#its giving me flashbacks to the Christmas rooms

[ultra-raging-ghost]

Just joined stream and I already love that alongside whatever enigma they're doing, when BBH gets bored he just spams mobs that's the funniest thing ever

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[whorekneecentral]

Tis' The Season

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: old friends reappear, flashbacks in italics, complicated relationships, expensive gifts cause it's lew lew duh, uses roscoe as an in, brocedes mention, alcohol and the consumption of, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, creampie, soft moments at be end.

Word Count: 2,668

Author's Note: love me some lew lew and he gives fuckboy turned lover boy so here we areeeeee

merry smutmas series

--

An old friend finds his way to your front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

A knock on the door startles you as you hung the ornament on your Christmas tree. You shout that you're coming, grabbing your wallet out of your purse, as you jog to your front door. You assumed it was your take-out delivery guy and that's not who it was when you opened the door.

The man smiles at you, bags in hand and puppy between his legs. "Hi beautiful," Lewis smiles at you, bundled up in his winter coat.

You huff, looking at him. "Hi Lewis.. what are you doing here?"

He lifts the bags, showing you. "Happy holidays, y/n. I come bearing gifts."

"Seriously?" You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, Roscoe barks and gets your attention, you crouch down to pat his side, the dog leaning into your hand before waddling his way into the house. Lewis doesn't stop him, smiling at you.

"Are you gonna let me in, love? Roscoe is already inside, it'd be rude to let me freeze out here."

You don't have the heart to let them freeze, especially since you know how Roscoe loves him so much.

You let Lewis in, the man takes his shoes off by the door and follows you down the hallway to the living room. Roscoe had already made himself comfortable, shaking off the cold, and lying down by the fireplace. Despite you and Lewis not talking for years, you had left Roscoe's dog bed by the fireplace, as it had always been, picking it up to clean and setting it back in its spot.

Lewis sets the bags on the coffee table, hanging his coat off the arm rest of your couch. "I didn't know if you still live here."

"Well now that you do, I'll have to move, won't I?"

He chuckles, smiling to himself - nice to see your sense of humour has remained.

"Go on, open 'em." He nods towards the gifts on the table. You were adjusting an ornament on the tree, "I don't want it, Lewis."

"Oh hush, don't be annoying, y/n. Just open it."

You rolled your eyes, sitting across from him on the couch and picking up the first bag, the shape was a give away. Carefully, you pulled the bottle of wine out of the bag, some expensive French wine that you two had once upon a time when you took a trip to France. You read the label, setting it down on the table gently.

"Expensive," you eye him and he smiles. "Open the other one." He says quietly, watching as you tear the wrapping paper.

You freeze, the orange box staring back at you, the signature black and white ribbon around the box; Hermes Paris written across the top.

"Lewis.." You look at the man and he nods, waiting for you to go on. You carefully undo the ribbon, taking the lid off of the box. There's clearly a bag in the box, wrapped in a dust bag.

You feel underdressed and dirty, as if you should have showered before opening such a gift. You take the purse out of the dust bag, a Birkin in Bougainvillea - the same shade you had seen so many years ago.

His arm rested over your shoulders, the two of you cuddled on the couch as Lewis flipped through the tv channels. Formula One had wrapped up for the 2008 season and your dearest friend Lewis was now a Formula One world champion.

You, on the other hand, were still in med school.

Lewis had come home for the holidays, a yearly tradition of trashy Christmas movies and Chinese take out had commenced, Lewis picking out something for you two to watch as you flipped through the magazine.

"This one," you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder. "I want this one." You show him the bright pink Birkin bag - in the shade Bougainvillea. It's unrealistically, shockingly pink but it was the newest colour in the collection and you wanted it.

"I'm gonna get this for myself when I finish med school and I'm a rich surgeon."

Lewis smiles, "I'll get it for you, love. No need to wait so long, consider it your med school graduation gift." He kisses your head.

They don't make this colour anymore, you're sure it must have cost Lewis a fortune. "How did you even.. they don't make this colour anymore." You examined the bag, setting it back into the dust bag carefully.

"I know people, y/n."

You hum, "it's too much."

"It's your gift, y/n. I promised you, didn't I?"

You smiled, nodding as you carefully set the bag back into the box. "Thank you Lew, really."

The man smiles, it's been years since he's heard you call him Lewis. You two had a falling out a while back, right after his first championship win with Mercedes - you didn't like the way he treated you, pushed you off to the side as if you hadn't been there for him through it all. Lewis was and still is career driven, it has and will always take first priority to him but it ruined your friendship and it had ruined the same special bond he had with Nico.

In this moment, you let all that go.

The doorbell rings, intruding on your thoughts. "Expecting someone?" Lewis asks, glancing at you as you set the Hermes box on the coffee table.

"No.. oh wait yeah, the take out guy." You say, getting up. Lewis waves you off, getting up and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. "I'm not a broke med student anymore, Lewis. I can afford to pay for dinner."

"As can I, so hush." He says, making his way down the foyer to the front door, paying the man.

You can hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, the man thanks him before the door shuts.

The bags are taken to the kitchen and you see him looking around, clearly looking for something. You decide to put him out of his misery, getting up to help him look for plates. Lewis stops, leaning on the counter as he watches you get the dishes out of the cupboard.

"I'm sorry." He says, his words catching you off guard.

Your brows furrow, looking at him. "What for?"

"For everything. What happened in the past… That was between us and I know that it was my fault, and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I truly am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I would just like to start over if you give me the chance."

"Okay," you nod, setting the plates on the table.

"Okay."

He joined you at the table, the two of you sitting quietly and eating dinner like you've done many times over the years. Tonight was different though, there was a sense of relief in the air as if this tension had been lifted off your shoulders after so many years. The quiet sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes and Roscoe's snores coming from the fireplace filled the house.

At some point after dinner, you were putting the dishes in the sink and Lewis asked if he should open a bottle of wine that he brought. You shrug, reaching into the cabinet to get the glasses while Lewis pulls the cork out of the bottle before filling the glasses half way.

The house is quiet as the two of you sit on the couch, Lewis handing you a glass of wine. It's a comfortable silence, Lewis takes a sip of his wine as he looks over at you; he can't help but notice how you've aged beautifully over the years, not in a you look old sort of way but the maturity you've come into seems to suit you perfectly.

Next to him, you seem to make the same realization but with him. Lewis what is a baby faced, starting to find himself boy when you two had you falling out. Now he was grown, and even more handsome than the day you had walked away from him.

You take the first step, setting the glass down on the coffee table before reaching for Lewis's glass, setting it with yours.

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife, the two of you sitting there in silence, inching closer and closer with each passing second until he finally closes the gap between the two of you.

Lewis's hands find your hips, the man pulling you onto his lap. You settle against him as if you had always been there. His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping under your shirt.

"No," you whispered, your hands wrapping around his wrists. Lewis looked at you confused, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"What?"

"We can't do this here."

"Why not?" He asks and you nod towards Roscoe, the dog still fast asleep by the fireplace.

Lewis can't help but laugh, his forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Love, he's asleep. It's fine."

"Oh my god," you smacked his shoulder, "that doesn't mean we're gonna fuck in front of him."

He raises an eyebrow, "we're gonna fuck?"

"Don't be a fuckboy, Lew." The man ignored your words, his arms wrapping around you, picking you up with ease, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom. Despite the years he hadn't spent there, nothing's changed.

Lewis drops you on the bed and you propped yourself up, watching him get undressed before he sits next to you, his hand cups your jaw and you smile at him. “Hi,” you whisper. 

“Hi,” he smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your nose and you scrunch it in response. “You’re cheeky.” 

“You love it,” he says, kissing your nose again. 

Lewis leans down a bit more and kisses you but you pull away, sliding off the bed. “We can't.” You tell him, about to walk away but he grabs your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders, sliding up to rest on his jaw. His beard tickles the palm of your hand as you look at him. Lewis doesn't have to say anything and all the worries seem to slip away in the moment, it was as if you hadn't spent a single day apart.

The man pulls you down on top of him, his hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist as you sit yourself on his lap. 

“We-” you go to remind him once more but he cuts you off with a kiss. Lewis flips the two of you over, letting you lay on your back when he gets off the bed, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Lewis always fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire.

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the lace you’re wrapped up in under your clothes and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor. He shifts to sit on his knees between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking; he wants you to look at him.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Lewis knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Lewis gives in.

Two fingers pushing into you, Lewis glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. Lewis pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

Your chest heaving, your grip on his hair loosening now that you’re right on the edge, you’re almost there and he just has to - he’s stopped. 

“Why'd you stop?” You sit up, a pout on your lips when you look at the man between your legs. 

“Shush, you love hanging on the edge,” Lewis tells you with a smile, unbuttoning his pants. 

He lines himself up with you, and Lewis lets you take him little by little, pulling out almost all the way each time before finally pushing into you all the way. He's in charge and you both know it, letting him set the pace; slow and steady and it was driving you insane.

You needed him.

You didn’t want slow, you wanted it hard and messy, the type of fuck where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

“Lew, come on.” Your hand reaches to rest on his hand that’s on your hip. “Need more.”

“Do you?” He hums, moving a little faster.

You know giving him attitude won’t help but you can’t help but roll your eyes, “more than that.”

“Needy,” he calls, pulling you closer by your legs.

Finally, you get what you want, Lewis’s hips hitting the back of your thighs, he leans over you and your arms are pinned about your head, both legs up on his shoulders now. The angle was enough to push you over the edge but he didn’t care.

“Lew please-” you tried to wiggle your hands loose but he didn’t budge. 

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, mockingly, “isn't this what you wanted?” 

“It is, but-” your head tosses back, back arched when he hits the spot he was looking for. 

“Oh,” he coos, smiling at you. “Is my baby so fucked out, she can’t even tell me what she wants?” His thrusts are sloppy, you knew he was just as close as you were. 

“Gonna cum-” you barely get out between strangled moans. Lewis finally lets go of your wrists and one of his hands has wrapped around your throat.

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches for you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.

“Look at me when you cum.”

You’re forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, focusing on him. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge.  He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Lewis follows behind you. 

The two of you are still tangled together, laying in bed next to each other. Lewis looks over at you, you look back at him with a sleepy smile on your face.

"Should I.."

"Should you.." you trailed off, waiting to hear what he says. Lewis shrugs, "should I go home?"

You take a moment to think, not about kicking him out - that was never an option but perhaps the things that lead you here.

There's a noise from outside the door, a sort of scratching. Seems like Roscoe had woken up and came looking for you two. Lewis takes the hint, getting up to open the door for the dog. You put on your shirt and your panties and Lewis lets Roscoe in, the dog jumping up on the bed with some assistance from his dad.

Lewis gets under the covers with you, Roscoe settled at the edge of the bed. You look over at Lewis, his hand resting on yours.

"I think you should." You tell him quietly and Lewis's brows furrow, a pout forming on his lips. "I should?" He asks.

You nod, "you should stay."

Lewis lets out a soft sigh, smiling. His hand squeezes yours gently. "I'll stay."

---

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[cosmicflw3rr]

visions of gideon.

jeff atkins x fem! reader

summary: you have to speak at your boyfriends memorial service, in the process bringing up a bunch of old memories making you break.

A/N: I’ve been finishing 13 reasons why and I couldn’t help but write for jeff, my obsession of the month, I also don’t mind writing for any other characters🫦

you stood in your room, staring into the mirror, expecting to see a familiar face staring back at you.

but the person reflected in the glass wasn't you. Instead, the eyes that met yours were empty, devoid of the spark that once defined you.

what you saw was merely a shell of the girl you used to be, a ghost of your former self. the vibrant, confident person you once knew had faded, leaving behind a stranger you could hardly recognize.

you were brought out of your trance by a voice. you closed your eyes, trying to ground yourself before looking at your door and seeing clay. he was one of the only friends your boyfriend had that you actually liked.

clay was always kind to jeff, always there to help him out when he needed it. "are you ready?" clay asked gently, his voice soft and understanding. you inhaled softly, taking one more look in the mirror, trying to muster the strength you needed.

the truth was, you weren't ready. you weren’t ready to face the truth. for fucks sake your boyfriend was dead, and the weight of that reality was crushing you. the memories of him flashed through your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what you had lost.

the room felt colder, and the air seemed heavier as you struggled to find the words. the pain was still raw, and the thought of facing the world without him was almost unbearable.

your eyes fell on your dresser before looking back to clay. “yeah, give me a second,” you told him softly. he looked at you for a moment, but it wasn’t the look you were expecting.

you expected him to look at you like everyone else did—like you were fragile glass that could shatter with the wrong word, glance, or touch.

Instead, clay looked at you with understanding, It was a look that said he understood, not that he was pitying you, and he wouldn’t understand it, but it was all that you needed in that moment.

he nodded, a small but meaningful gesture, before quietly heading downstairs, leaving you in your room.

your eyes fell back on your dresser, more specifically the framed picture of you and jeff. you walked over to it picking it up, you gently ran your fingers over it. smiling softly as you examine it.

It was taken last christmas, it was dark and snowing, bright christmas lights scattered in with the trees behind the both of you. he was stood behind you his arm wrapped against your neck, your hand was on his forearm the both of you smiling widely.

as you stare at the photo, the world around you fades, and you find yourself transported back to that moment.

flashback.

the two of you walked slowly down the narrow path, your fingers intertwined as you both took in the display of lights that adorned the park.

as you reached the end of the path, you found yourselves standing before a grand tree, its branches adorned with a cascade of twinkling white lights. "that’s what I’d imagine the stars would look like in a perfect place," you murmured to jeff, your eyes filled with wonder as you gazed up at the shimmering lights. jeff, however, had his eyes fixed on you, captivated by your expression of awe.

"this is perfect enough for me," he said, you looked at him realizing he wasn’t looking at the lights but at you. with a soft laugh, you turn to meet his gaze.

"your’re so annoying," you chuckled, playfully nudging him as he shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm just speaking my truth," he replied with a shrug.

"yeah, whatever," you responded, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. you turned your attention back to the lights. "I'm talking about the lights, though."

unbeknownst to you, jeff had slipped away from your side. he was now crouched in the snow, gathering it into a compact ball. "I see them, baby. I was just saying," he called out, his voice filled with mischief.

you shook your head, still focused on the mesmerizing lights, when suddenly you felt a cold, wet impact on your arm. startled, you turned to see jeff grinning mischievously at you, a fresh snowball in hand. "jeff!" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of surprise and amusement.

"what?" he laughed, trying to play it off as innocent, as if you hadn’t just caught him red-handed in the act.

"oh, that’s how you want to play?" you challenged, darting to the other side of the path, quickly scooping up some snow and forming it into a snowball. with a swift motion, you hurled it at jeff, hitting him squarely on the shoulder.

"oh, you are so on, y/l/n," he declared, his eyes sparkling with the reflection of the lights. he swiftly retaliated, launching another snowball in your direction.

the snowball fight escalated quickly. you ducked behind a nearby bench, gathering more snow to create more snowballs.

jeff mirrored your actions, crouching behind a tree as he prepared his own snowballs.

they flew back and forth, some hitting each other while others missed, breaking apart.

you laughed as one of jeff's snowballs grazed your arm, sending a cold shiver down your spine. "I thought you play baseball atkins?” you called out teasingly. “you’re gonna have to do better than that!" you stood up to launch a perfectly aimed snowball that caught jeff right in the chest.

jeff responded with a flurry of snowballs, forcing you to dive behind a nearby bush for cover. you peeked out, spotting jeff as he tried to sneak closer.

quickly, you formed another snowball and lobbed it over the bush, hitting him on the chest again.

"I taught you well." jeff called out, grinning. he took a running start, gathering snow as he went, and launched a snowball that caught you off guard, hitting you on the back.

giggling, you gathered more snow and threw it back at him. "call a truce!" jeff yelled. you shook your head, running to take cover behind a tree. you peeked out from behind the tree, trying to see him, but you couldn’t.

you giggled softly as you turned back and screamed when you saw him standing right in front of you. jeff immediately put his hand over your mouth, giggling as he did.

"y/l/n, people are gonna think I’m murdering you back here," he laughed softly, making you laugh too. after a second, he removed his hand from your mouth, still chuckling. you both stood there, breathless from laughter and the cold, the snow continuing to fall gently around you.

"truce," you said, sticking out your pinky and looking up at him with a playful smile. he rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin as he linked his pinky with yours.

"truce," he repeated, his smile widening. you smiled and he extended his hand. “let’s head back.”

you nodded, and the two of you made your way back onto the path. jeff carefully helped you trudge through the thick, heavy snow, ensuring you wouldn't slip or fall. your hold on his forearm strong.

the snow crunched beneath your boots with each step, and you could feel the cold nipping at your cheeks.

you guys managed to make it back onto the path. "I think in order to seal our truce, we should take a picture," you suggested, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. he looked down at you, a smirk spreading across his face as the idea amused him.

