#kindergarten sequel

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[chuluoyi]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄

- sylus x reader

more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)

note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')

“Missus, please spare us!”

You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.

“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”

“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”

“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”

You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.

“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”

“—?! Missus, please!”

“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.

Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.

Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”

And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."

Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."

Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?

“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”

Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”

Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.

“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”

“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”

Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.

And so, you went up to him. However...

“...Are you single, miss?”

Here we go again.

You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”

The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”

This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.

This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.

“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”

Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”

The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”

This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.

“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”

“No, no! I mean it!”

He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.

The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—

He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”

“Oh...”

And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?

Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.

That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.

For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.

Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—

You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.

A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.

“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”

He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.

—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.

. . .

“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”

“I do.”

“Then, will you play with me?”

Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.

You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.

"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.

That was the last straw. Enough is enough.

Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.

“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—

“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.

After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.

"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"

"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.

"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."

His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.

"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.

Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.

Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—

“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”

“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.

But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.

There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.

But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.

You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?

“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”

“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.

“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”

You shook your head.

You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.

You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.

For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.

“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.

So needy and pliant… for him.

“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”

Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.

But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”

He shot you an irked glance. “No.”

“He calls me by your bird’s name.”

“...”

“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”

“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”

Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.

Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.

“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—

Neck. You realized in horror.

“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”

“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.

"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"

You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"

"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"

Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.

"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.

“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.

"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"

Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"

It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—

“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”

It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!

His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"

He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.

You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—

“Stop thrashing!”

“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.

“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”

You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”

But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.

“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.

“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”

Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.

When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.

It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.

Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.

Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?

You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.

“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”

“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.

Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.

“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”

“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”

Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”

“Just who do you think I am?”

“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”

Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”

“Sylus!”

If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...

“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.

This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”

“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”

Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”

You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.

“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.

“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”

“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.

Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”

“Wait!”

You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”

Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.

“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”

This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.

He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.

“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”

His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.

After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.

Epilogue

"Do you hear anything?"

"No, nothing..."

Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.

“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”

The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.

"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."

"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."

“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”

Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.

“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”

“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”

As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.

[okay-babe]

Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)

A Good Thing, Indeed

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon <3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.

Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.

You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.

Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.

Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.

Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.

Every. Single. Time.

It was as if the two of you were meant to be.

The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.

To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.

There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).

For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.

And how could it not?

You were his wife.

You!

The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.

The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.

You.

The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.

You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.

And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.

The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?

How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!

Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.

If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.

And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.

An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.

Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.

His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.

You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.

You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.

And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?

The short answer was, he couldn't.

And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.

And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?

Well, he tried his best not to.

Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.

Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.

But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.

Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.

Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.

There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.

Mimzy.

Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.

It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.

Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.

It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.

A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.

"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"

There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.

"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"

The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,

"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."

She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.

"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"

"Alastor."

Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.

"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"

She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.

"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"

She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.

"I'll see ya around dollface!"

She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.

What a fantastic start to one's day.

By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.

He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.

Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.

The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.

"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"

Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.

"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."

Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.

That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.

"Mimzy?"

It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.

Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.

"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"

The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.

"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"

She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.

And then, much to his shock, there you were.

Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.

Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.

The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.

"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"

She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.

"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"

You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.

"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"

Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,

"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"

She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.

Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.

"And you didn't think, my dear,"

He began, his voice low,

"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"

The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.

This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.

Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.

The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.

Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.

There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.

What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?

Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.

Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.

"Let her explain?"

You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.

'Stay home with me?'

'Give him a chance?'

'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'

(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).

And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.

She didn't have long, that was for sure.

If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.

And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.

And what a tale she spun, indeed.

With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.

Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.

And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.

You'd missed this.

(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)

Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.

Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...

"Mimzy."

Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.

Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,

"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,

"Efforts."

How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.

Alastor nodded,

"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."

He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"

The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.

She was quick to answer.

"Great question, dollface!"

She laughed nervously,

"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."

She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.

Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...

"Dearest,"

He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.

"Speaking of 'down here',"

Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,

"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"

Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.

Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.

"I uh, I killed a parent..."

You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.

"Pardon?"

He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.

You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?

Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.

You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,

"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."

You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.

He was positively enamored.

"You killed Harry Wells?"

He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.

Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.

"I uh, yeah. I did."

The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.

He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.

"And to think,"

He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.

"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."

You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,

"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"

Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.

"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."

[kaciebello]

Not even the addressee

Masterlist Badger express ★ Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff ! reader (fem) Summary: When Theodore's name gets misspelled he's not happy about it.  Warnings: no use of y/n, cigerets Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1.1k Song: Up to You - PRETTYMUCH, NCT Dream

Mr Theodore Nott was one of his kind. Or he liked to think so, when one of the Ravenclaw girls could not remember his name he was baffled. How dare she. She went through his whole friend group before she came to something resembling his name. He would understand if he was some kind of low-muggle-born. But he was part of what was essentially a royalty. Now, it did occur to him that she might have done it intentionally. He is not dumb, he very much knows all the mind tricks and hacks. And although it was supposed to get his yearning to make her remember his name, he was just mad. Mad is not enghou, he was pissed.

Sitting down and zoned out, he kept playing with the note in his hand. He did not even notice the Hufflepuff girl standing before him with a concerned look. He registered her only when she waved her hand in front of him. He jumped a bit and looked at her. Her yellow bow adorned her hair. Her usual uniform was covered in a long fluffy yellow sweater. Her arms were now retracted to her body.

It was not unusual to see her in the Slytherin common room. He wouldn't even bat an eye if he saw her in the boy's bathroom, or the chamber of secrets. To see her in his room was questionable. He may have asked a question, be it not his mood right now. He was just going to assume she was here to get something for Enzo.

“You okay?” She asked, still a bit startled by his quick movements. He just sighs and reaches over to his bedside table for a pack of cigarettes. He lights one up and offers the other one to her. The girl declines and waves her hand around to get the smoke away from her face. He shrugs and puts them into his pocket. He exhales the smoke and stares at the wall for a minute before speaking.

“You know my name right?” The girl looks at him even more puzzled. Of course, she knew his name, they had been friends for a few months now. Granted sometimes she calls him Theo and both he and Mattheo turn around, but that hardly seems like her fault. She was hesitant to answer.

“Have you changed it?” She asks. She does not mean to offend him if he perhaps decides to go by Denim or something like that. He just gives her a side eye before getting up to fetch the ashtray. She took a few tiny steps to get out of his way. When he passed her back, he gave her the note. She took a look at it. It was a love note alright, Theodore's name was misspelled in all the ways possible. Not even his last name was spelled right, missing one t at the end. The girl was starting to frown and Theodore could see she was getting mad. Finally, someone who understood him.

“Oh hell no!” She yelped. Theodores smiled in bliss, he knew he could count on the Hufflepuffs when it came to empathy. She took a few steps to him and grabbed his face so he could look at her. 

“Who gave you this and how dare they steal my business.” His smile instantly dropped. She was mad but not for the same reason. looking up at her caged in her arms. For a second he thought it didn't matter if she did not know his name. But then he remembered that the Ravenclaw girls pretended to not know and he was pissed again.

“Is that what you're mad about?”

“YES!? What else?

“LOOK AT MY NAME!” Her eyebrows scrunched together and she took another look at the note. She read his name over and over again. Deep down she knew it was supposed to be his name, but it looked like a poor attempt by a kindergartener. Her lips twitched to a smile and her eyes kept flying between him and the note. She was trying to keep her giggles down, he knew it, and she was doing a horrible job at it. He was starting to lighten up.

“Who the fuck is Thieodor.” She laughed out loud. He hung his head in defeat. Debating whether or not to change it. Whether or not to change his whole identity. He however snapped when the girl in front of him placed her hand on his shoulder and wheezed at the fact that his last name is not written as Nott, but as Noot. His hands reach to the base of her neck. He stands up now towering over her. 

She looked at him dazed, eyes full of tears from laughing, seemingly not releasing the position they were in. He's very close to her face, even closer than that one time she was forced to count his eyelashes as a dare. He leaned closer to her, only stopping by her ear. Her breaths were now quick and sharp.

“Theo?” She asked, her voice very weak and quiet. He liked it like that. He liked that she said his name, he liked that she knew his name. If she were to say it again, he swears his knees would bend and he would not be responsible for what was happening after that. He wanted to beg, he would never, but he wanted to. He didn’t answer her, rather he leaned in even closer. She could feel his breath on her neck.

“Say it again, please say my name again.” He whispered. He was so close. One little move and he would kiss her neck and take their friendship on a different boat. He just needed to hear the magic words. He should have known something was wrong when she giggled first before speaking.

“Noot.” She says softly and starts laughing. He shoots up to his full height looking at her in disbelief. He pushes her away with a grimace as she continues laughing.

“Go fuck yourself.” He murmurs and lights up another cigarette. She was now on the floor clutching her stomach. There was nothing he could do but watch her. He waited till she was done. It took her a good 10 minutes. When she was done, she got up, her legs a little bit wobbly. She could not look at his face without smiling excessively but Theodore decided that it was enough for him.

“Let's go, we need to find the others.”

“Okay, Noot Noot.”

“Stop.”

Tag list @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he possibly tell you how he feels when you’re leaving him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,505

Warning: Language, suggestiveness, mentions of sex, mentions of death, depression, insomina

A/N: BestFriend!Suguru series is now our Saturday special!! Let’s goooooo!!! 😈💚

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Tweleve

Fifteen years ago, you and your family moved to Tokyo from the countryside due to your father’s job. You were so nervous, walking into your kindergarten class and holding your bag as your homeroom teacher introduced you to your new classmates. Everyone stared at you as you were ushered towards a table with two boys. One stuck his tongue out at you while the other colored with crayons.

“Oooh.” You said in awe, looking at the picture the dark-haired boy was coloring. “That’s pretty! Did you draw that?”

The crayon stopped moving as the dark-haired boy looked up at you for the first time. His dark eyes widened as he looked you over, a rosy flush dusting his cheeks. “I uhm,” his eyes darted back towards the paper, “yeah, I drew it.” You leaned in, your eyes sparkling in awe, as your classmate sucked in a deep breath as you got closer.

“So pretty!”

Swallowing hard, the boy continued coloring. “I-If you want it, you can have it when I’m done.” His voice is so timid that you almost don’t hear it.

“Eh?! Really!?” You smile, revealing a missing tooth. “Thank you—uhm, what’s your name?”

“G-Geto.”

“Thank you, Geto!”

“You’re welcome.”

That day marked the beginning of your friendship with Geto Suguru! You two have been inseparable ever since that day. You were having play dates and attending the same middle school, high school, and college! You even lived in the same apartment complex, just two floors separating you.

Suguru never once gave up on his passion for drawing, trading his crayons and construction paper for oil paint and canvas. You didn’t have an artistic bone in your body. You did, however, have a way with words. You were constantly losing yourself in characters you'd create and worlds you built, and you never thought of sharing them with the world until Suguru pushed you to do so.

You took his advice and submitted your novel to several writing competitions, not expecting anything to come from it. Boy, were you shocked when you won first place and were allowed to publish your novel! The publishing company loved the story, your characters, and the premise of it, so much so that they signed you on for a whole saga.

That was great! Your characters would finally be given the chance to shine. Their stories would be told! There was just one issue that you kept running into while working on the sequel. Your high-end fantasy novel was a romance between the princess of your series and her knight. You ended the first book with a very intimate kiss and confession. The whole purpose was to have readers wanting more, and they wanted more.

Your reader wanted more Ilaus and Oaklynn, more kisses, sweet whispers of nothing, and steamy smut. The readers wanted to see the lovely, innocent princess and her hot knight getting freaky. Which you were all down for! You wanted them to get to that point as much as your readers! You wanted Oaklynn to be face down getting plowed by Ilaus more than anyone else! You had written their story and made them suffer; they deserved to be happy with each other.

So why was writing sex scenes your kryptonite?!

You anxiously watched Nanami Kento, your beta reader and editor, scroll through your phone and read the latest pages you had written. His face was stoic, unreadable as his eyes glimpsed over the screen. Your leg bounced as he put your phone down, his eyes focusing on his mug before he sighed.

“Oh my god, you hate it.” Anxiety settled in your gut. “It’s terrible! I knew it sucked.”

Nanami winced, his eyes not meeting yours, and he brought his mug to his mouth and took a sip. “Why did you call his penis ‘his raging meat stick’? Like it was a slab of salami?” Your friend watched you slam your head gently against the table. “And for her, you called it her fairy cave?” This time, your friend didn't wince; no, the bastard chuckled.

“This isn't funny, Nanami!”

“I know,” he took another sip, “look, it's not bad; I just think if you're going to write a sex scene, you need to refer to the genitals as genitals and not lunch meat and damp mystical caves.”

“L-Like use the word penis?”

“Or cock, dick, not meat stick.”

“Shh!!” you reached over the table, covering his mouth with your hands. “We're out in public!!”

Nanami pulled back away from your hands. “Oh please, we know Gojo and Sukuna. They are more foul than that.” He had a point; the two could make grandmothers cry with their colorful vocabulary.

The first half of your novel was easy to write—lots of action, passionate kisses, and dialogue. The middle had hit you with a brick of writer's block. This was your first time writing anything remotely spicy other than making out with tongue. The scene you were stuck on right now wasn’t even a full-on sex scene! That made it so much worse! They were pleasing each other in a tent with just their hands! It's a simple mutual masturbation scene.

But using a meat stick and a fairy cave would not cut it. And the next couple of chapters were due to your agent in a week. If Nanami pretty much flat-out told you these scenes sucked, there was no way in hell you would be turning this in to your agent.

“Fuck, Nanami, what am I going to do?”

“Scrape it and rewrite it.” Feeling your gaze on his, Nanami breathed out a breathy huff. “Look, it's not terrible, trust me; I know you're capable of more.” Your trusted friend chuckled as you puffed out your cheeks.

“Oh yeah, scrape it; maybe I'll use a hot dog instead of a meat stick this time.” What were you going to do?! There was a week to turn the poorly excused terrible smut you'd written into something that would please Nanami, your agent, and the publisher.

Nanami patted your shoulder as he collected his stuff. “You know, sometimes our own experiences can help.” Great, now you were frustrated and a blushing mess!

“I-I can't do that!”

“Well, then read some erotic novels for inspiration if you have any questions if you don't want to use your personal sexual experiences.”

“That’s not what I me—”

“Look, let's meet on Tuesday for lunch, and you can show me what you have then. I gotta run to class; I’ll see you then.”

With a heavy heart, you watched your friend rush out of the café and return to Campus. Nanami was full of good ideas. Using one's own experiences was a good muse. It was something you would do if you had any experience. The number one reason you had so many issues writing smut seems like this was because you were a complete and total virgin.

That was the sole reason why writing sex scenes was your kryptonite. Because you had zero experience, writing about something you had no experience in was hard. So Nanami’s advice, while appreciated, was utterly useless. You had no experience, and there was no way you were hooking up with some random person to inspire you.

Oh well, you had a lovely long week to try and fix the monstrosity you had created. It wasn't like your agent would call you out of the blue! Yeah, you had a week! A week! It was all good!

