#make me regret moving across the country ALONE even more?!????

[i-am-thevoid]

someone broke into my fucking truck and there is glass EVERY FUCKING WHERE.

[tetsuissohot]

Toji Fushijuro ONESHOT

☆summary. After a painful breakup, Y/N thought she had moved on from Toji Fushiguro, but when he reappears in her life, old feelings resurface. Toji, determined to win her back, confesses his regret and desire for a second chance. As the two wrestle with unresolved emotions, Y/N faces the struggle between her lingering love for him and the fear of getting hurt again. In the midst of their heated confrontation, passion takes over, and Y/N must decide if Toji’s promises are enough to trust him once more.

☆warning/tags: 18+fem!reader, casual, SFW, building up tention, ex's to lovers?, part 1

☆word count:1.1k

☆a/n: This my first work lol, please be kind and tell me where I can get improve! I'm thinking of doing a second part for this oneshot where things get a bit spicier. I hope you enjoy!

part 2

The dimly lit bar was buzzing with the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses, but Y/N barely registered it. She stared blankly at the glass in her hand, swirling the amber liquid inside as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind—missions, responsibilities, and emotions she had long since buried.

But all of that seemed insignificant when he walked in.

Toji Fushiguro.

Y/N’s grip tightened around her glass at the sight of him. Even in the crowded bar, his presence was commanding—tall, broad-shouldered, and carrying an aura that both attracted and warned people to stay away. His dark green eyes scanned the room with a predator's calm until they landed on her. A smirk tugged at his lips.

He walked toward her, his steps confident and sure, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And maybe he did—Toji had always been direct, never one to beat around the bush. But it wasn’t his confidence that made Y/N’s heart race; it was the fact that seeing him again brought back memories she had worked so hard to suppress.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was deep, gruff, and achingly familiar.

Y/N didn’t bother looking up as she took another sip of her drink. “It’s a free country.”

Unfazed by her cold response, Toji pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, his eyes never leaving her face. He leaned back casually, arms draped over the chair like he had all the time in the world.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

Y/N finally met his eyes, her expression unreadable. “I’m not avoiding you, Toji. We’re just... done. I thought we both agreed on that.”

Toji’s smirk faded, and his face took on a seriousness that Y/N hadn’t seen in a long time. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Maybe you did. I didn’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to stay composed. “You were the one who walked away,” she reminded him, her voice steady. “You were the one who said this—we—weren’t meant to last.”

Toji’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening. He remembered that day all too well. The bitter words he had thrown at her, the way he had convinced himself that he was better off alone—that she was better off without him. But now, sitting across from her, the regret felt like a weight pressing down on his chest.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted, his voice softer now, laced with something Y/N wasn’t used to hearing from him—vulnerability. “I thought it would be easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”

Y/N scoffed, setting her glass down with a clink. “Easier? You think walking out without an explanation made things easier for me?”

Toji winced, his usual unshakable demeanor faltering. He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to being the one in the wrong. But he knew he couldn’t sugarcoat it, couldn’t charm his way out of this like he did with everything else.

“You deserved better,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I was messed up. Still am, probably. But…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here because—dammit—I want you back.”

Y/N stared at him, shock flashing across her face before she quickly masked it with indifference. “You don’t get to just come back after disappearing, Toji. I moved on.”

Toji’s eyes darkened, the idea of her moving on hitting him harder than he anticipated. He wasn’t used to losing—especially not to someone else. The thought of Y/N with anyone else made his blood boil, but he forced himself to calm down.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said slowly, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m asking for a second chance.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to keep the walls she had built around her heart intact. “You can’t just walk back into my life whenever it’s convenient for you. I’ve been fine without you, Toji.”

He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming. “Have you? Because I haven’t been.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words settle over her. Toji was never one to admit weakness, never one to let his guard down. But here he was, laying it all out in front of her, as raw and honest as she’d ever seen him.

“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice rough. “It’s not. I’m no good at this… at us. But I’m trying, Y/N. I’ve spent every day since we split wishing I hadn’t walked away.”

Y/N could feel the cracks forming in her defenses. She wanted to be angry—was angry—but there was something in Toji’s eyes that made it hard to hold onto that anger. She’d never seen him like this, so exposed.

“Toji…” Y/N began, but her voice faltered, unsure of what to say.

“Just tell me there’s still something there,” Toji said, his voice almost pleading now. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she searched his face, her emotions swirling in a storm of confusion, anger, and longing. She had loved him once—loved him deeply. And even though she had tried to move on, a part of her had never really let go.

But was that enough?

“You hurt me,” Y/N said quietly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. “And I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

Toji’s face softened, his hand reaching out across the table, hesitating before he touched hers. When his fingers finally brushed against her skin, it was tentative, as if he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch her anymore.

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. “But I won’t make that mistake again. I swear.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken feelings. Y/N looked down at his hand on hers, feeling the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his gaze.

She had every reason to push him away, to tell him it was too late. But in the depth of her heart, she knew that despite everything, she still cared for him.

“I need time,” Y/N finally said, her voice soft but firm. “I’m not promising anything, Toji. But… I’ll think about it.”

Relief flooded Toji’s face, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled—really smiled. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

As they sat there in the dim light, their hands still touching, Y/N realized that maybe second chances weren’t always about forgetting the past. Sometimes, they were about finding a way to move forward—together, despite the scars.

And maybe, just maybe, Toji Fushiguro was worth the risk.

Thank you for reading xoxo

MASTERLIST

[randombush3]

take me home

alexia putellas x reader

notes: idek i was just bored. i don’t even like this 😬

words: 2247

summary: it’s late, but you have a visitor you can’t turn away. (think ‘style’ by taylor swift)

warnings: (repurposed) smut. i don’t wanna talk abt that shocking portion of the fic tho so shh

The nights are lonelier than you had expected them to be when you moved here. Barcelona to London was a big change – a scary one, though it is difficult for your pride to let you admit that.

You, with your ambition, lost sight of what was supposedly tying you down, paying it as much attention as the other person in the relationship was. When you left, nothing really changed. You haven’t heard from her since.

So, as you sit in front of your TV, the bright colours of Sex Education illuminating the white walls of your otherwise dark apartment, you ask yourself once more why you are surprised. Why, every time you spend an evening alone, attempting to master the English language, your heart can’t help but crack a little bit more.

Eyes growing wearier by the minute, you cheat your immersion by texting a friend: no one particularly interesting. She is telling you about her vision for a song. A pianist she heard the other day has inspired her, and she wants your help. You often lend an experienced hand to the ones who need guidance when it comes to producing, but it’s midnight and you can’t be bothered at all. You realise that, in Spain, she must be out in the warmth of the city’s night, sitting on someone or other’s balcony, smoking a cigarette. A quick once-over of your own situation prods at a regret you have decided to ignore.

You’re in London for a reason.

The grating chirp of your buzzer causes your phone to be flung from your grip, landing on the rug beneath your bare feet with a soft, muted thud. Another ring of the buzzer has you groggily heading towards the intercom to the left of your door (painted red since yesterday, as urged by your mother who is all for personalising and making a place feel like home).

“Hello?” you question, too lazy to consider the shockingly short list of potential visitors.

The voice that replies wakes you up, practically setting your body aflame, syllables washing over you as though they come from the font at the altar. Holy. Well, you decide that they are equals.

And, oddly enough, despite moving to another country – despite leaving without saying goodbye, tears in your eyes only cried once your backs had been turned against each other, hands on either side of a door that wasn’t going to open again – you obey her command, slipping on your shoes without hesitation. You step into the lift, examining your tired reflection in the smudged mirror, wondering whether licking your thumb and smoothing out your eyebrows is really going to fix the dark eyebags that act like reverse eyeshadow on your face.

The car that waits outside your building, shadily parked by the pavement across the road, honks once, headlights off. You sigh, accepting your fate, and cross, pulling at the handle of the passenger side, opening the door onto a potentially disastrous night.

“Hola,” says Alexia. Her hair is loose, falling around her shoulders in professional curls. She is in London for a reason, too. From her white shirt and silk trousers, you deduce the kind of reason.

The air is tense, thick with unsaid words and the knowledge of what happened when you last spoke, but you slide onto the leather seat of the rented Audi anyway. “Hola,” you say back. She drives.

There are many questions you’d like to ask her, the first being how she found your address. They sit on your tongue; hopeful, waiting to be said. You swallow and succumb to the heavy silence, listening to the whir of the engine and roll of the tires on the wet tarmac of the roads she drives you down.

She has no map. She knows not where she is taking you, nor why she came in the first place. (The latter is a lie. She misses you. She tells herself she doesn’t.) In truth, she is surprised you don’t notice how she is going round in circles. Maybe you don’t get out much. Maybe you are just as miserable as she has been.

You moved away eight months ago. She has craved your presence for nine. No, ten. Maybe even for a lifetime.

Maybe you feel the same, though she wouldn’t know.

Maybe you want to come home.

Maybe leaving her has only shown you what was always there. What is no longer waiting for you in your apartment after late-night studio sessions or long, draining meetings. What is not a set weekend plan anymore: football matches; dinners with her team; nights at clubs together, dancefloor commandeered and dominated, dingy bathroom not long after. Then, Alexia realises that she has gambled, and that bets can be lost.

Though, if you had found someone else to dance with – to love, really – you’d probably be with them right now.

She wants to say something. Apologise, perhaps. Or ask how you are, solely to discover your current relationship status.

You get there first.

“It’s been a while since I have heard from you.”

She glances across the dashboard, turning right onto a long, tree-lined drive, not caring whether this may be trespassing. It’s hard to look at the road when she could be looking at you instead.

“I have been busy,” she offers.

“I see.”

She bites her tongue, eyes squinting in frustration with herself. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens, though you hardly notice, too occupied with searching for your self-control. You’ve never been blessed with much of it, but it exists within you to a certain extent. Surely.

You know you are wrong when she parks once more outside of your building, this time getting out. You follow suit, taking her hand wordlessly, leading her inside.

Instead of looking into the mirror, she presses you up against it, hands on your hips as you nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Her eyes are wild, and you’d think she were drunk if she hadn’t been driving you around for the past twenty minutes. You don’t have to tell her to kiss you. She already knows what to do.

The lift doors open on your floor. You tug her out, taking her home. To your home – a word no longer shared between the two of you.

Your apartment is as dark as you left it, Netflix asking if you are still there as it interrupts Sex Education. You are now accidentally on the next episode.

She laughs quietly when she sees the TV, mouth opening against yours, sound in your mouth as you work to be consumed by her. You’ll probably regret this tomorrow morning.

Alexia takes off her coat, draping it over the back of the sofa. You smile to yourself, choosing to not be conflicted by how comfortable she is here. She knows you well. You like to tidy on your own, and you will set aside her coat somewhere else later. She gives you the freedom – the break in your kiss – to tell her to redress. To get out.

She waits a second more when it does not come.

You undo the top button of her shirt while she stands, paused in your new apartment, breathing in the lingering smell of fresh paint. There are scuff marks on the skirting boards, and she is reminded that it has been eight months. That you have had time to create another life here. It seems as though you, now onto the second button, still manage to mould yourself around her, however.

“Ale,” you murmur, tracing your pinkie finger across the exposed skin of her chest. “It’s okay. I…”

And she heavily relates to your failure to get the words out.

Instead of bearing the silence that should follow, she ignores the alarm bell in her head that warns her not to break her heart all over again, and leans in to kiss you once more, lips soft and familiar and addictive.

Your body feels electric against hers as she kisses you harder and harder. Your mind, for once, is at peace. The first time it has been since you moved here.

You take her to your bedroom, kissing your way down her neck as she lifts your hoodie over your head, muscular arms well-versed in this action. There have been others, you’ve heard.

Topless, you sit on your bed, crumpling the fresh sheets. “I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl,” you say, catching your breath. She stands in front of you, looking down, eyes fixed on yours despite the cleavage on display being such a tempting exhibit.

There is guilt here with the two of you, now. She wants to make you feel like you are the only person in the world, but she knows you won’t believe her.

“What you heard is true,” she replies, reluctant to admit it. “But I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You scoff, lying back anyway. She kneels over you, a leg either side of your waist. “I’ve been there too. A few times.” The pang of jealousy that strikes her low in her stomach spurs her on as she reconnects her lips with yours.

You watch as concentration takes over her, letting her touch you, kiss you, caress you. You haven’t even told her to slow down. If anything, you wish she’d speed up and just get to it already, remembering just how good she makes you feel.

She explores your body like she knows it but wants to learn it all over again, kissing the scars and the freckles and the tattoos that litter your body, all equally important features of the woman that sends her soaring above the clouds. You keen under her touch, whining as your patience depletes.

“Please,” you breathe. Alexia slides down your body, her lips skimming the hollow of your throat. You gasp as she kisses the valley between your breasts, the slight tickle of her hands ghosting your ribs making you feel a thousand things at once.

It all crashes into one as she kisses you over your underwear. Your hand laces through her hair, tousling it. You prefer that over how her stylist does it, anyway.

Her lips brush the waistband of the black fabric, hooking her fingers underneath the elastic, giggling at the way you raise your hips in anticipation. Instead, she chooses to swipe through your folds, circling your clit as you protest half-heartedly. You grip the bedsheets as her fingers dip inside of you, tucking and curling. “Good?” Your back arches as at the welcome invasion. You silently beg for her to leave you more breathless than you already are. She somehow hears your thoughts and inches your underwear down, slotting herself between your thighs, lying on her stomach.

Warm lips caress your inner thigh, teasingly making you ask her for more through your involuntary moans. Alexia’s hot breath ghosts over your clit. “Joder,” you swear. You crane your head up to watch at the first bold swipe of Alexia’s tongue against you. Her lips are hotter than her breath as she kisses you, open-mouthed and needily. Her tongue glides through your wetness, stopping at your entrance. Another urgent moan spills from your lips as her tongue slips inside of you, her hands cupping your bum, bringing you closer to her.

You squeeze your eyes shut, death-gripping whatever you can hold onto, as her tongue makes its way up to your clit. The disappointing emptiness is not felt for long; tongue quickly replaced by two skilled fingers. You groan as she curls inside of you.

Your orgasm builds, months overdue. You grind into her.

She pulls away.

Your eyes flicker open at the loss of contact. “What?” you pant.

She kneels up and brings her hand to her mouth, her soft lips enveloping her glistening fingers. Her eyes stare up at yours, intense and lustful, her lips turning upwards in a devilish smile. It is the sexiest thing you have ever seen.

Her hair hangs down as she leans over you, shirt still just as done-up as it was when you had last been focused on things other than how good it feels to have Alexia between your legs. The pause, hot and breathy, enables her to pull the white material off, lacy bralette barely covering anything.

You undo the clasp at the back expertly, throwing the bralette somewhere that will prolong her nakedness in your bed. You groan, a common sound now, at the sight of her, hands cupping her breasts as she grows bashful.