"I think that’s a good idea," jeff said, his smile softening as he reached into his pocket to pull out your phone. you both huddled together, the cold air making your cheeks a rosy pink.

your back pressed firmly against his chest, and he loosely wrapped his forearm around your neck, he leaned his head against yours.

you grabbed his arm with one hand for balance, leaning into him while you raised your phone to snap the picture.

as you both looked at the picture, you couldn't help but smile at it. "perfect now it’s sealed" he said, grinning as you saved the photo. jeff chuckled, his breath visible in the frosty air.

you laugh softly, the sound mingling in the crisp air. jeff glances at your phone time, then back at you with a soft smile. "let's hurry up and finish this so I can take you to get hot chocolate at monet's after," he says, before he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer for warmth as the two of you turn around to walk back up the path.

end of flashback.

a tear falls down your cheek, you quickly wipe it. remembering the feel of jeff's arms around you, the sound of his laughter—it all comes rushing back and for a brief, beautiful instant, it's as if he's right there with you again.

you take a deep breath, knowing that in just a few moments, you'll need to stand before everyone at his memorial service to honor his life and the love you shared. but for now, you just want to imagine that he is here next to you, that everything is okay, that everything is perfect.

after a moment, you sigh softly and place the photo back down on the dresser. you kiss the tips of your fingers before gently touching the picture one last time. then, you grab the paper filled with your heartfelt words, written meticulously from front to back.

leaving your room, you close the door gently behind you. as you walk down the stairs, you stop on the last step and see your parents and clay speaking in hushed voices. they don’t notice you right away, forcing you to clear your throat softly. the three of them turn to look at you, a bit startled. “hey, honey,” your mom says gently, moving over to you as you step onto the floor.

“you friend clay is going to ride with us over there,” she explains. you nod, clutching the paper tightly, afraid to let it go. clay glances down at the paper, understanding that it holds your speech, the words you’ve prepared to say goodbye.

she gives you a small smile, grabbing your hand gently. you smile back at her weakly.

the drive to the school was silent, the only sounds being the hum of the car engine and the occasional whoosh of passing vehicles. It was almost ironic that it was raining, the droplets on the window creating a mesmerizing pattern as they slid down.

your parents finally arrived at the school, and you all stepped out of the car, walking into the gym where the rest of the school had gathered.

the gym was filled with a somber atmosphere, the low murmur of conversations blending with the soft patter of rain outside.

your parents turned to you with gentle expressions. "we'll be sitting next to jeff's parents if you need us," your mom said softly, her voice filled with understanding and support. you looked at her, managing a tight-lipped smile.

you dad stepped forward, pulling you into a warm embrace and kissing you gently on the head. you mom followed, wrapping you in a comforting hug, holding you close as if to shield you from the pain for just a moment longer.

after a moment she pulls back smiling sadly before they walked away, leaving you and clay standing together, your emotions still swirling in your head. "I can’t do this, clay," you told him, inhaling sharply.

he turned to you, his eyes filled with worry and confusion. "what do you—"

you shook your head, feeling the urge to run out of the gym right then and there. "I mean I can’t go up there and talk in front of everyone."

clay's expression softened, and he placed a his hand on your shoulder. "hey, listen to me. I know it's hard,and I know what I’m about to say is corny, but it’s true.” he paused trying to find the right words. “jeff would want you to be strong. he believed in you, and he’d want you to believe in yourself too."

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "just take it one step at a time," he continued, his voice steady and comforting. "If you need to go outside for a moment, I'll go with you."

you nodded, you watched as principal bolan walked up to the stand. "we are gathered here today to remember and honor jeff, a bright young man who had a bright future ahead of him," he began, his words echoing through the silent gym. he called up jeff’s parents, your heart ached as you took them in.

as you watched them take their place behind the stand you looked at their faces which were etched with grief, your mind began to race. memories of jeff flooded your thoughts, but you couldn't seem to focus on any single one.

the room seemed to close in on you, and the weight of the moment made it hard to breathe.

your thoughts were a chaotic jumble, making it impossible to think straight.

suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. It was clay bringing you back to reality. you took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. principal bolan's voice broke through your haze, "and now, jeff’s parents would like to invite his girlfriend, y/n to the stand."

you took a deep breath and slowly walked up to the stage, each step feeling heavier than the last. your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the microphone. as you reached the stand, you hesitated for a second, gathering your thoughts and trying to calm the whirlwind in my mind.

you then stepped up to the microphone, the cold metal sending a shiver through your fingers. you adjusted it slightly, the sound of your movements amplified through the speakers.

finally, you lifted your gaze and looked out at the sea of faces sitting on the bleachers. the room was filled with people, some faces you recognized, others you didn’t. the collective silence was almost overwhelming.

you cleared your throat, hoping to dislodge the lump that had formed there. the sound echoed slightly, breaking the heavy silence for a brief moment. you took another deep breath, unfolding the paper.

your trembling fingers ghost over the words you have written down, you looked to clay who nods.

taking another deep breath, you began, "I- I never thought I’d have to write this. call me naive, but I thought jeff and I would be together until we were old and had gray hair." you let out a humorless laugh at the unrealistic dream. "If a year ago, someone had told me I’d be standing here, giving this speech, I’d have never believed them. but here I am."

you inhale sharply, feeling the tears sting your eyes. "I remember the day I met jeff like it was yesterday. It was two years ago." you read the words off the paper, recounting the memory that was now so long ago. but you didn’t need to. you knew that day was etched into your memory forever.

"It was here, in this school," you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "I was walking to the library, I had books in my hand, i remember I was so stressed-“

flashback.

you hurried through the somewhat empty hallways, your mind racing with the sheer number of tasks you needed to complete before the end of the day.

the pressure was mounting, and it felt like you had about fifty things to do in such a short amount of time.

just as you were mentally organizing your to-do list, someone collided with you forcefully, sending your belongings scattering to the ground and causing you to stumble back a step.

you frustration peaked as you looked up and recognized the culprit—montgomery de la cruz. “what the fuck, monty?!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with exasperation. he continued walking past you, his arms raised in a gesture of surrender.

“sorry, y/n,” he called back, not even breaking his stride. you rolled your eyes, annoyance bubbling up inside you as you bent down to gather the scattered papers that had fallen from your grasp and were now strewn all over the floor.

you let out a huff of frustration, “you’re a dick!” you exclaimed, your voice echoing in the hallway. just then, you heard another voice chiming in.

“come on monty.” the voice said, you looked up and saw a baseball player standing there. you couldn’t recall his name, but you definitely recognized him—he was one of the jocks, one of liberty highs golden boys.

you glanced back at monty, who was laughing cockily as he made his way outside to the fields.

shaking your head, you returned to picking up your scattered papers. just as you were about to reach for one that had landed a bit farther away, someone else picked it up for you.

you looked up to see the guy who’d said something, he was one of monty’s friends. “oh, thank you,” you said, standing up and trying to organize your papers as he handed you the ones he had picked up.

“sorry he’s such an ass,” he said laughing, a hint of apology in his voice.

you rolled your eyes and let out a dry laugh. “there’s no need to apologize for him. believe it or not I’m used to monty,” you replied with a sigh, making the guy chuckle.

dot a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, just looking at each other. then he broke the silence. “my name’s jeff.”

“y/n,” you said, and he smiled warmly.

end of flashback.

“a few days after that, we started talking, and before I knew it, we were inseparable.” you choked on your words, your voice trembling with emotion. “I thought we were inseparable.” you paused, inhaling softly, trying to steady yourself.

“every moment jeff and I spent together was perfect. he was the perfect boyfriend—thoughtful, caring, and always there when I needed him.” you paused again, a tear slipping from your eye, tracing a path down your cheek. “he was the best thing that ever happened to me. I thought he was my forever, but I had seemed to forget that nothing is forever.”

you paused once more, your eyes welling up with tears, your vision blurring. your voice broke as you continued, the pain evident in every word. “the night I found out jeff died was like having the ground ripped out from under me. It felt as if my entire world had shattered in an instant.”

flashback.

the music was blaring, reverberating through every corner of jessica’s house, which was packed with people. the air was thick with the mingling scents of various perfumes and colognes, mixed with the unmistakable aroma of beer, snacks and sweat.

as you weaved your way through the crowd to the living room where you had left jeff to go to the bathroom. you stopped seeing he was no longer there and that a group of people had begun to play such and blow in yours and his spot on the couch. you began to scan the room for familiar faces, until you finally spotted sheri in the kitchen.

you made your way over to her pushing past people, “hey sheri,” you called out as you finally made it to her, raising your voice to be heard over the deafening music. she looked up from her red solo cup, a bright smile spreading across her face as she recognized you.

“hey y/n!” she responded.

“what a party, hmm?” you remarked looking around at the lively scene around you.

“yeah, it’s wild!” she replied, taking another sip from her cup. you watched as she seemed to focus on something else.

you looked around trying to find jeff so you could let sheri enjoy her night. “have you seen jeff?” you asked, glancing around the crowded room once more.

she pointed towards the front yard. “he’s out there talking to clay.”

with a grateful nod, you navigated your way through the crowd of people, finally stepping outside into the cooler night air.

there, amongst the scattered groups of people, you spotted jeff and clay.

a smile spread across your face as you made your way towards them. “clay, is jeff bothering you?” you called out teasingly, causing both boys to turn and look at you, jeff looking at you with an amused expression.

“hey baby,” jeff greeted you, his face lighting up with a wide grin. “I was just trying to convince clay here to stay a while longer.”

“I’m going home,” clay responded, his expression tinged with frustration. he made a move to leave, but jeff quickly intervened.

“just hang with me and y/n for a while, man.” clay’s gaze shifted from jeff to you, and you offered him a gentle, reassuring smile.

clay was one of the few friends of jeff’s that you genuinely liked, the only one who seemed to truly care about him. “I’m going on a beer run soon, come with me.”

your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you looked at jeff. “are you driving?” you asked, the worry evident in your voice.

jeff turned to face both you and clay, holding up his solo cup. “It’s coca cola, my friend and beautiful girlfriend,” he assured you. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully at his response.

to be absolutely certain, you took the cup from jeff’s hand and tasted it, confirming without a doubt that it was indeed coca cola. jeff rolled his eyes playfully at your cautiousness, leaning in to plant a light, affectionate kiss on your cheek as you handed his cup back. “It’s coke,” you told clay, feeling a bit more at ease now.

jeff, sensing your lingering concern, added, “I had two beers, two hours ago. I’m good.”

you nodded, feeling a bit more reassured by his explanation. you and jeff had been to your fair share of parties together over the past two years, and he always made sure he was sober when he drove. you trusted him.

“no. no,” clay said, shaking his head. you could tell something was up with him, but it wasn’t your place to pry. “thanks, jeff. I'm gonna take a long walk home and consider the wreckage that is my life.”

you eyes softened with empathy, and jeff shook his head. “you're a funny dude, clay.”

“so I've been told,” clay said with a hint of resignation in his voice. “see you both monday?” he asked.

“yeah,” jeff replied, taking a step back as he watched clay begin to walk away.

“take care of yourself clay,” you added, he looked back at you and nodding with a tight-lipped smile.

you heard the guys shout clay’s name as he started to walk away. “see you guys,” he told them before continuing.

you and jeff shared a concerned look, both of you clearly worried about him. “he didn’t look too good,” you said, watching clay as he walked off into the distance.

“no, he didn’t,” jeff agreed, also watching as clay left. you turned to jeff, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his hands instinctively found your waist, holding you close.

“you’re a good friend,” you told him, examining his face as he finally tore his eyes off clay to look at you with a soft, contemplative expression.

“I try,” he responded modestly, causing you to tilt your head slightly at his humble words.

“he’s lucky to have you,” you said with sincerity, and he smiled softly before leaning in to kiss you.

the kiss was soft, slow, and sweet. It lasted just a moment before he pulled away. “well, I’ve gotta go on this beer run. wanna come?” he asked.

you pulled away from him, grabbing your phone to check the time, wincing as you read it. “I would, but I can’t. I’ve got a curfew,” you replied regretfully.

jeff groaned playfully, but you knew he understood. you laughed, rolling your eyes. “I know, I know. I would stay longer, but I’m already in trouble for pushing it last weekend.”

he admired your face, gently moving a loose strand of hair out of your eyes. “nah, baby, I get it,” he said with a reassuring smile.

you smiled, giving him another kiss, savoring the moment before he grabbed your hand and led you towards his car. “shit, sheri’s blocking me in. I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, letting go of your hand and disappearing into the house to find her.

you pulled out your phone, quickly texting your parents to let them know you’d be home in about ten minutes. just as you hit send, you felt a hand gently rest on your waist.

you turned around and smiled at jeff. “well, sheri has to get her keys, so in the meantime, I’ll walk you to your car,” he said with a charming grin.

“such a gentleman,” you teased, laughing softly. your laughter was contagious, and jeff chuckled too as the two of you began the short walk to your car parked on the other side of the street.

“I try,” he joked, making you smile as you unlocked your car. jeff opened the door for you, ensuring you were safely inside before closing it gently.

you put on your seatbelt and turned to look at him. he had his arms resting on the base of your window, his head comfortably perched atop them.

you smiled at him, feeling a warm sense of contentment. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, your voice hopeful.

he smiled lopsidedly, his eyes twinkling. “of course,” he replied, the promise hanging in the air as you started your car.

you looked into his eyes, feeling a strange but compelling feeling. “okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you told him gently, trying to make out the unfamiliar way he was gazing at you. It was different, more profound than ever before.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he echoed, leaning his head into your car and pressing his lips to yours. the kiss lingered, neither of you wanting to pull away, savoring every second of the connection.

when he finally did pull back, jeff kept his eyes closed for a moment, a serene smile playing on his lips. when he opened his eyes, they sparkled with a warmth that made your knees feel weak. “I love you, y/l/n,” he said softly, the words filled with sincerity.

“I love you too, jeff,” you replied just as softly, your heart swelling with emotion. he tapped gently on the base of your window, a tender gesture.

“alright, drive safe, baby. sweet dreams,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

“sweet dreams,” you repeated, watching as he winked at you before walking off into the night.

you laughed softly to yourself, before finally driving off.

——

It was the morning after the party, and you slowly stirred awake, turning around in your bed to look out the window. the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in the room.

you weren't quite ready to get up yet, so you lay there for a few moments, savoring the peace and quiet.

with a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and slowly sat up, feeling the weight of sleep still lingering. your gaze drifted to your nightstand where your phone lay.

you reached for it, expecting to see a text from jeff. however, the screen remained blank—no message, no response to the texts you had sent last night. a knot of worry began to form in your stomach.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you typed out a quick message.

good morning

did you get in safe last night?

pls text me when you get this.

I love you

after hitting send, you sighed again and headed to the bathroom, hoping for a reply soon.

as you brushed your teeth, the silence felt heavy. you tried to shake off the unease that settled in your stomach, telling yourself that he was probably just sleeping in.

after all, jessica's party had likely run late into the night. you rinsed your mouth and stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to convince yourself that everything was fine.

you got ready for the day, putting on your clothes and fixing your hair. every few minutes, your eyes darted to your phone, hoping to see a notification that would bring some reassurance.

the anticipation was killing you, making the simple act of getting dressed feel like an eternity.

heading downstairs, you were met with an unexpected and unsettling sight. your parents were sitting at the kitchen table, hand in hand, tissues scattered around them.

your mom's eyes were red and swollen from crying, and your dad looked completely drained, his face devoid of any emotion. the scene was so out of the ordinary that it stopped you in your tracks.

confusion and concern washed over you as you approached them cautiously. "mom? dad? what's wrong?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of fear and curiosity. "did something happen?"

"sit down, sweetheart," your mom said, her voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

you did as she asked, your heart beginning to pound in your chest like a drum. "what's wrong? what happened?" you asked again, the restlessness and anxiety building up inside you.

the silence that followed was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the room thickening with each passing second.

as your leg began to bounce up and down, a palpable sense of anxiety filled the room. your dad took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a look of profound sadness. “y/n, jeff he—”

your heart stopped, and you sat up straighter, tension gripping you. “he what, dad?” you said, the words coming out harsher than you intended.

“jeff was in a car accident last night.”

you froze, a whirlwind of confusion and hurt sweeping over you. “i-is he okay? what hospital is he in? we have to go see him!” you exclaimed, desperation lacing your voice.

a tear rolled down your mom’s cheek as she struggled to maintain her composure. “honey…” she began, but her voice broke, unable to continue.

you looked at her, hoping she wasn’t about to confirm your worst fears. “mom, what’s wrong?” you pleaded, your voice rising with panic. “you’re scaring me. Is he okay?!”

your mom grabbed your hand, her grip trembling. “sweetie, he—” she began, but her voice faltered. your dad’s voice was barely a whisper as he said, “he didn’t make it. he died in the accident.”

the words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt as if the air had been knocked from your lungs. In that moment, it was as if you had left your body; your physical form was present, but you were watching yourself from outside of it.

“you’re lying,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “like—it’s some fucked up prank, right?”

your mom’s eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled softly, trying to steady herself. You looked at them, taking in their reactions—the sorrow etched on your dad’s face and the tears streaming down your mom’s cheeks. “no, no,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“please, this can’t be true,” you continued, your voice rising in desperation. “there must be some mistake. jeff can’t be gone. I saw him just last night, he was just-“ you inhale sharply. “this isn’t real. It can’t be real.”

your dad placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his grip firm yet tender. “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish it were different, but it’s true,” he said, his voice breaking.

suddenly, you felt a tightness in your chest, your breathing becoming rapid and shallow.

panic surged through you, and you felt as if the walls were closing in. “I can’t breathe,” you gasped, clutching at your chest, you looked at your mom panicked. “mom i- i can’t breathe.”

your mom immediately moved to your side, grabbing your forearm. “y/n, try to breathe with me,” she said, her voice calm but urgent. “Inhale slowly through your nose, and exhale through your mouth. just focus on my voice.”

your dad knelt beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “we’re right here with you. you’re safe. just keep breathing,” he encouraged, his hand gently rubbing your back.

you tried to follow their instructions, focusing on the rhythm of your mom’s breathing. slowly, the panic began to subside, and your breathing started to even out.

you leaned into your mom’s embrace, feeling the warmth and comfort of her presence.

as the tightness in your chest eased, a new wave of emotion crashed over you. the reality of jeff’s death hit you with full force. you started sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking with each breathless cry. your mom held you tighter, her own tears mingling with yours.

