#it happened SEVERAL TIMES in one of my fics

[singmyaubade]

Growing Pains

poly!marauders x female!reader

summary: you are in desperate need of a job, and the marauders are in desperate need of a babysitter, what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ | age gap between marauders & reader (not heavily identified) | reader is 21 + | mature language.

author's note: hello everyone! so i have multiple poly!marauder fics going on at this very moment (i know) but this was something that came to me and i thought it would be so cute to write since i never really dip my toes into this kind of normal au's. but please enjoy!

! divers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics !

Being unemployed right out of university was not part of your plan.

You knew that it wasn’t unusual to be unemployed after attending university, but you also had high expectations for yourself.

Originally, you were going to intern at your father’s law firm for a while just to get on your feet, while living in your own studio apartment, which he would pay for—his reward for you ‘stepping up’ straight out of university.

After that, you planned to gain some experience and then be able to work at an actual law firm—not just intern—and pay off your studio apartment on your own.

But, as usual, you and your father had gotten into a blown-out, heated argument about your future. All you had said was that you ‘wanted to do some writing on the side’ during dinner, and everything blew up when he claimed that ‘writing is unreliable and wouldn’t get you anywhere in life,’ which only pissed you off.

It ended with you saying some things you didn’t regret, but maybe should have, and him cutting you off financially, retracting the offer at his law firm.

Instead of groveling, you let your stubbornness take over, storming out and having to find somewhere to live as soon as possible.

Thankfully, your cousin, who had graduated a few years before you, was openly looking for a roommate and wasn’t charging a high rate. You took the offer immediately, but finding a job was a real pain in the ass.

Every place you tried to intern at said you didn’t have enough experience or was in competition with your father’s law firm.

And every place you applied to—whether it was as a barista, waitress, assistant, etc.—rejected you.

For no reason, might you add.

You were growing hopeless and severely depressed. Mary was finding it quite hard to comfort you lately, especially since you were holed up in your room, refusing to leave.

She didn’t even think you went out to use the bathroom.

So eventually, when you came out of your room for your 8 PM coffee, she confronted you.

“Y/N,” She sighed, looking at you as you wrapped yourself in a blanket, dark circles under your eyes. “I love you a lot, but I need you to bloody get it together!”

You groaned. “What do I have to live for if no one will hire me and I’m just unsuccessful?” You sulked. “I mean, I’m going to be living with you until you and Lily have kids!” You screeched, horrified.

Mary looked spooked. “I pray not,” She replied, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in her hands. “You just need to have more faith in yourself—and maybe a little boost,” She said, letting go and sitting on the counter. “Which is why I got you that little boost and got you a job!” She said excitedly, grinning as you looked at her in shock.

“Wait, what?” You responded. “Doing what? And how?” You asked nervously as her grin widened.

“Well, it’s a full-time babysitting gig,” She said happily, swinging her legs.

“So, a nanny?” You asked, sounding a bit deflated.

“Well, unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be living with them, but yeah, kind of,” She said, as you hummed.

“And you know the parents?” You asked hesitantly.

“Oh, like the back of my hand,” She said calmly as if your question was ridiculous.

“I mean, should I text them or anything? Or at least let them get to know me before I start babysitting for them?” You asked nervously.

Mary waved you off. “They’re really chill, they’ll love you,” She said happily as she hopped off the counter.

“Wait, but—” You tried to speak again, but Mary wasn’t having it.

“I’ll send you their address. You have to be there at 10 AM!” she yelled before heading to her room.

That wasn’t very informative.

You were never this nervous. You really didn’t want to mess this up. Your palms were sweaty, and you were worried they'd think something was wrong with you, maybe unfit to handle kids if you were this nervous over meeting the parents. And Mary hadn’t even bothered to give you any info about the family—no names, no details about their children.

What made it worse was that you couldn’t decide what to wear. You wanted something casual but presentable, something that said 'I’m approachable, but not a slob.'

You were pretty sure the wife wouldn't appreciate anything too scandolous, and a single dad might misread it.

You ended up choosing a red and green Christmas sweater, mom jeans, and Mary Jane’s—comfortable enough, you thought, to handle kids.

Unfortunately, your timing didn’t match. Without a car (since your dad had cut you off), you had to bike there. And to make matters worse, you’d burned your toast and didn’t have time to make more. You were late, pedaling as fast as you could, praying your GPS was right.

You finally arrived at a beautiful suburban house—exactly what you imagined when you thought of a family of four. The house had a neat front yard, a doormat, and was surrounded by well-kept homes. Taking a deep breath, you rang the doorbell and quickly checked your reflection. Your hair was a mess, but you didn't have time to fix it before the door swung open.

A man with black hair, a black button-up shirt, and tattoos on his arms greeted you. He was strikingly handsome with a charming smile. And.. great, you were already crushing on the dad.

"Hey, you must be Y/N, the babysitter Mary recommended," He said with a grin, extending his hand. "We were expecting you—come on in."

The house felt warm and homey, with photos of kids everywhere and Christmas decorations all over. Toys were scattered on the living room floor but not in a messy way—just lived in.

"Sorry about the mess," The man said, laughing and running a hand through his hair. "You’ve arrived during morning madness."

"Oh, it’s fine," You replied, feeling flustered. "The decorations are lovely."

"They kind of went overboard this year," He chuckled.

Before you could say anything else, another man entered the room—a tall, broad figure with light brown hair, wearing a white button-up shirt and brown slacks. Scars marked his face, but they somehow added to how pretty he was.

“Sirius,” The man grumbled, “I told you to tidy up an hour ago,” He sent an annoyed look his way,

"Remus," The new man said, extending a hand. "Apologies for the chaos. It’s never this untidy."

"Yes, it is," Sirius teased. Remus shot him a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"It’s nice to meet you both," You said with a smile. "Your home is beautiful. It reminds me of my family’s place."

Remus looked relieved. "We’re glad to have you. Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" He asked.

"I think I’m fine," You answered kindly as Remus led you to the couch.

Sirius sat next to you, creating a situation where you were sandwiched between the two men. You felt a little nervous, but they looked extremely comfortable.

"So, Mary didn’t tell us much about you," Remus started.

"She just gave us your last name and I didn't think it would be kind to search you up," Sirius added.

You laughed nervously. "Yeah, she can be a bit mysterious for no reason."

Sirius noticed you fidgeting and put a hand on your knee. "We’re just happy to get to know you ourselves," He said with a kind smile.

"Well, ask me anything," You said, trying to calm your nerves.

"Anything?" Sirius asked with a teasing smile. You flushed, and Remus shot him a warning look.

"How old are you?" Remus asked.

"21," You answered.

"Ah, the responsible age," Sirius joked, "How has it been?" He asked, trying to make you more comfortable.

"It’s been good," You replied. "More responsibilities now, its been a bit hectic."

"Out of school?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, just finished," You said with a smile.

"What did you study?" He continued.

"Criminal Justice with a minor in Creative Writing."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Remus here is a bit of a writer himself."

You perked up. "Really?"

Remus chuckled. "Just write novels here and there."

"Which ones?" You asked eagerly, looking at him in excitement.

"Probably haven’t heard of them," Remus said, shrugging. "The Idea of the Unknown was one that was popular for a bit," He added casually, and your eyes widened.

"Wait, you wrote The Idea of the Unknown?" You asked in disbelief.

He laughed. "Yeah, that’s me."

He seemed completely nonchalant as he mentioned one of the books that had shaped your entire view on life. You were amazed by how humble he could be about it.

And then it clicked,

He was one of your all time favorite authors.

You almost fainted. "You’re the Remus Lupin?" You asked, excited.

"Surprised you know my work," He said. "I didn’t think your age group read my books."

"I love your books!" You exclaimed. "The story between Ophelia and Duke had me crying for weeks after the ending."

Remus smiled warmly. "I spent fifteen years perfecting that ending. Glad it made an impact."

"But we're glad you love his work," Sirius teased, a sly grin painting his face.

You blushed, mortified. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into a meet and greet. I swear I’m not a stalker."

Sirius laughed. "Honestly, this just makes us more sure about you. At least we know you have taste." He nudged your shoulder jokingly.

You felt a bit guilty for not asking more about their kids. "So, what are their names?"

You pointed to a picture of two kids—a boy with dark hair and hazel eyes, and a shy-looking girl with long brown hair. They were both in front of the Christmas tree with matching Rudolph pajamas as the boy smiled confidently in front of the camera and the little girl hid behind him.

"Harry is almost four—he’s a bit of a handful, but he’s brave. Ruby’s shy, but she’s a clever little thing." Remus says, "And don't be fooled by either of them, they love to prank people and be up to no good,"

"They’re both adorable," You said. "I’m sure I’ll love them."

Remus checked his watch. "Actually, they should be back from their walk about now."

And just as he said that, the door opened, and in came a tall man with glasses and black hair that was shorter than Sirius's, carrying Ruby on his back and with Harry hanging from his leg.

Yet another handsome man.

"Okay, go to your daddies," The man said, setting Ruby down. She rushed over to Sirius, while Harry went to Remus, peppering him with questions.

The man turned to you. "And who’s this?" He asked with a grin.

You felt your heart race. "I’m Y/N, the new babysitter," You said, extending a hand.

"James," He said, then surprised you by pulling you into a hug. "Nice to meet you."

Sirius laughed. "He’s a hugger." He picked up Ruby as she pulled on his long locks of hair, earning a pained groan from him as he put her back down, "Not nice," He jokingly pouted as he rubbed his head.

You were too busy by James's embrace to be fully locked on to the kids as his scent infiltrated your nose. James smelled like maple syrup and firewood, and it almost made you dizzy.

When he pulled back, he grinned. "We’re glad to have you."

"Yeah, we need a new face around here," Sirius added as Ruby shyly hid behind his legs.

"Come on, Ruby, say hello," James coaxed, looking at the little girl and nodding his head to you as she went towards you in a shy manner, "She won't bite," James added, trying to help.

You kneeled down to her level. "Unless you want me to," You joked, making her giggle.

"My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?"

"Ruby," She said quietly.

"That’s a pretty name," You said. "You’re pretty too."

Ruby smiled shyly, and you stood up to find a little Harry already approaching you.

"Do you have cookies?" He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Not yet," You laughed.

"Bwoo," Harry pouted, moving over to James as he picked him up.

"Looks like you’re going to be a good fit,"

[magics-neptunes-things]

Struck By Love

Hi guys!

I received a lot of really nice comments about my first fic with Steph and some of you wanted a second part of this story, so here it is :)

Please enjoy ♥

And Happy New Year!

TW : Injury

Chapter Before

You probably never have been so happy in your life until now. After Emily and Kat’s wedding, you came back to London to begin your life again. It was nice to see your family back in Australia, but you must admit that you were eager to come back home. Like this you will be able to see Steph again, because the girl went back to her family in Melbourne to finish her trip here.

You didn’t take your ticket the same day as Steph, you were on the plane with Caitlin, Katie and Kyra instead. Hayley is already back in London at this time. Steph is too, but you decided that she won’t come to greet you. As you said it will have her Arsenal teammates, so it was better that way.

In January, you took her to several dates in London, enjoying being able to have quality time with her. You went to restaurants, for some walks with Calvin and you even went ice skating together.

You love having time with her, getting to know her better. You have been very honest with her about the depth and the reality of your feelings for her since the beginning, and she doesn’t seem scared about it. Which is a real relief, even if you don’t expect anything from her at any time.

You are happy to just wait for her and you let her take the lead about what she’s ready to do. The dynamic works great like this and you are secretly very happy to see that you weren’t the only one eager to have moments together. When you don’t propose to see her for two days in a row, Steph asks you if you are free the same day.

You helped her to find a flat and she finally has found something with a garden for Calvin and not far from Arsenal’s training centre. It’s closer to your flat than where she was leaving before, too.

On the fifth date, you had this conversation about knowing what the other wants about your relationship and even if no one asked the other to be her girlfriend formally, you were both clear about the fact that you will be exclusive. It was obvious for you, but Steph needed reassurance, and you were happy to give it to her.

Like if you would be able to look at someone else anyway.

There are times where you can’t see each other for almost four days because of your schedule and the games, and it’s always a little hard when it is happening. It’s the case today.

You left for Manchester on Friday to play Saturday against United and Steph left with Arsenal on Saturday to play against Brighton & Hove Albion on Sunday. You had your day off on Sunday, so you were able to watch Steph’s game, but you haven’t seen her for real since Thursday and it’s way too long for your liking.

It seems that is the case for Steph too, the girl is literally rushing to get her things in her bag and be able to leave the training centre. She almost doesn’t take the time to answer Kyra’s teasing while putting on her shoes and her coat.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Katie arches an eyebrow, looking at Steph running around from her bench.

“I have a thousand things to do at home”

Steph answers casually and her answer seems to catch Beth’s attention. It is too casual to be real in the blonde’s opinion. But she doesn’t have the time to say something because soon Steph isn’t here anymore.

“What is she up to?” Kyra frowns at Beth.

“Dunno. That was weird”

Both look at each other before grinning and saying at the same time.

“We need to find out what is happening.”

********

You were far from this, finally parking your car in Steph’s street. You stopped in a local pizzeria to grab some pizza for the night, in a place you know that Steph likes. You very quickly learned her favourite things to eat or her command at Starbucks for example.

You don’t have to wait very long for Steph to open the door after you knock on it, it was only thirty seconds wait.

“Hello-ooo” you say before being grabbed by the collar of your jacket and taken inside.

Right after you feel Steph’s lips against yours and you put the pizza somewhere to be able to kiss her back easier. Your smile kind of broke the kiss but Steph doesn’t seem to mind. You kiss her cheek and her neck before taking a discreet but big breath of her perfume.

“I missed you” she whispers, and you hug her harder against you.

“Missed you too”

You still can’t believe that this situation is really happening. You never thought that you will be able to have this kind of relationship with Steph one day. You are scared to lose it now to be honest, but you try to concentrate on the present.

Steph finally drags you to her living room, where you just cuddle while eating your pizzas and looking at a film. Steph already took Calvin for his walk today and he’s peacefully asleep on his dog bed in the corner of the living room.

You aren’t really looking at the movie to be honest. You asked her a lot of questions to know how her four days really went. You wrote her messages, and you had her on the phone twice, but with her teammates around, it’s never really easy.

You are still secret for now, wanting to have this secret only between you two. You like it that way, finding Steph at the end of the day and being in your little bubble of love.

“That plaid is the best purchase I have ever made” Steph comments at some point.

You laugh while looking at the big and fluffy plaid who is big enough to easily cover both of you. It’s comfy and hot too. And it has the advantage of having Steph’s smell.

“I like it too” you smile, snuggling against her.

The pizza boxes are abandoned on the table with some pizza crusts inside. Like every time you command at this place, it was a great pizza. You haven’t eaten everything though, so if you are hungry during the night you will have something to eat.

“How are your hands still so cold?”

You smirk when Steph wiggle to get away from you, passing now both of your hands under her shirt.

“Babe stop” she giggles.

But you don’t stop, amused by her reaction. When your hands are hot enough against her skin, you kiss her, happily taking advantage of your position. She kisses you back and you kind of lose any notion of anything when she passes her arms around your neck to take you against her.

You are still kissing several minutes after, when Steph’s door is opened by a non-really discreet Kyra. But between the noise of the TV and what you are doing, it would be almost impossible to hear anything. Thank god, no one decided to burgle Steph’s house tonight.

Steph is now lying on you, still under the plaid, but during your making out session your hands never left her body. You have now one of them on her bum, while the other is in her hair. Steph’s hands are softly scratching your abs, a gesture that makes you half-crazy.

“Oh my god what the hell is happening here?!”

Kyra’s scream makes both of you jump and Steph avoids falling off the couch only thanks to your excellent reflexes. Seeing your reactions, Calvin jumps from his bed to start to bark at Kyra.

“No one ever taught you the use of a door?” Steph asks after having calmed Calvin.

“You weren’t answering! And I used the key you gave me” Kyra answers, pointing an accusing finger at Steph.

Steph groans and you silently nod somewhere in your head to take this key away from Kyra as soon as possible.

“What is happening between you two? I thought you were straight!” Kyra asks Steph, frowning at you.

You look at each other, not really knowing what to answer. You are both standing now in front of the couch where you were very intimate several seconds ago.

“Being engaged to a man doesn’t make me straight. And it’s none of your business.” Steph rolls her eyes at her.

The big sister versus little sister energy makes you smile, but you don’t show it too much, letting cowardly Steph deal with her pest.  

“I just saw you with your tongue in her mouth, it’s totally my business now”

Little sister energy.

When you see that Steph is looking at you for some help, you don’t hesitate to stand at her high though, putting a hand on her back. You feel the nerves getting out of her body a little bit under your touch.

“Was it why you were in such a hurry earlier?” Kyra asks again, softer this time.

“Yes” Steph sighs “We have this… things going on since December and even if I haven’t talked about it to anyone it makes me really happy. I just wanted to keep it for us for now”

Steph throws a quick look at you when she uses the word “things”, and you answer her with a soft smile. Like you said before, you never put a real label on your relationship.

“Are you serious about it?”

It’s a little passive-aggressive now and the question is directed towards you. You arch an eyebrow, not really used to have to face an angry Kyra with arms crossed on her chest.

“I am” you answer calmly.

“Good. Because I let an asshole coming in her life once, I won’t let another one doing the same thing”

“God Kyra, shut up”

A pillow flows right in Kyra’s face. Steph seems to be really uncomfortable about Kyra’s statement, but you find it cute instead. And you are glad to see that Steph has friends like Kyra in her life.

“Will I have shared custody?” you joke to Steph, looking in Kyra’s direction.

“She’s Mini’s kid, not mine”

Later that evening, after having kicked Kyra out and making her swear not to say anything to anyone, you find yourself with Steph in her bed. You are scrolling on your phone and texting some members of your family in Australia while Steph is lying on your chest.

You are playing with her hair too. You are very comfortable like this and you could stay here until the end of the world. Steph seems lost in her thoughts, unless she’s falling asleep. But you don’t interrupt her, knowing that she will talk to you if she needs to share anything.

It’s only when she turns her head to look at you that you put your phone on the bed, your other hand still in her hair.

“Is everything alright?” you ask softly.

She hums for only an answer, before going up on your body to put her head on your shoulder and not on your chest. You let her, passing your hand around her waist and kissing her head.

“I missed you”

Like this afternoon you feel your heart miss a beat and you love the warm feeling her words provide in you.

“I missed you too Stephy” you smile at her. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing really, just that I hope Kyra will know how to shut her mouth”

“I’m sure she will”

You have a good feeling about it, Kyra might be a little pest when she wants it, but she’s very protective about the people she loves. And you know that even if you aren’t close to her like Steph or Mini, she loves Steph. And she will do what is needed for Steph’s good.

You kiss Steph’s hair again and when she looks up you put a tender kiss on her lips. You both are pretty tired after your weekend so you quickly both fall asleep after that.

********

In late February, you are back with the Matildas for the Shebelieves Cup. You made the journey with Steph of course, but also Kyra, Caitlin, Hayley and all the girls playing in England. You are a little sad to be seated next to Charli and not Steph, who is next to Mini.

You would probably have a better sleep if you were able to put your head on Steph’s shoulder, but the travel passed anyway. You are not with Steph either in your hotel rooms, this time sharing the room with Alanna. Steph is almost on the other side of the floor every time which practically prevents you from sneaking into her room at some point.

So you are a little bit moody this morning at breakfast, between the jet lag and the fact that you haven’t slept very well because Alanna is snoring like a damn combine harvester.

You are under your hood while eating your mountain of cereals alone, until Mini, Harper and Kyra come to sit with you.

“Hello sunshine. Mind if we sit here?” Kyra smirks.

You groan for any answer, making the girl giggle. You then put your eyes on Harper, who seems sulking too.

“Are you grumpy too because they don’t have any Froot Loops and only those disgusting Kellog’s?” Harper asks you, eyebrows frowned.

“Sure am Buddy” you answer. “And because no one told me that I will be sleeping with a tractor”

“Sorry, I thought that Lani’s snores were known by anyone” Caitlin says from the table next to yours.

Your other teammates are coming to have breakfast little by little around you now.

“What is known by anyone?” Steph asks casually, sitting in front of Caitlin.

Your apparition makes a funny thing in your stomach and you wonder quickly until when those butterflies will stay.

“That Y/N slept with Lani” Harper answers with all her innocence, making you choke on your cereal, Steph spilling her coffee and Kyra dying laughing. “But Lani did it like a tractor”

“Harper, you can’t phrase things like that” a laughing Mini intervenes.

“God” you mumble, holding your forehead.

You throw a tentative glance towards Steph, above Kyra’s head who is always laughing like crazy. She receives a slap behind her head by Caitlin, distracting everyone’s attention while you and Steph exchange a glance.

She doesn’t seem disturbed by what just happened, but on the other hand you never slept with Alanna. She even has an amused smile on her face.

That moment is quickly known by all the team of course, and it makes Alanna laugh too. You have to admit that it’s pretty funny and now that you know that Steph hasn’t taken anything badly, it’s easier to laugh about it.

You are more concentrated on not looking at Steph all day, though. Not for the same reasons as before. Before it was not to be caught by Steph herself. Now it’s to avoid being discovered by someone. You find it even harder now though, because you have the right to do it.

You don’t know if Steph’s smile will stay on her face all day, however, because all the team seems to take the joke really by heart. You received some comments about it all day, from your teammates but from people on the staff too. It even went viral on social media.

Alanna doesn’t seem to mind though, given the way she takes you by your shoulders to drag you back into your room before dinner.

“Come on Casanova, show me again some moves you got”

You roll your eyes but follow her anyway, taken away from any idea of sneaking out somewhere in the city with Steph. You haven’t been able to talk to her all day long and she doesn’t know you wanted to do that, but you still miss that plan.

Of course, when you are in the room you share with Alanna, she goes to her bed while you do the same. On yours. If it needs to be said, you never had any interest in the blonde, even if you like her very much. As a friend.

You always have a crossword book with you and that is with what you were occupying yourself when you feel your phone vibrating on your nightstand, where you put it to charge.

From Pudding 💞 Having fun?

You roll your eyes and disconnect your phone from the cable of your charging. You then sit cross-legged on your bed, your book forgotten.

From You No 🥺 I miss you What are you doing?

From Pudding 💞 Nothing much. Just watching Kyra and Charli misbehave with Harper

From You If I manage to escape my room, would you like to go for a walk? We have time to do it until dinner

From Pudding 💞 I’d love to 😌

You smile and you lurk towards Alanna to know what excuse you could use to get out of the room without being suspect.

“I’m going to take something to drink, do you want something?”

“Mh? No, thanks” Alanna mumbles back without looking at you.

From You I’m coming. Find me in front of the hotel?

You don’t wait for Steph’s answer before going up, putting your shoes and your hoodie back and going out of the room. You don’t see anyone when you reach the entrance of the hotel, or at least anyone from the Australian team.

Steph is already waiting for you, hidden in the corner of the building and you hurry your path to meet her.

Your first move is to go for a hug, but Steph stops you with a hand on your stomach.

“Someone still can see us here” she explains to you with a soft smile.

You nod and follow her steps, putting your hands in the pocket of your hoodie instead. Being next to her like this without being able to touch her is torturous for you. And you are together for only two months, you wonder how a couple can hide their relationship for years.

“How are you?” you ask her after several meters.

“Fine. It’s strange to be with you all day without being able to really be with you, you know?”

“Yeah. I feel the same”

You bite your lip softly, wondering how to approach the teasing you have to endure all day. You don’t know how she feels about it and you don’t want to assume anything. But it’s finally Steph who talks again first.

“But Kyra made me realise that not talking to you at all might be suspect for the others too. I mean we were friends before and we were quite close to each other, you know?”

You nod slowly at that. It was true, you went for example in the vineyard with her before your first kiss at Emily’s wedding.

“She’s right” you smile, relieved to realise that you are finally authorized to spend some time with her. “It’s weird that this advice comes from Kyra though”

Steph smirks and, now that you are away from the hotel, grabs your arm with hers. You let her do it, quickly kissing her temple.

“She might have teased me a little bit” Steph admits after some time.

“About us?”

“Yes, and that rumour about you and Alanna. And the fact that you seemed moody all morning too”

“I was, I really haven’t slept enough” you shrug before frowning. “But I’m sorry about the teasing”

“It’s okay” Steph smiles at you. “I know it’s not the truth”

You have to admit that Steph is way more chill than you are. Or maybe less jealous? Maybe both, because you totally remember about you being jealous when she was dancing and laughing with Mackenzie at Emily’s wedding for example.

You stay silent, a little bit ashamed about it. But your silence seems to tease Steph’s curiosity.

“It’s not true, right?”

“Oh, yes. Of course it isn’t” you hasten to confirm.