A bag slammed on the table as you packed your laptop and notepad. With a squeak and a jump, you turned to see your agent staring down at you—a look of dismay and stress plastered over her face.

“U-Utahime?” Her expression remained the same as she adjusted her baseball hat. “H-Hi, what's up?”

“Meat stick?”

“Fuuuck.” you cried out, throwing your head back.

“I come in to give you good news, and I hear that Nanami is saying you're struggling with the sex scenes?” She sips her coffee anxiously, her foot tapping against the tile floor. “You told me it was a romance? And you can't write sex scenes?!”

You hushed her, standing up and putting your index finger against your lips. “Shut up! Please! I'm working on it; I'm just struggling!” Utahime laughs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I'll fix it! I promise you’ll have a super spicy mutual touching session by next week!” she gives you a skeptical look, one you're pretty sure was on your face as well. “B-But what good news do you have?” Your agent and friend relaxes as she grins.

“You know that cottage that you saw online? The one in Europe that inspired your book?”

“The one that I can't find? Yeah, I know it.”

When you graduated high school, you and Suguru had stopped at a bookstore while shopping for supplies. You were grazing through pictures of European castles when you saw this darling little cottage. It looked similar to the cottage in Sleeping Beauty. It was made of stone in the woods beside a river where a water mill ran.

The cottage was gorgeous; it got your creative juices flowing. You imagined characters living there, and it was honestly the inspiration for your book. You desperately searched for it. Wanting to learn more about the cottage that had inspired your fantasy world, you couldn't find a lick of evidence. You had been under the assumption that it was either destroyed or didn't even exist. So you had given up on finding it two years ago.

“Well, your lovely agent made a few calls and sent out some photos, and she found it.”

“Shut up bitch.” Utahime just smirked, pulling out her phone. “Oh my god, oh god! Are you serious?!” Her phone slid across the table, the screen illuminated by the cottage that inspired your novel. “Ahh! Oh my god!”

“I also got in touch with the owners of the cottage. And when I told them a best-selling novelist was in love with their cottage, which they just so happen to rent out, they offered for you to stay there.”

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!”

“Maybe staying here will get your creativity flowing! Help you with the next few novels.”

Your body was vibrating in excitement. “Oh my god, yes! A week here would be great!” A low ‘uhm’ from across from you drew your attention from the phone to your agent. “Or a weekend?” she shook her head.

“They offered it to you for longer than that.”

“Seriously? How long are we talking?”

Utahime’s smile was wide and warm. “You’re gonna need a few bags.”

The second you left the coffee shop with a coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other, you bolted down the street. Your meeting with Utahime went so well! You couldn’t wait to tell Suguru all about it. By the time you reached the apartment complex and his door on the third floor, you were panting.

Glancing at the handle, you luckily didn’t find a tie on it, meaning he didn’t bring home some chick, so it was safe for you to come in if you wanted. He did that for you after you walked in on him eating some bimbo out on the kitchen counter. Knowing it was safe, you unlocked the door with your spare key and headed inside.

The smell of paint was strong, meaning Suguru was in the zone and probably had been for hours. Meaning he hadn’t eaten. He was so lucky to have you as his best friend in the whole world, or the man would have starved.

“Suguru~!” Stepping through the apartment, you followed the sound of alternative music toward the spare room, which he’d turned into his makeshift studio. Stepping inside, you didn't find him, but his easel had a new canvas.

Quickly rushing forward, you stared at it, and your heart sank. Suguru had sketched out an aquarium, the base colors down, and a girl stood in front of the tank. The colors hadn’t been placed on her, but you knew who she was from the ruffled sun dress she wore to the braid that cascaded down her back.

“Riko.” Her name tore at your heart as you reached out to touch the sketch of the girl who had been taken far too soon.

Before you could touch the canvas, a creaking floorboard had you pulling away, rushing far for the easel. Your best friend walked in, a fresh mug of water in his hand, while he scrolled through his phone in the other.

God, how he had changed in the fifteen years you’d been together. His hair was longer, pulled in a bun; his bangs hung in his face. Suguru’s left arm was inked with a dragon; it swirled around the head of it tattooed on his shoulder. His lip was pierced along with the cartridge of his ears, and he was wearing his black gauges. That boy you met in class was now a man who was shirtless and covered in paint.

Suguru finally looked up; seeing you standing there startled him, causing him to spill water on the floor. “Fuckin’ hell!” He yelled, putting the mug down to grab the edge of his tables covered with tubes of paint. “You little fuckin’ shit.” His words held no heat as you placed his food and coffee down.

“Oh please, you’d starve without me. I tried calling you when I came in.”

“I was in the kitchen.”

“No, you weren’t.” You sat on the table inches from where Suguru stood. “I walked through there; you sneaking a girl down the fire escape? Not wanting me to catch you doing something indecent again?”

There was always a playful, teasing tone between the two of you. Especially now that you were older and he was a man whore. His dark eyes narrowed as he grinned, slotting between your legs as he sipped coffee.

His eyes trailed over you. “Why would you be jealous if I was?” You shook your head as he pushed your hair back. “Damn, I was just talking to Satoru.” Suguru rolled his eyes as you whistled. “You would like.” He ruffled the top of your head.

“Nah~ I’ve seen you go down on a girl.” He opened his mouth again. “And no, I’m not jealous; I just don’t wanna see you going at it.”

“Yeah, he said we’re all going out tonight; something about that sushi train place.” He pulled out the sandwich you brought him, taking a bite. “Said we had to celebrate.”

“Oh, we do.” Suguru swallowed the mouthful of food. “Because I got some great news today.”

“Really? Did Nanami like your new pages?” He stepped away, grabbing the mug of clean water as he stepped back in front of the canvas.

“Well, no, but that’s a whole other situation.” The excitement buzzing in your chest could no longer be held in. “Utahime found the cottage!”

Suguru perked up, knowing exactly what you were talking about. “Shut the fuck up, she did, where?!” He’d helped you search for your inspiration for hours; he knew how badly you wanted to go there.

“It’s in a wooded area in England. Super pretty! The owners have read my book and offered to let me stay there!”

“Well, that’s gre—”

“For the next two years!!”

Glass shattered, leaving both you and Suguru in stunned silence. Your best friend was pale, the color leaving his cheeks. His eyes were distant as you looked down, seeing the water spreading over the floorboard, sliding under Suguru’s bare feet.

You were the first to move, not to pick up the glass but to grab Suguru’s face gently. He was as still as a rock; he only got like that when he had flashbacks to that night. Seeing that he was painting Riko must have meant he was stuck in that moment from your second year of high school.

He shut his eyes tight, leaning into your touch, cluing you in. It wasn’t a flashback. He took a deep breath before lifting you, putting you off to the side, away from the glass. Something wasn’t right with Suguru; you knew it from his lingering touch and the lack of light in his eyes.

“What time did you get up?” You asked as you bent down, helping him pick up shards of glass.

“Are you going to leave?”

“I asked you a question first. What time did you get up?”

“Three this morning. Are you leaving?”

Peering up, you found his eyes focused solely on you. “I’m uhm—I’m waiting for Utahime to contact the owners.” He gritted his teeth, his eyes returning to the glass on the floor. “It’s not set in stone yet, Suguru.” You gently nudged his hand with yours; those words had him relaxing a bit, like relief was washing over him. “Why were you up at three?” He stood up, tossing the broken glass in the trash.

“Nightmares.”

“About Riko?”

Riko Amanai was a person Suguru didn’t like talking about. He went to therapy for what happened, but her death left a mark on him that probably would never heal. He had his good months and his bad months. Between the canvas and the nightmares, you knew he was going to have a hard time this month.

You didn’t push him; you hated to pry that part of his life. That didn’t mean you weren’t there for him, though. If he wanted to talk to you, your door was always open. There had been many nights when he would show up and ask to stay in bed with you. Those were the nights when nightmares were too much to handle when he had too much on his mind. Those were the nights you both stayed up, talking about life, your novel, or his work. They were also the nights you both fell asleep in each other‘s arms and got some of the best sleep of your lives.

“Suguru—?”

“I’m going to grab the broom. Just stay here.” Suguru grabs a white sheet and covers his newest canvas up before heading out of his room towards the kitchen.

Great, you just had to go prying into his trauma. What the hell is wrong with you? He would’ve talked about it with you if he wanted to talk about it. It was wrong to dig into what was happening in his mind. You worried so much about him, and sometimes you forgot you had no right to question him.

Despite your prying and prodding questions, Suguru was still warm to you. He wrapped an arm around you and plopped down on the couch with you while he finished eating breakfast and drinking coffee. He showed you some of the paints he wanted to get the next time he dragged you to the art store. Suguru acted like everything was normal when you both knew it wasn’t.

He was masking; he often did when he didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his mind. Or when he didn’t want to worry you. You could easily see through his façade, but you weren’t about to ruin the rest of his day with your questions. You lay there on the couch with him, listening to him talk about his paints and the commissions that he had received.

The mundane conversations lasted until four o’clock. The two of you freshened up before heading downtown to meet your other friends for your not-so-celebratory dinner. Satoru had invited almost everyone you knew. Nanami, Shoko, Sukuna, Haibara, and Yuki cheered when you two entered.

You were pulled towards the bar by Shoko and Yuki, who squealed over how lucky you were to have found your cottage. Suguru snatched a beer from the bucket on the table, chugging it as he sat beside Satoru. The white-haired man hissed out a sigh, his arm wrapping over Suguru’s shoulder as the two watched you closely.

“I can’t believe they offered her to stay there for two years.” Satoru purred out. “Like fuck, it’ll be weird not having her here.”

“Please shut the fuck up.”

Satoru pulled his dark sunglasses off, glaring at his best friend. “Who pissed in your cereal?” He paused, pursing his lips together. “Oh right, the girl you love is leaving you. I have an idea; tell her how you feel!” A handful of gyoza is shoved into Satoru’s mouth.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Nanami glanced at the two before him, gulping down his beer. “If I tell her, it’ll be like I’m holding her back. I can’t do that.” As he steals another glance at you, confusion, doubt, and anxiety settle in Suguru’s stomach. “If she wants to go, she can go.”

Thankfully, after his little rant, the conversation drifted from you and focused on school. The whole night, no one brought up the cottage, nor you leaving yet. As you assure them, nothing is set in stone yet, but finding out where your inspiration was was enough to drink to.

The happiness that seemed to radiate off you made Suguru feel bittersweet over the whole situation. He was happy for you. He knew how much finding that cottage. He spent his free time looking into it for you. But he could never find anything. He desperately didn’t want to go either. You were his best friend. You had been for fifteen years, and he was utterly in love with you, but he didn’t want to cross that line.

Now that there was a possibility that you would be leaving, he regretted all the chances he had to cross that line, and he never took it. That’s why he slept with so many girls who shared attributes similar to yours. Some of them had your eyes, others had your hair color, and there were just some of them that looked similar to you. It was a way to cope with being unable to tell you how he felt. But at least he didn’t ruin your friendship.

Between the lack of sleep and the new fear of losing you, Suguru needed something more potent than beer. He shimmed over to the bar, ruffling your hair as he passed you. As he leaned over the bar, waiting for his drink, Nanami squeezed in next to him.

“I think I know why she might be leaving.”

“Huh?” Suguru’s pierced brow lifted in confusion. “Why would there be a reason for her to leave? She’s always wanted to go to that cottage.”

“She offered to stay there to help with her writing. I may have called Utahime and given her a heads up about the pages I read today.” Nanami sipped his drink. “We both agreed that change of scenery might help with her writing.”

“The fuck do you mean?” A twinge of anger flashed over Suguru’s face. “Her writing is the best. There’s nothing for her to work on. She got published, for God's sake.”

Nanami chuckled nervously. “There’s no doubt that she’s a talented writer. While her dialogue and kissing scenes and her world-building are superior to other authors, I’ve read for. Her romance scenes are atrocious.” When Nanami saw the look of bewilderment on Suguru’s face, he nodded. “By romance, I mean sex scenes.”

“Well, she’s never had a boyfriend; I don’t think she’s even kissed someone.” Nanami makes a humming sound of understanding as a revelation overcomes Suguru. “Do you think if her sex scenes get better, she might now want to leave for as long as she said?”

“Maybe. But it’ll take a miracle for her sex scenes to improve.”

A miracle that Suguru was willing to provide. If he could help you, maybe, just maybe, you might consider staying if you’re given a chance to leave. And if he’s lucky, perhaps he would finally find the strength to tell you how he felt. Downing his drink, he rushed back to the table, grabbing your hand.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Your eyes glitter, making Suguru’s heart thunder. “Sure!” He drags you through the crowded restaurant, pulling you outside towards the alley. “What’s up?” God, you look so pretty with flushed cheeks.

“Nanami told me about the sex scenes”

“That traitor!” You pout, tilting your head back with a grumble. “Fine, go ahead and make fun of my usage of deli meat for describing genitalia.” The teasing never comes. Instead, Suguru's musky, earthy smell crowds you as he slams his hands on either side of your head. “S-Sugu?”

“I have a proposition.” His voice purrs out, making your heart race spike. “You’re struggling with the sex scenes. That’s why you’re thinking of leaving, right?”

“Y-yeah, and?”

“What if I help you? If your sex scenes get better, do you think you might not need to leave for two years?”

Heat begins to fill the tiny space between your bodies. You feel your exhaled air mingling with the others. Fuck was it the alcohol?

“I-I mean, maybe I wouldn’t need to leave for so long. Maybe just a week.” There’s a gleam in your best friend's eyes. “But how are you going to help me?” His mouth inches closer, and you can feel the heat as he leaves an inch away from your lips.

“I can teach you.”

(TBC)

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe

[essentiallyleaf]

day 18. feeding. with. chaehyun.

1055 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, feeding kink, fingering, squirting, is this entire thing just extremely stupid and opposite-of-hot?, true story (well, part of this is. yeah, it’s the part where i make chaehyun squirt on her sheets).

notes.

sequel to day 06. dacryphilia. or, it’s in the same universe, the timing is kinda fucked. episodically, leaf.

“You know, this one time, I was a kid, like first, second grade? Or was it kindergarten? I was eating cherries, and I tried to swallow two at once. Don’t ask me why, maybe my dad told me not to, and at that point I had no choice. Anyway they got stuck in my throat,” you start laughing as you tell the story, the incident reminding you of two old men fighting for the same parking spot. “And they had to grab my ankles and put me upside down, and then press on my stomach to make me spit them out. It was horrible. Actually, it might have been just fine, I don’t remember much. But I remember my parents like, freaked out. What a great way to go, that would’ve been”

“Well, nice to know stupid guys were also stupid when they were children. People never change.” She teases while giggling, her eyes shine when she does. “What do you make of that story?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m too impatient. Or maybe too greedy.” You get thoughtful for a second.

“Should have stored the others in your cheeks while one was going down, or something”

“Yeah, what do they call that? Chubby bunny?”

“You know, that’s what they used to call me, in middle school.” She mentions in a slightly somber tone.

