#i recently went back to a place that brings me bad memories.....

[agent-yolk-writes]

A Nightmare in Devildom (Obey Me/Nightmare on Elm Street concept fic)

Basically what it says on the tin. A "what if MC was a survivor of freddy kreuger's torment before the events of OM" concept fic.

This is was of those weird ideas I came with this during the early covid lockdown period where my insomnia got really bad to the point where I was borderline delirious. I meant to get this out during October for spooky season vibes but after three Octobers came and went and Obey Me isn't getting any more updates, I figure I throw it into the pit before that happens. No beta we die like obey me as a franchise, I guess!

If this inspires you to write something similar, please let me know! If you want me to write more...please reconsider!

And, of course, happy holidays!

AO3 Mirror Link

Good lord, I look terrible. You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time I got some rest?

Other than looking more visibly tired, you look...older. It was the face of a nurse finally coming home after back-to-back double shifts. The bags under your eyes could only get so dark, but thankfully you knew a demon who had so much concealer and foundation lying around that he wouldn’t know if a few went missing. 

You knew you shouldn’t be continuing this habit, but you can’t help it. Despite living in a mansion with the most powerful demons in Literal Hell(!!) in the past few weeks your brain is still not convinced that you’re safe from Him . Would he still have the balls to terrorize you still? Does he even know where you are? Surely he’ll just know when you disappeared without a trace, but you can’t afford to find out for yourself. 

As much as you wanted to tell the brothers, you didn’t want to drag them into this mess. After all, this problem only started just weeks before you were brought here. It came without warning, and suddenly it turned into a bloodied hurricane. To think He was the one that killed your friends and classmates back in the human world…you regretted not being able to do more for them until you were in His sights.

This opportunity with the exchange program was either a saving grace or a divine intervention, and you’re not going to let that chance slip away from you. You have the whole year to work on magic and potions and anything else that could possibly drive Him away if not kill him for good, and you highly doubt he’s going to forget about you. Knowing how to do magic is one thing, but putting it to memory is another. This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so damn tired. You’re trying so hard to pay attention in class, but you just end up more focused on trying to keep your eyes open lest you allow Him to strike at your most vulnerable. 

However, there is one possible solution. The only problem is that you needed to form a pact with his other brothers before he could even consider helping you, that slothful bastard. Belphegor knows how tired you are and how you would do anything for a safe and peaceful rest. There was no point hiding it from him as you were with the others. Oh, how you envied the way he could sleep the day away in his little prison cell…you could just punch him if only you had the strength.

…

You really didn’t feel good about the multi-layered lie you found yourself webbed into to get the pacts in the first place. You recently got Beelzebub’s pact, putting you at the halfway mark. He looked so happy about your ‘plan’ to impress Lucifer enough to have him make up with Belphegor that it made your stomach churn in shame. Is it really okay for you to do this? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Out of all the brothers, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to Beel.

But what if Lucifer points his finger at Belphegor if you bring it up before you’re able to finish explaining? Would it destroy all the progress you made? Would you make things worse ? If they draw parallels that your deprivation is somehow related to the seventh-born’s sleep-related powers…only Lucifer would have an answer different from the other five. That’s why you have to keep up this facade for as long as you can. That’s why you need to stay awake. To find a way to protect yourself as well as the others. 

Your new friends at Purgatory Hall, bless their hearts, were none the wiser. Considering two of them were actual angels, you would’ve expected at least Luke to confront you with tears in his eyes about your health at least a month in. He makes a big talk about how you should never trust ‘those demons’ before having lunch with Beelzebub. Sometimes you think Solomon is giving you weird looks whenever you make eye contact with him. It’s probably the sleep-deprived paranoia, but you hope it’s nothing. You’ve been getting away with it for this long, so what? 

Tomorrow you have to stay over at Diavolo’s castle as part of an exchange party sleepaway camp or something. If you’re lucky, you can have a room for yourself. You don’t pack your go-to methods for staying awake until right before everyone heads out.

~

The steaming heat of the boiler room did not warm the chill in your bones one bit. 

You should know the inner workings of this hellscape by now. It was His favorite hunting ground, after all. However, something seems different this time. Everything felt…a bit shifted to the right, in a way. On top of that, there’s no sight or sound of Him anywhere. No taunting catchphrases, no spooky teleports he’s fond of doing, not even the shilling sound of his claw on metal when he’s close. This is probably his new trick, you think. Lulling you into a false sense of security before-

You turned around, involuntary flinching as you braced yourself to be hit. Only to process seconds later that nothing’s coming. In fact, there was no sign of life behind you in the first place. Damn it, he really was playing with you at this point. As soon as you let out a sigh of relief, you heard someone screaming from the other side of the room. You couldn’t tell who they were, but that’s not going to stop you. You ran towards the sound before you let the dread wash over you. 

“I’m coming!” You yelled at them. “Wake up! He can’t hurt you if you’re awake!” You were so focused on tilting your head up to project your voice to the other person that you didn’t realize you hit a dead end until you ran into a wall of pipes. “Oh, god damn it!” You cursed, pivoting on your foot to turn around and run even faster. 

What happened next happened too fast. You didn’t know where you were going. Everything is starting to blur together. A pipe managed to burst the same second you turned your head to follow the noise, immediately blinding your vision with steam and a “Shit!” jumping out of your mouth. The suddenness of it all made you lose your momentum and you feel yourself stumbling forward. You didn’t have time to brace yourself for the sharp object that’s going right through your- 

You wake with an audible gasp, hands going up to your throat. The sound of your racing heart and your uneven breathing replace the sounds of pipes and steam. You looked around in the darkness and could barely see two bodies sleeping in their respective beds. Ah, that’s right. This is the first night of Diavolo’s retreat, and you find yourself paired to a room with Asmodeus and Simeon. In an attempt to pretend you’re asleep ended up having you fall asleep for real. You couldn’t help but think how pathetic you were for letting your guard down for one second and falling into His hands again after so long all because you were waiting for someone to finish their 20-step overnight skin routine.

With a shuddered sigh, you carefully slipped out of your bed and into the hallway in hopes you could clear your thoughts without disturbing your roommates. 

Thanks to the occasional jittering of a Little D doing their nightly duties, the halls of a demon lord’s castle don’t feel as haunted as you would think. The lights were dimmed but not out completely, which gave way for the moon to shine in as its own source of light. Had you been carrying a candle in a brass holder you would’ve thought you stumbled into one of those old gothic novels. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you made sure you remembered which room you were assigned to just in case. 

At some point during the night, you ended up in one of the lounge rooms, curled up on a couch facing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked up at all the stars. It has always been a comfort for you. You even began reading about them in an attempt to stay awake back in the human world. You thought you could recognize some of the constellations, but there are always a few stars here and there that turn it into an unrecognizable shape. At least you have new material to read about when you’re back in your room at the House of Lamentation. 

The soft calling of your name from the door broke your serene silence followed by a, “Is that you?”

A small gasp managed to escape your throat before you were able to put your hands over your mouth. You curled into yourself at first so whoever it was can’t see your head poking out from the back. After a few seconds, it finally clicked as to who it was.

Sheepishly, you stick your head out. “Hi, Barbatos.” You said, voice croaking in unexpected use. Even though it was dark and his figure obscured, you could make out that he was holding some kind of tray. “Am I not supposed to be here? I’m sorry. I’ll go back and…”

“It’s fine.” He assured you. “I heard someone walking around, so I’ve taken the liberty to brew some chamomile tea for them should they feel restless. Would you like some?”

“...”

Tea does sound nice, but the fact that it was chamomile made you hesitate. At the same time, Barbatos just made it, so it would be rude to let it go to waste.

“...That would be nice. Thank you.”

He made his way over to the other side of the couch. Part of you wanted to sit up and be proper when drinking, but even thinking about adjusting your posture makes you tired. Still, you make an effort to reach over to take the tea cup from the butler’s hands. Barbatos took this opportunity to start talking. 

“This is your first time spending the night at a castle, I presume?” You made an affirmative noise as you sipped, not wanting to point out that it’s not just any castle you’re sleeping at. “I reckon slipping in a new bed right as you got settled in would put anyone’s nerves on edge.”

You put your cup down as you replied, “I guess you can say that.” 

He looks at you quizzically. “Is something amiss? I’ll inform the Young Master right away.”

“It’s…It’s fine, Barbatos. Thanks for worrying.” You took another sip before letting out a sigh. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping, you can say. I get…these really bad nightmares that make me stay up for days on end. They were so terrifying and real…I kept wondering if I was losing my mind. I’ve tried every remedy in the book to stop them but…” You stopped to let a yawn out. “Sorry…As I was saying, I tried everything the doctors thought could help me. They even brought in a priest thinking it was ‘dream demons’ or something.” You paused, replaying the last thing you said. “Are dream demons even a thing here?”

“They are a form of lesser demons, yes.” The butler answered. “They’re relatively harmless as individual beings, but can pose a threat in large numbers or if they get close to a human.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” You told him bitterly. 

“If it brings you any comfort, just know that they’re not powerful enough to be able to enter the human world on their own. Only certain powerful demons have the authority to travel to that realm directly. Such as the Young Master and Lucifer, for example.”

You couldn’t help but huff out air through your nose in relief. Suck on that, Pastor John. 

“...So yeah. Just before I was summoned here, they put me on a clinical trial for a medication that…reduces? Suppress? It, like, stops giving me dreams entirely, and they work. Forgot the name though. And I coincidentally ran out just before I was transferred here so…yeah.” Your eyes looked over to the butler. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I guess. I keep getting roped into whatever the brothers get themselves into that I never really had time to check on myself.”

Barbatos didn’t respond immediately. You were too busy concentrating on balancing the tea on your stomach to spare a glance over to your nighttime companion to see what kind of face he was making. Would he make one? Shouldn’t he have known of this malady when your file was being processed? Maybe, because of their biology, demons don’t worry about these kinds of conditions. You mulled around internally in a tired haze before realizing that your eyes were slowly creeping shut. With a soft sigh, you moved the plate to the nearest table and stood up slowly.

“Anyways, thanks for the tea. Compliments to the chef.” You couldn’t help but let out a big stretch followed by an even bigger yawn. “I’ll head back to bed now. No guarantee I’ll sleep though.” You let out a huff that was supposed to be your attempt at a dry laugh. “You should get some rest too. Big day ahead, y’know? See you in the morning.” And with that, you exited the room and into the dim hallway.

The small smile Barbatos had dropped as soon as your back was turned to him. It was no secret that your time as a transfer student was being hindered by your lack of sleep. Even your recent medical file was perplexing in figuring out the cause of this disorder. It’s not genetic nor was it caused by a major traumatic event. Perhaps it’s something else? You did mention dream demons, after all, albeit it was more of a speculative idea that was brought up by your doctors in order to get a man of the cloth involved. It definitely couldn’t be Belphegor’s meddling, he thinks. He wouldn’t know about the human’s arrival.

It looks like he’ll have to do some digging after this exchange party concludes. He might need to start gathering evidence now while the human is still here. Diavolo will need to get involved, there’s no doubt about that. He would do anything to ensure the health and safety of the exchange students, after all. 

~

When everyone converged for a tour around the castle, some had noted that you looked less sluggish than usual. You simply waved them off, making up an excuse about the mattress not being up to human standards. Hopefully, you didn’t offend the demon prince when you said that. 

Still, you can’t deny that you feel a little well-rested. You did remember trying a method where you close your eyes for 15 minutes, wake up for another 15, close your eyes again, rinse and repeat. You usually had an alarm for this technique, but you didn’t want to disturb Simeon or Asmodeus as much as you already did slipping in and out of bed. You didn’t think you were able to keep track, but you did somehow, give or take a few minutes. Now you can actually pay attention to that cute little demon acting as the tour guide, explaining the intricate history of all the subjects painted on these beautifully crafted portraits. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Diavolo puffing his chest in pride when the Little D started talking about his father, the current Demon King. 

(But when it was mentioned that he's been sleeping at the bottom of Devildom for millennia you couldn't help but feel jealous. The most powerful being of all the realms is casually sleeping the decades away while you don’t even get the privilege of an hour of uninterrupted rest.)

You looked at the other paintings decorating the hall. Some plaques are written in what you can only presume is some kind of archaic language that only demons would know. If you could understand at least a part of it, then maybe you can get a deeper understanding of these pictures. 

A gentle call of your name and a not-so-gentle clap on your back broke your weak concentration. You tore your eyes away to meet Diavolo’s gentle gaze. “I see that her beauty managed to draw you in?” 

You blinked, trying to process what he said. “I-I’m sorry, whose beauty? I was…too focused on figuring out what the plaque said.” You managed to blurt out, causing the prince to chuckle.

“Oh, that? It simply reads ‘The Queen of Devildom’. In other words, that’s my mother.” His gaze turned to the painting, but you stayed fixated on him. He continued by adding, “This painting and some vague memories are all I have of her. She passed away several centuries ago when I was still an infant. My father would always talk about how…” And he continued to drone on from there. It wasn’t his fault, and you were genuinely trying to cling on to every word he’s saying because it’s important to him and you wanted to leave a good impression. On the other hand, the bleariness in your eyes started to cloud your vision again as a result of your lack of sleep. So you avert your gaze back to the painting unintentionally so you can wipe it away, biting your tongue to restrain the yawn that comes with it. Part of you hopes that Diavolo thinks that you’re speechless and moved to tears.

That thought quickly vanished when you opened your eyes to the painting. 

There was a choking noise, and you almost didn’t realize it came from you. It felt like the world around you completely disappeared, and only you and Him were the only inhabitants. 

Devildom seemed to freeze over the moment you made direct eye contact with the painted eyes of your tormentor. His scarred face did nothing to hide that cocky smirk he loves to wear. He’s holding up his bloodied claw to you in a way that couldn’t be anything else but a taunting gesture, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. His other hand wrapped around the back of a bloodied woman. By the way, the painting is framed, you assumed she was supposed to be sitting. Unfortunately, you know that’s not the case here. Her head dipped back, obscuring her face from you. You assumed she was originally wearing either a white or a similar light-colored dress, but that didn’t matter as it was dyed by the blood seeping out of that four-lined wound in her chest that you knew all too well. Just the sight alone made you reach for your hip where an old wound dimly throbs at the clothed contact. 

You didn’t dare move your gaze. You needed to keep an eye on him. 

“Hey…!”

You knew it. This opportunity to fly off his radar and find a way to kill him for good while he’s not looking was too good to be true.

“...!”

How did he even get here? Did he follow you down when you got summoned? What will he-

“...!!”

Time seemed to resume the second someone grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around. You wanted-no, needed to keep an eye on him. Sadly, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. Instead, you were forced to look at Diavolo's worried eyes. You didn’t even let him get a word in before you began panicking. 

“What have you done?!” You yelled. You pointed to the painting behind you. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us from…who?”

“Him!” You pointed to the portrait.

Only the painted eyes of a woman stare back at you.

It was too late for you now. The moment you allow yourself even to think you’re away from his control, you end right back into his hands. 

Nowhere is safe, not even in hell.

A maniacal laugh fills your ears as everyone crowds around your panicked state.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

We Must Know, How Did it End?

“It was tricky, really. Writing songs that come from a place of pain isn’t usually my thing,” Sirius says, plastering a polite smile onto his face. “It’s difficult to describe a feeling that’s so… overwhelming.” 

Peter smiles back, and Sirius can see the empathy etched across his face. 

“Okay, I think we have time for some audience questions,” Pete says, turning to the audience. Sirius follows his gaze to a crew member handing a mic over to a young woman. 

“Hi, uh, hi. I was just wondering if your album is based on your recent breakup? With Remus?” 

His name alone makes the blood freeze in Sirius’ veins. The fan isn’t wrong, his album is essentially all about Remus. It doesn’t stop his heart from stuttering at the mention of Remus. It brings memories that he’s been trying to write out of his system back to the front of his mind. They bring a lump into his throat, and he has to blink harshly to fight back any semblance of a visceral reaction. 

Thankfully, Peter steps in. 

“You know what? Let’s move on. Anyone else?” 

In spite of a few grumblings, the microphone travels further, landing with another fan. 

“Hey. I was just wondering if you ever think that Remus dated you for the fame? I mean, his follower count has doubled since you two-” 

“No, I don’t think that,” Sirius cuts in sharply. Apparently, his need to defend Remus is stronger than his hurt at their breakup. Peter is opening his mouth to speak, probably to move on again, but Sirius isn’t ready to move on. “Of course I don’t think that. Remus’ talent speaks for itself. He doesn’t need me to be his way to break out in the dance world. We might not be together anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is still one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Honestly, his kindness is indescribable. Everything I said while we were together was true. That relationship was the realest thing I’ve ever had, okay? Us breaking up doesn’t diminish that.” 

