#i can’t even decide if i like this but. whatever.

[seumyo]

a softie for sentimentality, bakugou katsuki.

Bakugou wears a bracelet. You’ve known about it for as long as you could remember, but only decided to acknowledge it now that you’re in your third year at UA, two weeks before graduation.

It wasn’t flashy or adorned with any kind of logo—just a simple, sturdy piece of metal with a stainless clasp that he seemed to wear all the time. You tilted your head as you studied it.

“You’ve had that bracelet for as long as I can remember,” you said, sitting down on his study chair. It’s a privilege to even set foot inside of his room without immediately being told (yelled) off, really.

Bakugou looked up from his book and glanced at you. “Yeah, and?”

“Is there, like, a story behind it?”

“No story,” he said with a shrug, but you weren’t entirely convinced.

“Really? That’s so bland. I thought there’d be like a gut-wrenching or life-changing story for it.”

He sat up from his bed with a huff, his eyes narrowing at you. “It’s just somethin’ I wear. What’s it to you?”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a playful smile on your lips. “Alright, Mr. Mysterious. Keep your secrets.”

“Fuck off, dipshit.”

“Again with that! Why can’t you be nicer now that we’re graduating?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

-

But the conversation stuck to you.

It’s the day of graduation when you presented him with a small, handmade box. It was simple, made of sturdy cardboard decorated with his signature colors and an orange ribbon to match. Bakugou rose a brow.

“What’s this for?” He asks, holding it up like the box might explode at any given moment, though there was no bite to it.

“A box.”

“No shit,” he scoffs, “what’s in it?”

“Open it to find out!” You egged him on.

Bakugou sighs, opening the box with a focused pout. He went quiet when he saw what was inside.

“Ta-da! A bracelet,” you said, smiling. “For you. Thought you could use something new to switch things up.”

He held the stringed bracelet in his hand, looking at the material as if it would erupt in flames if he glared hard enough. It was a stark contrast to his metal one—brightly colored warm complementary beads with little charms that somehow still managed to feel like him. There was a red charm shaped like an explosion, a black bead with a skull design, and a small silver charm with an engraved kanji for “strength.”

“I’m not wearing this,” he said flatly.

It’s like your cartoonish heart balloon had suddenly been popped with a prickly needle.

“What? Why not? It’s cool!” you argued. “I even made it myself to really match you!”

“It’s not my style.”

“Sure it is. Look, it’s got black, silver, and even a little red—it screams Bakugou Katsuki.”

“I didn’t get you anythin’ as a parting gift,” he tells you.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s fine,” you replied, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just thought this’ll go with your metal bracelet.”

He nodded, though there was a somewhat frustrated pout on his expression, muttering something under his breath a soft “thanks,” and placed the gift back in the box, never actually letting you see him wearing it during that moment.

-

Years later, during a photoshoot for the yearly hero gala, Bakugou stood in front of the camera in his full Dynamight suit. The photographer adjusted the lights, snapping rapid shots as Bakugou struck his signature confident poses.

“Hold still,” the stylist said, adjusting his gauntlet slightly. Her eyes flicked to his wrist, and she paused. “Oh, that’s cute. Is that handmade?”

Bakugou blinked, following her gaze. Wrapped around his wrist, right next to his ever-present metal bracelet, was the colorful string bracelet you had made him all those years ago.

He stiffened slightly, but instead of taking it off, he shrugged. “Yeah. What about it?”

The stylist smiled warmly. “It’s a nice touch. Makes you seem... approachable. And quite frankly, it matches your suit.”

Bakugou snorted. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

-

When the photos surfaced online, fans quickly noticed the bracelet. Social media practically exploded that day.

Is Dynamight wearing a friendship bracelet??

A HANDMADE BRACELET ON DYNAMIGHT??

Guys, he’s worn this thing for YEARS. Check the old pictures! 🙂‍↔️

You, of course, caught wind of the news—because honestly, who wouldn’t when it took all social media platforms by storm? You saw the posts one evening while scrolling through your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the photos. It was unmistakable—the bracelet you had made all those years ago.

Long after your UA days were behind you and your lives had taken you and Bakugou down different paths, the all-too-familiar bracelet made you smile sadly—more nostalgic happiness than actual sadness, really.

You stared at the screen, sighing quietly. You thought back to the last time you’d spoken, to the unspoken decision that had pulled you in different directions. You never thought something as small as a bracelet would still mean anything to him.

You didn’t even think you’d live to see the day he wears it, much less keep it after the years.

But there it was, bright and unapologetic on his wrist, a subtle reminder of a bond that hadn’t completely faded with time.

Somewhere across the city, Bakugou stood on a rooftop, the evening wind tugging at his hero uniform. He glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist, running his thumb over the frayed edges of the string. He smirked to himself, a quiet acknowledgment of the past and the person who’d given it to him.

“Guess you were right,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. “It does scream Bakugou Katsuki.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys and reader doing the hear me out cake trend and reader pulls out a picture of Bruce when he was in his prime.

Apologies anon but this trend…Do not get me started on how misconstrued the phrase ‘hear me out’ is. I’ll rant about how a lot of ppl should look up the definition first. I’m very passionate about how butchered the trend is that every time I see one I can’t help but think ‘not a hear me out, try again or don’t to save my small remnants of sanity.’ I hate it so much.

Dick

Pouts.

‘My dad? Really?’ He’d ask you.

‘Yeah, what can I say he was a total hunk.’ You shrugged.

‘Was?!’ Dick replied, looking at you as though you had grown a second head. ‘What is he now then chopped liver? Do you not like older men?! Do they loose their charm the moment they have a few grey hairs and lines on their face?!’ He exclaims.

This wasn’t what you were expecting when doing this challenge because now you were being grilled by dick on whether you’ll still feel attractive to him when he himself gets old and grey.

‘I don’t have anything against older men dick, I just find your dad hot in this specific picture.’ You defended yourself and dick only puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a firm squeeze as he presses his forehead against yours.

‘Sweetheart I don’t think you understand because what do you mean you find him hotter in the picture?! It’s Bruce the man is just naturally photogenic!’ Dick tells you. ‘You could’ve chosen a recent picture of Bruce and say the exact same thing.’

‘Eh, it’s not the same thing.’ You say and dick felt as though he might as well rip his hair from his head because what do you mean it’s not the same thing?! He was now more certain that you didn’t like older men if Bruce was only appealing to you in his youth, his supposed prime.

Needless to say the conversation diverted from the fact that you found his dad hot, to one where dick was trying to prove to himself that you just didn’t like older men/ silver foxes for whatever absurd reason.

Jason

He’s oddly silent.

You feared you did something the moment you pulled the picture of young Bruce Wayne out to put on the cake.

The wait was over the moment he did decide to say something but it was nothing like you’d expect to come out of his mouth;

‘Out of all the pictures there are of Bruce, that’s the one you picked? Nothing about that picture is flattering to him in any way whatsoever.’

‘Oh you’re just jealous.’ You’d tell him and Jason only raises his brow at you.

‘Jealous, babe have you seen me? What’s there to be jealous of that old bat.’ Jason replies as he gestures towards himself before pinching your cheeks. ‘I just think it’s adorable how you consider Bruce in his prime as a hear me out, it’s laughable really but you do you chipmunk.’ He adds.

However when you weren’t looking, he’d take the picture of Bruce from the cake and throw it over his shoulder, for there was no way in hell he was going to have a picture of Bruce on a cake. No sir, Jason would much rather die again than allow his own father to overstay his welcome on the damn cake.

He’d even act innocent when you would ask where the picture went as though he didn’t set it on fire with a lighter after plucking it off the cake. ‘It must’ve grew legs and walked off.’ He’d shrug but it wasn’t hard to know the truth.

His dad can fuck off away from the cake and you.

Damian

Another one who’s not so amused by the fact that you added his father on a ‘hear me out’ cake.

He doesn’t partake in such stupid trends that’ll sooner or later long forgotten by the public consciousness in favour of a new trend that’ll run itself to the ground just as quickly as the last. He questions the publics attention span if it was this short and unreliable, he really does and fears that the age of stupidity has begun with people who think a conventional attractive man with a Roman nose or any other unique feature is a ‘hear me out.’

As if they were any less attractive than a man with a plain featured, and rather unappealing and basic appearance. They’re weren’t, if anything people with romantic noses or any other unique features were just as attractive as the plained featured ones, and Damian found it rather ridiculous that is what is being considered a secrete that many think they’ll be judged for finding appealing.

‘My father? Really?’ He’d say as he looked between you and the picture of his father.

‘Yeah.’ You shrugged.

Damian only sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘A conventionally attractive man is you hear me out?’

‘Not just any conventionally attractive man-‘ you tried to explain but Damian didn’t allow you the space to do so.

‘My father in his prime doesn’t count, you should really do better research before putting random people on a cake, or better yet don’t partake in a challenge you don’t understand.’ Was all Damian said before he leaves the room, he’s not impressed and feared that there was too many people who for some stupid reason also though his father in his prime is a ‘hear me out.’

It freaks him out and disappoints him greatly of what the future of Gotham and humanity as a whole would look like if these people were to be at the helm.

Tim

Not amused.

He’s sick and tired of people putting conventional attractive people and anthropomorphic animals who are drawn in a specific way to elicit such emotions out of people.

So to see that you had put his father, more specifically Bruce in his first steps as the dark knight, he couldn’t help but look at you disappointedly.

One, you obviously didn’t understand the concept of a hear me out and Tim is more then ready to educate you on what one is with his long ass PowerPoint presentation. And two, really? His dad? What was wrong with his dad in his current old age? Did you have something against older men?

Wait- why was he so suddenly concerned whether or not you find his father less appealing now than how he looked in his prime? He should be more focused on the fact that you found such pristine picture of Bruce during that time, he’s tried multiple times but the resolution was god awful and didn’t do anything to flatter Bruce.

You’re still getting lectured on what a proper hear me out is though. Tim’s got fucking tons.

[wstviewvidal]

pas de deux- w. maximoff

summary: who knew a four year old could be your wingman

pairing: rich!wanda x r

a/n: hi beautiful ppl! second part of dc is here! i have nothing to say except we love valerie

dirty cash masterlist

minors do not interact

it’s been two weeks since the word spill incident— as your friend likes to call it. two weeks since wanda maximoff has occupied your mind like an uninvited guest you can’t get rid of. two weeks of face-palming yourself after replaying the conversation you two had at the bar.

your friend definitely hasn’t let you live it down either. you two were on a call a few days ago where she decided it was the perfect time to remind you that you were an idiot and how you practically told wanda that her organization was terrible and didn’t serve a true purpose— and she was right.

part of you wishes you could find a way to reach out to her to apologize and make amends, but the other part of you feels she’s already forgotten about you and your foolish remarks. maybe that was the truth— maybe wanda had already forgotten about you.

you shake off the overwhelming thoughts and take in a deep breath before you exit your car with the bouquet of pink flowers from the passenger seat. tonight wasn’t about you or your overthinking— it was about your niece. valerie had been begging you to come to her ballet recital for weeks, and how could you say no to the curly haired girl with big brown eyes and an overly convincing pout?

so, here you were for the little girl with a bouquet just about the same size as her.

you weren’t much of a ballet or theater kid growing up, but your niece had a true love for the stage— the dramatics of it all and who were you to not support her? her enthusiasm for the art had been unexpected, but you couldn’t help but admire her for it.

your niece is the light of your life and you often find yourself always agreeing to whatever she asks. she has you wrapped around her tiny finger, not that you mind.

the auditorium is buzzing with chatter and excitement as you get in line alongside parents to enter the theater. you glance around and smile softly while holding the flowers close— this isn’t your crowd, but the reminder that it’s for your niece is what pushes you through.

while the line inches forward, you put your phone on do not disturb. heels click behind you as you replay the last time you came to her performance. you don’t pay mind to the sound that’s getting closer until you feel a soft tap on your left shoulder.

you turn around and low and behold is the woman who’s lived in your mind for the past two weeks, wanda.

your eyes widen just the slightest bit and wanda grins at your surprised expression. “and here i was thinking i’d never see you again,” she says, light laughter filling the air between you two.

you blush almost instantly and smile widely at her, “wanda! hi, how are you? what are you doing here?”

wanda subtly looks you over, admiring your casually put together outfit, “i’m better now that i’m seeing you,” you try to hide an even deeper blush, “this is one of the schools that my company sponsors— we help out with the after school programs. i wanted to come out and see the recital.”

wanda speaks with pride, something you’ve grown to admire about her—her genuine love for what she does. maybe you were wrong in doubting her and her company.

wanda looks down to the flowers in your hands and tilts her head in curiosity, “do you always carry around bouquets this big or is there someone special here tonight?”

“my niece is performing, i promised her i’d be here. she’s the only one who can boss me around and get away with it.” you gesture to the pink flowers in your hand and laugh a bit.

nodding along with a warm grin, she admires the flowers, “that’s really sweet. not everyone gets an adult like that in their lives.”

nodding to her statement as the line moves forward into the seating area and you turn to wanda, “you could sit with me if you’d like.”

you try to extend an olive branch to the businesswoman, the soft look in your eyes is making it impossible for wanda to say no.

“if that’s alright with you,” she follows alongside you to a seat in the middle of the auditorium.

what wanda didn’t tell you is that she normally has a specific reserved spot during these events in case she has to leave earlier than expected.

but sitting with you seems much nicer.

as the house lights begin to dim, wanda leans over and gestures to the flowers. “here, let me hold them and i’ll hand them back when you need them.”

you smile gratefully and hand them over to wanda with a soft thank you.

the classical track plays on the speakers and you can see the small children with their tutus filing in stage. your niece isn’t hard to spot, fourth from the right. you beam with pride as she spots you in the audience after scanning up and down for her aunt. wanda gazes at you with a flicker of admiration as you clap and cheer for the little girl who is dancing.

“there she is. that one’s mine, valerie,” you point to the small brunette with the slightly cooked bun and impossibly large grin plastered on her face.

she follows your direction, then turning back to you. wanda’s gaze lingers— not on your niece, but on you. there’s something in the way you light up when you watch the little girl that catches wanda off guard.

“beautiful.” she murmurs, so low you barely catch what she says.

perhaps wanda was foolish to think that of you already. maybe this is the reason she always finds herself in relationships with people who never truly see her for who she is— just what she can bring to the table.

or maybe it’s the way you treat wanda like a person worth getting to know that has her gravitating towards you. the way you lit up for your niece caught wanda off guard. she couldn’t remember the last time her heart rate sped up that fast at the sight of someone’s smile.

as the show comes to a close, the small children bow and wave to their respective adults. you turn to wanda with a laugh, “those kids are so much more entertaining than an actual professional dancers.”

wanda nods along with a chuckle, standing up with the bouquet, “oh, i absolutely agree. should we go find her?”

you nod and stand up after wanda, “yes please,” you tilt your head with a subtle teasing grin at wanda, “would you like to meet her?”

wanda’s heart beats a bit faster and she finds herself agreeing before she can even consider saying no. the softness in your voice and the way you tilt your head makes it hard to decline. so you two stand in the foyer as she holds the flowers while you scan for your niece.

the little girl comes out with a grin that almost covers her whole face, “auntie!” the little girl jumps into your arms and hugs you.

wanda observes the scene in front of her with loving eyes, the scene rich. she’s holding the flowers with a firm grip, like someone would come by and snatch them from her. why is she nervous to meet a four year old?

she has no idea, but she does know that her heart is racing.

maybe she’s already found herself in too deep way too early.

the little girl turns to wanda with a shy expression, giving a nervous wave as you introduce wanda to her.

“this is wanda,” you gesture to the taller woman next to you, “she’s our friend.”

wanda crouches down to your niece’s height with a friendly smile, “hi miss valerie,” she says softly, “you did amazing! you were the true star of the show.”

that won your niece over. she giggles and begins blabbering to wanda about how much she practiced and enjoyed getting ready. wanda is actively listening and conversing with the small girl, giving her complete attention to the tiny ballerina. it surprises you how easily the two have fallen into a comfortable conversation.

wanda’s eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments and you two smile warmly. there’s something unspoken there— something warm and genuine that lingers between the two of you.

your niece grabs wanda’s hand, “are you coming with us to dinner?” her big brown eyes looking up at wanda with a small pleading expression.

wanda hesitates for a second and looks over to you with a nervous look, while you laugh at the scene in front of you. “i told you she’s hard to say no to.”

the three of you arrive to a italian restaurant and wanda holds the door open for you two, her hand on the small of your back as she ushers you two inside while you hold the tiny girl’s hand. you’re sat in a booth, wanda across from the two of you who is enjoying talking to your niece about her favorite class and four year old drama.

“she’s normally a super shy kid,” you whisper to wanda in awe as the little girl is momentarily distracted with a breadstick.

wanda watches the little girl with a warm look in her eye then turns to you, “she’s like her aunt, hard to resist.”

you chuckle and playfully roll your eyes, turning back to the little girl to fix the small curls that have popped out of her bun. the warmth in wanda’s words make your heart flutter.

you three eat over a family style italian meal and when the waitress comes back to ask if you’d like dessert, you go to say no— but wanda turns to valerie with a sneaky grin.

“val, you want some cake?” wanda has a playful smirk. valerie’s eyes light up and she nods enthusiastically, the fallen out curls moving with her.

you turn to wanda with mock seriousness, “wanda, you’re spoiling her.”

immediately and with an almost flirtatious tone, wanda quips, “only fair if i spoil you too, don’t you think?”

that stumps you. you blush slightly and try to play it off by looking elsewhere, but the teasing smirk on wanda’s face tells you that she noticed the flush.

after dessert, your niece falls asleep on your lap while you converse with wanda.

“she really likes you,” you say to wanda quietly as you look down to the brown haired girl in your lap, “i’m surprised she warmed up to you so quickly.”

a blush forms on wanda’s face, ever so faint that you almost miss it— almost.

“and her aunt? what about her?”

wanda’s low questioning tone brings a heat up to your cheeks that you so desperately wish wanda can’t see. the question catches you off guard, but you force yourself to meet wanda’s gaze, “maybe,” you say with a smirk, but your voice came out much softer thank intended.

there’s something in the way the two of you look at each other— something beyond whatever it is you two thought you had.

the waitress comes back with the check and you reach to your purse for your wallet, but wanda beats you to it and hands the check back to the waitress before you can even protest.

you look at wanda and speak with an exasperated sigh, “why did you pay? i was going to.” you partly feel guilty that wanda paid when it felt that you were the one who dragged her along.

wanda shrugs with nonchalance as she starts cleaning the table, “why not? you deserve a night out and so does the baby.”

wanda’s nonchalance and the way she’s taking charge surprises you, but you’re not hating it. there’s something comforting in the way she’s taking care of the two of you.

you still feel partly guilty and begin to help wanda pick up the table, “is there anything i can do to pay you back? i feel bad that we dragged you out with us, i’m sure you had other plans.”

wanda laughs and waves her hand dismissively, “you didn’t drag me, i chose to come with. and as for paying me back..”

wanda has a look in her eyes that only spells trouble and it makes you nervous, “my company is having a dinner next month. would you like to be my plus one?”

you’re caught off guard but just as you go to respond, the waitress comes back with the receipt.

“your daughter is the cutest thing, you two must be so proud. have a great night!” the waitress picks up the plates and moves on before you can ever correct her.

you look over at wanda and laugh a little bit, “sorry.” you pick up the sleeping girl in your arms and the two of you walk out to your respective cars.

wanda walks you to your car with a light hand behind your back, making sure you carry valerie safely as she checks the road for cars. the streetlights cast a soft glow over the parking lot, wanda’s protective instincts surprising you in the best way.

just as you two stop in front of your car, your niece wakes up and realizes it’s time to go.

“is auntie wanda leaving us now?” her tiny voice laced with tiredness as she reaches for wanda.

wanda is caught off guard with valerie’s words but works quickly to grab the little girl whose tiny hands are grabbing for her, “yeah, honey, i’m taking off. maybe if your auntie is sweet enough, we can go out to eat again.”

wanda takes a peek at you from behind valerie’s head with a playful pout. you nod softly to her silent request to see each other again. you admire the scene in front of you, the way wanda’s rocking the little girl in her arms and gazing at the four year old with pure joy.

wanda works quickly to get valerie in her car seat that is in the backseat of your car before she wakes up again.

she turns to you with a new look in her eyes, something comforting and touching. “she’s the sweetest thing, you know that? a lot like you.”

you giggle and roll your eyes, “whatever you say, wanda.”

you lean on your car and eye wanda as she pulls out her phone from her back pocket, “i meant what i said in there,” she gestures back to the restaurant, “i want you to come to the dinner with me. i promise it won’t be like the last time.”

at the mention of the past event, you groan as you put your phone number into her phone, “stop bringing it up.”

wanda laughs, a sound you are growing to love. “seriously though. i want you there with me.”

the way she says it, the way she looks at you with soft eyes, it all makes you giddy inside.

“i’ll see you,” wanda says as she puts her phone back into her pocket, giving you a warm smile before she turns back to begin walking to her car.

you watch wanda leave to her car from inside your own with a grin. just before you take off, you can hear your little girl from the back, “auntie, your girlfriend is really nice. i like her.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. you mentally thank valerie for convincing wanda to come to dinner with you two.

“she’s not my girlfriend, val,” you laugh at your niece’s assumption that you and wanda were dating.

she lets out a soft yawn and holds one of her stuffed animals close to her chest as she sits in your backseat, “but she could be.”

looking in your rear view mirror at your niece, you can’t help but be surprised at her words. how could a four year old possibly know about this stuff? you fight the urge to press your niece further about her knowledge, but decide against it.

arriving home, you carefully pull your niece out of her car seat and take her to your bed to sleep until her parents pick her up later. you press a small kiss to her forehead and let out a soft sigh at the memory of the conversation in the car.

staring at wanda’s contact as you sit on the couch, you can’t help but replay the day’s events over and over. the way she was gentle with valerie, the way she looked at you and took care of the both of you, and the small bashful smile she had when she asked you to be her plus one.

you type and erase several different messages until you decide on a fairly simple one to send to wanda.

thank you for tonight. valerie really likes you

you hit send and place your phone down before you choose to not send anything at all.

not even a whole minute passes before your phone buzzes with a new message.

she’s adorable.. just like her aunt

you bite your lip to keep from smiling like a fool at her text. her reply is short, but you can already hear her voice as if she was saying it out loud. she sends another text before you get the chance to type something out.

seriously, though. thank you for allowing me to tag along. i loved it. i really hope you’ll think about being my plus one next month

you mentally envision yourself with wanda, your stomach doing flips at the thought of you being by her all night. her gentle demeanor and hand guiding you through the night makes you smile foolishly.

i’ll think about it, i promise. goodnight, wanda

you type out the response and hit send quickly before you get the chance to talk yourself out of it.

goodnight, you

maybe your niece was onto something.