“we’re going to get through this together. you’re going to get through this,” your mom whispered. “we’ll find a way to keep going, for jeff.”

as you clung to your mom, the reality of the situation slowly began to sink in. jeff was gone.

and your life would never be the same.

end of flashback.

tears stream down your face, and you struggle to continue. the grief is overwhelming, and you can barely speak. "that was the last time I saw him. the last time I felt his touch, the last time I heard his voice.” your voice breaks and your hands tremble, the weight of your words pressing down on you.

“and I know everyone is mad at him. they think he was stupid, that he did this to himself. but I can’t—” you shake your head, your eyes filled with tears that refuse to stop flowing. “I can’t let everyone think that—in the time that I was able to know jeff, he never once drove under the influence, no matter the situation. he was always responsible, always careful. and if you knew him, you’d know that—"

you let out a soft sob, your heart aching with the weight of loss.

your voice breaks again as you try to continue, and sobs overcome you, shaking your entire body as you try desperately to stop them.

but you can’t stop them; they just keep coming, wave after relentless wave. you cover your mouth, looking up at clay, who is sitting in the front row.

your gaze falls on clay, your eyes silently plead for help. he meets your gaze, and in that moment, he understands completely. with a nod, he slowly stands up and walks to the stand, gently taking the paper from your trembling hands.

you let out a soft sob, your heart aching with the loss that feels too great to bear. clay’s voice is steady, but you can see the pain in his eyes as he continues. "jeff was a light in all of our lives. his kindness, his humor, his support – these are just few of the many things that jeff was that i will try to carry with me."

clay's voice falters for a moment, but he presses on. "It was an honor to be loved by him, and an even bigger honor that he allowed me to love him. jeff showed me what true love is – a love that is patient, kind, and selfless. he made me a better person, and for that, I will be forever grateful."

you eyes silently plead for help. he meets your gaze, and in that moment, he understands completely. with a nod, he slowly stands up and walks to the stand, gently taking the paper from your trembling hands.

a tear falls down, making its path down clay's face as he continues, his voice trembling. "jeff's love was a gift and one that I will cherish for the rest of my life. and to him, the love of my life, I will never forget you. and I’ll be forever awaiting the day till we meet again."

as clay finishes, his eyes meet yours, and you clasp your hands together, placing them over your mouth as you look at him through a veil of tears.

the room seems to blur around you, the only clear thing being the connection between you and clay, a shared understanding of the loss you both feel.

clay opens his arms, a gesture filled with compassion and solace, and you find yourself gradually moving towards him. each step feels heavy, as if the weight of your grief is trying to hold you back, but the need for comfort propels you forward.

distance between you closes slowly, your heart pounding in your chest, and when you finally reach him, you collapse into his embrace.

and after a moment, he gently guides you outside, both of you desperately needing a breath of fresh air. the warm air hits your face as you walk together in silence. “you know, you helped jeff a lot.” you started inhaling, “he had lots of friends sure but the only one who truly had his best interest at heart.. was you.”

“im sure jeff didn’t consider me a friend.” clay deflected looking at the ground as you walked.

you touched his shoulder gently as you stopped making him stop as well. “clay. jeff considered you his closest friend.” you told him. clay looked at you his gaze unrecognizable but then you saw the tears slowly build as he nodded and looked at the ground.

you look around almost finding it ironic how you guys ended up at the baseball field, where you had been countless times before with jeff. your eyes fell on the dugout. “give me one second I need to do something.” you told clay, he said a quick okay before you jogged lightly over to it.

as you approach the entrance of the dugout, your eyes are frantically searching.

flashback.

jeff had his hands covering your eyes, leadimg you forward gently.

it was your 3 month anniversary, you had told him nothing big needed to happen but jeff insisted to at least take you out. "where are we going?" you asked, it had felt you two had been walking forever.

“no you will.” he assured giggling softly.

"I doubt it," you said jokingly. after a few more steps, he finally uncovered your eyes. you blinked, adjusting to the dim light, and found yourself staring at the baseball field, the grass slightly damp and the air filled with a faint earthy scent.

"wait, why are we here?" you asked now curious, despite the initial confusion.

jeff just grinned, his eyes sparkling. he gently pulled you towards the fence. "you'll see," he whispered, his voice filled with excitement.

he helped you the fence first, his hands firm and reassuring, then climbed over himself with ease.

he led you straight to the dugout, your footsteps barely making a sound on the soft grass. the field was eerily quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of crickets.

once you reached the dugout, you looked around, puzzled. "what are we doing, jeff?" you laughed, the confusion evident in your voice. jeff pulled out a small pocket knife, the metal glinting faintly in the dim light. "I know you said you didn’t want to do much, but I just wanted to leave something behind," he said, his eyes mischievous and full of intent.

carefully, you watched as he began to carve your initials into the wooden post, the sound of the blade scraping the wood the only thing heard between you two. “I know you said you didn’t want to do anything crazy. but I still wanted to do something that would be here forever.”

“jeff, you’re crazy," you said softly, your voice tinged with both amusement and disbelief.

you glanced around the quiet field, your eyes scanning the shadows and hoping that nobody was around, and that the two of you wouldn’t get in trouble.

when he finally finished carving, you both took a step back to admire his handiwork:

j + y/i

etched into the wooden post with careful precision. a seemingly perfect heart drawn around it.

jeff turned to you with a satisfied grin stretching across his face. "there, now we’ve left our mark," he said, his voice brimming with a hint of mischief.

you smiled back at him, feeling a whirlwind of emotions—"I guess we have," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might ruin the moment.

as you both started walking back, jeff playfully nudged your shoulder. "bet you can't catch me!" he shouted, taking off in a light sprint.

laughing, you begun to chase after him, "oh, you're on!" you called out, picking up speed. The cool air filled with your laughter, and the thrill of the chase made your heart race.

jeff slowed down just enough for you to catch up, and as you reached him, you playfully tackled him to the ground. both of you tumbled into the grass, breathless and giggling. "I got you." you declared softly.

he grinned, lying on his back and looking up at the stars. "okay, okay, you win this time y/l/n," he admitted, still laughing. you both lay there for a moment, catching your breath and enjoying the peacefulness.

you smile catching your breath beside him, feeling the cool grass beneath you.

he turned his head to look at you, his eyes soft and full of something you couldn't quite place. "what?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Is there something on my face?"

Instead of answering, jeff leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving yours. before you could react, his lips met yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. the world seemed to stand still for a moment, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves around you.

as the kiss ended, you both lingered close, your foreheads almost touching. jeff's eyes searched yours, a tender smile playing on his lips. the moonlight cast a soft glow, making the moment feel almost magical.

you reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from his face, your fingers grazing his cheek. "I didn't expect that," you whispered, still feeling the warmth of his kiss.

jeff chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I didn't either, but it felt right," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

for a while, you both just lay there, admiring each other. the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect moment.

eventually, you helped each other up and continued your walk, occasionally bumping into each other and joking around.

end of flashback.

the sight of those initials brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, and you start crying again, the sobs coming from deep within you.

yet, there's something about seeing the carved letters that brings a you a sense of solace.

no matter how much time had passed, no matter how you felt, there'd always be a reminder that what you and jeff shared was real. jeff was real. your love was real.

you run your fingers over the carving, feeling the rough edges of the letters. just then, clay comes over, it’s quiet between the both of you for a moment.

you sniffle wiping your tears, as you inhaled shakily, you look at him and can tell the concern in his eyes. "are you okay?" he asks softly.

you look at the initials one last time and then back at him. "I will be," you reply, your voice trembling slightly.

clay gives you a tight-lipped smile, understanding in his eyes. without another word, he takes your hand, and the two of you walk back together.

as you walk, you start thinking about how you'll learn to be okay. the pain is still there, and you know it’ll be there for a good while but you know that with time, you'll find a way to live with it.

you'll learn to carry the memories and the love you shared with jeff, finding strength in the fact that those moments will never be forgotten.

[nhstadler]

3 9 7  P A G E S

Hey everyone! I realised it's been forever since I posted anything and since I'm not quite finished with the chapter, I thought I'd at least post a story snippet to let you know that I haven't fogotten about you and about HNTBAW. It's just been a little much lately and I've been struggling with writer's block (as always).

But anyway, this is a random scene from the post Hogwarts series (which I might title A Catalogue of Us). It's kind of a flashback memory sort of thing and maybe it's a little confusing and sad, but maybe some of you enjoy it. I hope you had wonderful holidays / Christmas if you celebrate it and I promise I'm still writing.

Let me know what you think if you feel like it... hearing from you guys always helps my motivation, honestly :)

When James fell, the world stood still. I stood still. 

Sometimes I still dream about it. His muddled form falling through the sky, the burst of levitation spells in the pouring rain, like perverse fireworks, missing him again and again and again. There was nothing anyone could have done and yet… 

And yet.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to banish the scraps of the nightmare that still cling to my mind as I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The air is crisp, laced with salt and the subtle sweetness of the heather that grows along the cliffside, trembling in the breeze. I’ve been staring at the horizon for almost an hour, watching the darkness fade into that bluish glow that only exists in these few minutes before sunrise, when the world is in-between. Like the sky holds its breath for just a moment.

Like I held my breath when I was an ocean away, unpacking my old life into my new flat, barely paying attention to Ludo Bagman’s tinny commentary in the background. I didn’t even know why I had turned on the match in the first place. I should have stayed away, taken advantage of the physical distance, but there was comfort in the familiarity of it. In hearing his name chanted by thousands of voices. I missed him and I hated him a little for it. And then I heard the screams. 

I thought I had lost him before, but this was so much worse.

***

The room is bright, made of sun-drenched walls and filled with flowers and too many people. But I barely notice. James isn’t moving. There is a tangle of tubes, pumping healing potion from the IV bags into his system, mending his broken bones and his cuts and gashes as much as it can. But even magic can only do so much. 

Ginny sees me first. I’m lingering in the doorway like an intruder, not sure if I have a right to be here. I couldn’t not come. I don’t know what to say, though. My throat closes off when our gaze meets over the hospital bed. She’s clutching James’s hand in both of hers like she’s holding on for dear life, her eyes brimming with tears, and I’m crying too, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from sobbing.

“Seth!” Lily calls out, making both Harry and Al look up, but I still don’t know if I’m welcome. Not until Ginny lets go of her son and extends her hand towards me, the faintest of smiles curving her mouth as she summons me to his bedside.

I want to touch him, to feel that he is still here, warm and real and alive, but I don’t dare. There are too many IV lines and bandages and I’m afraid I might hurt him. “How - how is he?”

It’s a useless question, I know it, but there’s still the naive hope that the answer might have changed. That he’ll open his eyes and give me that infuriating half-smile, calling me Woodley and telling me that everything will be alright.

“I’m sorry,” someone says behind me and I turn around to look at the healer that has come into the room. “Only family is allowed in here.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” 

I make to get up, wiping away the tears with shaky fingers, but Ginny’s hand circles my wrist, her bloodshot gaze firmly on the woman in the lime green coat. “She is.”

***

I wanted to buy him some magazines, but half of the stock in the small St. Mungo’s kiosk is about brooms and Quidditch and the other half are gaudy newspapers that still seem to be in a competition over who can print the most disturbing pictures of James plummeting through the air. I was ready to give up and settle on the Kneazle Lover’s Digest when I saw the flashy book pyramid by the checkout. 

“I got you something.” I’m barely in the room when I hold up the shiny hardback with the gaudy cover and James raises an eyebrow at the shirtless guy that takes up most of the front.

“Holy Morgan, what is that, Woodley?” He lets his head fall to the side, smiling at me, even though he is too weak to move. Bruises and scratches still paint brutal patterns across his skin, covering his face and neck, his shoulders, his ribs, but they’re healing. 

Unlike his legs. 

“They had it in the hospital bookshop!” I can barely contain my excitement as I sit down in the chair next to his bed, thumbing through the pages, because this feels like a sign. A very dumb sign, but a sign nonetheless, and I’ll take anything I can get. “No way!” I press the open page against my mouth, my eyebrows arching at James over the edge of the book.

“What?” He’s frowning, amusement still tugging on the corners of his mouth. 

“It’s set in the 1800s.” 

He groans, though the grin on his face definitely dampens the effort. Rain is lashing against the windows, drowning out the steady drip of the IVs and, for a moment, it feels like it used to. Like Sunday mornings at his and Freddie’s flat, when he would refuse to get up and pull me back into bed with him.

“I’m so excited.”

“I bet.” He’s laughing, properly now, and my heart flutters behind my chest. It should know better. Especially because I saw her name flash across his phone screen last night before I left. “How long is that damn thing?”

I flip to the very back of the book, catching a few of the final words even though I try to not read them. “397 pages.”

***

“How many pages?”

He used to ask how many chapters. Then it turned to pages. Because he knows it too - that we only exist like the words on paper, between the pages. Until we reach the last one. The last sentence. 

“191.”

When the story ends, so do we. But ours is a tragedy. Maybe it was always meant to be.

I come back every day. I sit next to his bed and read A Witch’s Guide to Rakes and Romance, blushing fiercely at the spicy scenes but reading it all. James covers Lily’s ears when she’s cuddled up next to him and she complains loudly while Al and Freddie laugh and Harry and Ginny exchange soft, tired smiles.

Sometimes, the room is crowded. Sometimes, it’s just us - James and me and the steady whirring of the machines - and I read to him until he falls asleep. I read to him until twilight creeps into the room and we have to turn on the neon hospital lights. 

I read to him until he can feel his legs again. 

Until the IV lines become less.

Until he can sit up by himself.

“How many?” He says and I don’t look at him.

“16.”

It’s the last chapter. And, though I know that it’s time to go, that this semi-real version of us has an expiration date, I dread every page I turn.

“What if you stayed?” James says, quietly, and I feel like I might choke. I can barely breathe.

What if I stayed?

“I - I can’t.” My fingers are clenching the book in my lap, digging into the cover for something to hold on to. This feels awful, like a second break-up, and I wish I could just fold myself into his arms. 

But I can’t and he doesn’t argue. Because he knows me too well.

His lips are pressed together as he nods, a tear sliding down the side of his face into his pillow and I’m crying too. When he reaches out, I take his hand and weave my fingers through his, careful to not dislodge the catheter in the back of his hand.

“Do you want to hear the ending now?” I ask, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and his gaze slides from my face to the book in my lap, to our intertwined fingers.

“No.” I feel his hold on me loosen, his hand slipping out of my grasp a little. “I don’t want to know how it ends.”

[aihoshiino]

I did some mathing in my brain about when is AI’s and the Twins birthdays since I’m trying to figure out with what we got in the prologue since Aka never gave anyone birthdays and the time line of seasons is a fuck here. but I’m thinking Ai just turned 16 around the same time she was discovered to be 20 weeks along(5 months) and it starts snowing when her death/20th birthday but the twins birth it also starts snowing with the reincarnation happens.Japan usually starts having snow around mid December til early April so I’m shooting that AI’s birthday is around December while the twins might be late march if im doing a ball park guess I know this is weird thing to bring up in a ask but if Akasaka doesn’t give us birthdays then the fans gonna have to do it with the context clues we get especially since she’s still 16 when the twins are like … 6 months. Idek I’m rambling and want to know of your take cause I love your takes

please undrstand i am saying this with nothing but love but this ask briefly sent me down a rabbithole of forbidden knowledge and insanity and i feel like a lovecraft protag who has seen too much. I THINK i have made sense of all this but.................... listen akasaka clearly didn't think about it the same way i'm doing here so really, i guess i'm the clown in this scenario. heehoo.

The most direct clue we get about when Ai's birthday falls is in Viewpoint B, during her conversation with Kyun. The flashback portion of the story is implied to take place in December (the framing device is set in December and Kyun's recent breakup happened 'right before Christmas') and Ai's upcoming fifteenth birthday is mentioned indirectly; she talks about being about to age out of the children's home she'd been staying in which would put her birthday either in December or January.

This is also supported by the fact that the the snowfall that occurs after her death is noted to be unseasonably early. Given that the series is set mostly in Tokyo which mostly gets its snow in January, December makes the most sense for her birth month. In addition, during the little happy memories montage at the end of the episode, we see the family celebrating Christmas in a space that has exclusively Christmas decorations — so Ai's birthday is not close enough to the 24th or 25th for those sorts of celebrations to overlap. With all that in mind, my best guess for Ai's birthday is late November/early December. I personally like to headcanon it as November 28th, as it matches the timeframe and is when the real life Strawberry Productions Fan Thankgiving event was held.