“A chubby bunny? That’s so rude and insensitive!” You say with an appalled look.

“Right?”

“Yeah, you look nothing like a bunny!” You banter back.

“Oh, fuck off!” She laughs off as she pushes your shoulder lightly.

You both take a sip of somaek. You grab one of the strawberries from the bowl on the table and take a bite. As you raise your eyes up again, she’s staring at the fruit like it’s the most interesting thing in the world - like a fine piece of precision engineering, or a perfectly symmetric snowflake, or whatever the hell this girl is interested in, it’s the first time the two of you are exchanging more than six words at a time - or maybe she’s just lost in thought. Conversely, it’s the complete lack of thoughts in your head that makes you bring the remaining half of the strawberry to her mouth in a slow movement. She bites, her lips making slight contact with your fingers. As she chews on it, both of you keeping eye contact, some strawberry juice escapes her lips; she rubs her hands on them to clean it up. When she’s done eating, the same lack of thoughts pushes your head forward and your lips on hers. Your tongue brushes on her sweet fruity lips, and you realize some leftover strawberry juices must have still been there, then her own tongue comes out to meet yours, and they entangle for some time before the two of you need to catch your breaths.

“I think you were being greedy.” She stares into your irises like she sees your past in them.

“Hm?”

“Back then, the two cherries thing”

“What makes you think that?”

“I told you, people never change.” She takes the somaek cup back in her hand.

“You’re saying I’m a greedy person now?”

“I’m saying, me and Jimin unnie”

“She has no problems with this. We talked about it-”

“I never said that.” She asserts calmly.

“Well, do you have any-”

“I never said that, either. I’m just saying, you’re greedy.” She observes with a subtly cheeky tone.

“Hm. You know what would be greedy?” You can only give her a taste of her own medicine. “If I asked you not only go to your room, but also to take on a little challenge for me”

-

Chaehyun is laying on her back, her denim skirt and pink panties at the foot of her bed, and you on top, middle finger hovering over her thick, slick outer lips.

“You don’t need to say it everytime, just keep them in your cheeks, you can eat them at the end”

“What if I- Mmmmhhh, wanna eat them right away?” She can already barely keep it together.

“Hm, who’s the impatient one now?”

Grab a small strawberry with your unoccupied hand and put it on top of her lips, rub it around them for a little while, then tell her: “Open up”, and place it on her tongue. She doesn’t store it away, just starts chewing while moaning with her eyes closed. You’re not even mad, or surprised, the view is too hot for either. You simply insert your middle finger into her wet hole as a response, making her whining even louder.

“Mmmmmhh- ore, please”

Not sure if she means strawberries or fingers, so you give her both. A red pearl in her mouth, a second digit in her slit, now scissoring and stretching her walls apart. You need to kiss her to suppress her moans, or maybe you need to kiss her because you need to kiss her, and when you do she ends up slightly biting your lower lip, maybe thinking you’re hers to eat, too. Your fingers switch to pumping in and out of her now, and they do so with ease, her wetness telling you all you need to know, as if the sinful melodic sounds coming from her mouth weren’t enough already. So grab one last strawberry from the bowl and drop it into her awaiting cavern, as she immediately starts greedily chewing on it, her moans not stopping despite that. Place your thumb on her clit and flick it ferociously, trying to get her to her peak.

“Yes, yes! I’m gonna…”

Chaehyun bucks her hips up several times as powerful squirts hit your hand and forearm as well as her bed, a couple screams leaving her powerful vocal chords. You keep thrusting your fingers at gradually decreasing speed to help her ride her orgasm out, your other hand finding itself fondling her soft boobs through her top. You bend your head down to kiss her once again as you slowly retreat your digits from her still contracting walls, then your lips make way for your fingers in her mouth as Chaehyun tastes herself, sucking and licking her juices off of you.

“How’s the taste, tiger?”

“What?” “I asked-” “No, what did you call me?”

“That’s what you are. You’re not a bunny, you’re a white tiger”

-

footnotes.

baekho chaehyun > tokki chaehyun. sorryidontmaketherulesly, leaf.

[devanofficial]

childhood friendships be like, we played pretend everyday in kindergarten, we were mermaid dogs and potion makers and astronaut fairies, you gave me a strange look when i made up an underwater unicorn scenario in middle school, you bit my arm once in elementary school because you didn’t want to share the pirate ship wheel on the playground anymore, i still tell that story because i have a scar from your tooth, we did ballet and tap together but then went to different dance schools and it wasn’t the same, i quit after it messed up my ankles but i still kept your nutcracker christmas cards throughout high school and imagined us dancing together, we watched cinderella iii on dvd together and talked about how much better the prince was in the sequels, that was the last time i went over your house and i wish i had known that then, later i heard you talking about how weird i was to people i thought you didn’t like, you repeated things i said as examples but they had made you fall off the bed with laughter back then, i don’t understand when you outgrew me but i thought we had been girls together.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

S.R. Series Recs (Completed Works)

Hey friends! I’m back with another fic rec list for Completed Series! If you have any other recommendations not included here (including your own work), please send me a DM! I would love to add it.

SFW S.R. Series

Valkyrie by @illegalcerebral: Unsub!Reader. You live two lives, one where you protect and serve and one where you hunt. You have always had control over the two sides until the BAU are brought to your doorstep.

Shifting Narrative by @/illegalcerebral: The BAU are called in on a case. Complicating matters is a tenacious filmmaker making a documentary on the case and Reid’s residual emotional trauma from being in prison.

Flight Risk by @brywrites: In which a pilot and a profiler become closer than originally planned when Reid finally meets one of the elusive individuals flying the BAU jet.

NSFW Series Below...

NSFW S.R. Series

Here to Misbehave by me: Spencer meets a girl he can’t get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.

Phoenix by me: Spencer Reid had a secret, and now you have a funeral to attend… and your own secret to keep. Or not. Rewrite of the Emily/Doyle arc with Spencer taking Emily’s place.

Lily of the Valley by me: Unsub!Reid. Spencer was found guilty but mentally ill after the torture and murder of several men. He finds solace in his psychiatrist at the institution.

26 Things by @foxy-eva: Spencer Reid is determined to help his girlfriend check off everything left on her bucket list - even the explicit parts.

Pretty Please by @mercy-burning: Reader hears something surprising from her next door neighbor, and it throws her off.

January 16 by @aperrywilliams: Reader and Spencer Reid share the most intimate part of their lives through the years around a fateful date.

Virginia Kisses by @twentysomethingloser92: Every single time Spencer and Reader kiss.

The Most Natural Thing in the World by @dontshootmespence: An experienced Dom and a Virgin meet in a bar. Can he introduce her to a world she’s always imagined but never known before? Sequel.

Lock and Key by @/brywrites: Prison is a tough place to find hope in. But when Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class, the teacher makes him think it might not be so hopeless after all.

Say Something by @fortheloveofwonderland: In which Spencer and Reader are in a toxic relationship trying to navigate through the intrepid waters of love in a depressive state.

Losing So Much Time by @/fortheloveofwonderland: Fifteen years is a long time to be in love with someone you only see once a year. But when you live on opposite ends of the country and once a year is all you get you just have to try and make the most of the time you get.

Teach Me Something by @homoose: Spencer meets Michael’s kindergarten teacher and finds he still has so much left to learn.

Thanks, everyone! Happy Reading!

[janeyseymour]

At Arm's Length pt 2

A requested sequel, although this could *probably* be read on its own.

Part 1

WC: ~3k

Melissa Schemmenti was fond of exactly five people at her place of work- six if you counted the strange dynamic she had with the principal of the school. She cared about her beloved work wife Barbara, her three work children, and... and somehow you had wormed your way into her little group, all over a spilled cup of coffee (or two, but who’s counting?). But it wasn’t in the way that she cared for the kindergarten teacher, and it wasn’t in the way that you felt she had a protective maternal feeling for you. It was different. Not bad, but certainly different from the rest. 

Friday night was a nice night with the redheaded teacher. She had wined and dined you, and if you were being honest, it was the best meal of your life. Growing up in center city Philadelphia, you didn’t much have the luxury of decadent food- and you sure as hell know you were lucky to have feasted on her cooking for even just one night. It definitely beat the meals you grew up eating, and there was no contest to be had in the sorry excuses for meals you could ‘cook’ for yourself with the little ingredients you had laying around your half decorated apartment. You’re not sure you would ever be able to afford to cook the way she does. You would need... years of cooking lessons.

You leave her place on a high- full from the delicious food, a little warm from the bottle of wine you had shared, and on cloud nine at the knowledge that the Melissa Schemmenti didn’t hate you in the slightest.

“So, you think I still hate ya?” the second grade teacher playfully pokes at you as you reach for the door.

“I-” you turn red.

“I don’t,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Now get home safe, and let me know when you get home, yeah?”

You nod with a smile and yet another thank you as you quietly raise the tupperware container filled with leftovers. You leave a moment later, not realizing that she watches you the entire way to your car, making sure you get there safely. She has a bat in hand, ready to pulverize anybody who thinks they can mess with you or try to rob you of her delicious cooking.

When you relay to her that you made it home, she texts back, You’re in your apartment?

I’m in my complex, you reply, not quite ready to go into your apartment that doesn’t quite feel like a home.

Not good enough. Let me know when you’re in- door locked and everything.

When you do, she types back, Good. Don’t miss me too much.

And god, you don’t even know what to make of that text. 

Monday morning comes just a bit too early for you. You wake up just a little too late to brew coffee at home, and you sigh. You were hoping to be at least somewhat caffeinated for the beginning of the week. Grabbing your ‘bland ass salad’ and the now empty and clean tupperware container gifted to you by a certain coworker, you get in your car and head to school.

For the first time upon entering the school, you don’t feel the need to peek into the break room before entering. You aren’t afraid to see that redheaded second grade teacher you used to nearly cower at. You just walk in, a smile on your face as you see the usual crew gathering around the television to watch the news. Everybody but Melissa turns to give you a silent wave before turning back around to the screen. You quietly place your lunch in the fridge, noting you won’t have to move anybody else’s food before making your way over to the coffee machine silently.

“Didn’t make any coffee this morning? Afraid you’d spill it all over ya again?” The redhead asks, eyes still glued to the screen. There’s a hint of mischief in her voice. You turn, not realizing that she even knew you were in the room. You shake your head silently, not wanting to interrupt the broadcast. You remembered what happened the last time you did that. You do not want a repeat of that event. “There’s some in the mug. I made it not five minutes ago. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Thanks,” you say shyly as you let the steam rise in your face. It just happens to be a coincidence that you both like your coffee the same way- no need to fix it at all. You go to leave the room, only to hear that low voice again.

“Come watch the news with us, smalls.” This was the second time the woman had spoken over Jim Gardner to talk to you. 

Not wanting to be back on Melissa’s bad side, you quietly make your way over and take a place next to her and Barb. Slyly, you hand her tupperware back to her. She takes it with a smile and a small nudge to your ribs. Barb glances over, her eyebrow raising just a fraction of an inch, before directing her attention back to the news anchor they all loved. 

When the news is over, Janine turns to you with a grin. “So... how was your weekend? Gregory and I missed you at Bone- the restaurant on Friday.”

“It was nice,” you say quietly. “Lowkey. I needed a quiet weekend after last week.” You unconsciously shift a bit closer to Melissa.

If Barbara notices the way your cheeks tint red or your subtle shift, she doesn’t mention it. She just looks at you with a smile. “I’m glad you had a nice weekend, Y/N. Are you ready for this week?”

“Now that I have some coffee,” you chuckle. “Alright, I have to reply to a few emails I got over the weekend, but I’ll see you all arou-”

“You better have lunch with us,” Melissa cuts you off. All eyes turn to her. “I mean... c’mon, hon. You’re one of us now.”

“I- I am?” you look around the group. Janine and Jacob are all grins and giving you thumbs up. Gregory is as unreadable as ever. Barbara has a knowing look on her face. And Melissa is looking at you like you’re an idiot. 

“You think I’d give my Eagles shirt to just anyone? Or let anyone touch my coffee?” she rolls her eyes. “Yeah. You’re with us now. Don’t be dumb.”

You just barely let yourself smile, afraid of overreacting with the grin you want to let wash over your face. “Y-yeah. Okay. Yeah. I’ll- I’ll see you at lunch.”

As you leave, you hear Janine ask, “Hey, Melissa, where’d that tupperware come from?”

“Who’s askin’?” You hear her gravelly voice ask, and you can practically hear her staring down the shorter teacher. “Why you gotta know?”

You smile into the mug as you continue on down the hall. 

Come lunch time, you’re almost excited to join the group again- even if it means Melissa will make fun of your lunch again. But then Zion didn’t have lunch again- just an empty lunch box-, and you have to go through the charade of making sure the lunch ladies made extra so he could have lunch without taking someone else’s. And by the time all of that is over, you only have twelve minutes left to try to enjoy your lunch before having to head outside for your dreaded recess duty. 

You hear their conversation before they know you’re outside the door.

“Oh come on, Melissa,” Jacob laughs nervously. “You and I both know that your attitude towards her didn’t just flip overnight.”

“Well, we did have the weekend,” she bites back, and you can practically see the smirk on her face. 

“You know what I mean!” he argues. “You hated her on Thursday, and now you’re inviting her to sit with you and Barb at lunch? You even have her salad ready for her?”

You silently pray the kindergarten teacher won’t let slip that you had gone over to Melissa’s for dinner on Friday. She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

“Yeah, and if she doesn’t come down and eat it before lunch is over, I’m gonna go down to her room and shove it down her-”

You push the door open gently.

“There y’are,” the redhead says as she kicks out the seat next to her. “Where ya been?”

You sigh softly as you sit down next to her. “Making sure all my kids had a lunch to eat... Zion’s mom forgot to pack his lunch- again.” 

Barbara gives a sad shake of the head. “She’s been doing that since I had him in Kindergarten. Next time, tell the lunch ladies to put it on my account.”

“N-no, I just paid for it,” you say quietly as you glance at your salad on the table. You don’t make any moves to eat it. “I have been. He needs to eat.”

“And so do you,” Melissa says pointedly as she juts her chin out towards your container.

“I’m not that hungry, and I won’t have time to finish it,” you mumble. You won’t admit that you’re craving her pasta, and you know your salad just won’t do the trick. “I have recess duty in-” you glance at your watch. “Seven minutes.”

You see the gears turning in the second grade teacher’s head. “Gimme a minute.” She stands from her place and heads out the door. You all hear the way her boots hit the tile as she makes her way down the hall.

You fiddle with your thumbs, just trying to pass the last few minutes of your lunch, when you feel like you’re being stared at. You look up. You are being stared at. 

“What?” You ask, suddenly self-conscious of your appearance. You glance at Barb who has a knowing smile but again chooses to stay silent.

“You know Melissa is about to get you out of recess duty, right?” Janine asks.

Your brows knit in confusion, but before you can say anything, the woman in question struts in proudly.

“I got someone to cover your duty. Now eat,” she says pointedly as she heads for the coffee machine.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say shyly. “But thank you.”