When her thigh connects with your centre, she loses her shyness. She can feel how wet you are, and, really, she feels sorry for you.

Once more, she slips her fingers inside you, adding another this time. Your back curves upwards, your muscles trembling. Alexia’s free hand rests on your navel, holding you down as her tongue swirls around your clit.

She sends you reeling; catapulting you head-first into a land of bliss.

When you have both showered — much, much later — you let her distance herself from you in your bed. She’s a stranger now, you tell yourself.

Alexia leaves London the next day, with no plea to take you home with her.

You spend another evening in front of the TV, deciding that yesterday was only a blip in your routine. But, you know, deep down, that she will be back. Or vice versa. You’ll never go out of style.

[wolffwish]

The Touch of a Hand Lit the Fuse

Summary: You joined Professor Wolff’s class a little over a month ago, but being as shy as you are, haven’t made any real friends yet. He spots you eating lunch alone in the classroom and decides to keep you company.

Warnings: Professor Wolff x student!reader, smut, daddy/baby girl kink, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, choking, everything.

It had been around 6 weeks since you moved across the country and accepted an offer to Harvard. You still couldn’t believe it, that all those years of sleepless nights would have you walking through those Business School doors every morning. You hadn’t made any real friends yet due to your schedule being non stop, and as you couldn’t find a table in the cafeteria, you decided to stop by your classroom to see if it was empty, and it was.

You sat at a table closest to Professor Wolff’s desk, just because it was the furthest away from the door, laid out your lunch in front of you and began toying with the apple you almost regret packing. You took your phone from your pocket and started looking at notes for your next lesson.

Deep in thought, taking in all of your bullet points you’d written last week, you startled as you heard the door open behind you. You turned, only to see none other than your Professor standing in the doorway. His white shirt tucked into his grey trousers showing off his slim but muscular frame, with his suit jacket draped over his arm.

“Oh sorry, y/n, I didn’t realise you were—“

“Shit, sorry, I mean uh, I didn’t know anyone was going to come in, I’ll go, sorry, just give me to secs to put—“ You started scrambling around all of your stuff, attempting to pack it all away when you heard footsteps approaching you.

“Y/n, please, don’t leave on my account. Why are you eating in here all alone?” Toto questioned, a gentle hand placed on your shoulder as if to slow you down.

“I uh, I… I don’t really have any friends yet, and the cafeteria was full, it’s fine, I’ll just go eat outside or in—“

“It’s raining. See?” Professor Wolff stopped you in your tracks and gestured to outside, a grim monsoon-like day that had lasted for about a week. There was no way you could eat outside, and you knew that. You just couldn’t muster up any words that made any sort of sense when you had him towering over you.

He pulled up a seat next to you, albeit uninvited, but you weren’t going to put up a fight. He could sit there all day if he wanted to. He was so tall, handsome as hell, his hair perfectly messy and his white shirt hugging all the right places. You couldn’t help but look him up and down as he popped his jacket on the table next to your lunch and took his glasses off.

He broke the silence.

“So tell me… what’s a kind, pretty girl like you doing with no friends?” He smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing. His fingers ran along his collar as he straightened it out, revealing more of that gorgeous broad neck of his.

“I—“ You couldn’t think. He was literally piercing you with his handsome looks and powerful demeanour. You took off your glasses, which lead to some of your hair getting caught in them, and a few strands of hair messing over your face, resting on your eyelashes. You tried to get them off, but your flustered face and shaking hands meant you were just making a fool of yourself.

“Allow me?” Professor Wolff raised his hand towards your face, and with your nod of permission, gently removed your hair from your eyelashes and tucked it behind your ear. When your face was fully revealed, you made eye contact. His eyes went from your eyes, down to your mouth, and back up to your eyes. “So beautiful…” he whispered, as he removed his hand from behind your ear, gently caressing a finger along your jawline along to your chin.

Was he flirting? Or was he just being friendly? At this point, you were in such a haze you didn’t even know your last name. What do you say at this point? Do you stand up and walk out? Do you ask him a question about his next lecture? Ask him about his life, family, friends, colleagues?

You panicked, and a quick movement from you suddenly had your hand resting on top of his, just below your chin. “Do you treat all of your students you see eating lunch alone like this?” You whispered back to him, hoping you were on the same page.

He smirked, looking at your lips again, and back to your eyes. “Do you question all of your Professor’s that want to keep you company at lunch?” You giggled back— “I guess not.”

Your hand still resting on his as he placed it on his knee, he looked down at it and began stroking the top of your hand with his thumb. He breaks the short silence, “You’re really special, you know that, right? I see how you are in class and I just… I just want to…”

“Do it.” You interrupted him. You thought this was your chance, it’s now or never. You weren’t kidding yourself anymore, you’ve had the hots for this man since you first laid eyes on him. He was making all the moves. You knew it was wrong, but why did it feel so right?

The hunger in his eyes poured out of him as he leaned forwards, locking his lips with yours. A fast paced but sensual kiss, tongues tied with eachother and breathless words mustered between biting of lips.

“Table. Now.” he beckoned, pulling himself away from you. He began unbuttoning his white shirt as he looked you up and down like he was about to dine on you like a three course meal.

You hastily stood up, perching yourself on the edge of the table. Your short sleeved, short button down summer dress was the best decision you made this morning.

Unsure of what to do with your legs, you scurried around for a chair to perch them on. Knees together but feet apart, you shyly tried to pull your dress down as you weren’t familiar with this entire scenario.

He shook his head as he looked down on you, his shirt now unbuttoned all the way and his arms peeling your knees apart. “No no, legs apart for me, that’s it…” you hesitantly separated your legs and took a deep breath in, trying to compose yourself.

“Are you sure we won’t get caught…?” you asked him, looking at the clock behind him. He turned around, checked the time, then turned back to face you. His voice sounding deeper than before, he chuckled to himself… “We have 20 minutes until class starts. I’m sure that’s enough time, don’t you think?”

You nodded and waited for his lead. He moved closer to you, his body in-between your legs as he began lifting your dress up towards your hips. The gentle touch of his fingertips up your inner thighs gave you goosebumps, causing your whole body to tremble under his touch. He flicked his fingers over your already wet panties and teased your sweet spot through the fabric. “Already so wet for me… huh? How about we take these off now?” He hooked both index fingers around the top of your panties and pulled them down your legs, off your ankles and tucked them into the back pocket of his suit trousers. He looks you dead in the eyes, rested one hand on the side of your neck as the other made its way up your thigh. You gasped as his fingers reached your folds, and he began teasing your entrance with his two middle fingers. As he pushed further in to your slick wet pussy, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your neck leant back, as you felt a rush of heat overcome you. He leant down, and kissed your open neck softly. “You like that, baby? You like it with my fingers deep inside you?”

You nodded, eyes shut and lips pressed together trying to hold in your moans. You were terrified to make a sound, through fear of being caught. This was dangerous territory, and someone could walk in at any moment.

Not satisfied with your response, Professor Wolff brought his face up to look at you. “Look at me. Look. Eyes on me.” He demanded, as his fingers thrusted in and out of you with ease, you could almost hear the slickness from your insides drowning his fingers. “I need you to use your words, baby. Come on, tell me… tell me.”

You locked eyes with him and breathed out, your breath caressing his lips like it was a drug to him. “It’s… it’s so fucking good, oh god, it’s so good… please don’t sto—“

You could feel your walls spasming inside you as his long, thick fingers slammed into your g-spot. You were close to exploding on him, and you were so fucking turned on that you didn’t think it was this possible to be this horny, certainly not over your Professor.

“You’re doing so good baby, that’s it. Hold on just a little bit longer for me, I didn’t say you could cum yet, did I…?” He teased, pulling his fingers out slowly and slamming them in hard. He brought his lips to yours, entering his tongue into your mouth as your foreheads met. It was like you were made for eachother, the way you kissed him wasn’t like kissing other guys. This was different. There was a hunger in both of you that couldn’t be tamed, like this whole thing had been a long time coming.

“Please” you begged, “fuck me, f, fuck me right now—“

“Please what?” He questioned. “Please isn’t going to cut it.” He scowled, fingers slamming into you at a fast pace once again. “I need to hear you say it.”

You wanted to say it, you really did. It had been on the tip of your tongue the entire time he’d been fucking you with his fingers, but you weren’t sure if it was right. Or if it’s what he wanted to hear. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, waiting for your response.

“Not so desperate now, huh? Shall we call it a day then, miss?” He licked his fingers dry of your juices and smirked at the taste of you.

There you were, legs spread on his desk and he was… calling it a day? Because you’d gone quiet…? Or because he was having second thoughts? Every scenario ran through your head. You were scared to look at him if you did pluck up the courage to say it, so you laid your whole body down on the table, making sure your dress was lifted up high enough to reveal some of your stomach.

“Please, fuck me Daddy…”

Silence filled the room. Suddenly the rain started sounding like angry stones being thrown at the window as you waited for a response. You could sense he was still there, and without a single world, you heard the clanging of a belt clasp unbuckling, and the fabric of his suit trousers being slid down his legs. Did he like it?

“There it is, there’s my confident girl…” he growled, as he knelt down. He began kissing up your inner thighs, tracing his tongue along your hot skin all the way to your shining pussy. His hands made their way up your dress, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples as his mouth locked around your clit. His tongue making beautiful patterns at your entrance and finally into your pussy, as you felt him kiss and suck you, pleasure like you’d never felt it before.

“Holy shit, Professor, oh my god…” your breathing became erratic as you bucked your hips at the feel of his tongue on the walls of your pussy. You feel the movement of his head shake side to side. He lifted his head away, bringing one hand down from your breast to your pussy and sliding a finger in. He massages your walls, getting you absolutely soaked. “Try again baby girl… that’s not what I’m called now, is it?” He kissed your thigh again, waiting for your response.

You were out of breath and you’d almost reached your climax twice in the last 10 minutes. You couldn’t think of any words, let alone string a sentence together. “Daddy… fuck, please, need your cock so bad…”

Toto was so fucking turned on, now it was his turn to be at a loss for words. He quickly stood up, drawing his cock out of his white Armani boxers and gave it a few slow tugs. “You want this, huh?” He teased, looking down at his rock hard cock near your entrance. He could see your pleading eyes, almost crying in desperation as you lifted up your head to get a better look at his cock. “Fuck… it’s so big.” You’re shocked. You knew it would be big, but shit… you were about to be torn in half.

He smirked, stepping closer to you and rubbing the tip over your clit. Precum beading on the tip, he used his thumb to wipe off the remnants and bought it up to your face. “Suck.” He demanded. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, and he placed the pad of his thumb on your tongue and fingers under your chin. “That’s it… good girl baby, suck for Daddy.”

Your cheeks went hollow as you sucked his thumb as he demanded. You shut your eyes and tried to concentrate on the taste of his precum, and fuck it tasted good. You could only imagine what the real thing tasted like.

As you opened your mouth to take a breather, you felt his entire body shift, and with one long thrust, he entered his full length into your tight pussy. You both let out an elongated moan, your pussy clamping onto his throbbing cock. He tried to stay upright, but his desire to kiss you overwhelmed him so he brought both your knees up higher and lifted his weight onto you. His hips began long, slow thrusts into you. With each slam, the pain of his thick cock lessened and become a lot more pleasurable. He locked his eyes with yours as you could see his shoulders tensing as he held himself up. “So… fucking… tight…” he claimed, as you both looked down at him fucking you senseless. Sweat began beading on his ripped body. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…” he beckoned as he leant down to kiss you on the lips. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and began rocking your hips up to match his rhythm of thrusts. “So good Daddy, so good…” you mumbled inbetween kisses.

As you bucked your hips up to meet his, his cock met your sweet spot deep inside you and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. “Fuck, I’m so close…” you whimpered. His face was now buried in your neck, sucking gently on your bare skin.

“So good for me baby, that’s it, oh god… keep fucking doing that with your hips, whatever you’re doing, fuck…” now he was begging you, as you continued your momentum of hip rocking so every time he thrusted in, you bucked your hips up to make sure he was as deep as he could be.

There was now a slick layer of sweat between your bodies as you both got closer to your climax’s. You were desperate for your Professor to cum inside you as you let go of your climax too… desperate for him to fill you up to the brim.

The intense fucking he was giving you was out of this world. The sound of him fucking you, the wetness of your pussy. You could feel his balls slamming you hard, too. It was almost an out of body experience, and you didn’t want it to ever end. You were fucked. Absolutely fucked.

As he gave you another kiss, you brought your hands up to his neck and began running your perfectly French-manicured nails through his hair and down his neck and back. “Daddy… I… need you to fill me up… need your cum in me…”

Those words were like a drug to him. He began thrusting you harder, his cock almost sliding out of you he was thrusting that high and hard. You felt your walls clamping round his cock and he could clearly feel it too, as you could feel him reaching his pinnacle. “Daddy… fuck I’m cumming… please, togeth—“ “Oh baby, shit… god I’m gonna fucking cum… fuck… ah fuck!!!”

Your walls clamped around him so hard as you felt spurts of his hot cum shoot up deep inside you. His entire body tensed as he bit on the side of your neck, trying to hold himself together yet jolting at the feel of both your orgasms intertwining with one another.

“Holy shit, baby… that was fucking…”

“…so good…” you finished his sentence for him as your breathing became slower and calmer. You placed your hand gently on top of his head and caressed his hair between your fingers, massaging his scalp as he calmed down.

His cock still inside you, he adjusted himself so he was pushed up on his arms above you. “You’re incredible.” He said, kissing your lips, “so perfect”, then inbetween your breasts. He stood up, slowly sliding his cock out of you and watching both his and your cum pour out of you.

“Fuck!!!” you gasped as you tried to catch it by crossing your legs. “It’s so messy… I’m sorry..” you bolted up right, a slight head rush from getting up too quickly as you embarrassingly attempted to covered yourself.

“Hey hey… little one. It’s okay, don’t worry.” Toto crouched down so he was at your eye level. He kissed your forehead and brought you in for a cuddle, your head resting on his chest. Your adrenaline come-down was hitting you hard, your body was hot to the touch but you were trembling and felt freezing cold. You could hear his heart beating…Still pretty fast, but not as fast as earlier. You began breathing hard again, panic setting in as you realised what had just happened. Was it wrong? Was he going to regret this? He could sense you were going into some sort of shock just by your ever growing symptoms. “Hey, little one… look at me” he moved you away from his chest, locking eyes with you. “Head to the bathroom and get cleaned up. I’ll excuse you from next lesson if you need to take 10 minutes. Make sure you eat something too, okay?”

You nodded and attempted to stand up, albeit a bit like Bambi as your legs were still like jelly. “Take it easy… don’t you realise you just had a good fucking from your Professor…?” He giggled as he steadied you and kissed the top of your head. “Don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking.”

You panicked. Shit. He was a mind reader now, too?

“I won’t regret this. If anything, I’ll regret only doing it once.”