[m0llygunn]

'tis the season (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: your sweet neighbour addresses a christmas card to both you and eddie — the only issue? she's never met eddie... so how does she know his name? eddie decides that 'tis the season for all your neighbours to know his name

cw: 18+!, christmas adjacent but you don't have to celebrate, smut, oral, fingering, pinv sex, idk mentions of dying of embarrassment, friends with benefits to more (slightly ambiguous ig) an: just a quick lil thing!!! if you liked it pls tell me or i'll pass away from lack of attention wc: 2.4k+

You didn’t think twice about it — a Christmas card that your next door neighbour dropped off to your apartment, addressed to both you and Eddie. 

You should have thought twice about it — because you’ve never introduced lovely Mrs. Mabel to Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t necessarily show up to your apartment during the day time.

What you and him do… it’s more of a night time thing. You call him — sometimes he calls you — and then he drives over. Sometimes you pretend you need something fixed, sometimes it’s a jar lid that's stuck, one time it was your bedside table that was jammed — but him coming over to introduce himself to your 70 year old neighbour is highly, highly unlikely. 

So when you got the card, maybe you should have thought twice about why his name was on it — but you didn’t. You were on your way out and Mrs. Mabel had left it taped to your door. You slid it into your purse, and then when you got home, you had put it down on your countertop with the thought of opening it after putting away the few groceries you had bought.

Then you just forgot about it for the night. A candle was lit, the lights were dimmed, and Eddie was speed dialed. 

When he showed up, you were pouring drinks for the two of you in your kitchen — that’s when he saw the card. 

“Oh?” he hummed, smiling as he slid his finger along the edge of the rustic brown coloured envelope, picking it up. “What's this?”

“Oh yeah!” you remembered. “Mrs. Mabel dropped that off earlier, I forgot to open it. It's a christmas card,” you beamed. 

“Well, good thing you waited. It’s addressed for both of us,” he winked. 

You didn’t understand the wink. 

You didn’t understand why he was so smug either, and you didn’t ask, you were too distracted by the kitschy card, with drawings of cats wearing Santa hats wishing you and Eddie a ‘Meowy Christmas’ and a ‘Purrfect New Year’. 

It was only after drinks were drunk, your bedroom was visited, and Eddie said something odd, that you started to question what exactly he meant. 

His skin was still dewy where you laid your head on his chest. Both of your breaths were labored. His hand was splayed across your back, feeling extra warm. 

“So… I take it that all your neighbours know my name?” He said it like he was teasing you. You didn’t understand why, but it seemed loaded.

“No? Why would they all know your name?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, and you could hear the mischief in his smile. He was up to something, but your eyelids were heavy, and his hand started to rub up and down your spine, and with the way your body vibrated, you could not have cared less. Whatever he was getting at could wait. 

And it did wait — one whole week. Then you finally understood, and you really cared — because what the fuck. 

He came over earlier than usual. He hadn’t even called, he just showed up, and with flowers. Flowers. Eddie doesn’t give you flowers, he gives you orgasms. That’s what you thought this thing was between the two of you — nothing more than late night hookups. Not flowers. 

And then he dropped the bomb that he was making you dinner. Dinner. He was being so sweet, and he brought you flowers, and he was making you dinner. You can’t even remember a time where you had seen him before the sun set. Flowers. Dinner.

As he found his way through your kitchen, he made sure to get in every little touch and graze possible, even ones that were so obviously unnecessary. Like when you were washing vegetables at the sink. He pressed himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, caging you in against the sink, washing his hands in the most inconvenient position ever. It was incredibly inefficient, and it got the front of your shirt wet, but that was another thing. He peeled your shirt off you right in the kitchen. With a giggle — because this whole ordeal had left you undeniably smitten — you complained that the cotton of your shirt was cold and stuck to you, so his solution was to spin you around and lift it right up from your waist, up your chest, and over your head. 

As the fabric passed over your face, you shut your eyes, only to open them to Eddie pressing a kiss to your lips. The shirt was thrown to the floor, his hands found your cheeks, and you were walked backwards until your bum pressed to the countertop. His body pressed to yours, his belt buckle jutting in the bare skin of your belly, his shirt sticking to the lace of your bra. He kissed you stupid right in the middle of your kitchen. 

When you thought you were moving onto the next part of the night — forgoing dinner and heading straight to the bedroom — you were wrong. 

“What’ya doing?” he murmured against your mouth. You had reached around him, blindly finding and spinning the burner off. 

“Making sure my apartment doesn’t burn down.”

“It won’t. We’re right here.” He pressed a string of new kisses to your lips, and you could feel his smile through every single one. 

Your makeout session did not move to the bedroom. 

When the timer went off, he parted from you with a final peck to your lips, and ‘for good measure’, another one to your cheek. From there on out, you… you were useless. Just a pair of wobbly legs being ordered around by a thoughtless brain. You spilled things, and knocked things over, and clattered dishes, and eventually Eddie put you on watch duty — or as he put it, ‘sit there and look pretty’ duty. 

It didn’t get better either. He kept looking at you. Looking at you with dark eyes that you know too well. Dark eyes that felt deeper than anything you’ve felt before. Dark eyes that made your stomach swirl and your thighs clench. Dark eyes that you wanted in the bedroom, right now. 

You tried to get him in the bedroom. From your spot sitting on the countertop, you tried to hook a pointed foot around his thigh as he stirred honestly over a steaming pan. You tried to give him the same eyes back. You tried — oh god, you tried. 

And you know what he did? He set the table. Lit a candle, set out glasses, lined up forks and knives. Got you a new shirt to wear. Filled your plates, got you both napkins, pulled your chair out for you. 

You wanted him more than anything. 

And then you got him. 

The table was never cleared. Clothes were shed before either of you were past your bedroom door. Your hands were tugging at his boxers, and you wanted to show him how much you appreciated his kindness — how much you enjoyed the impromptu flowers and dinner. 

He had other plans. 

He laid you down and spread you out. Put his mouth to use — held both your hands as he did it too. It had your chest squeezing in a soft way, and your hips moving in a way you could not control. 

“Eddie,” you moaned, as he licked at your sensitive spot, pushing you just over the point of too much pleasure. You already came once but he decided that you deserved much more than that. 

“Am I making you feel good?”

“Mhm, so good, Eddie — fuck,” you gasped as your pleasure quickly became overstimulating. He rearranged your intertwined mess of hands, taking both of yours in one of his, freeing up the other to move down your body and meet his mouth at your core. 

Two fingers were pushed into your already convulsing cunt. You barely had a moment to come down, and he was barreling past that point, moving you onto your next orgasm. His fingers curled, and your whole body tensed.

“Eddie — E-Eddie,” you said, voice rising as your hips began to buck, thighs jerking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Eddie,” you whined, like it was a real answer and not just his name. Like he should know what he's doing to you — and he does, but to your ignorance, this is exactly what he wants.

“I know — I know, feels good, huh?”

And it did. His fingers felt great, but him properly filling you up felt better. As soon as he sunk his length into you, you were a goner. 

With your legs folded, ankles sitting over his shoulders, blankets gathered where you fisted them in your hands, and your toes curled tightly, Eddie fucked you. Sincerely, amorously, hard.

Every snap of his hips to yours, every crude, wet noise, every creak of the bed, was hidden well beneath the way you panted and whined — and Eddie just goaded you on.

“Yeah? Right there? That's where it feels good?”

“Yes, right — right there,” you answered devotedly.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me how you want it,” he grunted, bringing a soft hand to your cheek and running it upwards, pushing back the baby hairs on your forehead. 

“Harder,” you answered, meeting his gaze. 

“Harder…?’ He smiled, trailing off to prompt you. Just as he did, he let his hips find yours with extra vigour, grinding upwards into you, his cock pressing right against your g-spot with the perfect angle to get a full-body reaction from you. He continued, rolling his hips in a quick rhythm, giving you exactly what you asked for, harder. 

“Eddie,” you gasped, body being pressed up the mattress with the sheer force of his thrust. 

“You like saying my name don’t you? Hm? Sounds so pretty when you say it.”

You should have put it together right there. But you didn’t. You just got louder.

“Eddie — fuck — Eddie!”

“I know. I got you, baby,” he replied, eyes never leaving your face as he purposefully did exactly what he needed to do to get his intended reaction from you. 

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

One final press of his pelvis to your sensitive clit, one final graze of his cock to that special spot inside of you, one final gasp of his name, and you were coming. Coming harder than you had tonight, harder than you ever had in your whole life. 

You wished you could have stayed in that moment forever. 

Pleasure coursing through you, spreading everywhere from your ten fingers to your ten toes, your mind blank apart from the pure adoration you had for the man who laid overtop of you, cumming inside of you at that very moment. The man who surprised you and brought you flowers and cooked you dinner. 

Oh, and not to mention how, in that moment, you were so blissfully ignorant to a spectacularly embarrassing fact. So naive, so ignorant. So stupid. 

Eddie was a sweetheart. Continued to be a sweetheart, actually. After giving the two of you time to settle, he eventually got up, helped clean you up, cleaned himself up, and then got back into bed with you to cuddle. Cuddling has been a normal thing for the two of you, but his smile as he cozied up close to you, with the way his lips rounded at the corners, and his dimples were so deeply set, it was not the normal, bliss-filled, post-orgasm smile. It was different, it was mischievous, and a touch unsettling. 

“What?” you eventually caved, smiling back at him as he gave you a dramatic side eye paired with a raised brow — he's been waiting for you to ask him what's on his mind. 

He grinned at you, canines poking out with all his glee. He dropped his head to your fluffed pillow, tugged you in closer, and looked at you like he was about to spill some hot, gossipy pillowtalk. 

“Think all your neighbours know my name now?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, weaving together in the centre, because what does that have to do with anything? ‘What?’ sat on the tip of your tongue, but just as he wiggled his brow, giving you a pointed look, waiting for you to put it all together, it finally hit you. It hit you like a brick to the head. A brick to the head off of a three story building. Beyond painful. 

The reason Mrs. Mabel, dear, sweet, elderly, Mrs. Mabel knew Eddie’s name to write it on your Christmas card: thin walls, his talent, your loud mouth. 

“No,” you gasped, jaw dropping.

“No?” He scrunched his forehead upwards, eyes widening, leaning in even closer to you to absorb the full extent of your shock. “Because I think they do,” he smirked, voice rising with amusement. Finding your waist under the blankets, he curled his fingers into your flesh. You squirmed, grabbing his hand and holding him still. This is serious. 

“Eddie,” you frowned, squeezing his hands before pushing them out from under the blankets and away. He let you, watching you through bright eyes, loving every minute of your humiliation. 

“Yes, sweetheart, that is my name,” he practically sang. 

“That’s so embarrassing.” You let your body shrink into the mattress, turning to hide your face in the pillow. You whined out a long groan, ridding your body of every ounce of breath in your lungs. If you were a lucky person, you would have suffocated. Died right there and rid yourself of all your mortal shame. 

“Nobody complained, I think they’re fine with it.” His hand became a heavy weight of your waist, coaxing you out from the pillow while rubbing your back.

“I’m not fine with it,” you said abruptly, nearly giving yourself whiplash as you turned your neck to look at Eddie. “Mrs. Mabel… she… she — ”

Eddie finished your sentence — “She gave us a Christmas card. She’s not upset,” he smiled, leaning in once again, this time to press a kiss to your forehead. 

He's wrong. You know it, but you don't have the will to fight it. So instead you rolled your eyes, sighing as you laid your head back down to your pillow. 

“You’re so annoying.”

“Oh really?” Eddie teased, his mischievous tone contradicting the gentle way he pulled the blanket up for you, covering your shoulders and tucking it under your chin. “I don’t recall me being annoying a few minutes ago?” He took a deep inhale. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie —” he began to chant, voice pitched up mockingly, volume way too loud. 

“Shush,” you scolded him, jumping forward, fighting to free your arms from the blanket to smack both of your hands over his mouth. His voice vibrated behind your palms, and his laughter stuck to your skin as you forcibly shut him up. 

Your neighbours clearly already knew his name, but if they didn’t, they definitely do now.

thank you for reading! happy holidays <333333

[rafesangelita]

…SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER AU

⋆𐙚₊˚🍺⊹♡

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who spend a lottt of time in the back seat of his cop car. they have an age gap that would raise all kinds of alarm if the people of the small town they resided in ever found out. sheriff!rafe is beefy, his muscles bulging through every shirt he wears. farmer’s!daughter!reader is too busy raising hell all around town in hopes that someone calls the police station so rafe can handcuff her and get her act cleaned up. “you can’t just go actin’ a fool whenever you feel like screwin’ i mean it!” he’s pulling her underwear up her thighs as she lays face down against his leather seats, completely fucked out. “whatever you say, dad.” rafe is groaning at her words as he uncuffs her. “yeah? i oughta’ take you home right now then and let him know about all the trouble you been gettin’ into.”

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who go on their dates in the next town over so they don’t run the risk of being caught by any locals. farmer’s!daughter!reader who teases rafe all the time, calling him an ‘old man’ and saying he’s a perv for entertaining her antics. “there’s a motel not too far from here.. just ‘sayin.” there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips, the older man in front of her looking unamused. “you’re suggesting that i take you to a motel and you’re callin’ me a perv? get outta here.” despite his faux disinterest, they end up checking into the said motel for the night, his stomach slapping against her clit as he fucks her into oblivion on the dingy mattress of the cheap room. sheriff!rafe who actually knows farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father very well, both of them going all the way back to their high school days.

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who can’t stand each other sometimes. rafe is scolding her, telling her that she shouldn’t be wearing those ‘godforsaken’ shorts of hers since it draws a lot of the wrong attention. “you’re just mad because jj maybank is wondering what color panties i have on..” she’s leaning into the window of his cop car, his jaw clenching as he eyed the scruffy looking blonde who stood not too far away, shot gunning hot beers with his friends. “mad at the ‘maybank kid? please, darlin’ he’s a joke.” she’s laughing at his words, getting close to his ear before whispering; “i’m glad you think so, because i’m about to go over there and tell him i’m not wearing any..” that sets rafe off and it isn’t long before he’s slamming jj down against the hood of his car and arresting him for underaged drinking..

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who are such polar opposites, even they don’t understand how they work together. sheriff!rafe has a rough exterior, seemingly cold, closed off and never smiles, whereas farmer’s!daughter!reader is dancing on tables in bars she shouldn’t even be at, and being a little minx to see how many free drinks she can get out of the regulars. so much so, that rafe started patrolling around town at night so he could stop her from doing something stupid. and of course, without fail, he’s getting a radio call saying there’s been a report of a quote, unquote ‘young woman resisting arrest and assaulting an officer.’ and rafe is arriving onto the scene almost immediately, cursing under his breath when he see’s her being held down by at least four of his men in uniform.

SHERIFF!RAFE X FARMER’S!DAUGHTER!READER who eventually have to get serious with one another, both of them knowing that what they have is anything but casual. sheriff!rafe who doesn’t know how to go about it, so he decides it’s best to just be blunt. “so uhm— what do ‘ya say to moving out of your pop’s and living with me instead?” farmer’s!daughter!reader is staring at him from across the table at their favorite diner. “what?” she’s frozen, holding her knife over her plate of fluffy pancakes. “are you serious?” rafe is nodding as he takes a cigarette out of his pocket, placing it between his lips. “yeah, but this rowdy act of yours needs to stop. m’not gonna have you actin’ reckless if i’m the one taking care of you.” he doesn’t have to tell her twice before she’s nodding, throwing her arms around the grumpy sheriff before pressing kisses to his cheek.

[mononijikayu]

blue — fushiguro megumi.

As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence. It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter. It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you. It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Long Distance Romance (LDR), Aged Up Characters (Megumi and Reader are 18!), Young Love, Innocent Romance, Established Relationship, Middle School Classmates to Lovers, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Holding Hands;

WORD COUNT: 5.3k words.

NOTE: im a bit late, i'm sorry!!! i had a whole list of chores i helped my family with and i met up with some people yesterday, since i might not see them for christmas due to schedules. but i'm here. i always imagined megumi to be the sort of person who loves so wholeheartedly and so innocently. i wanted to capture that for his birthday. happy birthday, megumi!!! you will always be so loved by me <33333 i love you all too!!! thank you for reading!!! see you for yuuji's own fic on 24th <3 (asia time)

addendum: i just want you to know that the exact number of the words are 5302. chinese/cantonese numerology expresses that 53 means my life, 0 means good and 2 means joy and sometimes double joy. it reads as 'my life is good joy' and i think between them reader and megumi, that's genuinely true <333

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

THE DARK BLUE SWIRLED AROUND THE SKY TENDERLY TONIGHT. Had there been more time, he would have enjoyed it more. But he knew there wasn’t. He had to get to you, immediately. He bit his lip softly against the cold winter wind.

Fushiguro Megumi tugged the bright tender scarf tighter around his neck as the frigid wind bit at his cheeks. He caught a faint whiff of the fabric, and something about the scent felt... off.

It’s a good scent, don’t get him wrong. But it wasn’t the familiar one he was used to. Had he bought a new perfume and just forgotten about it? 

He sighed to himself. He was too busy lately, going off on missions. And now a lot of his life had become footnotes, even if he didn’t want them to be. Megumi knew he had to do better.

He had to do whatever he could to make a better pace for himself. Still, thinking about that right now is impossible. He had to brush the thought aside. There were more pressing things to focus on—like how late he was. Again. 

Megumi could only hope that you weren’t waiting too long or that you had arrived late. But now he can’t help but think if you wore that thick Arc'teryx coat he’d gotten you. Or if you wore mittens or had enough hot packs on your body at this moment. Guilt started to echo into his head as easily as it was breathing. But he can’t help but feel that.

He took a moment to breathe, his breath visible in the cold air. He hated being late about absolutely anything. He likes punctuality, after all. But he especially likes it when it comes to you.

Because that meant he’d have more time with you. And more time with you means that he’d have you with him enough to sweep the thought of missing you for a little while. 

But being a sorcerer, the job description didn’t care about holidays or plans. Or even the personal, the thoughts and moments that made one happy. It just never stops. Not even when he was supposed to take you out on a date on New Year’s Eve. Megumi absolutely reviled it. If he saw a curse, he had to deal with it, no matter the time. 

And somehow, some sort of way, still, he knew you understood. You always did. You always reassured him of that no matter what. No matter how many times his responsibilities pulled him away from you, even just for five minutes.

You never stopped smiling when he finally showed up. You don’t stop having the warmest red on your cheeks when you see him. Your eyes always shone brighter than Sirius when you both stand beside one another.

Even though you weren’t a sorcerer yourself, you tried to understand his world, even the parts that didn’t make sense to you at all. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew it. Yet, no matter how hard things got, you never gave up on him. You just didn’t want to, even when he had tried to keep you at bay. 

That was one of the things he appreciated most about you. Megumi had never had quite a lot of joy in his life, but he was to be honest, you were one of them. You always will be. And even now, you stand by him, even if it’s hard.

You didn’t care for the hard stuff, you always said it was part of it. Because what mattered to you, was having him in your life. And he was certain he felt the same way about you.

Well, it’s obvious.

Why else would he start running in this cold winter weather?

If it’s you, the person he loved most, then he’ll find a way?

After all, he wanted to be with you for as long as possible.

He paused for a moment, staring at the message. The small emoji made something in his chest tighten, as much as it made his body feel the warmest it had ever been. Despite everything, you still cared enough to wait for him, to worry about him. A small, rare smile tugged at his lips.

The faint vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket, his cold fingers fumbling slightly as he unlocked it. A text from you lit up his screen:

“Megu, baby, where are you? 🥺”

Megumi stared at his phone after hitting send, watching the little delivered mark appear. Megumi has thought about how many times he’d sent similar texts, always apologizing to you, for more often than he hoped, about being late.

He typed back quickly, his fingers stiff from the cold.

"On my way, babe. Sorry for being late."

Yet, you never seemed to hold it against him. He wished you had. Most romantic partners would be so fed up with such a position. 

Hell, most of them would have already left their partners. But not you. You never had thought of it, not even during middle school, when Gojo started to take him on his missions to observe. You were steadfast, because you saw his efforts. You saw how much he loved you. 

And that was enough. He never had to doubt that you loved him. And perhaps, that’s why he kept running. He wanted to get to you, as soon as possible. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hold you in his arms. He wanted to love you.

As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, Fushiguro Megumi picked up his pace. He had to. He had to arrive as soon as possible. For once, he hoped the world could hold its chaos at bay. Just for tonight. He owed you that much. He owed you all of the world. And he had to make it possible, even if just for a little while.

His phone buzzed again almost immediately.

“Okay, but you better hurry, baby! It’s cold! Also… why does your scarf smell like my perfume? 🤔”

Megumi stopped in his tracks, his brain processing your words at a glacial pace. Your perfume? His hand instinctively went to the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. That was the weird smell he’d noticed earlier—the soft, floral notes he’d never associated with his usual scarf. His mind raced. If this was your perfume, then this wasn’t his scarf.

It’s your scarf. The realization hit him like a curse to the chest. Now, his heart was thumping hard on his chest. You must’ve grabbed his scarf  by mistake in a rush the last time you visited him and you forgot about it.

And now that left him with your scarf. And he hadn’t noticed at all. His face heated to warm scarlet instantly, the cold air doing nothing to cool it. Ah, this is…..

His grip on the phone tightened as he read your words. Cute. It was hard enough to deal with how much warmth you give him with your scarf, but the thought of you being so tender with him, loving to the point that he can’t take it.

Before he could come up with a reply, another message came through:

“Wait, Megu!… Are you wearing my scarf? 🥺 That’s so cute! Wah!”

He doesn’t know what to do. Everything about his love for you just grows deeper and he can’t help it. His face burned hotter, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft fabric around his neck.

He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back:

"I didn’t realize until now. I must’ve grabbed it by accident. Sorry."

Fushiguro Megumi felt like the temperature had risen ten degrees despite the snow swirling around him. He tried to clear his throat, trying to wick away the scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks. But it was no use. He was never going to win against you. Never. 

Your reply came almost instantly, as though you’d been waiting for it.

“Don’t apologize! I think it’s adorable. It’s like you’re carrying a little piece of me with you 🥰.”

"It’s not a big deal." he typed, trying to sound indifferent, but his fingers betrayed him as he hesitated before adding: "It does smell nice, though."