The whole studio has lapsed into silence, and Sirius is really regretting the way he went about that now. Even Peter’s watching him in shock. Eventually, he seems to remember his own job, clearing his throat and breaking out into a smile. 

“Okay! It’s about time for us to move on…” 

Sirius is pretty sure that he’s been in a trance for the past hour. He doesn’t even remember the trip back to his house. All he knows is that he’s been scrolling through his tagged posts as his manager, Benjy, shouts at him over the phone. 

“This is, without a doubt, the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done!” 

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Sirius grumbles under his breath. Unfortunately, Benjy has the ears of a fucking hawk. 

“If you weren’t a public figure, and I wasn’t your fucking PR Manager, I would think it was sweet, Sirius! However, calling your relationship with Remus the realest thing you’ve ever had?! That gives tabloids every opportunity under the sun to call you obsessive!”

“Yeah, well, it needed to be said,” Sirius says decisively. He’s not wrong. In what world could anyone ever see Remus as anything less than kind? Yeah, they haven’t seen the way Remus would hold Sirius through his panic attacks, say the dumbest things just to watch him smile, or the dance. The one Remus dedicated to him. The one Sirius really should delete from his camera roll. 

“God, Sirius, you’re so lucky that I actually like you.” Benjy interrupts his train of thought, thankfully, letting out a groan as Sirius refreshes Instagram for the fifteenth time. “However, now you need to lay low until people forget that this happened.” 

“What? That I defended him? Just because he’s my ex doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to say anything nice about him!” 

“Yes it does. You can’t say anything too bad, or anything too nice. You have to be neutral. Peter was about to gloss past the question, anyway!” Sirius rolls his eyes, grateful that Benjy can’t see him as he goes scrolling again. He’s being called obsessive in countless different ways by news outlets, people who hate him, and people who have decided that his and Remus’ breakup means that it’s time to take sides. As he looks through them, he’s barely even pausing. 

Until he reaches a post with Remus’ face at the front of it. 

As much as he knows that he shouldn’t, he wants to watch it. He’s spent a lot of time watching the videos he promised James that he’d deleted and crying, but those were videos Sirius had filmed himself. They were personal. He hasn’t interacted with anything that Remus has posted publicly. He doesn’t actually want to be a stalker. 

This feels… different. Mostly because this one has his name on it. 

‘REMUS LUPIN BREAKS SILENCE ABOUT EX BOYFRIEND SIRIUS BLACK:’ 

“Yeah, okay, Benjy, I’ll stay silent,” Sirius says quickly, zoning out. 

“Oh, really? Thanks. That was easy-” 

“Okay, bye.” He hangs up before Benjy can say anything else, immediately playing the video. 

It’s from one of Remus’ livestreams. His face is flushed a slight red, like it usually is after rehearsal, sitting on the floor in his studio. Sirius hates how endearing he finds it. He’s just talking, comments rolling in and the radio playing, when Sirius catches the message. It’s just another one calling him a stalker, but it stops Remus in his tracks. 

“Right, you all need to leave Sirius alone,” Remus says decisively. The way his name sits in Sirius’ mouth brings a lump into his throat all over again. He really needs to stop crying over Remus, it’s getting a little sad. Maybe he is obsessive. “He isn’t stalking me. I actually haven’t spoken to him at all. Listen, the- the breakup was amicable, okay? We don’t hate each other, and we really don’t need people taking sides. All he did was defend me, which he didn’t have to do. It was nice of him, yeah, but it doesn’t make him obsessive. He’s just being a good person, he can’t help that.” Sirius smiles to himself, face warming at the compliment. 

Okay, he is obsessed. 

Still, it’s so unbelievably Remus to be so willing to defend him. To immediately assume the best about Sirius. 

Just when Sirius expects the clip to end, a different song starts playing. He recognises it straight away. It’s one from his new album. 

‘ I told the moon about you… ’ 

Remus’ eyes widen at the words. At Sirius ’ words. He never has been any good at hiding the first thought that flits across his face. 

“Sorry, I’m, er… I’ve got to go. Thanks for- for watching, yeah,” Remus says hurriedly. 

That’s when the clip ends. 

For what feels like the thousandth time, Sirius wants to be in the same room as Remus, to have the privilege of finding out exactly what is going on in his head. He wants to press his thumb against the furrow in Remus’ brow and watch his face relax. Christ, he just wants to touch him, really. His forehead, his hand, his shoulders, his waist, anywhere . With a groan, he drops his head into his hands. He’s actually pathetic. James is the only one who’s allowed to hear about this, and Sirius is pretty sure he needs a stern talking to from him right about now. 

There’s a knock at his front door, which Sirius assumes is James. It’s like the man can read his mind. The knocking is a little… frantic, but James is bouncy, it’s not exactly out of the ordinary. 

He walks slowly over to the door, reaching out and pulling it open. 

The moment he catches a glimpse of the familiar amber eyes, every muscle in Sirius’ body freezes. 

Remus. 

He hasn’t seen him in three months. Not since he left Sirius’ house, got on a plane, and didn’t come back. Sirius has spent a countless number of minutes trying to recall every single detail about Remus, looking at photos of the two of them, wishing that he had spent more time etching every line, every freckle, into his brain. He thought he had, really, but he was right in his interview. Remus is indescribable. 

For a moment, they just look at each other, Remus’ mouth slightly ajar as though he hadn’t expected Sirius to open the door. He almost seems like he doesn’t know how he got there. 

Well, until Sirius speaks. 

“M- Remus? What- what are you…?” He trails off, watching the way Remus’ features set to something much more sure. 

“Sirius, I love you,” he says suddenly. They’re words Sirius never expected to hear coming from Remus again. “I’m still in love with you, and I’m tired of pretending that I haven’t regretted every single step that I’ve taken since I left here. I- God, Sirius, I think we made a mistake. I- I know what we said, what we agreed on. It was too difficult with our schedules, we were both being too distant, fighting over little things,” he lists everything like it’s pointless, as Sirius tries to get his brain to fucking wake up and work. “And I get it, Sirius. I really do get it, I understand, but I’d take thousands of fights over- over dishes, or hogging blankets, instead of having to do these months all over again. This is going to sound really sad, and really bloody pathetic, but I’ve watched the videos of you writing songs in my flat more time than I can fucking count since we broke up! You told the moon about me? I know that line. I’d know it anywhere. It’s the one right before I turned the camera off and kissed you. It just made me- I don’t know, I didn’t think hearing it like that would hurt so much.” He seems to be hit with a completely different emotion, some sense of regret, and it’s probably Sirius’ fault, since he doesn’t seem to be able to get his voice to work. He can sing night after night, go on countless talk shows, but apparently this is what it takes to render Sirius speechless. “I know I’m probably overstepping a boundary, and this is really fucking stupid of me, but I- I want to try again.” 

Yeah, the words really aren’t going to come out. He’s going to have to find some other way to tell Remus exactly how he feels. 

“If I didn’t say something I just know that I’d regret it for the rest of my life. So tell me to leave and I will. I’ll turn around and- and I’ll move country. You’ll never have to see me again-” 

He can’t say anything else, because Sirius is kissing him. 

He isn’t even sure when he made the decision to do it. It’s almost like a reflex, the first thing to come naturally to him. 

There’s not a second of regret that comes with it, though. 

Before he can even figure out where he got the idea to do that, Remus’ arms are around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer and holding him secure, warm, safe . His lips are soft, so familiar that Sirius wants to cry. 

Actually, he is crying. 

Tears start rolling down his face as he pulls away to look at Remus. Thankfully, Remus is crying himself, and somehow also grinning like an idiot, which Sirius can genuinely say is the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege to behold. 

“Oh, my god, I love you, Remus. Moony, I love you so much,” he says quickly, hands reaching to cup Remus’ face. 

“So- you- do you want-?” 

“To start again? Pick up from where we left off? Anything, darling. Anything. I’ll take whatever you can give me, if it means I don’t have to try to move on. You’re not someone I can get over. I’ve tried, and I’m convinced that it’s fucking impossible,” Sirius says, making Remus laugh breathlessly and drag him back into a kiss. Not that Sirius is complaining. He would let Remus drag him anywhere. Remus is his everything. His world. 

Oh, my darling, how could I ever have let you go?

[partycatty]

thinking about young mk11 johnny being a bad boyfriend then you meet him again years later when he’s mature and he REGRETS IT SO BAD

i have so many ideas but i can’t get them out recently so ur account gives me life lol <3

OUGH it aches in the bones

older!johnny cage > as the day you left

notes: oooghuig "in another life" trope hurts so BAD.

[ masterlist ]

• a military job wasn't in your grand plan, but a position opened for equipment maintenance it was hard to turn down the potentially heavy paycheck.

• you were buried in your paperwork, taking quick strides to your office to make sense of your diagnostics and order the proper parts for one of the on-field machines when you slam into what feels like a brick wall. just as the force of the blow sends you backward, a hand grabs your arm and suspends you mid-fall.

• you don't even have time to properly react to the scene, only opening your harshly clenched eyes to meet your savior.

• "sorry, i wasn't looking where i—" your apology was cut off when you properly processed just who was in front of you. even with the tattoo peeking through his shirt, you knew that face from anywhere. "johnny?"

• you expected johnny to not even remember you, maybe take a second to realize you weren't just a fan. this expectation is torn from you when he replies with your name, loud and clear. his eyes are wide. gently, he lets go of you to allow you to regain your footing, pulling away as if you were a glass doll bound to shatter.

• he looked the same as when you walked out, perhaps a little more weathered but glowing with charm and personality just as he did twenty odd years ago. thankfully, you thought, he never lost that puppy-like shine in his eyes.

• the moment was lost to him the second he locked eyes. just like that, a torrent of memories flooded back to him. you two were young, too young to be serious in his eyes. johnny was in his acting prime and he couldn't help but flaunt it. all those smiles and sparkly outfits for the cameras but as soon as you were behind closed doors you were nothing more but exhausted.

• "i can't keep living like my life is under a microscope," you huffed, shrugging off the luxury shawl johnny went through hell to make sure you'd have for the red carpet. "would it kill you to just settle down, slow down? i want kids, johnny! i want to go to the store without paparazzi up my ass, i don't need stalkers on our property, i don't need the gold and glamor all the damn time!"

• "well, that's on you for choosing a megastar!" johnny shouted back, undoing his tie in one harsh tug. "all you've ever done is complain when you are literally living large! mansions, super cars, money! and you're complaining."

• you spin around, a horrified expression on your face as you unpacked his wording. "i didn't choose a megastar," your voice drops, so angry you couldn't bring yourself to shout. "i chose john carlton. where the hell is he now, because all i see is a narcissistic child that refuses to grow up."

• you slide your engagement ring off and you slam it into the ground. johnny's eyes widen as he immediately drops to his knees, trying desperately to grasp at the ring as it rolls and spirals out of grasp. he curses to himself, then at you.

• "look at yourself," you grit your teeth. "you care more about a rock than your fiancée. we're done, johnny. you can go tell the media that, too, since that's all you care about."

• johnny blinks once, then twice. he swallows thickly.

• "i'm sorry," is all he can mutter out. god, how he wishes he could say more, but time felt nonexistent when looking at your face. you, however, didn't quite understand his meaning and brushed yourself off.

• "no, it's fine, really," you try to shove past him, anything to break this eye contact that feels as if it's pulling you apart piece by piece. as you think you're out of the weeds, his hand finds its place on your arm once more.

• "please look at me," he pleads, voice barely above a mumble. "i-i haven't seen you in..."

• "—twenty six years," you blink up at him, straining yourself so hard to not break down. "forget it."

• "i'm sorry," he emphasizes the phrase again. "i... i was an asshole, an arrogant, self-centered—"

• "johnny." you cut him off, face stern but voice soft. "it was so many years ago."

• "i know, i know, but — fuck — you've... you've been on my mind this entire time. you never left. god, when you left it felt like my entire... everything fell apart."

• you want to interject, stop him from this spiral, but you can tell he had it bottled up for so long, you'd be cruel to deny him of it now. that, and you had an unfortunate tendency to hear people out and forgive those who don't need your forgiveness.

• "when you walked out i realized just how good i could've had it. you were the only sane person in my world, you tried so hard to keep me in track but i was so afraid of being nothing that i... chose my priorities wrong. you know, i've kept your contact information, even... just in case."

• "i changed my number years ago, johnny. to stop the media from bugging me for a comment."

• "just another thing i fucked up," he runs a hand through his hair. "sorry, i don't mean to be all self destructive." he pauses, and eyes you down. you yourself aged well too, fine lines and trickles of grey hair peeking through your uniform hat. johnny chuckles dryly as his eyes focus on the little details. "you look just as beautiful as the day you left me."

• "don't do this," you quietly plead, eyes now feeling wet and face feeling hot. "not now. not after all this time."

• "i..." he swallows again, now averting his eye contact. the pause is long, and you almost considered walking away before he speaks up again. "i got married, by the way, though i'm sure you saw... in the news."

• "i haven't." johnny shoots a dubious look at you, then realizes you probably avoided his name like the plague in news articles.

• "my wife runs the army. my daughter is commander."

• "daughter?" now it was your turn to frown.

• "cass... cassandra?" johnny explains, though you sense a hint of shame in his tone. "cassie."

• "didn't strike you for a family man." the irony stings when it slips past your lips.

• "i didn't either," he wipes his face. "but i realized... far too late... that what i wanted more than a legacy for myself was a legacy for my family. i wanted my efforts to mean something. i wanted to better the world with more than just shitty movies."

• just as your turn rose to frown, now you couldn't help but let out a chuckle yourself. "your movies weren't shitty," you reply, smiling weakly. "i liked them."

• "no you didn't," his grin is teasing, and you notice just how deep his smile lines were. "no need to lie."

• "honest to god," you hold a hand up, swearing. "they were a nice escape from reality."

• his lips turn into a fine line. maybe your choice of wording was more painful than intended. his fists clench and unclench and you watch his mouth fight to get more words out.

• "i wish..." the always confident actor couldn't bring himself to look at you. "i wish i had grown up sooner, you know." johnny could be digging a dangerous hole, but he didn't care in the moment. he felt young again, nostalgic. "we could have had a life like this together, like you want... wanted."

• "you have that now," you get defensive, trying to put a barrier between his words and your heart. "a wife, a kid, a good job. you got what you wanted."

• "but it's not with you."

• whether it was dread or excitement, your heart flutters. was it really true that after all this time, he still wanted you, missed you like you missed his mature self? your thoughts of what could've been claw their way into your mind, and you feel hazy. your eyes wander around his form again, taking in his impressive physique, kind eyes, mature outfit... stopping at the ring finger. your breath feels sucked from your lungs when you pull yourself back to reality.

• "maybe in another life," you propose, a weak shrug tugging at your shoulders. "but i hope you know i don't... i don't regret what we had. our story, though, ended twenty six years ago, johnny. you're in a new chapter, enjoy it, okay?"

• the rejection at his desperation feels like a gunshot to the chest, like he could just die then and there. yeah, he had roots here, but if you had just asked him to run away with you, lord knows he'd consider it. but you wouldn't ask him to do such a thing, when he's finally got his shit figured out.

• another coworker enters the long hallway, entranced in their task that tears both of your attentions away from the heavy conversation. you know even still that his reputation is important, on screen and now off, too. so, you abandon the conversation as it stands, not giving johnny a chance to agree to your request and spin on your heel, returning to your own assignment and leaving him to his own. your head is down as you hug the papers, wishing to forget that you work with your ex-soulmate. it's an impossible task, really, when you catch his lingering cologne and scent on your body from his hold. that scent didn't change, either.

• johnny feels frozen in place, afraid to move and lose the moment where it stands. he watches you until you turn the corner, and listens for your footsteps until there isn't a trace of them anymore. his heart feels... heavy.

[radiance1]

Inspired by the idea of that one post I did where Tucker downloaded DDLC, fell in love with Monika and then gave her a body. Which is set in the DC universe because why naught lmao.

"I'll bring you back to me..." Monika whispered to the figure on the other side of the glass her hand was pressed against. A soft smile on her face as she looked upon the peacefully 'sleeping' figure that floated inside of the tank.

Tucker, 'asleep' in a tank flowing with ectoplasm that kept his body perfectly preserved and even helped it 'heal' somewhat when Monika wasn't taking him out to run a proper check on his injuries. Eyes softly closed and curled into a ball.

He looked at peace.

Recent magical examinations showed that due to his... circumstances, he was much more akin to something like Danny or Vlad's existence than he was human. Yet, unfortunately, he wasn't quite what they were either.

Maybe if he was, she wouldn't need to do what she has.

Monika sighed and took her hand back, swiftly turning around and walking away. She flicked her hand as she did so, summoning various screens that held various reports over select strands of both magical and scientific experiments.

'Tucker would have loved to see this.' The thought brought a small smile to her lips that swiftly turned to a frown when she remembered the reason behind these experiments. 'No matter,' She thought. 'I'll show him when I bring him back.'