As for the twins birthday, my instinct was to try and guesstimate this based on the details of Ai's pregnancy. We're directly told by the text that it lasted the full 40 weeks (which is actually not as common for twins — Ruby and Aqua were a bit late!) and that a few months have passed by the time she returns to working as an idol; Aqua and Ruby are using walkers the day she returns from her hiatus and babies are not typically physically capable of using them until around six months old. Obviously the twins are a bit more mobile than a regular baby would be much earlier, but they do seem to be reasonably constrained by the physical limits of their bodies so I feel pretty comfortable saying around six months have passed by the time Ai comes off hiatus. This also makes sense in terms of Ai's health, since it takes about six months to fully recovery from childbirth.

20 weeks post hiatus pregnancy + six months postpartum recovery = ten to eleven months passed between Ai arriving at the hospital and returning from her hiatus. It's also worth noting that she may not actually still be 16 around this time? When Saitou talks about her age, he mentions her becoming a mother at 16 which is obviously the age she had the kids, but it does leave room for her to have had a birthday between getting pregnant and actually having them.

With that 20 week starting point in mind, though, we can use the remaining 20 weeks of her pregnancy to try and narrow things down a bit more.

Using the anime as reference, it seems to be around early/mid autumn when Ai arrives at the hospital. If you look at the greenery behind Gorou when he's up on the roof, you can see there's patches where leaves are starting to show their autumn colours.

Since the hospital is all the way out in Takachiho, where autumn typically lasts between November and early December (if I'm remembering right?), my best guess would be that Ai arrived at the hospital probably late November or early December.

With that in mind, the remaining 20 weeks of her pregnancy playing out in full, that means the twins' birthday must be in mid to late April. This is actually implicitly confirmed to be the case in the series itself: while Ruby's age (and therefore Aqua's by extension) is given as 14 at the start of volume 2, they are already sixteen by the time LoveNow starts airing, which happens not long after they start high school - and the Japanese school year starts in April.

I'm choosing to headcanon them on the earlier side of April, just because that places them smack dab in the middle of cherry blossom season for Tokyo, which both makes them spring babies in contrast to Ai and ties nicely into how cherry blossoms represent rebirth and new beginnings.

anyway watch me post this ask and then next chapter confirms the twins were born or october 5th or some shit.............

[writing-whump]

Bleeding silver

This is a Christmas present for my lovely friend and RP partner @clickerflight. Great writer and artist, your work lights up my day.💙 Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Flashback fic, when Isaiah was 17, an executioner in his family pack. Insight into his secrets about his father, brothers and the deal with Reuben. Angst, captivity, torture, mentions of war, mentions of death, mentions of abuse.

Father’s office was big, dark with lots of massive wood a fireplace and two smaller rooms for waiting and parallel meetings, but very few wolves knew about its greatest advantage - that it had a stairway leading to another office downstairs.

The basement office had no windows. It was that far in the ground and the walls were of thick cement. No sounds came out of there. 

Isaiah made sure no one was at the meeting room, before he went down, closing the secret door behind him. 

Reuben was in the same position as Isaiah saw him in the morning. Hands in silver chains leading back to the wall behind him. He could  sit upright, but he could not move up from there. Silver cuffs on his feet served no other purpose than to cause more burning pain. He was bleeding where silver touched him, the skin rough and blistered. 

“I brought you food,” Isaiah said, putting the plate next to his limp feet before stepping away to lean against the cluttered table behind him.

Reuben tilted his head slowly, eyes glassy and feverish as they focused on him. His brown curls were greasy from sweat and matted with old blood and he was shivering without his shadow. He still managed a sarcastic: “How very kind of you.” 

It was a bowl of soup. Isaiah figured Reuben’s last bouts of sickness could be traced back to the ongoing strain from the silver burns and that maybe something easier on the stomach could help. He could not simply give him whatever they had at dinner so he made the plainest chichen broth he could. 

“It’s such a shame,” Reuben rasped, leaning his head back, “you go through all that trouble to keep me alive, but I’ll have to say no.”

“I don’t care if you are alive,” Isaiah said on reflex. 

“Yes, you do. You know what will happen, when my dad finds out about this, right? Can you Wolfsons afford another war? I hear you are preparing for one right now.”

“You couldn’t have heard that,” Isaiah said, folding his hands on his chest. No way someone would reveal such sensitive information…

“Your daddy dearest sounded pretty sure,” Reuben said, a small smirk playing on his chapped lips at Isaiah’s discomfort. “He talks a lot like I won’t survive to tell the tale. I guess he’s right.”

Isaiah’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. His shadow rose angrily though, slashing down on the ground. He didn’t like to be left out of decisions of that magnitude. Neither did he agree with Reuben getting killed. The guy was 17, the same as Isaiah and the oldest son of the Jäger pack’s leader. It made no sense to kill him. Isaiah knew he could have easily been the one on the floor in his father’s office. 

“You should really decide already,” Reuben rasped. “You are in conflict, that’s clear as day. You bring me food, you come watch me when you father all but forgets, you worry about my survival although you shouldn’t. You want to release me, but you also want to do what daddy says. You don’t understand the logic behind his plan to torture me. If he killed me, it would be a quicker way to start a war. And your father obviously wants to start one.”

“That’s not true,” Isaiah said sharply. “Father only does what’s best for the pack.”

“So why did he kidnap me? Why this whole ordeal?” Reuben lifted himself up, hands automatically tugging before he winced at the movement and sagged back again.

“There is surely an explanation I’m still not worthy or smart enough to understand.”

“Ha! You still believe that? There is no way your father does things for the greater good of anyone but his bloodthirsty shadow. I told you. This is not how a leader acts.” Reuben coughed then, his whole torse shaking with the cough until it blew into a whole coughing fit, wracking his frame.

“I’m going to escape from here,” Reuben continued, voice breathy and ragged. “One way or another.” He looked at the bowl of soup in disgust, head lolling to the other side.

Isaiah snorted. “How? By starving yourself? That’s the big plan?”

“Why not? I can’t keep doing this forever.” He squeezed his eyes shut, sweat running down the side of his face although he was shivering. “I want out.”  

Isaiah was silent for a long time, shaken by the sheer despair in Reuben’s otherwise talkative arrogant voice. It’s been two weeks. He was running thin, constantly in pain from the silver, the beatings and rolled down shadow that came in irregular intervals not helping.

“It’s just because you are not used to the silver,” he said quietly. 

Reuben’s eyes closed in exhaustion. “No one is supposed to be used to silver. It freaking hurts. It’s poison to us.”

“See? That’s why father training me with silver is such a good move. Silver with shadow, without the shadow, seeing how quickly you recover. Look at this.” Isaiah crouched down and rolled down the right sleeve on his coat to show the ugly red welts on his arm. 

Reuben opened his eyes to slits to look, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Silver knife with a rolled down shadow. But my shadow is already back up. I have grown stronger since he did it to me last time. Every time I get used to the pain more. I know what to expect. And I can call my shadow to come back to me sooner instead of being paralyzed by the pain.”

“Why do you sound so bloody happy?!” Reuben said, face contorting into an angry grimace. “That’s not normal, Isaiah! That’s not something a father does to his son, or a wolf does to his pup. That’s not something a parent’s shadow is supposed to be capable of doing to its child!” 

Isaiah recoiled, covering the slashes with his good hand. “You don’t understand. He doesn’t like to do it. It’s a necessary sacrifice for him, but he does it for my sake.”

“For your sake!” Reuben exclaimed, lifting himself up in the chains again only to break into another coughing fit. Isaiah felt the unexplainable impulse to steady him, to touch him. 

“That’s such nonsense, Isaiah. This is not part of the training of a successor. Or an executioner. It’s just plain sadistic torture.”

Isaiah bowed his head, staring at the carpet. It was dusty, covered with patches of dried blood.  

“And you know it. Deep down you know it. Why else would you prevent your father from training your younger brother?” 

Isaiah flinched at that, looking back at Reuben. “One executioner is enough. This kind of training is for me. I’m the strongest in the pack. It’s a burden and a blessing. And mainly, it’s my duty.” For the greater good. For the good of the pack. They need someone like me, who can bear the pain, inflict the pain, understand it and protect them from it. 

“If you truly believed this was a strength, you would have trained your brother yourself. Instead, you made a deal. Your father told me. Gloated to me, really. That you think you can do everything on your own, so much your brother won’t be needed for the job at all. That you made a deal that you would not protest any mission if Hector were excluded from the training. And that Hector himself hates you for it. Stupid bastard, not knowing what he is missing.”

Isaiah’s eyes widened. He had no idea father told Reuben such intimate family affairs. 

“You won’t protect him forever. He complied to motivate you, but he is sure your qualms will disappear. The more you do it, the more your shadow tastes the blood, the more it will crave it. Until you become like him. And then he will train Hector too. Make him into another you. And you will enjoy it, just like your father enjoys it right now.” 

Isaiah stood up abruptly. His heart was beating fast in his chest, his shadow swelling beside him, reacting to his fear, to his pain. It wanted to claw into Reuben for saying that, it wanted to tear him to shreds, taste his blood, bite deep into him just like father would into Isaiah, to calm down, to feel in control…

Reuben smiled, blood in the corner of his lips, eyes glittering with fever and irony. “See? You are on your best way to get there. To the shadow madness.”

Isaiah stepped closer to Reuben, towering over him. He was so weak and pitiful. Isaiah could break his ribs with one kick, smash his teeth together to make him shut up, he could strangle him with his shadow…

Reuben said nothing else, staring invitingly in the way of a wolf making a challenge. Isaiah realized then Reuben was truly serious.

He wanted to die. And he wanted to provoke Isaiah into doing it. 

Isaiah walked away. 

After he closed and locked the basement office door, he all but ran up the stairs, into the office, through the side exit into the courtyard.

Isaiah braced his hands against his thighs, gulping in the taste of fresh, cold air. He needed to clear his head. He needed his shadow back under control. 

**

Isaiah sat in the smaller of the adjoined offices, doing paperwork, when Marek walked in. 

Although Isaiah was younger, Marek waited patiently until Isaiah acknowledged his presence. That’s how it was these days. Marek was a Wolkenstein, he had a powerful shadow and great skill. But no wolf could measure up to Isaiah’s shadow or his control or his skill with it. None of the older wolves, not even those leading their own fractions, their own little allied groups. Not even Isaiah’s uncle. No one but father could do it.

Isaiah lifted his gaze. His shadow was up, covering the ground around the table and climbing the walls. He liked to keep it in the open when he didn’t want to be disturbed. He felt safer with it.

Marek bowed his head, eyes glued to the ground, head tipping to the side to show his throat. It was more of a symbolic gesture, but an important one, showing his submission and acceptance of Isaiah’s power over him. 

Isaiah’s shadow wiggled in satisfaction, sizzling like water dripping on burning coals. 

“You may speak,” Isaiah said, voice carefully neutral and devoid of emotion. 

“The leader said you are in charge of picking wolves for the battle,” Marek said, lifting his gaze tentatively, though looking somewhere over Isaiah’s shoulder. “With the Specter pack. They send us their challenge already, right? You have the date?”

“The date and place have been decided,” Isaiah allowed. He didn’t like where this was going. He had been put in charge of picking the pack members for the battle and he decided not to pick anyone. He would go there alone or with father at most and handle it.

“Then…who is coming?”

Isaiah gave him a measured stare. It usually scared wolves enough not to ask questions and leave him alone. Especially with his shadow up like that. 

Marek gulped a little under the pressure, but continued: “You mean…no one? Do you seriously want to go alone?”

“That is my decision to make,” Isaiah said coldly. His shadow hissed like a snake, not liking the disagreement in Marek’s voice. 

“Of course, it’s your decision,” Marek said quickly, shoulders hunching. “But Isaiah, come on. Wars are about numbers. Specters are coming after us with at least 10 of their strongest members. We should do the same. We have manpower to choose from, wolves eager for battle and we are strong, Isaiah. If you said a word…”

Isaiah said nothing, just glaring.

Marek looked up before quickly bowing his gaze again. “Isaiah, please. If you don’t want to pick, I’ll ask. Only volunteers, what do you think?”

They both knew there would be plenty of those. Isaiah disliked it. This was a great opportunity to let go of some anger and accumulated aggression, but wolves would always be eager to fight. It wasn’t civilized and it brought nothing good to fight between packs. Isaiah wanted to do it alone, so no one else would bear the risk. 

“There is no point in having a pack, if you don’t let it fight for you when it counts,” Marek said, voice low and soothing. 

Isaiah didn’t answer, but he let his eyes go to the side, conceding the point.

Marek straightened up at that, voice relieved. “Thank you. Nothing bad will happen, Isaiah. Don’t worry.”

Isaiah narrowed his eyes. Suggesting he was worried was not acceptable, even if Marek had been his friend and had seen him train long before he became the executioner. 

Marek winced, backing away. “I’ll be going then.”

But executioners didn’t have friends. Marek understood that, yet still felt like he needed to look out for him. Isaiah didn’t manage to scare him away as well as he intended. 

Maybe it was the Wolkenstein ability to tell lies and truth. And Marek was well-tuned to Isaiah’s masks, somehow able to read between the neutral expressions, threatening looks and cold tones. 

Isaiah didn’t like it. It was as if Marek could see through his defenses, all the way to the little boy he used to be, when they first became friends with each other. 

Marek went to the door, only turning at the last second, eyes briefly meeting his. “It’s okay, Zaya.”

I know you are in there somewhere. You won’t fool me. I know this is a kindness from you. It’s okay. You don’t have to do it alone. 

Isaiah said nothing as Marek disappeared out the door, staring at the spot for a long time. 

***

Isaiah walked briskly through the halls, shadow slashing behind him. Wolves and humans and witches quickly cleared the way at his approach.

He walked as quickly as he could without outright running.

“It was a necessary loss,” his father said. Isaiah could still see his ruthlessly calm green eyes staring holes into his head. “People die in wars, it is to be expected. It was an acceptable sacrifice. We only lost two people, Isaiah. This is a victory to be celebrated.”

Isaiah fumed. He said nothing, only getting out the door, shadow lashing. He needed to get home, he needed to get out of the public eye. Away from celebrating wolves, from victory yells and champagne. 

The victory wasn’t worth Marek’s life. 

Isaiah was coming to think no victory could have been worthy of it. 

It was an unnecessary war. For territory, for not forgiving a slight offense. It was entirely father’s fault. And it was Isaiah’s, because he let Marek talk him into taking more wolves.

Isaiah let Marek come. To die.

Isaiah burst into the apartment he shared with his brothers, shadow trailing behind him, long and angry.

Hector and Arnie were both in the living room, eating. They had the meet and mashed potatoes Isaiah cooked in the morning. He always cooked for them, finding it the most and if not only enjoyable time of his day. Doing something with his hands that created instead of destroyed, something enjoyable that could be shared.

Hector stood up from the table. “Ah, there he is. Father didn’t even want me at the celebration, because I wasn’t part of the war in any way. You all happy about that, huh? Keeping him and all the good techniques to yourself, you selfish prick.”

Isaiah ignored him, getting out of his coat and removing his shoes. 

“You can’t keep me out of every interesting fight! I know this is your fault, that you keep me away from father on purpose - but I’ll get strong anyway. Stronger than you and then you’ll regret-”

Isaiah turned. There was blood on his suit, Marek’s blood, as he kneeled beside him as he bled out from a silver bullet. His shadow rose around him, spilling over the living room, swelling with anger.

Hector stopped abruptly, taking an involuntary step back. 

Arnie hunched into himself at the table. He was just 11 years old, used to his brothers, their shadows and their fighting. To the good kind of fighting, the playful one. When they weren’t trying to hurt each other.

Nowadays Hector tried to hurt Isaiah whenever he saw him. Lashing out in anger, not understanding what was wrong, why he was being left out. He was 15 years old, a very sensitive age for a shadow wolf. They needed guidance and direction, a clear example and goals to follow, so they could discipline their shadows into submission. Shadows that reacted to every hormonal emotion with a vengeance and aggression. 

This was a sensitive age. And Isaiah nor father could be there for him. Isaiah made sure of that. 

“Shut up,” Isaiah said, fighting the urge to just roll his little brother's shadow down and take the peace and quiet he craved. “Shut up for once. No one is interested in your whining.” 

Hector went pale, bowing his head in submission and fear.

Isaiah’s shadow wiggled in excitement at the gesture. Isaiah felt sick.

Arnie stood up then, a little hesitant before stepping closer to Isaiah. His green eyes were wide in his childish face, blond hair messy and shining under the kitchen lamp.

“Was it bad? Are you hurt?” Arnie said quietly, reaching for his arm. He knew he had to be careful with wolves, although he was never afraid of the two of them. At least that was ingrained into Isaiah and Hector both by their mother, when she was still alive. Isaiah never worried about Hector doing anything to Arnie and until now the trust turned justified.

Isaiah fought every instinct in his body not to recoil or shove him off, when Arnie gently touched his forearm. All his muscles clenched inside him. Arnie was all softness, round and vulnerable and kind, looking at him with those trusting big eyes…

Isaiah tolerated the touch for a few seconds, revulsion and disgust swirling inside him. His shadow steadied though, pulling back and down.

The oldest wolf stepped away from the human boy and then hurried into the bathroom at the end of the hall. Fortunately, they had two bathrooms and this one Isaiah liked to reserve for himself. 