“You’ve never done that for me before,” Jacob pouts, clearly a little jealous of this strange soft spot Melissa has developed for you.

“Me either,” Janine pipes up. “Even after-”

“Or me,” Gregory speaks from next to Janine.

“Well, youse usually eat your lunch. We can’t have newbie going down like Janine did that day we had the power go out,” Melissa laughs it off. She looks in your direction again. “Dammit, Y/N. Eat your lunch, or I’ll have to make a ziti for naught.”

Sheepishly, you open your lunch and begin to eat slowly. “Thanks,” you say quietly as you cover your full mouth with your hand.

“Eh, don’t mention it.” She smiles proudly as she fixes two cups of coffee. She sets one down in front of you.

When you look at her curiously, she rolls her eyes. “Y’look like you need it. ‘N apparently, I know how you like it.” She winks at you jokingly.

You nearly choke on your lunch at her dirty innuendo.

“Finish up,” she sighs as she pushes her chair back into place. “I gotta go grab my little eagles and pray to God Aiden didn’t try to beat up on Omari again. I don't think I can handle another call home with that one.” 

Slowly, the rest of the crew trickles out of the lunch room to get back to their students, and you’re left in peace to finish your lunch and coffee. You can't help the dorky grin that washes over your face as you head down the hall to pick up your kids and can hear her praising her students’ reading stamina.

The rest of the day is better- it isn’t a total drag. The rest of the week pretty much follows the same routine- Melissa makes you a cup of coffee in the morning even though you walk in with one- it gets thrown out so you can enjoy hers, you make sure your students are all being adequately fed, and you head down for your lunch with the group you’ve suddenly found yourself a part of.

On Thursday, you can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness knowing Melissa will be outside at recess and not sitting next to you to make fun of your lunch and the fact that your hair is still perfectly in place.

“Hey,” you greet the group, sans Melissa, as you head for the fridge for your lunch.

“It’s already out,” Barb chuckles and points to your newly designated spot. Glancing over, you see that your salad, a fork, and a freshly made cup of steaming hot coffee are waiting for you.

“Oh,” you blush as you make your way over. “Thanks.”

“Wasn’t me, dear,” the kindergarten teacher says knowingly. She looks around to make sure everyone else is in their own conversation before she’s leaning in and whispering, “It was that redhead that you suddenly have wrapped around your finger.”

Your blush only gets deeper, and you attempt to hide it behind a quick bite of food.

“She said somethin’ about how you’ll ‘make it up to her later’?” Barb questions quietly. “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?”

Your eyes go wide, and you shake your head. “I told her this morning I would help her with her bulletin board after school today, that’s all.”

She gives a low, “Mhmm,” before going back to her own lunch. 

“I’m serious!” You laugh nervously. “I told her I would help her revamp her bulletin board!”

“Alright, sweetheart,” the veteran educator laughs. “I believe you.”

Lunch almost drags by without that loud laugh you love to hear when you accidentally mumble something under your breath and Melissa hears it. 

Come the end of the day, you walk down the hall to go assist Melissa with her decorating. She’s standing there, as if she’s already been waiting for an hour.

“C’mon, kid,” she laughs as you saunter down. “I’m not gettin’ any younger over here.”

You pick up the pace with a chuckle and look over her materials. It definitely has potential, and you can’t deny the projects she’s choosing to showcase from her class are adorable.

She lets you take almost full control over her board, noting how your tongue just barely pokes out of the side of your mouth as you mount the background.

“What?” You nearly let a giggle slip. “I don’t want your background to have any wrinkles!”

“And I appreciate it, hon,” she laughs as she takes you in. “Where’d y’learn to decorate like this?”

You shrug. “I’ve always liked doin’ it, and seeing the kids’ smiles when they see their work on a nice board- it feels good.”

When it’s finished, you take a step back with a grin. Your neat hair is now tied up in one of the messiest buns she’s seen, and your shirt actually has wrinkles in it from the odd positions you had put your body in to ensure that her board was perfect. But in that moment, Melissa realizes, she’s smitten for you. She has no idea why she ever thought she could hate you- she had her eyes on you from the very beginning. 

“I think that looks good enough,” you say humbly, but the dopey smile on your face tells her how proud you are of this.

“It looks perfect, hon,” she lays a gentle hand on your arm, giving it a squeeze.

Only then do you turn a deep shade of red.

“You blush a lot,” she notes as she takes the stapler out of your hand and sets it down. She doesn’t make any further moves away from you. You feel your ears starting to burn.

Nervously, you tuck a loose hair behind your ear. She’s close enough that you can really take in those sparkling green eyes of hers, and she’s yet to take her hand off your arm. You hope she can’t feel your heart practically beating out of your chest.

“Don’t worry,” she laughs quietly. “It’s cute.”

You don't quite know how to respond, but you can tell that she’s starting to lean in. Just a little more, and she would be-

“The hell are you two still doin’ here?” Mr. Johnson yells from the other side of the hallway, dragging the mop bucket behind him. Thankfully, you think, he’s too far away to realize the compromising position the two of you are in. “Get outta here so I can lock up!” 

Begrudgingly, you pull away from her close proximity to call out to him, “Sorry, Mr. J! We were just workin’ on the bulletin board outside of Melissa’s room! We’ll be out in a few minutes!”

He huffs loudly enough for you to hear it, and you turn back to the redhead. “I guess that’s our cue to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Or... you could come over for dinner again?”

“You already made me dinner in exchange for the-”

“Not as a transaction, ya goof. As a-” she bites her lip and takes a deep breath. “As a date.”

“R-really?” You ask shyly.

“Yeah, hon. As a date.”

“I- I’d like that.” You grin. “I’ve been craving your pasta since last Sunday when I ran out.”

“Then that’s what I’ll make. Hell, I might even let you attempt to make it with me,” she teases you.

“I’ll grab the wine and be over,” you grin.

As you leave, you feel Melissa’s hand on your back to guide you out. Neither of you have a clue that Mr. Johnson is watching with a small smile on his face. He knew exactly what was going down. Those halls told many stories, and somehow, Mr. Johnson was always a part of those stories- even if no one knew it. 

Next

[calaisreno]

Three Women Perplex the British Government

1362 words / Prompt: Journey / A sequel to Sixth Sense. (Just in case you were wondering what Molly decided to do!)

---

He doesn’t recognise the woman standing before him. His mother trained him well, though, so he rises and gestures at the chair. 

“Please.” He glances at Anthea, who is giving him an inscrutable look from the doorway. The one that says he’s offended her in some way that she will neither admit nor explain. 

Anthea closes the door. Mycroft regards the woman, who is still standing. 

“Please,” he repeats, giving her a generic smile. 

His visitor is regarding him as well. Studying him. No smile. “I’d rather not.”

She’s a tiny woman, and he’s a tall man. If she would only sit down, he could sit as well, and it would not feel so much like he’s bullying her. That’s not his style, at least not with women. Small women, dressed in hand knit jumpers. 

He has no idea what she wants, but is afraid that some persuasion might be necessary. Not the bullying he reserves for his brother, or even the subtle manipulation he aims at John Watson, a difficult man to intimidate.

“Miss…?” He feels like he ought to know her. 

“Molly Hooper,” she says. “We haven’t met. I’m—”

“Yes, of course. Doctor Hooper. How can I help you?” He looks down at her, desperately wishing she’d take the chair. “I should thank you,” he remembers to say. “Your help was greatly appreciated. I hope my brother expressed that to you.”

“I’m here about John Watson.”

“Ah.” He narrows his eyes, anticipating the outburst of sentiment she will unleash. “I’m maintaining surveillance on him. You need not concern yourself about any retribution against him. He is safe.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, folding her arms across her chest and glaring. She’s about as intimidating as a kindergarten teacher, but she’s making him uneasy. 

He should have anticipated this. Sherlock assured him that she would play her part well, and Mycroft himself managed the business about the body. But even a goldfish might have a conscience, especially if other goldfish are asking questions.

“Are you receiving any scrutiny over your part in the plan? That can be handled.”

“No, it’s fine. What I mean is, John isn’t coping well with Sherlock’s death.”

“Ah. My brother asked you to assist him in keeping Doctor Watson in the dark, and you’re feeling guilty that you know things which he does not. I assure you that we considered all possible scenarios, and none of them involved taking Doctor Watson into our confidence.”

“Why not?”

“Doctor Watson is a soldier. He is used to death and equipped to handle grief.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she says, glaring in earnest now. “It’s been months. Have you seen him?”

“My people are keeping a weather eye on him.”

“But you haven’t called on him?”

“He would not appreciate hearing from me, Doctor Hooper. I’m afraid my concern will not help him.”

She closes her eyes briefly, shaking her head. “You made a mistake. You and Sherlock.”

“There were not many options before us.”

“Was it you or Sherlock who decided not to tell him?”

“My brother has a great deal of sentiment for Doctor Watson. I’m afraid I had to dissuade him.”

Her voice raises. “Because he loves John?”

“Doctor Watson is not…” He considers how he should word it, decides that being forthright will end this conversation sooner. “My brother’s feelings are not returned. Cannot be returned. Sherlock is gay, and Doctor Watson is not.”

“How do you know?”

“He has stated this publicly several times. Sherlock knows as well. In order to undertake the task he set for himself, it was necessary to leave him behind. I have no doubt that the doctor will meet a lovely woman and be married before long.”

“I don’t care what label you put on him. He loved Sherlock, and it’s killing him that he’s dead. He has PTSD. When they met, he was suicidal. If anything happens to him—”

“Miss Hooper. If you are considering breaking your promise, I must warn you. This matter involves branches of our government whose existence is unknown to most people. I would hate to—”

“Don’t threaten me, Mr Holmes,” she says. “At this point, what is the harm in telling him? If there are still snipers trailing after him, you haven’t done a very good job, have you? And if there aren’t any snipers, there’s no reason not to tell him.”

He has erred. This woman is no goldfish. 

And Anthea keeps asking him about Watson, suggesting that it’s time he knew. 

And then there’s this other woman. Mary Morstan, she calls herself. A complication. She vexes him. 

“Very well,” he says. “I will handle it.”

---

“Well, I’m back,” John says. 

The headstone is silent, as it should be. John Watson does not look like a man who expects an answer from a block of marble. He squares his shoulders and stands at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I’m back again,” he repeats. “I just wanted to tell you something.”

He looks uneasy, Mycroft thinks. A confession, then.

“When you died, I thought I’d never… find myself again. I wasn’t good, not for a long time. Maybe that would surprise you.” He smiles grimly. “Well, you’re beyond surprise now, so I may as well say what I didn’t say the first time I came here. No, I’m not going to ask again. I know there’s not going to be any miracle. You’re not… coming back.” 

He lowers his face into his hand. For a moment his shoulders shake. Mycroft waits.

Drawing a deep breath, he raises his head. “So, this is it. What I should have told you… when it might have made a difference. Maybe it wouldn’t have, but I wish I’d said, just in case… well. I love you. I always did.” Choking back a sob, he continues. “You didn’t do that, though. No sentiment. Caring’s not an advantage. Yeah. But I did. Love you.”

The sentiment is so thick, it’s almost nauseating. Mycroft desperately wants a cigarette. Reminding himself of what he’s here to do, he waits.

“Once, I asked you for a miracle. But there aren’t any miracles, at least not for us. And now…” John wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. “Now it’s time. I know I’ll never be over you, never forget what it was like… but I’m alive, and I think I have to do something to stay that way. Get on with it, try to have a life without you.” He clears his throat and sniffs. “I met somebody. She isn’t you, but I think you would have liked her, that she would’ve been the one who finally passed muster. I know she would’ve liked you. So, I’m giving it a go, asking her. To marry me, I mean.” 

He makes a sound that might be a laugh, or maybe a sob. “I have to try,” he says. “I wish… well, it’s no use. I love you, but you’re not here. And I just can’t be alone forever. So.” He straightens his back, nods at the black marble. “This is goodbye, Sherlock.” 

As he turns, Mycroft steps out. John’s eyes widen, then narrow with suspicion. 

“Doctor Watson,” he says. “There are several things you need to know.”

—-

When he opens the door of his office, Anthea is waiting for him.

“Well?”

“You were right.” He sighs and meets her eyes. “Good call.”

The look on her face softens into a barely-detectable smile. “I’ve taken care of the Morstan woman. Extradition is underway.”

“She was…?” 

“Yes. Different name, but she’d done several jobs for him. The Americans will be glad to have her back. She won’t be visiting us any time soon.”

He nods, suddenly weary, and sinks into his chair. Too much sentiment, too much emotion. It’s exhausting. “Now we only need to bring my brother home.”

“We’ve received word this morning that he’s on his way to to Serbia.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Intercept him. We’ll let Baynes and his team handle that. Sherlock needs to come home.”

Her smile broadens. “As you wish.”

The door closes behind her. 

“Good journey, brother,” he whispers. “No more surprises.”

---

Read / comment on AO3

[beep-beep-sunny]

It's done! I've finished My Daddy Likes Boys! I hope you like it! If people like it, I'm going to write a couple sequels in the same universe. Read here or on AO3.

Chapter 1: Two daddies?? Cool!

My daddy likes boys. I don't know why that's such a big deal. I'm not a dummy. I understand that they don't mean he likes boys just as friends like me and Hank from my class. Otherwise, mommy and daddy wouldn't have broked up. I get it. It's about in love. Like Aladdin and Jasmine. They aren't both boys, but that's okay. I'm sure there are other examples of boys I'm just not thinking of.

Mommy already sees other boys. Daddy comes to watch me when she goes on her "dates" and we watch Bluey on TV or play hungry hungry hippos. Daddy is great at games, but I'm better because I always win. Still, daddy deserves to play games with someone he can beat. Someone he can go on "dates" with. Maybe on a magic carpet. Daddy likes cars, and that's a very cool and special kinda car. I wanna ride on one. Maybe if daddy's boyfriend has a magic carpet I can ride in the backseat and fly up high. That would be cool. That would be super cool.

I started kindergarten in the Fall. I'm in Mr. Tozier's class. He wears funny, colorful shirts and does voices that make me laugh a lot. When we learned about animals he made all the sounds. My favorite was when he made the goose sound. Mr. Tozier is the coolest.

And a boy.

And daddy likes boys.

Then I had an idea. My daddy and Mr. Tozier could be in love! That's a great perfect idea. I just needed to find a way to get daddy and Mr. Tozier to talk. When they talked they would obviously instantly fall in love because they are both awesome and fun and they both love me. It would be the greatest thing to have two daddies!!

I started small. Daddy tells me every day that I'm brave and I decided to prove it. I made sure Mr. Tozier was close and I climbed up higher in the jungle gym than I had ever climbed. The other kids watched and some waved and giggled. By the time Mr. Tozier noticed how high I climbed and started running towards me, it was too late. I bent my knees like a frog. Mr. Tozier saying ribbit ribbit popping into my head as I hopped off the roof (where I definitely wasn't supposed to be) and fell hard onto the ground.