You smiled as you looked up at him. “Wait… seriously?” You we’re shocked, sweaty, a bit of a mess. You thought there’s no way he could want this again, surely it was a one off?

“Maybe next time we take it somewhere more comfortable, if that sounds good to you?” Toto smiled as he slid his boxers back on, then his trousers and tightened his belt. He reached into his back pocket. “Oh, your panties?” He pulled them out to show them to you. You went to grab them, and he pulled his hand away. “I’ll keep these… you can collect them next time. And give me a new pair. Deal?”

You looked at the soaking wet panties in his hand, then back up to his face. You nodded, not saying a word, as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door. You looked back, and could see him buttoning up his white shirt. He gave you a quick wink, before you exit the room, to the sound of the University bell signalling for next lesson.

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

Hello I hope I'm not bothering you but and I hope this isn't a triggering question but how would teagan react to the mc absolutely hating them after the breakup like they don't want him anywhere near them and will not hesitate to call the police on him or just straight up pepper spray/taze him/judo toss him on the ground if he gets near and how would the other characters react to the mc and their intense hated of teagan I'm just curious cause I know this is how some people I know would react to a toxic ex like teagan

Don't be silly, of course you're not bothering me! I love getting asks from people interested in learning more about my characters, it makes me really happy to receive them! <3 ____

Honestly, after the initial break up Teagan decided to give you a little space to cool off since the break up was pretty brutal emotionally on you both. Though, what they didn't expect was for you to move out and travel halfway across the country to a god forsaken island, even if it is Saint Anne's.

If you were still livid and refused to talk to them/ engage at all they would be pissed. Of course they would try to play nice at first, but once it was clear that it wasn't going to work they would switch tactics.

They would try to manipulate the others into helping them smooth things over with you. That there was a huge misunderstanding and you BOTH needed to talk to get closure. Depending on how you both play your cards, some of the more gullible love interests could possibly be tricked into helping Teagan get you alone so you can "smooth" things over. (Granted that's only if you didn't tell them everything that went down between you two.)

If that plan failed, they would have no choice but to MAKE you listen whether you wanted to or not. They'd stalk, harrass, and blackmail you into listening and engaging with them. They refuse to let you go, why else would they come all this way? No, they WILL make sure you come back with them, one way or another. ____ As for the love interest's reactions, this is how they'd react if their first introduction to Teagan was of you viciously attacking or threatening them.

Garret would immediately step in between you two, effectively shielding you from them, stare them down, and tell them to leave before he made sure they'd regret it. What the FUCK did they do to you to make you react like that? He'd try to get the story from you later on, and regardless if you told him or not he'd personally make sure Teagan NEVER bothered you again.

Marcelo would be stunned by your vitriol, but protectively step in between you two and try to assess the situation. Once you told him they were an ex, his attitude would shift and he'd definitely become more protective and lead you away, warning Teagan to get lost. He'd insist that you called him if Teagan ever showed their face around you again and he and his friends would make sure to take care of them for you.

Camilla would honestly be shocked. Who on earth could make her otherwise calm and sweet roommate this angry? She'd quickly step in and immediately have your back. You could fill her in on the details later, there was no way you'd act this way unless you had a good reason to. Of course, once you did fill her in on the detail she would join in on the hostility towards them, both in person and online.

While Rita would initially be surprised by your reaction, She'd probably grab your arm, and gently hold you back because there's no way she was about to let you get some charges filed against you. Though, once you filled her in on the details, she would become scarily cold and firm towards Teagan. A terrifying silent rage would overcome her and YOU would actually want to remove her from the situation in fear of what she could possibly be capable of. Once Teagan was out of the equation, it would take some time before Rita calmed down enough to apologize for her reaction and make sure you were okay and that you know you can rely on her if Teagan ever bothered you again.

[goofysimpleton]

Keith Howell

Main Route Chapter 1

~This translation is not 100% accurate. Just here for you fellow impatient friends.

N= Narration

⬛️=whenever the next text showed up

I have the characters address Belle as MC for main character.

Choices are bold. The selection I picked is blue.

Scene 1

N: I have nothing but regrets.

Keith: “...Ah.”

N: The pounding rain drowned out his hoarse voice. ⬛ Golden eyes make a clear red road and he stares at it. ⬛ I– ⬛ The reality in front of me mercilessly lowers my body temperature more than the cold rain, ⬛ My outstretched hand, wishing it was a dream, was trembling unbecomingly.

Kieth: “....No. No…”

N: I– ⬛ I–

Keith: “...Ah…”

N: A pain pierced my heart. ⬛ I hold onto the chest area of my clothes so tightly that my fingers turn white. ⬛ The pain stopped immediately. ⬛ Alone in a forest where only the harsh sound of rain reverberates, my muddy body crouches and does not move.

Keith: “...” ⬛ “...” ⬛ “...Ahaha.”

N: An amusing laugh that was out of proportion to the situation spilled out.

Keith: “What? If it had broken down sooner, ‘I’ would’ve killed it.”

N: He slowly stood up and frustratedly brushed his wet hair. ⬛ The emptiness was like a beast that was nowhere to be seen, with sharp, cold eyes and a smile on his lips.

Keith: “I will… Make it come true.”

N: The day after official permission was obtained from both faction leaders, the three princes were permitted to stay in Rhodolite.

Keith: “Miss MC, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry!”

N: I was enjoying a tea party with Keith across a table lined with sweets– That was supposed to be the case.

Keith: “I was very rude to you at the goodwill party.” ⬛ “At the time, um, I was upset, or rather, it was because I was too nervous.” ⬛ “No, even if that’s the case, there’s no such need to grab someone’s head.

(Weird behavior…)

Flashback Keith: “What is it, you? Look at me seriously.” ⬛ “Don’t make that stupid face. Don’t you want to bully me?”

(It’s true that he seemed like a different person and it was a perfect fit, but…)

Keith: “If a guy like this, who is 183 cm tall and has a huge body, did that to me, I would hate it.” ⬛ “Really… I’m really sorry.”

N: His majestic body crouched down helplessly and his face was so pale that I thought he had fallen into a river in the middle of winter. ⬛ About an hour after the tea party started, I received a storm of apologies from Keith.

MC: “Keith, I accept your apology so would you like to end this story?” ⬛ “At the time, I also started at you impudently.” ⬛ “Besides, my heart can’t hold any more words of apology!”

N: This situation of receiving apologies from the prince of a country, and even a foreign country, is so heartbreaking that it seems like a kind of ordeal. ⬛ Keith noticed me muttering and moved his hands restlessly.

Keith: “S-Sorry! I apologized without thinking about your feelings, and I’m really sorry for the inconvenience.” ⬛ “Ah, I apologized again. I’m sorry…”

MC + Keith: “...”

Scene 2

MC + Keith: “...”

N: The sound of flowers swaying in the wind and the awkward air surrounded us. ⬛ After Keith’s gaze wandered so much that he became worried, he slowly picked up a plate.

Keith: “T-This galette! Miss MC, you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” ⬛ “It’s thick and filling, so if you don’t mind…”

MC: “Thank you very much. Then, I’ll eat it.”

(Perhaps you were trying to change the subject?)

N: When I ate a bite-sized thick galette, ⬛ As if to continue, Keith also took off his gloves and brought the galette to his mouth with his long, angular fingers. ⬛ Crunchy texture, spreading saltiness and buttery taste made my mouth melt.

(At any rate, Keith suddenly invited me to a tea party, so I was prepared.) ⬛ (I never thought a storm of apologies would be waiting…)

N: What happened in my head was what happened a few hours ago.

—--------------------------

Flashback N: In the morning, when I went to Sariel, who had given me lessons as Belle, I was greeted with a difficult face.

Sariel: “Keith asked me if he could have a tea party with you.

MC: “...Me?”

Rio: “Keith is the green one with the kindest face out of the three countries, isn’t he?”

Sariel: “Stop distinguishing by color like Chevalier.”

(Why did Prince Keith invite me to a tea party?)

Sariel: “Gilbert and Silvio clearly had an interest in you, but…” ⬛ “I didn’t feel that kind of gesture from Keith, so it was a little surprising.”

Rio: “Mc, do you have any idea why you’re being invited to a tea party?”

MC: “I thought about it, but I didn’t come up with anything…”

(Grabbing one’s head… It’s not going to be a reason to be invited to a tea party.)

N: A few minutes of thinking together–None of us come up with anything. ⬛ As if switching, Sariel put on his glasses again.

Sariel: “Even if I think about it any further, the only thing that comes out is a sigh.” ⬛ “In any case, the other party is the prince of Jade, who was not supposed to participate in the goodwill party.” ⬛ “The reason for their stay was that Obsidian and Bentitoite wanted to stay.” ⬛ “The probability of inviting you to a tea party without a purpose is extremely low.”

MC: “You’re right…”

Sariel: “If you, a mere nobleman’s daughter, refuse the offer, you’ll definitely be suspicious.”

MC: “So I have no choice but to accept the offer.”

N: Sariel quietly nodded.

Sariel: “Just as the dog says, he is the friendliest of the three countries, but he is also the prince of one.” ⬛ “When it comes to national interests, they can be ruthless.”

N: If it is known that I am Belle, the death of his Majesty the KIng will be confirmed, and it will be the best bargaining chip for other countries.

(...I need to brace myself.)

Sariel: “If anything happens, report it. And stay vigilant. Sounds good?”

Rio: “I’ll go anywhere for you too, so feel free to call my name when you’re in trouble!” ⬛ “Of course, you’re always welcome even when you’re not in trouble!”

—----------------------------

(However, I’m glad I was ab;e to make it through this tea party somehow.)

Keith: “Um, Miss MC.”

N: When I lifted my head as if pulled back to reality, I met Keith’s peering gaze.

Keith: “Maybe it didn’t suit your taste? Because you look very troubled.”

MC: “No, no, I was just surprised for the first time eating a galette with salt in it!” ⬛ “It���s really delicious! Sweet and salty it seems like I can’t stop my hands.”

Keith: “Really!? I really like this candy. Do you?”

(Wah…)

N: Keith smiled broadly like a flower blooming.

Keith: “I’m so happy that you like it. Oh, I have other recommendations…”

N: With a dazzling smile on his face, he puts the sweets on the plate without hesitation. ⬛ With a large, masculine body, the imbalance that he diligently picks up makes the center of my chest warm.

(...Cute.)

Scene 3

(...Cute.)

N: Before I knew it, my mouth was the same as when I ate sweets. ⬛ I received a plte full of sweets and took a bit of the cookie on top. ⬛ Keith ate a heaping portion of sweets that he had set aside for himself.

MC: “Keith, you like sweets, don’t you?”

(It’s a pleasant meal.)

Keith: “Yes, I like them. Is there something you like to eat?” ⬛ “Ah, but I think Gileert likes to eat more.” ⬛ “When I gave him sweets that I brought from Jade yesterday, he ate them all in front of me and gave me only an empty box.” ⬛ “That might have meant he wanted a second helping.”

MC: “I didn’t know that… But Keith, you’re also one of those who eat a lot, right?”

N: In fact, the heap of sweets that was taken from the plate was gone.

Keith: “Today… I feel like eating more than usual.

N: I loosen my eyes and he gently spins his words.

(Talking to Keith somehow heals me.) ⬛ (That’s why I think the change I saw at the goodwill party was just a dream.)

N: His endlessly cold eyes came to mind again.

(But Keith apologized so much, so it’s a reality, isn’t it?)

N: No matter how much I think about it, I can’t come up with an answer.

Keith: “...”

(...?)

N: I notice that Keith is staring at me. ⬛ Even though his eyes were the same calm golden color, I found an uneasy color in the depths of them.

(Why are you looking at me like that?)

MC: “Keith?”

Keith: “Ah, um…”

N: I shut my mouth and look down to avert my gaze. ⬛ But it was only for a moment, and soon we met again.

Keith: “...”

(...!)

N: A straight gaze that pierces my heart unexpectedly makes my heart pound.

Keith: “Miss MC, if you have any troubles, feel free to tell me.”

MC: “Eh?”

N: Keith stood up and sat down next to me sitting on the sofa. ⬛ Then, as if to say that he would not let me escape, his big hand firmly grasped mine.

(Close close..!)

Keith: “After all, you can’t be satisfied with just a tea party and words of apology.” ⬛ “That’s how much you were so scared that you couldn’t say a word at that time.” ⬛ “So, that’s why I wanted to do something for you.”

(I thought he was convinced, but he wasn’t at all convinced!)

MC: “Oh, really don’t worry about it. I’m at fault for that, too.”

Keith: “You’re not at fault at all. I’m the one who’s wrong.”

N: A handsome face came to me for a long time, and my body involuntarily leaned back ⬛ Sudden close proximity is bad for the heart. ⬛ My cheeks were so hot at the closeness of the distance, I hesitated to even breathe.

(With this, the parallel lines will remain forever…)

N: I suddenly see sweets lined up on the table.

(I see!)

MC: “Then, I would like to have a tea party with you again.”

Keith: “Tea party?”

MC: “It’s not a problem, but I’d like to enjoy sweets together rather than alone.” ⬛ “If you’d like it, how does that sound?”

Keith: “A tea party…”

N: Keith in front of me made a thoughtful face and then smiled back.

Keith: “If that’s okay with you, I’d be happy. But if you have any other problems, feel free to tell me.” ⬛ “I would do anything for you.”

N:When he lets go, Keith crosses his long legs. ⬛ He doesn’t seem to have any intention of going back to his original seat, so he rests his chin on his knees and stares at me.

(I wonder what it is. I feel like I’m being observed.)

MC: “...”

N: At that time, Keith’s hand stroked my hair gently and put it on my ear.

Keith: “Your hair was a little messy. Did I surprise you?”

MC: “N-No…Thank you very much.”

Keith: “You’re welcome.”

N: I take a sip of black tea to escape the gentle and mean look in his eyes. ⬛ My heart is still beating loudly, and it looks like it will take time to calm down.

(From the friendliness of earlier, it seems to have changed completely… Maybe it’s just my imagination.) ⬛ (Also, I gave it back in a hurry, but if it’s just for a tea party, it’s fine.)

N: Just before, Keith happily eating sweets came to mind.

(...I don’t think he’s a bad person after talking to him.) ⬛ (For now, let’s just think about getting through this tea party.) ⬛ (If I can get through it, nothing will be a problem.) ⬛ (--Or so I thought.)

Scene 4

Silvio: “I didn’t know you were with a dark bastard.”

N: After finishing the tea party, I was in the middle of having Keith take me to my room. ⬛ Silvio, the prince of Benitoite, who played a lively jangling sound stood in our way.

Keith: “Silvio, do you have anything for MC?”

Silvio: “This girl is supposed to be my host during the stay.” ⬛ “I won’t let you say you don’t remember the rudeness of your butler.”

(Ah…)

—--------------

Flashback Silvio: “Those who threw champagne on me, originally this is a felony that could lead to a diplomatic dispute, but… Ha, rejoice.” ⬛ “Until I’m satisfied, I’ll give you guys the chance to do your best.”