She sought out a specific screen, narrowing her eyes when she realized there was a complication one of her more hopeful tests.

She would have to go resolve it personally, it seemed.

The thought of leaving her beloved alone for even a moment stifling but! If all went well then, he would reawaken! Any amount of discomfort on her end was nothing in the face of a such a joyous occasion.

If all went well, everything would be back to how they should be!

===

She should have known better than to think things were going to go well for her.

The complication that required her personal attention was solved, though it took some time, and bore fruit that, while not able to help tremendously, was enough to speed up her progress by a moderate amount.

One good thing made way for another bad thing.

Perhaps being around the Fenton family caused their luck to rub off on her.

When she returned her beloved's body was no longer where it was. Which should have been impossible, no one should have been able to get in or out without her explicate permission. And indeed, whatever happened didn't have her permission.

They forced their way inside.

Her systems were a mess. Some shut down, some dealing with viruses and some even fading from her rights completely. Which were then promptly disposed of.

Her beloved was stolen, right beneath her nose. Plucked out of the safety she surrounded him with when it came time for him to reawaken.

Monika was not angry.

No. No.

What was flowing throughout her artificial body was something much, much more potent than rage. Fueled by despair and hope that crashed down around her.

Monika was not angry.

What she was feeling, if she were to put it more accurately, would be the sin that humans had come to known as Wrath.

War bless her.

Fear aid her.

Time preserve her.

She had a thief to catch.

===

In a city blessed with endless sun and protection of a god amongst men. A body opened its eyes.

'Monika.' Was its first thought.

'It stinks.' Was its second.

It stood up on awkward legs, bringing its hands to its head and turning the proper way with a loud and cringeworthy crack. It placed a hand to its chest next, feeling the slow beating of a heart that was easily viewable from the patch of see-through muscle that wasn't covered by any skin.

It looked at itself. It's very naked self and narrowed its eyes when it finally found a memory.

'Clothes.' Was its-no, his third thought.

And so, it started moving.

===

Lex Luthor was having a hard time not throwing something at one of the dolts who had lost a precious specimen he spent countless amounts of resources in order to get.

To curb his anger and not face a potential lawsuit, that was a headache he didn't care for.

He settled for firing all of them instead.

[hjparisian]

always yours-harry j potter x reader

p: harry j potter x fem! reader w: TW !!! toxic relationship, abuse, fluff ending, cussing, not proof read summary: harry and (y/n) come across each other a bit after the war and reconnect. a/n: another request from a lovely follower! so sorry this is so late. i haven't had motivation to write and couldn't figure out what to even write. if any of you guys are in an abusive relationship, please try to reach out to someone! i know it's better said than done but you all deserve the best.

The light breeze felt perfect to (Y/N). It was her day off of work from the Ministry today, so (Y/N) decided to use this day for herself to relax. Merlin knows that her work and her boyfriend has her feeling drained.

(Y/N) had just exited Flourish and Blotts, nose in one of the new books she bought. Her focus was disrupted when she bumped into a large figure, making her drop her book.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I should've been looking where I was going," (Y/N) said to the person as she went to pick up her book but someone else grabbed it first.

"Oh it's alright, no worries," a familiar voice said to her.

(Y/N) looked up to the person handing her her book back.

"Wait, H-Harry?"

"(Y/N)?"

The girl was in shock. In front of her was her old friend and former crush, Harry Potter. The last time they've seen each other was at the Battle of Hogwarts. Though she had returned to Hogwarts for her eighth year, Harry did not.

"What are you doing here?" (Y/N) asked the man.

"I was just grabbing some stuff for school."

"School?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

"That's amazing Harry!" (Y/N) said to him. "I mean you were the best at the class. Plus you were such an amazing teacher when you taught Dumbledore's Army so it doesn't surprise me."

"Thanks, (Y/N). And what are you doing?"

"Oh, I just came from Flourish and Blotts. It's my day off from the Ministry and I was looking for new books."

"Well," Harry says. "What else do you have planned for today?"

"Honestly, nothing else."

"Do you want to come over to my place?" Harry asked her. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. I was just hoping we could catch up maybe?"

"I would love to," (Y/N) said without a second thought.

Harry and (Y/N) exited the Leaky Cauldron and apparated to Harry's place. It was an apartment not too far from London. Harry unlocked the door and let (Y/N) enter.

It was a rather simple but clean apartment. There were a couple photos on the walls from Harry's years at Hogwarts. One that caught (Y/N)'s eye was a picture of Dumbledore's Army during their fifth year. Harry was in the middle of the photo and (Y/N) somehow had a spot right next to Harry.

"Bring back memories, huh?" Harry said as he stood behind her.

"Yeah. I still remember the first meeting." (Y/N) said. "I wanted to punch Zacharias in the face."

Harry laughed at your comment. "Me too, but he did come around."

Harry guided (Y/N) to the couch in his living room.

"Did you want anything to drink?" Harry asked her. "I got water, butterbeer, firewhiskey."

"Some butterbeer please."

Harry left to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of butter beer, handing one to (Y/N).

"So, how are Hermione and Ron?"

"They're good. They got engaged recently."

"Really?" (Y/N) said in awe. "That's wonderful! I remember talking with Hermione about Ron back in sixth year. Finally got her to admit her feelings for him."

Harry nodded his head, grinning at the memories. "They were both too stubborn to realize it."

(Y/N) nodded before taking a sip of the butterbeer. "What about you Harry? You were with Ginny last I heard."

"I was but not anymore." (Y/N) had a shocked look on her face. "We broke up a while back."

"Really? And Ron hasn't killed you?" (Y/N) asked.

Harry chuckled a bit. "It was actually Ginny who ended it. It was mutual so no bad blood between us."

"That's good then."

A question had been burning on the back of Harry's mind. Thankfully, they were on the topic of it.

"What about you? Are you with anyone?"

(Y/N) set down the bottle she was holding before she answered. "I am actually."

Harry felt his heart drop a bit. "Who is it?"

(Y/N) started messing with the hem of her top, feeling a bit nervous. "Do you remember Cormac McLaggen? He tried out for keeper our sixth year."

For some reason, Harry felt his heart crumble a bit. That bloke Cormac is with (Y/N)? Those two couldn't be anymore different. How could that troll earn her love?

"Harry?"

(Y/N)'s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Are you alright Harry? You were zoning out a bit," (Y/N) pointed out.

"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I remember him, bit of a jerk from what I remember in sixth year." Harry said. "Is Cormac good to you?"

(Y/N) avoided eye contact and kept messing with her shirt. "Oh yeah. I mean we have a few arguments here and there, but he means well. Do you mind bringing another bottle of butterbeer please?"

Harry nodded before getting up to the kitchen again. He didn't necessarily believe (Y/N), but he wasn't going to prod on their relationship.

The two had been enjoying reconnecting. Harry told (Y/N) stories from his first year teaching at Hogwarts, one including how a third year girl sent him a singing card on Valentine's Day. (Y/N) also told Harry about her job at the Ministry and how her coworker spilt coffee on Kingsley Shacklebolt's robes.

(Y/N) looked at the clock on the nearby wall to see that it was a quarter past twelve am. She couldn't believe that she's been talking to Harry for this long. She had to get home.

"Hey Harry, I have to get going," (Y/N) told the man sitting next to her.

Harry looked at the clock to also see how late it was. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize the time."

"It's quite alright Harry, I had a wonderful time with you anyways."

"Will you be apparating home?" Harry asks her. "Don't want you to head home by yourself if you aren't."

"Yes, I am. You don't need to worry," she said to him. "Besides, I know a few spells thanks to a certain Gryffindor."

Harry smiled a bit, knowing she was referring to him.

"I'll see you later Harry," (Y/N) said while handing him a paper.

The girl disapperated, returning to her home.

Harry unfolded the paper, which revealed some numbers. It was (Y/N)'s phone number. Right under it, she left a small message.

Call me! :)

The next morning, (Y/N) woke up to hearing noises coming from the kitchen. She put on a sweater and walked out to find her boyfriend Cormac cooking.

"Good morning," he said to her.

"Morning," she said.

"Thought I'd make us breakfast before you go to work," said Cormac. "Also where were you last night? You got home pretty late."

"I was catching up with an old friend."

Cormac hummed before asking her the dreaded question. "Who?"

"Oh it's no one special," she nervously said.

Cormac raised an eyebrow at her before asking again. "Who were you with, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) cleared her throat before speaking. "Harry."

"Potter?"

"Yeah him."

(Y/N) looked at her boyfriend, seeing a look of resentment in his eyes.

"I never really liked that bloke." Cormac said while handing (Y/N) her plate. "Gave the keeper spot to Weasley just because that's his best friend."

(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to say anything to make Cormac upset.

The two ate until (Y/N) had to go to work. While heading to work, (Y/N) felt her phone buzz. She saw it was a number she didn't recognize, but the back of her mind was hoping it was a certain boy.

(Y/N) took chance and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello?" A familiar voice said. "Is this (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) laughed a bit before responding. "Yes it is."

"Oh good. It's Harry."

"I know," (Y/N) said, smiling. "I recognized your voice."

"Ah yeah," Harry said. "How are you?"

"Good. Just heading to work."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I can call later."

(Y/N) felt herself smiling more.

"No it's alright! I have time. Besides, it makes the travel to work less lonely."

And so began a new routine of Harry calling her on her way to work. Which then went into them calling each other after work. On nights Cormac was away, Harry and (Y/N) would call each other.

Harry and (Y/N) began seeing each other more in person too. He'd join her on trips to Diagon Alley for more books or to grab a bite after a long day of work.

This change did not go by unnoticed by Cormac, though. He noticed how distracted she became, how she smiled at her phone more, how she left for work earlier and came back later, how she'd go out more.

The boy had enough.

One day, when (Y/N) had returned from work late, Cormac was sitting in her living room, waiting for her arrival.

"Oh! Didn't know you were here Cormac, I thought you wouldn't get home 'til later," the girl said upon noticing her boyfriend on her couch.

"Where were you?" The boy asked her.

Cormac had gotten up and walked towards her, glaring at her.

(Y/N) had begun to feel a bit nervous, knowing Cormac wouldn't like the reason she had returned late.

"I-I was at work," (Y/N) stammered out.

"What about after work?" Cormac questioned her. "Where did you go?"

"Just went to grab a bite."

Cormac began pestering her. "With who? You had to have been with someone if you've taken this long."

(Y/N) felt herself starting to shake. She had never enjoyed when Cormac began to act like this, knowing he was getting angry and a bit emotional.

"I was just out with a friend," she meekly said.

"I wanna know who you were with (Y/N)."

"It was just a friend, Cormac."

"Don't bullshit me. Was it with Potter?"

(Y/N)'s hesitation was all Cormac needed to get his answer.

"It was with Potter, wasn't it."

(Y/N) couldn't lie to him, knowing he figured her out. She nodded.

"Yes, but he's just a friend."

Cormac laughed at her. "Oh really, (Y/N)? Doesn't look like it to me. All those days you came home late, were on the phone for hours. Probably all with fucking Potter. Wouldn't be surprised if you went and shagged him."

--TW description of physical abuse--

"Cormac, I didn't shag him! We were just reconnecting, that's all. Please let's just tal-"

A loud smack echoed through the room.

Cormac had hit her.

"Shut up you bitch!"

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s face. Cormac took noticed of this and began laughing at her.

"You're crying?" The boy shoved her against the wall. "What if I give you something to actually cry about?"

"Cormac, stop!" (Y/N) sobbed.

He let go of her and let her drop to the ground. (Y/N) had begun sobbing loudly, hyperventilating.

"Get out (Y/N)! Go to your fucking boyfriend Potter for all I care." Cormac screamed at her.

--TW end--

(Y/N) had pushed herself up and got out the door before Cormac slammed it behind her. She decided to use her strength to apparate to the only person that could help her.

She knocked on the door and waited a second before it opened to reveal her former schoolmate.

Harry stared at her before bringing her inside and embracing her. She flinched, but began melting into his embrace after telling herself that it's just Harry.

"I just need to know," Harry began. "Did Cormac do this to you?"

(Y/N) just nodded, not wanting to speak.

Harry felt himself become angry. How could Cormac do this to her? She was an angel, unlike that asshole. He never deserved her. But did Harry himself deserved (Y/N)? He couldn't protect her, keep her safe. This could've been avoided if Harry was with (Y/N).

He couldn't think about that now when (Y/N) was in his arms needing care. He brought the girl to his bathroom, doing his best to try and tend the bruises that littered her skin. Harry drew a bath and brought a change of clothes for (Y/N).

"I'll be right outside, I promise." He told her. "I'll have to finish checking your bruises when your done."

Once (Y/N) decided to get out of the bath half an hour later, Harry made sure he didn't miss any other injuries before bringing her to his bed. He was just going to let her rest until a hand grabs his.

"Don't leave. Please."

Harry would always listen to (Y/N).

The boy stayed with her until sleep finally took over. As much as Harry wanted to stay with her, he had business to take care of.

Thankfully, he remembered where (Y/N) lived after dropping her off multiple times so he apparated in the night to her door. He banged on the door hard until it opened, revealing his new worst enemy.

"What do you want Potter? (Y/N) isn't here."

"Oh I know." Harry told Cormac. "Just came for a chat."

Harry stepped forward in an attempt to enter the house until Cormac stopped him.

"I'm busy right now."

"Well I guess I can try to make this quick," Harry said.

A punch was thrown at the older wizard, catching him off guard. Harry grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed them into the apartment, shoving him up against the nearest wall.

"I know what you did to (Y/N), McLaggen. How dare you hurt her!" Harry screamed at him.

"I didn't do such thing." Another punch was thrown.

"Don't you dare lie to me! I know you did it. You hurt her! You never deserved her."

"Oh but you think you do?" Cormac scoffed at Harry, while trying to push him off.

"I would've treated her way better than you ever have."

"You want a slut like her? You're pathetic Potter."

Those words had enraged Harry more than ever. The two continued fighting, Harry having the upper hand. One more punch landed on Cormac before he fell to the floor.

"You better stay away from (Y/N). If I hear that you stepped one foot near her I won't hesitate to punch you again," Harry spat at him before making his leave back to his home.

Harry headed for his room, wanting to make sure that the girl he loves was still there. Fortunately, she was, but she was awake.

"Where did you go Harry? I was getting worried."

"I just went to take care of something," he said, trying to reassure her.

"What do you need to take care of at this time?" (Y/N) said while walking toward him.

A small gasp slipped her month before her hand made contact with his cheek. Harry would be lying if he said it didn't feel nice.

"You're hurt Harry!" (Y/N) exclaimed before dragging him to his bathroom.

"(Y/N) love, I'm fine." He kind of wasn't. Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw the marks Cormac apparently left him. He was too focused on getting vengeance for (Y/N) that he ignored it.

(Y/N) began cleaning his face. "Harry, you have dried blood on your face. I don't think that's considered fine. What were you doing?"

"If I tell you, you have to promise you won't be upset," Harry said to her.

"What?" (Y/N) paused, confused.

"Just promise me."

"Fine. I promise I won't get upset."

"Alright, well," Harry began. The adrenaline was gone and he began feeling nervous. "I went to visit Cormac at your guys apartment."

"You went to see Cormac?" (Y/N) squeaked. "Why would you do that Harry?"

"I couldn't stand what he did to you (Y/N). He hurt you. You didn't deserve what he did. I had to teach him a lesson."

"So you went to beat each other up?"

"Well, him more so than me," Harry joked.

"Why? Why would you beat him up for me?"

"Because (Y/N). I love you."

(Y/N)'s eyes widen in shock. "W-what?"

"I love you. And I think I always have. Seeing you brought back those feelings I've had back when we were at Hogwarts. I would do anything to protect you (Y/N)."

"Oh Harry," tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes.

Harry noticed and got a little bit worried. "It's alright if you don't feel the same way. I know you just had to deal with Cormac so-"

Arms wrapped around him and lips met his. Harry froze for a second before melting into it, gently placing his hands on her waist.

(Y/N) was the first to break the kiss, to respond to Harry's declaration of love to her.

"I love you too, Harry."

(Y/N) finished cleaning up Harry before heading back to his bed. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm and safe.

"I promise to protect you no matter what," Harry said to her. "I would do anything for you."

"And I will do the same for you, because you're mine."

"And I will always be yours."

[flowery-mess]

Swan Lake

Noah x ballerina reader

I will never forget the way I was feeling at that stage in front of all those people. My parents and siblings in first row, watching me with eyes full of tears and pride. I got the lead role in Swan Lake at the age of 16 which was seen as big accomplishment in ballet world. In that moment I felt happy, proud of myself and stronger than ever. But that didn’t last long.