Plop

I yelled and yelled and yelled some more. How was I supposed to know it would hurt THAT much. Mr. Tozier reached me quickly with his kind blue eyes twisted up in worry. "Frankie!" He yelped. "How'd you even get up there?" He was concerned, but I couldn't help but notice he also sounded impressed. This was going perfectly according to plan even though my arm hurt a whole lot.

Mr. Tozier carried me to the nurse's office. "I'm gonna call your parents, okay? Just sit tight buddy." I made a froggy sound and his worry melted away just long enough to do an, admittedly much better, froggy sound.

He rushed out the door. Oh no. "Call my daddy!" I shouted after him, hoping it was loud enough. My voice was usually louder, but my arm hurt too much! I waited to let my tears fall down my cheeks for after Mr. Tozier left. He probably thought I was very brave. Mr. Tozier and daddy will talk about how brave I am all day long until they fall in love.

Daddy didn't come. Mr. Tozier must not have heard me. When I saw mommy come through the door with her arms stretched out like she was ready to clean my dirty cheek with her spit, I cringed a bit and then started crying. This time it wasn't from the pain. Well, it wasn't just from the pain. This was going to be harder than I thought.

Chapter 2: Frankie's Big Break

I had a lot of time to plan my next move while I was at the doctor then at home. My arm was broken and got put in a huge cast. It's so hard and heavy. I drummed on the wall with it when mommy wasn't looking, she always told me to stop even though it made the best sound.

That made me think of my next idea. I couldn't keep getting hurt and going right to the hospital. I'd be off too much school and all my bones would be in casts until I couldn't move. I can't make Mr. Tozier and my daddy fall in love like that! I need at least one limb free!

When I got back to school, all the kids wanted to talk to me and sign my cast. I noted that I'd let Hank sign it first, after I talked to Mr. Tozier. Unless Mr. Tozier wanted to sign it first. Then he could. Sorry Hank.

Mr. Tozier sat at a big desk with papers all over the top. I could just see over it. He looked down at me, looking over his big thick glasses. He must have a really hard time seeing with glasses that big. My eyes are perfect, everyone says so, but daddy probably doesn't care about perfect eyes. I tried to focus.

“Frankie?” Mr. Tozier said. “What is it?”

“Next time I get in trouble, can you call my daddy instead of my mommy?” I said. I thought if I was as obvious as possible that he would definitely get it right next time.

Mr. Tozier's brow furrowed. “Well, you weren't in trouble, Frankie, but why do you want me to call your daddy? Is something going on at home?”

I really thought about it. No, not really. Home has been kinda boring. Daddy always looks sad when I'm with him, but mommy always has boys around all the time. I just want my daddy to be happy too. Not with lots of boys though, just Mr. Tozier. I didn't like getting used to lots and lots of new boys because some of them smell funny and have weird mustaches.

“Frankie?” Mr. Tozier asked. Oops, I'd been thinking too much.

“No.” I said quickly and walked away. I didn't even remember to ask him to sign my cast. I guess Hank could do it first after all.

After all the kids got done signing my cast with lots of cool things, Hank drew a dinosaur, I went to work. I knew daddy would definitely come if I was in danger, but it didn't work the first time. I decided I had to do something different. I had to get in trouble.

It happened at recess. Mr. Tozier was watching everybody, but I wanted to make sure he was watching me. I took a big breath in and let out a loud scream. Mr. Tozier looked up but so did everybody else. I'd have to explain why I was doing it to all my lots of friends later. They'd understand. With all my might, I pushed over the big wood play kitchen and all the kids playing house ran away. The play plates hit the ground over and over one at a time. It sounded like rain.

Mr. Tozier rushed over. Yay! “Is everyone okay?” The other kids nodded. When he looked at me, he didn't look mad. He looked worried. That made me worried too.

He took me to the place I go to when I get off my bus and had me sit in the big plush chair. Once he was in the other room, I got up and pressed my ear to the door. He was talking to somebody. I think on the phone.

“I think something might be going on at home.” Mr Tozier said. I sighed. Not really. Just call my daddy. Say I'm in big trouble. “Oh, a divorce? That's gotta be tough on him.” It wasn't tough at all! What was tough was getting my daddy and Mr. Tozier in one room. Ugh!

Chapter 3: Why Does Everybody Ask if I'm Okay??

How was I supposed to know they'd just make me talk to some lady? That is not what I wanted at all.

“Frankie,” She said gently like she was talking to a puppy. I'm not a puppy. “Can you please tell me how things have been at home?”

“Why does everybody keep asking me that!” I knew it wasn't polite to shout, but I was getting so frustrated! “Sorry, things are just fine. I'm happy.”

Even though I told her I'm happy she still looked sad. What was going on? “Are you happy when you're with your mommy?”

I felt a big frown on my face. “Yeah, I guess!” I folded my arms. Things were fine. Mommy was just kind of boring sometimes. She just wanted me to dress up nice and be polite. I was so sick of always being so polite.

“What about your daddy?” She asked.

I smiled. “Well, daddy is the best. We play games and watch TV but he's lonely and needs a boyfriend like my mommy has.”

The lady's eyebrows raised up like they were gonna bump into her hair. “A boyfriend?” She asked. “Maybe you mean a girlfriend.”

I rolled my eyes. “No! My daddy likes boys!’’

Talking to that lady was so pointless. She didn't even help me with how to get Mr. Tozier and my daddy together. I hoped I never had to see that lady ever again.

My mommy drove me home and fussed with my hair when she buckled me in. “What did you say to the nice lady?” She asked me.

“I told her daddy likes boys.” I explained, getting a little tired of always having to explain myself.

Mommy's eyebrows did the same thing as the lady. It's a little silly for her to be surprised. I knew she knew that already. She didn't say much else. She just got in the front seat and drove us home.

When Daddy came to pick me up the next day, I was so excited. It was the weekend and Daddy always planned a fun activity. I wanted to see the new Sonic movie and get lots of popcorn.

It was taking mommy and daddy a really long time to come get me in my room, so I hopped off my bed and sat on the top of the stairs looking down at them through the bars. They looked upset. They had angry eyebrows and folded up arms.

“You told him about your little perversion?” Mommy said. I didn't know what that meant, but what did daddy tell me about? Maybe about the big black cats at the zoo.

Daddy held up his hands. “No, I didn't tell him anything about that. I don't know how he found out.” Maybe not about the big cats after all.

“Well, tell him you don't. Tell him you like women like you're supposed to.” I opened my eyes really wide. Was this about daddy liking boys? What's the big deal! Mommy likes boys too!

“Daddy can like boys if he wants to!” I ran down the stairs to stand up tall next to daddy.

They both looked down at me with their mouths hanging open. Close your mouths, gosh! “It's not normal.” Mommy said in a calm voice. I was so sick of people talking to me like a puppy or a baby or something.

I held out my hand. “Daddy, I wanna go.” I didn't feel like talking about this. I had important things to do.

Daddy looked down at me, surprised. Mommy looked mad. They looked at each other for a few seconds before daddy grabbed my hand and we started walking out. I smiled wide.

“Wait!” Mommy called after us, but we didn't stop or look back.

We were gonna have a wonderful, awesome time watching Sonic and eating popcorn and then after that I would think about my next plan. Daddy and Mr. Tozier were gonna be happy if it was the last thing I did!

Chapter 4: Hank's My Best Friend Ever!

"Okay Hank, this is very important.” I started to explain. It was nap time, so I had to whisper. I had my mat pulled up right next to Hank's. Hank had a big smile while he listened. He was always a good listener. Probably because I told lots of good stories. “My daddy likes boys.”

“What else would he do?” Hank poked his cheek. “You're a boy, so if he didn't it would be really sad actually.”

“No, no.” I waved him off with my cast. “I mean he likes boys like mommies like daddies.”

“Woah.” Hank said. “That's so cool. I wish my daddy likes boys too.” I knew I could count on Hank to see things my way. My daddy was pretty cool after all.

“I think my daddy should be in love with Mr. Tozier.” I explained and smiled a lot. It was such a great idea.

Hank didn't smile, he looked worried. “But Frankie, he's our teacher.”

“So, what?” I folded my arms.

Hank seemed like he really had to think about it. That made sense because he was being silly. “It's weird.”

“That's a horrible reason, Hank.” I shook my head. I really expected more from my best friend ever.

“What if he treats you different?” Hank pushed his fingers together.

I huffed. What a dumb thing to say. “It would only be good different cause he'd give me less work and maybe let me go home early.” I hadn't thought about any of that, but a teacher daddy had to have perks.

“Woah.” Hank said. “Okay, what do we do?” I knew Hank was a good friend! Now I had a whole helper! We'd definitely make it happen!

“Well, I already tried this.” I proudly held up my cast.

“You did that on purpose?” He asked, scrunching up his face. What was the big deal? It didn't even work.

“And when I knocked over the kitchen.” I smiled wide. They were all very good plans, so the next one would definitely work!

Hank frowned again. “That broke off the sink and now it doesn't fit.”

“It was for a good reason.” I said. “My daddy needs love!”

“I guess so.” Hank still pouted, so I made a funny face and oinked like a pig. That's what Mr. Tozier would do.

Hank giggled a lot until a girl on the mat next to us said, “Shhh!” That just made us giggle more.

We put my plan in action just after nap time. Hank went up to Mr. Tozier and got his attention. “Look, Mr. Tozier!” He said, then started trying to put his whole fist in his mouth. I had to try really hard not to laugh. At first, Mr. Tozier watched, but as I expected, he tried to stop him after that.

That's when I made my move! I slipped behind the cubbies on the wall. There was just a tiny little bit of space, but I slipped in like a super spy when no one was looking. I could still see everything! My plan was working perfectly.

A few minutes later, everybody got their bins from the cubbies to start working. Hank went straight back to Mr. Tozier. “Excuse me, Mr. Tozier?”

“What's on your mind, Hankster?” He winked. I sighed. What was my future other daddy doing giving fun nicknames to other little boys? Very inconsiderate!

“Have you seen Frankie?” Hank asked. The smile grew wider on my lips. I tried hard not to giggle. Mr. Tozier's smile went away completely. He hopped up and started looking all around. I held my breath. He checked in the lockers. Good thing I decided not to hide there! That was a close one. He checked in the trash can. I definitely wouldn't have ever hid somewhere like that. Unless I got really desperate to think of a good spot I guess.

Mr. Tozier looked back at Hank. “Hank, do you know where he is?” I crossed my fingers in both hands. Hank, please don't be a tattletale at a time like this! “If you do, please tell me. Neither of you will be in trouble.”

Hank shook his head. “I think you could call his daddy.” Hank added. Yes! I knew Hank was my bestest friend ever for a reason! We did it! My daddy was about to meet the love of his whole life!

Chapter 5: They Meet and I'm Cute

It got a little boring waiting in my hiding place. My back hurt too because the plug on the wall was poking it, but it was all worth it for my daddy!

Mr. Tozier had been pacing around and Hank was obviously trying really hard not to look over at me. He was doing a very great job.

It felt like forever and ever, but finally I heard someone stomp in the room. Daddy! I could tell it was him. I was so happy I almost gave up my hiding spot. I put my hand over my mouth just in case.

“Unbelievable.” My daddy said. “Your one job is keeping the children in your care safe and my child breaks his arm and then goes missing! I hope you don't like your job.” I frowned. This wasn't right. They were supposed to fall right in love at first sight!

“Sir,” Mr Tozier started talking, surely he would fall in love with my great, awesome daddy! “With all due respect, this is not an easy job. They haven't replaced my classroom aide since he quit.” I remembered Ms. Ramsey. She snorted when she laughed. I always wondered when she'd come back. “Trust me that the welfare of my students is the thing I care most about.”

“So, is it just my son that you are lax with?” Daddy said, still sounding angry. This wasn't good!

“No. I care very much about your son.” Yay! I knew I was the favorite. He'll definitely love my daddy just so he can be my other daddy. I'm so cool. “I've actually been very worried about him. He's been acting out a lot.” More like I've been trying really hard to get you two knuckle sandwiches to be in love! Give me a break.

“Of course he has been with this level of instruction and look at this deathtrap!” My daddy held up the broken part of the play sink and waved it around.

“Frankie broke that actually. He just shoved it over while other kids were playing with it.” I smiled, a little proud even though that plan didn't work.

Daddy frowned and crossed his arms. He had the line in his face he got when he was worried and the other one he got when he was mad. “Well, can't you watch him better? If you just-” Daddy put a hand over his mouth. Mr. Tozier put a hand on daddy's shoulder. It was happening! Frankie Kaspbrak you genius! “I'm sorry.” Daddy said. “This just isn't like him.”

“From what I understand, he's going through a lot right now.” Mr. Tozier said with his kindest tone.

Daddy gasped. “Are you trying to blame this on the divorce? You're the one that lost my son!” Daddy's voice squeaked like it did the time I found a baby rat and brought it in the house as my pet.

“I'm not blaming it on anything.” Mr. Tozier was so calm. I wanted him to make a cool animal sound so my daddy would stop being so mad. “I think he's probably hiding. It seems like it's been about attention. It's like he wants me to call you. Specifically you. I don't mean to pry, but has the divorce made it difficult for you to spend time with him?” That's not it at all! I do want to see daddy more and everything, but that's not why I was making these really smart plans. Clearly I was doing something right because it worked.

“No. That's ridiculous. We should call the police. A kidnapper could be getting further and further away by the second.” No! That wasn't what I wanted at all. It was time to make my great reveal! They'd both be so happy to see me and we'd all laugh and smile together.

I started trying to wiggle out of my hiding spot, but when it got to my arm with the cast with lots of decorations on it, it didn't budge. Uh-Oh.

Chapter 6: Stuck (but Being Really Brave About it)

My cast made a loud smacking sound as I tried to pull it free. Before I got my arm unstuck, everyone looked up from talking and stared at me. They had big eyes like owls, hoot hoot, Mr. Tozier might say.

Daddy's eyes were all watery and he rushed over. “Frankie, oh my god. Have you been here this whole time?” He gave Mr. Tozier a really mean look. “He's been here the whole time and you couldn't find him? How is that possible?”

Mr. Tozier shrugged. “I said I thought he was hiding, but I'm very sorry about all this.” He still looked very stressed out and his eyes were all red.

“You can't just relax because you think something is true when my son could be in danger.” Daddy always talked with his hands and started to talk really fast when he was mad, so he was probably very mad.

I kept trying to wiggle free, but it wasn't happening. Oh no. “I'm stuck.” I said interrupting their boring conversation that wasn't even about being in love.

“Stuck? Oh God. Your arm?” Daddy asked. I nodded. It was very obviously my arm, but whatever. “Does it hurt?”

I shook my head, but it was kinda hard cause there was barely space to breathe. “No, it doesn't hurt even a little bit.” I was super brave after all.

“How did you even get back there?” Mr. Tozier asked, he sounded pretty impressed.

“I just wiggled.” I said with a big smile showing all my teeth.