His phone buzzed almost immediately. “You’re so sweet, Megu! You better hurry so I can see you all bundled up in my scarf. I want to take a picture and enjoy the cuteness of my baby!🫶 ”

Fushiguro Megumi let out a soft groan, burying his face in the scarf—your scarf. He takes in the soft smell of your scent, while feeling your words take over him. He could feel the heat radiating from his face as he resumed walking, this time a bit faster. 

He can’t run in this case, not when he’s overwhelmed by this, by you. You’ve ruined him for any other romance. This was it for him. You were it for him. And yet still, he couldn’t believe he was blushing over a scarf. Over you.

But that’s how it is. It didn’t need explanation, it didn’t need logic. That’s how it is to love you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not ever. But still, as much as possible, he still wanted to play it cool.

There was a wonderfully warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t ignore, not when it’s caused by you. Even if it was accidental, wearing your scarf made him feel closer to you, like he was carrying a part of you with him.

"I’ll be there soon, babe." he texted back simply, though his heart was racing as he hit send.

“I look forward to it! 🫶”

“I'll see you soon.”

“Love you, Megu~”

".....love you too."

══════════════════

IT WASN’T THAT LONG NOW WHEN HE MADE THE SHARP TURN TO AND ARRIVED. The faint glow of the shrine came into view, and quite expectedly, Fushiguro Megumi’s pace quickened even more now despite the biting cold.

His own breath puffed in little warm clouds as he rounded the last corner, and there you were, just like always, waiting for him by the warm illumination of the bright red shrine gates.

You seemed to be humming to yourself as you waited for him, all  bundled up in the white winter coat he gave you and those bright purple gloves trimmed with faux fur you so dearly loved. You hadn’t noticed him yet when he stopped.

But when you did, your eyes widened almost so excitedly. There was a slightly excited bounce in your step as you waved at him enthusiastically, your beautiful face lighting up like the warm spring flowers blossoming when you started to register his presence. Megumi could feel his chest tightened at the sight. 

The stress of trying to get here on time, the hardship of not meeting, the times he missed you — every bit of that started to fade away into nothing. He was here with you. You were here. And nothing can take that away from him, from the two of you. Because he knew it too well. He was home. 

“Megu!” you called out, your tender voice cutting through the quiet winter air.

He slowed as he approached, his usual calm demeanor taking over, but the pink sunrise on his cheeks hadn’t faded. Megumi tried to casually stuff his rather cold hands into his coat’s pockets, pretending the cold was the only reason his face felt warm.

“You’re late, Megu!” you teased, though your tone was playful, and that familiar smile spread across your face.

“Sorry.” he said quietly, stopping just a few feet away. “There was a—”

“A curse?” you finished for him, watching him blink. You grinned. “I figured. You always come anyway.”

He nodded, his gaze flickering to the shrine gates. “I told you to wait here for a reason. It’s safer.”

“I know, I know.” you said, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “I always know that I’m always safe, thanks to you. But I’m also freezing, so I hope you don’t plan to keep me standing here much longer! Let’s eat dinner!”

Your grin widened as your bright doe eyes flicked to the scarf around his neck. “Especially since it looks like you’re nice and warm in my scarf.”

Megumi’s hand immediately went to the fabric, his ears turning red. “I told you, it was an accident.” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“And I told you, it’s cute.” you said, stepping closer. 

“You’re wearing my scarf too.” He mutters under the cold winter air. 

You looked down slightly, your cheeks flushing red as you smiled. “Hm! And I love it! It suits me, having a part of you with me always when I’m cold, don’t you think?”

Megumi was taken aback by what you said for a moment. His cheeks turned even redder, even though he wasn’t sure how it was possible. He hums softly, lowering his gaze shyly. “.....It does.”

The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound as you closed the distance between you. You smiled at him as you stopped in front of him. You reached up, on tip toes and gently adjusted your scarf around his neck, your fingers brushing against his skin for just a moment. 

“It suits you, don’t you think?” Your soft voice blossomed against the wind. Your gaze met his, as he raised his face. “Being so loved by me in winter cold too.”

He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the gesture. “You’re—you really are…..” he mumbled, though his voice was quieter, almost fond. “How can you say that so easily?”

“And you’re blushing, lover boy!” you teased, stepping back with a playful laugh. “You also said something like that too!”

“Am not.” he replied quickly, though the redness in his cheeks betrayed him.

“Whatever you say, my precious Megu~” 

You reached out and took his hand, your gloved fingers curling around his as you tugged him toward the shrine gates. You wanted to keep his hand warm from the cold too. He forgot his gloves, after all. And he knew that, his gaze turning to your tender touch on his, even though the leather.

“Come on, let’s get going before we both turn into icicles.”

For a moment, Fushiguro Megumi hesitated, looking down at your hand wrapped tightly on his own. Years together still hasn’t stopped him from being so awestruck by your touch on his.

To hold someone’s hand, it made him feel like he understood what love was like. Ever since that day he met you. You made him understand, with just a touch of your hand. And still, he continues to learn love, because of you. 

Megumi shook his head then he let out a soft sigh, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile as he followed you.Even if he’d never admit it aloud, your warmth, your wonder, your very existence, it made him whole.

And if this was a dream, he wishes he never wakes up. Because nothing of him would exist without you. He refuses to do so.

“Hm, let’s go.”

As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence.

It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter.

It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you.

It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

This, he thought, was more than enough to ground you both in the stillness of the winter night. The two of you ceased to talk for a while, your breaths forming soft clouds in the frosty air.

Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. The quiet companionship you shared was enough, an unspoken understanding that words could never quite capture.

It was always like this with you. There was a gentle kind of closeness that didn’t demand anything more than your presence. It wasn’t loud or extravagant, but it was steady.

That was more than enough for him, to keep him grounded in a way nothing else could. Megumi didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to rush to fill the gaps, because you already understood. It was just like that between the two of you.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noting the way the soft glow of the blue moonlight reflected off your hair and the peaceful expression on your face. A rare warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading slowly but surely, chasing away whatever lingering shadows had tried to follow him here.

Megumi’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his way of acknowledging what he couldn’t yet say aloud. This, he thought, was the kind of peace he didn’t know he needed. And for tonight, that was more than enough.

When you both arrived at the train station, the warmth of the moment lingered despite the cold metal benches and the faint whistle of the wind echoing through the platform. The faint hum of distant activity surrounded you, but it all felt muted, like the world had softened its edges just for the two of you.

You both sat down to wait for the train, your hands finally parting as you settled beside each other. Fushiguro Megumi shifted slightly, resting his elbows on his knees and looking out at the empty tracks.

The silence between you was comfortable, but you broke it, your voice cutting through the cold like the first hint of sunlight after a long night.

You looked up at him with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Megu.”

He froze for a moment, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard you. Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze, his brows furrowing slightly. “What?”

You giggled, the sound warm and light as you looked at his astonished face. “Happy birthday, I said.” you repeated, your smile widening.

His expression softened as realization washed over him. He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He shook his head, as you looked at his most adorable expressions, reserved only for you.

“I forgot, babe.” he admitted quietly, glancing away.

“I know, baby.” you said, your tone teasing but gentle. “You always forget. That’s why I’m here to remind you.”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the tracks ahead. But the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, barely there but unmistakable. He turns his blue–green eyes to you, as though you were the most wondrous thing he’d ever set his blue–green eyes on.

 “Thanks, babe.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. You always were better at wrapping presents. You had the best hands in the world, warmest to touch and the most delicate with care. And perhaps that is what made him freeze for a moment. 

“And because I know you’d never ask for anything, I got you this.”

He looked at the gift, his eyes widening slightly. “You didn’t have to—”

“But I wanted to, baby.” you interrupted, holding it out to him. “It’s your birthday, Megu. You deserve to feel special, even if it’s just a little.”

He hesitated before taking the gift from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. He stared at it for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before carefully peeling back the wrapping paper.

Inside was a small, leather keychain engraved with his initials on it. Attached to it was a simple charm shaped like a wolf, a perfect reflection of his shikigami. Megumi stared at it for a moment, his fingers brushing over the smooth leather and the delicate charm. It was clear you’d put thought into this, making sure every detail would suit him.

Everything about it was just to his liking. You always knew it better than him sometimes too. Its design is sleek and understated, free from unnecessary embellishments, yet carrying so much meaning.

It was practical, simple, and deeply personal, just like him. And yet, the simplicity is what made it even more special, just like he knew he was to you.

“You… put a lot of thought into this, babe.” he said softly, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he wasn’t entirely sure how to express.

You smiled, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Of course I did. I wanted it to be something you’d actually use. And… well…. I thought the wolf was a nice touch.”

“It is.” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the charm. 

His shikigami were a part of him, a symbol of his strength and the weight he carried in his cursed technique. But they were something he loved too. Especially his wolves. And now, here it was, captured in this small but significant token by you. Now it meant even more. Because you gave it to him. Now, it was something he could keep with him no matter where he went.

“Do you like it?” you asked, almost shyly.

Megumi looked up at you, and though his expression remained its usual calm, there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter. “I do, babe.” he said simply, but the quiet sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice spoke volumes. “Thank you.”

“I thought it could keep you company, when you’re away.” you said softly, watching him closely. “You’re always busy helping people and running around. You keep doing so much for everyone else. I wanted to give you something you could keep with you, something to remind you…”

He glanced up at you, his blue–green eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of what?”

“That you’re never really alone.” you said simply, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. “That I’m always there for you, Megu.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his fingers tightening slightly around the keychain. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. And for a moment, those rare smiles, the smiles he could only show you. You, his most precious person. That smile had trailed on his lips for a moment.

“Thank you, babe.” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—gratitude, maybe, or something even more profound that he didn’t quite know how to put into words. “I’ll treasure this well, I promise.”

You smiled, leaning back against the bench as the distant sound of the approaching train reached your ears. “Happy birthday, Megu.” you said again, your tone warm and light, your words laced with genuine affection. And then, as naturally as breathing, you added, “I love you.”

The words were simple but carried a weight that made Fushiguro Megumi’s heart stutter. He froze for a moment, wide-eyed, his usual composure shattered like glass under the heat of your confession. He’d always heard you say it over and over again. And yet…..it always made him feel like he was going to drown in your wonders.

He couldn’t help but feel himself combust with your words, the warmth spreading from his chest to his ears, and then outward until he was sure he’d melt into this cold blue winter night. Before he could even begin to stammer out a response, you squeezed his hand, your smile never fading. 

“Our train’s here! We gotta go!”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, glancing at the train now pulling into the station. You tugged him forward, your fingers laced with his, as if the moment hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

Megumi let out a soft sigh, a mix of exasperation and fondness, as he let you guide him toward the train. His blue–green eyes drifted to the keychain in his hand, its wolf charm catching the dim station light, and then to the scarf around his neck. 

The warmth of your scarf, still carrying your faint, comforting scent. For someone who often felt like the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders, tonight felt light. For tonight, everything just felt like a gift. The greatest gift in the world.

The train doors slid open with a gentle hiss, and you both stepped inside, settling into a pair of seats by the window. As the train began to move, Megumi finally found the courage to speak, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re ridiculous, you know?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

You tilted your head, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

His cheeks flushed again, and he turned his gaze to the window, watching the snow-covered scenery blur past. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually and just….watch me combust.”

“Oh, you mean when I said I love you?” you replied with a grin, clearly enjoying his reaction.

Megumi groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. “Yes. That.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But it’s true, Megu!” you said, your voice softer now. “I do love you, truly! And I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you over and over again.”

He was silent for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as your words settled over him like the softest blanket. Finally, he glanced down at you, his blue–green gaze steady despite the pink still dusting his cheeks.

“…I know.” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. 

And though he didn’t say it back to you, overwhelmed by the wonders of those words on his soul, you knew that look in his eyes. That look of love, that wonder in the blue–green that said those words without leaving his lips.

It was all in his eyes that said everything you needed to hear. He struggles. But he hopes one day, he could say it to you without the struggle. 

You smiled to yourself, your gloves gone. You let your warm fingers still intertwine with his as the train rocked gently beneath you. He squeezed it even more and that had made you smile even more as you looked at him.

You hummed and leaned your head against his shoulder. His breath hitches before a moment later, his head resting on your own. You giggled at that. 

Tonight was perfect, you thought. Just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, as the world outside continued its quiet, snowy journey. And all you could see was the tenderness of all those shades of blue. That’s what it felt like when you were with him.

Everything was worth it. The cold was worth it. And so was the parting and the waiting. As long as you get to be with him and have this feeling of blue. As long as you could see those blues in his eyes.

Everything was worth it. Everything was worth experiencing. And you knew from the depths of his heart that he felt the same way too. Blue was the wonder of being with you. And he loves it too. 

══════════════════

epilogue

Later that night when you reached your house, the warmth of the entryway light spilling into the snowy night, you turned to Megumi with a thoughtful smile. He noticed the way your bright eyes sparkled.

It was a sign you were about to say something that might throw him off. He was familiar with that look since you were in middle school. But every time, he finds himself learning the depths of that mischief in your eyes. 

“So…” you began, glancing up at him with a hint of mischief. “Do you want to stay over tonight?”

Fushiguro Megumi nearly tripped over his own feet. His handsome face turned a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, and he froze in place, his free hand holding your bag for you. You can see easily that he was clutching it nervously.

“W-What?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Why���what—why would you even—?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching him flounder. “It’s late, Megu!” you said, your tone as calm and reasonable as ever. “The buses aren’t running anymore, and so are the trains, you know! I’d feel bad making you walk all the way back to the dorms in this cold.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand, cutting him off before he could get a word in. You already knew that you had a card up your sleeve. You grinned at him and giggled, taking out your phone from your coat pocket and showing it to him.

“And before you say anything about it being improper or whatever.” you added with a knowing grin, “I already asked Gojo–san if it was okay.”

Megumi’s face somehow turned even redder, and his hand shot to his temple like he was trying to ward off a headache. He looked at your phone for a moment.“You asked Gojo?”

You nodded, looking far too pleased with yourself. “Yup! He said, and I quote, ‘As long as you don’t let Megumi brood in a corner all night, I’m fine with it! Take care of my precious son, daughter in law!’”

Fushiguro Megumi groaned, running a hand down his face. What did Gojo mean precious son? And what did Gojo mean about daughter in law? That was just….

Megumi didn’t know what to do anymore. He can’t even believe Gojo gave his number to you. He couldn’t help but feel his face echo a look of a son embarrassed by his overbearing father. 

“Why would you even tell him that? Now he’s never going to let me live this down.”

You laughed, tugging gently on his hand to lead him inside. “Oh, come on. He didn’t care at all. Besides I had to, he’s your guardian! He said he’d rather you stayed somewhere warm and safe than out in the cold. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t hung out late before. We’d have sleep overs before too.”

“That’s different.” he muttered, still flustered as you closed the door behind him.

“How is it different?” you teased, tilting your head at him.

He hesitated, glancing at you and then away, his ears burning. “It just… is. I just…..”

You rolled your bright doe eyes playfully and reached up to unwrap your scarf—now his own scarf—from around his neck. “Relax, Megu. It’s not a big deal. You can have the couch if it makes you feel better. Or the guest room. I don’t think my mom will mind when she comes back! She loves you too!”

He sighed, letting you take the scarf off but avoiding your gaze. “Fine, fine.” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll….I’ll sleep here tonight.”

You grinned, your victory clear. “Come on, I think I still have some of your old clothes I took from you. I’m sure they still fit you.”

“You never returned that hoodie I used to like.”

You raised a teasing brow at him. “Do you want it back?”

“No.” He says back to you, and looks at his own scarf on your neck too. “You can keep the scarf too.”

“Good. Now come on, I’ll make some hot chocolate. Consider it a bonus birthday gift.”

As you walked toward the kitchen, Fushiguro Megumi stood there for a moment as he watched you start humming, looking for the cocoa. He let out a quiet sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. 

He was definitely going to hear about this from Gojo Satoru later, but for now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was with you. And that was more than enough for him to not care about the world outside. 

[djarins-cyare]

(Angsty) WIP Weekend

Thank you to the following lovelies for tagging me in various WIP posts over the past month (you are all wonderful 💚):

@ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @quinnnfabrgay-writes

@secretelephanttattoo @the-blind-assassin-12 @the-mandawhor1an

Once again, I’m humbly offering up a snippet because I’m still eyeball-deep in the writing stage of my (now several months late) Secret Relationship fic for the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge. It now stands at just over 57k words, but I swear I only have two more chapters to write. Happily, I have a whole 3 weeks off work over the holidays, so I’m aiming to release it next month.

I won’t bore you with why I had to expand it again, but let’s just say angst fans will be well-fed.

In fact, since my previous WIP offerings from this fic (see here, here, and here) have mostly been smut-adjacent, I’ve decided to give you a taste of the angst for a change…

(Sorry it’s shorter than my usual snippets; it’s tough to find a decent chunk I can share without spoiling anything)

You fight for a week. Each day, he comes over, imploring you to calm down, eat something, see his point of view. He tries every tactic – soft words, hard orders, pleading eyes – but every attempt only feels like salt in a wound that will never close. Each day, you hurl back insults, curses, and even whatever objects are within reach. A glass shatters against the wall near his head. A boot catches him in the gut. You hope each impact carries a fraction of the pain he’s inflicted on you. You scream a lot. You scream until your throat is raw and you taste blood. Sometimes, your screams are molten with fury, blistering the air. Other times, they collapse into broken, keening wails, your voice trembling with the weight of all the misery you can’t contain. You cry a lot. You cry until there’s nothing left – until the tears burn instead of soothe. The memories torture you whenever your eyes close, echoes of your dreams being torn apart in a single evening. With every tear you try to blink away, your losses replay on the back of your eyelids with excruciating clarity. Your body can’t handle the strain. Your hands tremble constantly, whether from exhaustion or rage, you no longer know. Your chest feels tight; every breath is an effort. Sleep offers no relief; it’s a battlefield of nightmares that leave you thrashing and gasping awake. Yet you don’t stop fighting. You can’t stop. It’s the only shield against the endless void threatening to swallow you whole. Fighting is all you have left now.

The high level of angst will be balanced by an equally high level of smut, don’t worry 😏. But the good stuff needs to be earned.

As usual, if you’d like me to tag you when I release the chapters, please raise your hand or communicate your wish however you see fit. You can also join my tag list if you like.

Apparently, Tumblr is now limiting the number of links per post, which includes tags 😡. Since my WIP posts aren’t particularly frequent, I always try to tag as many people as possible, so I guess I’ll just put them in a reblog…

[trippinsorrows]

without you + four

authors note: damn. it's been a minute. wanted to at least update this story for ya'll before christmas. i'll try my best to not make the next update take as long.

warnings: none

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

one + two + three

words: 5k

“Ooooh, this some nice white people shit.”

“Alexis!”

Leave it to this girl to always say some out of pocket shit at the wrong time. You offer an apologetic gaze to the workers who cast her an almost strange look at her outburst before elbowing your best friend. “Bitch, would you shut the fuck up.”

She sucks her teeth, offering an excuse versus an explanation. “What I say?” She gestures around the backyard that’s just about fully decorated. “You know black people. We usually got that one nice centerpiece of them big ass balloons and a Sam’s or Costco sheet cake for baby showers. That’s about it.” Rolling your eyes, she just has to add on. “It’s like when we have a funeral, and they done put Grandma Rose in them ghetto ass clouds talking about some sunrise to sunset.”

At that, you have to laugh. “Okay, you not wrong there.”

“I’m never wrong. Duh.”

“Whatever.” You take in once more just the opulent display that Alexis and Kaylah have been working on over the past few weeks. Initially, they wanted to find a venue to rent, but considering this baby shower will only include close friends and family, a venue seemed like too  much. Not to mention that Joe has been adamant about trying to keep this pregnancy as private as possible. Not necessarily from a place of wanting to hide it. No, if that was the case, he wouldn’t have shared some of the maternity pictures you took not even two weeks ago to his Instagram.

Or even some faceless photos of Callie. 

But, that’s something he can control. A sharing he has autonomy over and full say in. Paparazzi crashing your baby shower is not, thus the two of you deciding that the shower should just take place at your home.

And given the massive size of not only the actual house but your backyard, it’s a great decision. 

“It’s all looking so nice.” Kaylah’s voice enters the conversation as she walks over, clipboard in hand and a smile on her face. “How you doing, mama bear?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer honestly, “feeling big and pregnant.”

“Well….”

“Shut up, Lex,” you mutter, rubbing your belly. “These babies have definitely been kicking my ass with this back and breast pain.”

Granted, being five months pregnant with triplets, it’s an expected sort of discomfort. It’s helped immensely to have a fiancé that’s home and attentive and always willing to do whatever he needs or rather, whatever you need. He’s taken over Callie duties on the evenings where you just feel tired. He cooks most nights, partially because he knows your feet hurt and are swollen usually. But also, that little traitorous little girl of yours has made it clear she prefers daddy’s food over mommy’s food. He’s even gone as far as calling your mom and asking for tips on how to do Callie’s hair, as your ever growing belly has made that a little bit more difficult.

Put simply, he continues to be the perfect man. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life. 

Kaylah moves closer, hand on your stomach. She, along with other close family and friends, never need to ask. It’s just the strangers who you don’t know that need to stay six feet away at all times. “I can’t believe we’re only four months away from meeting them.”

Alexis shakes her head. “Earth, Wind, and Fire truly have no idea what kind of big ass, loving, chaotic family they’re about to be born into.”

Blowing out a breath, you scold her, “girl, how many times I gotta tell you to stop calling them that?”

“Would you prefer Thing 1, 2, and 3?” No answer is all the answer she needs. “That’s what I thought.” And, of course, she has to just sneak on in there another attempt. “If you would just tell me the sexes—”

“Ain’t happening.” You shut that shit down real fast. “Joe and I already made it clear. We’re not revealing that until the shower.” A special thing kept between yourself, your fiancé, and the child you already share, as Callie was present for your last checkup appointment where you were able to find out the sexes. 

“Bitch, the shower is literally tomorrow.”

“And you, along with everyone else, will find out tomorrow then.” Alexis is visibly, playfully annoyed, as Kaylah only laughs. 

“I understand. We’re just excited. That’s all.”

And, you get it. The farther along you get in your pregnancy, the more excitement you feel at getting to meet your babies. All the shopping, the setting up of the nurseries (you and Joe decided on two rooms), even the deciding of the names. Even more, it’s been so special to have a partner in all of this. You might not have gotten that with Callie, but you’re damn sure getting it now, and it feels good.

—------

“I don’t know if I should take her to Disney by myself.”