Just a seconds after the big red curtain was closed and me and other dancers went in the direction of our changing room, I heard my name being called. Screamed, actually.

I turned around to see our trainer speed walking to me. I quickly went over the whole play in my head. What did I do wrong? I couldn’t think of anything, I felt good. She found million reasons to tell me I was a bad choice for playing the lead role, that I’m too fat and I won’t play on the next date.

That was it. That night I told my parents I’m done with ballet and I’m quitting immediately. My mother was ballet dancer too, we talked a lot about how hard it was for me lately, so she agreed with my decision and went to talk to my trainer. I packed my things and never saw that woman again. That felt like a big rock fell off my shoulders. That was 10 years ago.

-

“What are you thinking about?” Noah asked, his hand gently placed on my thigh as we were driving to my family home for Saturday lunch with my family.

“It’s 10 years anniversary of me ending my ballet career. I was thinking about it a lot recently.”

“Thinking about as?” he waited for my response as he didn’t really understand how I feel about it.

“As I miss it, I guess. I was thinking about talking with my mom about it today. Also I looked up some ballet classes in our area. But I don’t know, it was just a silly idea.” I shrugged it off.

I never really talked with Noah about my ballet career. I told him I did ballet for 14 years and quit for mental health issues. I mean, it’s very much known how the ballet industry works, so he understood. I have very mixed feelings about getting back into it at my age, so I haven’t told anyone yet.

I tried to stay healthy and fit, I sometimes go to open dance classes and sometimes I try some ballet steps. I still got it. I am a lucky one, I still have good stretches and I learn steps quickly. I just got bored of doing it only in our living room.

“Really? That’s not a silly idea, it’s actually a really cool idea. Did you find any good places?” I was surprised with Noah’s excitement. He is very supportive of everything I do, but I guess I expected different reaction.

“I like two ballet studios. They have some good teachers and also open classes, just for hobby attendance. One is on Mondays and the other one is on Thursdays, so I can try both and then see which one I like more.”

“Are you signed up already?”

“No, I am not sure Noah. It brings up lot of bad memories, 10 years ago it got me into a really bad place and I’m scared it’s going to be the same this time.” I felt tears coming as I thought of little 13 years old me crying through the whole night, because I was told I’m fat for ballet. That I’m not good enough. That I’m too tall to be a ballerina. That my skin is too pale. That I got in just because of my mother. That I’m never going to make it.

Those memories make me feel little and so vulnerable.

“I’m sure it will be great honey. If you miss it, then you should try it. But it’s your decision, okay? I don’t want to push you into anything. Take your time to think about it, talk with your mom and you will see what’s her opinion on this, right?” he brought his hand that was holding mine in it to his lips and placed small kisses against my palm.

“Thank you.” I shot him a smile which he gladly returned.

-

I loved days like today, spending time with my family. All of them love Noah, so after we have lunch, we are usually both separated and have conversation with someone else. Firstly, I talked to my siblings about college and their new internships, while Noah talked with my dad about new music and their upcoming Europe tour. My dad absolutely loves Bad omens and I am sure he is their biggest fan. When my family visits for shows, he never wants to be in the backstage, watching the show from safe space. He always goes in the crowd, which makes my mum crazy scared every single time.

I used this as a chance to talk to mom about the ballet thing that was going around in my head.

“Mom do you mind coming with me outside for a minute?”

“Of course darling.”

We took our coffees with us as we made our way to the garden and sit on the big couch that my parents had there for my whole life. That thing is going to outlive all of us.

“What is it darling?”

“What do you mean?” I tried to hide my worries, but my mom knows me too well.

“I know when my baby is worried about something. What is it? Is it Noah? Are you sad he’s going to leave for tour soon?”

“Oh no, well, yes that too, but it’s not the first time, that will be okay. It’s something I wanted to talk about especially with you.” I played with the cup in my hands and avoided the topic as long as I could.

“Come on hon, spit it out.”

“I was thinking about getting back into ballet.” I said and kept my eyes low, focused on the green grass. I looked up just because my mom wasn’t saying anything. “What? Are you going to say something? I don’t know what this face means.” I was honestly so confused with the way her face was looking at me. Was she happy about? Sad? I couldn’t tell.

“Well, I was expecting this much sooner than now.”

“What?”

“I always thought you will want to get back to it at some point in your life hon. You loved it. Aside from those ugly things, you loved ballet. I was so angry at that woman who ruined for you.”

“Why did you never say anything?” I was so confused. She was waiting for this for years and never talked about it with me?

“Because it’s your decision, not mine. I didn’t want you to think I was disappointed with you or pushing you back into it. Did you think of where would you start with classes? And would you want to take part in plays again?” She was right. It is just mine decision and with everything she saw me go through I understand she was worried.

“I found two studios near our home that look good. They have weekly open classes that I was thinking about. But I wanted to talk with you first about it.”

Then we fell into long dialogue about everything connected with be going back into ballet. My mom gave me a courage to at least try it. She said my eyes lit up when I talked about the good memories I had from my child age. She also told me that I am more mature than I was back then and even if I don’t think I can handle it, I can. And she was right.

I’m a grown woman now, I can handle myself and protect myself. It’s also just open class for everyone who wants to try ballet, there will be no judgement.

-

“I’m going to try it.” We left my parents house later than expected, so it was dark outside when we were driving back.

“The open classes? Did you talk with your mom about it?”

“Yes and she said I should give it a chance. So I guess I won’t be home on Monday evening.”

“Can I go watch you?” Noah asked.

“What?” I returned him a question, not knowing what he meant.

“I mean I never saw you do your ballet thing and you will be wearing those ballet outfits and I’m sure that will be hot.” He said as if it was obvious fact that I should’ve known.

“You’re not being serious right now, are you?” I tried to hold my laugh in at his innocent clueless face.

“Well I’m not, but I would really like to see your little ballet outfit for sure.” He turned his face to you so you could see his smirk.

“Sure, watch the road you perv.”

-

It had already been a month since I started going to open classes in the studio I chose after the first week. I chose the one closer to our home, their dance rooms were bigger and more modern and our teacher was a lovely girl, possibly my age.

And it felt amazing. It felt like I was alive again. Don’t get me wrong I loved my life with Noah, my work and everything, but this felt like the missing piece.

While I was changing into my clothes after today’s class, our teacher Molly came to talk to me.

“Listen Y/N, I know you said you have bad experience and memories with professional ballet, but we have few spots open in our semi professional group and I thought you’d be great candidate. I see you’re learning faster than anyone in your class and I’m scared you would get bored after a while. There will be auditions, but I can get a word in for you and see if you could skip them. Just think about it and let me know as soon as you decide please.”

That night I came running home to share that news with Noah.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” I screamed just seconds after I opened the door.

“Studio.”

When I opened the door Noah turned in his chair to face me.

“Did I do something?” he looked scared.

“What?”

“Why are you screaming and running, I’m scared I did something.” You let out a chuckle at his words.

“No, but I got news. Great news.”

“Let me hear them.”  I walked over to him and sat in his lap.

“I just got offered a place in semi professional group at the studio. Without auditions, Molly wants me there.”

“Honey that’s great news! That’s amazing news!” he stood up with me in his arms and spined us around.

“So you think I should accept that offer?”

“You haven’t already?”

“No, I wanted to think about it.”

“Judging by your reaction, there’s nothing to think about.” He smiled into our kiss.

“I guess I’m back on track then.” I kissed him back.

-

Long story short, I accepted Molly’s offer and started with my new group. I had classes 4 times a week, which was bit hard to get used to, but after while it was okay.

Noah left for tour, so at least I got something to do with my free time.

Noah leaving was also good for another reason. There is time difference between us, so we usually text each other or have short calls, so my worries are easy to hide.

Last week Molly told us that our group will be playing Swan Lake few months from now on, which brought back some memories. Semi professional groups still play in midsized theatre, I joined them when there wasn’t any, so I expected some play to come soon, but not this one.

I had mixed feelings about it, thinking if I want to play or if I just pass this one. Applications are closing in three days and I still haven’t applied for any role, which was weird for Molly.

She asked me about it after last class, so I told her about my ballet history, how Swan Lake basically ruined it for me. Molly is very positive person, so she told me something that got stuck in my head. She said I could take it as an opportunity and change Swan Lake from something bad to something really good in my life.

Truth is, I am thinking about applying for Odette/Odile, but I haven’t told anyone yet.

-

“Okay that’s enough love, what is going on?” Noah asked through the phone and I saw his forehead wrinkles were making his worried face. It’s scary how well he knows me, but with tomorrow being the last day for applications I needed to tell him.

“Our group is going to play Swan Lake in a few months and I don’t know if I should apply or not. It’s the play that made me quit.”

“Looks like it’s your second chance to make the best out of it. Listen, you were worried about even getting into ballet again and look at you now! I know you’re worried now, but wouldn’t you regret not even trying it?” I felt like I was on the phone with Molly right now.

“I know, I was thinking about applying for the lead role, I did it back then too. But maybe I should do other role?”

“Oh no love, if anyone is supposed to be the lead role in this play, it’s you.”

“You have to say this, you’re my boyfriend Noah.”

“Well wouldn’t you be the same if I was in your position? That’s what you do for your partner. You know how many songs would be forgotten and never released if you didn’t support me? There is lot of them I thought weren’t good enough, but you made me finish them. I may don’t understand ballet, but I understand you and I know you would regret not applying. So you get your ass up right now and fill what ever you need to fill and send it to Molly or I’m going to do it.”

And he was right, I would regret it. But I still couldn’t believe myself when I saw ‘send’ on my screen after I applied for Odette/Odile.

-

Molly informed me that me and 5 other girls applied for the same role, so there will be two rounds of auditions, first one starting on Monday, which gives me 6 days to prepare for it. Noah is also coming back home on Monday, so I’m happy I will share the outcome with him. Either we will celebrate or he will make me his comfort food and I’m happy with both options.

-

I spend the last 6 days going over the choreography for the first round of auditions. Everyday after work I went straight home and practiced. Last night I didn’t get a chance to talk with Noah, because he was already on his way back to the states. I at least talked to my mom this morning.

“Y/N you’re next.” I heard Molly from the ballet room.

-

“I’m homeee.” I heard Noahs voice that I missed so much. I left the pans on low heat and left kitchen to meet Noah in the living room.

I didn’t waste any time and went straight in for a kiss.

“Missed me much?” he managed to say between our kisses.

“Very much.” I looked at his face, tired face, and held it in my hands “Hi love.”

“Hi.” He leaned his forehead against mine as we enjoyed bit of silence and each other’s presence after month and two weeks apart.

“How was the flight?” I broke the silence, took his hand and led him into our kitchen to finish dinner.

“It was okay. I slept most of the time, but I’m still very tired. And I need a shower.”

“You can go take a shower now, it will take few more minutes until it’s done.” I pointed to the food.

“Okay.” Noah got up, left kiss on my nose and went to get shower. That’s what I thought at least. On his way to our bathroom, he realized I didn’t tell him about the audition.

“Y/N? Wasn’t the audition today?” it was, but I wanted to tell him about the result over dinner.

“It was, but I wanted to tell you later.” I tried to hide the smile on my face.

“You got through to the second audition, didn’t you?” he caught your smile and immediately knew the answer. “I guess we can celebrate right now in the shower huh? Are you going to join me?”

-

“So girls, I want to thank you for participating in this audition. It was hard to decide, but in the end, we agreed on one name. And it’s you, Y/N. We were amazed by your performance and we feel like your experience with this play could help us to make the best of it. Congratulations!” Molly gave me a hug and whispered in my ear that she knew it was going to be me from the beginning.

Noah and my mom said the same. My mom made sure she put date of the premiere in hers and dad’s calendar so they wouldn’t miss it. Noah also made sure to clear that day months in advance and welcomed me home with a flower and dinner as a celebration.

-

Breathe in, breathe out. And repeat. I stood in backstage already in my costume. I saw Noah and my parents in the first row as the rest of the room filled with strangers. Strangers that are going to be watching me in a few minutes.

“Are you ready Y/N? How are you feeling?” I felt Molly’s hand on my shoulder.

“I’m nervous, but also excited. I haven’t preformed for over decade, so I hope I don’t panic.”

“You’ll be great. We did lot of work, all of you will do great tonight.”

She then went to talk to other girls and I felt my phone buzz in my hand. It was Noah.

“Don’t be nervous, we’re very excited to see you shine tonight. You’ll kill it babe, I love you.” Oh my sweet Noah. Supportive as always.

-

I stood still in my pose as the curtain was closing. I let out a big breath I didn’t even realised I was holding in when the curtain was fully closed. I turned around to see my friends and in that moment we realized we just finished our premiere of the Swan Lake. And it was perfect. We did group hug, with Molly joining us. It was completely different than 10 years ago. This night was full of support and love.

I went to change into my normal clothes and then to meet Noah and my parents.

My dad and Noah both had bouquets in their hands and my mom had tears in her eyes. She was also the first one to pull me into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you Y/N, you can’t even imagine. You grew up into a beautiful woman and you just showed me how strong you are.”

“Thank you, mom, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Then it was my dad who pulled me into strong hug. My dad didn’t show emotions a lot, so I appreciated him coming tonight.

I really wanted to literally jump into Noah’s arms, but I kept calm in front of my parents. They said their goodbyes and left, because they have long road ahead of them.

As soon as they left the parking lot I turned to Noah and attacked him with hugs and kisses.

“Slow down baby, let me congratulate you and give you this beautiful flower.” It really was beautiful bouquet. Noah always got me beautiful flowers.

“How was it? Did you like it?” I was interested in Noah’s opinion, because it was his first ballet play he saw.

“It was beautiful! You were amazing! I know you can stretch your legs right, but I didn’t know you can stretch them like this.” I didn’t know if I should slap his arm for his stupid comment or laugh at him as he was trying to show me what he meant and trying to do the pose he was referring to.

“Okay ballerina I get it!” I laugh and stopped him from what he was doing before he got himself injured.

“Do you want to go out for dinner and drinks? Or go home and order something? You must be hungry.” We intertwined our hands and Noah led me to his car. He was right, I didn’t eat much today, because of the nerves.

“I think I want to go home, order something to eat, have a glass of wine, have hot bubble bath and then my back could use a massage…”

“I will give you massage only if you let me join you in the bath.” Of course he wouldn’t miss that chance.

“Deal. Let’s get home.” Noah started his car and took my hand in his.

“I love you and I’m so proud of you. I’m getting tickets to every show and I’m making the guys come with me.”

“Okay.” I laughed, but I knew he was serious. I’m sure that at the next show I’m going to see the core of BO crew in the front row.

“But I’m serious, I love you.”

“I love you too Noah, thank you for being by my side for all of this.”

“Always.”

[microwave-core]

Girl Dinner

Cynthia x Fem! Reader

Cynthia was always so busy, even during your dates. But every now and then, she finds a way to make it up to you.

“-Yeah, about that… Work’s keeping me late tonight. A new challenger arrived a few minutes ago, so I’m not off the hook until they are gone.”

“Oh, I see… Well, I’ll be waiting for you at home, then. Just let me know when you’re on your way so that I can get dinner warmed up for you.”

“You don’t need to do that, babe, I might be out pretty late. I’ll make sure to text when I leave, but don’t feel the need to stay up for my sake.”

You pause, unsure of how to respond for a second. You unconsciously tap the phone next to your ear with your fingers, hoping to hide your disappointment at the unfortunate news your girlfriend bestowed upon you. A quiet sigh passes through your lips, your name coming from the other side of the phone recapturing your attention.

“Hey, I know that we haven’t had time to ourselves recently, but I’ll make sure to spend as much time as possible with you the second I have free time, okay?” 

“It’s not your fault that you have to work late, love, but I’ll be looking forward to it… so make sure to kick their ass for me.” Cynthia’s laugh, even muffled through the phone, is enough to bring a smile back onto your face. 

“Ha! The kid’s only at Bertha right now, but if they make their way up to me, I’ll make sure to win, just for you. Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Another sigh drops from your lips, as you gently lower your phone to the kitchen counter below. You meant what you said, that it wasn’t her fault she was stuck at work, nor was it her fault for being busy with important archeological studies, nor was there much she could do to stop people from approaching her in public for pictures, or autographs, or battles, or whatnot…

But you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed whenever it happened. You felt bad about it, incredibly bad about it, but you couldn’t fend off the feeling, and Cynthia knew that intimately, as well, and knowing that made you feel a tiny bit worse. The odd pang in your heart weighed down by selfishness.

Because it was selfish to feel that way, in your mind, at least, even if Cynthia told you otherwise. Even when she told you that you’re allowed, if not entitled, to be selfish at times in your relationship, that you have the right to be disappointed when your plans get interrupted, even if it’s not your lover’s fault.

You push yourself away from the counter, wrapping up your girlfriend’s dinner to be placed in the fridge, busy to get your mind off of things for a moment, less you droop over the poor counter feeling bad for yourself until the light of your life came home. The dishes stacked in the sink never seemed so welcoming.