He locked the door behind him, then opened the faucet to full blast and let the shower run. His hands were shaking so badly that he barely managed to unbutton his shirt and strip down from his bloody clothes. 

That was all he managed before the tears came.

The grief and pain flooded him like a tsunami, crashing the air out of his lungs. He slid down the door, curling into himself, hoping the running water would disguise the sounds.

He held onto his composure during the battle. He held onto it when Marek got shot, and when his mother bled out next to him, trying to save her oldest son. There were still two kids she left behind. Marek’s little brother and sister. 

Isaiah’s insides shook and twisted. He buried his face into his knees, wailing quietly, while his shadow clawed at the bathroom tiles. But he wasn’t worried it would do anything anymore. This was a way to let out a strong emotions, and he would rather let it out through tears than through someone’s blood. 

At least this time around.

***

Isaiah went down the stairs. It was deep into the night, the sounds of celebration still loud. 

He went down the steps with newfound determination. The conflict in him was gone, his shadow calm at his side as he opened the door. He didn’t switch the light on.

Reuben was sleeping fitfully in the chains, but was quick to wake at the sound of his approach. The bowl of soup was untouched. 

Isaiah had no time to be hesitant. He went down to one knee beside him, taking out the keys and unlocking his cuffs.

Reuben’s eyes widened, but he pulled his bleeding hands away, pressing them against his chest. “What's going on?”

“We’ll wait till your shadow comes back and heals you. I’ll replace the chain with a steel one, so the silver doesn’t burn you. And when the time is right, I’ll help you escape,” Isaiah said, voice hard and clipped.

Reuben’s face lightened up. “Isaiah, this is the right choice. You won’t regret-”

“In exchange,” Isaiah interrupted harshly, “you won’t tell your father what happened to you or that the Wolfsons had anything to do with it. Tell him you were on a trip or spent the time passed out drunk. I don’t care. But there will be no other war, you understand?”

Reuben frowned, lowering his voice. “That bad today?”

Isaiah stood up, leaning back against the table like he did before. Reuben slid away from his usual place by the wall, as if wanting to exercise some of his new freedom, though he was weak and didn’t get further than a step.

“I won’t let another war happen. No one else has to get hurt in this. You know what my father is. You know the only ones suffering are you and me. And you said it yourself, it’s not my fault. We don’t have to make it a pack business.” 

“Am I just supposed to forgive you? Just like that? What about my suffering, huh?” 

Isaiah rubbed at his face tiredly. “Can’t you just be happy you won’t end up dead?” 

“What about the consequences? What about the silver scars, what about the pain to my shadow, Isaiah? What am I supposed to do if there turns out to be damage I can’t manage on my own? It wants revenge and-” 

“If we go to war, I’ll go and kill your father.”

Reuben froze, mouth open.

“I don’t want another war. But if you won’t help me, there will be one and more Wolfson wolves are going to die. Jäger wolves are going to die. But I’ll make sure to kill your father, so your pack is hit the most, losing its leader. So no other pack ever tries to fight us again. You want to go that road?” 

Reuben snarled at him. If he went to his father and started the war, he would not be strong enough to fight in it. And he couldn’t defeat Isaiah the first time anyway, though they were very closely matched. 

“Fine. I won’t tell anyone what happened was your and the Wolfson pack leader’s doing. But I can’t let your shadow mad father run free, Isaiah, you have to under-”

“Give me a year,” Isaiah said. “Give me one year and I’ll deal with him myself. Just don’t tell anyone.”

Reuben would always have the knowledge that could destroy his pack. Once he was free, the bargaining advantage would be in his hands. 

Reuben raised an eyebrow at him, features hard. “Fine. In exchange?”

Isaiah sighed. “Anything you want.” 

@bellysoupset

[hypengene]

・❥・when you 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑒

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: riki x gn!reader

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluffiest fluff of all fluffs; bestie -> lovers au

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: in which your childhood bestie riki starts ignoring you one morning..

𝘢/𝘯: helloo lovely readers!! first one that i am writing, PLEASE give me suggestions and correct anything wrong. having lots of fun writing this one hope you guys enjoy it!

listen to when you love someone by tone stith ft. her while reading pls

flashback 11/30

"morning niki!" you whispered as you entered class late, sitting softly next to riki.

...silence

you tried again "good morning nishimura riki." still no response. you turned your head, looking at him. admiring how his hair softly fell over his eyes, as his eyelashes curling slighty upwards. his sharp, slender nose lying perfectly in the middle of his fa--

woah you thought to yourself. nononono, stop. you shook the thought off, turning your head looking straight at the professor.

why are you ignoring me riki?

present day 12/24 at home

the nishimura family was over for christmas dinner. you guys sat all across the table, and unfortunately, niki right next to you. every since that day, he started ignoring you like you were nonexistent. you gave up. but as hard as you tried, your feelings for niki just never seemed to fade. plus, having him over for the night really isn't helping.

currently, niki and you were in your room. both laying on the bed scrolling through your phones. except for the faint music he was playing on the speakers, it was silence. no lights, no sound, just...silence.

you were getting bored as you guys have already laid here for 2 hours. you turned over, peeking at the clock. it was already 11:30pm.

"hey niki you wanna go wash up, its 11:30" he stood up with no words, heading to the bathroom. you sat on the bed, looking at his tall figure walking with his phone still in hand.

"y/n where's the towel?" niki asked from the bathroom. you walked over, pointing in the cabinet as he bent down and grabbed one. you looked at him, again. staring, staying still as ever. he turned his head and looked at you,

"i know im hot ok, but this staring thing over here is getting a little too intense miss y/n" he laughed. you stared straight into his eyes, but still keeping some distance.

"why were you ignoring for like, a month?"

he kept quiet, switching his gaze to the floor.

i know i ignored you

"riki answer me." he didn't say a word. instead, he walked out of the bathroom to your bed.

im tryna be patient, but i keep on pacin

you stomped in front of your bed. "riki, being ignored is not a good feeling. in fact, it's so bad. so so bad. when i call your name across the hallway, you see me. i know you see me. but why do you just turn your back and leave? when i text you, you just leave me hanging there. if you want our 15 year friendship to end, just tell me. im done with this. im done with being ignored." you said.

we've been runnin away from communication

things were starting to get blurry in front of you, as your eyes started to fill with water. you couldn't see what niki was doing, but suddenly, you felt a strong pair of arms pulling you towards that shadow.

"im sorry y/n." niki whispered in his low voice. as you heard his heart beats against his chest, feeling his hands caressing your hair.

baby let’s face it

"im so sorry y/n. i just wasnt used to this feeling that was overflowing me when i looked at you baby. it was, it was so weird…but i loved it? sometimes i would lay in bed, and all of a sudden you pop inside my brain. without knowing, i would start smiling." he giggled

its just conversation now

“i realized this was wrong, this was different. everytime i looked at you, i couldn’t stop. everytime i was over and you laid your head on my chest, i would tense up, feeling a sense of euphoria rushing over me.”

you lifted your head from his chest, wiping the tears away. seeing his face, his dark, watery orbs, staring straight into yours.

no more temptation, no more misbehavin'

it was just silence. but this time, it was a comfortable silence. two people, that blinded by their love for each other, staring at one another. feeling emotions that cannot be described.

you're pouring your heart to me

how could i let this be?

his dark orbs now slowly moved to your lips, as yours moved to his too. you guys started to lean in, slowly, fluttering your eyes closed.

just needed time to see where i wanna be

the lips met. his fit yours so well, as if they were made for each other. like two magnets, attracted. his soft, delicate, plump lips against yours were like a match made in heaven. they moved in sync, as his hands slowly travelled to your waist, another holding your neck. as your hands rested on his chest for support.

cause i kept it together

this moment. it felt like you've found that lost piece of yourself. this was it. his soft hair under your fingers, your soft hair under his. the puzzle has been complete.

and we're better together

he pulled away, as you opened your eyes. looking down towards the ground. you felt your cheeks warm up, as they were probably tinted with a shade of pink.

and with you it's immense, love

he then put his fingers on your chin, lifting it up until your eyes met his.

"baby, look at me."

only thinking bout what's next, love

you looked at him as he looked at you.

"i love you y/n"

"i love you riki"

forget the rest, love.

[alexandriaisburning]

033: Seabed

CANON FIRE is made possible by the generous contributions of readers like you. Support more writing like this on Patreon. Thank you!

A yuri mystery novel, Seabed has no choices or alternative routes to explore. You simply read it from front to back, like a conventional novel. And despite that, it remains constantly engaging, with a structure that feels more interactive than many of its contemporaries that lean more heavily on the genre’s adventure game aspects. There’s a real literary quality to Seabed, not only in its prose, but how it asks you to piece together the story. 

Told non-linearly, it builds up the relationship between Sachiko and Takako, with various vignettes from childhood to their adult lives together. We get to see them work together, travel the world, and deepen their affections, before finally reaching the revelation that here, in the present, Takako has disappeared and Sachiko has been hallucinating her presence. 

The how and why is left unclear. Whether it was a simple breakup or Takako going missing during a trip, it calls into question exactly what happened and when, and gives an uneasy tension to past interactions, with each flashback heavy with the idea that this might be when Takako disappears. Layering the mystery are the “Tips”, parallel stories accessed from the main menu, with everything from small character moments to disappearing rooms and unsettling hospital visits. You’re never given a sense of where these fit into the timeline, leaving them spinning in your mind as you try to find where it fits into the ongoing mystery. 

The final revelations ended up mixed for me, but the process of unraveling the story kept it satisfying regardless. The heart of the story is the various relationships between the different women, and the complex emotional stakes that define them. Gorgeous prose describes each scene, and when we arrive at the mansion, the main location the story finally centers on, there’s a tangible sense of place that made me feel as if I’d walked its grounds myself. 

Even as I eased into a certain intimacy with the mansion and its characters, the structure of the story kept the boundaries of its world uncertain and intangible. The warmth of conversation at a Christmas party, or in a bath room filled with colorful fruit toys gave way to intimidating mountain landscapes and tunnel paths filled with dreamlike terror. Seabad often lulls you into comfort, followed by a violent reminder of the story’s stakes and why its characters can’t afford to settle into a peaceful routine. 

It's a bittersweet story, washed in melancholy, but it never falls into the trap of becoming a gay tragedy. We get to see an entire lifetime between Sachiko and Takako, with the non-linear structure continuing to deliver tender moments between them long after Takako's mysterious disappearance. We see what their lives look like after their separation, how they deal with it, and the new connections they form. 

If there’s one indulgence, it’s the classic visual novel trope of lavish food descriptions and detours into the author’s pet subject matters. Thankfully these detours are as interesting as the main story itself, with architectural history lessons, travel blog stylings, and conversations on delicate pastries and the astounding size of American portions. None ever go on too long, and each one of them feels as if it has a purpose in the story. 

In contrast to the maturity of the prose, there’s an almost amateurish quality to the art. Portraits are all ever so slightly off, with the occasional odd anatomy and posing, and fabric has a tendency to be suctioned tightly between every character’s legs. Backgrounds have a sort of mixed media approach, with a scene receiving either fully rendered 3D artwork, complete with variations for atmosphere and time of day, filtered photographs, or some combination of either with illustrations layered on top. 

You can tell where the artist’s strengths lie, with the 3D backgrounds rendered with such care I wouldn’t be surprised to learn they had a day job at an architectural firm or something similar during development. The portraits can sometimes come off a bit goofy, but the sincerity behind them comes across, and there are some beautiful, intimate scenes that aren’t any less effective for it. An intense care has been put into the presentation, and alongside Seabed’s effective use of color and soundtrack, there’s rarely a moment that fails to hit, regardless of the resources or skills the team had at their disposal. 

As I read Seabed, I kept getting lost in the pull of its gravity. Seabed flows between the personal, psychological and even supernatural boundaries of mystery. It has the warmth of a friendly, lighthearted hangout that provides a reprieve from a life of emotional turmoil. As the stakes build, characters consider what it is they need to let go of, and what they desperately want to hang on as the waves of time erode their memories. Seabed is a mystery not about the cold hard facts of reality, but what the emotional consequences of each event are for its characters. 

When the story wrapped up, I found myself wishing for more time with the characters. I wanted to see their desires fulfilled, to get one more interaction between them, one more conversation I hoped would allow me to let go of them. Goodbyes often leave us carrying the words left unsaid, hoping that the few words we can get out can express those silent feelings. Seabed captures those feelings--those feelings of a lifetime spent with the one you care about, of goodbyes that never end, and yet are never long enough, and of the memories you’re left to cherish--or forget--when it’s all over. 

[phoebeyates-archive]

○ location: phoebe's apartment ○ date: monday 8th january 2024 (with flashbacks to 2002, 2008 and 2023) [tw: toxic parent-child relationships, manipulation, abandonment, money issues, implied mental health issues including dissociation]

Whatever was in the box was heavy, and it was a struggle for Phoebe to get it through the doors up the building, up the stairs to her floor, and through her front door. Not sure what else to do with it, she dumped it on the coffee table, heaving for breath that she wasn’t entirely sure was from the physical exertion or the unease of anxiety she felt since getting that phone call early this morning, tucked up beside Foster in his (admittedly, now quite comfortable) bed, having to sneak into his bathroom and figure out what was going on through hushed tones, leaving without saying goodbye so she didn’t have to wake him.

It had been a painful experience, from being ushered into the Director’s office whilst scrambling to put her phone on Do Not Disturb, watching Aslihan fight for her over the fact that of course Phoebe wouldn’t willingly order anything to the museum address. That whatever it was clearly wasn’t a security risk, and that they were just looking for an excuse to get her in trouble. Phoebe had studied the large package, a big square box in non-descript wrapping, giving away no indication if it was a late birthday or Christmas gift, or something else altogether. The return address sent a shiver down her spine as she recognized it from that drive to Boulder, awkwardly admitting it was from her mom, avoiding Aslihan’s thunderous look at the box, as the assistant awkwardly took it and promised the Director that this would never happen again.

Staring back at the box, Phoebe debated whether to open it or contact her mom, though she couldn’t find where the hell she put her phone in during the journey of hauling it up the stairs. In the end, she vied for neither, deciding that running a bath would clear her head, and melt away the sudden crawling feeling on her skin, trying to fight off the memories of the past.

December, 2002

“Oh my God! I love it!” Phoebe squealed as she ripped off the wrapping paper of the box her dad handed her, revealing the Barbie Rapunzel she had eyed at for months. Sat on the sofa, glass of eggnog clutched in her hand, Lisa snorted.

“Damn, he gets a promotion at the big fancy firm and can suddenly afford…one branded doll?” She asked with an eye roll.

Michael’s smile tightened, the previous light in his eyes of watching his daughter unwrap her Christmas gifts faded. “Lisa, can we not right now?” He kept his voice light, as if Phoebe were a dog who couldn’t understand words but rather tone instead, turning back to his daughter who was tracing the patterns of the box with her finger. “You know, sweetie, you can open her. She’s for playing after all.” 

Phoebe turned the box over, scratching at the tape securing the packaging together when Lisa cleared her throat. “Not until you open my gift, Pheebs.” And she nudged her head to the very big box in the corner. The box Phoebe wasn’t allowed to touch until the ‘right moment’. Almost greedily, Phoebe shuffled over to the box, ripping open the intricate wrapping. 

“Oh my god!” She yelled at the same time Michael exclaimed “Jesus, Lisa, really?!” as the PlayStation 2 logo was revealed, with the game SingStar and its microphones with it.

“What? I can’t spoil my daughter at Christmas?” She argued. At this, Michael stood up, grabbing his ex-wife by her arm, and dragging her  into the direction of the kitchen. 

“Is that what you called me up sobbing about when you lost your job earlier this month?” Michael had hissed, thinking Phoebe couldn’t hear, as her two parents launched into an argument in the other room, as if the thin walls of the house could cover up their hurtful words. Phoebe at that point decided she didn’t want to play with either of her gifts anymore, choosing to delicately place them to the side.

Within six months, she donated them. Her mom was pissed about the PlayStation, even though they both knew she only did it to upstage Michael after all.

October, 2008

“He didn’t show.” Phoebe hated to state the obvious, but she figured it was going to be the question that left her mom’s mouth as she joined her daughter on the creaky porch, watching the golden leaves softly drop from the trees and onto the floor. She had just turned thirteen, and had been dreading it for a number of reasons. The fact that the fair-weathered friends of her mom had been making sly remarks about her being a ‘woman’ in a way that made her skin crawl, down to the big party she was being strong-armed into throwing, knowing full well no one would come.

“What excuse did he use this time?” Lisa asked. Last year, when she had turned twelve, he texted her to say something happened at work and he’d call later. He never did. At Christmas, said he had a business trip and wouldn’t be back in time. They had seen him at the mall on Boxing Day, when Lisa was returning the gifts from her boyfriend of the time, but chose to pretend he didn’t exist either.

“He didn’t,” Phoebe replied truthfully. In all fairness, he didn’t actually get in touch to say he’d show up for his daughter’s thirteenth birthday, but Phoebe was under the assumption he would, at least. 

“I figured,” Lisa sighed, before going inside for a minute, returning with a small box. “I was going to give you this at your party, but well, I think you deserve it now.” 

Hesitantly, Phoebe took the lid of the box, letting out a small gasp at the shiny iPod Touch that looked up at her. “Oh my god…Mom, this is amazing!” 