Joe’s seemingly random statement takes you by surprise. Turning to him with a frown, you ask, “what?”

He sighs, also angling his body to you while his focus remains on your belly. “You’re so far along in your pregnancy. Anything could happen.”

“But, it won’t,” you stress, reaching up to palm his cheek. “Joe, I’ll be fine. My mom will be here with me. Both Kaylah and Alexis are less than 15 minutes away. I won’t be alone.” Because that seems to be what he’s thinking. “I want you guys to go. She’s really looking forward to it, and not just because the kid lives and breathes Disney.” Largely thanks to yourself and your mom. “Plus, that’s what she wants for her birthday.”

“Or a puppy.”

“I swear to God, if you or your mini me bring up that damn puppy one more time.”

He chuckles and moves to kiss your temple. “Just don’t want to not be here if you need me…”

“I’ll always need you in one way or another, Joe.” The God’s honest truth. “But, our daughter needs you more, and I want her to get in as much one-one-time with you before the babies arrive and she suddenly has to share you with three siblings.”

He eyes you, recognizing the unspoken concern in your statement. “You still think she’s going to get jealous?”

“I know she is,” you answer, matter-of-factly. “She’s a little kid. A mama and daddy’s girl. It’s natural. We’ll just have to make sure we reassure and look out for any signs.” Though you know not everything can be caught, and kids are sometimes good at hiding what they don’t want their parents to see. Granted, Callie has always been pretty open with you, so you hope that doesn’t change. 

As the two of you move back to folding clothes, you find yourself changing the subject, “also, not related, but before my baby brain kicks in, I was thinking, what if I applied for a job at her school?”

It’s something you thought about when you and Joe toured the private school that Ellie attends, a nice, expensive but safe option considering sending Callie to public school in the fall doesn't seem like the best or smartest move.

Working at your daughter’s school is also just something that would make you feel a little better. A new school. A new educational milestone. You wanna support her and be there for her as much as you can.

However, the less than thrilled look on Joe’s face definitely takes you by surprise. 

“You’re gonna work?”

It’s such a simple but silly question that makes you scoff quietly, “of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, grabbing another item to fold. A part of you is wondering if you’re even going to have room for the gifts you’ll receive at the baby shower tomorrow. You two have already gotten so many things, clothes especially. “Maybe because we’re about to have three newborns.” 

Rolling your eyes, you calmly counter, “No shit. I’m not thinking of going back right away. Maybe next fall. They’ll be one. Callie will be starting first grade, so it would be nice to be working at the place where she, and they, eventually, will be at.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you’re inclined to prompt a follow up when he finally breaks his silence. “I don’t know how that’s supposed to work.”

Frowning, you ask, “what do you mean?”

Joe sighs, an edge in his voice. “You seriously want to go back to work when we’ll have three one year-olds?” And before you can respond, he continues. “Who’s going to stay with them, Y/N? You’ll be working. I’ll be on the road—”

“It’s not like we’ll be working 24/7, Joe. And we’ve got a huge support system here. Your family. Kaylah. Alexis. It’s not like we’re alo—”

“You don't need to be working.”

Silence.

It’s a good minute before you speak again. “Excuse me?”

He blows out a breath, running a hand through his hair that’s down and hanging. “I want you to stay home with the kids full time—”

“Joe.” Cutting him off isn’t the best thing, but your emotion is starting to get the best of you. “You know me. You know damn well that I’m not the stay at home wife type. I’ve worked consistently since I was sixteen years-old, and I’m not about to stop just because you want me to.”

You love what you do. Teaching might be a stressful career, but it’s always been more rewarding than anything. And truth be told, you can’t imagine a life for yourself where you’re not doing it in some capacity.

Joe’s voice is even, his expression stern. “It’s not about me, Y/N. It’s about what’s best for the kids.”

“And if what was truly best for them is for me to be here full time, then I would do that, but it’s not necessary—”

“And that’s where I disagree with you,” he pushes back, angled completely toward you, arms crossed. He shrugs. “I think it is.”

Partially taken back by his stance on this, it still doesn’t prevent you from standing your ground. “Well then, I guess we’re not on the same page here then.”

“Not at all.”

It’s a strange thing, being on such opposite ends of the spectrum. Joe has always matched you so well, and unfortunately, that can include the level of stubbornness. He is never one to back down, but neither are you. 

So where does that leave you two?

“Mommy.”

Callie’s quiet voice breaks the intense impasse. Clearing your throat, you turn to her and force a small smile. “What’s up, sis?”

She moves her hands behind her back, teetering up and down on the heels of her feet. “Will you color with me?”

An easy answer if it will get you out of this room that’s suddenly filled with an uncomfortable amount of tension. 

“Callie, mommy and I need a few min—”

“Of course, I’ll color with you, baby.” Again, you fully recognize that cutting him off is rude and not the best way to handle this. A petty way, certainly. But, he also knows that when you get pissed off, it’s best to just give you some space.

Even if it’s not the best thing overall.

Not even bothering to look back at him, you walk over and take Callie’s hand, escorting you both out the room with another word.

Left alone with his thoughts, still irked at the conversation as a whole, Joe quickly and easily realizes telling you what he wanted you to do wasn’t the right approach.

He knows he has good reasons for his preferred plan regarding the whole work thing, but he also knows you, or should know you well enough, to know that trying to tell you what to do has never and will never end well.

It’s just he definitely wasn’t expecting your approach and outlook on this job thing, even if it makes sense for your character and what he knows about you. There was just this part of him that was thinking you’d maybe take a couple years off before returning to teaching. Wait until the kids are a little older. That makes most sense to him, and he’s sure if he maybe responded better and was cleared on his reasoning, you’d have been a bit more receptive.

Maybe not have walked out.

Joe’s phone dinging in his pocket prompts him to pull it out.

Megan: Hey there! Just wanted to follow up and let you know the housing and travel arrangements are all finalized.

Megan: Though I’m curious, you requested a house instead of an apartment? 

Megan: That’s a lot of room for just one man. 😉

Joe does find the added emoji a little strange, maybe unprofessional by some standards, but it’s the least of his worries right now.

Joe: Thank you for the update. My fiancée and daughter will be coming to visit when I have to stay for a few days for filming. Need the room for them.

And, it’s not set to happen very often, his management working with the film execs for a schedule that’s pretty flexible and allows him to be back home the same day for most of the filming. It’s just those few instances where he has to stay overnight, a couple days even, that he and you decided would be the times where you and Callie would stay with him.

Megan: Oh.

For some reason, Megan's response rubs him the wrong way, which is strange because up until this point, he’s had no issues with the young woman. She’s been professional, helpful, and informative. 

Megan: I think it’s so cool how family oriented you are. So freaking sweet.

Joe truly has no idea how to respond to that, because it’s not inherently wrong. If anything, it’s just a compliment, but there’s something about it…

Megan: Anyways, won’t keep ya! Hope you have a great rest of your evening, babe! ❤️

It’s that message, however, that crosses the line, prompting him to reply and remind her of his boundaries.

And her place.

Joe: As you said, I’m very family oriented, so I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that. The emoji is also inappropriate and makes me uncomfortable.

Someone never uncomfortable with setting a boundary, he feels nothing when he sees the typing bubble appear and reappear several times before her response slides in.

Megan: I am SO SO sorry. I’m so used to working with women, so my dialogue is sometimes women coded. Again, my apologies. Have a great evening, Joe.

It’s a response that he appreciates and doesn’t feel the need to respond to. He said what he needed to stay. She apologized and made it right. It’s all water under the bridge.

Joe goes to lock his phone and put it away when a thought crosses his mind. 

You have his passcode, are free to go through his phone, not something that you’ve ever done but something he doesn’t care about regardless. However, if you were to go through it for some reason, seeing this exchange could most definitely make you feel some type of way. 

And, it’s not that he feels guilty, Joe knows he handled it appropriately and accurately. But, he doesn’t want you getting upset, doesn’t need you experiencing any kind of unnecessary stress.

Something he’s already inadvertently contributed to by not handing your argument a few minutes ago correctly. 

None of that is good for you, and especially not for the babies, and when it comes to this pregnancy, he's not taking any risks.

Especially not with you as far along as you are.

Joe ultimately decides to delete the last three texts, letting the conversation stop at the “family oriented” comment from Megan.

Again, he doesn’t need a situation that’s not even a real situation being an issue.

It’s just better this way.

—------

You’re touching up your makeup, about to apply another coat of mascara to add the finishing touches to the complete look for the baby shower when you take a moment to appreciate your appearance. The white dress is beautiful against your melanin, and your mom did the damn thing with your hair. Ultimately deciding to wear your hair natural, mama opted to put it up in a beautiful, fancy updo that perfectly frames and highlights your beat face. 

The final product is something stunning and perfect, the ideal look you wanted and were aiming for on this big, special day. 

A knock on the bathroom door prompts you to lift your gaze to the mirror where you’re met with the lingering stare of your handsome fiancé.

Taking in his outfit, a white, short sleeved button up shirt, khaki shorts, topped off with white and gold Nike Freeks, a small smile falls on your face. It’s the perfect look for him. So Joe.

He walks in and closes the door behind him, coming to stand behind you. Your eyes shut as he holds you, hand on your bump, head in the crook of your neck.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments with a kiss pressed against your moisturized skin. 

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur, reaching up and caressing the back of his head. “I’m sorry….”

“Naw, I’m sorry,” he interrupts in an equal voice, carefully turning you around as looks down with an apologetic countenance. “It wasn’t right for me to try to tell you what to do.”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t exactly trying to be receptive.” Sleeping on it helped you arrive at that realization that with all of the glaring, embarrassing clarity. “I think I’m so used to doing things my way that I forgot it isn’t just about me and what I want, it’s about us and what works for my family.”

“I don’t want to take away from your autonomy, Y/N.”

“I know that, Leati.” Hand moving to palm his face, you remind, “but these babies mean we’re all going to have to adjust one way or another. I might have to take some time off from working full time.”

Because as much as you love what you do, Joe was right in that your kids might need you to be home more. Full time, even. And while it would definitely feel a little off going into a school year and not having a classroom to call yours, taking care of your children and making sure they’re straight would more than fill that void.

“And, I’m going to see about making my part time schedule permanent,” he shares, moving his hand to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze when you open your mouth to protest. “It’s what I want, babe. I told you before, I don’t want to miss anything else.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, suggesting, “maybe you could do something part time?”

“Maybe.” You shrug, reassuring, “regardless, we’ll figure it out and do what’s best not for you or for me but for our family.”

Because that’s what most important. Doing what’s best not for one but for all of you.

“We will,” he agrees, brushing his lips against yours, “I don’t ever want to go to bed not on good terms again, you understand me?”

Your thighs shouldn’t clench together the way they do at his commanding tone. It’s a serious thing that you agree with, but it’s the combination of his hard body against yours, his cologne invading your senses, and his minty breath against your face that has you pushing back….something.

“Yes, daddy.” A cheeky, double entendre that has his eyes narrowing. 

There's something so innocent yet downright filthy as he promises in a darkened voice, “you know Imma fuck the shit out of you when all is said and done today, right?”

Fuck.

More fluttering, even if it’s something you already know. Because it’s been three days, and that’s far too long to go without your favorite pastime. 

Hand moving over his crotch, you palm his dick through his pants. “Good, cause mama needs her fill.” Licking your lips, you add, “if we had time, I’d suck your dick right now.”

Because five months pregnant or not, so long as you can find a way to have this man inside of you, that’s exactly what you gon’ do. You both love sex too much to go too long without it. And, you both know the window in which you can realistically be sexually active during this pregnancy is waning, so you’ve gotta make the most of the time you do have.

Joe’s glare is light and teasing. “You such a nasty lil’ thing, you know that?”

Smiling and moving your arms around his neck, you cheekily remind him, “but that’s part of why you love me, ain’t it? Because I match your freak. Because mama loves when daddy puts her in her place. Ties, whips and bondage included….”

“Fuck, Y/N, you tryna make me hard?” A rhetorical but also serious question as he drops his hand to your backside, taking a handful of your supple ass in his big hands. “Want daddy to fuck his pussy with all them people down there and outside waiting for u—”

Several hard knocks on the door followed by a familiar voice. “Mommy! Daddy!” A smile breaks on your face as he closes his eyes, clearly trying to settle himself. “Grandma says it’s time!”

Laughing quietly, you call out, “okay, baby. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

And, of course, your forever inquisitive child has to ask, “what are you guys doing?”

Joe chuckles and slaps your ass before moving to open the door, a grinning Callie smiling even harder as she looks up at her favorite person. “Daddy!”

Reaching for him, Joe doesn’t hesitate to lean over and pick her up. Your smile grows at the sight of Callie dressed in her adorable white and gold dress, your mom also styling her curls into two big pom poms. 

She looks so much like Joe in this moment.

Callie gasps and compliments, “mommy! You look so pretty!”

“Thank you, Callie Bear.” You move over and kiss her cheek, deciding your current look is good enough. 

It’s time to celebrate your growing family.

—------

The Baby Shower is something out of a dream. 

Beautifully decorated, whites, blues, and pinks spread across your backyard, the aesthetic is very Pinterest aligned and everything you could have imagined for a day meant to celebrate the three lives you’ve created. 

Guests including several members of Joe’s family like his mom and sisters, Jon and Josh and their families. Alexis, too, of course. Jadah was invited but unable to make it due to work obligations. Regardless, it’s a wonderful outcome, being surrounded by all the people you love the most here to be with you during this great time in your lives. 

It’s a lot of laughter, a ton of great food, a tremendous amount of gifts, and an abundance of love that's felt from the moment you, Joe, and Callie walk out to the sound of Baby by Ashanti playing. Continues as there’s a damn near mass chorus that’s formed when When I See You by Fantasia comes on.

And the classic dances such as the Wobble and Electric Slide to Candy by Cameo that you most definitely get your big and pregnant ass to partake in.

But, one of your favorite parts has to be the photo station, several photos taken of yourself and Joe, various shots of his hands placed protectively over your stomach. Callie joins you for a couple photos as well, though it’s not missed upon you when she makes a face after one of Joe’s sisters jokingly makes a comment to her about “not being the only kiddo in the house anymore.”

It’s something you’ll certainly circle back around to at the end of the party, and it’s a time that’s nearing as the three of you start to kick off the moment everyone has been waiting for.

Joe’s deep voice travels across the spacious yard as he keeps an arm around you, Callie holds onto his shirt and stands on the other side of him. “We just want to thank all of you for taking time out to be here with us today.” 

“You already know we weren’t about to miss this,” Trinity shouts.

Jon laughs and adds, “hell no. Can’t remember the last time we had a set of triplets join the family.”

“That’s cause it don’t happen a lot in general,” Alexis chimes, sipping on her Henny. “But Big Di—”

“Like Joe said,” you cut her off, already knowing where that was going. “We’re so happy and blessed to have you all in our lives, and it means the world to us that our children, the babies and Callie, have so many people who love them just as much as we do.” 

Because knowing these amazing, wonderful people love your kids, even the ones that haven’t even arrived yet, as much as you and Joe do, truly is the best thing ever.

“But, we all know what ya’ll really wanna know,” Joe chuckles. “You wanna know the genders.” 

A round of agreement prompts laughter with someone shouting out “hell yeah!” and Josh saying something about “winning the bet.” 

As one of the workers brings over the three sets of balloons and pins, you and Joe make sure Callie has the right one before you take over. “Alright, is everyone ready?”

“Girl, would you hurry up? The new season of Baddies drops tonight!”

“Alexis, shut the hell up,” you laugh, shaking your head before turning to Joe. With a head nod, volume increased, you start with an excited tone, “the first baby is…..” And a small second of intentional delay before you pop the balloon, revealing blue confetti. 

More rounds of applause and cheers as Joe proudly announces, “a boy.”

“I knew it!”

“The Tribal Chief got a tribal heir!”

“Whew, sis, start them kegel exercises now!”

When the celebration dies down, Joe and Callie focus on you for your turn. You lift up the balloon as he kicks off this time, “the second baby is….” Another intentional delay followed by a pop, revealing more blue confetti.

Eyes watering, you share loudly and proudly, “another boy!”

The pure excitement on everyone's face, including your mom who has silent tears streaming down her face, has you blotting at your eyes. This moment couldn’t be anymore perfect.

Joe moves to pick up Callie, kissing her cheek, asking, “you ready, Callie Bear?” She nods with excitement, you and Joe speaking in synchronization as you stand close to him with your hand on his stomach, “and the third baby is…..” Callie counts to three, closes her eyes, and pops the balloon.

And as pink confetti blends with the blue, she shouts with all the happiness, “a baby girl!”

The crowd of family and friends is the loudest during the last and final reaction, deepening your happiness, mimicking that of which was felt when Dr. Young revealed the sexes to you at your last appointment.

Two boys and one girl is literally perfect. 

Your little family truly is truly going to be complete.

“And,” you cut through the cheers, one glance at your fiancé and daughter before you continue. “We have another surprise for ya’ll.”

“Don’t tell me there’s a fourth!”

Rolling your eyes at Jon, you cut right to it, “we’ve decided to share the names we’ve picked out.”

Gasps and excitement go around, Joe once again being the one to start off. “The firstborn boy will be named Iosefa Anoa’i.” 

Iosefa.

The Samoan variation of the name Joseph.

Gaze on Joe, it fills your heart with so much love to see and hear the pride in his voice and on his face. Having one of your sons named after him is the least you can do for this man. 

It’s what he deserves.

Clearing your throat, you provide the second name. “The second baby boy will be named Isaiah Anoa’i.” A strong, Biblical name. A name given in honor of your mom who has always loved said name. A moving gesture she clearly recognizes given the way she places both hands over her heart, mouthing ‘thank you.’

You mouth, 'I love you, too' back as both yourself and Joe redirect your focus to Callie for her big moment.

She giggles when Joe tickles her stomach before yelling, “and my baby sister will be named Moana Anoa’i!”

Deciding on names was such an intimate, thoughtful, moving process, and while they may not be as alike or even common as most triplet names, they mean something to you, Joe, and even Callie, who both yourself and your husband decided to let name her sister. 

Callie is your firstborn, special to both of you in ways that you can’t describe, so giving her that only felt right.

And as you re-enter the group of friends and family who have gathered here for this special occasion, you can’t help but imagine what that’s going to be like when it happens again. On a different day. For a different reason. A year or so away, when you stand before them and God and take the man who completes you as your better half.

A beautiful day indeed, even if it’s more for show and aesthetic anyway. 

Because unbeknownst to most of the guests, outside of Callie, your mom, and Joe’s mom, you have an appointment at the courthouse tomorrow morning at 10am sharp.

Because after tomorrow, not only will you and Joe Anoa’i share children.

You’ll share last names.

Because tomorrow is your wedding day. 

You’ll officially be Mrs. Y/N Anoa’i.

[reborn-readings]

What does your mind need from you at this moment?

Tip Jar | Masterlist TBA

Hello everyone! This is gonna be my first Pick a Pile, I'm so excited! I hope it brings you joy and healing 💜

This is a group reading, so take what resonates and leave the rest. Don't force anything if it does not fit. Remember that the future is not set in stone and that other potential paths exist depending on your movement through the course of time.

Pile 1 (Left)

Death | Rx Four of Cups | Eight of Coins - Ganesha | Ace of Wands | Ten of Autumn | Cycles | Metamorphosis | Culmination – Completion and Renewal

Pile 1, you are spiraling through a lopsided sequence of events right now. It feels like things are building, like trying to contain a windstorm completely out of our control. Change is happening, that much is for sure, but while change is life’s only constant, there are moments that make you ask “Is all this really necessary? Can’t we slow down a bit?” The answer is no, you can’t—the universe is so eager to put new opportunities in your hands that they feel like hurled curses. 

In this chaos, what your mind needs is not a sense of relief or control, but the assurance that you are not powerless in the face of it. Life is giving you a wave—are you going to let it roll over you and send you careening head over heels, or are you going to ride it? Change is a good thing—we often forget that in order to build upon our foundations, we must change and grow. You are a caterpillar ready to weave your cocoon, and only you know the potential you have. Who knows what you’ll emerge as? 

Your mind asks you to consider an opportunity that comes to you and to not guilt yourself for rejecting what you know is not helpful. Follow your intuition on that; don’t close every door that opens, even if it opened by the wind knocking it down. Consistent work will get you where you’re going. Fall back on your previous experience and build on it to bring it to fruition. There is an upcoming end to a material concern or success in a material goal, and it will bring opportunity for a new object of passion with it. You will create something wonderful out of this chaos—I feel the recognition as something making your chest feel full. The chaos may not subside, but with a new understanding of it, you will know how to harness and weather it. 

Other messages - Out of chaos comes creation. Change is beautiful. Satisfaction with financial savings. Bring your all to whatever projects you decide to take on. Having gathered what was needed. Inbox never empty. Kudos for a job well done. 

Symbols - Thick forests. Poured-out vessels. Circles. Insects or other bugs. Perches.

Pile 2 (Middle)

Two of Pentacles | Rx High Priestess | Ace of Wands – Ra and Kokopelli | Rx Hermit | Prince of Winter | Snowflake Obsidian | Dignity | Independence – Carving Your Own Path

Oh, Pile 2, I see the winter in you. Others might look at you and see the throttling of the edges of autumn and spring. You are more than that, but it becomes difficult to tell when everyone just wishes that winter would be over already. 

Perhaps you are someone young, or someone young in spirit. You have depended on others to help you make the right decisions, but when people tell you that they’ll help you make the right decisions, you often suspect that they want you to make whichever decision will be better for them. Masculine and feminine, withdrawn and social, intuitive or logical—these dualities have plagued you, proponents from each side calling for you to cast away the other. In particular, I see an overbearing masculine presence or ideal that interferes with your thoughts when you try to think about how to move forward. 

Your mind needs to be its own. The reality is, you are a lot bigger and stronger than the people around you. You have a commanding presence that’s a little intimidating, and thus, the people around you want to know that you’re on their side. You should feel honored! But at the end of the day, you can’t leave everyone satisfied, and besides, what’s the point if you yourself are never satisfied? 

I see you really benefiting from taking some time for yourself and your own pursuits. You have been wanting to study something or take a deeper look at something—your mind yearns to be enriched. It also yearns to use that information to take action. It wants you to have faith in yourself and your own decisions, and above all else, to finally make a decision. It may be daunting, but afterwards, you will be a sense of security and stability like never before. I have faith in you. Practice having faith in yourself 

Other messages - A strong foundation will keep you safe. Take pride in yourself. Take honor in your choices, achievements, and actions. Stay focused. Sudden or unexpected changes brought about by you. Head into the vault and stay for a bit. Have some fun in the snow. 