You free your arm to pass it around Steph’s waist, holding her against you. You were still walking, a little bit randomly to be honest. You haven’t really discovered the horizons; you had to travel a lot in the USA for the Cup, and you would rather be peacefully in your room than walking around.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

You turn your head towards the Café Steph is looking at and nod. You’re not a big fan of coffee to be honest, but you know that Steph is. You follow her inside, letting her pass her command first before asking for a tea yourself.

“How do you feel about tomorrow?” you ask the other Aussie when you are seated.

“Concentrated. We need to be if you want to win”

“I wasn’t asking my Captain” you smirk above your tea. “I was asking you”

Just like she does sometimes, she looks at you with a way softer look than usual, and a cute smile, and it makes you melt. So much that you have to be really concentrated to follow the next part of the conversation.

The next day, you are playing against Colombia and when you enter the stadium, you feel pretty confident. Not because you are sure that you will win, but because you know that the team will do as much as possible to win the game. You are starting, positioned just behind Caitlin Foord in the middle of the pitch. It makes you stand in the middle of the players but you still manage to have a good view of your whatever Steph is.

You managed to go back to the hotel without no one asking you any questions yesterday, Alanna easily believing your story about being asked by Kyra for a random Uno game.

The first part of the game went great, to be honest. Colombia is a tough opponent, but you are winning 3-1, thanks to two goals from Caitlin and a really well managed free kick by Steph. You even managed to have an assist for one of the goals.

Around the seventy-minute Steph got subbed, just like Caitlin for Michelle Heyman. Your teammate from Tottenham, Hayley, is still on the pitch, just like Kyra.

In the 76 minutes, Colombia managed to score their second goal making 3-2 and you knew from that moment that they will push as much as possible to score a third one. Mackenzie is able to make some great stops and at the 82 Hayley almost scores, the ball hitting the corner of the post before going right in the stands.

At the 84, Mackenzie stops a ball from a corner and throws it quickly in the front, where you are waiting with Michelle. The blonde catches the ball and you follow her, facing two Colombians. You easily catch the pass Michelle offers you and run towards the goalkeeper, not expecting a single second a tackle coming from behind.

That is what happens though, your ankle painfully trapped between two legs, making you fall on the ground. It hurts and between the pain and how hard you fall on the ground, you have trouble breathing completely again.

You don’t hear the chaos above you, Ellie and Mini screaming at your opponent, the red card she takes or even the referee trying to calm everyone down. You just try to breathe, focusing your attention on your throbbing ankle and the design of Kyra’s boots, protectively crouch somewhere near your head.

“Hey it’s okay, you're okay” she says to you.

“She’s bleeding, we have to take her shoe and sock off”

You don’t recognize which one of the paramedics is talking, but you groan in protest when they grab your ankle. You hear the referee asking them to take you outside the pitch and some of your teammates protesting something, but you don’t really care. You didn’t have to deal with a lot of injuries in your life, but this one really hurts. It scares you, to be honest.

You hear the applause of the crowd when you are taken inside the stadium on the stretcher, but you don’t really react, hiding your face in both of your arms.

It’s way quieter when you are inside the infirmary, where a nurse gives you something for the pain. You thank her quietly, drinking the fresh water she gives you soon after with appreciation.

“We have to put some stitches on before going to hospital for a scan. Given how she takes you down, you might have something broken”

“Great” you sigh, looking at the ceiling.

Your mind goes to Steph. You would like to have her with you, but she’s the captain and has other duties. You are only friends for the others and if one of them should come with you, it would be more logical for Hayley to come with you.

But you are happily surprised to see that it’s in fact Steph who comes inside the room almost twenty minutes later, while you are still waiting for the stitches. She looks worried, but you feel your body relax as soon as she’s here.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, frowning.

“Better. The nurse gave me some morphine. But I have to go to the hospital to make a scan”

She sighs and strokes your cheek tenderly, before the door of the room opens again, making her retract her hand like if your cheek was on fire.

You look at the nurse when she comes inside, followed by a man you haven’t seen before.

“Y/N if you are ready, we are too”

She nods towards the needles and compresses in the trail she just put on a table next to you, and you can’t help but make a grimace. You are totally not ready for it. You hate needles.

“It’s going to be okay” she says, putting her hand on your arm in a comforting gesture. “Maybe it’s better if you leave?”

She turns towards Steph who is still standing in the room and you put your eyes on her too, just in time to see her frowning gaze looking at the nurse’s gesture.

“Oh. Uh, sure. I just wanted to give Y/N her things”

She puts the bag she was holding until now on a chair and turns her heels to leave, but you don’t want her to. So, you call her, almost shyly.

“Can you stay with me and maybe hold my hand? Please?”

“Of course”

She doesn’t hesitate a single second before coming back near you, sitting on a second chair and grabbing your hand.

“Thanks” you breathe. “I hate needles”

“I didn’t know”

She tilts her head curiously towards you, and you shrug. It’s not really something you talk about during your first dates usually, until you are dating a nurse maybe. You look at the doctor who is preparing his things, totally ignoring you three. You are nervous, so much that Steph can feel the tension in your body.

“Look at me. Just concentrate yourself on me”

You take a deep breath and oblige, your eyes easily falling on her. She hasn’t taken a shower after the game; she’s still wearing her kit under her jacket. She still has her bun, and she looks effortlessly pretty, even after a game like this. If you were alone, you would have said to her how beautiful she is.

It seems that she understands really easily what you are thinking about though, because you see her cheeks becoming a little more red. It makes you smile and want to kiss her. It’s frustrating, but at least like this you kind of forget what is happening near your ankle.

“Finish” the doctor says before standing up. “Ellen here will come with you to the hospital, so you have a real follow-up. And I think one of the members of the Australian team will come too”

You don’t see Steph frowning at that. You nod looking at the doctor leaving the room and the nurse following to get everything needed.

“I’ll go take a shower and I’ll come to the hospital as soon as possible, okay?” Steph says softly.

You nod again and sigh, letting your head go against the pillow of the bed. You watch Steph when she stands to kiss you, making you smile.

“Thank you for coming”

“Of course” she smiles and kisses you one more time.

She gets up just in time, the nurse coming back with all she needs. She makes sure that you have everything you need before taking you to the ambulance for the hospital. You are already on crutches, and you had hoped not to have to take the ambulance, but it seems like it’s how things are done here.

A little bit dramatic in your opinion.

Ellen and Kate, your team nurse, talked your ears off during the journey to the hospital and are still doing it when you arrive in your assigned room. The team asked for one for you to be able to take a shower and you are really grateful for it.

“Do you need help?” Ellen asks.

“Uh. No, thank you” you mumble, feeling your cheeks getting a little red.

“Look at you, Casanova” Kate giggles. “Alanna wasn’t enough, you need someone else already?”

“Oh god” you sigh.

“Is Alanna your girlfriend?”

“No” you roll your eyes.

You let Kate explain the story behind it, ignoring the different laughs coming from it while texting your parents and the Matildas’ WhatsApp group. Then you write to Steph too.

From You Are you soon here? The Nurse proposed her help for my shower

From Pudding 💞 That is not funny

You don’t have any other answer from her, and you sigh softly before putting your phone on your bed. Time to shower. You take the fresh underwear that Steph packs you with a fresh shirt and shorts too. You are glad to avoid the shirt from the hospital though.

“If Alanna isn’t your girlfriend, you still can take my help” Ellen adds, apparently more seriously.

You hesitate a little about what to answer at that. She seems serious about her help, but still teasing-flirting a little bit too.

“I still have a girlfriend” you finally answer.

You don’t know if Steph will be happy with that, like you said you never put a label on your relationship. But at least Ellen will understand that you are not interested.

“Do you?” Kate asks you with a big surprise.

“Yes” you smirk. “But it’s very fresh and you are under professional secrecy so you can’t say anything to anyone”

“You have a girlfriend, and you make jokes about sleeping with someone else?” Ellen asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I… I’m not the one who started it” you try to defend yourself.

“She’s right” Kate has your back “The situation has somewhat escaped her”

Ellen hums, apparently not totally convinced about your answers, but you decide not to give too much importance. First because you have to take this shower before they come to take you for the scan. And second because you will probably not see her again and that you don’t really care about what she might think.

After the shower, you went for your scan with Kate, who walks you happily around the hospital in a wheelchair.

And when you are back in your room, you are happy to see Kyra and Steph waiting for you, sitting next to Ellen. Their hair are still wet from their shower.

“How are you feeling?” Steph asks.

“I’m okay” you shrug, passing from the wheelchair to the bed. “How was the end of the game?”

You already asked this to Kate when you left for the hospital, but you want to have your teammates’ opinion. The good news is that Australia won, even if it was a close one.

“I have to go” Ellen says after Kyra’s explanation. “Will you be okay there?”

“Yeah thanks” you smile politely at her.

“It was nice meeting you” Ellen squeezes your arm affectionately.

Your eyes cross Steph’s when she leaves the room, before looking at Kyra who seems to have the time of her life.

“Do you think I can eat something?” you ask Kate.

“Sure, I’ll go to the cafeteria to grab you a sandwich or something. Do you want something else?”

You shake your head and she gets up, imitated by Kyra who claims to be hungry too. You don’t know if it’s true or if she wants to leave you alone with Steph, but you are happy to be alone with her a little bit.

What you said earlier when it was only you with Kate and Ellen comes back in your mind and you wriggle a little bit on your bed.

“Why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not weird” you mumble without looking at her.

“Don’t you dare tell me she came to help you under the shower” she says sternly.

You wince at her tone but shakes your head, searching for her gaze this time. If you are weird, she seems tense. Like very tense. You don’t want to upset her, but it seems more important for you to tell the truth.

Steph had crossed her arms on her chest, still seated in the chair in front of your bed.

“It’s not that” you say, nervously passing your hand in your hair. “But I might said that I have a girlfriend to her”

Steph looks at you blankly for several seconds, so much that you start to think that she’s waiting for you to add something.

“How is that a problem?” Steph asks.

“Kate was here too”

“And… That’s all? You seem so uneasy because you told a girl who was hitting on you that you already have someone?”

She doesn’t seem annoyed anymore; you almost have the impression that she’s repressing a smile. And you don’t really understand what the hell is happening.

“We agreed to keep it hidden for several times and we never discussed about being girlfriend” you frown.

Steph is totally smiling now, finally leaving her chair to come sit in front of you on your bed. She was upset and now she seems… softened?

“I am glad that you put a stop to her flirting with that information” Steph grabs your hand while talking “And I know none of us asked the other officially, but I would love to make it a little bit more official. Not by saying it to everyone, but at least by putting a real word on our relationship.”

“So… If I, hypothetically, ask you to be my girlfriend, would you say yes?”

“Hypothetically, yes” she smirks

And she laughs when she sees you rolling your eyes. You are not mad at her for her teasing though, how could you when her laugh is the most beautiful thing ever? You decide to try one more time, a little bit more seriously this time.

“Stephanie-Elise Catley, would you please be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to”

You have time to see her smile before she leans in your direction, and you finish the gesture to kiss her.

Steph Catley is your girlfriend.

You don’t know what you did to be so lucky, but the happiness you feel right now makes you pass your arms around her waist, and you take her with you when you let yourself fall on the bed.

She lets out a high short scream when you make her fall on you, but her lips are soon very occupied again.

Both of you are able to hear when the door of the room is open though and you turn your head, waiting to be facing Kyra. But it’s actually Kate, holding your scan in one hand and your sandwich in the other.

“Oh… New girlfriend. I see”

[remlionheart]

Growing Pains

part three

♡ˎˊ˗ hiiii, welcome to the final installment of the fic that’s taken over my life for the last four months ♡ ̆̈ be sure to start here if you're new ♡ moving on from this story will be emotional i can’t lie, i've gotten way too invested in this but i'm very happy that i was able to see it through and hopefully do it justice. what started off as a small idea turned into something much bigger and i'm so thankful for all of the love and support you guys gave me. i love u all SO much, thanks for sticking with me on this ♡ biblically-cannon-megumi x fem!reader. slow burn. hurt / comfort. aged up characters. forced proximity. (light) enemies to lovers. eventual smut. this is what jjk could've been if fushiguro was the main character and gege would’ve been hugged as a child. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ˎˊ˗

₊⊹♡ MDNI ₊⊹♡

° ���𐭩 . ° .

You'd lied for him.

Despite absolutely everything– despite your better judgement, despite the sick, burning sense of anxiety that had taken over your mind and body, you'd still... covered for him. Giving Gojo vague and concise answers, fabricating lies to make Megumi's late-night disappearances seem less concerning than they actually were. Telling him that it'd just started happening instead of admitting that it'd actually been going on for nearly two months. Painting a soft, false picture that he was usually only ever gone for an hour at a time though there had been several nights he hadn't made it back until nearly 4 in the morning. Mending his worries with whatever reassuring words you could string together to make him loosen up on his questioning until he'd finally closed the door to your dorm, leaving you with a poignant– "If anything else happens, you come find me."

You weren't sure how you'd managed to hold it together so well, but the minute it was just you alone with your thoughts again, you found your hands trembling as you rushed over to his side of the room. Reminding yourself to breathe while you rummaged through his bookshelf and nightstand for any sort of explanation.

Going through his things felt wrong, but not going through them would've somehow felt worse. If you'd learned anything from your time spent with him, it was that Megumi Fushiguro was a lot of things, but deceitful without cause wasn't one of them. He wasn't the type to lie for no reason. He held his secrets unreasonably close to his chest but never out of malice. If he was hiding something, if he was lying to you, Gojo, Nobara, and Yuuji– arguably the only people he'd ever really let in, it wasn't because he wanted to.

His belongings were every bit as organized and well-guarded as he was though, hardly anything seeming suspicious or out of place no matter how many journals and textbooks you searched through. You were trying to be as meticulous as you could, doing your very best not to acknowledge the race against the clock you knew were up against or the ever-increasing weight that was sitting on your chest as you reached for the only book left– the one that you'd gifted him for his birthday.

You pushed past your body's consternation, carefully flipping through the pages when finally, a folded up loose-leaf piece of paper fell out of it, making your heart completely abandon any semblance of a steady rhythm.

It was a series of bullet-points mostly, jotted down information about reversed curse techniques and different types of healing abilities that didn't seem to go in any particular order. You were almost afraid that you'd hit another dead-end until your eyes landed on the bottom of the page. Your legs suddenly struggling to keep you upright as you trailed over his handwriting, all of the rigid pieces of the last few months gradually beginning to unravel and connect.

"Technique Name: 'Kokoro Kiri' - also known as Heart Severing," it read, "is a reversed curse technique developed to manipulate, distort, and erase memories by severing the spiritual and emotional connections tied within a person's mind. This technique utilizes cursed energy to fracture the target's emotional bonds to certain experiences and people, effectively making them unable to access specific memories."

The page nearly slipped from your grasp, your hand suddenly shaking beyond your control as you forced yourself to take a seat on the edge of his bed. Your breathing was alarmingly uneven, tears desperately trying to push their way out no matter how hard you fought to keep them at bay. As much as you wanted to lie to yourself– to naively choose to believe that all of this somehow wasn't directly related to you, you couldn't.

Reality had you backed into a corner with its steel grip locked firmly around your neck and there was no escaping it.

Your vision was blurry, the words almost bleeding together as you continued on to the last paragraph, "Memory Fragmentation– typically performed by a healer, is used to destroy emotional and cognitive connections attached to selected memories or selected people in the target's mind. In some extreme cases, a skilled enough user may even have the capability to erase large portions of their target's past or sever bonds between them and a specified individual. Unlike memory manipulation or distortion, this ability creates a void in the target's mind, leaving them with a permanent sense of disconnection from who or what was once there."

The oxygen had all but vanished from the room as you stared back at his words, a devastatingly cruel fate laid out in such pretty handwriting. It was hard to fathom, that the same hands that had touched you so gently– the ones that had played with your hair until you'd fallen asleep, the ones that had tangled into yours on the nights that neither one of you wanted to be alone were the same ones that had been carrying around the weight of this plan all along.

You knew him well enough to know that this wasn't something he'd just decided on– no, nothing Megumi ever did was half-thought-out or impulsive. He was unbearably analytical. Annoyingly thorough when it came to most things, but especially research. He'd never bother to waste his time on variables or flimsy possibilities. If he was going to do something, he had to be impossibly sure that it would work, which meant that this… this must've been a guarantee.

All of those moments of hesitation– both big and small. The layers of distance and formality. The harsh, venomous silence that he used to separate himself from you. They all finally made sense.

"Itadori. Kugisaki. Anyone else here that you meet, for that matter," he'd said, "they’re not your friends.”

The tears that streamed down your face were painful and completely unavoidable as you pulled your knees up to your chest, letting your head rest against your arm while his words continued to haunt you.

“You can’t avoid it forever." The way he'd said it had felt so cold and unwarranted at the time. "You’re gonna have to get used to loss and to keeping everyone you meet at a distance." But it'd never occurred to you until now just how necessary that conversation actually was.

It had been a warning, not for you, but for himself.

Your body was numb, mind completely overrun with questions that you weren't sure you even wanted answers to, and they just kept multiplying the longer you sat with it all.

You allowed yourself another minute to breathe before slowly unfolding your legs and using the sleeve of your hoodie to dry your cheeks. Letting your eyes drift over the page one last time as you carefully tucked it into his book again and got to your feet, wedging it back into the spot you'd taken it from.

Would he have told you? Or would you have woken up one day with a void in the place that he should've been, not even realizing that something was missing? How far did this go, exactly? If there were different degrees of memory fragmentation, where did his interest in using it begin and where did it end?

The only real thing that made sense to you was that this must've been some sort of loophole to negate his contract with Yaga. To either free you from Jujutsu Society as a whole or to break his tie to you. It was too late at this point though– after everything that had happened, you didn't want to go down either of those paths and the fact that he did, the fact that he had somehow come to terms with the entirety of this... it made you realize that maybe you'd never actually known him at all.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, abruptly pulling you back to reality as his name flashed across the screen: "No project tonight," it read, "it'll finally just be us."

You stared at the text, unable to even write back a simple reply with how hard it was to keep yourself standing upright and steady. Your thumbs hovered above the keys, almost typing, but never actually letting a full thought form before another blue bubble popped up from him: "I wish it could always just be us."

Tears were instantly pricking at the corners of your eyes again, your insides burning as your chest constricted. Precarious but determined fingertips spelling out the last bit of honesty that seemed to exist between the two of you–

"It could’ve been...”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

He was frozen in place, the cold chill of the abandoned church that they'd been assigned to suddenly feeling like the very least haunting thing he was up against as he stashed his phone back into his pocket. Nothing had gone right since you'd dropped the three of them off. They'd been stuck in the same cathedral for hours and still hadn't found so much as a trace of cursed energy despite how small the area was.

Everyone was getting worn down and frustrated, but they didn't have the luxury of coming back empty-handed. His concern should've been on finding a solution, on checking the place over again to see if there was a hidden door or passageway that they'd somehow missed– something, anything that might lead them to the cursed object they were supposed to find. But instead, the only thought occupying his scattered, sleep-deprived mind was your use of the word "could've". The concise, intentional past-tense bite it had to it.

You were more similar to him than he'd care to admit, clumsy with your words at times and prone to rambling when nervous, but just like him, you never spoke out of turn. You were tactful. Soft-spoken, yet very deliberate when it came to expressing your feelings.

"Could've been" felt like a serrated knife because it was meant to. "Could've been" held the weight of a threat because it was one. "Could've been" implied that you knew something because–

"God, this is a pain in the ass," Kugisaki huffed, rolling a piece of rubble under her shoe as Fushiguro found himself actually pacing the longer he mulled over it. "We've looked damn near everywhere, there's nothing here!"

"Maybe Gojo gave us the wrong coordinates." Itadori shrugged, plopping himself down on one of the concrete pews as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Gojo.

Why did everything in his god-forsaken life have to lead back to Gojo?

You were the only two people at Jujutsu High with everyone else being out on missions– of course he'd tried to talk to you to see how things had been going. Gojo was constantly keeping tabs on him, always poking around to see how he was doing even when it was none of his concern. And you, being you– you'd probably been honest with him, not understanding how consequential your answers were.

The picture had become excruciatingly clear to him, what must've led up to that one single text from you. There was no wishful thinking left, no maybes or what-ifs that could possibly free him from this hell that you were both aware of now. Reality had him in the same chokehold it had you in, its grip just as merciless around his throat too– you knew and the only thing he could do was accept it.

He drew in a sharp breath, running a staggered hand over his face as his footsteps finally came to a pause. "We're withdrawing for now."

Kugisaki's eyes snapped up towards his, a blend of relief and confusion sweeping over her as she blinked back at him. "You sure?"

Fushiguro had never backed down from an assignment. Never tapped out no matter how long or grueling a mission was, but this was different. He could barely focus on anything, could barely keep himself present and coherent let alone concentrate on piecing together the layout of this abandoned building.

He needed to talk to you. Needed to get back to his room as soon as he could. It was the first time in his life that his emotions had managed to overrule his logic. Whatever was here clearly wasn't as threatening as it was thought to be– it could wait, you couldn't.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting you a text to let you know that they were ready as he motioned for Itadori and Kugisaki to follow him.

"We'll come back tomorrow," he reasoned, trying to sound more sure of himself than he actually was, "we can talk to Gojo about it in the morning and reconvene when we have more information, but there's no sense in staying here all night."

He knew neither of them would fight him on the decision, they'd both been practically half-way out the door before he'd even said anything anyway.

He stuffed his hands into his jacket, a sobering gust of late-winter air swirling around him as they stepped outside and started heading towards the cafe that you'd dropped them off at earlier.

Nervousness wasn't a feeling he knew well, but it had become a deep, painful pit in the center of his stomach the closer they got to you. There was so much he had to explain, so many agonizing words that he had to somehow make seem acceptable even though they were anything but.

He hesitated as he reached for the car door, his eyes meeting yours with all the caution in the world before he finally settled into the passenger's seat and gently reached over to rest the palm of his hand on your thigh, almost flinching at the idea of you pushing him away. It was hard to process that you'd somehow become both the cause and the remedy to his distress.

Your voice was even, your composure seemingly in-tact, but the way you looked at him... your glossy, defeated stare told a completely different story than the nonchalant facade you were putting on for your friends.

The ride back was unnervingly calm– you, Itadori, and Kugisaki all chatting back and forth, the volume of the radio getting turned up and down every few minutes depending on the song, Kugisaki's laughter echoing from the backseat at something Itadori had said. He found his grip tightening around your leg in a feeble attempt to stop his racing thoughts while his head rested against the window when the warmth of your hand landed on top of his. Your eyes subtly drifting over to him with more reassurance than he deserved.

His heart was lodged in his throat by the time you pulled into the parking lot, each step feeling more damning than the last as you made your way to the dorms until you'd finally reached the end of the hall. You both waved and said your goodnights to Itadori and Kugisaki before you dug your key out of your hoodie and opened the door, leaving him alone with you and the truths he couldn't possibly say.

It was quiet, the tension in the room absolutely suffocating as you stripped out of your coats and put your uniforms away, dodging glances from each other while changing into your usual sleepwear. He took a seat on the side of his bed, his pulse ringing through his ears as he watched you put your hair up in the mirror.

He could see your apprehension– the internal debate of whether to say something or stay silent. The indecision of retreating back to your bed or his. It was in every movement you made, every small detail of your mannerisms plagued with a sense of uncertainty that made him ache.

He swallowed hard as he reached his hand out to you, "Can you–" He cleared his throat, watching you slowly turn to face him. "Can you come here?"

The same hurt he was feeling was reflected in your gaze, your breathing coming to a visible stop as you struggled to look back at him.

"Please?"

His voice was barely a whisper, wavering and broken but still strong enough to pull you in.

You turned off the light before taking his hand, letting his arms wrap around you as you burrowed yourself into his chest. The familiar scent of him settling your nerves while his lips pressed against the top of your head and his fingertips began drawing soft, hazy patterns along your shoulder. The two of you welcoming the calm silence that followed as you sank further into the safety of one another.

Growing up, you'd never really known if home was supposed to be a place or a feeling. You'd lost it so many years ago, you figured there wasn't much sense in giving significance to a word that didn't belong in your vocabulary anymore anyway, but finally being with him after the day that you'd both had... You quickly realized that maybe it still did exist after all– not as a place or a feeling, but as both. It was here, right inside the small space between you. It was this, the sound of his heart beating steadily against your temple.

It was him and there was going to come a day where you'd wake up without the privilege of even being able to remember the beauty of what you'd lost.

Your chest heaved against your will, tears soaking his shirt as they spilled down your cheeks, the weight of it all becoming far too crippling to bear. Your arms locked around his waist desperately. Hopeless, childlike thoughts suddenly soaring through your mind like– maybe if you held onto him tight enough, you could somehow stay here forever, maybe if you could find the right things to say then time wouldn't have to carry on.