Rolling up your sleeves, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to Cynthia. Thinking about her is a normal activity for you, sure, but when your mind gets muddled with negativity, it’s difficult to trudge out of it in full. Normally, you could distract yourself with thoughts of your wonderful dates, but now it was hard to gleam over how many of them end.

Thinking about the picnic you two had last week, you smile at the memory of how the sun glinted in her eyes and how it reflected, almost blindingly so, off of her blonde hair, and the playful banter you exchanged while laying in the warmth of the sun, both outstretched on the soft blanket below, but you can’t help but remember how it ended, with her receiving a sudden call from work, prompting her to leave suddenly, followed by countless apologies.

You could also think about the times that you went out into town, to get food or to see a movie or to go shopping or to the museum or anything else of note, only to be stopped by fans, approaching with wide smiles and shocked expressions, asking for her attention for a few moments. She made the effort to keep interactions short and sweet, not wanting to take away time for your date, but she was too kind to just shoo them away outright (not that you would ask her to do so).

Arceus above, what you would give to spend time outside with her with no interruptions. Sure, you could always spend time in the confines of your home, where no prying eyes could see you, where you both opened up fully, vulnerable, to one another, and you loved those times immensely, but you would love to explore dates outside of said walls, to date like normal people do, without fame or influence. 

Even then, though, you’d still give a lot for her to come home earlier than midnight, whether she be wrapped up in the league or out of the region to look at fancy ruins, to spend time wrapped in each other’s arms, talking quietly in bed, as if the world itself would hear anything above a whisper. To spend time with each other, with no regards to the time slipping you by or the dishes in the sink. 

…But, to be fair, there are a lot of things you would rather be doing than putting sponge to dish, then hands under scalding water. It helped time pass, at least, because sooner rather than later, Cynthia would be home, and you’d have her dinner pulled out already, and sit with her as she talks about her day, about this hot shot challenger trying to snatch her crown during the dark of night. 

Once she was back, you’d talk all you liked, until you would practically push her to bed, knowing about the weariness that’d settled into her bones from a long day. And for now, that would do. Seeing each other each night and each early morning would hold your attention quota for the time being, and in time you’d both have your chance to pull away from everyone else and focus on nothing but each other, just as your relationship has always gone.

“Are you sure-”

“Yes, I’m positive, everything is going to go perfectly, dear.” Cynthia stands behind you in the mirror, fingers flowing and cutting through your hair. “You look wonderful, by the way.” “You were the one who asked me to dress my best.” You roll your eyes playfully, but are deeply grateful for the compliment. Cynthia was no slouch, either, deliciously black dress hugging her curves, simultaneously showing too much yet too little skin.

“And you delivered, just like you always do.” She shoots a warm smile your way, locking eyes through the mirror’s reflection, before connecting a thin, metal clasp at the base of your neck, the necklace she had bought for you for your first anniversary. She fiddles with it for a second, admiring her work, before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Now then, are you ready? We wouldn’t want to be late for dinner.” 

“I’m ready thanks to your finishing touch, yeah.” You nod, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you exit the bathroom, watching your lover walk to the kitchen and then to the front door, keys in hand. She had told you excitedly the day before about the dinner reservations she had made. It was a fancier place than you were used to, but you couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up in your core.

“Then, let’s get going.” The smile on her face was dangerously contagious, both trodding to the car with pep in your step, albeit with care. It would be an unfortunate end to date night if you were to trip and fall due to clumsiness or a broken heel and end up making out with the concrete of the driveway.

You chat about your day on the drive to the mysterious restaurant she had picked out, having not done so earlier. Typically, that would be the first thing you talked about when both at home, but she was spurring you on to get ready the second she crossed the threshold. It seems like she wanted to keep your mind off of whatever she was planning, and was doing a good job, at the very least, as you have no idea how much time passed between stepping into the car and stepping out of it.

With your hand in hers, she leads you into an elegant building, leading to you admiring the fancy, if not overly expensive, interior, as she talks to the receptionist and, after a short walk, brings you to a table. Looking out the window to your side, you had no idea that you were so high up, off of the ground, until gazing down at the city lights below.

“Well… do you like it? I’ve been looking at this place for some time now, but they’re almost always packed.” Cynthia props herself up on her arm, watching the light twinkling in your eyes.

“It’s beautiful…” The words roll off of your tongue subconsciously. It takes a second to tear your eyes away from the cityscape below and back to your lover, and then to the seats around you. “Are… are we alone?”

“That we are. Getting a room to ourselves wasn’t easy. I had to pull a few strings, but I knew it would be worth it, if nothing but to see your reaction.” Her expression brightens, as if saying ‘and it was worth it’ without needing the words. 

Thankfully, the room wasn’t too large, seeming to be a private venue to be rented out. Otherwise, it would have felt much more awkward, surrounded by empty tables as far as the eye could see. And maybe there was a slight, quiet echo whenever you spoke, but it was hard to care at the moment. Not when the world’s most beautiful woman was at your side.

[em1e]

⠀ 五条 + 夏 // RECUERDOS ⠀ ༝ ༝ gojo satoru + geto suguru ⠀ ༝ ༝ 3.2k words ⠀ ⚠︎ angsty kinda my b. this is a cyoe type story ! ⠀ — [ part 2 ] you were supposed to be dead, but by some miracle gojo's found you. geto, too.

i. dead

He thought he was going crazy, at first. 

Who wouldn’t? You were supposed to be dead. Go on and call him psycho for seeing you in everything, everywhere. 

The first thing he catches is your scent (it’s like picking up on something so vaguely familiar from childhood - an old memory that makes him double take and look around for what could possibly bring back the reminder of happier times). Gojo follows the smell absentmindedly through the busy streets, haphazardly bumping into other people and muttering half-hearted apologies without pause. He stops when he sees (h/c) hair enter a local grocery store.

It wasn’t possible, right? You were supposed to be dead. He follows behind without much thought, the soft chime of the doorbell making the clerk look up and greet him with a smile. He doesn’t acknowledge them, eyes set on your figure as you head towards the back of the shop - already knowing where whatever you have in mind to purchase is. Gojo keeps his distance, watching from three aisles over as you pick between two different apples, weighing and squeezing and examining until you decide the one in your right hand is much better than the one on your left. You bag the right one and put the left back in its place. From here, he can see your face clearly and he thinks numbly if there is a God out there, surely they are taunting me.

It’s you. You in every way he remembers you. The same soft gaze over everything your eyes meet, the same gentle but deliberate touch, everything done with confident intent. There’s small hints to prove you’ve grown older, that you have changed - more adult, more mature, but deep down he feels it. It’s you. 

He finds himself following a few steps after you as you leave the store. He can feel his own heartbeat in his ears, mind traveling a million miles a second as he tries to come up with some sort of explanation as to what was happening in front of his eyes. You stop at a pop-up flower shop, laughing animatedly with the owner before deciding on a bouquet of your favorite and carrying them away in one hand, the other clutching the rest of your belongings and recently purchased groceries. And he watches as you enter a nearby apartment, watches through the window as you greet the doorman with a smile and offer him one of your flowers, and watches you disappear behind the elevator doors. 

He leaves with a bitter taste in his mouth. 

ii. reunited

You were supposed to be dead. 

He’s brought back to that reminder looking at old pictures of when you went to Jujutsu High with him and Geto. Your smile so wide in each picture, your eyes crinkle in the corners with your arms thrown on either boy's shoulders - the bitter taste returns to his mouth. 

He knows now, you aren’t dead. Some part of his mind rejects the thought, some part of him rejoices in the fact. Gojo’s done some research on his own (also read: stalking) to find you seem to have a normal life. What happened after that fight?

Memories flood back from that dreadful night ; buildings were crumbled around them, and all Gojo could manage to think about after the demolition was where you were. He watched you take a bad hit, watched you fall off one of the many now broken down buildings, and you had yet to reappear among the other faces. Geto, as if sensing his friend's stress, starts to scream out. 

“(y/n)!”  

Geto’s scream is met with silence, and for once in his life, Gojo can’t find it in himself to move forward. To join his friend in his search for something. A corpse, part of your shirt, anything that could show proof of your remains, to prove that you were even there in the first place. 

Geto finds nothing in your wake, falling to his knees into the rubble and digging until his knuckles are all scraped from the cement and brick and glass and digging still when his fingertips are raw and bleeding, hoping to find anything. 

But he doesn’t. Gojo remembers numbly how they buried an empty casket. Pronounced dead with no body to match the call. He’s brought back to wondering why. Why you never told them otherwise, why you never came back to the school, why you never fixed this wrong. Does Geto know you’re alive? Your death absolutely crushed him, molded itself around his heart and formed a tough shell that Gojo finds hard to crack. 

He figures out your routine is just that - a routine. Very plain in every sense of the word, but easy to follow, easy to plan around. 

So it’s no surprise to him when you leave that same grocery store, items balanced meticulously in hand while saying something to the clerk who knows you by name. Without a second thought, Gojo pushes himself away from the wall he had been watching you from, head held high as he walked forward with mock intent to enter the same shop and oops - 

He’s knocked everything out of your hands! 

And consequently, has knocked you down as well. You’re quick to apologize, despite being the one to take the brunt of impact, and go to gather your items as quickly as you can. Gojo crouches to assist you, waving off your apology hastily. 

“No, no, no need to apologize. I wasn’t paying attention.” He ends with a hum, picking up a now bruised apple that rolled out of your bag and offering it to you. 

Here, he can see your face up close, and he takes in every little detail from behind his sunglasses. You finally look up at him as you take the apple from his hand, giving a small smile that makes something in his chest twist. 

“Thanks.” You shove the fruit back into your bag and Gojo offers his hand as he stands up, which you take gratefully. He grips your hand for a second longer than necessary, before letting his own drop back to his side, chin up and head tilting slightly as if he’s really thinking about something. 

“Say, do I know you? Ya look familiar.” 

Your own head tilts in mock of his, eyes scanning his face and figure before your lower lip juts out and you shake your head, “No, I don’t think so. What’s your name?” 

His eyes narrow from behind his dark lenses, though he offers you his hand, “Gojo Satoru.” You shake it with an apologetic smile. 

“Yeah, no, I don’t recognize that. (l/n) (y/n).”

He drops your hand for a second time with a hum, “You must have one of those faces.” 

You shrug, smile ever-growing at him and he wonders if the sun could ever be as blinding in comparison. “It was nice to meet you, Gojo. Sorry again for running into you!” With a final wave, you’re moving past him to go back to your apartment. He knows this because he knows you. He knows you have to go home and start dinner right before your favorite show comes on TV so you can watch it while you eat. Then you’ll clean your kitchen, brush your teeth, and read a chapter from your favorite novel right before bed. 

Somehow, he also knows watching from a distance won't be enough forever. Things still aren't exactly clicking to him. Did you really not remember him? Or were you just saying that? He leaves with the hope of finding out.

iii. living

Gojo doesn’t intend to lose you a second time. He settles this with himself laying awake one night, room dark and mind heavy. If you left for good reason, he’s sure he could accept it. Maybe, with more thought, he could bring you back. Such a selfish hole to spiral down. 

It doesn’t keep him away the next day, already shopping at your frequented store. You come in five minutes earlier than he expects, and to no surprise head straight for the fruits. A perfect apple already in hand, he pretends to look between the selection of remaining apples, head tilting back and forth as he examines ones he knows aren’t nearly as good as the current in his grasp, but putting on a show for no one in particular. 

You step beside him, already giving him that big smile he’d recognize miles away and pick up an apple to examine yourself. 

“Funny running into you again.” You pick up another and compare them with the squeeze test. 

He pretends he’s surprised that you’re suddenly beside him, turning to look at you as if he wasn’t studying you the minute you stepped in the building. 

“Oh, it’s you!” He says after a moment, offering a small smile in return, “Very funny running into you! You wouldn’t believe what I found.” 

He passes you the perfect apple without much thought, not catching your amazed daze at the fruit as he reaches for his wallet to pull out the picture of the three of you and offering that as well. “I couldn’t get such a pretty thing like you outta my head - knew I recognized you from somewhere.” 

You all but gawk at the photo, apple long forgotten as you take in every detail. 

“Is this me?” 

He watches your expression shift from behind sunglasses, unsure what to make of this statement. 

“It is.” He says finally, “Do you . . . you don’t remember?” A small shake of the head is his answer. “This is you,” his arm brushes against yours slightly to point out the obvious, “this is me, and this is Geto. We were all friends back in the day.” 

“You . . . knew me?” Your voice is so small, and Gojo forgets for a moment that the two of you aren’t the only ones in this store, in this reality. 

“I . .. did, yeah.” He looks around and finally takes in the other patrons in the establishment, the workers joking and having a good time and Gojo hates that he’s potentially ruined your week with one photo. “Say, why don’t we get outta here and I tell ya all about it - maybe you can tell me what you’ve been up to, too?” 

It’s like his voice breaks you out of a trance, doe-eyed expression moving from the photo to finally look at him. You offer a small nod, frozen in place for a second longer before giving one more look to the photo and then looking away again. “Sure, that sounds good. D’ya mind me finishing up here? We can go back to mine after and talk?” 

For the first time in forever, you sound hesitant. Unsure. You don’t know what to make of Gojo or of that photo and everything blurs together until you’re stepping foot in your apartment, bags placed on the counter as Gojo enters your home. A silence surrounds you, though it’s not truly unwelcome. For a moment, he can see your discomfort with him - he’s uncertain if it’s because he’s in your space, or if it’s from the new found information. Part of him thinks it’s a mixture of both. 

“Nice place.” He hums absentmindedly, sliding off his shoes with his hands in his pockets, taking in everything as an official guest and not some stranger staring in from the street. 

“Thanks,” you’re moving to keep yourself busy, putting away things and picking up others to make it seem tidier than it currently is, “wasn’t expecting guests, sorry for the mess.” 

Gojo honestly doesn’t feel like anything is out of place - it all feels so homey, so uniquely you that if you told him this is how everything was meant to be, he’d believe you without a seconds hesitation. 

“S’okay, just seems lived in.” He’s careful to not rush in too quickly, not wanting to make you any more anxious than you already are. “Nothing wrong with that.” 

You finally gesture towards the living room, grabbing waters from your fridge and passing him one as you sit on the couch. He takes this as an invitation to sit as well, keeping his distance while you tuck your legs under you with them crossed. He opens his mouth to start, but you beat him to speaking while openly staring at him. 

“What’s with the sunglasses? I don’t think I’ve seen you take them off . . . well, ever.” 

Gojo almost wants to laugh at the question when you ask. You used to know. Surely this wasn’t all an act, right? 

“Light sensitivity,” he says simply with a shrug. A silence falls over you again, and you relish in it while looking around your apartment. “What kind of questions do you have?” He asks finally, deciding someone has to break the silence and he seems to be the one with less anxieties. 

You suck in a breath, meeting his gaze and then looking away. 

“Who . . . How do I know you?” 

You know he’s already explained it to you, but it seems just partial. Clearly, there’s more. Other things, whatever they may be, are missing. 

“We went to high school together,” he leans into the couch, arm slinging over the back, “you, Geto, and I were really close friends.” 

“Were?” You parrot, practically begging for more than the small crumbs he’s provided you with. 

“Were,” he repeats simply, “you disappeared one day after-” flashes of you falling from the building come to mind, “after school one day. We never saw you again.” 

“Oh.” You say quietly. “Did anyone . . . look for me?”

“Yeah,” he feels his chest tighten, Geto falling to his knees and digging desperately, “never found anything. It’s almost shocking to see you here now, honestly.” 

When he finally looks back over to you, you’re staring holes into the floor. 

“I woke up in a hospital a couple years ago,” you say without being prompted, “I didn’t . . . Couldn’t remember who I was or what happened. The doctors told me there was an earthquake in the area and an older couple found me in the rubble of a destroyed building . . . I never . . .” 

“Never got your memory back?” Gojo finishes for you, taking in how much you struggled to talk about this. You shake your head. 

“Not fully. Eventually I remembered who I was, I guess, but not really anything else. There wasn’t any record of me anywhere so I was basically . . . I dunno, a nobody. Started from scratch.” 

He watches you intently, trying to decide if this is really all true. You have no reason to lie to him, right? This couldn’t all be some ploy?  

“Can I see the picture again?” You ask so softly that Gojo doesn’t think he could ever deny you. He pulls the photo out of his pocket and gently passes it to you. You stare at it, taking in every detail like it’s the first time you’re seeing it again. “Who did you say this other person was, again?”

“Geto,” he hums, “he was one of our closest friends.” 

“Was?” Your eyes shift from the picture to him. 

He nods, “He and I sort of fell out, after a while. We don’t really talk anymore.” 