“Micah helped me put some songs on it. And he said, anything you wanna add, he’ll help you too.” Lisa promised, smiling as she spoke of her newest boyfriend, reaching over and stroking her hair. “My best girl, thank you.”

Phoebe leaned into her touch. It would be a while before she learned the bigger the present meant that Lisa was trying to get something, or do something. Ruin Phoebe’s image of her father, break the news she lost another job, or failed another relationship. Try and seem like she was the best, put together parent ever.

But in that moment, the thirteen year old, who’s upcoming November would be overtaken with Taylor Swift and Twilight, both on her iPod before Micah bailed in December, just took her mom at face value. Because why wouldn’t she believe otherwise?

February, 2023

Phoebe stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall and arms crossed. Lisa stood at the top, confused frown on her face.

“There’s a suitcase with your name on the luggage tag in the living room.” Phoebe explained, slowly, like trying to describe something otherwise obvious to a toddler.

“Great deduction skills, Sherlock.” Lisa drawled, heading down, an ominous creak on every other step, as if the years of neglect and damage were threatening to collapse the rotted wood. 

“Where are you going?” She hated it, how small she felt asking the question. She was twenty-seven now, and she and her mom didn’t have to explain things to each other such as their whereabouts. But there was a sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach that she couldn’t ignore. Phoebe noticed the way Lisa thought she was slyly hiding the envelopes on the kitchen table, the big red letters of ‘FINAL NOTICE’ plain and clear to the naked eye. Her mom’s new boyfriend, Carl, had been extremely jumpy too. Like they were planning something Phoebe wasn’t allowed to know about.

And she was tired of being handled with kid gloves.

“I have something for you...” Lisa sing-songed, completely avoiding the question. Phoebe’s stomach twisted in on itself further, especially as she watched her go to the coat-rack, the turquoise gift bag making her gasp.

“No.” Phoebe declared as her mom handed her the Tiffany gift bag. “Mom, you can’t -,”

“Well, it’s from Carl, moreso. I just helped choose. The architect money you know. Go on, Pheebs, open it.” She urged.

She stood frozen in shock for a minute, thinking about whatever was in the box and how much it would cost. Money that they didn’t have. Clearly annoyed at her daughter’s slowness, Lisa snatched the bag back, pulling out a box in the same color as the bag and opening it. Phoebe could see her reflection in the large diamond earrings staring back at her.

“He just was so grateful you made him feel so welcome in our home,” Lisa continued, apparently uncaring about her daughter’s shell-shocked reaction, snapping the box shut and firmly placing it in Phoebe’s hand. “Especially since you’ll be solely responsible for it for the next few months.”

Now that got a reaction from the brunette. “Wait, what?”

“The trip.” Lisa stated, matter-of-factly, smiling like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Carl is taking me across Europe, babe. He wanted to take you, really, but what with your vacation hours and the fact you don’t own a passport and are scared of planes and all that -,”

Phoebe didn’t know what else to say, just nodding numbly. “And Carl, he’s paying for all of this?” It didn’t really sound like the man, who was more sleazy than charming with a questionable combover and thought tweed was fashionable. She remembered the first time she met him, out for dinner with him and Lisa, and he heavily hinted that Phoebe should be picking up the bill, as a gift to the lovebirds finding their happiness.

Her suspicions only rose when Lisa’s face fell for just a second, and all she wanted to do was shake her mother. How she got the money for the trip, she didn’t even want to know right now. But this was extremely irresponsible, even for her. “Look, my darling girl,” She stammered, cupping Phoebe’s face in her hand. “I think this will be good for me, I can explore my passions, and when I come home, can work on starting that business I always dreamed about! And you can quit working at the hotel and be my partner. This is just…experience. Plus, I’ve always wanted to go to Italy. You know how much I love pasta!” 

The rest of the day went by in a blur, with somehow Phoebe being coerced into driving Lisa and Carl to the airport. The earrings stayed in their beautiful blue box, until Phoebe had time to return them, finding out that they weren’t a gift from Carl at all, but from her mom’s credit card. 

If Lisa ever noticed the return, or how Phoebe never wore them in their sporadic video calls, she never commented on it. The younger woman doubted her mom even remembered the buttering up gift after all. Because that’s all it was, some sort of bribe, to stay pliant.

January 2024

She didn’t know how long she had been in the tub, but long enough that the water had turned cold, her body beginning to shiver as she slowly came back into it. Something had disrupted her from her trip down memory lane, itching at the back of her mind, when she heard it again. Her door buzzer. Erratic, furious,as if whoever was downstairs was looking for a fight. Phoebe quickly stumbled out of the bath, drying herself haphazardly as she found some sweats and a hoodie to throw on, to the accompaniment of the mechanical drawl of her buzzer.

Then, taking a deep breath, she slowly approached it and answered.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1157: Early Surprise Gifts (SSBU X River City Girls X Bayonetta)

7:45 p.m. at the New Donk City's Glorious Hotel Room......

Dark Pit: (Let's Out a Bit of a Heavily Sigh While Laying Down on his Bed)

Yoshi: (Sits Down on the Edge of his Bed) What got you so down today? Did Christmas Fanatic Duo got to you again?

Dark Pit: No, not yet surprisingly. Its Misako and Kyoko....I think I'm starting to miss them already.

Yoshi: That quickly, huh? You could always try and video chat them.

Dark Pit: Yeah, but....it won't feel like the same really. Plus, those chatting apps drains my tablet's battery more quicker than usual nowadays, so I'm not even gonna bother trying at this point.

Yoshi notices Misako and Kyoko sneaking inside their room, the latter happily waving at him and the former silently telling him to keep quiet before hiding both sides of their boyfriend's bed.

Yoshi: (Snickers a Teensy Bit) Yeah, that's a....('Clears Throat') Real travesty alright, I'll tell you what.

Dark Pit: ('Scoffs') Please. It's not that big of a deal. I could always text them on daily, maybe even make two snowmen of them whenever we do get snow around here.

?????: (Climbs Up on One Side of the Bed) Or we could just chill and cuddle for a while~

??????: (Climbs Up on the Other Side of the Bed Holding Up a Mistletoe in the Air) Maybe have a little Mistletoe action in between~

Dark Pit: Yeah, I guess that cou- (Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened) W-W-WAIT A MINUTE! (Turns to One Side) Misako!? (Turns to the Other Side) Kyoko!? You actually here right now!?

Misako: (Forms a Cheeky Grin on her Face) We're laying right next to you, aren't we?~

Kyoko: (Happily Hugs Her Boyfriend) And you're gonna be stuck with us for the rest of the month, so you better get used to it~ (Gives Pitto Five Kisses on the Cheek)

Dark Pit: (Hears Yoshi Chuckling Before Turning Back to Him) You knew they were here this whole time?

Yoshi: (Casually Shrugs) Only when they sneaked their way in here, which kinda makes me wonder how they made in the city in first place honestly.

Dark Pit: (Looks Back and Forth at his Girlfriends) Yeah how DID you two get here exactly?

?????: You can thank me for that.

Pitto and Yoshi turns to see the Fallen Angel, Rodin standing, laying his back on the side of the doorway, taking a smoke on his cigar.

Dark Pit: Uncle Rodin? You're the one who brought them here?

Rodin: Yep. (Designate the Cigar to Ashes into Thin Air Before Walking in the Room) These two ladies 0f yours are accompany me on this family vacation of yours. They happened to bumped into me after I left that long ass line behind.

Kyoko: (Smiles Brightly) He was so kind of us to take us with him through that cool looking portal of his!~

Yoshi: How did you girls managed to convinced him to go with him?

Misako: Oh we has our ways.

Flashback

Misako and Kyoko were already on their knees begging Rodin to take them with him outside of the airport. It wasn't until he uses his dark manipulation powers to make both their mouths disappear, shutting them up completely

Rodin: Now, I'mma bring back both your lips. And when do thar, I want y'all CALMLY give me one good reason why should I take ypu with me. Got it?

Misako amd Kyoko nodded in agreement as both their mouths reappear on their faces. They take their very deep breaths before screaming out......

Misako/Kyoko: WE MISS OUR BOYFRIEND HORRIBLY!!!~

End of Flashback

Dark Pit: (Chuckles Lightly) You guys couldn't even last a day without crying out for me, huh?

Misako: (Glares at her Boyfriend) Hey, at least we weren't sulking enough to think about building snow versions of us!

Dark Pit: Yeah, but I wasn't the one begging on my knees, now was iI?

Misako: BITCH, I-

Both Pitto and Misako's mouths suddenly disappears off of both of their faces as they turn to their culprit in front of them.

Rodin: 'Ey, I didn't come all the way here just to hear you two bitching at one another all dauly, so chill out with that for a second, alright?

The two thirds of the trio couple nodded in agreement as their mouths reappear in their faces.

Dark Pit: (Sighs Before Turning to Misako) Sorry for laughing, Misako.

Misako: ('Sigh') It's fine. Sorry too. (Smiles a Bit) It's sweet that you're thinking about us.

Dark Pit: (Smiles Back) Ditto. I missed you guys.

Misako: We missed you too, dummy~ (Gives Pitto a Peck on the Lips)

Kyoko: (Pouts at Two of her Romantic Partners) Heyyy!~ I want some of your kisses too!~

Misako: (Sighs Before Getting Herself Up From the Bed) Alright. Scooch over, both of you. We're making ourselves a Kyoko sandwich tonight.

Dark Pit: (Shrugs) Fine by me. (Scooches himself Over to Side of the Bed)

Kyoko: (Happily Squeals as She Scooches Over to the Middle)

Misako: (Lays Down on the Other Side of the Bed Before Her and Pitto Gives Their Girlfriend The Kisses She Deserves) There.

Dark Pit: Happy, 'hon?

Kyoko: (Giggles Softly While Hugging Both her Partners) Absolutely!~

Yoshi: With that overly cuteness aside....(Turns to Rodin) Who's gonna watch your bar now that your here? Uncle Enzo?

Rodin: ('Tch') Please. I don't trust that fool to handle his own liquor let alone look over the entirety of my hard working establishment. No, I let one of my demon summons, Astral, take over from there. (Shows the Kids Pictures of the Big Demon in Question, Showing Off It's Vicious Manner) 'Been a powerhouse of a player for as long as I can remember creating him.

Yoshi: (Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened at What Catches his Attention) Woahwoahwoahwoah, stop at that picture right there!

Rodin: (Stops Swiping Before Showing the Picture to Yoshi) Here?

Yoshi: Yeah, yeah. (Points at a Picture of a Rodin Hoding a Fiery Looking Nunchucks on the Phone Screen) What....are those!?

Rodin: One of my newest creations thus far: The Flambegé Nunchucku. An inferno dual wielding chuka sticks destructive enough to blitz through any gut wrenching demons that dares to stand in the way of the wielder. An expert of martial arts if you will.

Yoshi: How much it cost? I'll pay you anything!

Dark Pit: (Turns to Yoshi) Dude, you already have nunchucks at home.

Yoshi: (Turns to Dark Pit) Yeah, but this looks rad as all hell!

Rodin: And it's expensive as all hell. (Put his Phone Back Inside his Coat Pocket) I don't think any amount of allowance will be enough for you to pay off.

Yoshi: (Snaps his Fingers in Disappointment) ('Snap') Dangit!

Rodin: But i have yet to see any potential consumers on the other side interested in the product just yet, so I'll you have a test run or two in the near future, after you ask your parents first.

Yoshi: (Pumps His Fists Down in Excitement) Yes! (Smiles Brightly at the Fallen Angel) Thank you, Uncle Rodin.

Dark Pit: (Turns Back to Rodin) Yeah, thanks reuniting with my girlfriends, Uncle. I really appericate it.

Kyoko: You're the best!~

Misako: (Happily Nodded in Agreement)

Rodin: Yeah, yeah, it ain't nothin'. Just don't get in too much trouble, ya hear? Your mother will try and go for my neck if anything happens to any of y'all.

Dark Pit: Goddess or Witch

Rodin: Goddess. Although your witch momma ain't someone to tussle with either. But if y'all need me, I'll be out in the night, see what this New Donk City has to offer. Adios for now. (Teleports Himself Out the Room)

Dark Pit: Later, Uncle Rodin.

Kyoko: Byeeee!~

Misako: (Turns to Pitto Before Letting Out a Relax Yawn) Alright, loser!~ We probably have the whole evening to ourselves, so what we're gonna do first?

Dark Pit: Rudolph's suppose to be one in a few minutes, so....

Misako: (Turns to Pitto with Widened Eyes Along with the Others) Wait. YOU?

Kyoko: Wanted to watch a Christmas Special?

Yoshi: (Raises an Eyebrow) You SURE Pit and Sora hasn't gotten you into Christmas spirit yet?

Dark Pit: Yes, I'm sure! Those idiots have nothing on me. (Turns Away While Rubbing the Back of his Head) I just thought a story about some dumb reindeer is worth watching for a half an hour or two is all.....

Yoshi/Misako/Kyoko: (Stares at Pitto Unconvinced) Uh-huh. Sure.

@cyber-wildcat

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@caleb13frede

@bestpony666

@ink-correctsmashbrosbloo

[iheartchv]

hello !! im so unsure if ur matchups are open— so if they aren’t, feel free to delete this 😅

may i request a 🌿🍒 cod mw2 matchup?

mbti : enfp-t

zodiac : virgo

——————

preference : male lean

(my) gender : nb, they/them

——————

personality: do lean more on the extroverted side of things, since i am more of a people person! i’m usually really easy to talk to, i don’t really get angry easily. if anything, i dont really take things that seriously and i think more optimistic. that said, i like to talk.. a lot. if i were to be in a relationship, i’d probably be the person who talks a lot lol. i just like sharing my interests and just simply share my thoughts with people. if my brain wont stop then my words won’t as well LOL.

i do often overthink, since my thoughts race so often. sometimes if i do go quiet, it’s most likely that i’m zoning out — simply being in my own thoughts and having my head in the clouds !! i simply enjoy just being.. well, me!

i’m an artist by heart, often painting in my room. while i do enjoy being with people, i also need to recharge often! since i do get tired a lot, it’s either laying on my bed or paint my free time away! it generally messy so.. i hope my partner wont mind lol.

likes : art, photography, the clouds, milk tea!! sweet things in general

dislikes : heights (they SCARE me), being embarrassed (esp in public), extremely spicy food, conflict and arguments

———————

aah thats all!! thank u so much in advance and im sorry if this is long 😭 thank u!

//sure thing 😊

I match you with...

Simon "Ghost" Riley 💀

I think your Ghost would end up falling for you

Though it would take him a little while to realize it

You knew however that you were falling for him

You wouldn't stop staring at him from time to time

When he'd look your way, you'd quickly look away

As Ghost got to know you, he'd find himself feeling more comfortable around you

He'd listen to you talk, whether its about random stuff or just rambling on about something back in your hometown

And whether he is listening intently or not, he's hearing your voice

Sometimes he just likes listening to the sound of your voice

....

If he would visit you, he'd look around and see your painting(s)

You show him one you've been working on for a while

It was a painting of a familiar battlefield with uniformed soldiers, and he spots him in the painting...

And you...

Flashbacks of this particular moment played in his mind

This was when you had gotten wounded, then he found shelter to patch you up

"I don't know why but... this day, this moment has just stayed with me... I just had to paint it..."

Ghost is silent for a moment

He doesn't know how to exactly describe what he's feeling now

"... it's nice. You're really good... I mean that."

Butterflies fluttered inside you

It was nice being complimented by Ghost

......

During Christmas time, TF 141 would have a little party of their own

After talking a bit with everyone you would make way toward Ghost

You felt relaxed around him even though you liked to get away from people when you wanted to be alone

Without noticing Soap would sneak up behind you both with a mistletoe, teasing mostly you

Soap had picked up that you liked Ghost

He'd unconsciously smirk and shake his head, give a small chuckle

Ghost didn't say anything, he just watched you chase Soap around, your cheeks dark pink and threatening to hurt him

.....

[avintagepumpkin]

The Concert

A/N: Tumblr keeps giving me problems with posting so as I just posted it unedited, so sorry if its messy

Triggers: cussing not really any I can think of

This is an AU where the events of season 4 never happened, so of course Eddie is alive.