His grasp mirrored yours, holding you as steady as he could while letting out soft little nothings that all bled together, “Shh, it's okay. I've got you." and "Please breathe, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He was dangerously close to his own breaking point too though, the only thing holding him together was the need to be strong for you. His resolve was crumbling, every wall he'd ever built absolutely annihilated by the feeling of your nails digging into his sides as you clung onto him like he was the most important thing in the world.

"I don't–want–" you shook your head at the thought, your words choppy and almost impossible to get out. "I don't... want to– leave you."

He let out a semblance of an exhale, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he guided you down onto the bed with him so that you were both laying down with his arms still wrapped around you and your head back on his chest.

The way you trembled against him as he ran his fingers through your hair was the exact reason why he'd kept all of this hidden in the first place– the same reason why he'd tried so hard to keep his distance from you. This pain would've always been inevitable for him, but it shouldn't have been for you.

He continued to brush away your tears, more reassuring whispers spilling out every so often until your body finally started to relax. Your breathing gradually coming back down to a normal pace while his thumb traced along your neck.

"If it were up to me," he swallowed, forcing his vision to stay pointed up at the ceiling. "Things would be different."

You lifted your head slightly, your eyes roaming over his face as your fingers absentmindedly tangled into the collar of his shirt.

"You'd stay here with me. We'd graduate together." He rested a hand over his forehead to keep himself distracted from the weight of your stare, knowing it was the only way he could the next part out. "But, that's not how this place works– things are rarely good and when they are, they don't last long. There's... a lot– so much you don't know about the contract that's keeping you here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, your shoulders suddenly stiff again as you watched him.

"I haven’t been protecting you because Yaga told me to or because Gojo told me to or even because it was my assignment to... I’ve been protecting you because it's what I promised myself I would do."

It was like looking into a storm over the ocean when his eyes met yours again, graveness mixed guilt. "I need you to listen to me, okay? Really listen to me. This doesn't leave this room. This doesn't leave us."

You gave him a slow nod, chills splintering down your spine as he cupped your face with his hand.

"Yaga's original plan to have you executed didn't necessarily end just because I intervened. All I was able to do was postpone it and have the responsibility of who would carry it out be... transferred."

The air had officially been stolen from your lungs.

"My job? My actual mission when it comes to you? Is to monitor you. To watch you. To see if you'll have any lingering effects after coming into contact with Sukuna's finger as a non-sorcerer. You might as well be a science experiment to Yaga and the other higher-ups.” The disgust in his voice was thick, heavy. “I'm supposed to be the one to make sure nothing goes wrong while you're here. I'm contracted to keep close tabs on you to ensure that if Sukuna takes over Yuuji's body to try and coax information out of you, you aren't able to give it to him..."

It was the first time you'd seen his emotions evolve past his usual irritability or stoicism. He'd finally reached the core of it. The root of all of the negativity that he had bottled up inside of him for so long. It wasn't something as simple as anger or resentment– no, it was... grief that he’d been facing.

"The agreement was never for me to keep you safe, it was for me... to kill you if you became too much of a liability." He could barely look at you, his jaw clenched, the room blurred by tears he wasn't prepared to shed.

"That's why– I leave every night... I got Shoko to tip me off to a healer on the outskirts of Tokyo and we've been... going over different techniques... I've been burying myself in research, trying to figure out–" He paused, more violent waves of shame crashing over him as his thumb continued to lightly trace your jawline. "Trying to figure out the least invasive way to go about this because I– don't want it to... hurt. I want you to be able to keep as many memories as you can. I... want it to be... quick and painless. I– just want you to be... safe. Safe and out of here. That's all I care about."

You were crying again, but this time for both of you, for every single dismal decision that had been made and led to this.

You almost felt selfish for your own feelings, finally seeing the full scope of his. He'd saved you– again and again. And even after managing to find a way to do it one last time, he was still on the losing side of it. He would always be bound to the knowledge of what he'd done to you no matter how much time passed. You'd go on to not remember him, but oh god, would he remember you.

He'd been mourning you since the day you arrived and it'd only been getting worse with each day that he woke up with your body pressed against his. Even when he fought to find solutions, they still came with such a steep price that they ended up feeling like losses in disguise.

Neither side of this was fair. You'd be a late-night what-if that haunted him for the rest of his life and he'd be that place between sleep and awake for you. That confusing, gut-wrenching feeling of waking up and missing someone so immensely only to question if they'd ever really existed or not.

Both of your fates were equally cruel in vastly different ways, but realizing the selflessness behind his plan made something inside of you break. Everything he'd done, all of it, had always been for... you.

His hands were firm and secure against the sides of your face as he guided you up to him, looking back at you with all of the strength he had left.

"You've gotta trust me, okay?" Even through your own tears, you could still seehis too. Just barely pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear like he'd done so many times before only none of it felt the way it should've. "I'll get you out of here. I won't let anything happen to you. But I need you to promise you won't fight me on this because.... it's the only way... we have to be in this together. Please."

Your breathing was staggered, your mind completely overwhelmed by promises you couldn't possibly make but had to. Feelings you absolutely couldn't lose but had to.

"What happens to you?" You faltered. "After all of this is said and done– where will it leave you?"

You couldn't help but think that the somber smile that cut across his face was one of the prettiest and most devasting things you'd ever get to see in your life.

"Doesn't really matter..." he whispered, featherlight touches still trailing across your skin. "I get to know that you're okay and that's enough."

His grip tightened around you, delicately pulling you closer to him until his mouth was grazing yours. "Promise me."

You wouldn't– you wouldn't do this for anyone else in the entire fucking world, and yet, you'd do it... for him. Your voice was shattered, barely audible as you finally agreed.

"Promise."

He rested his forehead rested against yours, taking a moment to soak you in. To share the same space as you. To hold you and know that he didn't have to let go just yet.

"You know, I used to watch you too." he said, lips softly pressing into yours as more tears spilled down your cheeks. "Across from the courtyard– you sat in the very back corner with a book in your hand. I always liked that about you."

You shook your head in disbelief with a half-hearted smile as he kissed you, again and again, more easy little confessions from him slipping out between breaths. Quietly reminiscing while he played with your hair, easing the room back into its usual calm state before he reached for the comforter and wrapped it around the two of you, letting your head nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

He watched you intently as you slowly began to drift off, your words tapering down to incoherent little hums while your body tangled further into his. Exhaustion finally stealing you away. He laid as still as he could, memorizing the ceiling pattern while the sound of your breathing mixed with the snow tapping against the window. The warmth of your skin perfectly contrasting the frigid temperatures outside.

Maybe Gojo had been right after all– because from where he was laying, he really couldn’t imagine any curse or nightmare or hell that was scarier than what he was feeling right now.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next day was a blur.

Ijichi returned back to class– but you didn't, refusing to leave the comfort of Megumi's bed. As much as you both needed to keep up appearances to avoid any more suspicion being tossed his way from the higher-ups, he still didn't fight you when you told him you weren't going. "I just..." you'd hesitated, your body not at all ready to untangle itself from the faux safety of his sheets. "I think I need a day to..."

"I get it." His eyes were just as exhausted and heavy as yours, but he'd still tucked you in anyway, gently wrapping his blanket around your shoulders as his stare lingered over you for a moment. "Don't worry about Ijichi," he said, "I'll tell him you're not coming. Shouldn't be a big deal. Just... try and get some rest."

You'd nodded, a seed of guilt settling into the pit of your stomach for not being able to pull yourself together when you knew he didn't have any other choice. He didn't fault you for it though– instead, he'd kissed the side of your cheek, whispering a soft but impossible, "It's gonna be alright." before smoothing down the collar of his uniform and heading out the door.

All of the progress that you'd made over the last six months– all of the painfully naïve optimism that you'd been clinging onto about finding purpose and normalcy suddenly felt so hollow, cruel almost. If Megumi's plan played out the way it was supposed to, it meant that you had approximately 9 days left until your mind would be permanently altered in ways that you couldn't even begin to let yourself try and comprehend.

You'd decided that you'd return back to class tomorrow– you'd take your meaningless little quizzes on probability and ratios and listen to Ijichi's lectures and do your very best to pretend that it didn't feel like your insides were catching fire with each passing minute. You'd put your best fake smile forward and go through the motions no matter how much of a slow death it felt like, because that's what you promised Megumi you'd do. But until tomorrow came, you weren't leaving his bed for anything.

You drew in a sharp breath, willing to time to stop, even if just for a second as you attempted to declutter your thoughts. Maybe it was a coping mechanism or maybe it was because you were all too aware of the fact that soon, they'd no longer be there, but you couldn't stop yourself from sifting through old memories. Digging through the recesses of your mind like it was an old attic, letting nostalgia crash over you so hard you were almost afraid you wouldn't be able to find your way back to the present.

It started off slow, little snippets and fragments of mid-July air and the sound of your childhood best friend's laughter. Easy things like swing sets and waking up to the smell of fresh-baked bread at your grandma's house, but then you really started to remember the details. The duality and nuances of that house...

You rolled over as you rested your head in your hand, a painful static rippling through your mind.

You'd had to start over so many times in life– from the unexpected death of your parents when you were a kid, to moving into your grandma's house the summer before middle school after she'd gained full custody of you... She'd always been so kind and gentle but also feeble with a slew of health issues surrounding her. You'd been terrified when you'd lost her freshmen year, completely unsure of what your fate would be. You'd managed to avoid foster care though, quietly living in her house alone since it was already paid off. Keeping the utilities and yourself afloat with the small bank account she'd left you with.

"Come by my place after school," you'd never forget how relieved you were when he'd offered his house for that project instead of asking about yours.

Your life had been uprooted more times than you could count, everyone you'd ever loved ended up being torn away from you in the most unexpected and unfair ways imaginable... But even with everything that you'd faced, there was still nothing that could've prepared you for what happened at that party.

Your best friend who went with you... the way she held your hand while the two of you browsed through thrift stores and laughed together. She was the only one back then who really knew your situation...

"Fifteen fatalities have been reported so far, but we're still keeping an eye on it." She was your immediate first thought, yet another part of yourself that you'd lost only this time, it had been your fault. "Usually when something like this happens, the numbers climb more often than they fall."

Your fingers tangled into Megumi's blanket, the smell of him swirling around you as tears streamed down your face. While he may have carried the weight of it differently than you did, he wasn't the only one who had been forced to deal with loss. It'd been a haunting and viciously persistent theme in your life too, one that you were painfully tired of having to accept.

Your head was throbbing, your eyes closing to try and block out the rest of it when a knock at the door forced you back into the room.

"It's me!" Yuuji called out, his voice just as familiar and comforting as it always had been. "Promise I'll be in and out, I just wanted to drop off some curry for you."

You swallowed hard before rubbing a hand over your face to steady yourself. You didn't need a mirror to tell you that you looked like hell, but you still stole a quick glance at yourself anyway as you made your way to the door, cringing at the distraught reflection that stared back at you.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed when you're sick but Fushiguro said that..." The way his face fell as his eyes trailed over you made your stomach drop. "What happened...?"

You shook your head, offering him the most sincere smile you could manage. "Just... a really bad migraine." You shrugged, taking the bag of food from him. "I've been trying to sleep it off, I'll be alright."

You knew he didn't believe you.

“A migraine?”

"Yeah, they come out of nowhere sometimes." You nodded, a tidal wave of guilt washing over you for so blatantly lying to him. “I should be okay by tomorrow. It's really not a big deal."

"Right..." He hesitated, doing his best to map out his words. “Well, you know that if you’re not okay tomorrow… or the day after that… you can talk to me, right?”

The only thing you could do was nod again, the lump in your throat threatening to break as you fought the overwhelming urge to grab his wrist and ask him to sit with you. To tell him how much you were going to miss him. To tell him how much he and Nobara meant to you. To tell him that even if you didn't remember them, they'd always be a part of your heart... But you couldn't, you couldn't say hardly anything between the weight of his concern and Megumi's secret.  

He waited another few seconds, his apprehension to leave you alone palpable. But when you didn't say anything else, he finally took a step back. “Just... get to feeling better, okay?"

You nodded again, your voice catching as you said, “I will."

He shot you a faint smile and you did your best to return it before he disappeared back down the hall towards the sound of Nobara's voice. "She okay?" You heard her ask as you closed the door.

Everything in your life had always been fleeting and temporary but knowing that they were too was a level of a pain that you weren't ready to face. Your hands shook as you set the bag of curry down on the nightstand and fell back into Megumi's bed, curling into yourself as a sob racked through your body without warning.

You'd experienced more grief than you could ever put into words, and still, nothing had ever hurt quite like this.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's footsteps were light when he returned, his movements cautious as he approached you, glancing over at the untouched food by his bed.

He ran a gentle hand along your back, trying his best to keep you comfortable despite the selfish part of him that wanted to wake you up and bury his head into your chest after a long day.

You shifted, your hand instinctively reaching out for his as your eyes started to open, your surroundings still a blur. It was later than you'd anticipated it being, the moon just barely lighting up his side of the room. 

"You should eat," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing patterns into the inside of your palm.

"I know." You winced, your stomach burning at the thought. "I just... can't right now."

A blend of understanding and worry flickered through his stare as he pressed a light kiss onto the top of your hand. It wasn't like he'd necessarily been taking the best care of himself either the last few weeks.

He kicked off his shoes, stripping down into a t-shirt and boxers before laying down with you, the warmth of your body settling over him in a way he didn't realize he needed until he had it again.

A small smile crept across your face as he nestled into you, his tired arms wrapping around your waist while your fingers threaded through his hair, your nails just barely grazing his scalp. His legs were cold against yours, the sobering smell of winter air and pine filling the space between you.

You stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the sound of his breathing as it gradually began to sync with yours. It was rare that he clung to you like this, but it never failed to make you feel safe, like the rest of the world couldn't touch you as long as he was near you. 

The thought was soft when it first entered your mind, deceptively dreamy and trancelike with the way it had flowed in so easily. It was warmth, comfort, and... panic.

Your pulse quickened as the sentence echoed through your mind again, louder this time. Three words that you couldn’t possibly let yourself hold onto. Three words that represented everything you were losing. The feeling shifted from something gentle and manageable to sharp and serrated as it started to press against your ribs, demanding space you couldn’t afford to give it. Your fingers stilled in his hair, another rush of static and tears suddenly clouding your vision.

“Hey.”

His voice was low and steady as it cut through the haze, his hand brushing against your side. He propped himself up, tentatively hovering above you while his eyes searched yours. He could feel your heart racing, the way it was practically trying to beat through your chest.

"Breathe for me, okay?" He reached for your hand, but you could barely register it, a haze of anxiety replacing reality as your surroundings began to blur together.

You grabbed the side of your head, desperately closing your eyes to try and escape it, but the static in your mind only continued to spread. The room faded in and out, the edges of his face blurring together as the panic attack swept over you with vengeance. All of the things you wanted to say but couldn't. All of the feelings that you'd tried to bury but couldn't– they were all right there, right at the forefront of the storm.

Your fingers tangled into the fabric of Megumi's shirt, his face just inches apart from yours. He was still talking, still trying to keep you steady, but it wasn't working. There was a deafening ringing in your ears. A sea of scattered thoughts and displaced emotions crashing down around you. And then–

Nothing.

The static had somehow lifted, the suffocating wave of fear dying down. Your panic gradually replaced by what felt like an impossible stillness as he continued to hold you.

"Hey," the franticness in his voice was something you'd never heard before. "Look at me. Please, just–"

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, your vision clearing as you let the hand that you had pressed to your forehead fall back down to your side. 

The relief he felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by something else entirely as you froze again, your gaze locking onto something over his shoulder. 

You thought they were shadows at first– the type of looming figures that you'd see out of the corner of your eye when you'd been up for too long. The ones that would disappear with a simple blink, but the two sets of glowing eyes staring back at you were only becoming more and more visible the longer you looked at them.

Your head tilted slightly, taking in the mix of black and white fur, the matching red markings that decorated their foreheads before the smaller one took a step towards you, its movements gentle but seemingly protective as it laid beside you at the edge of the bed.

Megumi shifted, his shoulders visibly stiffening as he watched your reaction– the way your eyes carefully drifted over the Shikigami next to you. He drew in a sharp breath, keeping his tone as even as he could despite his own fears rising, realizing what this meant.

“You can see them... can’t you?”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The sun had just started to creep in through the blinds, but Megumi hadn't slept at all. He laid with his eyes closed and his mind racing for the better part of the night, tracing delicate patterns along your skin any time you'd start to stir.

"It's more common than you'd think," Gojo said as they walked across the training field, the August sun beating down on both of them. "Negativity takes on all kinds of different forms, it's not always as black and white as we make it out to be."

Megumi had shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes pointed down at the track as they made their way past two first-years struggling to land a hit on each other. "But if curses only become visible when someone's on the brink of death, then why –"

"That's not the only time it happens." Gojo interjected, "There are exceptions, just like anything else. All it takes is for enough grief and despair to hit someone at just the right frequency and..." He snapped his fingers, pulling Megumi's attention towards him again. "A non-sorcerer would be able to start seeing things they shouldn't– curses, residuals, it would all become visible to them."

Megumi's pace slowed, his brows furrowing the longer he thought about it. "And you think that's what happened to him?" He finally asked, "You think he just... spiraled so hard that he stumbled into this world by accident?"

"More or less." Gojo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "Look, Junpei was a perfect example of what can happen when all the wrongs things line up exactly at the right time. All that bullying, that isolation, losing his mom– his entire life was one long string of pain and anger. That much negativity? It doesn’t usually just sit quietly. It festers. And in his case, it built up to the point where it broke through the usual barriers."

Megumi paused, trying but failing to block out how hard Yuuji had taken his death over the last month. "And cases like him– exceptions like Junpei are... common?"

Gojo's smirk faltered, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent slightly to meet his gaze. "All I'm saying is that they're not unheard of. Even the strongest people have their limits."

The memory had replayed itself so many times he could barely distinguish the present from nostalgia by the time you woke up next to him. He'd known that he was on borrowed time from the moment you'd arrived, but now... even that was gone.

His grip on you was light but firm as you started to stretch your legs, your eyes barely having the chance to open before your own thoughts began to spiral. No matter how much he tried to keep you calm, the demon dogs staring back at you were a solid reminder of where the two of you stood.

"We have to go... tonight, don't we?"

The silence that followed made your chest tighten, your hand shaking as your fingertips dug into the side of his arm. You drew in a breath before nodding in defeat, sparing him from having to be the one to say it.

You knew the second it had happened that this was what was coming, but there was still something so unexplainably damning about how it felt settling over the two of you. This was the last morning you’d wake up beside him. The last time you’d get to see him like this– soft and unguarded in ways no one else would ever know.

Your lips parted with those three words still desperately clinging to the tip of your tongue, but you managed to swallow them down, refusing to make things worse than they already were. It was the second time in only a few short minutes that you'd been the one to spare him.

His hand caught yours, your quiet acceptance hitting you both in steady but unrelenting waves as you laid together, your feelings embedded into every touch and every movement you made. It was tangible, absolutely everywhere in the space between you, and maybe… that was enough.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The hours went by like minutes, a heavy sense of finality and dread clinging onto even the most mundane things– from the way it felt to help Megumi with the buttons on his uniform while the two of you got ready together to the car ride where you'd had to take him, Yuuji, and Nobara back to the same church that they'd failed their previous mission at. It was all painfully familiar and foreign at once.

You were digging mental graves for friends that were still very much alive. Glancing over at Yuuji with a small smile as he leaned up to the front of the car to make sure you were actually feeling better. Knowing that this was your last day with him and having to push down the grief of not being able to give him or Nobara a proper goodbye. Kissing Megumi– really kissing him before you left and trying not to break down at the way his eyes lingered on you as you drove off. Every interaction you had was somehow more futile than the last and yet, you had no choice but to endure it.

By the time you reached Ijichi, you were more than ready to take a seat and tune out the rest of the world with one of his infamously dry lectures, but even his monotone voice and horrible puns were finding ways to tug at your heartstrings. Your mind wandered back to your first week with him– how welcome he'd made you feel without even meaning to. His classroom had always felt like more of a reprieve than a punishment, a quiet comfort amongst the chaos.

You shook your head, fighting past the tears that were threatening to spill over as you busied yourself with one of the ratio equations he had on the whiteboard when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You swallowed hard, watching his name flash across screen before getting up and promptly making your way out into the hall.

He'd never called on you while on a mission.

"Hey," you exhaled, "is everything–"

"We found a special grade curse." He said breathlessly, "Nobara– she's alright, but I need you to come get her and take her back to Shoko."

The phone nearly slipped from your hand, the loud, piercing background noise coupled with Yuuji's panicked, 'Fushiguro!' made your heart feel like it was going to stop altogether.

You looked back at Ijichi from over your shoulder as Megumi continued talking, giving you instructions on what to do when you got there, but your focus was suddenly everywhere else.

"Gojo..." You hesitated, "Do you want me to bring him? Just in case–"

"No," his voice was sharp, leaving little room for protest. "No, Itadori and I can handle it, I just need you to come get her, okay?"

You hated the knot that had formed in your stomach, the nervousness that danced through your veins as you reluctantly agreed, telling him you'd be there as soon as you could.

When working as an assistant, sorcerers are always to take top priority regardless of the situation, it was one of the first lessons he'd gone over with you, though neither one of you had any way of knowing at the time that you'd one day be using it against him...

You zipped up your coat, shaking away the thought as you headed down the faculty stairs and dug your set of keys out of your pocket. You didn't have time for remorse– not now, and not when the lies you’d told would be forgotten by the end of the night anyway.

The cold air nipped at your face, snow still blowing haphazardly across the parking lot as you climbed into the driver's seat, overwhelmed and completely unaware of the set of eyes that had been following you since you'd left Ijichi's classroom.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The drive there was a blur, your mind flooding with nothing but worse-case scenarios and scattered images of Nobara laughing and holding your hand as the two of you walked down the hallway together.

Knowing that she was hurt... knowing that she needed a healer while also not knowing the extent of her injuries amidst the stress of everything else you were already facing had your foot heavy on the gas pedal, your car slightly shaking from the gravel road you were on.

The city lights had vanished a few miles back, the grey overcast not helping your case as you struggled to make out buildings in the late January haze of snow and poorly marked country roads. You weren't sure if it was relief or more dread that swirled through your stomach when your GPS started to chime, but it was too late to let yourself indulge in either.

Your throat tightened when you finally spotted it– an old worn-down cathedral in the middle of a seemingly empty field, surrounded by fresh debris and rubble that only made your anxiety swell. It was the first time you'd ever been to actual pick-up spot. The first time you'd been exposed to the things that Megumi had tried so hard to keep you sheltered from.

You peered through the icy windshield, searching but failing to find any sign of her. "She'll be out front waiting for you when you get here so just stay in the car." He'd said, "She'll come to you, okay?" Even after you'd agreed though, he still repeated it back with an unnerving amount of conviction laced into his words. "Promise me– you won't get out of the car."

Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone and began dialing his number, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out just how wrong all of this felt. Each unanswered ring seemed to drag by slower than the last, your pulse thrumming through your ears by the time his voicemail echoed through the receiver.

You'd done everything that he'd asked and so much more. You'd kept his secrets. You'd protected him. You'd lied for him. You'd cared for him in more ways than you could ever bring yourself to say aloud. But this was one promise you were quickly realizing you wouldn't be able to keep as you watched a familiar thick, black smog seep out through the cracks in the boarded-up windows of the church. Another powerful thud reverberating with such intensity that it shook the ground beneath you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, though you weren't sure if you were saying it to him or yourself as you reached for the door handle.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Your breathing came to a halt the moment that your feet hit the ground. The air was impossibly dense, contaminated with a thick layer of smoke that seemed to tangle around your limbs the closer you got to the entrance.

You could practically hear Megumi's voice screaming at you to turn around, but you forced yourself to push past it as you approached the edge of the broken stone staircase, redirecting your focus on where and where not to step.

The entryway was completely shattered, the heavy wooden doors splintered and hanging off of their hinges. You held your breath as you squeezed your way through a small opening, doing everything you could to keep yourself steady despite the trail of fog that seemed to follow you.

Your pace was meticulous, each movement calculated while you navigated your way through the wreckage. It wasn't until you saw the faint waves of light flashing through the darkness that you froze. Your eyes snapped towards the back of the church, watching in quiet horror as the unmistakable hum of cursed energy exploded across the room in bursts.

You were stuck somewhere between fight or flight– your legs carrying you with agility you didn't even know you had as you broke into a sprint. You ducked, taking cover behind one of the destroyed pillars, just narrowly dodging a support beam that came crashing down when a hand suddenly reached out for you.

"'The hell were you thinking–" she coughed, her voice still maintaining its usual firmness despite how feeble it was. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"Nobara," you breathed, your hand cupped her face to wipe away the red rolling down her cheek. Her body was lax, slumped against the remains of a wooden pew with blood dripping from her hairline down to her chin.

Your insides felt like they were on fire, adrenaline flooding your system quicker than you could keep up with as you scanned the area for the most manageable way out before looking back at her. "I'm not leaving you here." You promised, your body acting faster than your brain as you reached for her arm and slung it over your shoulder.