You nod in return, seeming to understand. Silence washes over the two of you again, and Gojo makes no move to change it this time. 

The two of you spend the next few hours trading questions between each other - you asking Gojo how things were in the past, and Gojo returning with how things are in the present. He learns you’re a school teacher at a local elementary school (and you love all of your students with your entire being), that you are still the kind hearted person he remembers you once were (how you go out of your way for others is admirable), and that you were thinking about getting a new pet (but you’re unsure if you’d be able to give them proper attention). 

He leaves with more than one of his questions answered, and with an invitation to come back around anytime on your tongue as he walks out of the apartment. He knows the offer is something he will take to heart. 

iv. memory

Knowing what you do now feels . . . weird. Gojo has made it a point to drop by every now and then, a ‘healthy check-in’ he likes to call it, but you suspect he just wants to rebuild whatever bond you’ve lost from the past few years. You don’t mind, honestly, happy to reconnect. 

He happily talks about your past, retelling memories in hopes of maybe bringing something back, but it never does. He avoids talking about Geto (you suspect it was a bad falling out) and you don’t pressure him to speak about the male.

No one could imagine your surprise when you see the enigma walking around the streets on one of your days off. 

He holds himself high, a confident aura surrounding him so thick you freeze when he passes you. You’ve never been one to be so direct, stunning even yourself when you turn on your heel and tap his shoulder gently. He makes it no urgency to face you, posture unchanging as he takes you in. 

He eyes you up and down, and you almost wonder for a second if maybe he isn’t who you thought you were. The picture you’re basing his looks on is what, 15 years old? Should you really be betting the entirety of introducing yourself on that? 

“Something I can help you with?” He asks, voice much softer than you expect it to be. 

It pulls you out of your own stunned silence, blinking at him, “You’re Geto right?” You almost cross your fingers he says anything but no. 

“I am, who are you?” 

You breathe a small sigh of relief, shoulders visibly relaxing. 

“I’m (l/n) - (l/n) (y/n), I knew you looked familiar.” You don’t see how his eyes widen slightly, too distracted by your own excitement to notice. “Gojo has been telling me about how we used to know each other, it’s crazy you’re here right now!” 

“(l/n)?” He repeats, still taking in everything that is you. “Haven’t heard from you in a while . . .” You were supposed to be dead. 

The thought weighs heavy in his mind, and he wonders for a moment if maybe this is some cruel trick by a curse. Maybe this is God punishing him for any of his wrong doings. 

He doesn’t realize you were talking to him until you’re tilting your head at him expectantly, waiting for a reply. 

“Sorry,” he waves apologetically, “I spaced out. This is just quite the surprise.” 

“It’s alright,” you offer a smile, “I was asking if you’d like to catch up? If you’re not busy, of course.” You add quickly, not wanting to suddenly take up his day if he already had plans. 

The curses at his side voice their concerns, their need to talk strategy and plan, but Geto returns your smile and gestures to a nearby cafe, “I have some time.” 

You don’t realize how nervous you are until you’re sitting down with your drink, Geto sitting across from you with a smile that you don’t think has left his face since you got his attention. 

“So,” he starts after taking a sip of his drink, “where have you been all these years?”

[nostalgiclittlespace]

your post on regression grief hit me hard. i recently had a moment where for a couple hours i so vividly went back to when i was a kid, when it was the spring leading into summer during middle school and we all gathered in the open grassy field and played games. music played. the smell of the season was full of joy. ive been having more and more moments like this. the older i get and the more trauma i endure, the more i find myself having moments where i regress and cling to my tiger plushie and find myself talking a certain way. i go back to reliving these memories and its so comforting and simple.

Regressing is entirely new to me. i was told its something bad and “problematic”, so i was really scared when i started to put two and two together. do you have any advice for someone newly discovering this part of themself? (i know this is a heavy question so its okay if you dont!!)

Hi, friend ❤️❤️❤️ First of all, I have the impulse to say that I’m sorry for all the stress you’re under. While regression can be a very joyful thing, the side of it you usually see on the internet, it can also be that crushing, confusing grief. I hope some of what I’ll say can help.

First, I completely understand where you’re coming from. For me personally, regression is revisiting childhood because adulthood is hard and being a kid is just so much easier. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only safe place. Those memories are precious, and they are happy. (Some of my favorites are when I remember playing with my siblings, running around my backyard. Those were my favorite days)

My first piece of advice is that it’s okay to cling onto those memories and regress with them. It’s okay to have that bittersweet sting as you remember how simple life used to be. No matter who you are and what your situation is growing up is it’s own kind of trauma—suddenly being faced with responsibility and work, when it seemed only yesterday we didn’t have to worry about a thing. So, it’d natural to miss those easy times, and to wish for the, back. If that make you regress, then that’s okay.

I am actually fairly new to regression as well. I started trying age dreaming a year or so ago to try and cope with stress (with moderate success), but it wasn’t until the past few months that I’ve actually started to do regress routinely and consider myself a member of the community. I will admit that before I framed my regression negatively. I felt almost ashamed of myself for not handling my stress in a “typical fashion”. Which brings me to my next piece of advice. There is nothing wrong with regression. If you’ve been on this side of the Internet for long enough, I’m sure you’ve heard it before, but I’m saying it again. Age regression is completely okay, it is a valid coping mechanism.It takes time to let go of those negative outlooks and preconceptions (believe me, I know) But you have Avery supportive, kind, and fun community agere, and we’d all be happy to help you however we can.

For me, the best way to get comfortable with regressing was to take baby steps. It doesn’t have to be grand gestures like decorating your bedroom as a nursery (tho if that’ll make you more comfortable, then go for it!) personally, I started small. Watching Disney movies. Sleeping with a stuffed animal every night. Coloring with crayons and coloring books instead of my fancy colored pencils. Eventually, it became natural.

However I would also like to point out that not all regression is sunshine and rainbows (unfortunately.). It’s also that space where we recognize our trauma through a child’s perspective, and that’s hard. It’s okay and normal for regression to be difficult or painful.

Nonetheless, it’s important to take care of those feelings. remember that you deserve this safe place.

I think the most important thing I can say is to indulge in it. Your mind will thank you. Personally, I’ve honestly been handling life so much better, recalling lost childhood memories I would have forgotten about, and just generally feeling happier since I’ve allowed myself to regress when I need to.

I hope some of this was helpful. Sorry if it was a bit scatterbrained. If I think of anything else, I’ll edit this later. And If you need anything else, whether to ask some more questions or just need a listening ear, I’m always available! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Lots of love to you, friend, sending lots of warm, happy vibes your way

-Marty 💙

[geekywritings]

“You see me... for me.”

I got a lovely request from @christinaatyourservice92​ for a Cal Kestis x reader story. So here we go :D

You are a shy cartographer with a love for art, having travelled with Cal and the Mantis crew for quite a while now. Your feelings for the red-haired Jedi are a secret you have kept tightly, just as the little collection of sketches you have of him. Well, time for some secrets to be revealed. 

(If you also wanna send me requests and prompts, please do! I’m always happy to read them!)

____________

You all had different reasons for being part of the crew, but what brought you all together, made you a family almost, was the shared hope for a better future. You were all fighting an overly powerful enemy for a slither of a chance to live a normal life, each in your own way.

To be fair, Cal was doing most of the fighting. You weren’t a bad shot, but your talents lay elsewhere. You wanted to map out all the planets of the Outer-Rim, especially those the Empire had not completely overrun yet. Until then, you also put your talents to good use to forge maps for the rebel alliance, highlighting safe routes and the locations of enemy bases on the various planets the Mantis crew visited. A small job, some would argue, but nevertheless vital.

Four years had passed since you literally ran into Cal Kestis on Nar Shadaa, both of you trying to outrun some Stormtroopers, albeit for different offenses. Your knowledge of the intricate underground tunnels of the capital city had saved both your lives and the Jedi had offered you a place on the Mantis without hesitation in gratitude. Apparently, the ship’s doors were open to anyone willing to help.

After living and working alone for almost all your life, being part of a crew was difficult to get used to. Especially since you weren’t exactly an extrovert. Lucky for you, most of the crew wasn’t either. Cere always respected your privacy, almost as if sensing when you needed to retreat and Merrin herself seemed to prefer solitude a lot of times. Greeze was often trying to get you to loosen up with varying degrees of success, but even he never pushed too far.

And then there was Cal. Friendly, gentle and understanding Cal Kestis. He did his best to make you feel at home, testing the waters with each careful word and gesture. Especially at the beginning, he was fumbling with words as much as you were. But unlike you, he had grown more confident in the last few years. You were still a blushing mess when he spoke in that special low tone of his or placed a hand on your shoulder.

Not because you were still nervous… but because the Jedi had managed to work himself into your heart. You admired him for his optimism and drive, shared his hopes for a better future, and trusted him completely. And you were pining for him. Badly. So much so that even Merrin remarked on it one evening, asking why you didn’t say anything.

But you couldn’t. You knew little of the Jedi Order, having grown up in a very rural setting on a Mid-Rim planet, but you did know that love was forbidden for its members. Cal was still following the old lifestyle in many ways and you just assumed he would turn you down because of it.

So months went by and you soaked up every kind word and gesture, as if they were water in a desert, trying to convince yourself that it was enough. Eventually, you found another way to wrangle your emotions back into place: drawing.

Although your cartography skills were almost unmatched, you also had a talent for sketching. Landscapes, creatures and even people filled the pages of the small notebook that was constantly attached to your belt. Recently, however, your fingers automatically traced the features of only one person over and over again.

The new notebook you had started was full of Cal Kestis only. Pensive looking, determined, calm and smiling. You tried to catch every expression possible, burning it into your memory to then bring it back to life on the slightly yellow paper. It was your secret. Or at least had been… until now.

You had landed on a desert planet in the Outer-Rim to refuel and the crew had split up for provisions. Cere accompanied Greeze to find a spare part for the Mantis and replenish your food rations, while Merrin decided to explore the area. It left Cal and you alone on the ship with the task of cleaning up a bit.

“Why do we always get cleaning duty?”, the Jedi grumbled, as he collected the dishes from your last meal off the table, bringing them over to you at the sink.

“Maybe because we are good at it?”, you offered, unable to think of anything cleverer to say.

Cal raised an eyebrow at you, standing so close that your shoulders were touching. “I think you highly overestimate us.”, he replied with a tiny smile.

While you took care of the dishes, Cal busied himself with picking up the various items flying all over the living room area. At least five people shared this space and it showed. Somewhere in the back, you could hear BD-1 and Kip beeping merrily, making you wonder what the droids were up to.

“Y/N?”

The call of your name had you turn, ready to ask what was up, but when you saw Cal with your notebook – your OPEN notebook – you almost dropped the plate you had been holding. He was flicking through the pages, eyes wide in wonder.

Your entire face went hot, the color probably matching the red of his hair, as you watched in horror. Nobody was ever supposed to see these sketches. HE was never supposed to see them.

Stars, he was going to hate you. Or think you some sort of creep. Either way, things would never be the same between you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I was cleaning the table and it fell down.”, he excused himself, obviously noticing your discomfort.

“N-no… I… it’s fine…”, you began to stutter. “I should be the one to say sorry…. Sorry.”

The Jedi raised an eyebrow at you again, coming closer, but still holding the notebook in his hands. “Why? These are good. Certainly better than the Wanted bulletins of me.”

His humor never failed to make you smile, even now, but still. There was a tight knot in your stomach and all you wanted was to grab the notebook and run. Silence fell, as you were unable to find anything to say.

Cal saw the clear discomfort in your eyes, the blush on your cheeks and the nervous fumbling of your hands. Usually, your shy demeanor was cute. Endearing even. But at this very moment, it made him feel guilty for having brought you into this situation.

“Here.”, he said, holding your sketchbook out to you. “Next time you draw a new one, can I see it?”

Your eyes snapped to his, taking in the intense green. How could he be so perfect? Didn’t he know how hard it was to stop falling for him more and more? Was it even possible to love him more than you already did?

“Y-yes… sure…”, you said slowly, reaching for the item, fingers brushing against Cal’s in the process.

“I am honored that you pick me as your model.”, he continued. “Though I am not sure how I deserve the privilege.”

“You’re fascinating.”, you blurt before you can stop yourself. Oh stars, what have you done? Cal’s asking you silently to elaborate, while your fumbling hands are turning your sketchbook round and round, as you try to hold the man’s gaze.

“Your face… it’s handsome… and it reflects so many emotions in different ways. Your jaw clenches when you are concentrating. And your lip twitches upwards ever so slightly when you have a good hand while playing cards. And…” As if a dam had broken, you kept going on and on, revealing more tiny details that nobody but you had probably noticed.

“I-I… I just wanted to memorize them all.”

Cal was overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. People usually saw the Jedi in him. The survivor. The traitor if you asked on the other side. But you… you saw him. Every detail of him, inside and out. He saw you too, even though you preferred to blend into the shadows. You were quiet, but your actions spoke volumes. You were shy, often fumbling with words and he saw much of his younger self in that. Most of all, you were warm. Not in the physical sense, but emotionally. Your presence settled around him like a blanket, offering comfort and calmness. No matter how hard a fight had been, with you close, Cal could always ground himself again.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“For what?”, you asked, confused. This wasn’t the reaction you had anticipated after your awkward monologue.

“For being you. For seeing me…as me.” He had stepped even closer, barely leaving any distance between you now. Your hands suddenly stilled and you looked down to see why. He had grasped them in his, holding them gently, but firmly.

Slowly, your gaze wandered back to his face, being rewarded with an expression you had not seen before. His eyes were locked to you, as if searching for something. He looked both hesitant and determined and you noticed his lips parting and closing several times, as if he tried and failed to find the right thing to say.

“Listen, Y/N…”, he finally did begin, his grip around your hands tightening ever so slightly. “I have been thinking…” Again a pause, trying to sort himself. “The Order is gone… and while I respect Cere’s mission to rebuild it… I am not sure if I can be a part of it anymore…”

Where was he going with this? And why tell you?

“So much has happened… I don’t think I can call myself Jedi anymore.”

Your lips parted to protest, but you didn’t get a chance to even begin, as Cal continued.

“A lot of the Order’s rules don’t feel right anymore… I… I think I know what I want now.”

Slowly, one of his hands came up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “I’ve been thinking a lot… about you.”

This confession sucked the air right out your lungs and you felt your heart clench in the best way possible. Was this really happening? Had you heard correctly? Or was this a dream and you’d find yourself waking up in the cabin you shared with Merrin?

No, the feeling of your hand in his and the soft brush of his fingers against your cheek was real.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same… But after seeing the sketchbook…”

“I love you.”, you blurted right between whatever kind of confession he was trying to get out. The words had tumbled out without your permission and instantly you lowered your head to hide the blush that had certainly intensified a thousandfold.

Seconds ticked by and you wondered if the admission of your feelings had been too much. Fingers under your chin turned your face upward again. You were hesitant to look at him, but he didn’t leave you the chance anyway. Instead, Cal leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.

Slowly, and gently at first. Again, testing the waters with you and going only as far as you were comfortable. It was the sweetest sensation you had ever felt. The sketchbook fell to the ground again, as your hands came to grasp his blue vest instead, while his arms pulled you closer against his form.

How long did you stand there, lips locking over and over again, finally giving way to the longing you had both felt?

“I love you too…”, Cal finally voiced what the kiss had already made perfectly clear. You would remember that look in his eyes forever. So full of love and happiness. The next moment you got, you’d have to immortalize it in your little sketchbook again.

“That’s… That’s not what I expected.”, you admitted shyly.

“I didn’t see it coming either… but life has a funny way of taking unexpected turns… And I am glad to follow this new path with you. If you will have me.”

Of course, you would have him! And to prove it you rose to your toes again for another kiss, absolutely ready for a new kind of territory to chart together with him.

[admrlthundrbolt]

Electric Love (Guzma x Chubby Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say that Guzma hated you would be a lie, but he wasn't going to tell you that. It also didn't help that you were Nanu's granddaughter and deputy. Guess he'll just have to be content with being your rival.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys, I'm back at it again. I may have been watching some pokemon play throughs recently. So I was inspired to write for my favorite boneheaded thug bug trainer. It came out a bit more angsty than anticipated. Anywho hope you enjoy.

---------------------------------------------------------

Growing up together you were inseparable. Both of you wanting to escape your families. You from the pressure that they placed on you. Him from the abuse of his father. It was a wonderful friendship. Until you drifted apart that is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Joltik set out it's final discharge you waited with held breath. Golisopod stood for one moment then two, but on the third he fell forward. Causing you to cheer and run to scoop your pokemon into a hug.

Guzma huffed and returned the large bug to it's ball. Glancing your way, he had a memory of a time when he would cheer with you. Though your next comment soured the thought.