My daddy bobbed his head up and down like a gulping fish. Splish splash . “Have you tried to wiggle out?” Daddy wiggled as if I didn't know what wiggling was. I wiggled my whole way back here in the first place!

“Yeah, I did try it! I wiggled and wiggled, but I'm still stuck.” I pushed out my bottom lip. So frustrating! My plan wasn't working well at all.

Daddy chewed on his lips. “Your mother is not going to be happy about this.” He said it all quiet like he wasn't even talking to me, but he obviously was.

He tried to pull on my cast, but it hurt. “Ow.” I said.

“Sorry, I'm sorry.” He let go of me right after like it hurt him too.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kaspbrak?” Mr. Tozier called my daddy something funny, tapping on his shoulder. I guess he can't call him daddy, but my daddy's not even a teacher!

Daddy turned back to look. “What?” He breathed out really hard, like whoosh .

“Let me try, I have an idea.” Mr. Tozier said.

My daddy kept breathing loud. “Fine.” He stepped away from me.

Mr. Tozier did the thing where his fingers make little cracking sounds. I giggled. He was so silly. “Okay, Frankie. Are you scared?”

Of course not, I was obviously being very brave. “No.” I said.

“Alright, let's see…” He looked all around the small, dark place where I was. I tried not to think that it was so small and dark, but it was hard not to think it. “Do you think you can jump out of there really fast when I say go? You can race to your daddy.”

I smiled wide. That sounded like a fun game. “Okay!”

“What are you going to do?” Daddy asked.

Mr. Tozier winked at him. “I have a plan, just stand back.” My daddy's face seemed kinda blotchy and red. I hoped he wasn't getting sick cause he was so worried about me. That would be bad. He nodded and took a few steps back.

Hank looked up at my daddy. “Is Frankie going to die?”

Daddy just looked at him with a crinkly face, but Mr. Tozier said. “You trust Mr. Tozier, don't you, Hankster?” Hank smiled and nodded a lot. Me too. He was gonna be a great other daddy.

Mr. Tozier pushed something that made a loud clicking sound and wrapped his big, huge arms around the cubbies that were making me so stuck. He leaned back with all his might making weird little sounds that were pretty funny. I could see more light after that. “Go Frankie!” Ready, set , go and Frankie Kaspbrak was off like the flash! I did a really cool job coming out by kicking off the side of the cubbies.

I ran up to daddy and jumped up into his arms. We both smiled a lot, but then, there was a big, loud crashing sound. I looked over from daddy's arms and I saw Mr. Tozier being crushed under the big, heavy cubbies.

Hank pulled on my daddy's pocket. “Is Mr. Tozier gonna die?” He asked. Good question. I hope not. How could he be my new daddy if he died!

Chapter 7: Two Tomatoes Make a Salad!

No, no, no! I started rushing over to Mr. Tozier, but daddy put his hand out and I stopped. Daddy went over really slow.

“I'm a-okay!” Mr. Tozier said from under the cubbies. “Don't worry about me! I have a hard head!” Mr. Tozier definitely did cause he ran into stuff all the time! He always said ‘it’s okay I have a hard head ' or ‘another bruise for my bruise collection' . I had a bruise collection too.

Daddy made grumbling sounds and bent his knees next to the cubbies that were crushing Mr. Tozier's whole body. “Don't be ridiculous. You should definitely be seen by a doctor after this.”

“Nope, years of being reckless have made my head basically a head of steel. Nothing could penetrate it now. My brain is well protected.” Said Mr. Tozier. Yeah! He had to be right. That made sense.

“That's not how it works at all, dummy.” Oh. “Once you get one concussion, every one afterwards gets worse and worse and worse. How many have you had? Maybe I should call an ambulance.” Daddy held a hand to his head like he did when he was about to put me in time out. Mr. Tozier was about to be in time out.

“Please don't do that.” Mr. Tozier said. He really didn't want to go to time out. I didn't blame him. It's super boring in time out.

“What's a concussion?” Hank asked. It was a good question. I could have answered it, but I let daddy feel smart.

“A brain injury. It's very serious.” Daddy said quickly.

“What's an injury?” Hank asked again.

Mr. Tozier answered that question from under the pile. “A booboo.” He said.

“Oh!” Hank said. I already knew that, but that answered the question for Hank. Mr. Tozier and daddy were very smart.

Daddy shook his head fast like a dog. “That's enough of this foolishness. We're getting you out of there.” He rolled up his sleeves and started pulling on the cubbies. “What on earth? How could they possibly weigh this much? I should definitely call someone.” He said.

“That won't be necessary, Mr. Kaspbrak.” Said the voice of Mr. Tozier from under the pile. He was really stuck good. “Can you just pull and I'll push?”

Daddy breathed loud like a dragon. “Okay, fine. We can try your idea first.” He tapped his foot fast like a bunny. He was being lots of funny animals!

The stuff moved probably because Mr. Tozier moved, not because there was a bunch of friendly mice trying to help. Sad. “Good. On three.” Mr. Tozier said. “One, two, three.” Daddy pulled up breathing hard and turning red as a tomato, but the cubbies were going up that time. I could finally see Mr. Tozier. He was pushing. He was all red too. Two tomato faces. We just needed green lettuce for one of mommy's salads. Icky. I giggled.

“Is this funny to you, Frankie?” Daddy asked, breathing really hard. I nodded, still smiling, and he made an even funnier crinkly face. I loved my daddy so much. He was so funny.

After Mr. Tozier pushed all the way up, daddy moved over to help push. Push, push push. Then it was all the way up, but the stuff was still all over the ground in a big mess. Mr. Tozier was definitely gonna get grounded.

“Thank you.” Mr. Tozier said, but he turned around and he slipped on a notebook like it was a banana peel. Woosh . He tumbled and bumbled into my daddy and they both did a funny dance before falling down on the ground. Mr. Tozier was crushing my daddy cause he was way bigger.

Oh, no!

Wait, no. This was perfect! They were basically hugging! That's what people that love each other very much do. It was working! I was a love genius.

Chapter 8: Friends??

They both got up really fast and rubbed down their clothes like mommy did to me right before school. “Are you in love now?” I asked because I was getting very tired of waiting.

Daddy got a weird expression on his face like when he told me he wasn't gonna be with mommy anymore. I started to feel scared because I didn't know why he looked at me like that. “Oh my god.” Daddy said.

“No, Frankie.” Mr. Tozier smiled, so that made me feel a little better, but it meant I didn't do it yet.

“Is that what all this has been about?” Daddy said. I nodded. “You want me to be in love with your teacher?” I nodded again. I really did want that. “Oh my god.” He closed his eyes really tight. “I am so sorry, Mr. Tozier. This is all very embarrassing. Maybe we could talk in the other room?”

Mr. Tozier nodded. “Just for a minute, okay? I don't have an aide right now.”

“Sure, that's fine.” Daddy said.

Mr. Tozier looked at us kids and put two fingers from his eyes then to point at us. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do.” We all giggled because it was funny, but I felt bubbly in my stomach. Maybe my plan would never ever work.

Daddy went with Mr. Tozier out the door. When the door shut, I ran up and poked my eye under the door. I couldn't see anything really, but I could hear a tiny bit better.

“I'm so sorry about this.” Daddy said. “He must be taking the divorce really hard.” I was not.

“I understand. I'm flattered he seems to want me as his step parent. Maybe that means I'm doing something right.” Yeah! The rightest ever!

“I hope this isn't overstepping telling you this, but he found out I was divorcing his mother because I'm gay. I didn't tell him, but we must not have been careful enough talking about it.” Gay? No. It was cause Daddy liked boys! That's all. Gay was something bad mommy talked about.

There was time with no talking, but I couldn't see why. “Oh.” Mr. Tozier said. Good, they were still there.

“Oh God, it was totally over stepping, wasn't it?”

“No, no. Actually, I was thinking maybe he somehow found out I'm gay and that's why he picked me.” Gay? What was it with all this gay?

There was another long time with no talking. “Oh.” Daddy said.

“Sorry, maybe now I'm the one talking too much. I do that a lot actually. I thought since you were too, it might be okay, but I promise I would not usually tell a parent of one of my students that.”

It sounded like Daddy laughed a little but lighter than usual because he usually sounded like a cackling witch. “It's fine. It's nice to not be the only one. I wasn't exactly in the community before now.”

“Well, I'm free to talk anytime after 3pm.” Mr. Tozier said. Daddy did that different laugh again. Like a kitten laughing. It was weird.

“What are you saying?” Daddy asked. Mr. Tozier was pretty clear. That's because that's when school ended.

“If you want to come here around then or shoot me an email that would be fine by me. It's easy to feel lonely when you're entering a brand new community. I'll be your first gay friend. If you want. No pressure.” Gay.. hmm. If daddy and Mr. Tozier were gay it couldn't be bad.

“That does sound nice.” Daddy said. “I’ll think about it.”

“Frankie is a great kid.” True. “Maybe if you have a talk with him about it, now that we know what's been going on, he'll stop. Divorce is confusing for a kid.” Mr. Tozier said all that, but I was not confused at all. I knew exactly what was going on.

“Sometimes it's best, that's what my therapist says. I actually kind of wish my parents divorced.” Daddy said. That was weird. Daddy only had one parent. Grandma. She pinched my cheeks too hard.

Mr. Tozier laughed a little. “Is that so?”

“Oh, no. That was totally too much, right? You don't need my life story.” Daddy said his voice was going fast.

“It's totally fine. What are friends for?” Mr. Tozier said.

“Thanks.” Daddy said. Friends? Friends?? That's not in love at all! Friends are what I was with Hank. That was not going to end with Mr. Tozier being my other daddy. What a nightmare!

Though, I guess it wasn't so bad. Daddy needed friends and I really really liked Hank and all my other friends. I guess if that made daddy happy, I could be happy too. What are sons for? I wanted to be a great son. That's why I did it all in the first place! Daddy and Mr. Tozier were gonna be good friends and that was that!

Chapter 9: That Was Fun, but I'm Bored Now

After that day, daddy came to get me from school all the time! It was so great! I guess mommy didn't mind staying at home and relaxing while daddy picked me up. He really was best friends with Mr. Tozier. That was great.

They talked and talked. Blah, blah, blah I had important stuff to do. At first, I listened in. I'm a growing, curious boy, but it was all just boring stuff I didn't care about.

Still, I loved daddy having a friend and coming to get me. I got to play with all the best toys all by myself. Daddy did the weird kitten giggles, but I was happy his witch laugh came back sometimes too. He must have been getting more comfy with Mr. Tozier. That's nice. Mr. Tozier would say something very funny and daddy would punch him in the arm and do his witch cackles.

After they talked and talked, sometimes they would both come over and pretend to be giant monsters that came to get me and pretend destroyed the play kitchen. I laughed and laughed as they chased me.

One day, Mr. Tozier almost knocked the cubbies over again. Daddy got really upset and did a karate chop in the air talking about safety blah blah blah , but Mr. Tozier showed daddy that it only came off the wall if he flipped this switch thing. Cool! He clicked it and daddy squeaked like a scared mouse, but Mr. Tozier clicked it back before the cubbies crushed us all forever.

Life was pretty great until we started staying at school later and later and I was missing my favorite shows like teenage mutant ninja turtles. I liked watching it before we had to eat dinner. “Come on, daddy.” I said because we'd been at school for at least sixty hours.

“Just a minute.” Daddy said. He was playing a boring card game with Mr. Tozier. Mr. Tozier kept losing. That was good. Daddy deserved to win since I always beat him at all the actually fun games.

Mr. Tozier put down his cards showing all their faces which was probably bad because daddy could see all of them in his hand. “It's okay, we shouldn't keep him.”

“But,” Daddy started. No, daddy. Time to go.

Mr. Tozier smiled wide with lots of teeth. “Maybe you can beat me at cards at my place sometime?”

Daddy smiled a little too, but just like a little c, not with lots of teeth. “Really?”

“I think it's a good time.” Mr. Tozier said. It was a good time because it was the time I would usually be watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Daddy took a long time to respond, then when he did, he was quiet like a whisper. A whisper for no reason. “Okay. Frankie will be with his mom all day tomorrow.”

“It's okay daddy, you can see Mr. Tozier without me.” I said. I thought it was nice of me to say that. They were trying to find a time that I was free too, but I can't always be babysitting them. Daddy had to learn to hang out with his friends by himself once in a while.

Daddy and Mr. Tozier smiled. “Thanks Frankie.” Daddy said.

Mr. Tozier messed up my hair which is good cause I liked it best messy. “Yeah, buddy. I'm glad we have your blessing.”

“Nobody sneezed.” I said. I didn't say bless you to anybody, but maybe Mr. Tozier forgot that. They both laughed.

“So, tomorrow?” Daddy asked Mr. Tozier.

Mr. Tozier nodded a lot like a weird bird. Big bird, haha . “I'll text you the address.”

Daddy spent too long just waving at Mr. Tozier, so I pushed him along. It was like he was a broken toy just waving and waving. “Are you okay, daddy? Why are you doing that? It's weird.”

Daddy pulled back his hands and started to walk finally. “You think?” He asked me for advice, which was good because I gave the best advice.

“Definitely.” I said.

Chapter 10: Best Matchmaker: Frankie Kaspbrak

Daddy didn't pick me up every day after that, but still a lot. Mr. Tozier always went from happy to sad when he saw my mommy, but lots of people did that. I was happy if it was daddy or mommy because when it wasn't daddy every time anymore, it got to be fun again to stay at school and play with all the fun toys all by myself. Sometimes I wished I had Hank to play with too, but at least there wasn't a line for playing with the kitchen.

There was one day that Mr. Tozier was acting weird all day long, and he was just smiling at me, but not happy, more like scared. Weirdo. When Daddy came Mr. Tozier didn't seem surprised like he usually did. He'd say like ‘what a nice surprise' usually when daddy came. This day, he just lifted his hand in the tiniest wave I ever saw and daddy just did it right back. What was going on!

“Hey, Frankie?” Daddy said.

I felt my face scrunch up. “What?”

“We would like to talk to you about something, kiddo.” Mr. Tozier said. He kept rubbing his hands together. Weird, weird, weird .

“Fine.” I said and I plopped down on the beanbag. I liked the orange and blue one best and since it was only me, I could have whichever one I wanted.

Mr. Tozier and daddy pulled over two chairs. The one daddy pulled made a screech sound at first. “Sorry.” Daddy made a squeaky sound with his mouth instead of the chair and lifted it up to wobble like a penguin the rest of the way over.

“So, Frankie.” Daddy coughed and Mr. Tozier put a hand on daddy's shoulder. I was starting to get freaked out! What could be so important! I was scared because maybe my fish died cause he wasn't looking so good when he was napping on the top of the water in the morning.

“Gosh, just spit it out already.” I said, wiggling in the beanbag. If they were gonna tell me something bad I wanted it to be over so I could cry and get done crying in time for my show.

“Sorry, um,” Daddy coughed again.

“Are you sick daddy?” Oh no. Maybe daddy was gonna die! That's way worse than a fish.