"Are you insane? You can't just–"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" The question was sharp enough to slice through the tension, time seeming to stop even if only for a second when her eyes met yours.

"Of course I would." She conceded, slowly lifting herself up as she leaned on you for support. "Megumi's gonna... kill you though."

It was one of the first time you'd really smiled in the last three days. "I think I'll be alright."

The calm was momentary though, another amethyst-colored beam tearing through the air. "Hold onto me." You said, tightening your grip around her waist.

Shattered stone cascaded around the two of you, your breath catching in your throat as the cursed energy spiked again, sharper and heavier than before. It almost felt alive with way it twisted around your legs– that same fear, that same dread from the night Megumi had saved you creeping over you once more. The burning sensation seeped into your pores the higher up it climbed, rooting itself into your chest.

Your movements were strained, each step forward nearly knocking the wind out of you as you shielded Nobara from more falling debris, both of you crouching behind an abandoned altar.

The entrance was just within your reach if you could manage to keep yourself upright and steady, the light from the outside barely grazing the edge of the corridor. Right as you shifted your weight to stand though– a low, guttural growl reverberated across the floor sending another wave what felt like rogue electricity beneath your skin.

"Fuck," you hissed, your vision becoming blurry as you fought to keep your focus.

"Leave me here," Nobara insisted, trying but failing to shake you off of her. "Look, Yuuji's right over there, he can grab me when he–"

But her demands came to an abrupt end as the two of you became frozen in place, the curse emerging from the shadows to reveal a series of vine-like limbs and skin that resembled ancient bark. The size of it alone was enough to make your heart forget how to beat, but the second its eyes landed on you, the earth seemed to still entirely.

"What the–" Megumi's voice broke through the chaos, the weight of his stare crippling when he spotted you from across the room, his frustration and concern palpable even from where he was standing.

"Go!" He shouted, another Shikigami already forming in front of him.

The figure tilted its head as if it were studying you, the pressure of its gaze pinning you to the floor. It wasn’t just fear this time– it was something deeper, almost primal that wrapped around your spine and pulled tight as the taunting hum of its cursed energy crackled into the space between you. Its floral patterns glowing faintly in the dim light with its vines curling and writhing carefully towards you.

“Why do you fight so hard to protect something so fleeting?”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi stiffened, his hands stretched out in front of him like weapon as Nuu lunged toward the curse, but he wasn't even able make it halfway to you before a branch-like limb sprawled out and slammed the demon dog into the ground with a force that shook the foundation of the already crumbling building.

Your head felt like it was going to explode, your thoughts and emotions bleeding into each other all at once as its question repeated on an unwanted loop.

Fleeting.

“Listen to me!” Nobara’s voice suddenly felt distant, blurred by an odd sense of clarity that had started to wash over you. “Leave me here. You have to go!”

It was right– your life had been made up of nothing more than fleeting contentment and memories that weren't made to last. The things that you were trying so hard to fight for would be gone by tomorrow, just like everything else, but they were here now and so were you. If this had to be your last day with them– if losing Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara was truly inevitable no matter what choice you made, then you'd do everything you could to protect them.

“No,” you said, the word falling from your lips before you even realized it. “I told you I’m not leaving you.”

The curse moved again, swift but intentional, closing the distance between you while its vines began to thrash, leaving more broken concrete beneath its force. Megumi yelled your name, his expression dropping as he watched the somber smile that cut across your face when your eyes met his.

"Don't!" He warned, his hands cast backout in front of him, but your mind was already made up.

You secured your grip on Nobara, forcing her to lean more heavily on you while you dragged her a few steps closer to the fragmented remains of the entrance. You were so close– just a few more feet and you could hand her off to Yuuji, who was locked in a struggle of his own ahead of you.

But close wasn’t enough.

The energy in the room surged again, its presence suddenly suffocating and absolutely everywhere as thick, sharp tendrils snared around your legs. Your body felt like it had caught fire, the white-hot heat of its touch making your vision flicker in and out as it started to pull you backward, Nobara's weight shifting dangerously against you.

Your jaw clenched, your ears ringing as you fought to garner up every ounce of strength you had left to push forward. You were desperate, every step seeming to tear something essential out of you, but still, you moved.

Another blinding wave of pain hit you– the curse’s vines snapping again, just barely missing your head as they shattered another fixture above you. It was a storm of debris and splintered wood, making it hard to tell where its limbs began and the church's destruction ended.

“Yuuji!” you screamed, your voice raw as your stare caught his. “Take her!"

He was stunned, too worn-down and short on time to argue with you.

Your adrenaline was exhausted, every part of your body ready and willing to collapse, but with one final push, you managed to shove Nobara toward the faint light spilling out through the ruined entryway.

She staggered, her legs barely holding her as Yuuji lunged forward, catching her in his arms right before she fell. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to really breathe since you'd found her, a warm sense of relief cutting through the pain.

But it didn't take long for it to vanish, the crushing reality of the curse now looming over you suddenly outweighing any amount of comfort you'd once had.

Its grip coiled tighter around your legs, your body going limp as it dragged you back once more. There was static in your veins, an overwhelming pressure pushing down on your ribs, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

This was it.

The background commotion slowly tapered down, your senses gradually disconnecting from your body as the chappel started to drift further and further away. A surreal sense of acceptance wrapped around you like a warm hug. No more fighting, no more flailing– it was just you and the comfortable abyss that you were sinking into. Just you and the memories that you were able to keep until the very end. If you had to die in one way or another tonight, at least you were able to do it knowing that you had spared him one last time.

There was a distorted fluttering feeling in your chest. A dizziness in your brain. A hazy montage of impossibly blue eyes and all the things you should've said.

And then,

it all,

faded,

to black...

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's head was throbbing when his eyes finally opened again, his stomach still in knots as he blinked back tears, trying to piece together where he’d ended up. He was sprawled out on a familiar grey leather couch with a knit blanket carefully tucked over him. The rigid winter air only amplifying his headache as it knocked against the window of his office.

“'Bout time you woke up."

His mind was overrun with the fractured pieces of what had happened, sensations and memories coming back in painful waves: The leveled church. The sound of glass shattering as he channeled his domain expansion. The feeling of your body pressed against his before everything vanished…

“Where’s..." The panic he felt was all-consuming, time coming to a grinding halt when he realized that he was the only one recovering. “Where is she...?"

Gojo's smirk was nowhere to be found, his stare softening a bit as he took a step towards him. "I talked to Shoko,"

"– And?" Megumi demanded.

"She told me about your sudden interest in Kokoro Kiri," his tone was light despite how pointed his words were, "Usually used for memory manipulation and soul severing, right? Causes the victim to forget specific people and events?"

"You know that's not what I meant–" Megumi snapped, "Is she...?" His face was flushed, his nerves completely shot as he struggled to swallow down the rest of his question. "Look, I don't care what happens to me after this, I'll take whatever punishment the higher-ups decide on, but I need to know what happened to her. Please, just..."

Gojo's demeanor was eerily calm, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent down to become eye-level with him.

"If I had to guess," he paused, "She's probably still asleep."

Megumi's lips parted but the only thing that came out was a jagged exhale, his breathing coming out in short, choppy intervals. "So she's..." His head was spinning, relief and fear both clinging onto him at once. "She's okay, then? I mean, she's not...?"

"She's got some pretty deep cuts on her legs– probably gonna end up with a scar or two once she's fully healed, but other than that," A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched the life slowly return back to Megumi's eyes. "She's alright."

The tone of the room shifted into something more manageable despite the multitude of other unanswered questions that still sat between them. Megumi's hands shook slightly as he ran them over his face, images of the ruins he'd left behind coming back in flashes.

"You took down a special grade curse by yourself before I got there," Gojo said, almost sounding proud as he took a seat next to him. "I still had to clean up the aftermath of course, but..."

His stare lingered on him for a moment, the amusement in his tone fading, "She must be pretty important to you, huh? Making you tap into your full potential like that?"

Megumi hesitated, his gaze drifting to the floor as he nodded, remembering a brief conversation they'd had last year during a training session. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, "she is."

"You could've asked me for help, you know." Gojo shifted in his seat, letting out his own sigh while he rested his chin in his hands. "You should've asked me for help. You've gotta quit thinking that you can handle everything by yourself."

Megumi's jaw tightened, his words hanging heavily between them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gojo pressed, tilting his head at him as their eyes met again. "About the details of your contract? About the healer you've been seeing? Do you have any idea how bad that could've ended for you? For both of you, if you would've gone through with it?"

"I thought you already knew," Megumi bit back, exasperated by the fact that he was even asking in the first place. "You were there the night that I brought her back– you met me in Yaga's office after the negotiation was finalized."

Gojo looked back at him incredulously, "You honestly thought that I'd let you take on that kind of burden? From the higher-ups no less?"

His head was pounding, his thoughts clouded by an unnerving mix of exhaustion and guilt. "Yaga's never done anything in regard to me without running it by you first, even some of my missions get sent to you for approval, so why the hell would this have been any different?"

"Because you're an adult now." Gojo said simply, the gravity of his sentiment strong enough to break down Megumi's defense. "I didn't ask Yaga anything about your contract because I wanted it to be something that you handled on your own. I just figured you'd be smart enough to let me know if something went wrong."

The walls of his office felt like they were closing in on him as all of the resentment and pain that he'd been grappling with for the last five months suddenly came circling back to the true source of their existence– him. It was never you or Gojo or anyone else that had complicated his life this much, it was his own stubbornness. His refusal to accept help and admit defeat.

"I..." He faltered, his brows furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions at bay. "I'm sorry. You're right, I should've told you. I should've known when it was too much to take on alone..."

Gojo's expression softened slightly, his shoulder gently nudging his.

"Hey," He soothed, knowing better than anyone that getting an apology from Megumi– a sincere one, at that, meant something. "Growing pains are a part of life– this isn't your first and it won't be your last, but it's what makes us human. Sometimes lessons have to be hard to be remembered." 

Megumi was quiet as he took in his words, letting the familiar sense of solace have its moment.   

"Don't beat yourself up over it too much though, alright?" Gojo mused as he leaned back, lazily stretching his hands behind his head. "Your face is rough enough as is and I hear there's a cute girl waiting for you down in Shoko's office."

A small smile crept across Megumi's face as he nodded before getting to his feet.

"Oh and– and Megumi? One last thing."

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked back at him from over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"We can go over the details later when you're not so," he gestured vaguely towards his tattered appearance, "Half-dead," he said flippantly, "But she's staying just so you know. No strings attached other than her maintaining her cover story while she's here, but aside from that, the contract is null and void– for both of you."

He froze, his pupils doubling in size as he stared back at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

"10 million yen and a few offhanded threats tend to go a long way in the sorcerer world." He shrugged. "That, and the fact that we'll have her as an assistant once she graduates. Continuing to room with her is optional, but–" His smirk returned with playful ease. "I figured you wouldn't be in a hurry to kick her out just yet."

There was a part of him that was afraid if he blinked for too long, he'd wake up slumped against a rutted pillar with nothing but debris and ash surrounding him again. His throat tightened, trying his best to ground himself as he hesitated at the doorway.

"Thank you, Gojo." He finally managed. "For everything."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next few days were a blur of pain medication, sleep, and holding Megumi's hand as he dozed off in the armchair next to you. He would end up in what looked like the most uncomfortable pretzel-like positions, but he still refused to leave your side no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to go back to the dorm instead.

Aside from the occasional injured first-year that would wander in every so often, the medical ward was strangely peaceful. Your mornings were spent listening to Shoko explain various healing techniques while redressing the bandages on your legs. Checking to make sure that your body was responding to treatment the way it was supposed to while Megumi watched intently, taking mental notes for himself just in case he'd need them later.

Your afternoons were filled with visitors after word got out about how you'd sacrificed yourself to save Nobara against –what you'd later learned from Gojo– was a curse named Hanami. She was still recovering too, but her healing process had been a lot more sped-up than yours with her body being more acclimated to the effects of cursed energy. Yuuji brought you fresh flowers every day– big, well-thought arrangements with all of your favorite colors. "You'll tell her that these are from me, right?" He'd tease Megumi. "Don't want you takin' credit for my hard work."

While you knew that Gojo had managed to revoke the terms of your contract, the weight of it still hadn't fully left you. There were nights that you'd wake up in cold sweats, tears streaming down your face as you'd find yourself frantically reaching out for Megumi's hand. "I'm here," he'd whisper, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't until you'd been released and the two of you were finally back in your room that things actually started to feel somewhat solidified. There wasn't the same looming sense of dread that used to follow you. There wasn't the constant weight of abandonment clawing at your chest.

There was just him and the way his hands felt grazing your jawline as he kissed you. The way that he tried so hard to be so delicate with you despite the pent-up fire behind his stare every time he touched you.

"Megumi," you breathed, pulling him closer as the morning sun began to seep in from the window. "I'm not made of glass." You reminded him, your fingers tangling into his hair.

HIs hands were still lingering on your waist, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked back at you through heavy lashes. "You'll tell me if it's too much?"

There was something about the care in his eyes, the way he always put you first, even when his own restraint was clearly hanging on by a thread. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you nodded. "Promise."

His grip on you tightened, the palm of his hand warm against the side of your neck before his tongue parted your lips again.

You could feel the shift of him starting to let go, the way his hand roamed from your neck to your lower back with his movements becoming more and more fervent. Breathy little noises filling the space between you while he helped you out of your shorts and tossed them to the side of his bed.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes tentatively trailing over you as he lined himself up with your entrance. It was the very last wall he had left, one that he never thought he'd be able to fully tear down until now.

He couldn't stop the low moan that escaped him as he slid into you, watching how your pupils dilated as you looked back at him with trust that he still wasn't sure he deserved. The words were right there, right where they'd always been, steady and terrifyingly honest.

He drew in a breath, letting himself sink into you, noting the way your body held him tighter the further he went. It had always been you. His hand shook slightly, using his thumb to tilt your head up towards his while his hips met yours with the same deep, consuming pace. It would always be you.

His lips parted, his mind slipping as he finally let go completely and buried everything he had in you,

"I love you."

It was soft but impossibly sure as it brushed across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth you didn't even know existed in its wake. There was suddenly no such thing as holding back– not the tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes or the feelings that you'd tried so hard to control for the last six months. He was everywhere, embedded into every single part of you.

It settled over your chest, opening up like a floodgate once it began– "I love you." you breathed, your nails digging into his neck."I love you." you whimpered again as your back arched beneath him. "I love you." he panted, his hands firm against your hips as your walls began to unravel around him. "I love you." you cried, letting yourself fall apart for him entirely.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[doumadono]

Doumadono's 6k followers event

How more than 6,000 of you wonderful people enjoy this odd little corner of the internet is beyond me, but I’m so incredibly grateful! I’m absolutely floored by how my quirky little blog has grown over the past two years. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for following, liking, reblogging, and just being here! 🥺💖

To make this celebration extra special and funny, I need your help! I’ve come up with several ideas for the event, and I’ve decided to let you vote for your favorite. Based on the most votes, one or max two options (if I manage to find enough spare time) will be selected. You can find all the details about each option below the cut - read the descriptions and vote for your favorite! Don’t forget to reblog to help spread the word!

Feel free to send your prompts and ideas for the event through my inbox, DMs, or by commenting on this post. Please note that only prompts from the top two winning celebration ideas will be filled. However, I reserve the right to write additional pieces if a particular prompt inspires me!

The event will run from 13th January to 19th January, during which I’ll post works created specifically for this celebration. If needed, the event will have a separate masterlist, and all works will be tagged with #doumadono’s 6k celebration ♡

NOTE: this time, the event will be exclusively dedicated to My Hero Academia

Hero vs. Villain Alphabet Explore the fascinating contrasts between heroes and villains with this thematic alphabet series. Each letter represents a unique trait or scenario (e.g., A for Affection, B for Bravery), showcasing how heroes and villains approach the same concept in wildly different ways

NSFW Alphabet Ready for something sultry? Each letter of the alphabet will explore a smutty theme, tailored to the characters you love

Mission Gone Wrong What happens when things don’t go as planned? Whether it’s heroes on a botched rescue mission or villains navigating a difficult heist, this fics/drabbles will dive into thrilling, emotional, or even humorous scenarios

Villains’ Secret Files Ever wondered what your favorite villains are hiding? This event will uncover their secrets — fascinations, hidden fears, guilty pleasures, or even their most embarrassing moments. A mix of serious and lighthearted insights into the League of Villains and beyond ♡

Heroes’ Secret Files Heroes have secrets too! From their personal struggles to surprising traits they’d rather keep hidden, these scenarios offers a behind-the-scenes look at the pro heroes and students we all adore. Expect heartfelt, humorous, and inspiring revelations ♡

What If? Dive into little drabbles with scenarios where roles are reversed, quirks are swapped, or the world is entirely different. What if Dabi became a hero? What if Deku joined the League?

Blindfolded Requests (NSFW) You can submit completely blind prompts — just a single word or phrase. I'll choose the character and write a surprise drabble based on their vibe. Example requests could include words like tension, obsession, submission, etc.

Fairy Tales Reimagine classic fairy tales featuring My Hero Academia characters in exciting and heartwarming ways, f.e. Beauty and the Beast (with Shigaraki): a tale of finding humanity and vulnerability within someone feared.

[distant-velleity]

Happy New Year!

abdbskdhs okay so i dont like to get sentimental but— Even though i was really inactive for a solid few months a while back, and i dont interact with people a whole lot, and im generally not a pleasant person to get to know, thank you all for supporting me throughout 2024 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

its been something of a rough year IRL for me, it still kind of is, but ive been glad to have a relatively safe space to come back to when life is too much, whether i go talk w/ people on discord or post on here— thank you guys for every reblog, every ask, etc. !!!!

it TECHNICALLY isnt even 2025 for me yet, its only around 7 PM as im posting this— but since for a lot of you it already is the new year, i decided id be nice and post this early (*´∇｀*)

very short pre-relationship floyu fic under the cut !

~

Omikuji

大凶 Great Curse

“A…Ah.”

Yuhua laughed softly in disbelief. Of course, of all the fortunes he could have drawn, it had to be the least likely and the most ominous. He’d been hoping for an average “small curse,” maybe… but his luck was never this bad, was it? If the probability of drawing good luck was higher than bad luck—then, what were the chances of drawing the worst luck?

“What a joke. And this is my only fortune for the whole year…”

There was no re-drawing omikuji—Yuhua resigned himself to his fate. 

“It’s just a prediction, anyway,” he murmured, fiddling with the slip. “It can’t do anything to me… If I stay a skeptic, I’ll be immune…”

Despite his attempts at convincing himself to stay unaffected, he still felt his spirits sink significantly. What did it say about his future, if his very first day of the year was off to such a poor start?

“Haa… What could be worse luck than what I’ve already gone through since coming here?”

Nearly dying (several times), breaking a leg, being kicked out of his place of residence, getting flung across the desert…

…there were worse things. He was almost definitely jinxing himself.

Fervently, Yuhua shook his head, as if that could somehow erase his thoughts. “That was just one instance of bad luck,” he insisted to himself under his breath. “Something good will happen to me next—”

“What’re you muttering about over here, Koi-chan?” 

“Gah—” Yuhua nearly jumped out of his skin; he felt a familiar eel’s chin come to rest upon the top of his head. “F-Floyd?”

Floyd hummed his confirmation. “Didja draw a fortune already?”

“Uh… Yeah.”

“Lemme see.”

“I’m not sure if you’d really want to see— …well, you wouldn’t care anyway.” Hesitantly, Yuhua unfolded his slip of paper for Floyd to look at the top. “Great Curse. You?”

“Yiiikes.” Floyd whistled. “I got a Curse to come. Your luck must suck, Koi-chan~”

“...no need to remind me.”

“But that’s okay!” continued Floyd, undeterred and cheerful. He hooked an arm around Yuhua’s shoulders in a half-hug. “You’re not gonna let it stop you, right? Let’s go tie ‘em up.”

“Oh—Uh—” 

The whirlwind that was Floyd Leech had already caught Yuhua in its grasp. He blinked, emerging from his almost depressive trance. 

It really was as simple as that, wasn’t it?

“...Yeah,” he agreed, letting himself smile. “Sure. Let’s go.”

~

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @scint1llat3 @nyx-of-night @nemisisnemi

@sillyslipperybananapeel @beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @lumdays @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

@taruruchi @oya-oya-okay

[illiterateaffairs]

anything can happen | stiles x reader the holiday au

pairing: stiles stilinski x female!reader

word count: 13,365

warnings: language, smooching, parenental death mentioned, the reader being british but just for the sake of the plot,

summary: inspired by the nancy meyers film "the holiday", you swap homes with someone in beacon hills for the christmas season where you get to know your neighbor the sheriff, and his very cute son.

author's note: happy new year my friends!! this is my little gift for everyone, an idea i've wanted to do in some way for so many years based on the what i think is the best holiday film ever made. as mentioned, the reader is british for the plot because iykyk. this is also a "companion" fic with a jamie x reader story i'm working on thats the reverse. so you don't have to read that if you're just more of a stiles fan BUT it is meant to overlap slightly like the movie. so the reader may or may not know the richmond greyhounds ;) PLS LIKE REBLOG AND COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS <3

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ low point ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You weren’t one for spontaneity or going outside your comfort zone.

No. You stuck to what you knew. 

The same town. The same job. The same wardrobe. 

The same guy.

That one was your biggest problem. Despite nearly a decade of back and forth with the boy you’ve loved since high school, and the fact he cheated on you not once, but twice, you couldn’t shake him.

Hell, you even stayed friends with him for some reason you chalked up to nostalgia and for old time’s sake. 

All that did was just lead you into a false sense of security and worse…hope. 

Hope that was once again dashed merely a week before Christmas when you found out he was engaged - to the second girl he cheated on you with less than two years ago. 

You were letting yourself wallow in self pity for the weekend when you got a message on the home exchange website you put your modern Richmond townhome up on after a tipsy dare from your friend (sometimes with benefits when you were at your lowest). It was a woman inquiring if your home would be available for the next 2 weeks over the holidays. 

You glanced around. Your job in journalism allowed you to work from anywhere. You were on your own since you lost your father in college. You definitely had no romantic prospects keeping you here. So, what the hell?

After taking one large sip of Vino, you were agreeing to the exchange without even comprehending where you would be going. 

Lucky for you, when you came to, you were delighted at the prospect of spending the holidays in California, USA. And also terrified at being on your own in a foreign country for the first time in your lonely, sheltered, horrible life. Well…when in Rome, or…Beacon Hills?

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ not the leading lady ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Less than two days later, given the nearly 12 hour flight to San Francisco, you were arriving in California dressed far too warm for December on the American West Coast. Donned in your wool coat and scarf, the Uber driver chuckled at you as you slid in the the back of his car, but you didn’t take it offensively. She even went ahead and lowered the windows for you so you could take in the California air and sights as she drove you out of the city into the quaint and admittedly mysterious town of Beacon Hills. 

Upon your research the night before leaving, Beacon Hills wasn’t known for being the safest town in California. A few years back there were an abundance of articles detailing several animal attacks and other…unexplained deaths. Every journalistic bone in her body shivered at the stories that just didn’t add up. But misfortune seemed to thin out in recent years, so you managed to not talk yourself out of the trip in fear. 

What had made you hesitate was when you told every necessary person about your departure. Given the last minute nature of your holiday trip, you left a handful of messages on your friends voicemails letting them know to not expect you at holiday parties or secret santa or Christmas dinner. However you did have to talk to your boss and get explicit permission to work remotely over the next few weeks. And then, despite every bone in your body telling you not to, you called him. Joel. The boy you couldn’t get over now matter how hard you tried. 

When he answered you managed to give him a forced congratulations on his engagement, which he accepted without missing a beat like it was normal for her to be happy for him despite everything he has put her through over the years. And then he suggested they get together soon, which gave her exactly the opportunity she was looking for, letting him know she wouldn’t be around for the holidays. That was the first time he faltered in their conversation, surprised by the out of character move.

You’ve never left this town let alone the country. Even when I suggested a weekend trip to Scotland you refused.

You rolled her eyes when he threw that in your face. Not only was he referencing their past romantic relationship, which he always seemed to do as if it was no big deal. That very weekend you refused to go away with him back in University was the first time he cheated on you. Which you thought about plenty on your own without a reminder, thank you very much.

You hung up not too long after that. And the next thing you knew you were on a flight across the world. And if you took a Xanax to get on the plane, well that was nobody’s business.

Now here you were, on winding back roads through thick green forests before arriving in front of a quaint, cabin-like cottage in a small neighborhood. You smiled to yourself. It was quieter out here than the bustling football town of Richmond. And not too far from the city if you wanted to experience more touristy things. 

You knew there was still a big chance of you having a mental breakdown if you got too lonely and overwhelmed out here, but at least it was peaceful and safe. After exiting the Uber and collecting your things, you immediately clocked the police car that seemed to belong to the town’s sheriff next door and that gave you a shred of reassurance in your latter assumption. 