—---------

(I wanted it to be a joke, but it wasn’t a convenient story…!) ⬛ (What should I do? I have to do something about this before he finds out that I’m Belle.) ⬛ (Even though I was relieved that the tea party with Keith-sama ended safely………………)

Keith: "rude?"

MC: “Um, actually………………”

N: When Keith-sama, who didn't understand the situation, explained to me, ⬛️ After showing a gesture that could endure laughter, he turned his sympathetic gaze toward Silvio.

Keith: "I'm glad you didn't catch a cold, Silvio."⬛️ "Yeah. If you get sick, I'll teach you some medicinal herbs that work well."

(why medicinal herbs)

Silvio: “That sympathetic face. Isn't it supposed to be submerged in the sea?"

Keith: “I was just worried, but it’s too much…”

N: Keith, who spills a depressed voice that was easy to understand, puts his hand to his mouth in annoyance. ⬛️ His eyebrows dropped involuntarily.

Keith: “But yeah. Give her entertainment… Well, if it’s her, I’m sorry.”

(Sorry?)

N: As I pondered what was going on, Keith stood behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.

Keith: “Actually, I decided to have Miss MC act as my exclusive Rhodolite guide.”

(...) ⬛️ (...)

MC + Silvio: “......Ha?”

Keith: “I’ve been to Rhodolite many times and it just gets more and more appealing each time.” ⬛️ “However, it is difficult for people from other countries to notice the charm of a country that only people who live there know.” ⬛️ “That’s why I asked MC, who lives in Rhodolite, to act as a guide during my stay.”

(I never said that. Why would he lie?)

—--------

Flashback Keith: Miss MC, if you have any troubles, feel free to tell me.”

—------------

(Because I was “in trouble?”)

Keith: “You’ve already made plans, haven’t you? Miss MC.”

CHOICES:

…….That’s right

Oh, really?

My memory is a little vague…

MC: “...That’s right?”

Silvio: “That’s a vague answer.”

MC: “Oh, I remember! Firmly and perfectly.”

Keith: “Yeah. I was wondering what I should do if you didn’t remember.”

(Let’s match Keith here.)

N: I replied to Keith with a satisfied smile.

(Unlike at the tea party, it’s more forcible, or rather, I feel the pressure.) ⬛️ (Yeah, I felt it during the tea party. When you sat next to me… I wonder if it’s just my imagination.)

Silvio: “Isn’t it surprising that a dark bastard asks someone for a favor?” ⬛️ “Was the eyepatch guy’s “secret mistress” a hit?”

Keith: “I feel sorry for a mistress like you.” ⬛️ “But if you’ll stay by my side, I’d rather have a lover than a mistress.”

(......What did you say just now?)

N: When I looked back awkwardly, my eyes met Keith who raised the corners of his mouth. ⬛️ Rather than “kind”, the expression seemed to match “mean.”

Keith: “MC’s smile is as soft and cute as a blooming flower.”

MC+Silvio: “.........Hm?”

Keith: “I couldn’t take my eyes off her ever-changing facial expressions and how she ate sweets with her small mouth.” ⬛️ “The thing that made me the happiest was when she stared at me for ten seconds and listened to what was not interesting to her.” ⬛️ “If you meet someone like a goddess, you won’t be satisfied with just one tea party.” ⬛️ “Of course, I want to know the charm of her country.” ⬛️ “But the tea party just as much made me want more time with her.” ⬛️ Oh my God, I wish you wouldn’t have said that because it’s embarrassing, Mr. Silvio.”

Silvio: “Don’t make me tell you… You just said it on your own, didn’t you?”

Keith: “Oh, is that so? How embarrassing.” ⬛️ “But I really didn’t want to give up on her.”

(Silvio looks at Keith with strange eyes.) ⬛️ (I… Don’t know what kind of face I should have. Or rather, my face is hot.)

N: I know it’s a lie to get Silvio to give up on entertainment, but… ⬛️ When you talk about me like that, embarrassment wins out and you struggle to pull your lips together.

(But I don’t think Silvio will give up now…) ⬛️ (Is there still some strategy?)

Keith: “Thus, MC gave me an eye for a stay. You found the target. That’s why…”

N: I close my lips and wait quietly for the next word.

Keith: “Sorry, Silvio.”

Silvio: “Ah?”

Keith: “The product I introduced earlier. Instead of signing a contract for regular purchases, I want you to gracefully give up.”

MC: “Wahh…?!”

Silvio: “Hey, wait, you bastard…!”

N: When he said that refreshingly, Keith grabbed my hand and started running.

Scene 5

Keith: “Ahaha, you ended up running away from Silvio.”

N: When he stopped in front of my room, Keith looked down the way he had come. ⬛️ I can’t hear footsteps or jangling sounds.

Keith: “Since there is no sign of chasing you, I think it was the right decision to bring up the contract.” ⬛️ “Or was the reception secondary?”

MC: “Do you think there were other purposes?”

Keith: “It’s just a prediction. Silvio is a person who will do it thoroughly if decides to do it.” ⬛️ “If you really want to entertain me, I think you can act on the day I’m permitted to stay.”

(True.)

MC: “But in that case, I shouldn’t have said anything that would be misunderstood by Silvio…”

Keith: “Misunderstanding? Oh, you mean you?” ⬛️ “That was simply waiting for the timing to escape.”

(Were you planning on running away from the beginning?)

N: It seems to be the type that pushes through unexpectedly.

Keith: “At that time, Silvio was looking at me with eyes that saw something strange.”

(I noticed.)

Keith: “But nothing I said was false. It’s all true.”

N: After gently and loosely grasping my fingertips, he released my hand.

(Yeah, we were holding hands the whole time.)

N: I hurriedly opened my mouth as if to deceive the shame that welled up.

MC: “Um thank you for earlier.”

Keith: “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was of some help to you.”

MC: “A little bit helped me a lot.”

(If I had to entertain Silvio, I might have been waiting for the days when I would be given unreasonable demands.) ⬛️ (Ah, but if I don’t do it, Rio might get in trouble.) ⬛️ (I want to avoid that, so I have to consult Sariel later.)

Keith: “Well then, Miss Lil.”

N: Keith looked straight at me as if he had changed his mind.

MC: “Yes, well then–”

Keith: “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

MC: “...mm?”

(From tomorrow, nice to meet you….?)

N: The prince in front of me continued his words, leaving me with question marks scattered in my head.

Keith: “If you lied to Silvio like that and didn’t do anything,” ⬛️ “About the day after tomorrow, ‘I’ll let you entertain me. I think they’ll come kicking down the door saying, ‘I feel honored.’” ⬛️ “I’m going to help you, but I’m sorry for giving you unnecessary work.”

MC: “No, not at all.”

N: Even if it’s a large castle, if you stay in the same place, the lie will be exposed immediately.

(What Keith is saying makes a lot of sense. It can be easily understood and imagined.) ⬛️ (However, it is difficult to easily accept entertainment in the name of a guide.)

N: Even more so if the other party is a prince from another country whose intentions are still unclear.

(I’m thankful to Keith for his help. However, I think I should decline.)

N: I swallow my guilt and open my mouth.

MC: “Like you, Keith, if you don’t lie, Silvio will soon find out.” ⬛️ “But I can’t bother you any more. The role of a guide is–”

N: My words were drowned out by a low and gentle voice.

Keith: “It’s not a big deal.” ⬛️ “For me, it’s also a good opportunity to learn more about Rhodolite.” ⬛️ “Above all, it’s a chance to help you.”

N: One step closes the distance.

(Huh…?)

N: For some reason, my heart began to make an unpleasant noise.

Keith: “For me, I don’t want it to end with a lie.”

(What is it…)

N: Even though he was just looking down on me, my skin started to tingle.

(...It feels weird.)

N: I’ve seen Keith’s smile many times since the tea party. ⬛️ However, there is something different about his smile now. ⬛️ It’s calm, but if you look at it for a long time, it feels so cold that you might freeze.

(Speaking of which, it disappeared before I knew it.)

N: The uneasy color that has been floating in his eyes for so long is nowhere to be found. ⬛️ I don’t know what caused it to disappear. ⬛️ However, if I think that is the reason for my discomfort, I would stare into the depths of Keith’s eyes. ⬛️ Unconsciously, without thinking… There was no deep meaning at all.

Mean Keith: “...” ⬛️ “...Heeeh?”

MC: “!”

N: Keith opened his eyes slightly and then they narrowed. ⬛️ “With an expression of joy, as if he had found something interesting. ⬛️ It was as if my body had been paralyzed, and I couldn’t even move a single finger…

(Ah…!)

N: My waist is pulled strongly.

Keith: “MC, don’t stare so intently.”

MC: “Keith?”

N: The voice seemed to enjoy the situation terribly.

Keith: “I’m a simple man. I’m conscious of whether you’re interested in me.” ⬛️ Do you hate it? If I’m conscious…”

MC: “I don’t like it…”

N: Tap tap… Keith's fingers gently tapped my waist as if to soothe me, and I was pulled back a little.

Keith: “So you don’t like it?”

MC: “No, I don’t like it.”

N: Keith asked me in a whisper even though he should’ve realized that I was confused.

Keith: “You don’t like it…? I want you to listen to the end.”

N: Tap tap… Again, I was gently tapped by his fingertips and pulled a little closer. ⬛️ The distance that is slowly closed pushes my heart into a corner.

(No, if you get any closer…)

N: A silent sigh touched my ear.

Keith: “Here, tell me.”

MC: “!”

N: At that moment, the tolerance of shame overflowed. ⬛️ While making a loud noise, I stick my back to the door behind me and open the distance from keith.

MC: “Well, the story about the guide earlier.”

Keith: “What happened to the guide role?”

MC: “I have a feeling that I would like to take over. But I can’t decide on my own.”

Keith: “Yes, that’s too bad…”

N: While lowering the tail of the eyebrow, he takes another step and gets closer.

(His words and actions are the exact opposite…!)

N: I hurriedly spun words to stop Keith who was trying to get one step closer.

MC: “Still! So is it okay for me to reply at a later date?”

Keith: “Oh, so that’s it. Of course.” ⬛️ “I was afraid that I would be rejected so quickly so I got impatient.” ⬛️ “Sorry, I showed you my ugly side.”

MC: “It’s not ugly… Not at all.”

(Rather, I feel like he showed me.)

N: I wanted to ask where the sense of incongruity from earlier went, ⬛️ Keith in front of me had a calm expression.

(Wh-what was that, just now.)

N: It’s a transformation that you might have seen in a dream. ⬛️ But my thumping and hurried heart tells me it’s real.

Keith: “I am eagerly awaiting your reply, MC?”

MC: “...Yes.”

N: Keith leaves, and the thread of tension loosens. ⬛️ Back against the door, I slipped down to my feet.

(I got into trouble.)

N: The king must be selected without the princes of the other countries finding out that I’m Belle. ⬛️ At that time, entertainment in the name of Keith’s exclusive Rhodolite guide role surfaced. ⬛️ I will talk to Sariel, but I’m sure there is only one choice.

(The host has changed from Silvio to Keith.) ⬛️ (Maybe he made it so.) ⬛️ (No, maybe he really helped me out of goodwill, let’s stop doubting him.

N: There is always a little anxiety when dealing with people from other countries. ⬛️ However, this time there is nothing BUT anxiety.

(Since Jade is a neutral country, there is not much information coming into Rhodolite.) ⬛️ (Because I don’t know the details of what kind of country it is, it’s also an opportunity to broaden my knowledge.) ⬛️ (Besides, why did Keith come to Rhodolite? Maybe I can understand why.) ⬛️ (...Let’s think positively.)

————

————————

(That woman, I wonder how much she will make me happy?)

—Hey, it’s not possible.

Keith: “.......!”

N: As if jumping out of a nightmare, Keight lifted his upper body. ⬛️ Raising his shoulders up and down, he ignored the hair clinging to his forehead and timidly looked around.

Keith: “...” ⬛️ “......Ah.”

N: He covers his face with his hands to escape from reality and falls back on the bed. ⬛️ What he heard was a terribly unreliable voice that seemed to blow away.

Keith: “Wait a minute, what day is it today…” ⬛️ “How long have I been ‘changed’?”

Synopsis of Episode 2:

When I was talking to everyone in the domestic politics group, I suddenly heard a rumor from Jin. And when I saw Keith in an unexpected place, I couldn’t take my eyes off his lively figure… “Your face is bright red, are you okay?”

[buddywellls]

eavesdrop + riley

“I can’t do this for much longer, Buddy.”

Those words from a cancer patient should have struck fear in his heart by nature alone — but Buddy knows his father’s warnings aren’t about chemotherapy or the road ahead, they’re inspired by the sound of The Weeknd filling the car around them.

“I can’t do anymore Sinatra.”

They compromised how they always did on the long drives to August’s treatments.

( With Sinatra playing. )

The crooner was singing about his adoration of New York, New York, his father’s humming along with it soon silenced and replaced with spoken word.

“I always loved New York, it was always hard to feel old there, even when I was old.”

Buddy smiles faintly at that, though there’s a truth that neither of them wanted to acknowledge sitting so prominently it may as well have been taking up the backseat.

August Wells wouldn’t make it to see New York again, not with how his body was responding to the treatment.

“You used to love it too, didn’t you? I always thought it was nice when you’d go out there and see Iris. I worry about her being so far away.”

At the mention of his cousin, Buddy’s hand leaves the wheel, scratching behind his ear with the nail of his thumb before he returns it to where it had been, his eyes on the road to save from having to tell him that he and Iris didn’t speak much at all those days.

“It’s not like Iris hasn’t been far away before,” Buddy says passively, referring to her year in the country that no one seemed to ever like to talk about.

( Standard Wells practice. )

“Don’t be like that. I hate when you’re like that.”

Buddy doesn’t need him to elaborate and August doesn’t, the long stretch of road in front of them would feel endless if they kept accidentally upsetting one another.

Another ten minutes worth of driving is behind them as Frank moved on too, no longer content with New York, his sights far greater as he longed for flying to the moon.

That one seems far more implausible, which he suspects is why it’s August’s favorite.

He always did believe in the impossible — radical good, radical change.

While Sinatra deals in other words, Buddy feels compelled to make use of his own, lowering the volume slightly so he could.

“Do you think that one of the worst days of your life can also be one of the best nights of it? Doesn’t sound right, does it? If you asked me that I’d say that sounds stupid. It’s one or the other. Then I had one of the worst days of my twenties in Central Park and one of the best nights of them in Brooklyn. Same day, same time frame.”

“I don't see how it couldn't. What changed?”

“I did,” Buddy says honestly, wondering if he sounded as strange as the recollection felt every time he revisited it — and he often did, “At least for those few hours. I met a girl and she turned it all around.”

His day, night, some long dormant part of him he had let fall to ruin along with the future he thought he was going to have.