“No, um, I,” He coughed again. No.

I started getting my crying out early. I cried and cried and yelled. “Daddy's dying! You're gonna say you're dying.” I cried some more just to be sure I'd get it all out.

“No. I'm fine.” Daddy said. “I'm not sick.” He said that, but his face was all red and Mr. Tozier looked worried. He was gonna lose his best best friend and my best best daddy. I cried louder.

“We're in love!” Mr. Tozier said and squeezed my daddy's shoulder more.

What?

What!

WHAT?!

I hopped out of the bean bag like a bunny. “What?” I said.

“It's true.” Daddy held his hands out. “I'm not dying. We're just in love and going to be starting a new relationship. We wanted you to know. I know this is probably strange for you, but-”

I opened my eyes wide. It worked. I started laughing and daddy looked more worried, but my new future daddy smiled wide. IT WORKED! Of course it worked. I never gave up and it worked because I'm the best matchmaker in the whole world! “You’re welcome.” I said.

“What?” Daddy said, but Mr. Tozier Daddy laughed with me. He picked me up and spun me around until I was dizzy and daddy started laughing too. This was definitely going to be so super fun! I was glad they had me because if it wasn't for me, daddy might have been alone forever and ever and Mr. Tozier wouldn't have a great and very cute new son!

Chapter 11: Epilogue: My New Plan!

My name is Frankie Kaspbrak and now I'm seven whole years old and very mature. After helping my daddies fall in love, I helped them decide to get married too! Wow, what would they do without me?

The most important thing was, what was I going to be? Probably best man, ring bearer, flower boy, and guy that says you may kiss the bride! Though, they'd have to say something else this time. Would they say, you may kiss the groom? Maybe we should skip the gross kissing altogether. Ew.

My original, first daddy said I could only pick one and probably I couldn't be the priest without lots more work and school, and I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to tell them to kiss anyways. Papa Richie (that used to be Mr. Tozier) said I should live my dream and I could be everything and do the wedding as a one boy show. That might be a lot of work though. Maybe I'd be the flower boy because I like flowers and if I lost the ring, I'd probably be in big trouble.

Flower boy it is! I got lots of pretty flowers that I picked out and I helped my daddies pick off all the petals to put in a little white basket. I smooshed em when I took them off, but Papa Richie said it was okay cause I'd just be throwing them. I was excited to make a big flower mess.

Mommy wasn't gonna come to the wedding. I told her that was stupid because it would be fun and the best time ever. She thought I should still call Papa Richie, Mr. Tozier, but that would be confusing since he wasn't even my teacher anymore. Plus, my name might get to be Frankie Kaspbrak-Tozier! They said I could decide, but I was still thinking about it. It sounded pretty nice.

After all that was figured out, I had time to think about the real most important thing. Since I did such a wonderful job with my first plan of getting daddy and Papa Richie to fall in love, I decided I could basically do anything. It was a lot of power, but Spiderman says to use it for only good things, so that's what I was gonna do.

It was time for the wedding, and I was hiding under the biggest table with Hank. He was my plus one. We took a break from eating the cake that we took from the back of the cake so no one would notice. We had icing all over our fingers, but we could just wipe it on the table cloths, so it was fine. “Okay, Hank. I have a new really amazing plan.”

Hank sighed loud. “It better not be you getting stuck again. I was worried.”

I shook my head a lot. “No, no. Hank. I'm gonna get a baby brother.”

Hank smiled. “Is your mommy pregnant?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Hank. Are we at my mommy's wedding right now? Gosh.”

He looked confused. Hank, you gotta think about these things. “But, who?” He asked me.

“My daddy is gonna have a baby with Papa Richie.” I said. “I’m gonna make it happen.”

Hank's mouth opened wide. “Woah.” He said.

“So, you're in?” I held out my pinky.

He wrapped my pinky with his pinky. “I'm in.” Hank was the best. Maybe I'd marry him one day too. He'd be pretty good at helping me with my plans for forever.

The plan was ready. Here it goes. I had all my flower petals in the basket and I tossed them and smiled and looked cute and everyone was looking at me. Then, Hank was free to go up to the stage. He whispered the secret plan to the priest (that's what they're called) and gave him a bag filled with a special surprise.

I smiled from ear to ear! It was all gonna happen! Just like last time! Daddy and Papa Richie got up to the front and I stayed where I was supposed to stand, then it happened.

The priest smiled. “This is a little unusual.” He said. “But a little boy told me you all had a surprise you wanted to share.”

“A surprise?” Daddy asked.

Papa Richie said, “Okay, sure, show us the surprise.”

He pulled out the surprise from the bag. It was a baby doll and long paper that said, ’it’s a boy' that I very secretly took from the store when I was with mommy. “Congratulations?” The priest said.

Daddy stared and turned red, then more red, but an angry red. He yelled. “Frankie Kaspbrak-Tozier!” It sounded nice, just like I thought it would! I told my daddy I decided that's what I wanted to be called just that morning, and I was happy he remembered. Papa Richie tried to cover his mouth, but I knew he was laughing.

I didn't actually think that would work of course, it takes a few tries like last time, but, eventually, I was definitely getting that little brother!

[btsgotjams27]

this is us (sequel to all grown up) | completed 🔞 genre/au: romance, drama, angst, smut | established relationship, age gap ✨ After fighting to be in a relationship with Jungkook, you begin to wonder if it’s all worth it.

all grown up | completed 🔞 genre/au: romance, drama, angst, smut | best friends little brother, age gap ✨ A family reunion brings back the young boy you grew up with. Though he wasn’t the doe-eyed boy you once knew, he stood in front of you all grown up. (Loosely inspired by the kdrama Something in the Rain.)

fool for you | completed genre/au: romance, fluff | college!au, strangers to friends to lovers ✨ When Jungkook is finally single, you shoot your shot.

sweet tooth | (slow updates — ongoing) genre/au: romance, slow burn, slow build | vampire!au, supernatural ✨ Bills and rent are piling up, so your roommate suggests you look into a gig she stumbled upon. But it’s not what you expect. OR Jungkook runs a vampire blood bank and you service clients with your blood.

perfect palette ✨ genre/au: slice of life, light angst | model!jk, las vegas!au ✨ vegas isn’t your first choice, but you love your best friend and are willing to do anything for her, including planning her bachelorette party. everything is all set, ready to go for the last day, until you receive a text from the model you’ve hired. he’s out sick but have no fear, he’s sent the next best thing to replace him for the night.

the back-up plan genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?) ✨ One drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and Jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is Jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.

things you don't know ~ m.list genre/au: angst, pining | ex BFFs!au ✨ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

naked ~ m.list | 🔞 genre/au: smut, light fluff | fwb, age gap ✨ You’re selfish when it comes to him. He wants more, but you won’t let him.

busted ~ m.list | 🔞 genre/au: smut, pwp | parents!au, married!au ✨ Your husband comes home with a new gift and you're not happy with it.

the kindergarten teacher genre/au: fluff, cute | teacher!jungkook ✨ You meet your daughter’s teacher and he’s not what you expected.

sleepless nights genre/au: fluff, cute | parents!au ✨ You find Jungkook having a sweet moment with your daughter.

stay focused 🔞 genre/au: boxer!au, light light light smut ✨ Jungkook has a big match coming up but you can’t help teasing him.

unbreakable genre/au: vampire!au, 1800s era ✨ If you could choose another life, you would, but being a vampire slayer was your destiny.

broken hearts club | teaser genre/au: romance, fluff | strangers-to-friends-??, private chef!jk x author!reader ✨ It's been a year after your public breakup, and the final installment of your romance series was meant to be released, but you've been engulfed with writer's block. Your editor suggests spending the summer at her beach house for inspiration, but when an unexpected visitor shows up on your doorstep, he offers much more than inspiration.

[sequinsmile-x]

Our Great Divide - Chapter 8: Leave it All behind, and There is Happiness

It's what they'd hoped would happen for years. For close to a decade it's what they would talk about late at night whilst snuggled up in bed together, quiet voices whispering about a life where Jack and Haley came back, where Jack could meet his siblings and their family would finally feel complete. Now it was finally happening, Emily had a pit in her stomach. A heavy weight made of fear and guilt as she worried that this could actually be the thing that tore them apart.

A Foyet Arc AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Well, here we are at the last chapter!! Thank you so, SO much for your love for this fic. It really does mean the world. I'm sure I'll revisit this universe at some point for a prequel or a sequel (or both!)

As always, let me know what you think.

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings can be found on the Master List

Words: 3.2K

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I don’t want Jack to go.” 

Emily sighs as she looks at Stella, the pout on her little girl’s face as adorable as it was pitiful. It makes sadness swell in Emily’s chest, the familiar ache that came with saying goodbye settling low in her gut, the seeds of it taking root as she picks the toddler up and rests her on her hip. Stella immediately presses herself against her, her face in her neck, her tiny hands tight in the neckline of her shirt, and it allows Emily to push her own sadness aside, to focus on her daughter’s over her own. 

“I know, baby,” she says, stroking Stella’s hair, running her fingers through the wild locks that could seemingly never be tamed, “We’ll all miss him, but things aren’t going back to how they used to be, remember?” She kisses the side of her head, smiling against her temple when she nods, “We’ll see him again over the summer, and he said he’d call you all the time.” 

Stella huffs as she pulls back, her lip still stuck out in a pout. Emily pokes it, smiling when it draws a smile out of her little girl, however fleeting, her dimples making a brief appearance before she remembers she’s sad. 

“I don’t like goodbyes.” 

She feels the sorrow start to bloom, the flowers of it taking up space in her chest in a way that makes it hard to breathe. She used to be good at goodbyes. They were par for the course with her life. First when she was young - permanently the new kid and never somewhere long enough to make friendships worth saying goodbye to. Then with her chosen career, since being a spy didn’t necessarily go hand in hand with making friends, and then when she was in Paris - a goodbye that had stolen from her. Her friends all sure she was dead, their arms aching with the phantom weight of her coffin when she was sitting in an apartment on another continent wondering what she could have done differently. Even that had felt inevitable. Every day she’d spent happy and content as she found somewhere she belonged in the BAU another step towards a goodbye, something her life had taught her was always just around the corner. 

Aaron, and by extension their children, had taken that ability from her. The idea of leaving people behind, of moving forward without them, suddenly something she couldn’t bear even when it was simple things like their first day at school. When Hugo started kindergarten, the fear of Foyet still looming, she’d been inconsolable. Able to hold herself together until he was safely in his classroom, his eyes wide and shining as he turned back to wave at her and Aaron. She’d cried the entire journey home, the words goodbye, see you later bitter on her tongue as she rode in the back of the car with Leo, her hand wrapped around his tiny foot as Aaron drove them home. 

“Me neither, sweet girl,” she says, rubbing a circle on Stella’s back, her gaze briefly drifting over to where Aaron was sitting on the couch with Jack, Hugo and Leo, the two young boys all but hanging off their older brother. “But it’s okay to be sad.” 

Stella huffs and leans forward, her forehead against Emily’s cheek as she snuggles deeper into her embrace, “Daddy will be sad.”

Emily nods and kisses Stella’s forehead, “He will be, but we can look after him, right?” She asks, and Stella nods. Her attention is drawn towards the boys again, Hugo and Leo’s chatter loud and well-intentioned, but drowning out a moment Aaron was trying to have with his eldest, one of the last ones they’d have in person for a while, “Let's go take Hugo and Leo outside, huh?” She says, bouncing Stella on her hip, drawing a laugh from her, “Give Daddy and Jack some time alone.” 

Stella nods and scrambles down from Emily’s embrace. The moment she’s on the ground she runs towards her brothers, her expression as determined as her movements as she demands Hugo and Leo go outside with her just as Emily knew she would. Stella had them all wrapped around her little finger, as she had since the moment she was born, so neither Emily nor Aaron are surprised when she quickly convinces them to go with her. Emily follows them, content to keep her children entertained outside and she winks at her husband, shaking her head slightly when he smiles at her in thanks. 

He never had to thank her for this - for loving him. He loved her in the same way. Deeply and without condition. The kind of love they both liked to think they deserved after everything they’d been through both together and apart. 

Aaron watches as they go outside, the happy loud chaos that fills every corner of their home following them out, fading as they make it to the backyard. He smiles as he turns to Jack, “They’ll miss you.” 

Jack smiles and nods, “I’ll miss them too,” he shrugs slightly, “And you and Emily.” 

“We’ll miss you too buddy,” he replies, “And when you come back in the summer we’ll decorate your room.” 

He beams at that, “No Captain America sheets?” 

Aaron laughs, “No. Unless you want them.” 

Jack shakes his head, “I think I outgrew them a while ago,” he says, his smile fading as he says it, the sadness that lingered in every conversation they had taking back over. He swallows thickly and looks at a picture of him and Aaron on the wall, a picture he has no memory of being taken, their smiles wide as they look at the camera. His gaze drifts towards the neighbouring picture, one of Emily sitting in a hospital bed with a tiny Stella asleep in her arms, Hugo and Leo on either side of her and Aaron with his arm around them all,  “I’m not mad at you for having them. Or for marrying Emily,” Jack says as he turns to look at Aaron, embarrassed over talking about his feelings in a way only a teenager could be, “I always used to worry about you being here by yourself.” 

“I was for a little while,” Aaron replies, his chest stuttering at the memory of it. How he was suddenly left with nothing, his son torn away from him by a man who had tried to ruin his life. For a long time, he thought that he had. He thought that Foyet had won, but he slowly picked up the pieces, and then eventually he let Emily help him do it too. Her touch delicate, her heart liable to damage in those early days on the sharper edges of what was left of him as she learnt where all his pieces went, “Before Emily.” 

“I wish I could have been a part of it.”

Aaron places his hand on Jack’s shoulder and squeezes, desperate to press a decade's worth of love into it, every moment they’d missed together in the air around them. “Me too,” he says, squeezing his shoulder again, “But you can be part of it now. You are part of it now.” 

Jack nods and pulls his father into a hug, his arms tight around him as he seeks out everything he hasn’t had in the last decade. Every single hug and kiss and bandaid pressed against a scraped knee pressed into one moment. Into one hug that, even two months ago, would have been the thing of a dream. A phantom embrace that would linger once they woke. An embrace neither of them would have been able to place, their memories of each other as out of date as they were faint. 

“Love you, Dad.” 

Aaron kisses his head and then holds him closer, his arms tight around his son as he soaked up as much of him as he could. Desperately reminding himself that he wasn’t losing him, not this time. He could call and text and visit, and that was something he would have prayed for just weeks ago. Whispered appeals to a god he didn’t believe in, hoping that someone was listening, to get him exactly what he had now.

“I love you too, Jack.”

___

Aaron smiles as Stella sinks into his side, both of her arms wrapped around one of his as she encourages him to turn the page of the book in his hands, the only other sound in the room Emily reading to Leo through the wall.

“On went the mouse through the deep dark wood. 

A snake saw the mouse, and the mouse looked good. 

"Where are you going to, little brown mouse? Come for a feast in my log pile house." 