You take in the inside of the house. It was just as cozy as it looked from the outside. Wood paneling. An actual fireplace. Warm quilts lining every piece of furniture. The woman you exchanged with told you it was formally her aunt’s home that she inherited and had moved into recently, and you admittedly loved the old fashioned tastes. It felt like being in the home of one of your own long since passed relatives. And honestly, that was exactly what you needed right now. 

You find your way to the master bedroom and make yourself at home, unpacking and storing what you can in the empty drawers, before taking stock of the kitchen. Keys to the cream colored volkswagen bug in the driveway were on display on the breakfast bar, along with a handwritten note explaining the locks, security system, and the wifi. Overly awake from your xanax-induced snooze on the plane ride, you decide to take a small adventure. (Once you figure out how to drive on the other side of the road).

With google maps as your co-pilot, you take the bug, apparently named Betty, into town to raid the supermarket and craft store. You needed something aside from binge watching television to keep you busy all on your own the next couple weeks. You buy ingredients for baking as well as supplies for painting - two of your favorite past times. 

But of course, also shopping on an empty stomach leads to less than strategic choices and you wind up with way more groceries than you would certainly need the next couple weeks. 

You’re doing your best to unload said grocery bags from the trunk and backseat of Betty when you hear a hoarse voice coming from the mailbox next door. 

“Looks like someone’s having a party.” 

You turn, too many bags around your wrists, and see a man, probably about 60 years old, regarding you in amusement while going through his mail. 

You chuckle in spite of yourself, “Oh, yeah I’m planning a real rager featuring mostly various flavors of Pringles.” 

His lips quirk up when he picks up on the slight accent, “Guessing you don’t have those wherever you’re from?”

“Not in so many options.”

He takes a few steps closer, “Would you like any help?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” But he’s already at the trunk reaching for some bags.

“It’s no problem I don’t have any plans,” he assures as he follows her up the driveway. “You’re not one of Diane’s nieces too, are you?”

You shake your head, assuming that was the name of said Aunt who used to inhabit this place. “Nah, I’m actually sort of renting it for the holidays.”

He nods, though you suspect he’s probably confused about the arrangement, but he doesn’t press, “I figured with the accent.”

You guide him to set down the bags on the countertop before you both grab the remaining bags and lock up the car.

“Thank you again. Definitely cut that time in half,” You smile at him as you start unpacking the bags in the kitchen, and even though you want to protest the extra help, he begins unbagging as well. 

“No problem at all. I live right next door, so anything you need in the next couple of weeks let me know. A lot of people in this neighborhood keep to themselves but don’t be afraid to holler my way.”

You nod with a smile, sticking your hand out to formally introduce yourself. 

He smiles back as he shakes your hand, “Noah Stilinski.”

“I assume you’re the sheriff?” 

He nods with a huff, “That would be me. But if my son had anything to say about it, I’d be retiring as soon as yesterday.”

You quirk your lips up as you start to put some items in the fridge. “Oh yeah, you seem like you’ve still got a few good years left in you.”

He snorts, and you’re glad he took it as a friendly joke. “That’s what I tell him. He’s become a bit less persistent this last year since I agreed to downsize our house and move next door, but he still makes comments about taking a step back at the station.”

“What does your son do?”

“He’s a detective, working towards joining the FBI.”

You can’t help but laugh, “So, sounds like he has no room to talk.”

“Yeah but then he brings up my age and my health and the stress of it all,” he sighs, shaking his head, “In a way he’s probably right, but I’m not quite ready to give it up yet.”

“I think that's fair,” you smile softly, “Everyone should be in charge of their own destiny. Your son should leave you alone.”

Noah chuckles, “I’m gonna tell him you said that. Do you give your parents a hard time?”

Your smile falters as you focus on the last remaining grocery items. “Not really. Uh, it was just me and my dad most of my life until he passed away a couple years ago.”

He lets out a long breath, “I’m sorry, kid…must be hard during the holidays.”

You shrug, “One of the reasons why I came here.”

“I get it. I lost my wife…well I guess it's been over 15 years now but every Christmas it's still hard. And now with Stiles in DC it's hard to say when he gets time off to visit. Spending it alone makes it worse.”

You nod, “Yeah, every place you go and every TV channel loves to make it their mission to remind you of families and friends that actually get to be together.”

He chuckles dryly, “Right. Well, I don’t want to impose on you too much longer as you get settled in. But like I said, I’m just right next door if you ever need anything.”

I nod and give him an appreciative smile, “Thank you, Noah.”

He gives you a nod and smile of his own before he ducks out of the kitchen and sees himself out the front. 

You take him up on his offer to pop next door almost immediately - though you weren’t going over for help, not consciously at least. 

After organizing the rest of your groceries and putting away your art supplies, you make a quick and easy dinner before focusing on baking the rest of the evening. You start with brownies before making both chocolate chip and snickerdoodle cookies. After taste testing all three, you decide they’re all too delicious to choose from and package half of each batch on a platter under plastic wrap to bring over to the sheriff.

You knew he hadn’t meant to upset you by asking about your parents - it was a common thing to happen to you. But it was weirdly comforting connecting with him on his late wife. It was nice to know you had someone close throughout the holiday season you had anticipated spending completely alone, especially one that seemed to understand you to some degree. 

So you thought he might appreciate some baked goods - even if his son wouldn’t love the idea of you bringing him sweets. But he wasn’t here so he can suck it. 

After knocking on his door, it was opening less than sixty seconds later and Noah greeted you with a surprised smile. 

“Hi,” you say softly, holding out the platter, “I baked you a few things. Cookies, brownies.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, but he grins and is already taking the platter out of your hands.

You shrug, “I was baking anyway. I enjoy doing it, but I definitely don’t need 3 dozen of them to myself.”

He studies the tray for a second before looking back up at you, “Do you want to come in and have some with me?”

Your eyes widen a fraction of a centimeter and you start to shake your head, “You don’t have to-”

“No, I insist,” he side steps into the foyer to make room for you, “I have plenty of milk, and if my son asks, its skim. Definitely not whole milk.”

You laugh softly and despite your earlier protest, you find yourself walking in. 

“Are some of these snickerdoodles?” he asks as he leads you through the house, into his kitchen. At your confirmation, “They’re my son’s favorite.”

From there, he grabs two small plates from the cupboard and selects one of each sweet for each of you, and pours you each a full glass of milk.

“You’re not vegan or lactose intolerant are you?” he asks after pouring.

You shake your head, already accepting the glass, “Nope. And thank God. I couldn’t live without ice cream.”

He chuckles in approval.

From there, the two of you spend the next hour or so chatting about random things. He tells you about the life of being a Beacon Hills Sheriff, and you do your best not to pry about the animal attacks from several years back. Instead, you tell him that you’ve been working in journalism for a paper in London but that one day you hope to write fiction. You also share stories about your father, and he of his wife and son. 

After laughing fondly over a childhood Christmas with your father where he totally meant well but bought you a terrifying off brand Barbie doll, Noah studies you curiously. 

“So, you said your family situation was one of the reasons you decided to spend your holidays abroad and alone but…was there another?” he inquired. 

You should have known the sheriff in the room would figure you out. 

“Uh, yeah,” your finger absentmindedly traces the rim of your now empty glass of milk, “Not to sound super cliche and sad, but it may have also been because of a boy.”

And after that, for some unexplained reason, you confide in this man that could have very well been the same age as your dad at this point over your failed love life. And yes, you divulge both cheating incidents and the fact that you still kept contact with him. 

Noah scoffs as you recount the way he reacted to your spur of the moment vacation plans, “And he still had the nerve to comment on your life choices after getting engaged to the other woman?”

“Yup.”

“What a schmuck.”

Your laughter surprises yourself, having rarely found humor in recounting your situation, “Oh yeah. He’s a total schmuck.”

He nods, “Don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely the one at fault and if he ever dared to step foot on American soil I’d have a warrant out for his arrest in an instant. But what I don’t understand is why you still give him even a shred of your time and energy.”

You sigh. That was the age-old question. 

Even you didn’t know how to answer that most of the time. But as you sat here and really thought about it, it was more than just an ounce of hope that maybe one day he’d change his mind. 

“I guess…he’s just comfortable. Familiar. You know…we grew up together and he was my first love…even if he was also my first heartbreak, I know him. My dad knew him. And even when he does things like cheat on me or get engaged, part of me still feels like one day we’ll get our happy ending because that's what's supposed to happen. I was supposed to be a journalist like my mom was and I’m supposed to stay in the town they met and with the boy I’ve always loved. I know it probably doesn’t make sense but-”

Noah shrugs, “I mean it sounds like the plot of a romantic comedy.”

That catches you off guard. “Um…yeah…”

Noah snorts at your confusion, “I’ve been watching a lot of movies since my son left for college, and that was six or seven years ago so I had to start watching something that wasn’t war or action movies. Admittedly most rom-coms aren’t that bad.”

You smile, “No, yeah, they’re pretty good.”

“Amazing even. I mean, When Harry Met Sally?”

“Oh, perfection.”

“And don’t get me started on 13 Going on 30.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Anyway, the vision you're describing is like some fairytale ending from one of those movies.”

“Yeah,” you nod, sinking back into your chair with your arms crossed.

“And you deserve that ending.”

“Oh, thank you-”

“But you’re acting more like the friend that always settles for the bad guy,”

“Oh-”

“Like Kathryn Hahn in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

“Jesus, you really do know your rom-coms.”

“Nobody roots for the leading lady to get with the guy that's always treating her like shit.”

“Thats…fair,” you chew your lip, “But what if I’ve never been the leading lady. I never make bold and interesting main character-esque choices.”

“Well…” he smiles warmly. “You came here didn’t you?”

You squeeze the arms on your chest tighter, “Yeah…”

“Sounds like a leading lady's decision to me.”

You find yourself starting to smile again.

“Like Meg Ryan or Kate Hudson.”

“Okay well now I’m dying to know just how many rom-coms you’ve seen.”

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ don't blow away ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

After readjusting your sleeping schedule and making a conscious choice to stop thinking about Joel and his engagement for the remainder of your trip, you feel a lot lighter and a lot more confident in your decision to get away for the holidays. 

You spend your mornings and afternoons cooking or baking, as well as painting while you get yourself invested in a handful of miniseries you’ve been meaning to binge over the years that you never got around to. And pending his schedule at the station, you find yourself cooking lunch or dinner for Sheriff Stilinski. You indulge him in meals he told you he’s liked, all the well attempting to turn down your offer to do so, but you also make conscious choices to sub in low-cal ingredients when you can, knowing his son probably wouldn’t appreciate you over-feeding his father, even if he wouldn’t be here to witness it. 

When you’re there for dinner, Noah has even convinced you to hang out for a movie. Always a rom-com. The first time, you suggest a modern movie he hadn’t seen yet (Set It Up), and the second night, he shockingly suggests one you’d never seen (While You Were Sleeping). Apparently he was obsessed with Sandra Bullock, and he was right to be. The movie, also starring a young and gorgeous Bill Pullman was in fact a banger. His words.

After getting to know each other that first night over dessert, he had given you his phone number for ease of communication during your stay. And by the second rom-com movie night, he’d given you his extra house key for emergencies. You knew he was being nice and fatherly - you could always sense sympathy for your situation even when he did his best to hide it, which you appreciated. But you also suspected he liked the company and the caretaking you offered, even if he wouldn’t admit it. No one liked to be alone during the holidays, no matter how often they said they were okay with it. 

Having noticed the clutter in his study the previous night, you decide to let yourself in the following afternoon while he’s at the station. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but you hoped he’d take it as a gesture that you wanted to help out and tidy up the place. You knew how hard it was to take care of simple things like straightening up around the house when you were dealing with lonely holidays or seasonal depression. And to be frank, you liked taking care of someone. So that’s why after straightening up the study, you also organized the medicine cabinet in the bathroom as well as refrigerator. And while you were in the kitchen, you figured you could meal prep some lunches to take to the office. 

Even though it was California, it was still soup season in your heart so you decided to make a batch of baked potato soup - minus bacon, you’re welcome Stiles - and put on music to make the time go by.

That must be why you didn’t hear the sound of the front door open. Or the call of an unfamiliar voice looking for his father. 

It wasn’t until the owner of the voice was almost right behind you, scaring the living daylights out of you. 

“Who the hell are you?”

You jump, the ladle in your hand flying up causing hot soup to splash on your skin, “Ah, shit!”

As you quickly wipe the warm liquid off your skin with a towel, you glance over and recognize the brown-eyed brunette man from the pictures around the house as Noah’s son. 

“Oh, my God, you scared me.”

“Uh, yeah. You scared me, too. Who are you and where is my dad?” he asks, looking you up and down suspiciously, but also mildly concerned for the potential of third degree burns on your skin. 

“Oh, sorry.” You laugh softly, putting the towel down on the counter and going back to stirring the soup intermittently. “Your dad probably didn’t tell you about me - but to be fair he didn’t tell me you’d be here so...”

“Um,” Stiles frowns, putting his hands on his hips, “Should my dad have told me about you?”

You laugh softly to yourself, “I mean we’ve only been spending time together a few days so not-”

“Aren’t you a little young to be dating my dad?”

You nearly choke on your own breath at the accusation, “I’m sorry? What gave you the impression I’m dating your dad?”

Stiles sputters, his face flushing a bit. “I mean, I didn’t- you..but he-” Stiles shakes his head and points a finger at you, “Hey, I’m not the one under interrogation here. You’re still the one trespassing in my house!”

You laugh in disbelief at the entire situation, rubbing your face, “Okay, now Mr. Prospective FBI Agent is interrogating me.”

Stiles narrows his eyes, “Okay, who are you?”

“I’m your neighbor,” You let out a deep breath, telling him your name finally, “At least for the next week or so. I’m staying next door for the holidays.”

“Oh,” Stiles juts his bottom lip out, taking in the information while staring at seemingly nothing.

“And because I’m alone and he was alone for the time being, we’ve just been keeping each other company. And I’ve been trying to help him out with stuff around the house while he’s working. You know, home cooked meals are always nice this time of year.”

“Oh,” Stiles voice and expression softens this time, as he looks back at you stirring the soup. 

You glance over at him, taking him in completely for the first time since he walked into the kitchen. He was just in sweats and a hoodie, but it looked…exceptionally good on him. 

“Well, I’m sorry for getting so…defensive. Seeing a stranger making soup in your kitchen is sort of alarming, especially with all the shit that's happened in this town.”

He says that last part off hand, as if not thinking about it. You just raise an eyebrow, a part of you secretly curious if it has to do with the past mysterious attacks and disappearances. 

Stiles must realize what he said and that it sounded ominous, so he plastered an awkward smile on his face, “I just mean…my dads the sheriff, and now I’m a detective in DC so…always on edge about something, you know?”

You nod, accepting his answer. “Well, I’m sorry for scaring you, truly. Like I said, I knew your dad wouldn’t be home for another couple hours and he had said you likely weren’t making it for the holidays this year.”

Stiles' lips quirk up, “Yeah, I managed to get the time off and I wanted to surprise him.” 

You find yourself smiling at him, too. “I’m sure he’ll be very excited.”

Stiles' grin grows for reasons unbeknownst to him, so he quickly finds a reason to keep talking. “So, uh…soup?”

“Oh, uh, yeah! Wanted something easy your dad could bring to work for a few days.”

“What kind?”

“Baked potato.”

“A nice choice.”

“Yeah,” you shrug one shoulder, “I’ve recently been favoring lasagna soup since it's everywhere on TikTok, but I thought that might be a little too intense. Not that baked potato is any healthier, but I’m forgoing the bacon and I figured if I tried to force feed your dad chicken noodle he’d put me behind bars.”

Stiles snorts, finding himself smiling again at your understanding of his dad and that he must have spoken about his concerns for him…as well as your thoughtfulness. “Yeah, well, thanks for that. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” 

You smile and hold his gaze too long again. But instead of pulling yourself out of it, a hot splattering of potato soup catches you off guard, with one drop landing right in your eye. “Shit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your eye.

“Jesus,” Stiles mutters, heading for the paper towels, “Let the record show that time it wasn’t my fault.”

You chuckle despite the irritation in your eye, “No, it was mine. Probably had the burner on too high.” You reach out to turn it off, “It’s probably done anyhow at this point.”

Just as you turn to find something to wipe your eye, Stiles is turning away from the sink with a damp paper towel and stepping closer to you. 

“Here let me see,” he whispers. You obey instantly, moving your hand away so he can see your eye and gently dab the paper towel against it, “Yeah, a little red but you should be fine.”

You watch him study you intently, and carefully wipe at your face. As soon as his eyes drift from your eyes to your lips he clears his throat and steps back, placing the paper towel in your hand, “Or, uh, I guess you could do that.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his awkwardness. Despite knowing him for all of five minutes, he feels familiar and very in character to what his dad had told you about him. “Thanks.” You say softly, dabbing your own eye. “Well, I just wanted to prep this for your dad. I can get it into some tupperware and be on my way. I’m sure you just want to rest and wait for your dad to get here.”

“You’re not gonna eat any of it?” he asks without thinking as you find two tall tupperware cups to fill up.

You shake your head, starting to ladle the soup into one. “Nah, I already ate lunch.” You glance up at him as he watches the soup pour into the plastic tub. “But if you want some…?”

Stiles shakes his head quickly, “No, you made that for my dad, I wouldn’t want to-”

“Psh, it's fine. I can always make more if it's such a hit. And it's your house, help yourself.”

You can tell Stiles thinks about protesting for about three seconds, before he gives in and goes for a bowl from the cupboards. You laugh softly to yourself as he pours himself a portion and then you proceed to put the rest away in the fridge for whoever wants it later. 

“You don’t have to go, you know.” Stiles murmurs, his mouth already full as he takes a seat at the kitchen table, before you even have a chance to announce your departure. 

You also briefly think about protesting, but you can’t deny the part of you that wants to stay. And not because you think he’s cute. No, that would be inappropriate. But it would be nice to talk to someone your own age.

You help yourself to a glass of water and join Stiles at the table who is already done with half of his soup. 

“So, you said you live next door?” 

“Sort of,” you decide he’d understand the situation better than his father, “About a year ago I drunkenly listed my home in London on this home exchange website. Where you and whoever in the world trade houses, cars, et cetera for however long…”

Stiles nods, “I’ve heard of that.”

“And a few nights ago, I got my first ever request. So I’m here for about two weeks while your dad’s actual neighbor is in Richmond.”

“Why would anyone want to do that alone this time of year?” He murmurs.

“Well, I think she made an impulsive decision to get out of the country. She seemed very impatient over our messages.”

“And what about you?” 

You study him. He seemed genuinely interested. But you also made that promise not to bring up Joel- he who shall not be named. 

So instead, you shrug, and lean back in your chair. “I don’t really have any family. And a holiday get away sounded new and intriguing. So I thought, why not?”

Stiles instantly understands and gives you a sympathetic but not at all pitying smile. “I’m sorry. About your family.”

You nod, “Thank you.”

“I don’t know if my dad mentioned but-”

You nod again with your own comforting smile, “I know. I get it.”

Stiles nods too. It feels good to be understood. 

Knowing neither of you want to linger in these feelings though, you change the subject with a deep breath. 

“So your dad mentioned you have a girlfriend.” A pretty one too, from the pictures you’ve seen of him and the redhead on the mantle, “Did she travel here with you?”

Stiles sits up straighter and smiles softly, “Lydia. Yeah. Well, no. She actually lives in Massachusetts. She went to MIT so we’ve been long distance since college. But she grew up here, too, she just couldn’t get away from her job long enough for the trip this year.”

You hum, “High school sweethearts?���

Stiles snorts, scraping the last remnants of soup before giving it up and bringing it to his lips to sip. “Yeah, is that dumb?”

You shake your head quickly, “No not all. That’s…romantic. I’m sure a lot of people long for a relationship that clicks so early. You’re lucky.”

Stiles licks his lips and stares at his now empty bowl. “Yeah. That’s us.” 

After a few beats of silence, you glance between him and the bowl. “Do you want me to take that for you?”

Stiles looks up at you quickly, before shuffling to his feet, “Uh, no! No, you've done enough. I mean- sorry, that sounded dismissive. I just meant-”

You cut him off with your laugh, “I know what you meant Stiles.” You follow his lead and stand. “I think I’m gonna head back next door.”

“You don’t have-”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. You should rest from your trip and have some time with your dad when he gets home.”

“I don’t mind that you’re here,” he states earnestly. “I know he wouldn’t mind either.”

You give him a warm smile, “I know. I’m sure I’ll find my way back over soon.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” He says before overthinking how that could be taken again, “I just meant, it's always been just me and my dad for the holidays. That is, when I make it home. It's nice having more company.” 

You nod, “I agree. I’ll see you soon, Stiles.” 

You turn before he can sense the eagerness you feel to do so.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ square peg round hole ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

You do see Stiles, quite often in fact. Over the next few days leading up to Christmas, you continue visiting the Stilinski household, making meals and watching movies. But when you do, Stiles offers what he can do to help in the kitchen, which is more often than not cleaning up after you're done with certain items. But you do manage to teach him a few things. 

The first movie night, you and your dad double team him and convince him to watch Miss Congeniality with them. Apparently something Noah’s been trying to get him to watch the last few years. A comment which he makes, after murmuring something about Stiles giving in so quickly this time to which Stiles protests without making eye contact with either of you. You try not to read into it. 

When his dad’s busy being sheriff, Stiles also pops over and hangs out with you. Even if you’re just working on a writing assignment he keeps you company. He also assists you in baking when you tell him you want to bring some goods to the local shelter. After trying some of your both equally tasty and adorable gingerbread cookies, he insists on helping you make another batch to bring to his friend Scott’s house. 

You off hand make a comment about dying to meet his friend Scott, after his dad’s repeated stories that co-star the two of them. And Stiles finds it pertinent that you know that Scott has a girlfriend. Which is great for him, but you’re not sure why Stiles needed you to be aware of it. Again, you try not to read into it. 

Maybe it's not exactly the perfect, rom-com scenario since Stiles lived a world away and had a girlfriend himself, but you enjoyed spending time with him and the way he made you feel while you did. It was just a hopeful reminder you had the ability to feel this way about someone other than you-know-who.

Which speaking of. 

It was as if Joel had a censor for when you were spending time with another guy. For the past few days, he’d been texting you or calling you throughout the day. The calls you did your best to ignore, and you placated his texts that were “just checking in” or “this meme reminded me of you” with half hearted responses. You were too nice to cut him off cold turkey, but every day you had half a mind to block his number. 

You can tell Stiles wants to ask who you’re ignoring when you hit the decline call button for the third time in his vicinity, but he respects your privacy. Even though every time your phone lights up, you can tell he’s dying to say something. 

With all the time you’ve been spending with the Stilinskis, they invite you to spend Christmas day with them. And at that point you didn’t even bother to protest. You’re looking forward to eating Christmas ham with them (which Noah had to fight for) and end the night watching Love Actually. And the two of them assure you they’ll have enough father-son time on Christmas Eve. 

Which gives you the perfect time to do the lastest-last minute Christmas shopping for them on that very Eve.

You’re at the Beacon Hills mall and by the grace of God, you find a white cable knit sweater in a department store reminiscent of Billy Crystal’s in When Harry Met Sally you Noah would love and laugh over. 

You found it harder to shop for Stiles. You think it's just because you’ve known him for a few days less, but really you felt more pressured to impress him. You couldn’t imagine why. 

Speak of the devil. 

Just as you were hopelessly pursuing a rack of flannels you’re sure he already had, the man himself was calling you. 

“Hey-”

“Oh, my God you have to help me.”

Your heart rate picks up at his panicked tone, “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Is your dad-?”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes. He’s fine, I promise. He just got called into work.”

“Oh.” You let out a relieved breath but still frown, “On Christmas Eve? That sucks.”

“I know. Especially for me.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, being the amazing son I am, I told him I’d have dinner ready for him when he got home.”

“That’s nice.”

“But I have no idea what to make him.”

“Ah.”

“That’s where you come in.” 

“I figured.”

“I thought I could literally just make pasta, but believe it or not we’re out. And now I’m at the grocery store and everything is like sold out.”

“Well you are shopping on Christmas Eve.”

“I didn’t see your car next door. What are you doing?”

“...Shopping.”

“Nice.”

“Would you be up for taking a trip to the city? I’m sure they’ve got at least one supermarket that hasn’t been picked over. I can meet you there and help you throw something together.”

“Really? I don’t want you to go out of your way.”

“As previously mentioned, I’m already out. It's not a problem.”

“Okay…if you’re sure.”

“I am one hundred percent sure.”

And that’s how you end up participating in a supermarket scavenger hunt in San Francisco for the afternoon. You split up at the first two grocery stores, and with your head start you have an epiphany that your Christmas gift to Stiles could be snickerdoodles, as his dad said those were his favorite. So you grab some extra ingredients before heading to a very barren pasta aisle. Damn what was everyone in California making?