“The bug king himself getting taken down by a cute little spider.” Your gloating was short lived as you noticed the scowl on his face. “Hey now, don’t beat yourself up to bad. It was just a friendly match afterall.”

While what you said was true, that didn’t make the loss sting any less. “Whatever, at least I’m not handed my pokemon.” He slumped a bit more at the jab.

You reeled at the accusation. “Hey asshole, I traded for my Joltik. It’s not my fault that you’re so stuck in your little pity party that you don’t seek out new horizons.” Clutching your beloved arachnid closer, you bristled further. “We're not kids anymore Guzma, you can choose your own path.”

He let out a bitter cackle at that. “Ya’ know, that rich coming from you.” He stepped forward and leaned into your face. “Consider'n how much of a choice you’ve had in your life. Isn’t that right, Deputy.” As the final word left his lips, he felt a stinging pain on his cheek.

He watched as you yanked your hand back. Tears welled in your eyes as your hand started reaching back towards him. Then you returned Joltik to its pokeball and darted away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hearing the front door open, Nanu looked up from the paperwork he had been occupied with. He went to greet you, but didn't have a chance. You sprinted through the house and to your room.

Thinking of a way to help and get you in a talking mood. He made his way to the kitchen. What better way to show his gratitude for his granddaughter housing him than some homemade hot chocolate.

A soft knock sounded from your door, startling you from your brooding. “I got some hot chocolate, if your interested that is.”

Heaving yourself off the bed, you opened the door. Without looking at him, hoping he wouldn't notice your puffy eyes, you held a hand out. “Thank you.” When he didn't give you the mug, you chanced a glance at him.

His brow was furrowed, while the rest of his features were soft. “Actually, I’d like to come in.”

Knowing this expression, even if you hadn’t seen it much in your life. You nodded and made your way back over to the bed, sitting down.

Bringing the drink to you, he sat near by on the bed. “So, what happened?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, you thought of how to put it. Your grandpa knew you had a rocky relationship with Guzma. But it always hurt to talk about just how far you had drifted apart. Other than the occasional battle, each of you trying to one up the other. There wasn't much interaction between the two of you. Deciding that the weight in your chest was only making you depressed, you said. “I had a battle with Guzma.”

With a nod, he sipped from his own mug. “I thought so. Do you want to tell me about it?”

At his offer words started tumbling out of your mouth. The excitement of winning, with a bug type pokemon to boot. The conversation that followed, going from taunting to insulting. Leading into the slap. When describing it, you eyes began to water once more. “I just don’t understand why things can’t be like they used to.” Sniffing, you rubbed at your eyes.

He hated seeing you so upset. Especially over a punk like Guzma. But he also knew how you felt. And from what he had heard around the island, the feeling was mutual. You were both just to stubborn to realize it. Putting an arm around you, he tucked you into his shoulder. “Your not kids anymore, even if you still act like it sometimes.” He smiled at your chuckle. “But have you ever had a conversation with him about how you feel.” When you made a noise of protest he said. “That didn't start with a pokemon battle?”

You took a moment to ponder that. “To be honest no.”

He gave you a quick side hug and stood. Walking out the door he threw one more bit of advice over his shoulder. “Then maybe that's where to start.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stomping into the hideout kitchen, he throws the freezer open. While looking for a bag of peas or something, he was started by a sudden cough. Trying to hide his red cheek, by turning the other half of his face, he saw Plumeria.

She scowled at him. “Any reason why you’re making so much noise.” Even though it was an accusation, she was concerned. He may be a bit of an idiot and a thug. But he took her in and was like a brother to her.

Grunting he turned back to the freezer. Mentally cheering when he found a random bag of veggies. Placing it against his face, while trying not to whince, you were stronger than he gave credit for. Ever since you were kids, he always considered you a marshmallow, soft and harmless. But with the power you could put behind a slap, he had a new perspective on your strength. Still as he slumped in a near by chair, he couldn't help but day dream about your figure.

You had never quite grew out of your chubby cheeks. That being said, you did fill out in a major way.

“zma, Guzma!”

“Huh?” He sent a dazed look her way, realizing that she was calling out to him.

She shook her head in exasperation. “What happened? You come back stomping around and putting frozen carrots on your face. Then you act like you can’t even hear me." Crossing her arms, she impatiently waited for an explanation.

Throwing his head back, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had a battle with (Y/N).”

“Pokemon or physical, because from the looks of things it was worse than usual.” She wanted to scream at him for being so stubborn. They were the definition of opposites attract. If they could just realize that they’re making things harder on themselves and confess. Things would work out so much better.

Instead she got to listen to his recounting of the altercation. Of course he would lash out and not expect there to be consequences. “Have you ever thought of just saying good job and moving on from the battle. Maybe even having a conversation that doesn't involve pokemon.”

He shook his head. “It’s gotten to the point that a battle is the only way we can talk.”

“Then why don’t you find her after leaving your pokemon behind? Look I know that a lot has changed, but you used to be a huge part of each other’s lives. Wouldn't it be nice to have some of that back?”

With shoulders sagging more than usual, he tossed the carrots back in the freezer. “I’ll think about it. Thanks Plum.” Then made his way to repay the interaction in bed. He really was an idiot sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until about a week later that you saw each other again. Running into each other at a small Cafe. He was already seated at a small booth. You hesitated when you spotted him, but steeled your nerves and sat in front of him.

His head darted towards you, an annoyed insult on his lips. Just who thought they could intrude on his time. Seeing it was you, made the words catch in his throat.

Your face flushed a bit at the look he gave you. “I’m sorry.”

Brow furrowing at the sudden apology, he said. “Uh, what?”

You placed down the drink and cake you had ordered. “I’m sorry, for hitting you. I lashed out instead of talking things through. It was childish of me.” Pushing the cake his way, you waited.

Narrowing his eyes at the treat he sighed. “Nah I was be'n a jerk.” He slid the cake back towards you. “Besides I’m not into sweets.”

A laugh burst from you. “Guz, do you not remember when you ate half the cupcakes at your tenth birthday. You were so sick that night.”

He smiled, happy to hear your laugh again. “Hey, that was your fault. If you hadn’t dared me it wouldn't have happened.” Waiving over a waiter, he asked for another fork. “Let’s just share.”

As you shared the cake and stories from your childhood, smiles beamed on your faces. Neither of you thought of battle in this moment. Only enjoying the time that you were spending together.

As the light became dimmer in the window you were seated by, you checked your watch. “It’s almost dinner time. I should get going.” Both satnding, you took a chance. Stepping forward you gave him a hug. “I had a really nice time today.”

Startled it took him a moment to hug you back. But as his arms surrounded you, he couldn't help thinking about how right it felt. Separating, as much as he didn't want to, he gazed down at you. “Me too. Would you want to do it again sometime?” He worried at how fast his heart was beating. Almost like it wanted to leap from his chest.

“Absolutely, you free this weekend?”

It wouldn't matter, he would clear anything off his schedule to spend time with you. “Yeah, what were you thinking?”

When you parted ways, Plumeria and Nanu knew something had happened. There was no other reason for the love sick smiles that wouldn’t leave your faces.

[beautouslysandy]

reliving those memories we made

i hate him for taking him away from me….sequel

by- sandy

dallas winston x gn!reader

warnings: lowercase intended, happy ending, language

request- I read the sequel to "No Explanation..." and I just NEED a part 3 with a happy ending 😭😭😭 also I love love love your works 😍

word count- 1,386

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

reliving memories is one of the things in life that lead to different outcomes. different people…different memories….different emotions. however with him, there was a universe full of emotions. the most current memories are causing pain. he yet again left you, just with an explanation this time. you were in the kitchen helping your mom with dinner, you guys were making steak and mashed potatoes. you mom had her own little dinner on the north side, it’s called ‘jolene’s eats’. its one of your favorite places in the world, it’s very retro and well your mom. your little sister was in her room doing something that a girly nine year old would do. “so have you talked to dallas recently?” your mom asked with concern as she mashed the potatoes

“not since he came over here when you and avery (your younger sister) were gone…” you say with a sad sigh as you check the steaks in the oven

“hmm, i am sorry babes. breaks up stink.” she says this looking you in the eyes sympathetically

you chuckle sadly and say “yeah this one specifically…”

“maybe he will come around, you never know with those boys.” she comforts with a small smile

you nodded, your front door echoes a knock. you both look at eachother and your mom shrugs as she wasn’t expecting anyone. “avery love, we’re you expecting someone?” your mom calls to your little sister

“nuh uh.” she calls back, it sounds a tad bit muffled due to her yelling through a closed door.

“i’ll will see who it is.” you say and your mom replied with a nod. you feel that hope arise, the same one the day he came over and explained. before you knew it you opened the door to reveal sodapop and johnny…odd combo.

“hey y/n!” sodapop says cheerful as he pulls you into an unexpected hug. you chuckle wholeheartedly, the first time in a while, “hey soda!”

“we miss you!” soda says pulling out of the hug with johnny awkwardly behind him

“same here….hey johnny.” you say with a small smile

“hey y/n” he says with a soft smile

“who is it, babes?” your mom calls from the kitchen

“sodapop and johnny!” you call back

you see your mom step out of the kitchen and wave “hey boys! how are you?” she says and greets them with a comforting and maternal smile

“good!” they both say and soda adds “how about you, ms. l/n?”

“great, honey! thanks!” she says this as she heads back into the kitchen.

“so what brings you by?” you ask with confusion to the unexpected vist

“dallas.” johnny says with a sigh

your eyes widened, “what about him?” you reply with a forced small smile

his name makes your heart hurt…everytime.

“he is miserable without you, like insanely miserable.” sodapop says with a sad smile

“same here.” you say impulsively

“told you.” johnny whispers

“…anyways we were wondering if ohh could come over….maybe rekindle?” sodapop says with a spark of hope in his voice

“i tried and either way he ended it.” you say looking at sodapop with wide eyes

“huh….odd.” sodapop said, clearly thinking that you broke up with him

“i could try…maybe after dinner?” you say feeing bad for some reason

“that would be great! you know where we are, just give us a call first! thanks y/n!” he says with that silly cheerful smile of his.

why couldn’t you like a sweet sensible guy like sodapop? why the cold hearted jerk? no. he isn’t that, he is just like that now?

you nod as they walk away.

••• with sodapop and johnny.

“that went well!” sodapop says as he walks down the sidewalk

“sure. if that’s your definition of well.” he says, he feels angry for some reason.

“what’s the sarcasm for, johnny? i thought you would be happy?” he says looking at johnny bewildered by his sarcasm

“they felt forced to come over…that’s what it is for. they shouldn’t have to make dallas get back to together with them. if anything it should be the other way around. what he did was shitty, really shitty.” johnny says this with a sigh, he was super mad at dallas for doing this, he saw you as a mom. someone who always knew would be there. someone he could confide in. but not anymore, thanks to dallas.

“yeah but…they are still coming over?” sodapop says as he opens the front door to the curtis household.

“who?” darry asked, raising his brow at the two boys

“uhhh….” johnny said

“joe.” sodapop says quickly, none of boys knew what they had just done.

“hmm. joe? who the hell is that?” dallas says with a cold scoul, that’s his only expression recently.

“somebody important.” johnny said, glaring at dallas

“okay!” ponyboy says, not wanting drama between the two boys

“have you talked to y/n recently, dally?” two-bit asked

“no. i don’t care about her.” he lies

“sure man. sure.” steve says looking at dallas with suspicion

“whatever man.” he groans with a grim face

••• you are on the curtis’s porch and debating whether or not to knock. you take a deep breath and decide to knock immediately regretting it when the door opens. then appears a shocked darry.

“hey joe.” he says with a smirk.

you look behind you and that makes darry laugh. you smile. “hey.” you say in your best deep masculine voice.

out of all the boys, darry and johnny were the two you most connected with. you say them as brothers. “what brings you by, joe?” he says with a smile and chuckle, clearly not wanting dallas to know.

you hand him a letter and say “nothing but this, bye darry.” you say with your sweet smile and run to your house before dallas can recognize your voice.

the door closes and darry hands the letter to dallas, who instantly recognizes your handwriting and opens it.

dal,

hey it’s me, i know i know we talked about us but i didn’t get to talk. you mean so much to me and this pains me so much. i wake up crying…..just because you don’t have self esteem it doesn’t mean you get to drop me like i am nothing. you hurt me and i may never get to forgive you but i can get over it. two boys came over (don’t mess with them) and we talked. i was supposed to come inside but i thought a letter might be more appropriate. now i am not going to come a beg for you back (even thought that’s what i want to do), my mom made a good point…you broke up with me which means you need to come back and beg for me

sure you thought your choice through but i don’t think it was the right one….if you want to talk…i am here

lots of love,

your doll

he takes a deep breath as he closes the letter and then runs out to catch up with you who didn’t get to far.

“doll?” he says with a few breaths

you turn and are faced with him, who is super close.

“dal…what are you-“ you begin but are cut off by one of his soft yet passionate kisses

“i got your letter, and i think i made the wrong choice….i need you in my life…i am miserable without you. just miserable.” he says with a whine

“i heard.” you tease with a smirk

he groans “soda? i don’t even have to ask.”

you giggle at the usual sarcastic and tough tall brunette now confessing how miserable he is without you.

“please, doll…let me be yours again. i will never leave your side, again. please be mine.” he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing your nose.

“i have to think abo-“

he kisses you again, and whines like a child. “please, doll. please.” “okay okay, since you asked so nicely.” you giggle at the sight of your brunette.

“good.” he says as he kisses you for a longer and more passionate kiss.

he rests his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. you feel at peace and he feels all warm inside.

everything is right. no more need to relive those memories we made, when we can make new ones.

[ferallove-for-tx2]

𝐌𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭

ℛℰ𝒬𝒰ℰ𝒮𝒯ℰ𝒟

Recently, you have noticed your husband, Muzan, was extremely stressed and snappy the last couple of days. You knew he had things to do since he was the King of Demons, some of it you could not understand but you still felt bad for him. He was also being a little harsh to you recently but you knew that he did not mean a lot of it.

 Your anniversary was coming up and you wanted to get him something extra special to cheer him up, the bad news was that you didn’t know what he would want. You attempted to brainstorm ideas but when you finally got one, another thought or fact would immediately shoot it down and you would return back to square one. Some of the gifts you wanted to get for him were things he wouldn’t be able to use since he was a demon and not allowed in the sun.

You deeply sighed and laid your head onto your desk, what were you going to do now? You didn’t know if there was anything Muzan even wanted or if he already had what he wanted. All this brainstorming was beginning to hurt your head greatly and it did not feel great. You decided to take a walk around the Infinity Castle to ease your pounding headache, maybe something will inspire you. 

You walked through the long halls while slightly dragging your hand across the walls and humming. You were familiar with the layout of the Infinity Castle but there was always another hallway or set of rooms that you never knew existed. After walking for a couple of minutes, you then heard light chatter and easily recognized your husband's voice.

“What do you mean you haven’t found it?!”

“S-sorry master but there is no sign of it anywhere! We’ve checked far and wide in every forest and garden but they are nowhere!”

You were curious about what they were talking about, what was he trying to find?

“I need that blue spider lily!”

Again with those flowers? You always heard him attempting to locate the flowers but you never told him where they are due to his recent behavior but since they were the only thing you could think of for a gift, you decided to get them for him.

You sneaked away quietly and left the Infinity Castle to go look for the flowers. After almost two hours of walking, you were exhausted but you did not stop walking until you reached the cemetery where they grew.

The sun was falling which meant you had to grab them quickly before the wilt, they only grew during the daylight so this meant that you only had one chance. The familiar setting of the cemetery brought back memories of your childhood.

You remember your mother bringing you here to grieve lost loved ones and you would always see these blue spider lilies everywhere, that’s how you knew about this place. You picked the best ones and began walking back with exhilaration flowing through you.

 The sun had just fallen and you smiled to yourself, just in time. Once you made it back, you placed the bouquet of blue spider lilies in your kimono and went to search for Muzan.

You walked around, poked your head in a couple rooms but still no sign of Muzan. All of a sudden, you saw a tall shadow towering over you which caused you to turn around. You met two of six red and yellow eyes and saw Kokoshibo standing right behind you staring at you. Muzan introduced you to the UpperMoons to inform them that if they see you around not to harm you so you weren’t worried about Kokoshibo hurting you.

“Oh you scared me, uhm hello Kokoshibo, do you know where Muzan is?”

“He is in his office and apologies for scaring you.”

You shot him a reassuring smile before thanking him and walking to Muzan’s office. Once you arrived at his office, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

You opened the door and when his piercing red eyes met yours, they softened and he smiled at you.

“Hello love, happy anniversary, I’m sorry I couldn’t spend a lot of time with you and that I’ve not been a great lover to you recently.”

You smiled and shook your head before replying.

“Don’t worry, I understand you have duties to take care of, I’m just glad you remember our anniversary.”