"Times have changed and times are strange Here I come, but I ain't the same." You, Robin, and Nancy were huddled close together all singing along to the deafening music. "Mama, I'm coming home"

FLASHBACK TO CHRISTMAS

As you ascended the steps to Steve's brightly lit house, a familiar voice called out your name. "Wait up!" You paused and turned, seeing Eddie hurry to catch up with you. His cheeks were rosy, and his breath came in short bursts from the brisk Christmas air. Each year since high school, you and your friends convened at Steve's a few days before Christmas to celebrate and exchange gifts. "Eddie, hey love, glad you could make it." You extended your arms for a hug, seizing every chance to embrace Eddie, whose presence always brought you joy. His hands cradled your chilled cheeks, thumb caressing your skin softly. "It's been too long since I've seen this face," he murmured, a statement simple yet potent enough to color your cheeks. "You have no idea how thrilled I am that you're here." "I wouldn't miss spending time with my favorite girl for the world." Eddie's gaze held yours, his hands still framing your face, and your heart raced with affection for everything about him—his smile, his eyes, his scent. Indeed, you harbored a deep crush on him. You yearned for his kiss, your lips inching closer to his, only to be interrupted by Dustin's exuberant shout. "EDDDDDDDIIIIIEEEEE!!!!""DUUUUUUUSSSSSTTTTIIINNNNN!!!" The two collided in a playful tussle, nearly toppling you, until a hand whisked you away into the warmth of Steve's family home. "STEVE!!! Y/N and EDDIE ARE HERE!!!" Robin's voice rang out, guiding you down the hall to the festively adorned living room. The Harrington residence never failed to dazzle, thanks to the expert decorators hired each Christmas. This tradition persisted, even though Steve had relocated to his own place three years prior. Approaching the tree to set down your gifts, Embraced by Nancy, she and Jonathan had arrived about five minutes earlier. "STEVE!" Robin's voice echoed once more. "ROBIN, YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE MY SOUFFLÉ COLLAPSE WITH ALL THAT SCREAMING!" Steve emerged from the kitchen, an apron with little Christmas trees tied around his waist. "What's up?" "Y/N and Eddie are here; can we start already? I'm starving." Steve was already handing Eddie a beer and greeted you with a light kiss on the cheek. "Hey sweetheart, so glad you could make it." "Wouldn't miss it for the world… Soufflé?" "Robin's request." You chuckled, oblivious to Eddie's gaze fixed on the small exchange between you and Steve, but Steve noticed. Aware of Eddie's crush on you, he couldn't resist teasing him about it.

After dinner, Robin announced that it was time to open presents, prompting everyone to gather around the tree. Eddie attempted to sit next to you, but Dustin and Steve got there first. With a sigh, Eddie settled on the other side of Dustin, not missing the chance to punch him in the arm. As gifts were opened and admired in turn, Steve brooded over his present from Robin—a book titled "100 Ways to Not Suck at Getting Girls," each of its 100 pages simply stating, "Don't be Steve Harrington." Dustin found it hilarious, which led Steve to leap over you and start punching Dustin's leg. Amidst the commotion, Eddie seized the opportunity to scoot closer to you. Mesmerized by the way the Christmas lights reflected in your eyes, Eddie was utterly captivated. Eventually, Robin intervened to stop the scuffle and began distributing the last of the gifts. The excitement was palpable because the surprise was finally unfolding. You, Robin, and Nancy had been saving weeks of paychecks to buy the group tickets to see a certain someone's favorite artist, which just so happened to fall two days before his 27th birthday. As Robin handed out matching envelopes to all the boys, your heart sank with anticipation. Eddie immediately recognized your handwriting and traced the script with his index finger, a smile spreading across his face. As Robin counted down, you placed your hand gently on Eddie's thigh, which caused his breath to hitch. He glanced at you, and your smile nearly kills him. At Robin's cue, the boys ripped open their envelopes. Eddie sprang up, pulled you from your seat, and enveloped you in a joyous bear hug, spinning you around. "OZZY FUCKING OSBOURNE, are you fucking kidding me right now?" "I'm taking you're happy?" "Happy? Are you fucking kidding me, I'm fucking in love right now." Eddie slowly stopped spinning you around as his cheeks flushed as bright as the Christmas bulbs on Steve's tree, you noticed panic mode set in as he quickly explained what he meant. "I didn't mean I'm actually in love with you, I just meant that I'm in love with the thought of us all going to see Ozzy Osbourne, you know sometimes you say things that come out all wrong" "Eddie" "I never meant to say something" "Eddie… its ok… you're welcome" You giggle hoping to ease his nerves, you knew he wasn't in love with you, so it wasn't a big deal. Robin broke up the awkwardness by grabbing Eddie and swinging him around screaming "OZZY OSBOURNE"

It was the best Christmas you could have asked for.

Fast Forward

Ozzy was already into his second encore, and there seemed to be no end in sight. But none of you minded; you were all having a fantastic time, soaking in the great music and cherishing the evening with wonderful friends. "Times gone by, seems to be You could have been a better friend to me Mama, I'm coming home"

With everyone's busy schedules, filled with work and school, this time together was precious. Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan were right behind you all. Throughout the night, Eddie would occasionally pull you close, swaying to the music or miming an air guitar, making sure to hand you an imaginary microphone so you could sing along to his favorite song. And for Eddie, every song by Ozzy was a favorite. "You took me in, and you drove me out Yeah, you had me hypnotized, yeah Lost and found and turned around By the fire in your eyes" Eddie reveled in your attention; he loved the way you smiled at him as he played the guitar riffs to "Iron Man," or gushed about how amazing it would have been to have gotten to see Randy Rhoads before he died. "You made me cry; you told me lies But I can't stand to say goodbye Mama, I'm coming home" Eddie adored your petite stature, standing only 4'11 You were his cherished little princess; he adored holding you close, feeling your head rest against his chest as you looked up and offered him that smile that always drove him crazy. "I could be right, I could be wrong It hurts so bad, it's been so long Mama, I'm coming home"

Steve was aware of Eddie's feelings and often encouraged him to take action. He knew many guys who would give their left nuts to have you, but Steve noticed you seemed to only have eyes for Eddie. You two were just too stupid to realize it. "Selfish love, yeah, we're both alone The ride before the fall, yeah" Eddie would dismiss the idea quickly, unable to believe that you might reciprocate his feelings. Thus, he would simply bite his lip and observe you from a distance. Steve frequently expressed how stupid he thought he was. "But I'm gonna take this heart of stone I just got to have it all" Leaning your head against Eddie's chest, you looked up at him singing and smiling lovingly at him. "I've seen your face a hundred times Every day we've been apart" Eddie felt as if his heart was on the verge of bursting. He doubted how much longer he could endure before he simply crumbled and die. "I don't care about the sunshine, yeah 'Cause mama, mama, I'm coming home I'm coming home" He needed his heart to stop pounding in his chest, and his lungs to allow him to breathe. He needed your gaze to stop piercing his soul, and the scent of you to stop overwhelming his senses. "You took me in and you drove me outYeah, you had me hypnotized, yeah Lost and found and turned around By the fire in your eyes" Towering over you with your head leaned back against his chest, he takes your face in his hands, leaning your head back so he could stare into your eyes. He slowly starts rubbing the sides of your face. He notices your pupil's contract and your breath hitch. "I've seen your face a thousand times Every day we've been apart" Your face was so warm against his hands Your lips were plump and wet from your lip gloss, he could smell the beer on your breath He needed…… "And I don't care about the sunshine, yeah" Leaning his face closer to yours "Cause mama, mama" As You pressed your lips to his and closed your eyes, hoping this moment would last forever. "I'm coming home" As you opened your eyes, the room seemed to whirl, and the music ceased. Uncertainty lingered about whether it was a figment of your imagination or reality, until Eddie twirled you and his lips met yours once more. In that moment, both you and Eddie were the happiest you had ever been, having Eddie finally kissed you.

[astroismypassion]

Composite chart real life experiences

Credit: @astroismypassion

👄 Leo Mars: we both became better dressers lol. However, confidence was always fluctuating, either too insecure and shy or exaggerated confidence (sometimes sounded arrogant). There was a lot of respect between us. Compliments were very free-flowing, easy to say and always present. When we would have a disagreement with each other, we would try to flirt our way out of it. Hyping the other person since it was so effortless. We would always be so specific about our compliments though. A lot of effort from both sides and the effort that the other made was always NOTICABLE.

👄 Mars in the 12th house: arghh this one😫 I’m going to focus on positives though, because I’ve already read too much slender on this one. It’s has its own beautiful moments, however just a few. We were both very (almost too much) selfless with each other. If one needed help, the other one was always there to help (even when they didn’t feel great themselves). A lot of dreams of this person, especially sexual ones. A constant sense of longing for each other. Also, when I first met the person I swear I saw them in a more dimmed light, like it FELT FOGGY and I was getting light-headed. I know it sounds odd, but I honestly give credit to 12th house overlay. There was also a lot of actions that one didn’t want the other to know that it was coming from them. Like the person disliked that I knew that he did something positive/pleasant for me. It was really weird and selfless in a secret admirer type of way, even though I’ve known this person well lol, it just seemed and felt like that. We were introduced at a live concert, again music theme with 12th house. However, addictions were present, I need to be real here, because it’s really not that pretty of a placement. Also inequal powers, ego, pride, status, age gap or level of education. There is some sort of imbalance between the two.

👄 Virgo Rising: really cool for both romantic and platonic I’d say! But I’ve only experienced platonic so far, you really morph into another and you become soo similar. Similar likes, dislikes, values, habits, lifestyle, life goals. You are really respectful and prideful of each other. A lot of words of affirmation and hyping each other up. A bit awkward and tense with physical affection though. Even though it’s an Earth Rising, it took us FORVER to just hug for the first time. We really like each other’s way of dressing and clothing style. Talk to each other daily, majority of communication is online. When we are with each other face to face, there are NEVER phones present, we literally just talk and talk. Oh we’ve met in educational setting!

👄 Capricorn Rising: really slow moving. There is imbalance, either age gap, different educational level, status, family background or maturity level. I always noticed one wants to move a lot faster than the other. One is also a lot more sure of their own feelings and stance about the other person and what they want out of the connection and the other one is much slower. You kind of still see them in your future. You would always want to overcome challenges, because you’d think to yourself “well this is a quality connection, maybe if not now, in a few years perhaps”. This Rising does not get enough credit for also possibily be a long distance relationship at some points in the connection.

👄 Cancer Venus: ahhh this one. This one fills you with all warm feelings. It’s a water sign, so you get imaginative flashbacks and scenarios in your mind that are domestic and soft in nature. Like baking Christmas cookies, enjoying a nice meal, chilling in the garden, buying a house/apartment with them, reading in the living room. Makes you want to start a family even before getting married. Also, you could possibily think about business with them or a shared project, activity that you both share. Bonus, if you also have composite Moon in the 4th/Cancer Moon, you’d really want to start a family with this person. Or you both adopt a pet. You have a song, playlist for each other. However, it’s really shy, private and subtle with physical affection. A lot of quality eye contact.

👄 Libra Rising: like even if you are kind of against marriage, when you get to meet this person you might feel like you could definitely see yourself marrying them. And that will really confuse you. A lot of indecisiveness on one or both ends. You are so in sync, natural with each other that you already look like partners together. Very respectful towards each other to the point of almost being too diplomatic with each other, but it’s because you always want to leave good impression on each other. You dress in a harmonious, similar manner. You kind of speak similarly and have similar values and outlook on life. One may have hard time admitting feelings. They are both keep waiting on the other to make the first move.

👄 Scorpio Rising lol: if this is romantic, you are so subtle when together that people might not realize you two are dating. A lot of misinterpretation between each other and coming from others, miscommunication as well. Grudge holding, but at the same time you want to give them a second chance. Eye contact straight in the eyes is incredibly difficult. Because you feel like you will reveal too much emotion just by staring at them. People always get a bit shocked by something that you two say. Also, other people, like even friends might meddle in the connection. If it falls apart, the main reason is often other people around you and not you two.

I might continue this post or do another one and make it into series! Take care🌻

Credit: @astroismypassion

[kentos-filmcamera]

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: Gojo Satoru doesn't handle commitment well, but that wasn't disclosed beforehand, and a breakup that should have ended up being peaceful, turns sour.

word count: 5k

warnings: italics mean flashbacks or text messages when included the [], brief mentions of sex, breakup feelings (so angst), unhappy ending

A/N: this is obviously based on the album by olivia rodrigo, mostly characterizing an emotional art school kid. i was seriously doubting to post it but i want to give the idea some closure so enjoy! I'm so sorry but this doesn't have a happy ending, apologies to the gojo stans out there -g

“You’re breaking up with me because I’m too… young?”

Now that Gojo heard it said out loud by someone who wasn’t him, the excuse was sloppy at best. I mean, you were only a year and a class younger. It was a nasty way of getting rid of you that anyone could recognize from miles away.

He looked away as you shuffled to lean down and pull on your panties, your cunt still messy with both of your cum, which somehow made the young college boy want to go for a second round. Should he pull the make-out sex excuse? The ‘I’m just joking baby, c’mere’? But he knew that wasn’t smart the moment the aura of your room shifted. It wasn’t comfortable anymore. The buzz the small neon sign you had on the wall behind your bed was becoming annoying, and the rattle the pipes emitted when someone in a nearby dorm was washing their hands or flushing the toilet made your nerves spike. But most importantly, the man sitting on your bed stuck out; he didn’t belong there anymore.

“Uh, yeah, sorry” Gojo pulled his best puppy face, looking back at you. You looked distraught. “It’s just that… I have to concentrate on my studies, y’know?” He laughed nervously “The gift is still very nice, thank you, sweetie.”

Sweetie. You scoffed, and that gained a reaction from him as you looked away and stood up to face the snowy window and massage your temples. God, your friends had warned you about this. His friends had warned you. Hell, your fucking piano teacher had warned you. Gojo Satoru had a treacherous reputation as the biggest womanizer in the whole area. He collected bodies like a serial killer. It was even surprising you had lasted that much, even for him!

Gojo knew he had to break things up when his limit had reached its final phase, the breaking point; an expiration date you didn’t even know you had. And if you had known, the warning would have been perfect for you not to make a fool out of yourself by devoting to him every drop of energy you had left after classes and running the couple errands every other college student had to run. You followed him around like a puppy while trying to spare some dignity to yourself. Nine months, nine months were important, right? That was the literal gestation period of a newborn baby. Christmas to you was important, so you gave him a significant gift and a damn good dick ride, so then he could give you an excuse of aftercare and break the news. Now you stood there, nipples getting all frosty as your heater worked when it pleased, and it was not one of those times.

“Get out” You grumbled, not even giving him a chance to think as he was dumbfounded staring at your barely clothed ass. He snapped out of his own thoughts and nodded, understandingly, getting up to change back to his clothes.

“You’re not going to…” He pointed to your clothes but only gained a flip flop thrown in his direction. “Okay, okay, I’m going!”

Satoru said sweet things and excuses to you as he apologized profusely for his behavior and wished you better, admitting his mistakes, but you didn’t listen. You were too busy trying to hold in the tears without having your expression twist around like you ate a Warheads candy. He was terrified as you slammed the door in his face with a demonic frown he never thought you could formulate. As he walked down the hall and away from your dorm, he heard a high-pitched scream of anger that seemed out of a low-budget movie FXs and something crashing down at your apartment.

There it was. It was not that you were young, you were… immature. Not even that, you behaved like a teenager in most of your habits. You didn’t drink or smoke, you valued your school work way too much and listened to One Direction religiously. That ticked him off. Not only that, but you had a planner and a scheme for everything, you held a relationship with your parents politely and happily, got along well with your siblings, and even though you knew what you had to do, you let yourself be molded by other’s expectations of you. You weren’t young, you were just… too perfect, too rigid, too… weak. You were a little schoolgirl, you only missed the plaid skirt and blazer uniform and he couldn’t stand that for anything in the world. He wanted one of those girls that walked around almost naked because they knew that he could fight any man to death just to protect your hoe-ish honor. He wanted a girl that danced topless on top of barstools and allowed him to do body shots off her belly button.

“Satoru, baby boy. You want a hooker, not a girlfriend” Geto ruffled his hair affectionately as Utahime snorted before laughing. He asked them to meet up after the small incident, trying to shield himself with their words of security as they always did. This time, however, felt different, as they all became so acquitened with his latest fling.

“Poor girl, honestly, I liked her” Shoko blew a crumb off the unpolished and scratched wooden table and laid back on the booth in one of their regular spots. It was a cozy bar, but after constant fighting breaking out with half the freshman class and some seniors, she had started the hunt for another one to hang out in. “You’re a jackass, y’know? I don’t even understand why you bother sometimes”

“Oop!” Gojo heard beneath him as he crashed into someone. A pretty girl carrying an acoustic and an electric guitar. He was visiting the final exhibition of the semester in the art division of the college, where Geto participated in plastic arts and sculpture. “I’m really sorry” You apologized kindly with a light bow before rushing off.

“Who was that?” Gojo elbowed his best friend, watching your speed through the crowd of students with your instruments.

“Hm? Oh, that’s (Y/N), she’s in the musical arts division. An amazing singer and can play almost anything that has strings in it. Very good with the piano also” He said nonchalantly as he fixed his and his class’ exposition final details.

There was something about you that had stung his interest and had left him sore. He had a thing for the chase, he wanted to find you, seduce you; lure you into his antics. But first, he had to see what you were doing entering the auditorium.

Never in a million years could he have imagined, in your big patchwork cardigan and little black dress paired with mary jeans and a handful of playful accessories like heart earrings and beaded necklaces and a thousand rings with your hands carrying two guitars packed with stickers, that you were going to perform a rock piece for your first presentation. The theme for the art exposition was movie films, as it was explained on the various sets. Geto had sculpted the iconic kiss scene from The Notebook, even, making it look like something straight out of the Renaissance.

You introduced yourself to the crowd after the auditorium’s doors were closed, and gave thank yous from part of the directive as this was the last event of the night. After your small speech, Gojo could note that you were well-liked among your peers as they clapped and cheered you on with no obligation whatsoever, it wasn’t out of courtesy, it was out of pure feelings of joy and pride towards one of their brightest students.

“Is she popular?” Gojo asked curiously to his friend, who leaned his head side to side.