You meet Stiles, after he had similar luck, at a third grocery store. This time you get lucky and find a box of fettuccine which had been your goal.

“Okay so you’re envisioning alfredo? Nice. I can grab a jar-”

“No, no, no.” You literally force stop him in his tracks, “Everyone knows premade alfredo sauce is never good.”

“Yeah, I agree with you. But you expect me to make it from scratch?”

“I can help you.”

“I don’t want to keep putting you out on Christmas Eve.”

“Stiles, it's literally fine. Who else am I gonna hang out with?” You say with a smirk so he knows you’re teasing.

He still feels a pit in his stomach as he follows you to the refrigerated section where your sights are set on heavy cream and cheese. 

“I guess I’ve just been curious…you didn’t have any friends to spend the holidays with?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “I have great friends. But honestly, a lot of them have families or significant others and it's not always fun being around that this time of year.”

Stiles nods, “Yeah, I get that. I hate when I get stuck in DC by myself and I get a pity invite to something from one of my friends.”

“Yeah, it's nice but it's also tortuous.”

“Exactly,” He chuckles softly, but still feels something nagging at him, “I’m just surprised that you’re single…”

Your stomach churns uncomfortably but you don’t let it show, as you lead him determinedly to pick up an extra pack of butter. “Guess I haven’t found ‘the one’ yet.”

Stiles once again scoffs and mutters to himself, “How does one even know when they’ve found that.” 

You try not to read into that and focus on making sure you get unsalted butter over salted, “I guess I’ll let you know when I find him.” Satisfied with your selection, you turn to him and stand up straight. “Do you guys have garlic powder?”

Stiles scrunches his face to think briefly and then shrugs, “No clue.”

You chuckle softly, turning to lead him toward the spice aisle, “Follow me.”

Wordlessly he trails behind you, and you’re thankful he’s dropped the topic of romance. For your sake and his, he’s the last person you should be talking to about relationships and dating when, fine, you’ll admit it, you’ve developed a very tiny and innocent crush on him. It was harmless but should he even get a single hint you had any sliver of feelings for him while he had a very long-term and serious girlfriend, then you’d lose his friendship. And worse. Your friendship with his dad. And you didn’t want to lose either. 

“Can you explain to me the difference between garlic salt and garlic powder?” he asks inquisitively as you pick up the former. 

You give him an amused look, “Uhhh, just general vibes I guess?”

Stiles nods and glances back at the array of spices, “And can you explain to me why nutmeg isn’t a nut?”

“Well, I’m not-”

“Or what the hell cardamom even is?” He asks with an incredulous look on his face as he takes a step back and takes in the whole aisle. “But seriously I’ve never heard of half of these spices.”

“Well that's because you don’t cook or bake.” You scoff.

“Hey, I thought I’ve been an excellent sous chef. Your words, not mine.” he crosses his arms, giving you a faux offended look.

“Yeah, thanks to my guidance.” You shrug, crossing your own arms.

“Okay then explain cumin to me.” He takes a step closer. 

“Hey, I don’t question the ingredients, I just use them.” You hold your hands up in surrender. 

Stiles scoffs, “Sounds like negligence in the kitchen to me.”

“Oh, what are you going to do, officer, suspend me from my post? In your hour of need?” You tease back, taking a challenging step closer. 

A smirk starts to creep up on Stiles face, liking you in this close proximity to him. “Well, I think…”

Just as he’s forming a witty retort, his eyes drift just past your head to further down the aisle where a familiar strawberry blonde is standing. He almost calls out to her…until he processes the fact that she is not alone. Technically he isn’t either. But Lydia’s hand is intertwined with her counterpart, and said man is leaning down to kiss her. Right there in the spice aisle. 

You squint at Stiles curiously just as the color drains from his face. You anxiously turn around in the direction he’s staring at and you instantly understand his expression. In fact, your heart breaks for him. You turn back to him quickly, his name escaping your lips in a quiet whisper. But before you can find any other words to console him, he’s side stepping around you and approaching his should-be girlfriend. You can barely stomach watching the scene unfold. In fact, you last the fraction of a second it takes for Lydia to realize she’d been caught red-haired and handed before you turn right around to give them privacy and vacate the aisle altogether. 

You make yourself busy by checking out the items you’ve gathered and waiting in the parking lot where the bug is parked next to his blue jeep. Lydia and her companion exit the store first, and you avert your eyes as if she’d know who you were at all. Then two minutes later, Stiles exits and walks slowly over to you. 

You’re once again at loss for words as he pulls his keys from his pocket and fumbles with them for a second. 

“Can we talk at the house?” he mutters softly, his wounded eyes flashing to yours briefly before turning back to his keys.

You nod, hoping the drive back to Beacon Hills would help relax him as much as was even possible. You don’t say a word. You just squeeze his arm before getting into your own car to follow him out of the parking lot. 

After a half hour, you’re both pulling into your respective driveways before you jog over to his front door. He waits on the porch for you before leading you both into the house you’ve become oh so comfortable in. 

The air feels different though, a sense of tension looming. You take it upon yourself to unpack the groceries, getting the necessary items in the fridge while he flops on the couch with a loud breath you can hear from the kitchen. You also take it upon yourself to pour some alcohol. You decide on one glass of wine and one glass of whiskey. When you sit beside Stiles on the couch, he chooses the whiskey. And then you wait for him to talk. 

“Is it bad that I’m not…surprised?” Is what he finally says.

You turn to him with narrowed eyes, “What?”

He groans and rubs his temple, “I just mean…I’ve had this feeling in my gut for a long time that the other shoe was going to drop for us at some point.”

“Why would you think that? I thought you two were…inseparable?” 

He nods, “We were. When we…got together in high school…it's a long story but we went through a lot together that sort of…bonded us. And I’d had a crush on her since elementary school, long before she even knew I existed. So when we finally got together, I just thought, wow I can’t believe this is finally happening. Can’t believe a girl like her would even want to be with a guy like me. But even that first summer after high school it felt…forced? Like we were just together because it made sense that we were? And then the distance thing…it was hard but it also…wasn’t? Like I didn’t…miss her as much as I thought I would. Or at least…I didn’t long for her the way you’re supposed to. Like…aren’t you supposed to ache when you’re away from the person you love?”

He turns to you after that, and it catches her off guard, as you’d been studying his face as he tried to explain his complicated feelings. 

Your voice is hoarse when you finally swallow and respond, “Yeah, I suppose…I mean, I guess I’ve never felt that either.”

Stiles nods slightly and studies her this time, “I guess what I’m trying to say is it felt like we were going through the motions for a while now and it was just a matter of time before one of us said it out loud.”

You frown, “But Stiles…even if it wasn’t working out or if she was unhappy, she shouldn’t have cheated on you. Or lied to you.”

Stiles closes his eyes and groans, “That's what pisses me off. All the times we’ve texted this week, which admittedly wasn’t much, she kept talking about the weather in fucking Massachusettes, when she’s been in San Francisco the whole time. Hell, I sent her Christmas present there last week!”

You close your own eyes at this. You had never been more sure someone deserves something less than the way Stiles deserved this. On Christmas Eve nonetheless.

He lets out another long breath and shakes his head, “But honestly it's still my fault.”

You make a face, “How in the world is it your fault?”

“For letting it get this far,” He shrugs, “I’ve known for years that our relationship was…off. And I never said anything. Or at the very least tried to do something to make it better. She probably felt me pulling away and jumped at the chance with someone else that actually gave her something. I think I just…held onto the idea of us. Or the idea I had of us when I was a teenager, pining over the popular girl in school. Like a part of me thought it had to work out and that whatever emptiness I felt was just how relationships were supposed to be because…what I always thought I wanted was her. And I had it.”

After a few beats of silence, Stiles glances at you again, “Did any part of that make any sense to you?”

You swallow thickly again and nod, “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean. I felt the same way about my high school boyfriend, too.”

His eyebrows raise, shocked to be getting a nugget of information regarding your romantic life. 

You take a deep breath and turn away from him, figuring it would be easier to say this way. 

“I’ve stuck by him longer than I should have too, because I always figured we’d end up together. Except…I’ve made the stupid decision to stick by him after he cheated on me. Twice.” You can sense Stiles eyes widen and shoulders tense beside you at this admission, but you force yourself to keep going, “And even after the second time, I’m still fucking friends with him. In fact, I called him before I came here. And he still reaches out to me almost daily even though he just got engaged to the girl he left me for. All because some twisted part of me thinks our stories still intertwine at the end.”

“He’s the guy that's been calling and texting you all week?” Stiles murmurs, almost not as a question. “Joel.”

The name sounds bitter coming out of Stiles mouth. You almost laugh as you nod. “Yeah. A huge reason I came on this trip was to forget about him, but it's like he knows and he doesn’t want me to.”

“No, that’s exactly what he’s doing. Stringing along while he gets to do whatever and whoever he wants. He’s an asshole.”

You snort, “Your dad called him a schmuck.”

“God, the biggest fucking schmuck.” 

You smile to yourself, “You already seem so much more self aware of your situation than me. Maybe you can avoid my fate and not be destined to love someone who’d hurt you like that.”

“I don’t think you’re destined for that…” Stiles whispers, “I think you were right earlier. You just haven’t found ‘the one’ yet.”

You manage a tiny smile as you and Stiles stare at one another with your heads leaning against the couch cushions. Instead of getting lost in his eyes while he looks at you like that, you lift up your wine glass in a silent request to clink it against his. “To both of us finding the one.”

The corners of Stiles' mouth twitch as he clinks. After another beat, Stiles forces himself off the couch with a surprising spring in his step. He turns to you and offers you a hand, “Okay no more wallowing. It's the holidays. We’re festive. We’re merry. We’re bright. Now let's go make some Christmas fettuccine.” 

Your smile grows and you take his hand, and you don’t miss the squeeze he gives you and the way he doesn’t let your hand drop until you’re well into the kitchen.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ only the good notes ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Your Christmas Eve took a sharp turn in a positive direction that night. The alcohol kept flowing, and maybe it was your brain under the influence of it, but you’re pretty sure the homemade alfredo you taught Stiles how to make was better than anything you’ve ever made in your whole life.

By the time Stiles’ dad arrives home that evening, he finds you both on your second bottle of wine, sprawled out in the living room, playing a very serious game of battleship. Noah doesn’t question it, and just heats up a plate of fettuccine and joins you when you switch to Clue. 

Of course you finish out the night with a movie, and Stiles lobbies for sci-fi this time, and you allow it - definitely because of the alcohol. 

However, you also definitely pass out within thirty minutes. But somehow, you still awake in your bed next door on Christmas morning. But you don’t dwell on it. 

You take a shower - after you’ve popped three advil and down a glass of water - and make the snickerdoodles for Stiles. Once they’re done you put them in a festive tupperware container and a gift bag, before wrapping the sweater for Noah in a gift box. 

After doing yourself up a little nicer than you normally would for a drop in at the Stilinskis, you head next door midafternoon, more excited for Christmas than you had been in recent years. Noah greets you at the door with a Merry Christmas and sweet kiss on the cheek before taking your bags and putting them by the tree in the living room. Stiles is already pouring you a glass of wine when you both meet him in the kitchen to get started on your grand meal for the evening. 

The sheriff took charge of the ham while you and Stiles were responsible for sides. Meaning, you made the mac and cheese while Stiles prepared the salad and rolls. 

You eat at the table and as always, enjoy lively conversation with the men who are quickly becoming two of your favorite people on the planet for welcoming you into their home for the holiday you otherwise would have spent alone. Your heart nearly grows three sizes when they announce they found Christmas Crackers to order online - a British holiday tradition - because they thought it would make you feel more at home. You really have to hold back from tearing up. 

The three of you tag team cleaning up the meal before retiring to the living room for the night, where you exchange presents. Just as you predicted, Noah loves the sweater and you equally love the vinyl record of the original soundtrack for 13 Going on 30. Stiles chastises you both for being too obsessed with rom-coms but there’s a fond smile on his face as he does it. 

That’s when you give Stiles his present and he’s both touched and confused that you were aware of his affinity for snickerdoodles. As he thanks you, he shares a wistful look with his dad. At your questioning stare, he smiles at you softly and explains, “My mom used to make these all the time.”

Your heart aches briefly, glancing at Noah who had left that detail out he told you that information. The man just shrugs, “Well, hers came out burnt half the time.”

Stiles and you both laugh, you in shock at the fond critique. 

“They were still incredible,” Stiles insists.

Still laughing, you look back at Stiles, “Alright, noted, I’ll bake them a tad longer next time.” 

Stiles’ stomach flips. Next time. 

Finally, since Stiles and his dad exchanged their gifts in the morning, the last gift of the evening was Stiles’ gift to you. He handed you a haphazardly wrapped rectangle you pretended to shake to hear something as if it were hollow, but you were already pretty sure it was a book. 

Stiles shrugs as you eye him while tearing the paper off, “It’s nothing really. You probably already have it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Stop it, you didn’t have it get me anything at all. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

You stare down at the book in your hands as you finally get the paper off. It’s one of those special edition books, with the shiny colored pages and gorgeously redesigned covers. The ones you always see in bookstores but never end up buying because you can never settle with picking just one. 

“Emma by Jane Austen?”

“Yeah, it's your favorite isn’t it?”

“Did I tell you that?”

Stiles nods, his fingers intertwined together, one of his nervous ticks you’ve picked up on. “Yeah, when we were watching Clueless. You said it's the book the movie’s based off of.”

You stare at the book in awe, before transferring that look to him, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

He shrugs again, “Of course. Well. Sort of ordered the book on the spot. Amazon. Capitalism. The true meaning of Christmas.”

You huff a soft laugh, still shaking your head at his thoughtfulness despite playing it off. “Thank you. I love it.”

His lips curve up, “Good. I’m glad.” 

For his part, Noah watches the scene unfold hiding a smile behind his whiskey glass. As far as he knew, Stiles was still hanging onto his relationship with Lydia by a thread. But he had a feeling that thread was about to snap if it hadn’t already. 

At that moment, you seem to remember that the two of you weren’t the only people in the room and you clear your throat. “Well, speaking of rom-coms, is it time for Love, Actually?”

Stiles snaps out of it himself and jumps up, picking up discarded pieces of wrapping paper on the way. “Yeah, let’s do it!”

Two days after Christmas you find yourself alone with Stiles for the first time since the supermarket incident turned one of your favorite Christmas Eve-Christmas’s of your life. On the 26th Stiles went to Scott’s for their friend group Secret Santa. He had mentioned being stressed about it, having had picked Isaac who he for some reason had a love-beef relationship with. But during one of his pop ups at your place, you helped him order something simple for the other guy. 

You were excited to hear how it all went down the next day. On the morning of the 27th, Stiles texted you to inform you his dad was working all day and he’d order Chinese for them tonight if she was up for it. And she definitely was. He comes over around five, and they call the restaurant together, ordering way too much food for either of them to consume. 

As you sip wine in the living room and wait for your dinner, you ask about Secret Santa. Isaac, unsurprisingly, loved his gift. And then Stiles received his from his other friend Liam who got him a Batman crewneck. You quip it would have been better if it was a Ten Things I Hate About You crewneck, Heath Ledger’s finer work, and he rolls his eyes. Affectionately. 

Stiles also admits he had to tell his friends about him and Lydia. They were both shocked and appalled and glad she didn’t RSVP for the party this year. 

“It must be hard…sharing a friend group with her. I’d imagine they’re not just going to cast her out.” You comment softly. 

Stiles nods, “Yeah. And I wouldn’t want them to. It’ll just take some…adjusting.” 

You hum, “Take it from me…it's hard staying in close proximity. I mean, I know you’ve been long distance anyway but even mutual friends' instagram stories are a hard place to run into them.”

Stiles cringes, “Yeah like I said…an adjustment.”

You hesitate before asking one question lingering on your mind, “Do you think..there’s a part of you considering taking her back?”

His eyebrows raise in surprise but he doesn’t immediately deny it. “I mean…it's definitely crossed my mind. Like I said, I always just assumed we’d stay together but…at the end of the day I think both of us deserve better than a relationship we’re only in half way.” 

You nod, “Even if one day you both find yourself in the same place, or city?”

Stiles sighs, “I guess you can’t really plan for that.”

Still not a firm denial. You couldn’t really fault him for that. The breakup was still fresh. 

Once your Chinese food arrives, you set everything out on your coffee table and you dig in, while throwing a sitcom on the TV you’ve both seen a dozen times so you can talk over it. Ten minutes into your feast, Stiles glances at the vacant arm chair across the room, that wasn’t really vacant, because your stack of art supplies filled it.

“Wait, do you paint? Or draw?” Stiles asks, squinting at the items across from him.

You flush slightly, but it wasn’t like it was a secret. “Uh, yeah. A little bit of both.” 

Stiles sputters, “You’ve been here a week and I didn’t know that?”

“You say that like it's been a lifetime.”

As he stands he mutters, “That's what it feels like.” 

You choose not to linger on whatever that means.

Stiles hovers over the chair and then turns to you. “Oh, um..may I?”

Your stomach flips anxiously but you find yourself nodding. “Sure.”

Stiles smiles gleefully and picks up your sketchbook before plopping back down on the couch beside you. You watch anxiously as he starts flipping through. Like you had said, it contained sketches and some of which you painted. 

He gives you a sideways glance after he looks at a few, “You seriously drew these? Free hand?”

You laugh softly, shifting into a semi-fetal position. You can count on one hand the number of people that have seen your drawings, outside of classes you took at university. “Yup.”

“They’re incredible,” he murmurs, continuing to flip through. Then he lingers on one and you figure he’d found the drawing you’d been anxiously anticipating his reaction to. You lean over slightly to confirm your theory and you were correct. It was a detailed drawing of the exterior of Stiles and his dad’s home, complete with the patrol car and blue jeep in the driveway. You’d gone over it with watercolors, feeling particularly inspired that day. For some reason. 

He glances at you for a split second before reverting back to the painting. “That’s Roscoe.” 

“I’m sorry, who?” 

“Oh right. That's my Jeep’s name.”

“Does everyone name their cars?”

“What you don’t?”

“I don’t have a car right now. I live in a very walkable city.” 

“Don’t rub it in,” Stiles snorts, and doesn’t even take his eyes off of the painting. “Seriously, this is amazing.”

You feel your cheeks warm, “It's okay if you think it's dumb.” 

Stiles vehemently shakes his head. “Not dumb at all. You’re so talented. And this one’s my favorite, not even a little biased.” 

You smile as he grins back at you teasingly. 

“Seriously, would you ever consider doing something with this?” he inquires.

You shrug, “I don’t know. I think my real passion is writing. But I kind of want to get out of journalism and do more with fiction. I’ve sometimes thought it could be cool to write a children’s book and illustrate it myself.”

“That would be so cool,” Stiles says all soft and earnestly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, glancing back down at the page again, “Would it be too much if I asked to keep this?”

Your cheeks warm again, “You want to?”

“Yeah, I told you it's my favorite. And then I’d be the first person to have one of your originals.” He glances at you, “Unless you give these out willy nilly.”

You laugh, “Nope. You’d be the first.”

He grins again, “Thank you.” After a beat, another thought crosses his mind, “Could you draw me?”

“Are you asking me if I can? Or if I will?”

He shrugs, “Can you? Would you?”

You scoff, “Are you asking me to draw you like one of my French girls?”

“Depends. Would I have to be topless?”

“If you want it to be authentic.”

“Well, fine if it's for the sanctity of art, I shall.”

As you both laugh together, you finally register how close you’ve been next to him. In fact, you lean closer as you laugh. And for the first time, you don’t feel the urge to cut the moment short or pull away. Stiles seems to register the same thing as his laughter dies down. His eyes linger on your eyes for one, two, three more seconds…before they venture to your lips. 

As if by gravitational pull, you both lean closer until your lips brush against one anothers. Stiles reaches out and tenderly cups your face, pulling you closer to fully commit to the kiss, which you eagerly reciprocate. 

You’d admittedly thought about what this would feel like since pretty much every day since you met him. But you never seriously considered it actually happening. Not with the limited time you were spending here. Not with his dad is such close proximity at all times. Not with-

The girl he had broken up with merely 48 hours ago. 

Despite the kiss being better than your fantasies could have conjured up, you jerk back once you regain awareness of the situation. 

Stiles’ eyes shoot open as you sink back into the couch, away from his touch. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, as worry and guilt build in his chest.

“Shit, was that not okay?”

You move your head somewhere between a nod and shake back and forth. “It was okay, I just think…you’re fresh off of a breakup with your long-term girlfriend and I don’t want to take advantage of all the things you're feeling right now.”

Stiles nods but the frown stays on his face, “Admittedly yes there are a lot of feelings swirling through me right now, but most if not all are for you.” 

You swallow and close your eyes tightly, because if you keep looking at him you won’t have the strength to say or do the right thing. “I know what you mean but…I also think you’ve had a lot to think about in so little time and I don’t want to factor in and affect anything.”

“But-”

“And I won’t be here for very much longer and if anything, that should be what factors in the most.”

Anything Stiles was going to stay dies on his tongue in that moment, feeling the wind get knocked out of him. Yes, subconsciously he’d always been aware your time in Beacon Hills was limited. But after the last couple of days, after that kiss, the reality hit him twice as hard. Despite having known you for just about a week, he’d still had some of the most incredible days of his life getting to know you, cooking with you, laughing with you, watching you bond and look after his father in ways he hadn’t been able to do in recent years. He couldn’t stomach the idea of all of that coming to an end, before they could even start…something. Anything. 

“It doesn’t have to be…” Stiles manages to whisper, but it's a weak argument without anything to back it up. 

You give him a watery smile, “I’ve had a really amazing holiday with you. And your dad. But…I think for now you should just…sit with your breakup and think about what you really want. Hell, I’ve been sitting with mine for years and I still have yet to figure that out.”

Stiles’ face contorts at the mention of your ex, “But this is different.” 

“This is…fleeting.” You sigh with a tired shrug, “And not worth more than what you have here.”

Stiles wants to argue, say that what he’s had here for years pales in comparison to what he’s had the past few days with you. But he knows how crazy it sounds. And he knows his relationship with Lydia meant enough to him to at least think about for a little longer. 

He takes a deep breath and finally nods. But he can’t leave it like this. “I don’t want this to be our goodbye.”

You force a smile again, “It’s not. I’m still here for a little while longer. I’ll see you before I go. Just take a couple days.”

He nods again, comforted by the idea of seeing you again and that's enough to propel him to his feet and walk towards the door. 

“You’ll still come by if you need anything right? And I mean anything?”

You nod as you open the front door for him slowly. “Of course. I know where to find you guys.”

He nods, grinding his teeth. He brushes his lips against your forehead briefly, before ducking outside without another word.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ gumption ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Admittedly cutting Stiles and subsequently his dad out of your life for even one day was harder than you thought, especially considering they’ve been your only form of real life human connection the past week or so. 

Sure, you’ve spoken to your friends over the phone and FaceTime but when you’ve truly felt whole this holiday season, it's been with one or both of the Stilinskis. Even in such a short amount of time, they’ve become almost sort of…family.

And maybe that's your problem overall. Even without romance complicating your relationship with Stiles, you were still becoming overly attached to these two men who you would likely never see again in just a few days. Gaining and losing two more people in your life was not the goal of this getaway.

So for that whole day without them, you focus on yourself. You take yourself shopping and take advantage of those post-Christmas sales, but most things were well picked over. You treat yourself to a mani-pedi but of course you regret the color choice an hour later. Instead of cooking dinner, you order takeout but they forget two of the things you wanted. Even baking and drawing don’t bring you peace. 

Sighing against the couch, with a heavy poured glass of wine, you rub your head and wonder what else you could possibly be doing to take your mind off of the boy next door.

As if by clockwork, your phone buzzes from where you discarded it on the coffee table. You sit up a little faster than you should have when you consider it could be Stiles who is reaching out. But you face disappointment when you see that it's Joel. 

And for some reason…you pick it up this time.

“Hey,” you breathe out, unsure of your game plane here.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joel’s thick posh accent glides through the phone. “Wanted to see how your holidays were. I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

You sigh, feeling yourself slipping back into the comfort of his familiar voice. He always claimed terms of endearments were how he spoke to everyone. But you’ve never heard him use them for anyone other than his significant other, or you even if you weren’t his. It had begun to bug you over the last couple months, but tonight, you’re falling for it. 

“They were really good. Sorry I’ve been missing your calls, I’ve been pretty busy,” You find yourself apologizing for some reason. 

“That's alright, love. I’m glad to hear you found things to do over there.” He muses and you almost hear the smile on his face over the phone. “You know…I’ve really missed you. Christmas in Richmond isn’t the same without you here.”

For once in your life, you find yourself saying what you’re thinking to him, “I’m sure you’ve got your fiance to keep you company though, right? First Christmas as an engaged couple?”