Symbols - Screen doors. Long tails. Something hanging from the ceiling? Searing cold and blistering hot at the same time. Roots in the air and branches in the ground.  Blue sparks/light.

Pile 3 (Right)

King of Swords | Rx Nine of Swords | Awakening of Wands – Eros | Rx Two of Pentacles | Prince of Spring | Howlite | Partnership | Miracle – Making a Difference

Pile 3, you are the master of the mind…aren’t you? Or is the mind a master of you? 

Keep on reading—it might seem unbearable to think that you do not have a cap on your emotions, your passions, your place in the world—but at this moment, your mind needs you to trust it. Think about it! When you’re using a computer or other piece of technology, you’re not the one going in and individually flipping each bit and byte to its correct position. It is the same with your mind—let it handle the secrets of itself, trust that it knows what to do to keep you being that same, wonderful you. 

Has Cupid’s arrow struck you? Do you find yourself longing to be that perfect romantic that always gets the girl? Now you’ve got even more of a problem! How are you supposed to keep tabs on two minds?! It feels like everything’s going wrong, burning down, targeting you. To get past this, you must learn to see your mind not as an enemy, but as a friend that knows you better than you know yourself. Go ahead and follow your mind, just for one tiny, unimportant decision or impulse, and see how it turns out. If it doesn’t end up good, then oh well, but if it does, see where it takes you. 

The world is a wonderful place when you open yourself up to its many possibilities, even if they don’t all seem perfect or ideal. Challenge yourself to take action and allow yourself to have reaction. You are a talented individual, and, if you let them, others will see you for that and want to be with you. Allow the rainbow of life to soak you in every hue and you just might find a matching color, someone so seamless and natural that you’ll wonder how you ever lived life without them by your side, that you’ll forget what it was like without them. And allow your mind to forget some things. It’ll just open you up to experience new wonders. 

Other messages - Shed the old to embrace the new. Close your eyes to see more clearly. Work together. Touch each other’s hearts. A challenge that you can successfully manage. Recognition.  Eternal work in progress (have fun working on it!) Love yourself. 

Symbols - Song. Walk with flowers lining the path. Obstacles falling away. Clear skies. Meditation. Pink.

If this was helpful, please consider donating 💜

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

previous | story masterlist | next

“Hehe.”   

You stare down at your brand-new selfie—taken with none other than Gojo Satoru . He’s smiling and posing while making peace signs with his fingers, and on your end, you’ve got a stupidly wide grin on your face, looking like you’ve just won the lottery. Which, in all fairness, you kind of did .   

“There you go,” Gojo hums, then he stops to cross his arms for a moment. “But why the selfie request all of a sudden? I’ll admit, I’m pretty popular in the world of jujutsu sorcerers, but you shouldn’t know about any of that.”   

“I don’t,” you nod. “I just think you’re really hot—I mean, really cool. Y-Yeah. You just seem really cool.”   

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Fushiguro staring at you in disgust.   

Goddammit. That dude must have an absolutely terrible impression of you so far.   

“Very true,” Gojo grins, swiping his hair back like some kind of L’Oréal shampoo model. “I am pretty cool, if I do say so myself.”   

Fushiguro looks even more disgusted now.   

Gojo claps his hands together. “Anyways! Time to head out. Take one last moment to make sure you’re not forgetting anything, because once we’re there, well… I can’t guarantee when you’ll be able to come back.”   

It’s a good thing your parents aren’t actual parents, because it’s safe to say that there’s no longer anything tying you to this place. Of course, you’re terrified of what the future may hold, but you made the decision to be brave, and to try to help people in the process. If you play your cards right, maybe lives can be spared. Maybe not everyone has to die.   

So, yeah. You’re ready to leave. You’re ready to start this new chapter.   

And you also now have a selfie with Gojo Satoru. So far, life is pretty good.   

The trip to Tokyo takes a couple hours by train, but fortunately, you’ve got Itadori to keep you company the whole time. You try to engage Fushiguro in conversation as well, but he mostly keeps to himself and just stares out the window without saying anything. It doesn’t help that he’s clearly suspicious of you, but whatever. Not much you can do about it right now.   

Some time passes, and eventually, you reach your destination. Fushiguro separates from the group and goes off on his own to receive treatment for his injuries, so you’re left behind with Gojo and Itadori as you venture further into the mountains. 

“I can’t believe this is really Tokyo,” Itadori marvels.  

“Even Tokyo’s like this on the outskirts,” Gojo brushes off. “More importantly, Yuji, you’ve got an interview with the principal right away. If you mess up, you might get rejected, so do your best, okay? No pressure.”   

“Huh? Does that mean I’ll get executed right away?!”   

“What a disappointment. So, you’re not even the leader?”   

A familiar voice. You freeze up at the sound of it, unsurprised to find Sukuna’s mouth on the side of Itadori’s cheek. A partial manifestation, or whatever the hell you might call that. Either way, it gives you the creeps.   

“A hierarchy not based purely on strength is boring, if you ask me,” Sukuna chuckles.   

Itadori slaps his palm over his cheek in a hurry to shut Sukuna up. “Sorry about that. He pops out sometimes. I can’t always help it.”  

Unfortunately, Sukuna refuses to disappear, and this time, he manifests on the back of Itadori’s hand instead.   

“You really did a number on me earlier. I’m letting you know right now. Once I make this boy’s body completely mine, you’ll be the first one I kill!”   

That stinky old bastard is just running his mouth (quite literally), so you’re not really fazed.   

At least, not until he turns his attention to you.  

“And you ,” Sukuna mutters. “The strange girl. You never answered my question before. What are you? What in the world is going on with your cursed energy? It’s bothersome. Hurry up and give me a straight answer, or you’ll regret it.”   

“Ugh, again ?” Itadori fumes, stomping his foot in frustration. “Go away, already! You’re so annoying! And leave [Name] alone!”   

Fortunately, Itadori manages to fully suppress him this time, putting an end to Sukuna’s incessant yapping. Dude is seriously in love with the sound of his own voice.   

Unfortunately, Gojo already heard everything he said loud and clear.   

“Sukuna appears to have a fixation on you,” Gojo remarks, pressing his hand to his chin. “Well, I guess it’s not really that surprising, considering the ridiculous amount of cursed energy you’re constantly emitting. It’s obvious that you’re not a sorcerer because you don’t seem to know how to control it, but in terms of sheer capacity, it far surpasses that of an ordinary human.”   

“N-Neat,” you reply stupidly.   

Gojo stares at you for a few moments, then throws his head back and starts laughing.   

“Haha! Sure, I guess you could call it that. Being strong is pretty neat, without a doubt. I was going to say how honored I am to be the target of Ryomen Sukuna, but it looks like he’s even more interested in you, so you’ve got me beat in that regard.”   

“I’m not honored at all. I want nothing to do with that nasty guy.”   

Gojo laughs again. “Yeah, I bet. I can only imagine how confused you must be right now. Not to mention freaked out.”   

“So, is Sukuna really that famous?” Itadori asks.   

“Yes,” Gojo nods. “Ryomen Sukuna. He’s a demon of lore with four arms and two faces. But the truth is that he was actually a human who existed, although it was well over a thousand years ago. In the golden age of jujutsu, sorcerers gathered up all their might to challenge him, but ultimately, they failed to defeat him entirely. Crowned with the title of Sukuna, we couldn’t even destroy his grave wax, and he thus traversed the ages after his death as a cursed object. Without a doubt, he is the King of Curses.”   

“So, who’s stronger, you or him?”   

“Hm. Well, if Sukuna were to regain all his power, then it’d probably be pretty draining.”   

“Would you lose?”   

Gojo slows his steps for a moment, then tilts his head towards both of you, a cocky grin plastered across his lips.   

“Nah,” he chuckles. “I’d win.”   

Oh my god. I really got to see him deliver that iconic line. And he looked hot as hell while doing it.   

You stare at him with hearts in your eyes, already in full fangirl mode (which is pretty much your default mode, to be fair), but Gojo beckons the two of you onwards before you can get lost in your thoughts.   

He leads you inside one of the buildings, where you’re greeted by a familiar face.   

“You’re late, Satoru. Eight minutes late. Not quite enough to chastise you for, but I thought I told you to fix that bad habit of yours.”  

It’s the principal, of course—Yaga Masamichi. He’s currently in the middle of crafting a new puppet, and he’s also got more than a handful of them already surrounding him. At first glance, they’re adorable, but you know that their appearance is awfully deceptive, and they’re a lot stronger than they look.   

Poor Itadori’s about to get bitch-slapped by one of those puppets soon.   

“That old dude’s randomly making really cute stuff,” Itadori whispers in your ear.   

“If it’s not enough for you to get mad about, then cut me some slack, will ya?” Gojo sighs. “I figured you’d just be making your dolls anyway. Eight minutes is no big deal.”   

Principal Yaga gestures towards Itadori. “That’s him, right? Sukuna’s vessel. And the girl beside him… must be the other student you mentioned. The one with the abnormal amount of cursed energy.”   

“My name is Itadori Yuji!” your friend introduces, bowing his head in a hurry. “I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence! It’s nice to meet you!”   

Shit. Is it my turn now?   

“I-I’m [Last Name] [Name],” you say, bowing as well. “And I like, um… I guess I like cool guys. Like Gojo. And funny guys, like Ryan Reynolds. I also think Timothée Chalamet is pretty cute—”   

“Stop, stop.” Principal Yaga presses a palm to his forehead and exhales loudly. “I never asked either of you to start listing your personal preferences. Cut it out, already. And why was Satoru’s name randomly thrown in there?”   

“I can’t help that I’m extremely cool,” Gojo shrugs.   

“Satoru, that’s enough out of you. More importantly, why did you come here?” Principal Yaga asks, now addressing Itadori.   

Itadori looks confused, of course. “Uh… I came here for an interview. I’m pretty sure.”   

“But why Jujutsu High?”   

“To learn… jujutsu? And stuff?”   

“I mean beyond that. What do you hope to find once you’ve studied curses and learned how to exorcize them?”   

This time, Itadori glances towards you, almost as if he’s seeking some kind of guidance. “Beyond that…? Well, I mean, I’m gonna collect all of Sukuna’s remaining fingers. It’s dangerous to just leave them as is.”   

“But why ?” Principal Yaga presses.   

Gojo chuckles and taps you on the shoulder. “This is probably going to go on for a little while. Come. Let’s go wait over there. The principal likes to ramble every now and then.”   

You offer Itadori an encouraging smile. You obviously know what comes next, but that also means that you have full confidence in him. You know that he’ll pass Principal Yaga’s test and get accepted into Jujutsu High. It doesn’t seem you’ll be put through any interviews yourself… probably because you’re not Sukuna’s vessel, but you expect that most people are probably going to be pretty wary of you anyway. Since you’re an anomaly and all that. And since Sukuna couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.   

So, you watch. You watch as Itadori gets smacked around by one of Principal Yaga’s puppets, all the while having to answer the questions he keeps throwing at him nonstop. It’s definitely not fun to have to see your friend get beat up, but again, thanks to the knowledge you have of this world, you’re not worried. And it’s certainly not like anyone’s life is at risk right now.   

That won’t always be the case, though.   

“You pass,” Principal Yaga eventually states, and he cracks a small smile, even offering Itadori his hand so that he can stand up.   

Itadori smiles back at him. “Thank you. It’s nice to properly meet—”   

He promptly gets pummeled by the puppet again.   

“Oops,” Principal Yaga mumbles. “Sorry. I forgot to stop the incantation.”  

“Looks like everything went well,” Gojo muses. He peers down at you curiously. “But I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised. You didn’t look concerned at all. Weren’t you worried that he’d fail? In which case that would mean that his execution date would be pushed up.”  

You shake your head. “I believe in Itadori. I knew he’d be able to pull it off. And… I believe in you too, sensei. You said you’re the one that convinced the higher-ups in the first place, right? I can tell that you’ll protect Itadori. You wouldn’t let him be executed. I trust you completely.”  

You grin ear-to-ear, and even though you can’t see it, Gojo’s eyes briefly widen, underneath his black blindfold. Of course, it’s not the first time people have relied on him. Being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer there is, it comes with the territory. But it’s strange that you’re already willing to put your full faith in him, despite not knowing anything of this new realm you’ve just ventured into.   

Admittedly, it’s rather endearing.  

“You’re exactly right,” Gojo chuckles, reaching out to gently pat your head. “Leave it all to me. I don’t intend to let any of my students get hurt on my watch. It’ll probably all seem overwhelming at first, but you won’t be alone. I promise.”   

Gojo Satoru is patting my head! %$%^*@^$!*!  

Your brain short-circuits for a few moments, and you briefly think that, honestly, you could probably die happy right now.   

Itadori approaches you while you’re still stuck in fangirl mode, and fortunately, you snap out of it in time to congratulate him for passing the principal’s test. Meanwhile, Gojo and Principal Yaga step off to the side.   

“The boy is one thing, but the girl, [Name],” Principal Yaga frowns. “I’ve never come across cursed energy like hers before. And you say that Sukuna himself expressed interest in her?”   

Gojo nods. “It’s even weirder than no one’s noticed her before. With that kind of energy, you would think she’d have stood out a long time ago. But she clearly hasn’t been trained in the ways of jujutsu. It’s almost like she sprung up one day, completely out of nowhere. But surely that kind of cursed energy can’t just randomly appear on the spot. It would make sense if she’d been born with this kind of power and had cultivated it over the years. Do you think it’s possible one of the great clans have been hiding her all this time?”  

“I suppose we can’t rule it out, but it wouldn’t make any sense. If that were the case, she would surely have been trained from a young age.”  

“Well, we’ll just have to look into it, I guess. It’s fine. Better to have her nearby so we can keep an eye on her. I knew from the moment I saw her that I couldn’t just let her go.”   

Gojo stares at you from afar, watching as you and Itadori happily converse. The two of you are so carefree and innocent. You have yet to be exposed to the horrors that the world of jujutsu has to offer. He knows he won’t be able to spare either of you from the bitter reality of things, but all the same, he’s going to fight for your futures.  

After a brief pause, Gojo smiles, then claps his hand together.   

“Alright! With that out of the way, let me show you guys to your dorms.”

“Perfect!” Itadori grins, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Namely, the giant poster of Jennifer Lawrence he just put up on the wall. “Man, these dorms are huge, huh? I wasn’t expecting us to have so much space!”   

“They’re nice,” you agree. “My new dorm is even bigger than my bedroom.”   

Both in this world, and back in the real world.   

“I’m just relieved I was able to make it through the principal’s interview. I wasn’t expecting those dolls of his to come to life! That was pretty crazy, huh?”   

“Y-Yeah. Who could’ve seen that one coming…?”   

“Anyways, Gojo was saying they’re gonna need me to help locate the rest of Sukuna’s fingers,” Itadori continues, adjusting the poster slightly. “‘Cause I’m not just a vessel, but some kind of radar, too. Honestly, I don’t get what’s happening with my body, but I guess there’s not much I can do about it at this point. I really don’t think Sukuna’s gonna cooperate, though. I doubt we’ll be able to come to an agreement that easily.”   

“I’m sure he wants to find the rest of his fingers, because he’s trying to regain his full strength. There’s no way he’d miss out on an opportunity to become more powerful. But… yeah. Be careful,” you nod gravely. “He definitely can’t be trusted.”   

“Why’s he so obsessed with you, anyway? Everyone keeps going on about how you have a whole bunch of cursed energy. Have you always been able to see curses and stuff?”   

“Uh…”   

You’re not sure how to respond. Technically, yes , as in, you’ve been able to see them from the moment you materialized in this world, but you’ve only been here for a solid few weeks. Perhaps you’re better off being honest this time.   

“Only recently,” you admit. “I think I started being able to see them roughly a few weeks ago. I noticed them right about when I transferred into our old high school. There were a couple of small curses hanging around and clinging to people from time to time. But I thought I was going crazy, so I didn’t mention it to anyone.”  

“Damn. That must have been scary. Oh,” he realizes. “Is that why you said you weren’t interested in joining the Occult Club? Because of all the weird stuff you kept seeing?”   

“Um, pretty much. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was all in my head, but I kind of wanted to keep my distance, just to be on the safe side. Sorry. I would’ve been upfront from the start, but… obviously, it’s a bit hard to believe. Especially since you weren’t able to see the curses with your own eyes.”   

Itadori smiles. “You don’t have to apologize. I get that you must have had a lot on your mind, and you’re right that it’d be a pretty difficult topic to bring up. Anyways, don’t worry! I’ll keep Sukuna away from you. It sounds like things are gonna get pretty complicated, but I’m gonna collect all those fingers so that no one else has to get hurt. Including you.”   

“Are you saying you’ll protect me?” you chuckle.   

“Of course! If you ever get scared, don’t hesitate to use me as a shield!”   

Itadori proudly flexes his bicep, and you giggle in response. You have no doubts that he’ll be looking after you along the way, because that’s just the kind of guy he is, but hopefully… you’ll be able to protect him too. You’d like to make his painful life at least a little bit easier.   

“By the way, you asked Gojo for a selfie earlier. I didn’t realize you liked him that much. I guess he is pretty cool, objectively speaking.” Itadori scrunches up his brows. “Is he the kind of guy girls are usually into?”   

“I think it depends. Girls like all kinds of guys. Especially strong, caring guys like you,” you grin.   

You were just being honest and trying to hype him up a bit. Itadori’s a friendly, extroverted guy, after all. You don’t even remember him ever looking embarrassed when you first watched the anime.  

Which is why you’re surprised to see him blushing.  

“R-Really?” he chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I feel like you’re just saying that. But thanks! I appreciate it. While we’re on the topic, I bet most guys would have a crush on you , [Name]! Because you’re so pretty and nice!”   

If there was water in your mouth, you would have probably spat it out right about now.   

You start melting into a little puddle of embarrassment, but thankfully, Fushiguro steps into the room and saves you from some of the humiliation.  

“You guys are so loud,” he grumbles. “And seriously, why’d they put you next door to me? There are a bunch of empty rooms to choose from.”   

“Oh, hey, Fushiguro!” Itadori waves. “Glad to see you look better now. Also, Gojo was saying it’d be more lively and fun if all our dorms were close by.”   

“Classes and missions are more than enough,” Fushiguro mutters, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He stops just in front of you, and of course, that crease in between his brows deepens.  

You strain a smile. “Um… yes? Is there something you wanted to say to me?”   

“Not really. You’re just kind of confusing, if I’m being honest. And you’re weirdly obsessed with Gojo.”   

“Only because he’s hot,” you protest. “I mean—dammit! Because he’s cool ! I like him because he’s cool, okay?!”   

Fushiguro makes no effort to hide his disapproval, and you let out a heavy sigh, eventually hanging your head in defeat. It’s no surprise he doesn’t trust you yet. Your circumstances are far from ordinary, and you even told Itadori outright to eat Sukuna’s finger. If you were in his position, you’d probably have your doubts too.  

Itadori taps both you and Fushiguro on the shoulders. “Hey, guys. [Name]’s selfie with Gojo earlier got me thinking. Now that we’re all gonna be classmates and dorm buddies, we should commemorate this with a photo or something. Right?”   

“I like that idea,” you smile.   

“I don’t ,” Fushiguro grimaces.  

“Okay, let’s all take a selfie together!” Itadori exclaims, and he proceeds to pull you and Fushiguro close—despite the latter’s protests—then he uses your phone to snap a picture of all three of you.   

Just like that, you have a new picture saved. Fushiguro is scowling irritably, of course, and your smile looks a little dorky because it all happened so spur-of-the-moment, but you decide that it’s good as it is. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.   

“I like this picture even more than the one I took with Gojo,” you beam. “I’m gonna make it my lock screen right now.”   

Fushiguro blinks. He wasn’t expecting such a bright, infectious smile. It’s just a selfie. Is it really worth making such a big deal over? He’s not sure why, but something about your expression makes it difficult for him to maintain his grumpy demeanor.   

Even though he doesn’t really want to admit it… you’re kind of cute.   

[needanaccount2readarcaneposts]

every time i read a post about how, "silco kept fighting relentlessly for a free zaun because it's what fELiCiA wOuLd hAvE wAnTed," i add another name to my kill list (in minecraft).

we'll never fucking undo the damage s2 has done to his characterisation.

let people believe in things bigger than themselves without needing some secret twist reason. let people fight for something because they observed an injustice in the world and decided to fucking do something about it, without needing a personal motivation tied to a tragic dead friend/family member/lover/whatever.

it is one thing for s1 to acknowledge that, while silco was always a true believer, his trauma at vander's hands is responsible for informing his view on the need for unflinching ruthlessness; for excising weakness. but s2 is now vander-ifying silco and fandom is eating it right up; making him 'more sympathetic' by suggesting that his determination to keep fighting in the first place was in some way tied to a lost loved one. because in a liberal media framework that serves the interest of capital, it is dangerous to suggest that someone can be motivated by purely ideological reasons and still be sympathetic. can still be right to want what they want, or do what they do.

i'm gonna make Outlaw Kings & Rebellion Chic required reading for everyone, and have included more extracts under the cut, but in summary:

Violence that does not proceed from personal injury requires no such breakdown. This kind of primarily ideological violence can be directed against a perfectly functional system - functional, at least, for the perpetrator - simply because it appears the ‘just’ thing to do. No wonder, then, that in our mass media, the characters practising ideological violence are cast as morally unsound. If normality is not self-evident but a site of contention, then it problematises easy narratives of rebels vs tyrants. And if dispute over the political system is enough to justify force, then that implies violence against the modern Western state, even its violent overthrow, could be justifiable. This is understandably concerning for many writers, who tend to come from backgrounds closer to the Lannisters than the ‘smallfolk’.

If a person can commit violence simply because they believe it’s right, without any hidden ambition, then nothing stops us from acting to change the world.