There’s a knowing smile on August’s face as he folds his arms across his chest loosely, engaging with his son like he was a deer in what he suspects might be a dear moment with him — tentatively but curiously, not wanting to spook his sharing away.

“That’s how all the best stories start.”

August Wells — consummate optimist.

“And end.”

Buddy Wells — combative pessimist.

If they both hadn’t been cursed with undeniable awareness of the dwindling clock looming large over the older of the pair, they would have argued their individual opposing points of view all the way there and back for good measure.

“That's a matter of opinion. Who's the girl?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Buddy says, not being deliberately difficult for once, speaking facts instead. “I didn’t get her last name. She didn’t get mine either. Didn’t feel right to at the time.”

He had wondered at the time if he would regret that, years later it’s no longer a thing to be wondered about, he regrets it plenty.

“I don't even know why I'm telling you this, or what made it cross my mind. It’s just an odd feeling that I get sometimes. This visceral awareness that there’s someone out roaming in the world who knows more about you than most of the people in your day to day life. If I think too hard about it, I’ll start thinking it wasn’t real.”

“Like a mirage?” August asks after a pause, which gets both a disbelieving laugh and a confirming nod from the driver.

“That’s not a word I’d have gotten to on my own, but yeah, I think you nailed it. Like a mirage but one you know is real.”

It’s August who’s reaching for the radio then, quieting Frank to a mute in a surprising show against his favourite singer.

“Does the mirage at least have a first name?”

“Yeah, Riley.”

August manages to make the two syllables sound melodic when he repeats them over the click of the Buddy using the blinker.

“There’s plenty of road left ahead, tell me about it.”

send me   “eavesdrop”   and my muse will describe your muse like they’re talking to a third party. // @rileyxmaddox

[kinkscholar]

minors dni please!

I may dabble further than thoughts at some point in the future, but goodness, I just can't keep quiet!! I've had those Pomefiore vampire cards on my mind. The possibilities are endless 🥰

One trope I don't see often explored is vampires and stuffing... Maybe I'm looking in the wrong places, haha!!

vil schoenheit

In Vil's case, he takes up most care of his form and near immortal beauty. His reputation and elegance are something he cherieshes deeply. A cold, icy vampire with a lot of power. Of course, he obtains the blood he desires when he wants it! It's hard to deny the fairest vampire in all of the land a drink, after all. So when you, a traveling human, stumble across the land of Pyroxene and the vampires that lurk in the dark — Vil took to you immediately, curious to just what your blood will taste like within his mouth. It doesn't take long for him to get what he desires. His beauty and the sweet as honey tone he spoke in make it easy.

As he straddles you, you gripping the plush of his thighs, be begins to feed off of you. The entire ordeal leaves you hot and bothered from the start. You can't help but watch as his grace becomes unraveled from your blood alone. Vil can't help himself. Strands of his hair falling in front of his face as he inches his form closer to yours. Even through your gradually weakening state, you take note of the fact that his midsection begins to strain against the sash, tracing his flawless form.

With what strength you can muster, you remove it, bearing witness to the bloat in his stomach. Even like this, he is handsome, terribly so. If this is how you were meant to die? So be it. Your greedy hands fall upon his clothed middle, taking in the glory of you being the reason he's so swollen.

Inevitably, Vil cannot drink any further, for you would die. But the feeling of his tummy bulging out further beneath your hands only made your dick harder than it already was in this situation.

As the vampire pulled back to admire his hard work, wiping some blood that trailed down his face — eyes clouded with lust, he stared to you. Vil would most definitely scold you for what you did to him at a later date, but he was hungry in another sense, and you were too. "Human, my hunger has yet to satiate all because of you..." His tone was low, like a threat, but with amusement laced within. "As punishment, you must fill me further." This was going to be a long night, but one you wouldn't regret at all.

rook hunt

Rook is a different story entirely. He knew of you the moment you stepped into Pyroxene. Those green eyes piercing into the back of your skull without your knowledge. Fresh meat, handsome at that. Of course, the hunter took interest in his prey. Perhaps a day or two of this, him learning your mannerisms, trying to predict your next move as you navigated the foreign land.

You felt the all too familiar feeling of being watched, but hoped it was only due to how new you were. One day, you finally cross his path directly. Probably the worst opportunity at that. His stalking led to the neglect of his own form, a foolish mistake on his end, but his infatuation with you left his awareness at a low. Now he was starving, and you were all he wanted.

You would think twice about roaming this country at night after this. Despire the blatant hunger that burned through his gaze, you were coaxed with ease to somewhere more secluded — thanks to his smooth talk and French. You didn't seem to take much notice just how much he knew about you, that or you just didn't care too much.

As the coast was clear, your hands gripped his waist, expecting something along the lines of a night filled with sex with a handsome man, but as his fangs were bared before you, you quickly realized your situation. It only took a few extra words of sweet talk for your neck exposed and his teeth in the flesh. Your hands gripped his waist tighter as you kept your hips as far away as you could, trying to hide your arousal from the hunter.

Great Seven, were you amazing to him. The thrill of the hunt and the taste of your blood rivaled anything he'd ever experienced before. You were his prize, so he fully intended on taking all he desired from you. Rook moved himself closer to you as he continued to feed. Gradually, you felt expansion beneath your hands as your body grew weaker.

He was taking his fill from you, in turn filling out his previously toned form. This sparked a fire in you, seemingly him as well as he rutted against you, swollen stomach pressing against your own. You didn't seem to mind the possibility of this being your final moments, any rational thought slipping from your mind.

Thankfully, Rook had restraint, pulling back as he planted a kiss to the wounds on your neck, humming happily as he admired his prize. "Ma belle..." As usual, he spoke sweet and soft, his eyes trailing to his own form. "Look at what you've done. You've filled me right up~" The blonde was clearly amused, removing the sash that strained against his middle. Then, guiding your hands to feel better.

"Magnifique!" He mused, leaning in to your weakened state, whispering softly into your ear. "Shall I give you your reward, mon b��bé?" Unsurprisingly, what little blood was left in your body rushed to your face and down south. You had no reason to decline a reward for your hard work. Maybe this place wasn't too bad.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Krampus

Read on AO3

The streets are, he’s loathed to use the seasonal word, bustling as he cuts through throngs of shoppers crowding the sidewalks. A line of children are practically curving around a corner waiting anxiously to meet a Santa Claus that sits in the window of the toy store looking at least two too many spiked eggnogs deep into his night.

John slows his hustle down the street when he sees her; her back to him, arms crossed. He watches as a man with an obnoxious number of shopping bags knocks several into her, shooting her a look like it’s her fault. She shoots him daggers, unfolding one of her hands moving it gracefully in front of her. A few of the man’s bags disappear, no doubt appearing on the doorsteps of someone in need.

John wraps an arm around her waist when he reaches her. “I saw that Zee,” he says pressing his face into her long dark hair that’s all resting over one shoulder.

She just shrugs turning slightly to give him an innocent smile over her shoulder. “One look at that guy tells me he’s been rude to every worker he encountered today, no regrets.”

John snorts pressing a kiss to her temple before readjusting so one arm is slung across her shoulders, they step together walking leisurely as people practically run around them.

“Is it bad I didn’t even realize it was December, let alone so close to Christmas?” he muses looking at the bright decorations lining every shop and light post.

“I’d be more surprised if you actually knew the date,” Zatanna says with a smile reaching up and tangling her fingers with his.

It’s been a long time since he celebrated a holiday with any sort of real intent, even longer since he found himself in his home country for one.

John steers them from the crowded streets, the festive lighting making way for normal flickering lamp posts. He cuts them through a cobbled alleyway, the skittering squeak of rats brushing along the damp walls. This is the London he’s more familiar with, more comfortable with. Not the holiday dreamscape they just passed through.

He halts them to a stop near the end of the dead-end alley disentangling himself from Zatanna.

“Is this where you kill me?” she squints at him, her lips twitching ever so slightly.

“I told you I had a place here,” he says reaching up and pulling at a rusty old fire escape ladder. It takes a couple of noisy pulls but eventually the ladder slides down.

“That in no way changes my question,” she retorts not even trying to hide the smile this time.

“Now, we both know if I ever tried to kill you, you’d end me first,” he says reaching up and stepping onto the ladder. He bounces on it a couple times before deigning it safe to climb. “And a dirty alley would just be so fuckin’ cliché.”

He holds out a hand to her with a roguish smile.

“Oh, no you go first,” she says tilting her head upwards. “Then if you fall to your death I can catch you.”

He shrugs starting his climb up. The ladder holds strong despite its appearance taking him all the way to the first platform. He looks over the edge gesturing down for Zatanna to join him.

He can’t hear her words but he watches her hands move sending her floating up in the air till she reaches the platform landing gracefully on it beside him.

“Show off,” he scoffs. She beams at him, hip checking him as she flips her hair back and starts up the first set of stairs.

“Three up,” he says following behind her just a little disappointed that a usually delightful view is being obstructed by her long deep red leather duster.

She stops when she reaches the right platform letting John slip past her closer than he needs to, his fingers trailing into the open front of her jacket and across her waist.

He crouches down fumbling in his pockets till he procures his pocket knife. He slips it into the windows scant gap wiggling it around till the lock pops. He lifts the window up and slips in landing a little clumsily. He holds a hand out the window for Zatanna which she takes this time slipping in with far more grace than he had.

She raises an eyebrow at him in question.

“I lost the key years ago,” he says answering her unspoken question. He shuts the window, locking it back up before making his way to the door flicking on the dim lights. “But I don’t pay a dime for the place cause I helped the guy who owns the building get rid of a poltergeist years ago.”

Zatanna walks around the small one room flat running a hand along the kitchen counter that John’s proud to say doesn’t have any spoiling food sitting on it from the last time he was here.

“He’s also under the impression that if he ever raises the rent for any tenant I’ll put a curse on him,” John says slipping off his coat and hanging it on the broken coat hanger near the door. It’s warm inside, comfortably so thanks to the free utilities the building provides, also courtesy of John’s not so thinly veiled threat of a curse.

Zatanna chuckles plopping down on the mattress and box springs that sit on the floor. He thinks he had a bedframe once, but he can’t be certain.

“Well, I love what you’ve done with the place,” she says looking around. The paint on the walls is a shade or two off from what it should be, yellowing from his persistent indoor smoking, there’s a battered Mucous Membrane poster hanging on one wall, a tv that likely predates both of them that only gets five channels covered in dust. There are books magical and not strewn everywhere, wads of crumpled up paper that missed trash cans line the edges of nearly every wall and an empty bottle of rum rests on the nightstand. His kitchen is bordering on barren; he thinks there might be two mugs and single plate for them to share if they’re lucky. The bathroom door has a hole in it from a fist thrown his way he narrowly ducked out of the way of.

Zatanna is by far the prettiest thing in the space leaning back on her elbows comfortably on a bed that’s likely never truly been made. She should look out of place with her artfully put together outfit that fits her just right, her wavy, shiny hair practically glittering in the low light. But like nearly every aspect of his life, dark and dank and generally rough she blends in seamlessly when she shouldn’t.

“You’d love my decorator,” he says making his way over to the bed.

“Oh, yeah?” she says biting her lip in a way that he swears on angels that hate him will kill him one day.

John hums. “Handsome bloke, dashing really,” he says as he finally reaches the bed. Zatanna leans up as he leans down nudging her crossed legs apart to fit himself between them.

“Let me guess: blonde, always looks a little tired,” she says before snapping her fingers the sheets beneath her changing in an instant. It’s a good call, he can’t remember how long they’ve been on this bed or what he’s done in them.

“That’s him. Vaguely always smell of cigarettes,” he says as Zatanna slides back onto the fresh sheets pulling John down along with her by his tie.

She fully laughs, guffaws really, right in his face as he attempts to lean in for a kiss.

“You think you just vaguely smell of cigarettes?” she says with a snort. “The olfactory fatigue is real.”

John chuckles skimming his nose along her neck till he reaches her lips again kissing her once long and slow.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” he says when he pulls back till he’s on his knees. He grips her hips pulling her against him. If the lip bite didn’t kill him the gasp she lets out at the motion might.

“Only once a year,” she says lifting up so they’re nose to nose. She grabs him by the tie again, pulling him down into her warmth and flipping them so their positions are reversed in one smooth motion.

“And,” she says adjusting herself over top of him her legs bracketing his hips now. “I haven’t used my one complaint a year yet.”

He smirks up at her his hands trailing up pushing her long coat from her shoulders. Years ago, when they were still practically kids on a New Year’s Eve on some rooftop in Las Vegas she proposed the idea of his New Year’s resolution being to kick his smoking habit. He’d told her frankly there wasn’t a chance in hell, but that he’d grant her the option to complain about it once a year till they were old and grey if he lasted that long. She’s never failed to take the opportunity to do so, he thinks it’s less about the smoking bothering her and more about her enjoying taking the piss out of him whenever she can.

“And will you be using it now?” he asks as she leans down her long hair a curtain around his field of vision.

“Nah,” she says pressing her mouth to his firm and insistent.

***

“Should we do a gift exchange or something?” John muses cracking open the window as he lights a cigarette a long time later, after they’ve both been sated and relaxed several times over. A chill brushes in as he leans against the windowsill, warmer than it should be this time of year, but a chill that’s strong enough he wishes he’d at least put some pants back on.

He’s not exactly great at gift giving, but if it’s something she’d like he’d give it a try. He always gets it right on her birthday every year without fail, it’s every holiday in between he tends to miss entirely.

Zatanna adjusts on the bed the oversized Siouxsie and the Banshees t-shirt she’d taken a gamble on the cleanliness of slipping off her right shoulder. She leans back against the yellowing wall attempting to tame her hair to one side. It’s a mess from John running his hands through it and he guarantee his looks even worse from the way she likes to pull at his.

“I don’t know, it’s not like Christmas is a big deal to either of us,” she muses. John looks down in the alley watching as some neighbor of his drags a particularly scroungy looking plastic tree to the dumpster.

“I haven’t had a proper celebration of any sort in,” he trails off struggling to remember the last time Christmas even really properly crossed his mind. With Kit had probably been the last time he’d so much as considered celebrating it and that had been years ago.

“Same,” she says. “It wasn’t that big of a deal when I was a kid. Dad tended to do shows right on through till New Year’s. Christmas morning I opened some spell book and then we were off to whatever venue he was performing in. Since then I tend to get dragged to Ollie’s big holiday bash, but that’s about it.”

“We could always head back to the states and do that?” he suggests taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“After how the last party we attended that Oliver threw went, I’m gonna say we pass,” she says shifting so she’s back under the covers.

John takes another long drag of his cigarette before stamping it out on the wall, flicking it out the window and shutting it tight. He rejoins her under the covers sliding down under them with her. She nudges at him till he gets with the program, moving so his back is presented to her. She shuffles up against him tangling their legs together, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face in between his shoulder blades.

She presses a kiss there before settling down on the pillows she magically fluffed once she realized how pathetically flat they’d been her warm breath ghosting against the back of his neck.