There’s silence on the other end, briefly. “I’ve actually been thinking about that a lot lately. I’m not quite sure that’s going to work out.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “What? Your engagement?”

“The whole relationship,” he admits softly, “Look, darling I’ve been thinking about you a lot the last couple weeks. Pretty much non-stop since you left. And I realized…maybe I made a mistake.”

Your heart just about stops. This is what you always thought would happen. He’d come to his senses and come back to you. 

But it doesn’t feel the way you thought it would. 

“What do you mean, Joel?” You ask and you hate how shaky your voice sounds.

“I mean…I fucked up when I let you go-”

“Yeah. Twice.”

“I know, darling,” he sighs, “And you know how sorry I was. And I think this time away from you made me really think about everything. And think about what I really want.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, “And you want…me?”

He chuckles, “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say, love.”

You’re at loss for words as your brain tries to make sense of this information. Everything in you is screaming not to give into this, but there is still a small piece of you that reminds you how much simpler it would be. He was familiar. He lived in your town. He was a safer choice than a man thousands of miles away. 

Just as you feel your resolve melting, before you have a chance to respond you hear Joel’s voice again, but this time it's distant, accompanied by muffled noises. As if he was talking to someone else. 

“Give me one second, doll…” are the only works you make out…followed by footsteps and a door closing. 

“Darling-”

“I’m sorry,” you scoff, “Are you with her right now?”

“Sweetheart, I’m-”

“Oh, my God you are actually unbelievable,” You shake your head despite him not being there, “You call me to tell me you want me back from the house you still share with your fiance you are still very much with!”

You hear him let out a long, tired breath, “Darling, I wish you could understand how confused all of these feelings have made me.”

“You may be confused, but I’m not anymore. I am so done with this.”

He stutters, “Darling, what do you mean? You can’t be saying-”

“I’m saying I’m done with you, Joel. In every possible way. I’m done waiting around for you. I’m done allowing you into my life even when you don’t deserve to be in any capacity. And I am sure as hell done thinking I’m in love with you.”

“Darling-”

“Goodbye, Joel.” And without another thought, you hang up. And not a part of you feels guilty that that might very well be the last time you ever speak to him.

You start pacing the living room. You could not believe you almost fell for it again, even though he was doing the exact thing he always does. And that’s when you realize, he wasn’t the safe choice because he was a good choice. He was safe because deep down you know what you were getting yourself into with him. There was always a chance he could hurt you but you could prepare for it. With someone else, someone knew, it was unpredictable and that's what made things scary.

But you were tired of that fear holding you back. 

Suddenly coming to your own senses, you realize there’s someone you desperately need to talk to. And soon, while your adrenaline is still pumping.

You glance out of your front window. The patrol car next door was missing from the driveway. But the blue jeep was there. Suddenly remembering something, you grab your sketchbook and dash outside, straight to the neighboring front door, knocking quickly. Nervously, you hug the sketchbook to your chest as you wait.

Moments later, the door swings open and you’re greeted by those warm brown eyes you’ve grown so fond of the last couple weeks. 

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, like you’d been holding your breath since you knocked. Which you had been,

“Hi,” he says, sounding very similar. 

“Can I come in?” You ask quickly before you lose the nerve.

Startled by your assertiveness, he nods quickly and steps out of the way. You hurry inside and into the living room, Stiles following close behind.

“First of all, I realized you forgot this.” You shakily flip through your book before you get to the page with the same blue jeep that was parked outside. And inspite of your shakiness, you carefully tear out the page, thankful for the perforated lines. 

“Oh,” Stiles is surprised when you hand him your artwork, “You’re still okay with me having this?”

You shrug, “You’re the only one who should.”

He blinks at you before allowing a small smile to creep on his face. 

“I forgot something last night, too.” You continue softly. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, still feeling like you were short on breath. “I know I said me and you are fleeting, and that it was complicated with the timing of your breakup but I never told you that…I have feelings for you too. Lots and lots of feelings.”

Stiles’ smile wobbles, “You do?”

“Yes. And the truth was I was afraid of them. Not because of you. You’re probably the nicest guy I’ve ever met. But because the circumstances are hard and you’d have the incredibly anxiety-inducing ability to break my heart if I let you in the way I want to.”

His name escapes your lips breathlessly, taking a step closer as he prepares to deny your fear.

You step in the opposite direction, wanting to finish your thoughts, “No, no, it's true and that’s okay. Because neither of us can promise that everything will go perfectly. That's life. My dad promised he’d always be around and then he got sick, that wasn’t his fault. Things just happen. But I’ve spent the last however many years trying to prevent things from happening, that I’ve also stopped living my life to the fullest. Stop going after things I want. And right now, I really, really want you.” 

Stiles watches you intently, and you let out a deep breath to let him know you’re done. 

“I just wanted you to know that,” you finish quietly. 

Stiles nods and takes a deep breath of his own. “I talked to Lydia today.”

You breath hitches. “Oh? You did?”

He nods again, “Yeah. And we’re officially over.”

Your eyes widen, “You…are?”

Stiles walks closer to you again and this time you don’t move back. His lips start to curve up again. “I want you, too. And I know there’s a lot of variables, and we can’t predict the future, but here today, right here right now, I know that I haven’t felt this way about anyone, especially in such a short amount of time, and I’ll do whatever I can to make this work.”

Your lip quivers as he further invades your space, his forehead pressing against yours. He gently grips your chin.

“Does that sound okay to you?” He whispers.

You nod, swallowing a disbelieving laugh. “That sounds perfect.”

Stiles grins and finally presses his lips to yours, and not a bone in your body ever wants to pull away. In fact, you chase his mouth when he pulls away, and he fights a laugh of his own. 

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your face gently between his hands and looking at you amusedly, “Quick question. Do you want to go out with me on New Year’s Eve?”

Just as you start to beam at him, your smile falters. “I’ll be back in England by New Years Eve.”

He frowns briefly too before fixing a determined look on his face, not breaking eye contact with you. “You know I’ve never been to England. I’ve never even been to another continent.”

You squint, your heart racing as you chuckle softly, “Oh yeah? You sound like me.”

He starts to grin again, “If I come over there…then will you go out with me?”

This time you fully beam, “I’d love to.” 

Stiles kisses you again, more hungrily this time. And you count yourself lucky his dad walked in the house at that point, and not five minutes later when god knows what position you would have been in.

Instead you just pull apart slightly, to laugh after he exclaims, “I knew it!” 

Stiles holds you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go for even a second as his dad begins teasing them. You’re pretty sure you’ve never felt happier. Or safer. And even though you still had so much to figure out, you weren’t going to overthink it. You were content living in the moment, as long as many of those moments were spent in Stiles arms as possible.

author's note: can't wait to hear what everyone thinks!! and hope everyone has a wonderful start to 2025 <3

[lululawrence]

lululawrence's fics posted in 2024

Master Fic Masterpost | Previous Years' Masterposts | Buy me a Coffee?

I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) (75k) featuring artwork by @moon-sun-thyme - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

I Can Only Hold You (9k) - Jordan North/Louis Tomlinson

When Louis learns Jordan is close to falling into depri, he rushes over to help. What follows is so much more than either of them planned for.

You Just Be Yourself (13k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Five times Harry's daughter claims Louis as her mother, and one time Louis claims them both as his too.

Listening to Intuition (5k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis has a good grasp of his own identity and how all the pieces of him fit together in his life as a queer man in a committed relationship with his partner. Or so he thinks until his favorite aroace TikTok creator shows him another possibility he may have previously overlooked.

Following the Good Vibes (6k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

When Zayn rescues a stranger named Harry from an awkward plane ride beside a total dick, he doesn't think much of it. Harry has the chance to pay it forward on a later flight, and in doing so he just might set into motion pieces that will determine the path his future takes.

Come and See My Dreams (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

In a world where alphas traditionally built nests as part of the courting rituals for their omegas and rarely outside of that, Louis felt drawn to nest for his best friend from the time he was young.

Now, it was finally time to present the nest to Harry.

a moon, a rainbow, and a carnation (9k) - Oscar Isaac/Pedro Pascal/Louis Tomlinson

Five times Louis, Pedro, and Oscar have incredible chemistry and the one time they finally admit to the feelings.

'Cause What I Want Came True (2k) - Diego Luna/Louis Tomlinson

Diego had been… unexpected. From the moment that Louis had walked into the coffee shop and seen him sitting there, he was surprised. He’d known Diego was attractive, the few photos he had shared on the dating app had made that clear, but there was something about seeing him in person that made him feel… more.

(Whoops) Here We Go Again (4k) - Oscar Isaac/Louis Tomlinson

The one where Louis and Oscar have been seeing each other regularly on the elevator at work for almost nine months. Maybe it’s time for something to finally happen between them.

Duck Crossing (3k) - Diego Luna/Louis Tomlinson

“So, what exactly are we doing?”

Diego’s brows rose in surprise at the same time Louis started hearing what sounded like quacking. “You don’t know?”

Louis scrunched his nose a bit and looked over towards where the quacking seemed to be getting louder. “I don’t. My sister sent me to the discord without explaining what was so special about the town’s ducks, and when I went to ask about it, I somehow got roped into helping you here tonight instead, so…”

Diego laughed before he looked up and down the road, where several cars were still making their way around. “This is going to be fun for you, then.”

I'm the Big Fish (6k) - Pedro Pascal/Louis Tomlinson

After an awkward moment at a party he wasn't actually invited to, Louis keeps running into the incredibly attractive Pedro Pascal. Somehow, it's Pedro who manages to keep making a fool of himself, causing Louis to grow increasingly more confused at his behavior while also feeling more drawn to him. Maybe someday they'll be able to manage a moment that doesn't end in one of them feeling the need to run from the room in order to escape the other.

All the Words We Don't Want to Hear (666) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis turned off the tv and took a few deep breaths. He should never have allowed himself to watch a show detailing an ongoing serial murder investigation when he was home alone at night. His imagination was getting the best of him and causing him to get worked up over nothing.

…Right?

Harry's Halloween Husband Haul (666) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry's voice drifted in through the closet door.

“I saw a girl make a video showing her boyfriend haul, so I thought I’d make a Halloween Edition husband haul! So here’s mine…”

You Should Be Here With Me (34k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

The festive period is a traditionally hectic one in the world of Premier League football, and this year is no different. A lot is riding on how Manchester United is able to come through the fixtures in the coming weeks.

Louis and his teammates know all too well the pressure that is on their shoulders. They need to prove, not just to fans of the club but the entire league, that they still have what it takes to be a team worthy of fighting for the top of the table.

Throw in the fact that Louis is all too aware that he's not getting any younger in a profession that demands your peak physical fitness year round and the incredibly fit Harry Styles, who is part of the club's social media team, and this year's festive period might just be the most important one yet.

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 94

Drowning by aparticularbandit

I’m Excited!~ 

Both because I just really like todays fic, and also because this is another piece that I’m particularly fond of both with the end result and the process of making it!

Let’s talk about the fic this time first! Spice it up a little!

Love this one! A lot! And if I’m not having a severe lapse in my memory this was actually my introduction to Bandits work! While I haven’t read all of it (yet), what I’ve managed to take in so far is truly lovely! Bandit consistently has a very strong way of putting words together, the inner monologues written for whatever character we happen to be following are so good! Go read!!

I mentioned Drowning quite a few days ago, as it inspired two of the pieces playing with the idea of Junkan’s dynamic when portrayed using the Alter Ego flavor of Junko. So it seemed pretty fucking obvious that when making a list of what fics to make fanart of in this section of the project, that Drowning would have to be one of the first ones I did.

I love the process of Mikan internally explaining how it felt to finally remember Junko after being forced to forget her in the Neo World Program. I think there’s still intricacies to the wording that I’ve yet to pick up on, but it’s such a fun and readable description of how that feels! I love it! And the fun little anecdote about the two watching Horror Movies together is so fucking pleasant just as an aside. Love that.

I really like Monokuma’s implementation here, short as his tenure in the text is. He is just a silly little guy amidst this very serious oneshot and then Mikan says “Junko” and he isn’t fucking around anymore. I love it! The description of Blood in DR is also nice!~ Now the like, actual Junkan part of the Junkan fic though. It’s amazing!~

First off, Mikachin as a nickname is adorable. Second off, I’m not sure how to adequately articulate WHY i love the rest of this so much? Like I can say I really, really love the kiss scene, it drives me up a wall how good it is like god DAMN. But the rest? It’s just so fuckin well put together, pure artistry, excellent. And the end? Mikan “swimming”? Perfect, cinema even. Good work. God damn.

As for the art it’s actually both a cover, AND an adaptation. The combo.

When trying to figure out how to handle this I knew a few things. I wanted Monokuma, and I wanted the cave by the beach, since I love that fucking metaphor. After a lot of thought I decided to make it an adaptation of the scene where Mikan pets Monokuma. Albeit adding my own interpretation of things, which may have been misguided depending on your perspective. There’s a chance that when drawing Junko here I softened her up further than what might have been intended. That’s the one thing that usually happens whenever I read these Junkan Fics taking place in actual canon, it’s always a little bit hard for me to tell what the general intention with Junko is in terms of her feelings towards Mikan. Not by any fault of the author(s) of course, it’s more me trying to tell if it was actually intended to be a softer Junko who does care for Mikan, or if that’s my own biases clouding my interpretation of the text. 

I just really liked the visual of Junko watching over Mikan while she figures things out until they can be together again, like a ghost but less sad. Except it’s a little sad given y’know, it’s Alter Ego Junko and also this is in canon so Mikan’s gonna “die” relatively soon after this, but also they don’t need to know that. 

I really need to draw Monokuma more often. I definitely draw him a bit . . . cuter? With a much smaller body compared to the size of his head, usually at least. I do draw him more on model sometimes, kind of a random chance whether that happens. 

Lighting this fuckin pic was so enjoyable, like some of the most fun I’d had in a while. I don’t really remember why I did the glowing pool below them in place of a floor, beyond the motif of water, but i’m really glad I did. Junko? Amazingly fun to draw, I made the color palette a bit more muted this time around and I think duller colors really work for Junko, which is funny given how maxed out she normally is. Her hair, was so god damn fun to draw, oh my god. 

Fun fact! This pic was actually how I introduced myself to Bandit sometime earlier into the event, and they’re an absolute fuckin treat to talk to, very glad I worked up the confidence to do so. Definitely adds a bit more sentimental value to this art in specific!~ 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[green-socks]

2024 fic reading stats / AO3 Wrapped - Reader Edition

Last April I got the idea that I wanted to, in some form, get a better understanding of how much and how often I read fic, and some other stats as well. Obviously I knew the answer was a lot and often. But you know the urge to make lists and sort things when you're stressed? Yeah, that hit, so I started up a spreadsheet starting May 1st. In my spreadsheet I logged the date I had read the fic, the fic's title, author, fandom, ship, rating, and word count. I also added the AO3 link to the fic which has proven handy in looking up recs and stuff like that!

I just wanted to share some of those stats now that I've made lil graphs to go with them and everything lol

Starting with the totals:

Last year, from 1 May to 31 Dec, I read about 3,928,191 words of fanfic. (Now, that's the logged amount, but it's not... perfect. I won't go into detail but let's just state that that amount is still very telling!)

Total of different fics I read during the logged time was 478. (There are 479 logged entries but one of them was a reread, so.)

The most amount of entries for a single day was 8, and it happened three times lol. Two of those I know I was sick but idk what that third day was, probably a wonderfully lazy sunday.

Authors:

I logged at least 141 different AO3 authors. (Some people using several pseuds may have confused my count a little but give or take a couple!)

Here I have to shout out @fuddlewuddle because if I read 478 fics, 93 of those were hers. I don't even know what to say except that I'm glad our freaks match each other <3

A fun thing to note was that I myself made it on my top 10 list of "favorite" writers based on the amount of fics logged because I reread my own stuff frequently enough! That's kind of uplifting to think about. If sorted by word count, however, I am farrr from the top, because I tend to write shorter fics :D But I'm happy to keep it that way!

Fandom:

Showing off some percentages based on the 478 logged fics. Ahem, as you can see, Top Gun continues as the ruling fandom in my life, but there were some new smaller fandoms coming in as well! And that strange, two movie fandom fusion is, of course, courtesy of Fuddle...

If I were to sort these by word count instead, the percentages would stay pretty much the same, except Other fandoms would give a tiny bit of its slice over to Ted Lasso.

Ship:

Again, this is based on the total of 478 logged fics. Quelle surprise, I'm a hangster girl and there's a lot of that on the market, so 183 out of those 478 were hangster fics. Other ships here entails multi-ship fics (where the ships are equal instead of clear main ship & background ship type of thing), poly ships with a number of varying character combinations, and ships that had less than 5 logged fics with it as the main ship.

(The tiny red dot says roykeeleyjamie and it had 6 logs in total. The purple dot with the name not fully showing is macheresin with 10 fics.)

Rating:

This is again based on the total of 478 fics.

My own writing stats:

I posted 18,687 words' worth of fic last year (though some thousands of words haven't made it to AO3 yet, but were still written last year). As you can see, I am still very much a reader rather than a writer, but it's the best of both worlds, getting to do both!

Overall, I thought this was a fun experiment, and I'm going to keep up with my spreadsheet for the new year – because what is life without spreadsheets, really.

Guess if I realized I had forgotten to log at least one longer fic after finishing up the last of those graphs!!!! Sighhh

[arthrobug]

Am I one of the only people who thinks that writers and artists who make Killer, Ink, or whoever the mom when there's a shipkid involved or even just a simple relationship really odd?

They just make one of them the mom and sometimes have them act completely different (I mean WAY different) from canon- I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THAT'S STRANGE, RIGHT??

If it's because they have the headcanon or in the story it's canon that, for example, Nightmare is a trans woman, or the character has clearly stated they prefer to be called mother beforehand, than valid! But if they are both regarded as dudes, prefer masculine pronouns and identification, but then they're the mother simply because they 'are the more submissive/nicer one' (sometimes it's just because that individual character carried the child if it's mpreg), THAT'S REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE, MAN.

It's a relationship between two men, there is no automatic woman role. It is a child with two men as their parents, there is no automatic mother role.

If I used weird English or something seems confusing, please don't yell at me, just reblog or comment with a question about it and I'll reword what I meant 👍

Too long;Didn't Read: I'm weirded out that some creators basically unconsciously or consciously enforce heteronormative roles on fictional skeletons in relationships of all kinds.

[courfee]

it's been exactly a year since the last chapter of Operation Walburga's Arbitrary No Kissing Ever Rule and I still miss it. This scene is probably one of my favourite things I've ever written and I've wanted to draw it for forever, so now seemed like an appropriate time

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[lil-lemon-snails]

"I can't ignore what's under dancefloor boards, The rhythm of my heart a dead-as-disco beat, But I still move my feet, to slip out of this groove, I'm free" ~ 2econd 2ight 2eer, Will Wood, The Normal Album

I have been plagued with visions of LDR Sun every time I listen to this song and I NEEDED to get this out of my system @spadillelicious when do we get to smooch the boy pLEASE

v textless version and close ups under cut!! v

[skitskatdacat63]

This is my personal crossover event of the century

[scarymonsters-andsupercreeps]

The Miracle We Need

Chapter 5

<-previous next->

With Kakyoin and Avdol in the hospital, Holly uses this time to regroup. However, her rest is cut short by an uncanny new enemy.

Read on AO3 here!

No warnings as far as I’m aware, only a minor nightmare mention

Chapter 5: Try My Best, Be a Real Individual

Outside of the hospital in Aswan, after dropping off Avdol and Kakyoin, the remainder of the group stood to discuss their plans.

“What do we do?” Polnareff said. He’d recovered from his blood loss, so the doctors had agreed to let him leave. His leg was bound tightly, having 10 stitches. He was to use a crutch to make sure he didn’t rip them. He wore a spare pair of baggy gray cargo pants until he could buy a new white pair.

“We can’t afford to wait around here for long. Even though Holly isn’t sick, there’s the threat of DIO becoming too strong. Every day we don’t reach him is another day he gets to grow stronger,” Joseph said, touching his chin.

“The doctors said Kakyoin’s eyes are doing well with the first aid we did, and they’re healing rapidly. Maybe we can give him a couple days?” Holly said. “Avdol will probably be ready to go in that time.”

Holly thought back to Kakyoin. The boy suffered for the whole car ride. She had felt awful about it, and tried to make him as comfortable as possible, but it was really no use. The pain he’d been in must have been unbearable. Now, however, he was already much better. Just being in the hospital had perked him up, as well as having been healed by Holly. Avdol had not been much better. He slipped in and out of consciousness, although his wounds were not as severe and had taken the Hamon better, probably because Joseph was the one who healed him. Seeing Holly do it had inspired the old man.

Joseph nodded. “That’s reasonable. We need the time to regroup anyways. We’ll stay here for two days or until Avdol is better, whichever comes first.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Jotaro said. “Get supplies?”

“That, and rest. This will be a good chance for us to recuperate after so long without a good night’s sleep. I’ll even splurge on a good hotel!” Joseph said with a grin.

“Oh, I’ll buy some ingredients while we’re out. I’ll make everyone a big dinner to help stay strong. I’ll do dessert too,” Holly said. “Oh, and snacks for Kakyoin and Avdol!”

She saw Jotaro visibly perk up at the prospect of her making dinner. “Sure,” he said coolly. “I’ve got a few errands as well.” He adjusted his jacket, which was freshly mended from the fight yesterday. His shoulder was okay for now, but he wasn’t supposed to use it if he could help it.

Joseph checked his watch. “Alright, we’ll split up. We’ll go visit Avdol and Kakyoin around dinner whenever Holly finishes the food, so do whatever you want until then.”

Polnareff pouted. “What am I supposed to do? I have to use a crutch all day…”

“You could go book our rooms at the hotel and hang out there,” Holly said. “You should rest there if you can. Your leg will heal faster that way.”

“A nap does sound nice…” Polnareff said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Joseph opened his wallet and pulled out a few bills. “This should cover it. Get your sleep and then meet us at the fountain in an hour or so.”

As Polnareff limped away, Holly turned to Joseph and Jotaro. “I’m gonna go buy stuff for dinner, do either of you want to come?”

Jotaro grabbed his hat. “Go ahead.” Before anyone could speak he turned and walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Joseph blinked. “What’s got him in a bad mood?” He said to Holly.

She frowned. “I’m not sure. He probably need his space after that fight, though. It seemed like it was hard on him.”

Holly led Joseph down the sidewalk a ways, then realized something. “Where’s Iggy?”

Her dad shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it’s probably best to leave him be. He’ll probably follow Polnareff to the hotel so he can ruin his hair again.”

Holly cringed, recalling how many times Iggy had attacked Polnareff on the ride here. “Will we ever be able to clean up all the hair in the car? It’s everywhere.” She sighed and continued walking.

“Doubtful. How does Polnareff even have that much hair? Iggy’s been ripping it out in chunks and his goofy flat top is still untouched,” Joseph said, shaking his head.

Holly laughed. “Are you jealous, papa?”

Joseph stuck his chin up. “No! I still have a full head of hair, so there’s nothing for me to be jealous of.”

At the store, Holly pulled a list out of her pocket and studied it. The writing was tiny and covered the whole page. She took out her pen and crossed out a few items.

Joseph laughed. “You had that ready ahead of time?”

“Of course. What else was I supposed to do on that long car ride?” Holly smiled. “I was looking forward to making dinner for everyone, so I wrote down several ideas. We’ll buy whatever they have.”

“What did you cross out?” Joseph said curiously.

“Those were meals that Jotaro is neutral about. Now the only ones left are ones he likes. I’ll make one of his favorites so he’ll feel better.” She smiled, then her face immediately dropped. “Wait. Papa, does anyone have a food allergy? I didn’t even consider that!” She started to scribble more notes on the other side of the list.

“No, no! We’re all good. None that I know of. We’ve eaten tons of stuff.” Joseph waved his hands in a negative gesture.

Holly nodded. “Great!”

As Holly shopped, Joseph fidgeted. He felt antsy. It was a good thing to rest in Aswan for a few days, but whenever they were still he started to worry. The last time he’d felt like this consistently was back in his youth while training to fight the Pillar Men. He could barely even get a wink of sleep back then—the stress had been relentless. He hoped Jotaro wasn’t that way, the boy needed his rest.

One thing he’d always loved about Suzi was that she never fell for his tricks. She knew he was upset back then and was very gracious to him. He probably wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for her constant support in combination with being pushed to the brink by his competitiveness against Caesar. He missed her. He’d call her as soon as he had time at the hotel.

“Okay,” Holly said, placing an item into her basket. “That’s the main course.” She crossed out a few more words on her list. She hoped everyone would like the dinner she chose, but there was always next time if she messed up.

After a small silence, Holly decided to ask Joseph something that had been bothering her for a long time. “Papa, do you have nightmares?” She said quietly, touching her necklace. The calming effect worked momentarily, but quickly dissipated as her anxiety grew.