"It's wonderfully good of you, Snake, but no – I'm having a feast with a Gruffalo."

“Daddy, you need to do the voices like Mommy,” Stella says, huffing like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, “Mommy says you’re like the Gruffalo. You should do the voice.” 

Aaron raises his eyebrow and looks down at his daughter, his smile amused when he’s met with her indignant expression, as if he were looking at a mini Emily, “Mommy says I’m like the Gruffalo?” 

She nods, “She says people think you look scary but you’re soft,” she frowns as she says it outloud, as if she’d never considered it before, “But I don’t think you’re scary.” 

“Neither does Mommy,” he comments under his breath, storing away the information to tease his wife with later, “You should have your eyes closed my little star,” he says, poking her nose, smiling when she scrunches it up, “You’re supposed to be going to sleep.”

“You’ll do the voices?” 

He sighs and nods, “I’ll do the voices,” he relents, wondering how he was once capable of staring down killers without blinking but was now entirely unable to argue with his toddler, “But close your eyes.” 

He carries on reading, making a point of doing the voices as she’d ask, unable to fight his smile as her giggles get quieter each time, her body heavier against his side. When he’s finished, he slips out from under her. He tucks her up, making sure her favourite toy is in her arms, and he leans down to kiss her forehead. 

“Love you, princess,” he says, kissing her forehead again before he steps away. 

“Daddy?” 

He pauses and turns back, her voice thick with sleep, her eyes barely open as she looks at him, “Yes, Stella?” 

“I’ll stay forever so you won’t be sad,” she says, her words slurred, seeping into each other as she loses her battle with sleep. 

He stands there in silence for a few moments, her innocent words creating an ache deep in his gut. He knows she means it now, that she couldn’t imagine a world where she was anywhere except by his and Emily’s side, but he already finds himself sad at the thought of her as a teenager. Every bit as beautiful and wilful as her mother as she pushed her limits. He wished they could all stay small forever. That they’d always be close enough for him to protect and keep safe. But he also loved to watch them grow, loved watching them become their own people. It was the one part of parenthood he struggled with, one that had been as sharp as it ever had as they waved Haley and Jack off that afternoon. 

“Sleep well, Stella,” he whispers even though she’s already asleep and he steps out into the hallway, blowing out a shuddering breath as he closes the door behind him. 

“Are you okay, honey?” 

He looks up at Emily and sighs, shrugging because he doesn’t really know how he feels. The familiar joy and sorrow he’d been used to over the last decade overwhelming him as he steps towards his wife, “I don’t know.” 

She smiles sadly as she closes the gap between them, wrapping her arms around him as she sinks against him. She rests her cheek against his chest and lets him hold her tightly, letting him take everything he needs. She shares her strength with him, lets it seep from her skin to his, just as he had for her countless times before - the give and take that was the bedrock of their marriage. 

“That’s okay,” she says, running her hand up and down his back, her palm warm against his skin as she sneaks it under his polo shirt, “I don’t think there is a right way to feel with all of this,” she smiles softly as she pulls back, her eyes soft as they meet his, “I’m proud of you though.” 

He furrows his brow, “Proud of me?”

She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip for a moment before she leans up to kiss him, her forehead against his when she pulls back, “You’re a good man. The best, actually,” she cups his cheek and kisses him again, “You let your son do what was best for him, even though it hurts.” 

He sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he nods, his forehead knocking lightly against hers, “We’ll see him again soon.”

It was a mantra of sorts, one they’d repeated again and again in the last week or so, and one they both knew they’d continue to repeat until it came true.

“We’ll see him again.” 

They stand in silence, wrapped up around each other outside their children’s bedrooms, seeking the comfort they’d only been able to find in each other. 

“Emily?”

She hums, “Yes, honey?” 

“What’s this I hear about me being like the Gruffalo?” 

___

June 2016

Emily smiles as the door to her hospital room opens, her hand stilling on Stella’s back for a moment as Aaron walks in, careful as he pulls the door closed behind him.

“The boys are okay?” She asks, turning her head to kiss Stella’s dark hair. Aaron nods and walks over to join them, sitting on the edge of the bed so he can be as close to his girls as possible.

“They are both obsessed with their little sister,” he says, kissing Stella’s head and then Emily’s cheek, “I have a feeling they’ll be talking Penelope’s ear off about her until she gets them to sleep tonight.”

Emily chuckles, “Well, Pen famously isn’t as strict with bedtime as we are,” she says, her smile soft as she looks down at their daughter, “And I can’t blame them for being obsessed with her. She’s perfect.” 

“Just like her Mommy,” Aaron replies, his smile wide when she rolls her eyes at him, her reaction to his softness as predictable as his words themselves. “Hugo was telling Leo all about how to be a good big brother.” 

She smiles, her cheeks and her heart aching with the happiness she still struggled to accept was hers some days. “They’re sweet,” she replies, smiling down at Stella, “I hope we get out of here tomorrow. I don’t want to spend any more time away from them than I need to.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “But you both had a rough time of it. So I’m not taking you home until the doctor says it’s okay.” 

Of the three labours she’d had, Stella’s had been the scariest. Everything had taken a turn quickly, more medical staff than she could count rushing into the room as the doctor gave her specific instructions to not push no matter how much it felt like she had to. Words like shoulder dystocia thrown around between doctors and nurses, the meaning behind them all of a sudden even more terrifying than they had been when Emily read them in one of the many books she’d bought when she was pregnant with Hugo. Aaron had been her rock, as ever, throughout it. Pushing past his own fear to help soothe her through hers, his words soft and his hold on her hand fierce until Stella was born just a couple of minutes later.

“You’re such a stickler for the rules.”

“When it comes to you and our daughter’s safety, always,” he replies, his eyebrow raised at her, his amusement clear even when hidden behind the lingering fear. She yawns, her lips pressed together as she tries to hide it, and he smiles, “Want me to take her for a while so you can sleep?”

She shakes her head and tightens her hold on Stella, “No,” she says, yawning again, “I’m not that tired. We’re okay.” 

If they hadn’t done this twice before, he knows he’d be offended. That he’d react to what would be easily misunderstood as mistrust if he didn’t know her better. He smiles and shifts closer, his hand over Emily’s on Stella’s back, “Sweetheart, you’ve been awake for close to two days. You need to sleep. And she’ll need feeding in an hour or two. I’ve got her. I’ve got both of you.” 

She wants to argue, but when she fights a third yawn in as many minutes she relents, her smile shy as she nods. She kisses Stella’s forehead and whispers her love against her skin before she passes her over, her hands clasped into fists to stop herself from snatching her back, “I guess I could do with resting my eyes for a bit.” 

He hums in agreement and stands up, Stella secure against his chest as he sits in the chair next to Emily’s bed. He settles down and is unsurprised to find Emily already fast asleep by the time he looks up, her mouth hanging slightly open, her head lulled to the side. He chuckles and tilts his head down to look at Stella. He takes the time to study her features, so many of them undeniably Emily’s already. 

“Mommy and Daddy love you so much, Stella,” he says, stroking his knuckles up and down her soft cheek, “And so do Hugo and Leo,” he smiles softly, “They were so excited to have a little sister.” He swallows thickly, the missing piece of their family never bigger than on days like this. Jack’s absence all the more notable as their family grew, the space he’d left behind not shrinking but growing. “And you have another brother, Jack,” he says, clearing his throat as he leans down to kiss the top of his little girl’s head, taking a moment to breathe in the sweet scent of what he knew would be his last baby, “He lives…far away. But he’s safe and I hope he’s happy. You’ll get to meet him,” he says, sounding more confident than he felt, unsure he could bear to think of the alternative. “One day. One day you’ll get to meet him.” 

Hope, he’d learnt over the years, was often the last thing to fade, stronger than its adversaries, and vast enough to bridge any divide. 

[popponn]

about couples and such. [bakugou katsuki x f!reader] + midoriya izuku

notes: i tried my best to get his (and midoriya's) personality right, for a little after that one fight. i hope i really get it right and it's still bakugou and midoriya in the end. it was fun to (try to) write tho. extra note: petty couple fights. please do not take this fic too seriously because i certainly did not.

Whenever Katsuki and you fight, Izuku always suffers.

Such was the rule of the universe—or so his classmates said. Shouto pat his back, Ochako tried to cheer him up, and Iida… tried his best. But, in the end, Izuku couldn’t exactly refute those words.

Though, recently, whenever the two of you fought, it became a whole dorm crisis.

“I hate him,” you said, sobbing into your knees as you curled up on top of the lounge sofa. Izuku wished there were others with him and you at the moment. Unfortunately, like traitors all of them were conveniently away and busy.

Izuku stuttered your name. “He-hey, don’t say it like that,” he managed a smile that ended up more as a grimace more than anything. With a patience of someone who had handled this sort of issue since the three of you were in kindergarten, Izuku continued, “I’m sure Kacchan didn’t mean any of the words he said.”

“He called me weak! A deadweight!” you screamed before throwing yourself to the green haired boy. Seasoned and trained, Izuku caught you and returned your hug with a sympathetic pat to the back. A part of him noted that Katsuki had called you worse things back in your youth, but he supposed ‘childhood friends’ status that had changed to ‘romantic partners’ would change things too. So, wisely, he didn’t comment.

“There, there,” was the only he thing he could said. If only ‘Kacchan’ was better at this whole dating thing…

“Hey.”

Izuku’s head did a sharp turn to his right. Talk about the devil and he shall appear, they say. Think about Bakugou Katsuki and he will appear like a ghost haunting the dorm, he says.

From his hug, Izuku felt you tried to discretely peaked at your boyfriend. Without seeing it, Izuku knew you were failing miserably. Katsuki, too, seemed to notice your stare and immediately met your eyes with his permanent glare. In response, you immediately hid your face on Izuku’s chest and hug him tigther.

If Izuku noticed Katsuki shifting that glare into a genuine one at him—no, he didn’t.

As Izuku tried to think what should he do now, that he was stuck in this unpleasant confrontation, Katsuki spoke, “Have you eaten yet?”

You, unsurprisingly, refused to reply. Instead, you hugged Izuku tighter as if such action would make Katsuki step away. It didn’t, it only got the two of your an even nastier glare.

Izuku, like a saint, answered in your stead. “Uh, she haven’t,” Izuku said, omitting the fact that you were skipping meals since yesterday because ‘Katsuki called you a deadweight in the middle of a training’. Your tantrum was as complicated as it was already and he would not at anything to that.

Katsuki stayed silent as he gave your form a once over. Izuku suddenly felt like a parent. Perhaps, this was where he should nudge the blond to apologize to you?

“You are not a deadweight,” Katsuki stated, suddenly but confidently. You suddenly stiffened like a stone in his arms. “There I said it, so hurry up, the fuck you want to eat?”

Izuku tried not to outwardly grimaced once again at that. He knew that you are a tough girl, but considering the circumstances at the moment since this argument started, he really wished Katsuki could be a bit gentler. You just complained at him for three hours about Katsuki’s ‘cute bastard’ way of talking while crying and Izuku really really didn’t want a sequel of that to enfold in front of the related person.

Luckily, this time, you responded to Katsuki. Slowly, you raised your head away from Izuku as your hold on him loosened. You still glared at the sofa, not meeting Katsuki’s gaze. Silently, you sent a side glance to the source of your irritation.

“Katsudon,” you answered, quick and hoarse after crying, before promptly returning to hug Izuku tightly. Izuku regretted not bringing a pillow or something else to avoid this fate.

At your answer, Katsuki made a sour face. Of course. That answer either came from your mind that was filled of curses ready to be hurled at Katsuki or because you simply wanted to jab at him through his name. Nonetheless, with a sigh, Katsuki dutifully turned away and walked towards the kitchen, “Fine.”

As he walked away, Izuku once again wished that the two of you could discuss this just so this fiasco could end faster. He held back a sigh and returned to patting you in the back.

“Izuku,” you mumbled to his clothes.

“Hm?” Izuku responded patiently.

“I don’t like arguing with Katsuki,” you said, your voice just above a whisper.

Izuku sagely nodded, having heard this for hundred times already each time the two of you fought, “I know, I know.”

“I will…” you trailed off, gently prying yourself away from Izuku. Your reddened eyes blinked a few times, before you finished your sentence. “…I will help Katsuki. He must be hungry too.”

Izuku didn’t have the chance to reply before you walked away, going to the kitchen. He stared at your direction, wondering if he should follow. Then, he remembered how it had always been—since you were little and since the three of you reconciled.

Learning from experience, Izuku chose to return to his room.

(If he heard a quiet chatter accompanied by peaceful clanging of pans and sizzles of seasonings from the kitchen, Izuku didn’t bother to listen and gave that moment to the two of you.)

[danjaley]

The Classic among the Classics: Heidi

I can't really compare editions for this one. Since it's German in the first place, there was never a need to replace the family copy. The outside is just yellow linen (there may have been a dust-jacket once), but it has these lovely illustrated front- and back-papers. My grandmother was always very outspoken about not liking the anime series, while I loved it. These images gave me an idea what she was going on about. It's the difference between stylized and realistic drawing.

The inside illustrations are not supposed to be coloured, but my mother changed that in her childhood. I adored her taste when I was small - the townhouse in the valley looks just like a palace, don't you think?

There's a story behind Alm-Öhi's pink suspenders here: At the time my grandfather was working in technical drawing and one day he took my young mother along to a store for professional drawing equipment. He told her if she was good she might pick something. She picked a pink felt pen, which she used for the Heidi colouring-project. It was excellent quality indeed. The pink hasn't faded one bit in all those years!

While I don't own any other editions, I found the two English sequels in a bookstore in Edinburgh while travelling. I didn't feel any great emotions about the plots. If anything they reminded me of the Chalet School books. It's a Very British Switzerland.

I already mentioned the anime series, which of course I watched as a child. It was the first tv-show I watched at all. Thanks to my grandparents' stubborn refusal to get colour-television, I even watched some episodes in black-and-white!

Very conveniently, my daily episode of Heidi was aired at the time I got home from Kindergarten. But: If I walked briskly, there was a chance the adult in charge would switch on the television early and I could catch the last minutes of Hal Foster's Prince Ironheart. I loved Heidi. But I also knew that when I grew up, I wanted to tell stories like Prince Ironheart. The result was Of Chevalry. But I haven't properly watched the Ironheart-series to the present day. I'm afraid of spoiling my memories of the few snippets I remember.

In 2022 there was an excellent exhibition of the Jewish Museum Munich about Heidi in Israel (image is theirs). I didn't know it's a huge classic there too. This was fascinating and right in line with my own research topic: How books can be interpreted and take on new meanings in times and countries far beyond the author's vision.

[drfirsnogayny]

Halloween sprites version

In my Kindergarten 3 AU, Halloween is a spin-off sequel, consisting of two or three quests, where children actually celebrate Halloween. If anything, the first three are variations of the Protagonist's costume. And let's admit that a ghost is the best costume.

And also a version based on someone else's AU, which I posted earlier.

Arts are here, canon characters are here