. but in his efforts to do so, he proves over and over again that a perfect world isn’t possible, and certainly would not be possible under his control.

like, okay—if someone suggested that the means of pain and suffering in the world justified the ends (the world), volo would disagree and claim that arceus is responsible for the pain and suffering, and therefore does not deserve the power to create/rule worlds. but then, following that very same logic, if volo needed to get a random person banished and betrayed in order to create his better world, then those means wouldn’t justify his ends either. which is WHY we see him subconsciously draw a line here, between the things he’s not responsible for (other people being cruel, arceus transporting the player) and the things he is directly responsible for (the way he treats the player in these circumstances, either with derision or support). and wouldn’t you know, in this instance where it truly is up to him what the means are to his ends, he chooses kindness where he could have been cruel. because while arceus sending the hero and the town banishing them weren’t really Volo’s means to Volo’s ends, this conversation sure as hell could be. And he doesn’t want his better world built on a foundation of suffering and pain.

by saying this one line and treating the player as he does here, i think volo accidentally exposes something deeply true and good about himself. this man could say “i’m a villain and i don’t care about the player” and fully believe it, but at the same time demonstrably possess the morals and compassion of a hero, which he uses to actively care for the player. he is a delusional hypocrite, but he’s definitely not heartless. and i just think that’s neat.

alternatively, volo is completely heartless, knows that people are endeared to people who want to protect them, and methodically uses that knowledge here for his convenience. that very well could have been the intention, and it makes sense too—but i personally enjoy entertaining the notion of depth where i see potential for it. so yeah.