“Sometimes, yeah…why do you ask? Have you been getting them?” His brows furrowed in concern.

“Pretty often, ever since I woke up. I’m wondering if it’s because I have a Stand now. I’m directly connected to Jonathan’s body, or just DIO at this point.” She pursed her lips.

“Wait, you’re having specific nightmares?” His eyes widened.

She paused, collecting herself so she wouldn’t cry. “I usually see DIO…and I see Jotaro as well. He’s always injured or worse.” Her voice caught. “It’s horrible…”

Joseph quickly hugged her. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Have you been getting all the rest you need?”

“I think so…I’m not tired. I’m just…drained. I was so worried about Jotaro…”

“He’s fine, and he’ll be fine in the future. I promise you he’ll make it. He’s stronger than any of us could ever hope to be, and smarter too. Have faith in your son, Holly…he won’t die on you.” Joseph paused. “I know that won’t help the dreams, but I promise you they won’t come true.”

She nodded, her lip quivering. She held back her tears. She wasn’t about to cry in a public market. “Thank you, papa.” she touched her necklace again.

“Take it easy if you can…And tell me if your dreams ever change. I’m wondering if it’s an offshoot of my spirit photography.”

“If it’s that, doesn’t it mean the dreams will come true?” Holly said.

“Spirit photography can be misleading at times, and DIO has previously interfered with Hermit Purple. It’s very possible he’s doing something to you to try and break down your will. Don’t let him get to you, okay?” Joseph put a hand on her shoulder. She still felt like a little girl whenever he did that—his hands were so heavy, even the non-metal one.

“Okay,” Holly said, taking a breath to calm down. She wanted to believe him more than anything, but something about her dreams made her think they were real. She didn’t know when the time would come, but eventually she would need to save Jotaro’s life, and she had no idea if she’d be able to pull it off.

Holly trotted down the street. She was a touch late after dropping the groceries off at the hotel and making treats for Kakyoin and Avdol. Joseph had left early, saying something about going to a coffee shop with Polnareff and Jotaro. Holly was initially sad she didn’t have time to go, but on further reflection realized she didn’t really want coffee. She clutched the box of homemade sweets to her chest, putting on speed so she wouldn’t be any more late.

The buggy was parked to the side of the road, and three people stood around it. Joseph, Polnareff and…someone else. He was around Jotaro’s height, but it wasn’t him at all. The others were talking to him like they knew him. Holly assumed it was a friend they’d previously met while traveling and happened to run into again.

As she got closer, she caught a glimpse of the newcomer’s face. Her heart skipped a beat. This strange man’s face looked like Jotaro, but…wrong. Holly couldn’t quite place it, but this wasn’t her son. It was like someone had make one of those hyper-realistic wax figures of him. It was a perfect likeness, but definitely still wrong.

She didn’t know what to do. Joseph and Polnareff weren’t attacking him for now. They were probably going to try and catch him off guard and interrogate him about DIO. At the moment it meant playing along, she thought.

“Bonjour, Holly,” Polnareff said with a smile. “We were just about to leave, you’re just in time.”

“Everyone get in,” Joseph said, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Oh, I’d rather walk,” not-Jotaro said, starting to sweat. That immediately raised Holly’s suspicions. If the enemy didn’t want to be in the car, that likely meant he’d tampered with it.

Holly decided to put some pressure on him. she grabbed his hand. “C’mon, sit with me!” The impostor’s hands were cold and clammy, unlike Jotaro’s, which were always warm from being in his pockets. Not-Jotaro also had none of the abrasions Jotaro had picked up yesterday, although he did have old scars from earlier in the journey. Holly was somewhat impressed.

“Oh, no…I’m okay…Holly…” not-Jotaro didn’t seem to realize he was supposed to be her son. She was a bit flattered he hadn’t noticed her age, but unsure what he’d thought of instead.

“Hey, don’t disrespect your mother like that!” Joseph snapped. “At least you didn’t call her a bitch, but calling her Holly is rude. You’re old enough to know better.”

“It’s okay,” Holly said cheerfully. “I don’t mind!” She smiled at him. If it was the real Jotaro, he would have looked away, but this person just stared at her like a deer in headlights.

Holly looked at Joseph, slightly panicked. She didn’t know what to do about the impostor. He winked at her. Oh, so he had a plan. She decided to mess with the impostor until Joseph dealt with him according to whatever he was plotting. He had to go along with whatever she said, right?

“Anyways, we don’t have time for you to walk. Get in the car, it’ll be easier.” Polnareff shoved not-Jotaro into the backseat.

Holly got in next to him as Polnareff sat in the front passenger seat. She noticed an orange on the seat that had escaped the bag of them on the floor. She went to pick it up, but not-Jotaro snatched it before she could.

He quickly tossed the orange out the window, pretending he’d dropped it.

Holly masked her suspicion with a laugh. “Jotaro, you butterfingers!” She said. The orange was probably significant in some way, she thought. She didn’t know how. She needed more time to observe.

Not-Jotaro gave a strained laugh. “Yeah…”

He could have at least tried with the laugh, Holly thought. Jotaro’s laugh was nothing like that, not that this person would have any way of knowing. It was almost offensive for her to see such a sloppy rendition of her beloved son.

Holly leaned back in her seat. She was just getting irritated now. She hoped the real Jotaro was safe, but on second thought, an enemy this clueless would never be able to get one over on him. She took a breath to stay calm. The best way to defeat this enemy is to wait him out, she thought.

Polnareff suddenly spotted something in the rear-view mirror. “Hey, Mr. Joestar…it’s Iggy! He’s trying to catch up to us.” He leaned towards the mirror so he could see better. “He’s got an orange in his mouth. Did he steal that?”

So Holly was right about the orange…unless Iggy was just feeling generous, which she highly doubted. Iggy probably knew something she didn’t. She had no idea what.

A moment later, the dog jumped up and squirmed in through the open window, dropping the stray orange right onto not-Jotaro’s lap before sitting down next to Holly.

“NO!” Not-Jotaro shouted.

Polnareff snatched the orange. “Jotaro, where’s your cool exterior? It’s not like you to scream that way.” He paused. “Or is it, Holly? I could be wrong.”

“Oh, it certainly isn’t…” Holly said. She grabbed not-Jotaro’s hand. “What’s got you worked up, pumpkin?”

He stared at her. “Uhh, I meant…did you no-tice that cow over there?” He pointed.

She turned and looked. “Oh, so cute! I love cows, thanks for pointing her out!” She smiled. Internally, though, her thoughts raced.

Firstly, Jotaro would have been annoyed if she called him “pumpkin.” That was irrelevant, however, compared to the orange mystery…not-Jotaro seemed to want nothing to do with that one specific orange. It wasn’t like he had a phobia…a bag of them was sitting right at his feet. It had certainly been tampered with. But in what way? It couldn’t have been poison or he wouldn’t be scared of its presence, only of eating it. Unless it was a poison that could kill by touch or smell? No, that didn’t work either. If it was a strong poison like that, Iggy and Polnareff would probably be dead, as well as the impostor since he was the one who planted it here.

“You’re acting peculiar today, Mon ami. Could it be…” Polnareff said, looking back at not-Jotaro over his seat. “…that you’re a fake?”

Not-Jotaro visibly stiffened. Holly wasn’t sure what Polnareff’s game was, but she was curious how it would unfold. Holly wouldn’t have thought to just directly confront him, or was it more of a mind game?

“Uhh, good grief.” Not-Jotaro grabbed the brim of his hat. “What’re you even talking about?”

Holly laughed. This one was actually genuine, mainly because of how bad the impression was. “He’s just kidding around, silly!” She was slightly nervous about the group’s safety if they were to let on that they saw through his disguise. She hated to interfere with whatever Polnareff was planning, but the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to play it safe.

Polnareff paused. “Ugh, I’m bored.” He lit up a cigarette and held out the box to not-Jotaro. “Do that trick you showed me, would you?”

“Trick?” The impostor said. He was sweating heavily at this point.

Polnareff pointed to his mouth as he flipped the cigarette backwards, catching it and holding it with the lit side in the back of his mouth. He puffed smoke out of his nose and grinned.

Joseph chuckled. “Hey, you’ve gotten way better! Good work.”

Polnareff successfully turned the cigarette back, snickering. Not-Jotaro cut in. “Yeah, I can do that. It’s easy.”

Holly raised an eyebrow. She remembered Lisa Lisa teaching her that trick as a child, back when Holly still thought of her as Grandma. Lisa Lisa said it came from her husband’s family.

Except, of course, Holly was taught using candy instead of cigarettes.

It had apparently become a Joestar heirloom…Joseph must have passed it down to Jotaro without Holly knowing. She had no idea how far back in the Joestar line the trick went. The thought of her ancestor Jonathan, who she’d only ever heard the highest praise of, doing such a funny thing…She couldn’t help but smile.

Although she did wish Jotaro didn’t feel the need to smoke. She couldn’t exactly blame him for that, however, with how stressful this journey had become.

“Great. Do the one with five cigarettes, then,” Polnareff said, pulling out a handful of cigarettes from the box and thrusting them into not-Jotaro’s hands.

It would be pretty funny to watch him struggle and maybe even bump into him so he’d burn himself, she thought…but she had a better idea.

Holly grabbed the cigarettes. “You shouldn’t smoke…it’s bad for you. You should know better, sweetie!”

Polnareff shrugged, sheepish. “I suppose he is a bit young to be smoking…my apologies, Holly.”

“It’s alright…it just makes me so sad as a mother!” Holly said. She pinched herself to bring tears to her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry for getting emotional…” she faked a sob, burying her face in her hands.

Joseph glared at Polnareff, then not-Jotaro in the rearview mirror. “Apologize right now, both of you. No one makes my daughter cry and gets away with it,” he growled.

Holly rarely saw him this serious. That steely gaze was reserved for only the worst of offenses, and had only once been placed on Holly herself. She shuddered, recalling her teenage antics.

“I’m really sorry, Holly,” Polnareff said. “I wasn’t even thinking.” He put out his own cigarette. Holly felt bad. She had nothing against Polnareff…she hoped he realized she was only toying with the enemy and not actually upset with him. She’d make sure to mention it later.

Joseph shot a look at not-Jotaro that could have shredded him on the spot, or maybe melted him. “And what about you?”

The impostor froze for a moment, then turned to Holly, frantically rearranging his uncanny mannequin face into something vaguely apologetic. “I’m sorry…uh, mommy…” as soon as the last word escaped his mouth he realized his mistake.

Holly snorted, caught completely off guard. She held back a laugh, feigning more sobs. “Oh, it’s okay…I knew my little boy would understand…” she put her hands down. “I’m so proud of you…”

Not-Jotaro audibly sighed in relief when he received a positive reaction. Holly might cry from trying not to laugh. The real Jotaro would probably sell his soul before calling Holly “mommy,” especially in front of others. She could count on one hand the amount of times that happened once he was over the age of 10. She was shocked at the ignorance of this enemy. He might have had a chance of fooling her if he’d bothered to study Jotaro’s mannerisms and personality.

Polnareff slowly turned, exhaling from his nose. “Did I just hear you correctly?” He laughed. “‘Mommy?’” He laughed harder. “Are you buttering her up or what?”

“No,” not-Jotaro spat. “What’s your problem?”

“You really aren’t feeling well today, huh?” Polnareff said through a cackle. “You’re nearly 18, right? What 18-year-old still says ‘mommy?’”

“My 18-year-old!” Holly said dramatically, grabbing onto not-Jotaro’s arm. She was committed to making the most uncomfortable social situation possible. She snuggled against him. “Oh, I was so so worried you’d hate me after what happened between us…”

Not-Jotaro panicked again, as well as appearing to be very weirded out by her. “Oh, that? It was nothing…” he said uncertainly, trying to subtly shift and get out of her embrace. She didn’t want to be hugging this stranger, but it made her ruse funnier, so she’d commit. She tightened her arms.

By dismissing the intentionally ambiguous falling-out, he’d fallen right into her trap.

“Even though I got in a fight with your girlfriend back home and stabbed her with a kitchen knife?” Holly said the most outlandish thing that popped into her head, batting her eyelashes. “You finally forgive me? When we visited her grave you said you never wanted to see my face again!”

Not-Jotaro swallowed hard, probably starting to connect the dots in his head. She’d been trying to build up to him thinking she was completely overbearing and strange. “Uh…” he leaned further away from her.

“You really do?” She said, feigning a hopeful look. She hated to admit it, but she was having a lot of fun with this. She’d always wanted to be an actress when she was younger. Up front, Joseph and Polnareff shared a look, baffled.

Before the impostor could dig his own grave any deeper, Polnareff cut in. “Hey, Jotaro, how about we have an orange eating contest? Much safer than cigarettes.”

“I can allow that,” Holly said, sniffing theatrically and wiping a fake tear. “I’m so relieved you have such good friends, sweetie pie!” Yet another nickname Jotaro would hate.

Polnareff grabbed the orange Iggy brought back, tossing it upwards and snatching it out of the air. “Ugh, I hate peeling these…”

The blood drained from Not-Jotaro’s face and his mouth fell open. “Not that one!” He shouted frantically.

Holly racked her brain. What could he have possibly done to that orange to make him so scared of it? Why would he willingly be in the same car as it, in that case? Holly wasn’t familiar with the situation before she arrived, but something must have happened that he wasn’t planning on. Were they in immediate danger? She didn’t know whether to get serious.

What was Joseph planning?

“What now, Jotaro? What’s wrong with it?” Polnareff asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Uh, Iggy brought it back, right? Who knows where he found it?” Not-Jotaro gestured to the dog, who was politely sleeping on Holly’s lap.

Iggy probably brought it back because he realized he’d been tampered with. He was able to smell Geb, which meant that whatever this new enemy was up to was likely not going to escape his keen nose. Holly scratched his ears.

“It looks clean, but if it bothers you I’ll eat it. Grab another one from the bag,” Polnareff said.

Not-Jotaro froze for a split-second, paralyzed by panic. He suddenly howled in pain, clutching his stomach. “Stop the car! My stomach hurts!”

Holly’s suspicions were immediately raised. What was he getting at? “You have a tummy ache? Why didn’t you just say so?”

He folded in his seat, groaning loudly. “Ughh, I need to go now!” He fumbled with the door.

“We’re almost at the hospital, Jotaro…can’t you wait?” Joseph said.

“NO!” Not-Jotaro blurted. “No, it’s really bad! I’ll catch up later, I mean it!” He dove out of the car and stumbled to his feet.

“Hey, wait a sec!” Polnareff said, rummaging through the glovebox. “Take some toilet paper so you don’t ruin your underwear. At least be civilized.”

Not-Jotaro snatched the roll and took off running, barely remembering to thank him.

In the pause a moment ago, Holly had snuck the suspicious orange into the enemy’s pocket. She wondered what would become of him, but whatever happened, she couldn’t allow her friends to be harmed.

Holly watched him go, disappearing behind a rock in a cloud of dust. It was like something out of a cartoon.

Once he was out of earshot, Holly burst out laughing. She clutched at her sides, doubling over and wiping tears from her eyes.

Polnareff and Joseph glanced at each other as the old man parked the buggy in the hospital lot. “What’s so funny, Holly?” Joseph said.

“That was awful,” she said, barely able to speak from laughing so hard. She put a hand to her chest.

Suddenly, there was a loud blast that echoed across the horizon. It was shockingly close, and came from the same direction not-Jotaro had gone.

No way. She looked at Iggy. The orange…was it a bomb? She raised her eyebrows and the dog nodded, or at least he moved his head in a manner that could be interpreted as a nod. She didn’t know how to feel about this. On one hand she hoped the enemy wasn’t dead, but on the other hand he’d had every intention to kill them, so it was probably for the best.

“Are they doing construction over there?” Polnareff said, shading his eyes against the sun and leaning forward on his toes to try and see better.

Holly raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to speak, but Joseph cut her off.

“Jotaro!” He called, grinning and waving at the boy, who was sauntering towards them on the sidewalk.

Holly whirled around. She was absolutely delighted to see the real Jotaro. He looked as annoyed as ever, his eyes half-lidded as he regarded them with a touch of confusion.

“Where’d you come from? Weren’t you just…?” Polnareff said, scratching his head. “Did you get over your sickness that fast?

“Good grief, what are you talking about?” Jotaro grumbled.

Holly laughed. “Hey, he doesn’t know what happened…at least explain before you joke about it.”

“Huh?” Joseph said. “Are you feeling bad again, sweetie?” He placed his prosthetic hand on her forehead absentmindedly, then realized what he was doing and switched. “You feel okay…”

“Do you have some sort of super speed ability you never told us about? I don’t know how you got from the spot we dropped you off to all the way over here in such a short time,” Polnareff said to Jotaro, raising an eyebrow.

Holly blinked. “Wait, you’re not joking?” She paused. He had fallen for the enemy’s disguise? She supposed that was understandable, he hadn’t known Jotaro for as long as Holly.

“Well, yeah…it’s a reasonable question,” Joseph said. “I have to admit I’m curious as well.”

Holly stiffened, turning to face him. “What? You too? You both thought that was actually Jotaro in the car with us?” She grabbed his shoulders. “You’re being 100% serious and not pulling my leg?”

They stared at her. “…yeah?” Polnareff said. “Who else would it be?”

Holly pursed her lips. “Jotaro, were you in the car with us just now?”

“No,” Jotaro said. He was bent over fishing an orange out of the bag in the buggy. “I walked here. No clue what any of you are on about.”

“Oh my god!” Joseph said. “Was it an impostor?”

“Yes!” Holly practically shouted. “I thought you knew…why did you wink at me?” She put her hands to her head.

“Oh, I meant it to show you I was kidding around…” Joseph swallowed. “I, uh…didn’t realize the guy in the car was a fake.”

“So, Holly, you’re saying everything you did in the car was an act?” Polnareff asked.

She gaped. “You thought it was real? I was messing with him because I thought Papa had a plan!”

“I wasn’t sure what to think!” Polnareff put his hands up defensively.

“Neither I nor Jotaro would ever do anything that just happened,” Holly said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think we need to worry about the enemy, either. That explosion a second ago was the orange he was scared of.”

“It was a bomb?” Joseph exclaimed. “He was trying to blow us up…that’s…”

Holly sighed. She shook her head to try and get her thoughts together. She didn’t know whether to be mortified, angry, or just laugh until her lungs gave out.

Jotaro was leaning against the buggy eating an orange. Holly could tell he was enjoying watching Joseph and Polnareff make fools of themselves. “If the enemy’s out of commission there’s not a problem. Let’s go see how Avdol and Kakyoin are doing,” he said, pushing off the car and walking towards the hospital entrance.

Holly fell into step next to him. “Sorry about that. I guess I shouldn’t have betted on Papa. Polnareff I can understand, but Papa?”

“Doesn’t surprise me…They can be pretty dense,” Jotaro said. He was smiling ever-so-slightly. He offered her a portion of his orange and she quickly accepted.

“Yeah,” Holly said with a small laugh. As she opened the door, she heard a siren blaring in the distance. Turning, she noticed an ambulance racing down the road towards the ER.

As the paramedics unloaded the patient, Holly’s jaw dropped. It was the fake Jotaro as well as another small person. They were both mangled and bleeding, with some areas in temporary dressings. The two were rushed away on gurneys.

“H-his outfit—“ Holly said, completely in disbelief.

“It’s ugly as hell.” Jotaro crossed his arms, looking away disdainfully.

Holly cackled victoriously. “I knew it! That was the guy pretending to be you.”

Jotaro’s eyebrows shot up. “And they bought it?” He seemed to realize the extent of how bad the impostor’s disguise was. He looked embarrassed.

“And his acting was terrible on top of that,” Holly said. “It was a train wreck!”

Kakyoin perked up as he heard the door open, his pinkish hair swishing as he looked over. “Is someone there?”

“Yes!” Holly said, trotting over to the side of his bed. “We came to see you! How are you feeling?”

The boy beamed. “I’m doing a little better. Thank you for thinking of me.” He folded his hands on his lap, clearly trying not to touch the bandages over his eyes. “Did anyone else come with you, Miss Holly?”

“Yep, everyone’s here! Even Avdol. We brought him along since he was feeling up to a walk.” Holly grinned as the man carefully shuffled in, sitting down in a chair off to the side. He was fairly well recovered, in fact the doctors said he just needed a day or so.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Kakyoin said.

“I made you two some cookies,” Holly said, setting down the box. “They’re chocolate chip, would you like one?”

“Yes! Uh, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble…”

“Of course it isn’t! I made these just for you.” She fished out a cookie and gave it to him, lightly patting the top of his head. He stiffened at the touch. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Holly said sheepishly.

“No, it’s okay…that just reminded me of my mom, is all…”

Holly turned around from giving Avdol a cookie, feeling a pang of sadness. “Aw, sweetie…” she put her hand on Kakyoin’s shoulder. “You’ll be back home before you know it. I promise.”

Holly frowned. She couldn’t imagine what the poor boy was going through. He probably hadn’t seen his parents properly in months. She doubted he’d gone back to them while under DIO’s control. Kakyoin’s resilience inspired her.

“Thank you. I hadn’t realized how homesick I was until now.” He took a bite of the cookie and chewed for a moment before completely freezing. He quickly swallowed. “Miss Holly, these are delicious!”

“Agreed!” Avdol chimed in.

Holly smiled. “I’m so happy you all like them. I wasn’t sure what to make, so I went with a classic.” She remembered something, and reached into her bag. “I brought cards. I thought we could play some games together. We’ll take turns being your eyes, Kakyoin, how about that?”

“That sounds fun,” he said. “I’d love to.”

“Perfect! How about we play Go Fish?” Holly suggested. “Uh, unless you’re too old for it,” she added sheepishly.

“No, let’s do it,” Polnareff said, sitting down next to Kakyoin on the edge of the bed. “I’m great at Go Fish. We’ll win for sure.”

Kakyoin chuckled. “I’m fairly certain it isn’t skill-based…”

“Then you haven’t seen a real expert play.” Polnareff cracked his knuckles as the rest of the group pulled up chairs around Kakyoin’s side table and Joseph dealt out cards.

After a few turns, Kakyoin spoke. “Did anything interesting happen to you guys today?”

Holly grinned deviously. “I’m so glad you asked. In fact, we encountered a Stand user.”

Joseph and Polnareff groaned in unison. Jotaro put down a pair of cards after receiving one from Avdol.

Kakyoin laughed. “What happened?”

“His ability was to shapeshift—oh, got any 6’s?—and he turned into Jotaro.”

“Go fish,” Joseph said, cringing from embarrassment as she spoke.

Holly drew a card. “His disguise was realistic but…off. I knew something was wrong right away, but I might have fallen for it if his impersonation wasn’t garbage.”

“In what way?” Avdol said, curious.

“In every way!” Holly said, smacking down a pair of cards for emphasis. “It was honestly ridiculous.”

She continued to tell Kakyoin and Avdol all about it, sparing no details. She was getting lots of laughs and embellishing the story in areas. Eventually, one round of Go Fish stretched into many, and the afternoon stretched into evening.

“I’m sorry to cut the party short, but we’ve gotta get back to the hotel, and you two need to rest,” Joseph said as he gathered up the cards after a round.

Kakyoin nodded. “I understand. Thank you again for coming.”

“See you,” Jotaro said, touching the brim of his hat as he left the room.

Joseph tipped his own hat. “Bye-bye!”

As Avdol left and Holly was about to say her own goodbyes, she looked at Kakyoin and noticed wet stains on his bandages. “Are you alright, Noriaki?”

“Yeah, I’m alright…” he said with a sniff. “Sometimes my wounds, uh…leak.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” She crossed back to him and gently took his head in her hands, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”

Kakyoin sniffed again, looking away. “Thank you, Miss Holly.”

“Of course, sweetie.” She smiled softly. She thought of the boy as another son and was glad she could be here to comfort him. She hoped to be able to get him back to his real mother unharmed, but for now she was happy to be a stand-in.

She patted his head again, and turned to leave.

Holly gently closed the door, and as she walked down the hall she heard him cry in earnest. She closed her eyes, suddenly noticing the wetness on her own cheeks.

Thank you for reading!

[waywardstation]

PHIONE AKARI!

A lot of people have commented on the phione that Akari is holding in this post, so I thought I’d share some of these sketches that I’d been holding onto! (It is why I drew her holding one in the first place haha)

Ever since I came up with this fic concept for this, I’ve had this thought on my mind. I’m suprised there’s not a PLA fic about manaphy yet, where it swaps bodies between people and Pokémon. There’s a lot of potential there!

The concept initially had Akari turn into a buizel, but I thought a phione would fit better; its head ribbon reminds me of the back of Akari’s hairstyle!

Just like in the linked fic concept, Akari would have to make her way back from the coastlands to Jubilife somehow, and try to get Ingo to understand that she is now a phione, and needs his help getting her body back.

I’d like to write this as a fic at some point, it’s been in my head for a while!