“So that’s a no to gifts then?” he asks moving his thumb across the knuckles of one of her hands.

“Being with you is a gift enough,” she says seriously and he feels it as her nose scrunches up at the words. “Ugh, I take that back,” she says as he starts to laugh.

“That was disgusting,” he says still laughing as she joins him her chest rumbling against his back.

“It was. Forget I ever said that,” she says her laughter settling down.

“We’ll just treat it like any other day where we’re not in peril,” John says and Zatanna hums in agreement.

“I mean you’ve probably just jinxed us by saying that,” she chuckles cut off with a little yawn. “But I agree. I don’t have any shows till after New Year’s, we just solved a big case and we have this shitty little apartment of yours all to ourselves. You didn’t even notice it was the holidays till about four hours ago anyways.”

“True,” John says feeling himself falling into slumber as her breath starts to even out behind him. “We’re not particularly spirited.”

***

The final few days till Christmas breeze by, the two of them never straying too far into any shopping districts from the warmth of the flat. It’s been all hole in the wall restaurants with the best food you’ve ever eaten in your life and dive bars for them, blissfully untainted by the hordes of shoppers populating the rest of the city.

The days have blurred together comfortably, the closest to a peaceful break the two of them have experienced in ages.

A knock at his door mid afternoon forces him to peel himself from bed and Zatanna’s arms forgetting to even put on pants as he stumbles towards the door. Zatanna’s hand slips from the cocoon of covers a small wave of magic literally slapping him on the ass before a pair of sweatpants cover him up.

“Happy Christmas Eve!” the woman in the alarmingly bright light up surfing Santa sweater shouts as he opens the door.

“Noticed that you were back along with a pretty lady friend lately, so I thought you’d like an invite,” she says with a chipper smile handing John a woven red basket filled to the brim with treats. He vaguely remembers her from the poltergeist situation, her name starting he’s 87 percent certain with an H. Holly? Hayley? Something like that. She’s the one that decorated the halls, that much he knows. The little elf on the shelf, string lights and garland greeting him every time he walks out the front door all her handiwork.

“All the info is on the card!” she says before he can even get in a single word already bounding down the hall to the next door trailing along a child’s wagon filled with more baskets behind her. His grumpy neighbor opens the door after one knock with an annoyed yell. John mutters a curse under his breath quickly shuffling inside. Prior to Zatanna remembering to put a silencing spell on his flat they’d angered his neighbor quite a few times with their more enthusiastic activities.

John stretches his neck out as he trails back to the bed plucking the card from the basket. He steps onto the mattress purposefully shaking it as he crawls over Zatanna disturbing her nest of blankets. She groans at him pushing the blankets down her face grumpy and squinty as he settles back on his side of the bed leaning against the wall.

“We’ve been invited to a building wide Christmas Eve party,” John says flipping the card open. Zatanna moves up still squinting at him purposely breathing right into his face. Her morning breath is, well it’s not great, but he knows he’s no better and while she still smells like straight bourbon he certainly has a mix of things going on. It was a good night.

She smiles satisfied when he makes a face at her. She pulls the basket out of his lap digging in. He watches as her fingers pick through the contents. Her once pristine maroon and black acrylics are in varying levels disarray. Paint chipped on a few, and a few straight up gone entirely for one pleasant or fun reason or another. Yeah, a damn good night.

“Ew,” she says pulling a Cornish pastry wrapped in a cheerful snowman napkin out and dropping it in his lap. “That’s for you.” John snorts moving it to the nightstand.

She makes a triumphant little noise when she finds a tin of homemade chocolate dipped shortbread underneath the offending pie sliding the basket aside. She takes a bite of one in the shape of a tree and lets out a moan that’s akin to the ones John’s used to having the luxury of coaxing out of her.

“Oh man,” she says meeting his eyes. She fell asleep in her makeup it smudged in glittering streaks somehow still artfully around her eyes. “I don’t want to go to her party but I could kiss her on the mouth for these cookies.”

She settles in against John’s shoulder continuing her shortbread meal. He wraps an arm around her trailing his fingers up and down her exposed arms.

“What do you say you magic these pants off me and we stay this way all day?” he suggests. He reaches out attempting to grab a shortbread of his own but is stopped by a magical barrier. John gives her look and she blinks up at him innocently reaching up and offering the paltry last remaining backside of a reindeer shaped shortbread. He leans down taking the whole piece in his mouth nipping at her fingers for good measure.

She smiles at him happily going for another shortbread through her own magical barrier. “I like the sound of that, but I desperately need to shower. I feel like I bathed in bourbon last night.”

“I do distinctly recall licking some off of varying parts of your body,” he says with a sultry smirk wiping at his mouth.

“Yeah,” Zatanna says pulling away from him taking her shortbread with her. “Definitely need a shower,” she says tossing her still magically protected goods on the kitchen counter as she heads for the bathroom.

John grabs the rest of the basket and the pastry on the nightstand taking a bite as he walks over to the counter. He hums pleased at the taste, damn can Holly/Hayley bake. He slides the rest of the basket on the counter enjoying the rest of the pastry as the water is turned on in the shower, steam slowly billowing out of the hole in the door as it warms up.

“So, are you joining me or what?” Zatanna says voice clear through the thin broken door. John scrambles off the kitchen stool shoving the rest of the pastry in his mouth chewing with effort as he strips his sweatpants off.

He pulls open the shower door about to step in when a firm hand hits his chest, the acrylics are all gone now he notes. “Not until you brush your teeth, meat mouth,” she says flicking a bit of water at him with her other hand. He waggles his eyebrows at the nickname.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” she says shoving him back until he hits the sink still chewing away as he reaches for his toothbrush.

***

“And every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings,” the little girl on the tv says, the picture blurry as hell.

“You’ve encountered more angels than I have in your day,” Zatanna says pausing to pop another piece of caramel popcorn from the basket Holly/Hayley had dropped off earlier in her mouth. She swivels around on the kitchen island stool for a moment to look at him. Despite their original plan they did get somewhat dressed after their time in the shower, Zatanna in shorts and a Star City Stars sweater and John in the sweatpants she’d magicked onto him earlier. “Any truth to that statement?”

John reaches around her from his stool indelicately shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “If it is we need to stop ringing bells cause a lot of them are pricks,” he says his words muffled by the popcorn still in his mouth. Zatanna rolls her eyes at him shifting her attention back to the tv, channeling surfing between the five varying levels of blurry channels.

John’s eyes drift away to the window swallowing down his mouthful of popcorn.

“Is it snowing?” he says doing a double take.

“Considering it was pushing 65 when you went out on the fire escape for a smoke twenty minutes ago I doubt it,” Zatanna says twisting around leaving the duct taped remote and container of popcorn on the counter. She freezes when she’s turned getting down from her seat and moving towards the window.

“Holy shit,” she says lifting the window up and holding a hand out a few ice-cold flakes falling onto her skin.

“Guess this is a Christmas miracle,” he says shifting behind her shivering a bit as the air turns even colder.

Zatanna wipes her wet hand on John’s sweatpants just as a loud thumping from next door drags their attention from the weather anomaly outside.

“Now who’s being noisy,” John grumbles moving over to the wall to bang on it with his fist the way his neighbor had nights before. He knocks on the wall four successive times and is met with a moment’s silence followed by another thump and a yell.

“That didn’t sound like just a grumpy yell,” Zatanna says rushing over to the edge of the bed slipping on a pair of white sneakers. She’s at the front door by the time John has one arm in the sleeve of a Mucous Membrane tank top.

Zatanna pounds on their neighbor’s door only met with another more urgent sounding yell.

She uses her magic to bust the door down just in time to watch as their neighbor screams again. His flat is just as small as John’s so it’s impossible to miss it as a giant jack in the box looking creature with sharp teeth swallows the man down like a snake. He scrambles at the hardwood floor leaving marks as he’s consumed.

Zatanna watches wide eyed for a moment before kicking into gear.

“Tel mih og,” she yells moving her hands towards the thing. The magic bounces right off the creature as the neighbor’s head disappears down the pinkish gullet of the monster.

“Fuck,” she says running towards the door bumping right into John as he finally arrives.

“What the fuck?” he says scrambling as Zatanna pushes at his chest moving him back out into the hall.

“It ate your neighbor,” she says in a rush. The monster scrapes along behind them dragging itself towards the door.

“Ate him?” John says pausing and looking back as the thing struggles to pull itself through the doorway, it’s large box base getting caught. The thing thrashes in the doorway for a moment before closing its mouth, slowly shrinking down in size.

They back up side by side eyes never moving from the jack in the box as it gets smaller and smaller. Zatanna lifts a hand backwards magic under her breath, she may not be able to affect the actual thing with magic, but everything else is fair game.

“Mals eht rood!” she shouts the door banging closed with a crash knocking the jack in the box monster back inside the room. “Kcol ti!”

The monster on the other side lets out a weird jack in the box style song banging at the locked door shaking it. They turn ready to make their way back into John’s flat only to find the door blocked, the elf on the shelf that John has been side eying for days stands in front of the door much larger than it had been.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” John says moving out an arm in front of Zatanna. The door she’d just magically locked makes a wood cracking sound behind them, Zatanna turning her attention towards it while John keeps his eyes on the elf.

The elf waves at him menacingly.

Zatanna watches as the jack in the box breaks through the door using it’s tiny sharp teeth like a demented beaver chomping through the wood.

“You take the elf, I’ll take the jack in the box,” she says nudging John’s shoulder before moving back the neighbors door. The elf continues to just stare at him not making any move to fight. John decides to take its lead, eyes locked like a wild west showdown to see who makes the first move.

Zatanna takes a more aggressive approach behind him using some of the non-animated decorations in the hall to create a tornado of distraction throwing the hopping jack in the box off of its game.

The elf gets bored with John’s stare down making the first move reaching out a white gloved hand and punching John square in the chest. It sends him barreling back down the hall nearly knocking into Zatanna’s legs as she grabs the plastic reindeer in the hall using all her physical and magical might to throw it at the jack in the box as it attempts to once again grow a larger size.

The elf stalks towards John picking him up by his shirt tearing the already extra wide sleeves even wider. The elf lifts him over it’s head like it’s about to do a back breaking wrestler move. Much to John’s luck it doesn’t choose to do that, instead tossing him down the hallway the opposite way.

He yells catching sight of Zatanna as she slams the plastic reindeer down on the jack in the box again and again.

John lands with a thud, the elf moving his way hovering over him balling its hands into fists ready to bring them down on him.

John puts his arms up blocking the first blow as best he can pushing at the elf keeping it from crushing him. They trade blows John pushing the elf back enough to get the leverage to stand again. The elf backs him into the wall a fist John narrowly evades slamming a hole into the wall. The move distracting John for just long enough that the elf gets a hold on his throat squeezing tight.

He bats at it trying to gain some sort of leverage when its grip loosens the beautiful lilt of backwards magic coming from over it’s shoulder. There’s a wet crunching sound before the evil giant elf on the shelf explodes, guts it shouldn’t have exploding everywhere, Zatanna revealed behind the explosion her hand holding onto the still beating heart of the elf covered in gunk. She drops it stamping it to mush with very much no longer pristine white sneakers.

“You really are gift enough,” John says looking at her rubbing at his neck, charmed by the disgusted look on her face as a glob of elf goo slips past her lips.

She rolls her eyes at him wiping at her face best she can. “Guess magic works on elves, but not demonic toys,” she says turning back checking that there’s no other creatures lingering in the hall.

“What happened to it?” John asks.

“Threw it out the window,” she says making for the still wide open flat door. “The thing cursed me out in German on it’s way down to the pavement.”

“So, a German jack in the box ate my neighbor?” John asks locking the door behind them.

“Der Klown,” she says before running a hand over her body, a few little backwards words cleaning her off. She turns meeting John’s expectant eyes. She huffs giving him the same treatment.

“It gave you it’s name on the way down too?” he says as the mess of elf guts whisp away.

“No,” she says in a tone that makes it clear John’s being particularly daft. “It’s part of an old German holiday legend, Der Klown the seemingly innocent child’s toy that brings terror for its master Krampus.”

John snorts. “Krampus isn’t real,” he says in disbelief.

Zatanna tilts her head holding up a hand. “Babadook’s, Wendigo’s, Chaos Gods,” she lists checking each off with a raised finger as she goes. “Just a few of the things that shouldn’t be real that we have encountered in the last six months alone.”

He shrugs conceding her point.

“Our grumpy neighbor was very anti holidays, and joy in general, not exactly spreading the good tidings,” Zatanna continues on pacing a bit as she thinks. “And us, well we weren’t exactly hopping on the reindeer and spirit train either.”

“But Krampus is supposed to deal with naughty kids, Santa’s opposite and all that,” John says his eyes flicking to the still open window for a moment swearing he saw something moving out there.

“In some legends, but legends change, evolve. Some say it’s the kid’s thing, others believe it’s just about scaring those who don’t see the joy in the season, in gathering with others. I mean you know how it is enough someone’s believe a legend enough and it becomes true, that’s the simplest magic in the universe,” she concludes stopping her pacing. John’s eyes fix over her shoulder again, something’s definitely moving out there.

“The evil elf on the shelf is new, but I’m guessing it’s more of a use of surroundings thing,” Zatanna adds settling her hands on her hips.

John’s eyes go wide watching as hand to God a cookie, a moving cookie makes its way in through the window, followed by another and another.

“Gingerbread man army a part of the legend?” John asks reaching out and grabbing Zatanna by the elbow pulling her his way. She looks at him confused before turning watching as another line of the little guys makes their way inside lining up in seemingly practiced formations.

“Aww, they’re kinda cute,” Zatanna says. They all stand to attention like military each of their tiny cookie hands materializing with an array of small weapons. “Okay, less cute,” Zatanna says as John wraps an arm around her waist keeping her close.

The little gingerbread men scatter circling the both of them. It would be comical these tiny cookie creatures with their sharp knives and scissors coming at them, surrounding them like vultures, if it weren’t so outright terrifying.

Zatanna raises her hands ready to see if magic can be used against the little cookie menaces when the windows shake violently, near to the point of breaking.

A cloud of black smoke appears out on the fire escape hooved feet coming into view confirming Zatanna’s earlier reasoning.

“Elbmurc eseht seikooc,” Zatanna says her hands twisting in the air and coming down onto the ground a wave of magic hitting the little gingers. They don’t so much as shake, each of them sporting a curl of their icing lips.

The first line of cookie defense attacks, the pair of them kicking at the cookie men to keep them away. A knife knicks John’s elbow causing him to grit his teeth as Zatanna crushes a few underfoot heading for the kitchen space. John follows her lead.

She trips at the kitchen island one of the little cookies latched onto her shoelace. She kicks her leg out trying to dislodge the thing. John pulls open every drawer feeling triumphant when he finds a pot and rolling pin he didn’t know he owned.