Separately, there is in screenwriting a kind of uncodified rule: villains act, heroes react. The hero, according to traditional Hollywood structure, can’t fulfil their destiny until an extraordinary event drags them out of the world they know. More often than not, that event begins with the villain. Harry Potter is only the Chosen One because Lord Voldemort killed his parents. Luke Skywalker would have stayed on Tatooine dreaming of adventure, until Darth Vader’s attack on a rebel ship sends a secret message to his farm. Frodo would be safe and happy in Hobbiton if not for Sauron. Heroes rarely set out to change the world. Villains want change, and heroes run to keep up. [...] Many of these characters live with occupation, oppression, and state brutality as part of their daily lives, but they don’t turn to violent resistance until their families are directly threatened or killed. When heroes commit political violence, it must be to avenge a personal injury. This is supposed to be substantively different from political violence committed for ideological reasons, which receives a much less sympathetic treatment. [...] When we see violent characters who kill for primarily political reasons, they are often anti-heroes at best, outright villains at worst. The idea of the full circle revolution - of the secret dictator hiding in the throat of every rebel leader, waiting to leap out and betray the non-ideological hero - is utterly pervasive. It appears in videogames, where good old-fashioned all-American heroes like Jim Raynor of Starcraft or Booker DeWitt of Bioshock Infinite are betrayed by villainous revolutionaries Arcturus Mengsk and Daisy Fitzroy (and after all they’ve done for them!). It is common in films, from supervillains like Magneto and Killmonger, liberationists written as would-be conquerors, to the rebels of The Hunger Games, who vote to continue the games as soon as they’re in power, except with the children of the dethroned elite rather than the children of the poor. The same reversal is mentioned in A Song of Ice and Fire, where rebel slaves, once liberated, enslave their former masters; in the TV version, an evil fundamentalist visits the kind of cruelty on the King’s Landing nobility that they visited on others. In all these examples we see an echo of the primal fear of every oppressive class, the nightmare at the heart of modern white supremacy: what if someone did to us what we’ve done to them? Liberation is re-imagined as the world turned not so much upside-down but mirrored. [...]

Rensin attributes the hatred of the High Sparrow to his hypocrisy, but I don’t think that’s quite right. What is terrible about the High Sparrow is that he has no personal grievance. He didn’t see his father killed by the ‘good guys’, like Killmonger. His family weren’t murdered by his oppressors, like Magneto. By his own account the High Sparrow was a cobbler who became disillusioned, found religion, and now, thanks to the vagaries of a civil war among the elite, finds himself in a position to overturn the social order. The feudal system of Westeros never injured him personally. He simply came to believe it should be torn down, and acted accordingly.

We seem to find this faintly repellent. We are so used to looking for an ulterior motive that, when we can’t find one, we grow uncomfortable. If a good person can commit violence simply because they believe it’s right, without any hidden ambition, then nothing stops us from acting to change the world. [...] Violence that does not proceed from personal injury requires no such breakdown. This kind of primarily ideological violence can be directed against a perfectly functional system - functional, at least, for the perpetrator - simply because it appears the ‘just’ thing to do. No wonder, then, that in our mass media, the characters practising ideological violence are cast as morally unsound. If normality is not self-evident but a site of contention, then it problematises easy narratives of rebels vs tyrants. And if dispute over the political system is enough to justify force, then that implies violence against the modern Western state, even its violent overthrow, could be justifiable. This is understandably concerning for many writers, who tend to come from backgrounds closer to the Lannisters than the ‘smallfolk’.

[priestess777]

Mini list of what I have manifested this month:

1. Money, a lot of money. If I said I have 5k I got 5k. If I said whatever money I spend I get it in tenfolds it happens exactly like that.

2. My laptop’s keypad was not working, but I made it work. 👽

3. Getting back electricity at the same second my data was finished, not even a difference of milliseconds, I wanted to use WiFi. ✌️

4. Eating whatever I want to and not gaining weight instead I have programmed myself that every time I eat something junk my weight stays the same or I lose weight.

5. I wanted to gift my friend something beautiful but affordable too, I decided that I’ll give her a cute aesthetic branded ceramic mug and bowl, fast forward, I stumbled upon a website which was selling everything at rupees 1, yes 1. It was like a flash discount, so I got her everything 🤭 and I spent only 4 rupees. 🤭

6. Been doomscrolling a lot so my eyesight was pretty hazy, but now it’s crystal clear.

7. I wanted to buy a lipgloss, my friend accidentally bought two and I got one for free.

8. My mom’s mood getting better ❤️‍🩹 I love her but sometimes she’s just too emotional and can’t handle other’s pain and it affects her, so I changed it.

9. I have finals coming up, so I got myself a photographic memory and now I remember everything and I know everything about my huge ass course.

I’ll come back with more manifestation success stories.

Happy manifesting!

Xoxo.

[theartofcollapse]

Her Intern - Casey Novak

a/n: i'm taking requests, so feel free to dm me :) summary: Casey begins to develop unexpected feelings for her intern, Y/N. pairing: Casey Novak x female reader warnings: none word count: 5.1K

masterlist

Casey Novak was never one to flinch in the face of the unexpected. As an Assistant District Attorney, her job demanded quick thinking, ironclad resolve, and a moral compass that rarely wavered. Yet here she sat, staring blankly at the case file in front of her, completely derailed by something, or rather, someone.

You.

Her new intern, Y/N. Bright, capable, and passionate about justice in a way that reminded Casey of herself when she first started. You were sharp, your insights always cutting straight to the heart of the matter, and your enthusiasm was infectious. But it wasn’t just your intellect that threw Casey off balance. It was your smile. The way you’d bite your lip when you were deep in thought. The way your laughter would echo softly in her office when you’d share a joke.

And that’s what terrified her.

She had never been attracted to women before. Never. But here she was, feeling her cheeks warm whenever you entered the room, her heartbeat quickening when your eyes met hers.

It was enough to send her into a tailspin.

That evening, she found herself at Forlini’s, nursing a glass of wine and waiting for Olivia Benson. She’d called her friend in a semi-panic, vaguely explaining that she needed advice. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Olivia said as she slid into the booth across from Casey.

“I feel like I have,” Casey muttered, running a hand through her auburn hair.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Casey hesitated, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. How was she supposed to explain this without sounding completely unhinged? Finally, she sighed and decided to just rip off the Band-Aid.

“There’s… someone,” she began.

Olivia’s lips quirked into a knowing smirk. “Ah, so this is a crush talk. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Casey winced. “That’s the thing, it’s not a guy.”

Olivia blinked, her smirk fading into something more thoughtful. She leaned forward, giving Casey her full attention. “Okay. Tell me more.”

“It’s my intern,” Casey admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N.”

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. “Your intern?”

“I know it’s inappropriate,” Casey rushed to say. “And I’m not acting on it. God, I’d never act on it. But I… I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s brilliant, and she’s kind, and…”

“And she’s a woman,” Olivia finished gently.

Casey nodded; her throat tight. “I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. It’s throwing me off. I don’t even know what to do with these feelings. Am I going crazy?”

Olivia reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on Casey’s. “You’re not crazy. Trust me, I’ve had my share of confusing feelings about people I never expected to fall for. Sometimes the heart doesn’t care about what’s ‘expected.’ It just knows what it wants.”

Casey stared at Olivia, her chest tightening. “But what if I don’t know what I want? I’ve never even considered..”

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” Olivia said firmly. “This isn’t about labels or figuring out your entire identity in one night. It’s about acknowledging what you’re feeling and letting yourself sit with it. And if you want to talk about it more, you know I’m here.”

Casey exhaled, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. Olivia always had a way of cutting through the chaos in her mind.

“Thanks, Liv,” she said softly.

“Anytime,” Olivia replied with a smile. Then, with a teasing glint in her eye, she added, “But for the record? You’ve got good taste. Y/N seems pretty incredible.”

Casey laughed; the sound surprising even herself. 

The next morning, Casey walked into the DA’s office determined to keep her emotions in check. She reminded herself that she was a professional, and whatever strange feelings she had for you didn’t change the fact that you were her intern.

But all her resolve flew out the window the moment she saw you.

You were perched at your desk, typing away on your laptop. Your brow was furrowed in concentration, and a strand of hair had fallen across your face. Without thinking, Casey stopped in her tracks and just watched you.

It wasn’t until you looked up and caught her staring that she snapped out of it.

“Good morning, Ms. Novak,” you said brightly, offering her one of those smiles that seemed to light up the entire office.

Casey’s heart did an unprofessional little flip. “Good morning, Y/N,” she said, forcing her voice to stay even.

You tilted your head, studying her for a moment. “You okay? You look like you didn’t get much sleep.”

Casey cleared her throat and brushed past you toward her desk. “I’m fine. Just a late night.”

This was getting ridiculous.

The day wore on, and Casey tried to throw herself into work, but you were always there handing her files, asking for feedback, discussing strategies for cases. Your enthusiasm was infectious, and as much as Casey hated to admit it, she found herself looking forward to your conversations.

But it also made her job harder. How was she supposed to focus on cross-examinations and legal briefs when her thoughts kept drifting to the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your goals?

By lunchtime, Casey knew she needed a break. She grabbed her coat and told you she’d be back in an hour, then headed to the park for some much needed fresh air.

She was halfway through her walk when her phone buzzed with a text.

Olivia: How’s it going? Still freaking out?

Casey rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. She quickly typed back.

Casey: Yes. But I’m handling it. Sort of.

Olivia: “Sort of” isn’t exactly reassuring. You want to talk tonight?

Casey hesitated. She appreciated Olivia’s support, but she also knew she couldn’t keep running to her every time she got overwhelmed.

Casey: No, I’ll be okay. Thanks, Liv.

She put her phone away and took a deep breath. She needed to figure this out on her own.

When she returned to the office, you were waiting for her in her chair, flipping through a case file.

“You’re back!” you said with a grin, standing up. “I was just going over the deposition for the Simmons case. I had a few ideas I wanted to run by you.”

Casey nodded, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Let’s hear them.”

You launched into your thoughts, pacing the room as you spoke. Casey watched you, completely captivated not just by what you were saying, but by the way you said it. The passion in your voice, the determination in your eyes.

It hit her all at once: she was falling for you.

Hard.

And she had no idea what to do about it.

That evening, after you’d left for the day, Casey sat alone in her office, staring at her reflection in the darkened window. She thought about what Olivia had said the night before, about sitting with her feelings and not rushing to figure everything out.

Maybe that was the answer. She didn’t have to act on her feelings or even fully understand them right now. All she had to do was acknowledge them.

And maybe, just maybe, she could let herself enjoy the way you made her feel, terrifying as it was.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of late nights and high-stakes cases. Casey buried herself in work, thinking the chaos of her job would be enough to keep her feelings for you at bay. But no matter how many hours she spent in court or how many legal briefs she pored over; she couldn’t escape the growing connection between the two of you.

And, to make matters worse, you seemed completely oblivious to the way you were throwing her world off balance.

One night, after everyone else had gone home, you knocked lightly on Casey’s office door. She looked up, startled to see you still there.

“Y/N?” she asked, setting aside the stack of papers she’d been pretending to read. “What are you still doing here?”

You stepped inside, holding up a thick file. “I wanted to go over the witness prep for tomorrow. There are a few things I think we should address.”

Casey sighed, gesturing for you to sit. “You should be home. It’s late.”

You smiled as you took the seat across from her desk. “So should you.”

Casey rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling back. “Touché. Okay, let’s hear it.”

As you walked her through your notes, Casey found herself hanging on every word. You were so sharp, so intuitive, it was impossible not to admire your mind. But it wasn’t just your intelligence that drew her in. It was the way your eyes sparkled when you got excited about an idea. The way your voice softened when you spoke about the victims they were fighting for.

Before she knew it, an hour had passed, and the two of you were still talking.

“I think that’s everything,” you said finally, closing the file with a satisfied smile. “Thanks for staying late to go over it with me.”

“Of course,” Casey replied, her voice softer than she intended.

For a moment, the room was quiet. You glanced down at your hands, then back up at her.

“Can I ask you something?” you said hesitantly.

Casey’s stomach tightened. “Sure.”

“Do you ever get scared that you’ll mess up? That you’ll make the wrong call, and it’ll cost someone everything?”

Casey’s heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “All the time,” she admitted. “This job is terrifying. But you can’t let that fear stop you. You just have to do the best you can with what you have. And trust that it’s enough.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “That helps. Thanks, Ms. Novak.”

“Casey,” she corrected gently. “You can call me Casey.”

Your eyes widened slightly, as if the offer surprised you. But then your smile grew, warm and genuine. “Okay. Thanks, Casey.”

Something shifted in the air between you. It was subtle, but Casey felt it.

She quickly stood, breaking the moment. “We should both get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

You nodded, standing as well. “Goodnight, Casey.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

As you walked out of her office, Casey let out a shaky breath. She leaned against her desk, her thoughts spinning.

For weeks, she’d been trying to suppress her feelings for you, convincing herself that they were a distraction. But now, as she replayed your conversation in her mind, she realized something else.

Her feelings weren’t just a distraction. They were a source of inspiration. You reminded her why she’d become a lawyer in the first place, why she fought so hard for justice, even when the odds were stacked against her. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

The weeks that followed were a quiet evolution. Casey remained as professional as ever, maintaining the boundaries that were expected of her. But beneath her polished exterior, she allowed herself the smallest moments of indulgence, moments where she let herself appreciate you without guilt or panic.

Like the way your focus sharpened when you were cross-referencing evidence, your pen tapping softly against your lip as you thought. Or the way you carried yourself with confidence and compassion in the courtroom, even during the toughest cases. Casey noticed it all.

And she also noticed how natural it felt to have you in her orbit.

One particularly late evening, the office was quiet again, save for the sound of papers rustling in Casey’s office. You were there, as usual, seated across from her with a cup of coffee in hand. The two of you had developed an easy rhythm, debating legal strategies, tossing ideas back and forth, and even exchanging dry quips when the cases became too heavy.

Tonight, you were working on a high-profile trial, and the tension in the air was palpable.

“This witness is our best shot,” you said, your voice steady but thoughtful as you scanned the notes. “But I’m worried their credibility might take a hit if the defence brings up their record.”

Casey leaned back in her chair, watching you for a moment before responding. “You’re right. We need to get ahead of it. Acknowledge the record before the defence can weaponize it and then redirect the jury’s focus back to the facts. It’s a risk, but it’s the only way to keep their testimony intact.”

There was a beat of silence as you made a note in the margins of the file. Then, without looking up, you said, “You’re really good at this.”

Casey blinked, caught off guard. “At what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely around her office. “Making tough calls, strategizing, keeping everything together. It’s inspiring, honestly.”

Casey felt a warmth rise in her chest at your words. She cleared her throat, attempting to downplay the compliment. “It’s just part of the job.”

You finally looked up, meeting her eyes. “It’s more than that, Casey. You care about these cases, about these people. It shows.”

Her name on your lips sent a small shiver down her spine, but she kept her composure. “I appreciate that,” she said softly.

The moment lingered, a quiet understanding passing between you. Then you broke the silence with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all sentimental. Guess I’m just tired.”

Casey chuckled, the tension easing. “It’s okay. I’ll allow it this once.”

You laughed, and the sound felt like a balm against the stress of the day.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, you finally stretched and stood, gathering your things. “I should get going before I fall asleep in your office.”

Casey stood as well, walking you to the door. “Get some rest, Y/N. We’ll pick this up in the morning.”

You nodded, giving her one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.

Casey lingered at the doorway for a moment, watching you go. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

This was enough, she decided. She didn’t need to analyse or act on her feelings, not when she could have these moments with you. You were in her life, and that was enough.

Over time, your dynamic deepened. There were no grand confessions, no sweeping gestures just small, quiet moments that slowly built a foundation of trust and understanding.

Casey found herself looking forward to your presence, not just for your insights but for the way you lightened the weight of her work. And though she never said it aloud, she hoped you felt the same.

A cold winter wind swept through the streets as you and Casey exited the courthouse. It had been a long day, closing arguments for a particularly brutal case had drained both of you, but the jury was deliberating now, and all that was left to do was wait.

“Want to grab a coffee?” you asked, tightening the scarf around your neck as you walked beside her. “I think we’ve earned it after today.”

Casey hesitated, glancing at her watch. She rarely allowed herself these little detours, preferring to keep her professional life strictly business. But when she looked at you, your cheeks flushed from the cold, your smile hopeful, she found herself saying, “Sure. There’s a place a block over.”

The two of you ducked into a small café, the warmth inside instantly soothing. You placed your order and found a quiet table by the window while Casey waited at the counter for her coffee. As she stood there, she caught herself glancing in your direction. You were scrolling through your phone, your brow furrowed in concentration, and Casey felt a now-familiar tug in her chest.

It was a strange, delicate feeling, this quiet pull toward you. She’d always been good at compartmentalizing her emotions, but with you, it felt impossible. Every time you were near, her guard slipped just a little.

When she returned to the table, coffee in hand, you looked up and smiled. “Thanks for this. I needed it.”

Casey sat across from you, her fingers curling around her cup. “No need to thank me. I needed it, too.”

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a moment, watching the snow flurry outside the window. Then you turned to her, your expression soft.

“How do you stay so composed all the time?” you asked, leaning forward slightly. “I mean, today’s case was… awful. And yet, you were so steady, so in control. I don’t know how you do it.”

Casey’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sincerity in your voice. “I don’t always feel steady,” she admitted after a moment. “Most of the time, I’m just as affected as everyone else. I just don’t show it.”

You nodded, as though you’d suspected as much. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

Casey’s heart skipped a beat. She looked down at her coffee, hoping you wouldn’t notice the faint blush creeping up her neck. “I’m just doing my job.”

“You do it really well,” you said softly.

Something in your tone made her look up, and when your eyes met, she felt that pull again, stronger this time, almost tangible.

Her pulse quickened, and for a brief, reckless moment, she wondered what it would be like to let her guard down completely. To tell you the truth about the way she felt.

But then she reminded herself of who she was and what was at stake.

She broke eye contact, taking a sip of her coffee to steady herself. “Thank you,” she said finally, her voice measured.

You didn’t press her further.

Casey woke up the next morning feeling unsettled. She had dreamed of you again, not in any explicit or dramatic way, but in a quiet, tender moment that felt more vivid than reality. The two of you had been standing in her office, the room lit only by the soft glow of a desk lamp. You were smiling at her, and she’d reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against your hand.

The dream had felt safe, comforting, but now, in the harsh light of morning, it left her rattled.

Shaking the thought from her head, she got ready for the day and headed to the office.

By the time she arrived, you were already there, flipping through a case file with a look of concentration. Casey hesitated in the doorway, her pulse quickening at the sight of you. It was becoming a habit, this quiet moment of watching you before you noticed her.

“Good morning,” she said finally, stepping into the room.

You glanced up, your expression brightening. “Morning, Casey.”

There it was again, her name, spoken so easily by you. It shouldn’t have made her heart stutter, but it did.

“Big day today,” you said, gesturing to the stack of files on your desk. “Jury’s coming back with a verdict this afternoon.”

Casey nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Let’s make sure we’re prepared, no matter which way it goes.”

The hours passed in a blur of meetings and last-minute preparations. Casey threw herself into the work, but every now and then, her gaze would drift toward you.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that she allowed herself a break. She sat alone in her office, staring at the untouched takeout pasta on her desk.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself.

But the truth was, she couldn’t. Not entirely. You’d become a fixture in her thoughts, and no amount of logic or professionalism could change that.

For so long, Casey had prided herself on her control. But you were unravelling her in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

And it wasn’t just the attraction that threw her off. It was the way you made her feel seen, understood. The way your presence brought a sense of lightness to her otherwise heavy world.

She thought back to her conversation with Olivia weeks ago. Sometimes the heart doesn’t care about what’s expected. It just knows what it wants.

But what did she want?

The thought haunted her for the rest of the day, even as the jury returned with a guilty verdict and you both celebrated a hard-fought win.

That evening, as you packed up to leave, you paused by her office door.

“Good work today, Casey,” you said, your smile warm. “You were incredible in there.”

Casey managed a small smile in return. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

You laughed, the sound sending a familiar warmth through her chest.

“See you tomorrow,” you said, giving her a little wave before disappearing down the hallway.

Casey watched you go, her mind a tangle of emotions.

The precinct was buzzing with laughter and conversation, the air filled with the scent of mulled cider and pine. The annual Christmas party was in full swing, a rare moment of levity in the chaos of their work.

Casey had almost skipped the event entirely, but she’d let Olivia talk her into it. “You work too hard, Casey. You deserve one night to just be human,” she’d said with a smirk.

Now, standing by the bar with a glass of wine in hand, Casey regretted letting herself be persuaded. She felt out of place among the twinkling lights and festive chatter. But then she saw you.

You were across the room, talking to Detective Tuttle from Vice. You were wearing a simple but elegant black dress, your hair falling loosely around your shoulders. You looked radiant, and Casey’s breath hitched as she watched you laugh at something Tuttle had said.

And then Tuttle leaned in, a little too close.

Casey’s grip on her wineglass tightened. She tried to focus on the conversation around her, but her attention kept drifting back to you.

Tuttle was laughing now, his hand resting lightly on your arm. You didn’t seem to mind, you were smiling, your eyes crinkling at the corners the way they always did when you were genuinely amused.

Casey felt a wave of something she couldn’t quite name. Jealousy? Protectiveness? It was a sharp, unfamiliar pang, and it unsettled her.

“Careful, Novak. You’re glaring,” came Olivia’s voice, low and teasing, at her side.

Casey turned sharply to find Olivia holding a beer, her expression far too amused.

“I’m not glaring,” Casey said, her tone clipped.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You’ve been staring at Y/N and Tuttle for five minutes straight.”

“I’m not…” Casey stopped herself, exhaling sharply. She looked away, taking a sip of her wine.

Olivia smirked, leaning in slightly. “You know, if you’re feeling territorial, there’s a simple solution.”

“I’m not feeling territorial,” Casey snapped, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her.

Olivia just chuckled, taking a sip of her beer. “Sure, Casey. Whatever you say.”

Casey tried to ignore her, but when she glanced back at you and saw Tuttle leaning in again, this time whispering something in your ear, she couldn’t stay silent any longer.

Before she could stop herself, she set her glass down and crossed the room.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended.

You looked up, startled. “Casey! Hey, I didn’t know you were here.”

Tuttle straightened, clearly surprised by Casey’s sudden appearance. “Novak,” he said, nodding politely.

Casey barely acknowledged him. Her attention was focused entirely on you.

“Can I steal you for a moment?” she asked, her tone leaving little room for argument.

“Uh, sure,” you said, glancing at Tuttle apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to him. Who cares about him?!” Casey mumbled under her breath.

She led you toward a quieter corner of the room, her pulse racing. She didn’t know what she was going to say, she only knew she couldn’t stand watching someone else flirt with you.

“Is everything okay?” you asked once you were alone, your brows furrowed in concern.

Casey hesitated, suddenly aware of how irrational she might seem. But the words spilled out before she could stop them.

“I didn’t like the way Tuttle was looking at you,” she admitted, her voice low.

You blinked, taken aback. “Tuttle? He was just being friendly.”

Casey shook her head. “It wasn’t just friendly.”

Your lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across your face. “Why do you care?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Casey felt her throat tighten. She could deflect, make an excuse, brush it off. But as she looked into your eyes - wide and questioning - she realized she didn’t want to hide anymore.