“Not exactly. She’s well-liked since she’s talented but doesn’t flaunt it, and is very involved in everything around the school. She could be popular but has a small group of friends” He hummed, checking his nails “I’ve done some model work with her, so stunning”

Gojo’s smile flared up to his ears to form a mischievous grin, earning a smack from his friend “What?! You’ve asked me to do model work, I know all your artsy code names!”

“Scenery model work, you idiot! I painted something similar to a Manet piece a while ago with her and two other boys” He rolled his eyes playfully, now looking ahead.

“The Eiffel Tower?” Before Suguru could loosely protest, their attention was turned back to you as your tone shifted.

You introduced the band on stage, starting with your drummer, who surprised Satoru by being a girl, your main guitarist, a long guy with droopy eyes, your bassist, a guy with enthusiastic eyes and smile, and yourself as the main singer and second guitarist. “This is Take Me away, from Freaky Friday”

As a childhood favorite among a lot of college students, everyone was expectant, probably at the edge of their seats. The drummer marked their start as you and the main guitarist started on the iconic intro of the song. All of your playings were polished, but what amazed Gojo the most was the way your whole aura changed while presenting. You looked like a higher being, something unreal to the masses. Not only that, but your voice was incredible. You started on the guitar solo by yourself to then harmonize with your main guitarist as you took the lead. Everyone was happier with what they were seeing, and the applause was strenuous. Happily, you hoped over to your bandmates and gave them a giant group hug before bowing all together and setting off backstage.

“I really like her” Gojo sighed out loud, gobsmacked at what he just saw.

Geto laughed loudly “Never saw you as the type to chase a goody-goody like her” He threw his arm across his shoulders as they walked on par towards their next destination.

Gojo wondered deeply. Was he about to go all through this pain of chasing a girl just to prove to his friends he was capable of dating someone so “good”? Ultimately, the answer was yes. Compared to other conquests he had done, this was going to be a piece of cake!

“Do I… know you from somewhere?” You chewed on a toothpick as the tall man with white hair checked out a vinyl record at the music shop you worked at. It had been almost a week since your final exhibition, and he finally organized all the ideas in his mind to head there.

He smiled coyly “I don’t know, do you?” Surprisingly enough, aside from the fact you flustered a little, he earned himself a raised eyebrow and a side look as you bagged his purchase.

“Okay, I was at your art school last week” He admitted after you didn’t seem to be making many conversations after that. That was what sparked your interest.

“Oh really?” You smiled, looking up at him as you crossed your arms loosely across your chest.

“Yes, really” His smile widened as he leaned in, his face closer to yours as his sunglasses hung loosely on the bridge of his nose.

You chuckled before stepping away “What was your favorite part?” You asked, beeping the record. Flower boy by Tyler the Creator. Interesting.

“Seeing your performance with your band,” He said confidently, even though he hadn’t been paying much attention to everything else. He laughed when you blushed profusely and shrunk in your place. Bingo.

He noticed the way to conquer you was flattering your talents one way or another, however, that meant he had to stick around you enough so he didn’t run out of material. And he did, not only after the fact that he had to get to know you better to seduce you but the fact you were incredibly hard to get. In the beginning, he thought you were playing since you like to be chased and the attention and theatrics of it all, but then he realized you had really high standards and played by the rules often. But ultimately, your company was good for him. You made him create himself a habit of better studying strategies and you often found yourselves studying together in the library.

At one point, Gojo Satoru didn’t even remember he was trying to prove a point when he fell asleep on your shoulder while you went over a music sheet, his mind dozing off as you wrote lines and circles while a constant beat played on your phone. He was just so… comfortable. He wanted to stay there forever, smelling your clean-scented perfume and feeling your raspy fingertips caress his skin. He wanted to always make you laugh while drinking coffee or going out to dinner. He didn’t find any other alternative to his urges other than asking you to be his girlfriend. His first official girlfriend. After almost six months going after you, he had finally done it, but at what cost now?

“You do like the chase” Geto agreed and Gojo just sighed and took a big gulp of his soda, hoping he didn’t get any hiccups or make him burp. “And a personal chauffeur”

He didn’t fail to notice how off he felt. What was this feeling of heaviness and slumber in his chest? He felt a pressure on his shoulders that provoked a slump and hid his proud chest. This had never happened before, oh my god, did he have an STI? Back at his own dorm, he checked WebMD to check different possible symptoms of different illnesses. No cold sores, no unusual discharge, no weird lumps, no rashes his mind didn’t makeup, and no warts moving around his balls. Everything was okay, why was he feeling… bad?

He called his mum. He wasn’t a momma’s boy, he was just concerned. The most amount of blood drained off his face when her response to his desperation was “Oh honey, you’re not sick, you’re heartbroken”

Gojo was appalled. He didn’t have a heartbreak. His heart was unbreakable. He argued with his mom, who laughed again “They said the same thing about the Titanic”

He proceeded to lay down that night, sleepless, looking up at the ceiling and sometimes peeking at his phone briefly to check your pictures and messages. Upon one of those visits, he realized you had sent him a message. [ you are literally the biggest asshole i have ever met. ]

[ gojo satoru: Hm? Is the little princess going to cry? ]

[ y/n: fuck you, satoru ]

[ gojo satoru: You’re very lovely too, thank you ]

[ gojo satoru: Not much of an asshole now, right? ]

[ y/n: oh, trust me, you are ]

[ y/n: and i’ll show everyone that to everyone ]

[ gojo satoru: oh, shiver me timbers! ]

He attempted to type in something but realized it wouldn’t send. You had blocked him. Ignoring the pang in his chest, he laughed and threw the phone somewhere else. “Weak” He grumbled and sank into his bedsheets, his subconscious wishing his bed was as comfortable as yours.

He wasn’t exactly wrong, but the truth hurts most of the time. You were so weak you crumbled into pieces instantly, crying like a wounded dog. You stayed like that for the next few days, hiding your sadness and avoiding the hard stare Geto Suguru was known forgiving. For the winter Holidays, you left campus to go back home to your family, as you are accustomed to. You had a great number of cousins to spend the holidays with, and now that you were all of age, you all rounded up to the big city, wanting to spend New Year’s Eve partying at one of your favorite elite clubs, because the occasion deserved it.

Your big cousins swore you were going there to find yourself a fine, rich, young man to rebound yourself after your latest misery, but as they had left you unattended on the dance floor, the few grams of luck you had on your pocket disappeared when you turned on your heels and noticed Gojo.

Kissing another woman.

Your heartbeat dropped and for a second, you considered you were going into cardiac arrest. This is where you had regretted not taking the Adderall one of your cousins was offering on the way there. The whole scene around you slowed down as you watched them almost swallow each other’s tongues. You spent days trying to convince yourself over the fact it wasn’t you, it was him. It was his decision, it was his academic problems. He was right, you were too young. You felt like a naïve little girl wearing a puffy dress, a pair of pigtails, and sucking on a lollipop for believing his lies. It hadn’t even been two weeks before he decided to stick his dick into another hole, and that made you… angry? livid? sad?

As your family realized what you were staring at, they took you away, the commotion nearby making Gojo realize the situation. Your eldest sister hid your face in her chest as your male cousins decided to have a few “words” with him. But you didn’t cry, you didn’t stop them even. There was something inside you that just broke. You swore it was a blood vessel in your nose, but it was beyond physical pain and experience. A new sentiment inside you was born: revenge.

Gojo didn’t know anything about you after that. It was like you had vanished. He even walked around your campus just to play the good old “Oh hey! What a coincidence!“ but the opportunity never came. Still, with the curiosity about your well-being, he fucked many women, enough to have an actual STI scare. It was normal for him, right? He believed so, but his friends thought otherwise.

First, Geto took him out for a milkshake and some burgers. Satoru overlooked it and happily went on the date. But when they sat down at a park bench nearby, obnoxiously slurping his milkshakes, Suguru suddenly stopped, turned to his friend, and held his hand. “Satoru, my love”

“I know what this is!” Gojo gasped, staring at him with bright, wide eyes. He was being intervened! Wait… He was being intervened? “I haven’t done anything!”

“We’re worried about you… I’m worried about you!” Suguru set his milkshake aside “You’ve been sleeping with literally everything that moves! This isn’t you! You know it’s okay to be heartbroken, right? It’s okay to feel things”

Gojo thought about it, and his best friend was right. Damn. He knew him like the palm of his hand. After leaving you, it was like he fucked just because. Just to prove another point, this one being that he didn’t mope; he didn’t wail around a girl he dumped. Women wailed because he dumped them left and right but… He had never dumped anyone before actually.

He just ghosted them after he sensed any type of commitment, and they were at peace with that. But the ghost of your distraught expression and the pain that flashed through your eyes on New Year’s haunted him, serving as a punishment for all his wrongdoings. Was this karma making him suffer? Or just the fact that he was also weak, and he suffered alongside you. He slumped in his seat and leaned into his friend’s embrace, letting out a weary sigh. He missed you.

March 20th. It was a weird day right from the start. Starting with a loud alarm reminding him of the first-year anniversary that never came. His sleep was ruined, so he had to pull out of bed earlier. His classes went as normal, aside from the fact that a fellow statistics classmate, Nanami Kento, didn’t even seem annoyed at his digs while he was during class.

Nanami was a nice guy, but he was quiet and low profile, even though he was extremely talented. They had been paired together on several group projects. He liked to bother him with all the good intentions, trying to squeeze a laugh out of him but it was impossible to do so. Still, he liked his pal very much.

The other weird part came at night when Shoko burst into their regular spot to tug them all out of their seats into the uber she was riding, announcing in a victorious tone she had found a new spot downtown, with live music and everything. Considering she liked low-profile bars, this was peculiar of hers. But the mystery was solved when she mentioned the lower liquor prices and better ambiance.

“Are you sure we want to try this out?” Gojo confirmed, looking down at his friends as the first who stood up from the booth to collect their jackets.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Shoko said with a straight face while the activity in the place increased as men started to throw themselves at each other in an “epic battle”. “I don’t even know why we kept coming here in the first place” She sighed, holding her jacket close to her body as she double-checked for the Uber and headed towards the car.

The bar was cozy, and somehow packed. Gojo overlooked the poster on the door for tonight’s band, while Geto’s eyes widened and he leaned in to whisper to Utahime, who whispered to Shoko and laughed loudly.

“What a coincidence!” She hummed, thanking the bartender for her glass of red wine. She took a sip and sighed happily.

As time went on, the place became even fuller. The public was nice to each other and incredibly lively. The bartenders looked as if they were actually happy to be there doing their job and the bouncer was a giant man who did care about his clients. Among the crowd, Gojo recognized Nanami, who wasn’t wearing glasses and had let his blonde strands go all messy, with his best friend, Yu Haibara, the complete opposite of him; the guy was a literal ray of sunshine with optimistic eyes always looking out for his best friend.

Gojo excused himself for a second and went forward to say hello to both of them, excusing himself but still getting through the crowd easily due to his height.

“Hey!” He said cheerfully, as Nanami looked at him with confused droopy eyes.

“Hello, uh” He cleared his throat and straightened up. He got a nudge from the boy next to him “Oh, Gojo, this is my best friend Yu Haibara. Yu, this is Satoru Gojo, he’s in my advanced statics elective”

“Hi! Nice to meet you!” Yu extended his hand with bright eyes, and Gojo enthusiastically stretched it accompanied by a greeting. Haibara’s grip was rather tight and his smile seemed tense. Upon closer inspection, his new acquaintance seemed… familiar. Nowhere he could really pinpoint. He’ll probably find out about it later through some stalking.

Before anyone could say anything else, Yu’s phone vibrated. “Oop! That’s my queue. Nice meeting you” He gave him a tiny smile that Gojo thought was laced with malice before getting lost in the crowd and towards the front of the spacious club.

“I’ve never… seen you around here” Nanami was honest. Was this some hot local spot everyone knew about except for him? Gojo felt betrayed by the universe for prying him away from something so… cool!

“Oh, my friend Shoko over there wanted to try somewhere new to hang out” He replied honestly, overlooking the way Nanami analyzed him. The way he crossed his long lanky legs, the way he held his drink, and how he leaned against the tall table aside from the fact his shirt was more unbuttoned each time he saw him made Kento believe this man didn’t care at all about anything. “I’ve never seen you as the type to go out… well, anywhere”

Nanami remained neutral at the dig “I frequent here sometimes. Mostly when Yu’s band is playing. I have another, uh… friend there too. I’m sure you’ll like them” This was the first time Gojo heard Nanami honestly humored by something. But what? It was like they had planned a surprise party for him and every single one of the party-goers knew but him. He didn’t believe himself to be that stupid, so it wasn’t obvious what was going on here!

Noticing the man was fighting with the demons in his head, Nanami excused himself “Hope you like the show and the place” He gave a courtesy nod before walking off.

“C’mon, it’s about to start!” He was suddenly taken to join the crowd, though from a distance. Gojo watched as the band walked in slowly, not making out any faces due to the lack of lights currently on the stage.

“Damn, the main singer is fucking hot!” Gojo sighed at just a silhouette. His friends held in their laughter as Geto patted his shoulders. Soon, the pacing sound of the drumsticks was heard, indicating the start for the performers.

“I want to be, like, messy!”

Gojo froze. His usual smirk lowered down slowly. He recognized that voice. He remembered that moment,

You were pacing around your room frustrated. “I have to finish this recording session for tomorrow at ten. I can’t compose this all by then!” You sounded genuinely heartbroken.

He stood up from his place in your bed and massaged your shoulders. You had been sitting on your desk for about two to three hours, practicing on the violin, the instrument your family originally made you play before you explored the guitar and piano. “I’m sure you can do it, baby girl”

You knew he said the pet name affectionately, not mocking you like he did at first. “This is so hard! This always has to be absolutely perfect. See, this is why I prefer the guitar. I can do whatever I want! And right now, I want to be, like, messy!” You ranted as he tried to stop you from smashing the instrument to pieces. Since it was a background recording, you never stopped and caught the whole conversation.

“I’m so insecure I think, that I’ll die before I drink” And as the memento faded away, there you were in the flesh, singing a rock-influenced song he was very sure you wrote yourself.

It had been three months after you had last seen each other. Gojo stared gobsmacked at you; a girl that he had only seen her belly button during sex, was wearing a low rise purple plaid mini skirt, a black thin cardigan with holes in the sleeves, and the tallest knee-high boots he had ever seen anyone wear; Naked Wolfe, he recognized the brand. He knew you had money but you always refused to use it inexpensive clothing or accessories. What happened to you?!

Then, his eyes landed on your bassist. Oh. So that's where he knew Haibara from. You smiled broadly as the song finished, brutal, you had named it. And what was actually brutal was the way his heart squeezed around in his chest.

“Hi, Young Folks!” You greeted the crowd, following the club’s name and obvious target audience. “Um, thank you so much everyone for being here tonight” He felt a pang in his chest; a Deja vú. Just like the first time he ever saw you, up on that stage, you introduce your band and yourself, smiling proudly “I know the regulars are probably a little tired of hearing me sing the same three songs” The crowd answered back, disagreeing “But don’t worry! Like the good swiftie I am, I finally finished the first breakup song I ever wrote”

Satoru’s eyes widened. There was… more? Brutal was brutal by itself, but now there’s a whole repertoire? Dedicated to the disgraces he brought upon you?

“But! I’m leaving it for the end, ‘cuz if not, where’s the fun in that?” You laughed and smiled sweetly at the protests going beneath you. “This next one, I didn’t write but it’s… simply iconic. This is Black Sheep, by Metric”

The interlude to the beginning of the song with the electric guitar, piano, and bass was straight out of Scott Pilgrim. If it was even possible, from the first time he saw you almost a year and a half ago, your playing was even more perfect; cleaner, sharper. He hates to admit it, but he had goosebumps.

As the intro went down, your eyes inevitably landed on him. Your expression was neutral, and unreadable “Hello, again, a friend of a friend” You waved to him, half smiling. Suddenly, he felt like Michael Cera being overlooked by Brie Larson in those giant curb stomper heels. He looked away as you did, continuing your performance smoothly. But unintentionally, he was out of it. Without even noticing, the set went through his empty eyes in what seemed seconds.

“Since I promised you guys a new song…” You bit your lip, feeling the butterflies gurgle in your abdomen, all excited. You looked down at Nanami, who sat close to the stage but on the sidelines. He just smiled for a millisecond. “This is good for you. Satoru, thank you so much for giving me this inspiration. I owe you one” You winked at him, watching his expression become as unreadable as yours was moments ago.

Gojo sighed and felt his stomach flip in a nauseating way. You stared blades at him throughout the whole set, and when he believed things wouldn’t get worse, they did.

“Remember when you swore to God I was the only person who got you” The anger and euphoria in your voice were boiling over. “Well, screw that” You threw your arms up frustrated “And screw you!” Without any care in the world, feeling as your spirit replenished, you pointed at the tall white-haired man almost sitting at the back, making almost everyone turn to look at him.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Gojo pushed his way out of there, ignoring the calls from his friends and getting into an Uber, hot tears streaming down his face. Was this karma coming to bite him in the ass? While you gathered up a couple hundred people to celebrate your breakup through music, he moped and felt his expression going sour about the whole ordeal. Maybe he should get a therapist, address his feelings and consider his options better before he walks out on one of the best things he had in life.