He turns just as Zatanna kicks the little monster off of her foot another line of the cookies rounding the corner their way, he smashes the pot down hard on the one she’d dislodged crumbling it to bits. He holds the rolling pin out to his girlfriend and she wastes no time gripping it like a baseball bat swinging with abandon as the cookies jump at them.

The fire escape rattles, the window making an awful screeching sound as a booming footstep falls inside. Neither of them can see over the island, but it’s clear from the way the cloven hooves hit the hardwood, Krampus has found his way inside.

A bellowing growl carries over the space, the gingerbread mean freezing in place dropping their weapons and standing to attention, saluting upwards.

Zatanna meets John’s eyes inching back and into a crouch pressed against the kitchen island.

“Nothing says holiday cheer like a homicidal Santa Claus,” John says wryly, whispering.

“Krampus,” Zatanna corrects edging along the kitchen counter trying to stay hidden.  It’s likely not working considering the size of the space and of Krampus. The gingerbread men pay them no mind any longer, focused on their leader and any instructions he might give them.

“Semantics,” John says lifting up, he swings the pot out hard at Krampus knocking it directly into one of his large goat like horns.

Krampus does not like it.

Zatanna’s hands are already moving magic flowing from her lips, a burst of angry red magic blasts at Krampus, but much like it had with Der Klown the magic bounces right off of him. Krampus takes a deep breath blowing it out heavily, nostrils flaring with a cloud of condensation moving through the chilled room. It’s the first good look they’ve gotten at him, his gait standing at easily seven-foot, dark matted hair covering his body, his face a cross between a goat and a cartoon devil. A deep red cloak covers his shoulders and a fucking Santa hat rests crooked and dirtied between his horns.

Krampus tosses the big red sack over his shoulder to the window before vaulting over the kitchen island sending John and Zatanna backwards, tripping over the gathered gingerbread lieutenants and falling to the floor pressing back into the corner by the stove as Krampus’ wild red eyes bore into theirs.

The gingerbread men part like the red sea giving their master space to take heavy steps their way.

“If we do a gift exchange would that help?” Zatanna gulps as Krampus gets directly into her face his hot breath, smelling vaguely of gingerbread and chocolate. She wonders if he eats his little army routinely.

John reaches into his sweatpants pocket pulling a loose cigarette and his lighter out as Krampus rears back lifting his head and letting out a victorious growl to the sky.

“Really? Now?” Zatanna says watching incredulously as John lights up a cigarette. He waves her off as he struggles to get his lighter working. The little gingerbread men break formation letting out tiny sounds of victory as well. “I think I’m gonna use my yearly complaint card now.”

John ignores her complaints as his lighter finally catches as Krampus moves right up on them again. He leans down backing them impossibly further into the corner and John moves quick.

He presses the lit cigarette into Krampus’ eye the creature letting out a guttural howl and backing away from them giving them space to run around him, no longer cornered.

“Okay, I’m never complaining about your smoking again,” Zatanna says as she grabs his hand pulling him through their open spot to run. Zatanna tugs him till they’re clear across the room crushing as many gingerbread men as they possibly can as they go.

She pushes John up onto the mattress situating him behind her as she moves her hands in a practiced, mesmerizing motion through the air.

“Magic doesn’t work on him,” John says putting his hands on her hips steadying them on the wobbly mattress.

“Not directly,” she says with a confident smirk over her shoulder. Krampus stands in the kitchen still brushing at his eye as the gingerbread men attempt to help him. “But boy do I know how to annoy someone with magic all the same.”

Backwards magic tumbles from her lips the fastest he thinks he’s ever heard it come from her. Krampus squints his burnt eye their way turning his attention on them as Zatanna’s magic crackles all around them.

Garbage from the floor lifts swirling and catching fire flying the way of Krampus and his tiny army. The army mobilizes heading their way, but Zatanna is quicker than them the sloshing sound of the elf guts in the hall barreling towards the gingerbread men like a great wave taking their tiny bodies on a ride.

Krampus lets out another guttural howl stalking around the kitchen island each step shaking the ground, nearly leaving imprints in the hardwood.

Zatanna moves her hands again strings of lights from the hallway violently whipping at Krampus, not quite touching him, but moving him back with every snap. He snaps back catching a string in his teeth and pulling.

Zatanna’s face becomes more determined more rapid fire magic spilling from her lips as the flurry of lights grow brighter, moving faster and blinking in Krampus’ one good eye. He bats at them his vision completely obstructed staggering on his feet.

She keeps one hand focused Krampus’ way while she snaps her fingers with the other, sunglasses appearing over both their eyes blocking them from the colorful assault she’s instigating across the room.

The little gingerbread men attempt to pull themselves from their goo wave struggling as it sticks to them, causing a few of them to stick together entirely unable to gain their footing again.

A few other decorations fly in from the hall along with the previously used pot and rolling pin and every other item from John’s kitchen cabinets, nothing ever quite touching Krampus, as the magic seems to bounce right off of him, but spinning around him, distracting him. Keeping him occupied and increasingly frustrated.

His claws get tangled in the lights and he lets out another frustrated growl shutting his burnt eye and the good one tightly as the lights blink more rapidly.

“Ich gebe nach!” Krampus yells, the first words he’s said since his booming arrival. Zatanna pauses the lights slowing down things falling to the ground. The lights still blink tangled around Krampus as he lets out a long sigh.

Zatanna slips the sunglasses off of her face stepping down from the mattress. John keeps his hands on her waist stepping down with her.

“What’d he say?” he asks as they hold eye contact with Krampus.

“My German isn’t great, but I think he said he yields,” she says one hand still sparking magic. The lights slow down to a normal glow untangling from Krampus hands.

Krampus hold up his arms in defeat at Zatanna’s show of power. The gingerbread men break free from their gooey bonds and move to attack, but Krampus reaches out an arm stopping them dead in their tracks. He nods at them once and they all move over to the discarded red sack using their combined strengths to drag it his way.

Krampus keeps his hands visible slow blinking with his one good eye at them before opening the bag. The gingerbread men dutifully hop in one at time, the sack writhing as they settle into the depths of it somewhere.

Krampus reaches inside once they’ve all gone inside and Zatanna moves her hands ready to act. Krampus huffs, annoyed as he digs in his long-clawed hands pulling a large tree from it.  

He throws the base to the ground with force, the tree fluffing out a glittering star at the top lighting instantly. He points at the lights on the floor and meets Zatanna’s eye. John sees as she gulps a few words sending the lights to their proper spot decorating the tree.  

Krampus nods stiffly then growls their way, nostrils flaring, breath hot and smoky before cinching the bag closed and making his way towards the window.

Zatanna and John look at each other wide eyed.

“We learned our lesson I guess,” Zatanna says her hands still kind of frozen mid air from her last spell.

“Or we just really bugged him,” John says his hands falling from her waist.

They watch as Krampus crams himself through the window, hulling the large red sack out onto the fire escape.

“Oh, fuck,” John says a thought hitting him. He rushes to the window before Krampus can truly make his leave.

“Wait a sec,” he says sticking his head out of the window. Krampus rears his head grunting loudly pushing John back inside, John holds his hands up in surrender. “I know, you want to be rid of us I get it, but it’s just my neighbor,” John says gesturing to the wall by his bed that’s shared. “He’s a grumpy git, but you gave him a good scare I don’t think he needs to be permanently digested by a jack in the box too.”

Krampus grunts again hefting his sack once again and pulling the small Der Klown from it. The innocuous toy grows again making an awful regurgitating sound poking its head through the window until their grumpy neighbor is shot out from the creature’s mouth covered in mint smelling goo.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs picking himself up off the ground sliding as he goes. “I’ll go to the party,” he says skittering off through John’s open door nearly face planting in the doorway but righting himself and taking off without so much as a backwards glance. Zatanna watches him go with bewildered amusement. The party must really be in full swing downstairs since no one heard the war they’ve been waging up here.  

Der Klown shrinks back down Krampus tossing it back into his bag before giving them one last annoyed look. John just gives the beast a thumbs up and Krampus huffs again raising its clawed middle finger their way before jumping off the fire escape. Zatanna rushes to John’s side at the window watching as the beast disappears in a cloud of black smoke.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” she says after a long moment of silence staring at the snow-covered streets. They feel it as the temperature starts to rise again, the snow melting almost instantly. Local meteorologists are going to have a field day with this one for years to come.

John lets out a long breath turning and sliding down the wall to sit on the floor beside their merry little evil tree, Zatanna joins him and John rests his forehead on her shoulder. “Merry Christmas, love.”

As they’ve been heavily reminded this night, tis’ the season. Whatever that means. Maybe they’ll clean up and head down to the party after all.

[britswriting]

Devotion (7)

Devotion Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

*Leighton's POV*

I stared at my sweet baby girl who now had an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, her face full of dried tear stains, the moment being etched into my brain forever.

My thumb caressed the top of her hand as she clutched to the stuffed cow Colby brought her.

"She's going to be alright Leighton" Gabe tried to reassure me, having been sat on the other side of her.

"You didn't see her" I whispered, not taking my eyes off my daughter.

"I know, but we knew she had poor lungs when she was a baby. I'm not surprised things are starting to show up" He commented, my eyes snapping over to him to see him leaning back against the stiff hospital chair, staring at Gemma who was asleep.

"You're not surprised?! My baby couldn't breathe Gabe! I watched my daughter struggle to breathe!"

"Our daughter, Leighton! Our daughter!" He hissed, moving to lean forward in the chair as my jaw clenched.

"You left us. You weren't fucking there when I watched her fucking breathe all night long the second that damn oxygen tube came out of her nose! You weren't fucking there so excuse me if I'm a little more sensitive about seeing another fucking oxygen mask on our three year old!" I whispered yelled, glancing towards Gemma, not wanting to wake her.

"You can't keep holding me putting myself first above my head. I wanted to give her a better life Leighton"

"I'm not doing this. Not here. Not now."

"Then when? When Leighton? Because you don't talk to me" His voice raised, earning a glare from me.

"I don't have to talk to you. You're my daughter's father. Not my boyfriend. All I care about is her health and happiness"

"You wanted to get rid of her!" He threw in my face, letting the unwelcome memory begin to play in my head.

"I was in a different place Gabriel. Yes, I thought about putting her up for adoption, sue me" I quietly hissed, leaning back against the hospital chair, my right leg crossing over my left as my right foot began to bounce.

Was he really trying to pick a right whilst our three year old lays helplessly in a hospital bed?

"How do you think that will make her feel when she's older? You can't say that me leaving her when she was a newborn to go to college to better her life is worse than when you wanted to put her up for adoption!" Gabriel continues.

"Oh my god. Can you fucking stop? You weren't there!"

"You never let me be there! It was always Sam this Sam that, Colby this Colby that. Don't you think I deserved to be in the fucking loop with my own daughter?"

"You. Never. Showed. Up. So excuse me for taking the help handed to me! You never went to her OBGYN appointments so sorry if I felt alone. If she asks me about it, I'll be honest with her. I don't regret thinking that. I regret it right now, knowing Gemma now and being in the place I am now, but I do not regret wanting the best for my daughter. You aren't an addict. You weren't alone. You weren't even there, so don't you dare make me feel guilty for looking at all my possible options when you fucking left across the country the second she was born!"

"You always think you're all that, don't you?" He snickered, his ankle now resting against his knee, reminding me a lot of Colby which made my nose wrinkle as I looked away.

He reeked of cockiness and it made me want to punch him in the face.

"Our toddler is laying in a god damn hospital bed right now, and you want to pick a fucking fight about whose right and wrong? Yes, I played into it, I fell for your stupid game, and I apologize.. but how immature do you have to be do throw out that bait whilst our daughter has an oxygen mask over her face?"

"There she is. Always thinking she's right. That she's better than everyone else. Get off your fucking high horse. You're a pathetic addict who can't get her shit together for two seconds to even properly care for our daughter. Your fucking friends cared for her whilst you were in rehab!" He exclaimed, my eyes beginning to sting.

"You know, I might be a fuck up, but at least I'm not a liar. You really think you can be best friends with the people who fed into my addiction, and not touch a single substance? You belittled me time and time again, when you were doing the exact same thing, weren't you? You want to talk about being pathetic? I can own up to my shit, but you'll always be worse. You can look like daddy's perfect church boy all you want, but we both know you did the cocaine that night, so if you want to act like I'm the biggest fuck up, go ahead. But at least I'm clean and sober now. Are you?" I cocked an eyebrow, my lips pursed out of annoyance as I watched him fidget under my gaze.

"You were the drug whore. I didn't do shit" He snapped and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah. That's why you were so pissed about the weed, isn't it? Always wanted to look like the good guy. Congratu-fucking-lations Gabriel. You'll always be better than me. That's why Gemma begs every single Friday to stay with Colby and I. Because you're always better than me"

I could see the tension rise under his skin, but before he could defend himself, there was a knock on the door before it opened, the man in a white coat reentering the room.

"She's still out?" He asked and I cleared my throat, nodding.

"Alright, I'll lower my voice" He nodded, taking a seat on the stool. "Her scans came back good. They appear healthy" He said softly, showing us the Xrays. "Her lungs are small for her age" he noted and I nodded slowly, gnawing on my lower lip as I tried to stay calm. "We checked for bacteria, she's clean as a whistle. I know we were concerned about Asthma, but I don't think that's something to be too concerned with right now. I'd definitely keep it in mind as she gets older" He eyed both Gabe and I, myself nodding.

"So she doesn't have Asthma?" I confirmed, glancing between the doctor and my daughter.

"Correct. As of right now, I don't see clear symptoms. Yes, her attack, if we want to call it that, had similar signs, which is why I'm saying we should definitely keep it in mind as she gets older. Again, with her lungs being on the smaller side it could make things interesting. My personal opinion is that she got overworked and overwhelmed, and as she tried to inhale to breathe, her lungs couldn't keep up. When you inhale, they fill with air, when you exhale, they deflate" He explained and I nodded, looking over at my sleeping daughter, watching her chest slowly rise and fall. "When you begin to hyperventilate, it overworks. It's going at a quicker pace of up down up down" He continued. "Which led to the gasping, and the gasping could make her wheeze from the quick air intake. I wouldn't say she had a panic attack, or an anxiety attack or that she has Asthma and needs an inhaler. My professional opinion is that her lungs, which are already more undeveloped from when she was a baby, compared to where they should be now, got overworked" He explained and I blinked away the tears, composing myself as I nodded, guilt bubbling in my stomach at the thought of Gemma having any sort if medical problem.

Was it the preeclampsia? The low iron? Being born early?

"What does this mean for the future? She's going to cry, and yell. She's a toddler" I asked, the doctor nodding.

"I'm not saying you have to give into the tantrum, but maybe try and distract. Refocus her before she can go to that point again. Obviously she is a toddler, and they want what they want, when they want it" He chuckled, "I know it isn't ideal to play the trade game. Say she starts crying because you said no to a toy. Try offering her something of similar reward. Maybe something she loves to do.. get her mind refocused to something you can give her, rather than something you can't give her. I understand that it kind of defeats the purpose of discipline and not giving into everything they want. I've got an 8 year old at home, I get how backwards it sort of sounds.. but given the circumstances right now, I'd like to not overwork her lungs. Obviously crying is unavoidable, but it takes a lot to really get to hyperventilating"

So it was my fault.