“Because I like you,” she said softly, the words trembling on the edge of a confession.

You stared at her, your expression unreadable. “Casey…”

“I know it’s unprofessional,” she continued quickly, her voice quiet but firm. “I know I’m your supervisor, and I’ve tried to push these feelings away, but I can’t. You’re important to me, Y/N.”

The silence between you was deafening. Casey’s heart pounded in her chest, every second stretching into an eternity.

Finally, you spoke, your voice soft. “I… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Casey let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. But seeing him with you, it made me realize I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore.”

You looked at her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in your eyes. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at your lips.

“I’m glad you told me,” you said gently.

Casey blinked, her breath catching. “You are?”

You nodded. “I’ve always admired you, Casey. And I’ve always felt something. But I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way. I mean, you’re you, after all.”

Relief washed over her like a tidal wave, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe again.

“Maybe we should talk about this,” you said, your smile widening. “But somewhere less public.”

Casey chuckled softly, the tension in her shoulders easing. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”

The precinct’s Christmas party ended with a warmth Casey hadn’t expected, both from the holiday spirit in the room and from the lingering glow of your smile as you’d left together to talk.

The two of you found yourselves in a quiet dive bar down the block, the buzz of the party left behind. It was cozy and dimly lit, with only a few other patrons sipping mulled wine or beer.

Casey fiddled with the corner of her napkin, her nerves showing in the way her fingers fidgeted. You sat across from her, your eyes warm and patient, giving her the space she clearly needed.

“So,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “Where do we start?”

Casey looked up at you, her lips pressing together in a tight line before she exhaled and finally spoke. “I don’t know. This isn’t something I’ve ever… dealt with before.”

Your head tilted slightly, a soft smile on your lips. “You mean liking someone you work with?”

Casey hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I mean… liking a woman.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and Casey rushed to explain. “I didn’t even realize it at first. I thought it was just admiration, or respect, or...” She paused, closing her eyes briefly. “But then, you’d smile, or laugh, or just walk into the room, and everything felt different.”

She opened her eyes, meeting your gaze, and there was something vulnerable there, something raw. “It scared me. It still scares me.”

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing against hers. “Casey, it’s okay. I know this is new for you, but you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Casey stared at your hand on hers, the warmth of your touch grounding her. “What if this complicates things?” she asked quietly.

You smiled, squeezing her hand lightly. “It might. But I think it’s worth it, don’t you?”

Her breath caught at the sincerity in your voice, and for a moment, all the fears and doubts melted away. She nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think it is.”

The two of you stayed there for a while, talking about everything and nothing. Casey found herself relaxing, her usual guarded demeanour softening as she let herself just be with you.

The next day at the office, things felt surprisingly normal. Professional, but easy, like always. It wasn’t until later in the day, when you brought her coffee without her asking, that she caught your knowing smile and felt a flicker of something new, something exciting.

Olivia caught on first, of course.

“So,” she said casually one evening as she leaned against Casey’s desk. “You and Y/N seemed pretty cozy at the Christmas party.”

Casey didn’t look up from her file. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Olivia smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure you don’t.”

Casey sighed, finally meeting her gaze. “It’s… new.”

“And?”

Casey hesitated, then allowed herself a small smile. “And it feels right.”

Olivia grinned, clapping her on the shoulder. “Good for you, Novak. Just don’t let McCoy catch wind of it. You know how he is.”

“I know,” Casey said, rolling her eyes. “We’re keeping it discreet.”

And you did. At work, nothing changed. Your professional rapport remained strong, your banter sharp, your respect for each other unshakable.

But in the quiet moments, when no one else was around, there was a new kind of intimacy. A lingering glance. A brush of hands as you passed her a file. A shared smile that spoke volumes without a single word.

One evening, weeks later, the two of you were working late in her office. The building was quiet, most of the staff long gone, and the only light came from the lamp on her desk.

You stood by the window, gazing out at the city lights, your arms crossed over your chest.

Casey watched you from her chair, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “What are you thinking about?”

You glanced back at her, your expression thoughtful. “How lucky I am to be here. To work with someone like you.”

She stood and crossed the room, stopping beside you. “The feeling’s mutual,” she said softly.

You turned to face her, your eyes searching hers. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, slowly, tentatively, she reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m still figuring this out,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to figure it out with you.”

Your smile was gentle, your hand coming up to rest on hers. “You’re not alone in this, Casey. I’m right here.”

And in that quiet moment, with the city glowing behind you and the world feeling far away, Casey leaned in, her lips brushing softly against yours. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic, it was gentle, tentative, and filled with the kind of emotion she’d spent so long trying to ignore.

When she pulled back, her heart pounding, you smiled at her, your eyes shining.

“I think we’re going to be okay,” you said softly.

Casey smiled, her fears fading in the warmth of your presence. “Yeah. I think we are.”

[the-cauldron-witch]

Howdy T'Witch! It makes me so happy that you got your blog all up and designed! Those are big days and I’m happy that it looks so good! Hopefully you think so too!

I say that your writing requests were open and I’d love to pick your brain on some light angst if you’re up for it! No worries if you ain’t because hey understandable. The holidays be crazyyyyyy 🤪

But maybe to something to think about if you’re bored and whatever. But I wanted to ask on how do you think the Bayverse Boys would respond to you (y/n) getting amnesia and forgetting about them completely for whatever reason for how ever long? Do you think they’d try to rejog their memory or try to love them better with the chance of a fresh start? Or something else entirely. I am curious and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve got the time and energy. Thanks for existing!

Hey Anon! (It’s weird to type this and have you not actually be an anon lmao)

I am very happy I finally have my blog up and running how I like, it finally feels like a little home to me. Thank you for noticing! 🫂🫂🫂

Thank you so much for sending an ask, I’m going to have fun with this one! I’m giving them a happy ending though, cause I can’t write angst and not give my boys a good ending. (Also completely unedited and not proof read lol)

Leonardo

The worry and anxiety he feels in the pit of his stomach like he swallowed a lead weight is one thing, but the chest-clenching heartbreak when you shriek at the sight of him and had no recollection of his existence is another.

He keeps a stoic face once you’ve calmed down and while explaining who he is to you, but really this poor guy is absolutely gutted. It takes so much of him to keep a straight face.

Still a bit of a helicopter, using any subtle opportunity to jog your memory of himself. He’ll make a cup of tea for you in the exact way he did on your first date, subtly comment on your outfit when he recognizes it’s something he bought you, anything he could think of to hopefully remind you.

This man does not sleep the entire time. You aren’t sleeping in his bed, how could he anyway? Once he is sure you are fully asleep, he comes to check on you. Listen to see if you talk in your sleep, mumbling about memories or just in case a nightmare decides to haunt you.

When he can’t check on you or do really anything else, he’s meditating in order to keep his emotions in line. He’s completely destroyed, so meditating for hours on end is the only way he can keep himself in check.

Although he’s snappy, irritable, and driving everyone but you away, what Leo really needs is one of his brothers to ignore the attitude and just stand there and let him get it out. By the time he’s done he’s already apologized a hundred times, he’s just lost and broken hearted.

Out of all his brothers, Raph is probably the one that cracks him and gets him to just spit it out. They all know what’s going on and how much Leo’s hurting from it all, but he still needs to let it out. Raph can handle the attitude with ease, brushing it aside and letting Leo get himself together

After what feels like an eternity, you gain your memory back at the most random of times while you happened to be watching him practice his kata. When you start babbling memories excitedly, he picks you up in a hug and cries into you.

It doesn’t matter if anyone’s watching, he’s crying and just so grateful that you remember who he is. Weeping tears of joy and the bottled anxiety finally burst as he holds you. Bear with this poor guy, it’s been a ride for both of you really.

Raphael

This poor guy is so surprised and in shock when you don’t remember him, he thinks you’re playing some sort of prank on him at first.

“Heh- babe, c’mon…don’t joke around like dat”

Once it hits him that this isn’t a prank or joke, you genuinely do not know who he is, Raph practically shuts down.

The love of his life doesn’t remember who he is, even looks at him like he’s the monster he felt he was before meeting you. It breaks his heart so much he locks himself away for a day or two, unfortunately leaving you more confused.

When you start wanting to be near him- no, needing to be near him, is when he starts coming around. He found you pacing back and forth in front of his bedroom door like a cat waiting to enter a closed off room one night.

You couldn’t explain it, but you have this invisible pull and primal need to be near him somehow. To be close, even touching him. Although you don’t remember why, you just know you need to,

Raph starts coming out of his room and trying to act normal, but when his brothers look him in the face an see how red and raw his eyes are, the dark circles, and the heartbreak in his eyes, they know it’s just an act but wisely choose not to comment.

He catches you staring at him while he’s working out, chuckling as you bashfully try to shy away. He doesn’t tease or joke though, instead encourages you to come watch

“I miss my favorite spotting partner,” Raph admits, hoping that will help jog your memory a little. It doesn’t outright, but you do find yourself already knowing how to spot him.

After a few days of you following Raph around like a lost puppy, your memory finally comes crashing back to you when Raph slipped the boxing gloves on you for practice.

Relief. So much relief it washes over Raph like a tidal wave that nearly knocks him off his feet. He holds you and kisses you, telling you repeatedly how grateful and happy he is you have your memory and you’re here. The tears will come at night while the two of you are in bed for the night, but he holds you and everything is okay.

Donatello

Initiate full on analytical mode. He is immediately going through a thousand different scenarios and cures in his head, he almost forgets that *you forgot* who he was all together, so his babbling did nothing to calm you down.

Even with all his knowledge and abilities, it still doesn’t negate the overwhelming emotions he feels when you don’t recognize him. It hurts, makes it hard for Donnie to even breathe, but he hides it behind his science and research.

Sitting in front of his computer for days on end in between checking up on your, it becomes almost like an obsession for Donnie to get your memory back. At the risk of his own health and wellbeing, he does not stop.

From using scents he knows you enjoy, like that cologne you bought for him as a gift or your favorite body wash, tasting your favorite coffee or the tiramisu Donnie bought for the two of you on a date once.

Let’s put on that movie we watched on that one Valentine’s weekend; you were obsessed with it for weeks!

Oh, what if Donnie took you to that rooftop the two of you saw a comet in the night sky once? It was absolutely beautiful, but wasn’t nearly as beautiful as you, he confided.

Countless hours of research keep Donnie from sleeping, honestly at one point contemplating how he could just straight main-line caffeine into his blood stream to stay awake.

Without warning one night, you come into his lab and demand he sleep. Not ask, not coax, you demand Donnie to get in bad with you and get some sleep. He questions if you’ve finally gotten your memory back, but sadly no. And he’s crushed. But you still demand he lay down in bed with you.

Crawling into bed with you with awkward limbs, Donnie is surprised that you lay down exactly as you always do with him. Even without memory, it was like your body still remembered how you fit together.

Quiet tears fall as Donnie holds onto you, sleep mercifully taking him into a deep slumber. Guilt crawled its way into your stomach while trying to sleep, wishing that your memory would just return so you could stop all of this.

Waking up in the morning, you blinked with shock as you look at Donnie- looked at him like you knew him again. And you did. You had woken up with your memory by some miracle.

Kissing and hugging you with love and relief, Donnie can’t keep his hands off of you or keep the tears from smudging his glasses. It was all so hard to believe while it was happening that now it was over, it felt like the end of a tornado.

The two of you decide to sleep in a little longer, only because Donnie could barely hold his eyes open. Frankly, sleep was probably what you needed too after all this.

Michelangelo

Confused. Downright, no jokes confused. How could you not remember him so suddenly? Time just doesn’t erase like that right?

Mikey asks Donnie a million and one questions, repeating or re-wording them or giving scenarios. It drives his brother mad, but he tries to be lenient because Donnie knows how terrified his younger brother is.

He caters to you in every way; offers to get you a drink, make you something to eat, get you a pillow, it becomes a little overwhelming, but you don’t know how to tell him to stop.

When Mikey tries to kiss you and pull away, it was like you could practically hear the way his heart shatters like glass. But he hides it with a smile and flirts, telling you he won you over once, he could do it again.

This is when he starts to flirt with you like he did before the two of you started dating, but with far more strategy and knowledge. Comments about how sweet you are while making your favorite chocolate pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream

Tells you how amazing you look in that shirt or those pants, mostly because he was the one to buy them.

He’ll give you your favorite kind of gifts; favorite flowers, candy, stuffed animals, anything he can think of giving you and jog your memory. Each time it doesn’t work, he’s crushed a little bit more, but he keeps trying.

Plays movies that you and Mikey watched together, shared music playlists the two of you built together over the period of your relationship, and whatever else he could possibly think of. But it still didn’t work.

When you aren’t anywhere near to see, Mikey with let himself cry for a moment out of frustration and sadness that you don’t remember him. It hurts, but by the time you are near he has a smile back on his face.

He thought you were sleeping one night when you found him crying down one of the sewer tunnels away from the lair. The sight broke your heart, which for some reason jogged your memory. Rushing to hug and kiss him, you damn near scared Mikey out of his shell.

“Angelcakes, you remember!?” Mikey shouts, picking you up and spinning you in a massive hug. Thank the pizza Gods, he had you back!

Taglist

@silverwatergalaxy @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

@yorshie @truffle-reblogs @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @thepinkpanther83

@avery73 @luckycharms1701 @tmnt-tychou @suksiskovaikkakuuseen @milykins @justalotoffanfiction

[thevoidgalactic]

For one moment, I wish you’d hold your stage with no feelings at all.

[𝘚𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘌𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘛𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥.]

—

Why can’t Artemis see his point of view?

After all, it’s the most logical.

There it was again.

That incessant whining. Reminiscent of that of a child, even. Every time he thought that it was over with, it came back, somehow more bothersome than before.

Artemis.

Helios groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. It was always like this; Artemis would get upset over some futile thing, and he’d be left to try and talk sense into them. And the creature had no sense.

They shouldn’t call Artemis a creature, they knew. That was his sibling, for Harmonia’s sake. However—they did act like they had the intelligence of a bird. So maybe he was justified.

He’d try to ignore it, Helios decided. There was no logic in trying to argue with them.

…

Fuck.

Helios narrowed his eyes, then quickly stood up from his desk, knocking over a few papers. “[For the love of—]” He started, trailing off as he walked away. He briskly walked through the hall, stopping at Artemis’ door. Closed, as usual. He knocked sharply.

“[Arty.]” No response.

“[Artemis.]” This time, he heard tiny footsteps as Artemis shuffled to the door. They opened the door and poked their head out, glaring at Helios. Their eyes were red and puffy, and their cheeks still stained with tears.

“(What now?)” They asked miserably. Helios stood up a bit straighter, his posture rigid as he stared at Artemis.

“[Quiet down. I’m trying to work.]” He turned to walk away, not wanting to stay any longer than he had to. He didn’t like acting this way towards Artemis, but it was his job to make sure emotions didn’t get the better of them. Failure would mean catastrophe.

Artemis, however, wasn’t having it this time.

“(Ugh, just shut up,)” They said indignantly, wandering father out of their room. “(Not everything is about your work. Whatever that is, anyway…)”

Helios paused. “[All I said was—]”

Artemis cut him off. “(I know what you said! I can’t just— quiet down!)” They said, their voice getting higher in pitch. Helios turned around, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. But before he could speak, Artemis started again. “(I am sick and tired of you always trying to boss me around. I couldn’t give less of a FUCK that you think I’m annoying! Just LEAVE ME ALONE!)” They yelled, stomping towards Helios until they were right in his face.

The rage in their eyes could almost kill a man, Helios thought. He frowned. “[…Alright, fine. But you can’t just let emotion rule you—]”

He was cut off again as Artemis shoved him, barely pushing him back by 2 steps. Their wings flared out as they glared daggers at Helios. “(Just because you haven’t felt a fucking thing in your life—)” They started hitting him, their blows surprisingly hard for their size— “(doesn’t—mean—I—CAN’T.)”

They shoved Helios again, and he staggered back this time, shutting his eyes for a moment. He had every right to hit them back, to yell at them, to be angry— and yet he couldn’t. He didn’t have the heartto hurt them.

He just stared dully at them, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t fight back, but he’d never show weakness. He was at a stalemate. Artemis, however, was fuming, and his apathy only served to make that worse.

“(Stop acting like a robot and DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT!)” They yelled, raising their fist again, but a voice stopped them.

”{Enough.}”

Atlas stood outside of her doorway, glaring at Helios and Artemis. “{I could’ve heard you from the other side of the world, for Harmonia’s sake.}” They sounded more tired than anything. Helios stepped forward, starting to explain, but Atlas held a hand up.

“{I don’t wanna hear it. I’m tired of your bullshit, both of you, just- go back to your rooms or something.}”

Artemis swiveled around, glaring at Atlas, but froze at the look on his face. She narrowed her eyes.

“{Go.}”

[koji-haru]

Preoccupations

[Merry Christmas @inubaki!! I hope you'll like your gift!! ❤️]

The design they had for the first human had always been beautiful; smooth, perfect skin blessed by the richness of the sun, warm, brown messy locks that looked temptingly soft to the touch, beautifully long and tall. But as soon as the first human took his first breath and saw the world for the first time through eyes of pure gold, more precious than any treasure in the universe, Lucifer knew then that his heart yearned for this perfect being. Everything about this human was simply perfect. The way his eyes were wide with pure innocence and wonder, ever so curious of the new life that surrounded him. How his smile was so sweet Lucifer could feel the rush within his being. And when he finally spoke? A voice more heavenly than all of Heaven’s choir combined. Yes, the first human was perfect as if made only for Lucifer, and Lucifer made for him. 

“Welcome to the garden of Eden, Adam the first man,” greeted Sera.

Adam. Even his name sounded like music to Lucifer’s ears, the perfect melody to his lyrics. And when their eyes met, rosy reds and silken gold, it was as if time had stopped and nothing existed in the universe besides the two of them. Then he could feel his heart beat, his blood in a frenzied rush all over his system, and slowly the sounds of the birds chattering in the background, the whispers amongst the other angels, the whistling of the tall grasses all returned just as time returned to its normal flow. Back to the way things were, except somehow, the world seemed to glow even more beautifully whenever his eyes laid upon the sun.

—-

Another day, another search for a particularly evasive angel. At least the garden was beautiful; the twinkling songs of the gentle streams, the way the clear waters glistened under the golden sun, the warm breeze that flew refreshingly through his robes. Without a doubt, the place truly was paradise. So despite having to do such a menial and unnecessary task that really had nothing to do with him, Michael didn’t mind it so much. If anything, it was a good break from his daily routines. He was starting to suspect that Lucifer was doing these ‘hide and seek’ from Heaven just so he could force Michael to ‘go out and smell the flowers’ whatever that meant. He always went out, every single day he had to do a full patrol of the garden to ensure its safety and sometimes, even venture out to the world beyond the garden. Really, he felt that there was no–

Oomph! Caught off guard, Michael fell unceremoniously into the stream as something launched itself towards him, its arms wrapped tightly around him in an excited embrace. Looking up, he was met with the purest of smiles, eyes shining brighter than Eden’s sun.

“Luci! You’re–!” 

The smile on Adam’s face dropped and was immediately replaced with furrowed brows, slightly down turned lips and a slight tilt of the head as he sat up and pulled away from Michael. 

“You’re not Luci,” said Adam, a tinge of disappointment evident in his voice. 

“No, I’m not,” Michael confirmed, sitting up slightly. “I’m Michael.”

“Are you an angel too?” asked Adam as he eyed the six blue white wings sprawled out and drenched in the stream. “Lucifer has six of those too, except his are red and white.”

A small smile slowly began to adorn Michael’s face at the adorable sight in front of him. “Yes, I’m an angel too. Actually, I’m Lucifer’s brother.”

“Brother? What’s that?” Adam cocked his head to the side, the word new and unfamiliar to him. “Can I have one too?”

“It’s when, hmm…” Michael took a pause to carefully think of his answer. Did siblings work the same with humans? “Lucifer and I are brothers because we came from the same star. Similar to how wolves are brothers, or sisters, because they come from the same mother. And I can’t just give you one, Heaven will have to decide on that.”

“Oh,” was Adam’s short response as mulled over the new information he had just learned, trying to make sense of it. 

Then a set of curious eyes travelled from Michael’s wings towards his face as Adam leaned closer down, a feather light finger tracing the little gold stars that travelled across Michael’s cheeks down to a cheek, where he poked at it as if something was amiss. 

“Um…” Michael stilled on the spot, unaccustomed to such intimate contact.

“Then how come you have these on your face instead of the red ones that Luci has?” asked Adam as he poked at Michael’s cheek repeatedly. “The animals here look similar to their brothers and sisters.”

“Well, first please get off of me.”

The short distance between them accompanied by the fact that Adam was sitting on top of him was sending odd, messy signals into Michael’s brain, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It was unnerving to him how he didn’t mind at all this new, unfamiliar sensation. And so, with nervous, hesitant hands, he pulled Adam’s off of his face with one hand and used the other to gently push the human away from him so he could sit up. But just as he was about to finally sit up, the weight on him suddenly disappeared as a swift flurry of red and white  rushed past him, scooping Adam up and away. 

A gasp followed by soft giggles of, “Luci!” told Michael that Adam was fine and who the sudden visitor was. To his right was his brother, both arms tightly wrapped around the human, all six wings flared out and spread wide, a possessive lour sent his way which would swiftly turn into a melting gaze as soon as he laid eyes on Adam. 

Odd. Lucifer had never acted that way towards Michael before, all so defensively territorial. It wasn’t like he was any danger to Adam at all. Though, he did feel a pang of…something when he saw Adam sweetly laughing, so happy to be carefully wrapped by his brother’s embrace. The weight and warmth that was on top of him moments ago now suddenly felt like some sort of lost treasure, the pleasant presence far too distant for his current liking. It was all rather disconcerting to him, all these sudden influx of feelings. But then again, Adam’s skin against his felt rather…nice. Michael looked down at his hand, the sensation from earlier a ghostly kiss that he craved more of.

—-

“It’s a little unfair, don’t you think?” grumbled Lucifer as he sat close to Adam, trying to not-so-subtly disrupt the human’s work. 

“I told you before, Luci, your hair’s too short,” Adam tried to reason as he pushed away Lucifer’s meddling hand from the braids he was doing on Michael’s hair. 

On the other end, Michael was in bliss. He couldn’t visit the garden as often as Lucifer did, but whenever he did, Adam always showered him with affection. And while he hated the fact that Lucifer got to spend more time with Adam overall, it seemed that being busy and playing the exhausted card got him special treatment sometimes. In a way, it was almost worth it. Almost. If only his brother would stop trying to disrupt the precious time he did get to have with his human.