“How did I get so lucky with you? But yes it is our anniversary and I have a gift for you.”

He then took out a little box and handed it to you, you opened it and saw a diamond necklace with a small picture of you and Muzan on a heart pendant.

“Wow it’s beautiful, thank you so much!”

You gushed and he chuckled, you dug in your kimono and took out the bouquet of blue spider lilies and held them out to Muzan.

“I got these for you, I overheard you needed them so I went and picked some for you, I hope you like them.”

His mouth was wide open in shock as he took them and stared at them for several seconds. He turned back to you and hugged you tightly.

“Thank you Y/n…thank you so much, I have been searching for these for many years, you really are the best thing that has happened to me.”

He placed a kiss on your forehead and held your hand before looking at you with loving eyes.

“With these, I will be able to conquer the sun and after taking care of necessary business, we can go to that beach you’ve always wanted to go to. Thank you again my love.”

[asarigg]

Hi! I'm so sorry for replying to you so late, I feel like I had so many things to keep track of recently 😣

Oh yeah, his love for traditional aesthetic certainly came from both of his parents. I feel like his father had a traditional house and way of carrying himself bc he was conservative and never really thought about any of it, while his mother actually enjoyed and valued the aesthetics of traditional crafts and materials, she was probably pretty knowledgable about making her own too; It wouldn't suprise me if Koujaku picked up his aesthetic sense and appreciation for beauty from her tbh. I feel like she'd teach him a lot too- I've been looking into the flower-shaped knots on his design for some time now, but it's frustrating how little there is about the details in English 😮‍💨 the closest thing I can find is a mizuhiki plum flower knot, but even then that's not exactly right... I feel like I saw it in so many other games or movies and such, it's so annoying that I can't place it better 😮‍💨 however they're called, I think that his mom taught him how to make them 🥺

I never thought about his scrap scene being a representation of his family home! Or rather, I guess I never saw it that way, that this is directly potraying how he saw the building itself; I think I saw it more as a metaphore of his mind, of how deep within him his trauma is hidden, and how he doesn't want anyone to know. That's so clever! 🤩 I think that the dragon was supposed to represent Ryuho, right? Since he has a dragon motif. Just another way how he permanently imprinted himself on Koujaku's mind, that his symbol is woven into the very walls 😔 I honestly kinda hc that Ryuho isn't even this dude's real name lol, I think it's an artistic pseudonym he chose bc it gives him a dragon theme 😭

Oh yeah, speaking of Koujaku being from the countryside! When I was listening to the CD drama, I've noticed that Koujaku said something about how he used to come to the inn he and Aoba were staying at with his mom... That's so cute... Like you know that these were some of the best memories of his childhood, he got to run around the building, play outside, catch bugs, and just enjoy being a kid without the opressive atmosphere of the mansion, and his mom was there too, and she was having fun... 😭 And I also bet he really wanted Aoba to be there with him so that they could play together and have fun, and who would've expected that they'll be back there together after roughly 20 years and everything they both went through 😭 I think that he likes Midorijima, the city has its own charm, but I do think he misses the mountains sometimes and wishes he could just go there whenever 😔

I have a headcanon that his mother named him Koujaku bc she used to watch sparrows in a local park back when she was pregnant with him, and they always manage to cheer her up and take away her worries about the future for a little bit 🥺 and now Koujaku is really fond of them too, he wishes they were easier to spot in Midorijima, but they aren't nearly as common as they were where he comes from 😔 Aoba absentmindedly buys any kind of sparrow-themed bauble he finds in the store as gifts for Koujaku, and he always treats them like they're relics, and not plastic junk that Aoba brings home 😭 and Aoba keeps it a secret, but he has a pen at his desk at Hum-Drum with a little sparrow figurine on the top, just to feel like Koujaku's with him 🥺

Haha, I haven't gotten to the moment where I'd be imagining them as old men yet 😂 but yeah, I can see them moving to the mainland and living in a cozy, traditional house with maples all around 🥺 I feel like they'd both be okay with moving out of Midorijima in the future at some point, just to be closer to nature and retire 🥺

For real it's so bad to search for useful info cuz you get a hundred promoted pages wanting to sell you something only to find little to no information about what you're asking. I found a knot called kiku that seems pretty much what's on Koujaku's neck with the 6 loops. It seems like the tassels would originally decorate helmets of samurai as a good luck charm or something. Likely a variation of a buddhist knot, the endless knot I think it's called, as a representation of Buddha's infinite wisdom.

Fun fact and kind of spoiler but I have a comic where I make him go back to his mother's hometown. Might sound cute but it's full of angst idk when I'll ever work on it because I have art crisis every week 🤓☝ But fr I think he deserves a peaceful life surrounded by nature that brings him good memories

The sparrow pen is so cute 😭😭

Everytime a video of the daily life in the countryside in Japan appears on my feed my brains gets bombed with "kouao kouao kouao kouao" istg this brainrot

[bmodiwrites]

So, our power went out this morning & my s/o and I made a blanket fort by battery light to snuggle under. For some reason, as I drifted off to sleep, this little idea stuck with me. Here's the result of 5AM wanderings...

Slamming the case of his guitar down, Eddie let out a long breath.

After four hours of what could only be called terrible practice, Eddie was glad to have the instrument packed up and out of his sight for a while. Though Corroded Coffin saw some recent success, their attempt at creating new music wasn’t going all that well and everyone knew it.

What should’ve been an easy way to relax after a week of shows turned into bad playing that gave way to silly arguments. In the handful of years they’d been a working, functional band, Eddie hadn’t ever felt so put off by the people around him. They weren’t making music – just a mess.

Lingering behind everyone once Gareth finally tossed in the white flag gave Eddie the opportunity to calm down and come back to Earth. There was no guarantee that he would’ve made it out of the parking lot without punching Jeff across the cheek if they all walked out together. Eddie hated being called out for bad lyricism and Jeff hadn’t held back once he got started. Despite agreeing with him, Eddie’s temper was on a hair trigger, close to going off at any minute. Taking a second to let everyone leave in peace was the only way for the band to stay together.

Even in a fit of red, Eddie understood that.

Once the aggressive need to barrel people over dropped by the way side, Eddie felt able to get on his feet and out the door. On top of not wanting to ruin things with the band, bringing home bad energy was never a good idea. Steve’s ability to read people had only gotten stronger having survived Vecna. Any bad juju immediately put Steve on edge – especially where Eddie was concerned.

Of course, the mere thought of Steve worked wonders in its own right. No matter where Eddie was on the spectrum of freaking out to breaking people’s noses, conjuring up little pictures or memories of Steve always helped to soothe him. Their three year relationship played a huge part in the control Eddie now had over himself. His rambunctious personality and lifestyle was a lot easier to manage when each night didn’t end with a possible arrest.

By the time that Eddie made it out to the parking lot, his mood was a lot lighter. He already forgot most of the turmoil sitting on his chest – the weight there was easily replaced with the scorching flame of something unnamable Steve and Eddie’s feelings for him always brought about. Getting into his car, Eddie almost had a smile on his face.

The drive back to their little shared apartment finished leveling Eddie out – his steps walking to the door were filled with anticipation, not anger and dread. It still blew Eddie’s mind that his heart started to pound harder and harder the closer he got to his place of rest. Coming home, crossing the threshold of a place that still didn’t feel real – it was overwhelming.

Still, Eddie hoped the excitement would never fade. There was something nice about the promise of forever.

Shaking his head, Eddie blinked back to reality just in time to notice the front porch light wasn’t on. He passed Steve’s car in the parking lot on his way in, so his boyfriend had to be home. The confusion of what could be up had Eddie’s brow quirking and his stride hastening. Their apartment was usually a lit beacon shouting the comfort of home into the void. Darkness, after finding out all the scary things that creeped about in it, scared Eddie.

He was quiet as he opened the front door. Whether Steve was out for the count napping or taken hostage by something from the Upside Down, making a lot of noise wasn’t going to help the situation. Having surprise on his side seemed like the only weapon Eddie had at his disposal.

A shaking hand reached down to grab at the chain that dangled from his belt loop. Eddie gripped it hard to stop the noise of it banging against his leg. If push came to shove, he could fling his heavy wallet at an enemy a little easier now.

More surprise to wield. 

Slowly, Eddie walked through the kitchen into the living room. Their tv was eerily off, adding to the blackness of the emptiness. Noticing that Steve’s slumped over form wasn’t on the couch, Eddie let out a breath and continued down the hall.

One by one, Eddie cleared the rooms – upon first glance, nothing was out of the ordinary.

That should’ve made Eddie’s pulse quiet but he still felt on edge. With only one room left to check, Eddie was nervous to peel back the curtain and peek behind it. If Steve was in trouble, the game officially started, the fight was on. It was now or never.

Sucking in a huge breath, Eddie gripped the doorknob of their bedroom until his knuckles turned white. Eddie squeezed harder then, delaying the inevitable that came with flicking his wrist and opening the door.

The squeaky hinge had Eddie holding his breath – he made it through the entire apartment without making any noise, leave it to the final moment to give his position away. No matter how much practice Eddie got being stealth and sneaky and heroic, the end result never matched up to his expectation. When all was said and done, Eddie was just a goof, even fate and the wide universe knew and understood that truth.

A soft groan coming from the bed stopped Eddie’s downward spiral in its tracks. Eddie went on high alert again, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. The darkness of the room made it harder to focus, but Eddie’s eyes eventually got adjusted enough to make out Steve’s body curled up in a ball on the comforter.

Another garbled noise had Eddie dropping his chain in favor of walking to the bed and getting his hands on his obviously suffering boyfriend. All the thoughts of danger dropped to the floor because Eddie recognized Steve’s hands on his head for the very regular, very normal thing that it was.

A bad night for Steve.

Trying not to make too much noise on his approach, Eddie sat down on the edge of the bed. For a second, he merely lingered there, allowing Steve to know he was there without saying anything. Eddie’s heart rate came back down and a sense of peace filtered into the room. Finally, a hand shot out to brush against Eddie’s leg. The touch was fleeting but cue enough for Eddie to move in a little closer.

His hands were feather light when returning Steve’s touch. Eddie scooted across the mattress until his hip was pressed against Steve’s drawn up knees. No stirring to pull away happened, so Eddie continued. Soon, his fingers brushed up Steve’s arm and shoulder, settling on the length of his neck. With the most adorable sigh Eddie had ever heard, Steve pushed back into the touch.

“You okay, babe?” Eddie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Steve pushed back into Eddie’s touch in answer. Speaking, it seemed wasn’t in the cards right now.

“Is it your head?” Eddie questioned as he brushed his fingers into Steve’s hair, tugging the strands gently.

Again, Steve arched into Eddie’s touch but said nothing.

Breathing out an affectionate huff, Eddie needlessly nodded. The darkness made so much sense now.

Eddie lingered in Steve’s space for a few minutes, wordlessly petting him into a stupor. The pained sounds he walked in to hear disappeared into contented hums until Steve seemed to drift off into sleep. When Eddie felt him slump, he pulled his hand away.

“No,” Steve mumbled, his whole body stirring for the first time. “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be back. You need medicine and water. You’ll feel better, Stevie.” Despite all of that being true and Eddie’s counter being sound, they both knew Steve was absolutely going to get his way.

Especially when Steve pulled out the big guns. “I just want you. Hold me – please.”

Sighing, because Steve was gorgeously manipulative and Eddie was absolutely there for it, he tucked his chin to his chest in defeat. “You’re lucky I love you,” Eddie muttered in jest.

He got up as gingerly as he could to toe off his shoes and shrug out of his vest and jacket. The cropped shirt he changed into after sweating his ass off at band practice made his skin prickle in the cool air, but Eddie quickly got over it. Steve was hot to the touch and begging to be snuggled back to normalcy. The chill wouldn’t linger around long.

Walking around to the other side of the bed, Eddie crawled into his usual spot, a feeling of lightness washing over him. It didn’t seem like he’d been close to breaking half of his life apart just half an hour earlier. Everything in him was light and easy enough to carry now. As his hand settled over Steve’s waist, digging into Eddie’s favorite little spot of hair on that flat stomach, contentment threatened to overwhelm him. Emotional whiplash prickled like sparks on his skin.

After a moment of having Steve in his arms, gratitude washed everything else away.

Steve leaned back so beautifully into Eddie, fitting all their joints and curves together. Eddie palmed Steve’s belly while Steve arched into Eddie’s frame like the house cat he truly was. Like puzzle pieces, they wiggled and shifted until they fit together perfectly. Eddie’s earlier thought about a healing touch became more and more real as the minutes went by. Steve calmed down to the point where he started to snore ever so slightly.

The breathy puffs of air meant, at last, Steve was truly asleep.

For a moment, Eddie thought about climbing out of bed to get Steve what he needed, to turn on a few lights in the apartment and get started on dinner. He imagined himself being a responsible adult that took care of his partner with the grace of someone who wasn’t selfish and hooked on the feeling of their bodies melding together. The urge to be that person lingered just long enough for Steve to subconsciously reach down and grip the hand Eddie hand on his belly.

His decision was so easily made.

Settling in, actually relaxing, made Eddie’s own tiredness become obnoxiously apparent. His arms seemed to weigh a ton and all ideas of doing anything but pulling Steve closer were sufficiently buried under comfort and an ease so sweet Eddie forgot about his troubles.

Seconds before Eddie drifted off himself, the fingers tangled with his own squeezed and Steve stirred. “Love you.”

Humming, Eddie leaned his smiling lips into Steve’s neck, pressing a sleepy kiss there. “I love you,” he muttered back, settling into the mattress further.

Sometimes, the universe forced shit to slow down, gave signs of its own. For once, Eddie appreciated the gesture, leaning into it completely.

[skateboardtotheheart]

in every fandom, I see a lot of posts that are always like "if you don't like this character you're wrong" or "you just don't understand them" and seeing those kinds of posts just makes me so frustrated???

most recently I've seen a lot of those posts about the cat king from dead boy detectives (just because it's my latest hyperfixation), and frankly, yeah, I don't really understand. and I will read your entire long post explaining why he's got all these little nuances or subtle tones or genuineness that I missed and I can grow a little more understanding about him. but hey- when I'm done reading your post? unfortunately I still do not like him. I can appreciate him and what he brings to the show, but I just don't like him. it's not because I think he's creepy or gets in the way of a ship or anything most people automatically assume - he's just not my vibe. he simply doesn't fit in the scope of characters I enjoy.

and why is that wrong?? why do I need to be lectured at because of that?? when did fandoms get to a point that people aren't allowed to have differing opinions on a character or dislike a character just because? yes, a lot of the time it is, but it doesn't always need to be deeper than that.

YOU relate to that character on a deeper level, YOU understand their intrinsic motivations, or at least what you perceive them to be, and YOU love that character. fantastic!! I'm happy for you!! enjoying media in a way where you can do that is how it is meant to be!! but in absolutely no universe will everyone ever have the exact same interpretations of a character or piece of media. we all see different aspects of people and relate to things/characters differently. I've been on both sides of things! sometimes my favorite character in a show is someone that everyone else hates or doesn't care for, but I'm okay with that! if they disagree with me, then they disagree with me. I've done the deep dives into why I think the character acts the way they do and taken time to devote myself to better understanding them.

but some people just don't do that. you can be a fan of something without doing that with a character. hell, you can be a fan of something by only ever consuming the source material at its surface level and NEVER going deeper if you do not want to do so. it's allowed.

maybe while you're interpreting a character to have a deeper trauma that results in them acting the way they do, they're reminding someone else of trauma they went through and that character makes them feel bad. maybe you see someone trying to help, but someone else sees it as manipulation. maybe you see someone cold and bitter while someone else sees the kindest person with years of walls built up around them. maybe what someone else interprets as funny, you have never laughed at.

((if we're keeping with the dbd example, think about when the Night Nurse watched Charles' death. what she saw was the quick and utter devotion that Charles developed for Edwin and how deeply he cares for him; she's seeing that Charles will truly not give up in getting Edwin back from hell. what Charles saw was the pure kindness Edwin had done for him even after all those decades in the worst place imaginable; he's seeing who Edwin is on a deeper level. neither interpretations of the memory are incorrect. but after watching the exact same thing, they are thinking in two entirely different directions))

so why does everything seem to start off with "you're wrong" and "I'm sad for you because you just don't get it"? we should be HAPPY that there are people out there who take different approaches and have different interpretations. that is how media is meant to be consumed. and I'm not saying that you shouldn't make your long posts explaining why you love a character- by all means do that!! you understand something that others don't and that should be put out in the world!! but if you're going to do that you also need to understand that there are a lot of people who you WILL persuade, and there are a lot of people who you will NOT. don't be upset about that and certainly do not put down or lecture anyone who doesn't agree with you. it's OKAY. it is not the end of the world just because someone doesn't like a character you like.

everyone interprets media differently. and that's amazing.