It took a while, a lot of wing pulling, setting one another on fire, and some discussion leading to a begrudging compromise before the two brothers could finally accept that they couldn’t keep the other from their beloved human. And as much as both of them would rather have Adam all to themselves, at the very least it was only the two of them who frequented the garden. Any other angel who dared showed interest in the garden was either suddenly given a new role or duty by Michael, where sometimes they ‘take too long’ to complete their new duties; or simply scared away by Lucifer, never to be seen again. 

Lucifer managed to slip hand between Adam’s hands and grabbed onto a golden lock of Michael’s hair, harshly pulling on it. 

“Ow!” cried out Michael, one hand reaching out to stop Lucifer’s petty assault. “Let go!” “No!” Lucifer adamantly refused. They had spent most of the day with Michael being so snug to Adam, with Lucifer feeling like some sort of third party. He should be one snuggling so comfortably on Adam’s lap! Not Michael, but him! He was first after all!

“Lucifer, don’t be mean!” Adam tried to calm the angry angel, but soon resorted to gently cupping Lucifer’s face when words didn’t seem enough. His soft golden eyes looking directly at Lucifer’s own quickly calmed down the fire in the small angel’s eyes.  “Calm down, okay?”

A huff and pout. No matter how annoyed he got, Lucifer could never truly say no to his human. But that didn’t mean he was going to give up and end up empty handed. So, he did as Adam asked and let go of Michael's hair and instead took hold of Adam’s face, pulling the human into a soft, chaste kiss. A little compensation for having been disregarded. 

The lovely red that quickly blossomed on Adam’s cheeks was worth the icy glare that he felt piercing through his body from Michael. He was sure things were going to end up difficult for him once he returned home to Heaven, but that was definitely worth the price for Adam’s first kiss. 

—-

Adam sat quietly by the river, kicking little splashes of water everywhere as he tried hard to keep his spirits up. All he needed was patience. Surely Karael would arrive soon. Though, he had been waiting for a long time now. Adam and his new angel friend were supposed to meet by the river just before the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, and yet, the sun had already begun its journey down towards the horizon and still, Karael could not be found. The angel seemed so excited as well to spend time with him. Maybe Adam had gone to the wrong place again? 

“Adam?” 

A familiar voice called out to him, and when he turned, he was greeted with a familiar kind face, speckled with little gold stars. One of the few friends he had that actually remained.

“Hi Michael…” Adam waved a little sadly at the angel, his shoulders drooped down with increasing disappointment. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Michael as he sat close to Adam, one hand wrapped around the human’s shoulder, pulling him close. 

A disheartened sigh escaped Adam’s lips, “Karael hasn’t showed up yet. She promised to show me something today…”

This always happened. Whenever he made new friends, they would always suddenly leave him without another word, gone forever without a trace. They wouldn’t even say goodbye. Adam felt the tears prickle his eyes as he lost more and more hope in meeting his new friend. He didn’t understand why almost everyone seemed to just disappear on him. Had he done something wrong? Both Michael and Lucifer always reassured him that he never did anything wrong, but that only left him more confused. Did the other angels just not like him? 

“Maybe she’ll arrive soon enough,” Michael tried to reassure despite knowing full well that that wasn’t the case. No other angel was allowed to get their unworthy hands on their precious human. 

“I don’t know…” Adam quietly admitted. 

“Adaaaam!”

Suddenly a pair of arms covered in loose robes enveloped itself around Adam’s shoulders just as a pale face with rosy red cheeks popped up brightly to the human’s left side. 

“How’s my cute duckie doing?” Lucifer asked as he rubbed his cheek against Adam’s.

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael the residual golden stains on Lucifer’s robes. How sloppy. As adorable as Adam’s curious nature was, there was no need for him to see and question the odd splash of gold on Lucifer’s robes. And so, with a silent snap of his fingers, he burned away the damning evidence that clung onto his brother.

“Much better now,” answered Adam, a little smile beginning to form on his lips. 

“Much better now? Why? What happened?” 

“Karael hasn’t showed up yet,” Michael said with a shrug.

Lucifer slid down from Adam’s shoulder until he was lazily draped over the human’s lap. “Ah, who cares about her anyway? It’s her loss! You’re too good for her.”

“I agree,” Michael added with a nod as he snuggled even closer towards Adam. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

A blossom of red began to stain Adam’s cheeks at the words from both brothers as a fuzzy fluttering had once again started to go wild from his stomach as if pink butterflies were about to burst out of him. He wasn’t sure why, but it always happened whenever either Lucifer or Michael were close to him, like right now. It was an odd feeling, somewhat akin to nervousness, but better and much more pleasant. Either way, the day might not have begun so happily for Adam, but at the very least both Lucifer and Michael were always there to cheer him up and brighten his day. He felt so incredibly lucky to have the two as friends who cared deeply for him. 

The sky was a bright orange and the night was fast approaching as the sun began to sink in the horizon. In the past, Sera would’ve been a little worried about both Lucifer’s and Michael’s prolonged absence from Heaven. However, at this point, she already knew where the two could possibly be. The place where they spent most of their free time: the garden of Eden. 

As usual, Sera was correct in assumption as she stood over the trio sleeping on grass with Adam in the middle wrapped between the two brothers, encased in both of their wings. Sera did find it odd at the start, and honestly, she still did until now. But no matter how much she questioned and tried to reason with the brothers, both remained adamant about staying in the garden. And really, there was only so much she could do. A tired sigh escaped from her. She supposed Adam could use a friend or two, at least until they finished making the first woman. For now, she would leave the odd trio be. There was no harm to it after all. 

—--

It had been quite some time since Lucifer had smelled air that wasn’t stagnant and pungent, one that wasn’t devoid of life and joy. The cool breeze that ran fast through his silken locks had never felt more freeing as he climbed atop a fluffy cloud to sit beside his brother. It felt odd to him, to feel warmth. Warmth, not scorching, burning heat from beyond the deepest depths of the earth. It was a gentle warmth, a tender kiss from the sun so high up in the sky, so close to the place he used to call home. 

“I’m still in disbelief at what you did,” Michael said as he moved a little to make some space beside him, his eyes still glued attentively at the young, new world beneath them.

“Well, what else could I have done?” Lucifer retorted as he took the spot on the cloud offered to him, his eyes also beginning to scan the earth for a certain someone. “Besides, it’s not like you were entirely against it.”

Michael let out a weary sigh, unable to fully deny his brother’s implications. “Couldn’t you have done the same to Eve as I did with Lilith?”

“You do know Eve, right? That woman could not be persuaded to abandon her purpose,” Lucifer scoffed before his shoulders dropped low, weighed down by a sudden gloom, his ruby eyes in pained yearning as he found the person he was looking for.

Beneath the two brothers, far down below from the lofty clouds, was the beginnings of a small village. New humans that Lucifer had never seen before, though each one had an odd air of familiarity to them, whether it was the colour of their skin, the shades of their hair, or the shine in their eyes. Each one of these new, unfamiliar humans had a little piece of their beloved Adam embedded in them, one that Lucifer had been denied of by Heaven. And amongst the slowly growing crowd, was a tall man with skin marred by untold hardships, flesh grown stronger from endless necessary work, lines amongst his face that held stories of the past. But despite all these changes, those eyes remained ever the same: a gold more radiant than the sun, far more precious than any treasure that could ever be found in all of Heaven, Hell or Earth. 

“Why did Adam have to leave the garden too?” sighed Lucifer, his heart breaking at the sight beneath him: his beloved having a life of which he had no part in. Suddenly, a thought popped up in his head. Was it a little sinister? Something an angel should never think of? Perhaps. But Lucifer supposed that didn’t matter to him anymore. He was no longer an angel after all. 

“They’re mortal, right?”

“..yes?” Michael eyed Lucifer suspiciously, though he was willing to hear him out. “Why are you asking?”

“And they no longer have the protection they had in Eden, right?” Lucifer continued.

“Lucifer, I'm not killing Adam just so he could come to either of us quicker,” Michael said resolutely. 

“What? No! Not Adam!” Lucifer refuted absolutely, eyes widened in shock that his brother would even think of that. “I meant Eve! Eve!!”

A contemplative look washed over Michael’s features as he mulled over Lucifer’s suggestion. As an angel, he couldn’t directly intervene with human affairs nor could he communicate with them personally ever since the incident in the garden. Lucifer, however, no longer had obligations to Heaven, though he had been cursed to remain in Hell for the rest of his eternal life. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t loosen those chains a little once in a while. 

“Hm, Earth is quite a harsh place. Not very safe for fragile, mortal humans,” Michael mused loudly. “An unfortunate accident or a lethal animal attack is bound to happen soon.”

Michael gave Lucifer a calm look redolent of malignant mischief. “I heard some snakes are venomous…and deadly.”

“Really now?” Lucifer queried, his tone in playful high pitches. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind~.”

—-

“Is he dead yet?” Lucifer asked as he lazily laid on the cloud, his head barely on the edge. 

Sitting beside him, was as usual, Michael, his expression impassive and unreadable as he observed the now large and steadily growing human village.

“Unfortunately not.”

Lucifer let out a loud groan, stretching all of his limbs before letting them fall limply to his sides. “Eve died a long time ago, and it’s almost been a millennia since he had left the garden.”

He rolled over so that he was now laying on his stomach, his side flush against Michael, before suddenly sprouting up, voicing his anxiety aloud. 

“Are you sure he’s mortal? He didn’t eat the fruit, what if? Oh, no! What if–!” he gasped dramatically, one hand over his mouth, the other grasping onto Michael as he shook him urgently. “Michael! Go get your sword, we’re taking matters into our own hands!”

“Lucifer calm down,” Michael calmly reassured his brother as he tried to pry Lucifer’s claws off of his arm. Though, after realising that words were not enough to calm his brother down, Michael then opted to simply grab Lucifer’s face and forcefully tilted it down towards a particular spot in the village. 

“Look carefully,” he said, “Do you see Adam?”

With his face squished and held onto place, Lucifer had no choice but to focus his eyes towards the direction he had been turned to. He squinted and squinted, readjusting his eyesight to see more clearly until finally, it landed on a frail figure with ashen hair, sun-kissed skin marked full of a lifetime of adventures, and surrounded by a loving crowd. If it were anyone else, they might have not recognised him, but Lucifer could never ever forget the eyes of the one that stole his heart. No matter how much time had passed, those eyes remained forever the same. Sure, they looked far more hardened than the first time he had seen them, the golden glow in them a little more jaded, but it still belonged to the first man. Their precious Adam. 

Taking Lucifer’s silence as affirmation, Michael let go of his hold on Lucifer, letting him hang in a trance. “Don’t worry, Adam’s not immortal. He’s aging, and I’m sure he’ll be truly home soon. Just give it some time.”

“Ooor we can speed up the process,” Lucifer jokingly suggested, but also was half serious. Surely Adam wouldn’t mind it so much if they freed him from his feeble shell sooner than time would. 

“That would be nice, but no,” Michael shut down Lucifer’s suggestion, knowing fully well that his brother would act on it if he so much as gave a hint of approval. “We’ll play it safe this time. He’ll come to us eventually. He has to.”

—-

Lucifer sat stupefied in the embassy at the sight in front of him, an odd concoction of awe, incredulity and indignation slowly simmering within him. Sitting right across from him was none other than the love of his unending existence, his Adam in all of his golden beauty. It seemed that the afterlife had returned his youthful appearance, one that was strikingly similar to the look he had back in the garden. But that wasn’t what truly captured his full attention. He didn’t know it was possible, and yet the proof sat so casually in front of him. Somehow, his human had become even more beautiful, going beyond perfection. The way the soft golden glow of his halo illuminated his face like a loving caress, those pair of shimmering gold wings so large that they easily reached the ground, those loose white, lilac and gold robes that hid his form so teasingly; just the thought of being the privileged one to unravel it like a gift and see the perfection hidden beneath it sent pleasant shivers down Lucifer’s spine. It had been an eternity since he felt such sublimity, and he had only been close to Adam’s presence. He could only imagine…

Another important matter, however, caught his attention. His human was now an angel, and that meant that his angel now resided in Heaven. That was a problem. Another glaring problem was the fact that his brother, Michael, was very comfortably snuggling against his angel! 

“How long have you been in Heaven?!” Lucifer let out an anguished cry as he stood up, slamming both hands on the long table separating him from the two angels. 

“Hmm, when did I first arrive in Heaven again?” Adam wondered aloud, his chin rested atop of Michael’s soft golden locks. 

“I’d say, maybe, a few months ago?” Michael answered, a curled finger resting against his lips in thought. 

The sound of Adam’s angelic voice would’ve sent Lucifer in catatonia with how velvety sweet it felt in his ears if it weren’t for that fact that he had just found out that Adam had died and gone to Heaven months ago, and he had no knowledge of it the entire time. 

Blood red horns pointing to the sky sprouted from his skull, a raging fire in between them, his spiked tail swishing impatiently behind him as his anger slowly reached its boiling point. The sight of both his Adam and Michael being so close to each other in front of him not helping to calm him down. A void like shadow loomed before him, gradually increasing in both size and intensity the more he leaned forward, directing an aggrieved glare towards his brother. 

“All this time! You had Adam all to yourself?!” shouted Lucifer, the fire between his horns flaring up with every intonation. “How is that fair?!”

On the other hand, Michael seemed unaffected by Lucifer’s display of fiery rage, one hand reaching up to gently pat Adam’s head in reassurance. He knew his brother could be rather emotional, especially when it came to the first man. Other than that, he was harmless, at least to both him and Adam. 

“Adam had to first learn how to be an angel, and setting a meeting with you including Adam took far too long to be approved,” Michael explained.

“Clearly! You were hogging all of Adam’s time!” Lucifer argued, his legs bent and ready to spring towards his target. 

Michael wouldn’t admit it to Lucifer’s face lest he make the aggrieved Devil explode even more in anger, but he did enjoy having most of Adam’s time and attention during those first few months. There were some nuisances he had to get rid of by way of gentle reminders of their positions and capabilities, but it worked out in the end. For the most part, he managed to assign himself as Adam’s teacher and guide in Heaven, with most other angels having learned to keep their distance away. 

“We arranged a meeting as soon as possible,” Michael assured, though it was a little white lie. While Adam had expressed wishes to meet Lucifer as soon as possible, Michael secretly hoped to prolong their shared time together. “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

A faint golden hue dusted Adam’s cheeks once both sets of eyes, one a deep ocean blue, the other passionate ruby red, landed and focused on him with an intensity that sent his heart in panicked beats. He wasn’t sure what he did, but ever since he arrived in Heaven Michael had been attached to him almost everywhere he went. The archangel’s gaze was always an ocean that he found himself lost and drowning in with its intense waves of affection. Despite the months he had spent so closely with Michael, he still hadn’t gotten fully used to it, and now, Lucifer himself was also giving him a similar look. A passion burning wildly in those fiery reds, a hungry heat promising both sweetness and spice. In a way, it was almost predatory, and yet, Adam couldn’t find it within himself to run and escape, instead, he was drawn to it. 

“I– uh,” Adam stammered, those red eyes sending an odd tingly feeling all over his body. He moved his gaze randomly towards the smooth table, a feeble attempt to escape that fervent gaze. “We did try to meet you as soon as possible…”

Adam felt a slight nudge from Michael, encouraging him to go on. “...because I missed you too, Luci.”

Luci. Luci. That nickname hadn’t been uttered in almost a millennia, and just the sound of it being pronounced by none other than his sweet angel sent the flame burning within Lucifer into a raging blaze. The intensity of the flames between his horns burned even brighter, all of his six red-white wings spread out wide in ardent excitement. Then, without another word, Lucifer released the tension that had been building up inside of him all this time and sprung onto Adam, colliding against Michael. The collision hadn’t phased him, however, as he simply shoved his brother out of his way and wrapped his arms tightly around Adam, nestling his head in the space just between Adam’s chin and chest. Oh how he missed his beloved’s scent, that refreshing earthy scent. And that warmth, the coziest he had ever felt, one that told him he was home.

—-

“Michael, what’s the meaning of this?!” Sera demanded, slamming a scroll down onto Michael’s desk as she tried her best to the anger that was starting to spill out of her. 

Slapped onto Michael’s desk was a golden scroll, one used by Heaven for official contracts and deals. Once signed, it was unbreakable lest they face unwanted and unfavourable consequences. This particular binding deal had only been recently signed, the parties involved included Lucifer, Adam, and Michael himself. 

“It was the best solution to keep Hell under control,” Michael coolly answered as he took the scroll into both his hands, one finger swiftly skimming over the details of their deal. 

“It says here that ‘Hell will not attempt any uprising against Heaven and will keep its citizens in check so long as their King, Lucifer, shall have his wishes granted, that is, the presence of the first man, Adam, in Hell for at least half the time of a year,” Michael read the important details of the deal aloud as if to make Sera understand carefully. 

“I know what the scroll says, Michael,” Sera said sternly. “What I’m asking about is the nature of the deal.”

Michael took a quick glance back down on the scroll and then back to Sera, a quizzical look on his face. “I don’t see a problem?” 

An exasperated sigh, bordering on a loud groan, left Sera’s lips as she leaned back, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Lucifer threatening to come crashing on Heaven’s gates was enough stress and trouble for her to handle, and now Michael had gone and made a deal with the Devil without her explicit consent? Yes, she allowed meetings between him, Lucifer and Adam in hopes that those talks would help calm Lucifer down, knowing the deep relations both Adam and Michael had with him. What she hadn’t expected was…this. And worse yet, Michael seemed to find no fault in this? 

“You need to calm down, Sera,” Michael said, leaning back on his chair, the calm air that surrounded him only served to further irritate the high seraphim. “And look at this at a more logical angle.” 

“Calm down? How can I be calm when you’ve simply signed Adam away to the Devil?!” Sera asked in irate disbelief, her wings beginning to flare up in slowly bubbling anger.

“Just for half the year. Like I said, please look at this situation more logically,” Michael explained again. “This deal would ensure peace between Heaven and Hell.”

“But Adam–”

“Will not be harmed by Lucifer, I can assure you that,” Michael cut in. “Adam will be safe. Plus, he was actually very much in agreement with the deal.”

That seemed to have put a sudden halt to Sera’s enraged panic, all of her wings slowly losing their fervor as they began to lower, the furrow of her brows starting to soften as her expression slowly changed into a more composed albeit confused one. 

“What?”

“Adam was very much in favour of the deal. He’s good friends with Lucifer,” Michael repeated and clarified with a soft smile, blue eyes looking kind and stern at the same time, a silent declaration that he had made up his mind and that there was no changing it no matter what. 

At that point, Sera knew then that there was no arguing against Michael. It wasn’t an occurrence that happened a lot, most of the time Michael was rather accommodating to her opinions and thoughts on a variety of matters. However, when it came to matters regarding the first man, then Michael could suddenly become particularly stubborn and a little autocratic. It was something that had been concerning her since the garden, only now did she realise, when it was too late, that his fixation with Adam might run just as deeply as Lucifer’s. And that thought alone sent icy shivers down her spine. Lucifer on his own was trouble enough, having the two of them go rogue would simply spell trouble for Heaven, something Sera would rather avoid. She took another glance at the golden scroll laid flat on the desk, the feeling of defeat weighed heavy on her shoulders. As much as worry clung tightly onto her core, Sera couldn’t recall a time when Michael had brought harm to either Heaven or humanity. Simply put, she just had to trust the archangel to not cross the line just like his brother did.

Without much of a choice, Sera reluctantly accepted the deal that Michael had already made with Lucifer and Hell. There were so many questions swirling in her mind, like how could Adam be so willing to this deal? How was Lucifer good friends with Adam? Hadn’t they been separated for over 900 years? So many questions, and yet, she couldn’t ask any of them in favour of ‘keeping the peace’.

“Well?” Michael asked, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“Please, next time let me know of the details first before you go deciding things on your own,” Sera replied, her tone exhausted and drained beyond measure. 

“Noted.”

—-

Flashes of lights in varying colours danced in the dark red wallpaper of the castle. On the plush black couch, Lucifer sat comfortably on Adam’s lap, snuggling his face in the nook of his angel’s neck, enjoying the mesmerising scent that he had dearly missed. Adam, on the other hand, was focused on watching the movie playing on the wide screen in front of them, one hand occasionally dipping into the popcorn bucket on his side. In the comforting darkness of the living room, the world outside, the burning landscape, the screams of damned sinners hurling violence against one another, felt so separate as if both Adam and Lucifer were separate and away from the chaotic mess that was Hell. 

Then, suddenly, a bright blue light shimmered into the room as a familiar pale figure casually emerged from it, causing Adam to briefly shift his gaze from the tv screen towards their new guest. Lucifer, on the other hand, was unfazed by the portal suddenly opening up in his castle, already used to its almost constant appearance. 

“Oh! Hey Michael!” Adam lazily waved his butter covered hands over, gesturing the archangel to come over and sit by his side as he moved the popcorn bucket away. 

“Hi Adam, what are you watching?” asked Michael as he walked over to his angel’s side, opting to instead shove Lucifer a little to make some more space on Adam’s lap. 

A whiny groan sounded in the room as Lucifer fought against being shoved by Michael, his pointed teeth biting into the hand that was pushing him aside. Michael, however, was unfazed by this ‘act of violence’, a small smile painted on his face as he kept on shoving his brother and made a comfortable enough space for himself on his angel’s lap.

“Ugh, why do you always have to budge in?” Lucifer groaned aloud, clearly peeved about having to share his Adam. 

“Because sharing is caring, dear brother,” Michael answered back. 

“I’m the Devil, I don’t care,” retorted Lucifer, sticking out his tongue childishly as he tried to push Michael away. 

Suddenly, the two brothers were pushed close together as Adam wrapped both arms around them, pulling the both of them even closer to him. 

“Both of you hush,” Adam lightly scolded as he hugged them even tighter, both of their faces now flush against his chest. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

A victorious smirk formed on Adam’s lips at the silence that answered him, knowing fully well how such intimate actions affected both brothers no matter how much time had passed. He could practically feel the raging heat on both of their faces through his clothes. 

“If you both can promise to behave throughout the rest of the movie,” Adam started, “then I’ll be sure to reward you both handsomely~”

The two seated on his lap perked up noticeably at the notion of being rewarded, both suddenly becoming far more amiable and compliant to one another. Was Adam going to regret having dangled a shiny reward in front of the two? Perhaps. But he had offered rewards multiple times before, his back regretting it the morning after most of the time. Still, that hadn’t and wouldn’t ever stop him from offering some more. Good boys deserved to be rewarded after all.