"I would like to add a checkup once or twice a year for her lungs. Whether it be at her yearly appointment, which I see in her chart she's been to, and she's in good health besides her being short for her age" He rolled his eyes, chuckling. "I hate the height thing. Not everyone's tall" he motioned to himself, having been a shorter male himself making me smile appreciatively at him. "I would like to keep watch on her lungs. Organ's don't really grow unless you grow, but they can become healthier. She can breathe better, even if they're slightly smaller than average" He nodded towards us, making sure we understood.

We were given at home care instructions before he excused himself from the room, telling us we could invite Sam and Colby in if we wanted to, Colby immediately jumping from his chair to follow me into her room, muttering "It's fucking bullshit that only the parents can go in" to which I nodded at, still reeling at the fact that this could be a life long problem for my daughter.

I saw Gabe eye Colby as Colby b-lined it to where I previously was sitting, bending down and softly pushing the fallen pieces of hair out of her face, brushing a kiss against her skin.

I saw him murmur something before pulling away, looking over at me, and then past me.

Sam.

I quickly spun around, my eyes scanning his face to try and process what his expression could tell me.

He looked worried, defeated almost.

"Is she alright?" He asked and I nodded, stepping out of the way.

I watched him inhale, and exhale, and then inhale again and hold it as he looked over at Colby who was still fawning over Gemma.

I heard his exhale, his sneakers softly hitting the pristine white tiled floor, maneuvering around Colby.

"Are you alright Sam?" I asked, noticing Gabe getting up and leaving the room. "Sam?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?" I checked in, Sam nodding, returning to look back at our girl.

"She looks so....." he paused.

"You can say it"

"Pathetic" he said softly which made me chuckle as he continued, "I just.. I guess the word I'm looking for is small? Helpless? Fragile?" He continued and I nodded, walking over to him, Colby moving to the other side of the bed. "When I heard Colby's tone.. and him talk about going to the Emergency Room... my heart sank. I mean, we've been best friends for what... 11 years? I've never heard him so panicked and he wouldn't say anything in the car.. and to see Gemma, our little fighter laying in a hospital bed.. it's killing me" He confessed and I nodded, not knowing how to reply.

"The doctor said she'll be okay. Just gotta take it easy"

"How do you guys do this?" Sam questioned, looking between Colby and I.

"Do what?" I hummed.

"Love someone this much. I mean, she's not even my daughter and I was worried shitless"

I smiled, pulling him into a hug. Sam's arms wrapped around me and I squeezed him, nuzzling my face into his chest. "She loves you so much" my muffled words voiced against the fabric of his shirt.

I felt him exhale, his body dropping into mine.

He pulled away, and when our eyes met his blue eyes were covered in ready to fall tears.

I looked over towards Colby who was too in his own world as he fussed over Gemma, allowing me to offer Sam my hand and lead him out of the room for a second.

The two of us leaned against the wall outside of the room, my tongue wetting my lips as I gathered my thoughts.

"Thank you" I started, catching his attention.

"For what?"

"For being there. For being Colby's best friend. For always being a shoulder I can cry on. For allowing me to slap you across the face on multiple occasions. For being someone my daughter can not only love, but trust. When Colby found out I was pregnant... you were the first person he wanted to tell. You are his person, and I love that. I love that I have someone in my life that will be there no matter what. Whether it's a red eye flight, a late night drive of a 4am phone call.. you're there"

"You're my family Leighton. I remember when I found out you were pregnant with Gemma... just.. just wanting to help, you know? And I hated keeping the secret from Colby, it was complete and utter torture, but I kept it for you, and I knew he would understand. Just seeing G laying in a bed with a mask on her face is just.. it's heartbreaking" he exhaled, swallowing the lump in his throat, looking away from me.

"She's our little girl. I was always told it took a village to raise a baby, and without you... she wouldn't even be here with us — hey look at me" I softly demanded, Sam reluctantly turning to look at me, his eyes bloodshot red as a tear stained trail was left behind on his cheek. "You were my rock. You were there for me when no one else was. You came to the appointment so I wasn't alone. You bought the baby doppler and you stuck up for me when no one else would. Without you, I wouldn't have my beautiful baby girl and I know that. Without you taking a chance on me, I would have never met Colby" I told him sincerely, my heart clenched when I heard him sniffle. "I know it's been hard, and I'm so sorry.. but damnit, you'll always be my number one, alright? You got us in this shit, and I'll be damned if you're not also dragged through it" I grinned, seeing a smile crack on his saddened face.

"I love you, Leighton. Thank you for keeping my best friend happy. I know he can be a handful" Sam chuckled, wiping at his face.

"It has its perks, after all, I get free merch now" I joked, wiggling my eyebrows before pulling him into another hug.

The two of us walked back in and I walked over to show Colby some physical affection, Sam taking a seat as he pulled himself together.

"Everything alright?' Colby quietly asked and I nodded, bending down to kiss him.

"We'll be alright"

~

"Gemma, you need to keep your little booty on the sofa" I called after her, finding it impossible to keep this three year old seated.

Her giggles gave me heart palpitations every time I heard them, terrified she'll have another episode.

"Come on G, listen to momma" Colby encouraged from down the hall, leading her back to the couch.

"No pay wif Elle?" She pouted, her arms crossed as she stomped over towards the couch.

"Baby you need to rest" I reminded her, offering her a blanket.

"Coco no go bye bye" She frowned, Colby sighing, waiting for Sam to finish getting ready to catch his flight.

The four of us have been attached to Gemma's hip, the longest we've kept her seated was when she FaceTimed with Stas and Katrina; that was until she ran off with the phone to show them some toys.

"G, I'll come back"

"Sam go bye bye" She grumbled, her lips in an adorable pout.

"He's gotta go home to aunty Kat" I reminded her, Gemma's eyes lighting up.

"Go wif! Go see meow!" She giggled, something telling me the nickname was very intentional; she knew what she was doing.

"Did I hear someone say meow?" Sam called out, trudging a suitcase behind him.

"Yessss!" Gemma exclaimed, shooting off the couch, running over go him. "Go wif, go wif!" She begged, reaching up to tug at the end of his shirt.

Sam scooped her up, bouncing her a little on his hip, "You've gotta get big and strong to come see Kat and I" he told her, Gemma's eyebrows scrunching together.

"I big an... an stwong!" She declared, all of us smiling at her, Colby's movement catching my eyes attention as he walked to the kitchen.

My lips rolled as I kept my eyes locked on where he wandered off to, confused why he seemed so shut down again.

"You're the strongest three year old I know!" Sam exclaimed, Gemma grinning at him, her face showing complete and utter sense of pride. "When the doctor clears you, I'll sneak you to Vegas with me, okay?" Sam told her, Gemma quickly nodding her head. "Alright Baby G, I gotta go catch a flight home with Kat, alright? You're gonna be the biggest and bestest girl for your momma. Make me proud munchkin" He kissed her cheek, Gemma frowning when she was set down.

"No go" She shook her head.

"I have to go home G"

"Stayyyyy" She whined, clinging to his leg.

I went to stand up and snatch her away from him, when he crouched down to her level, quietly telling her something I couldn't hear; Gemma nodding as he stood up, Gemma coming back next to me, plopping on the cushion furthest away from me.

"Colby? You ready?" Sam called out, the sound of a drawer shutting being heard behind me.

"Yeah, one sec"

I walked Sam to the door, letting him slip on his sneakers as I did a quick checklist, making sure he had everything.

"If you want to tell Kat about the baby, you can, but I'd prefer to keep it between the four of us, just for now" 

"Yeah, totally, and I'll let you tell her. I know you guys didn't plan on telling me, but to be fair, it's very obvious when you're pregnant" he teased, my jaw dropping as I looked down at my stomach.

"Did you just call me fat?" I half joked.

Quickly shaking his head, he spoke up, his voice slightly more squeaky, "No. You're just more.. lazy and moody" He hesitantly answered.

"Me? Moody? Never" I grinned, Sam chuckling.

"Could never be Leighton" he shook his head, a big grin on his face, his cheeks tightening.

"Never" I agreed, pulling him into a quick head. "Thanks for coming, I'll miss ya loads. We'll need to catch up when I'm not feeling like actual garbage. The not so morning sickness has been brutal. Honestly, the worst part is just the constant nausea. I almost wish I would actually complete the task, whether feel like I'm always on the verge of needing to vomit"

"Was your sickness with Gemma bad?"

"Hers I think came in more waves? I'd have my good and bad days, whereas this baby is just a constant kick to my gut" I chuckled, my hand running over the small bloated area. "I'm definitely breaking out more which is annoying. I didn't have this much acne with Gemma" My pointer finger circled my face.

"Alright, we ready?" Colby spoke up, making me jump as he slipped past me, grabbing his shoes.

"Gemma, Sam's leaving, come say bye!" I called out, hearing her feet thud against the floor, her little arms spread wide as she ran towards him, Sam quickly crouching.

"Byeeeee Sammmmy!" She shrieked, Sam squishing her in a hug.

"Bye baby G. I'll call you, alright? And we'll figure out when you can come to Vegas and see Aunty Kat and I" He promises, picking her up in their hug, standing back upright.

"We should get going so you can go through check in" Colby noted, Sam nodding as he kissed Gemma's head, setting her down.

"Be good for mommy Gemma"

"I will!"

Sam walked out of the apartment and I stood still waiting for Colby to lean over and kiss me goodbye, but he kept his back to me, following Sam out.

"Hey" I called out, Sam turning to look at me, raising an eyebrow. "Colby" 

He turned around, his brow furrowed.

"Hm?"

"No hug? Kiss? I love you? What the hell?"

"Oh, sorry" He leaned over, placing a pity kiss on my cheek, my eyes narrowing as he pulled away.

"Drive safe and text me when you're there and coming back" 

I saw him nod and continue to walk down the hallway.

I waited around on the couch with Gemma, snacking on crackers and watching movies; bribing her with cookies to stay still, which I knew later would bite me in the ass as we waited for Colby to get home.

I heard the front door open, my head turning to see if it was Colby since I haven't heard from him, only to see Aaliyah.

"Oh, hey. How'd it go?" I questioned, Aaliyah sighing as she slipped her shoes off, taking a seat on the chair next to me.

"I can't get a co-signer"

"We've offered to help ya know?"

"Whatever" She grumbled, her eyes rolling.

"Not whatever. I want to help you. What part of it is frustrating? Just the co-signer part?" I quietly questioned, trying not to talk over the movie.

"That and finding an actual place, let alone a job! I shouldn't have moved to fricken Tennessee! I was doing so good until I followed him" She grumbled, slouching in the chair.

"You loved him"

"Yeah. Loves fucking stupid" She grumbled again, silence falling between us before she shoved herself out of the chair, walking past Gemma and I to her current bedroom.

I let her be alone for a while before knocking on the door, letting myself in to find her curled up on the bed, a blanket pulled up to her face.

"Hey" I spoke softly, afraid to make the wrong move. "You know you always have a room here, right? No one's kicking you out" I reminded her, slowly walking closer to the bed. "I just want you to be happy"

I heard her loudly exhale, shifting to lay on her back, so I crawled into the bed, pulling her into me.

"I'm always here, ya know? I've been through this. I understand how hard it is, and how much it sucks. Imagine being where you are, and pregnant" I joked, Aaliyah turning to look up at me, my arm wrapped around her shoulder as she leaned into my chest.

"I don't know how you did it" She whispered, a small smile pulling at my cheeks.

"You take it one day at a time. Hell, I took it one breath at a time. Sometimes that's all you can get through. It felt like I was freshly in NA meetings when I was homeless, pregnant and freshly broken up with. Inhale, exhale until you can breathe again. We'll figure it out, one breath at a time. I promise" I rested my cheek against her head.

"I love you" She whispered, and I could tell she was starting to cry, breaking my heart.

"I love you too"

~

I listened to Colby's voicemail for the 6th time, my chest tightening as I dialed it again, pacing in the kitchen as Gemma and Aaliyah conversed, Aaliyah's eyes burning a hole in my side.

You've reached the voicemail of *click*

"He's a dead man the second he walks through that door I swear to god" I complained, my hand turning white from how hard I was gripping the edges of my phone. "I said to text me. It's been hours! Sam has already texted me that he's landed!" 

"Coco come home Momma?" Gemma asked, rubbing salt into my wound.

"I don't know Gemma" I answered honestly, my forearms resting against the countertop as I collapsed into it, my head hung low.

The room fell silent.

I knew Aaliyah had no idea what to say, because point blank, Colby should be home right now.

I began our nightly routine, the apartment feeling ghostly without him.

I sat next to Gemma's toddler bed, Gemma tucked neatly under her blankets as I closed the book, her beautiful blue eyes looking up at me.

"Coco say goodnight?"

"I'm sorry lovebug. He's not home" I whispered, my hand brushing the stray pieces of hair out of her eyes. "I love you so much Gemma" 

"Wuv you!" She grinned, her head tilted back with her chin in the air getting me to let out a breathy laugh before leaning down and placing a tender kiss against her forehead. 

"You sleep good for me bug, okay? You get to see Papa tomorrow" 

"An Nonna!"

"And Nonna. Dream good dreams okay? Wanna hear about them in the morning. Can you do that snug-bug?"

She nodded, her eyes getting heavy as my hand brushed down her hair.

"Sleep well baby"

I left the door open knowing that was her preference now, grabbing my bin of laundry, turning the TV onto a soft hum as I distracted myself, every minute more agonizing than the last.

I got into a mindless routine of grabbing a clothing item, folding it and setting it aside as my mind began to wander, my eyes stinging with threatening tears as I listened to people on the Sitcom laugh; the moon only shining brighter through my apartment window as the night dragged on.

I tried him one more time, my phone reading 12%, the time telling me it was almost 2am; once again receiving his voicemail.

I let my shaky inhale pull me through the tears as I shoved the bin of folded laundry against the wall, turning off the TV and walking through the apartment, making sure all the windows were locked, the stove was off and clearing a few stray toys from the main walking spaces when I was met with the front door, the deadbolt lock staring me dead in the eye.

My fingertips brushed over the lock as I contemplated.

Did I really want to lock Colby out of the apartment he pays for?

But I live near LA. You never know what could happen.

My wrist tightened as I prepared to lock it, holding my breath, hoping to hear the trudged footsteps outside the door; a few moments slipping by until I heard the soft click of the lock, a tear rolling down my face. 

Inhale, exhale.

My shoulders dropped as I turned on my heel, flicking off the final light in the apartment, the scenery of pitch black being the nail in the coffin as I stripped out of my clothes, tossing them into the hamper; snatching Colby's discarded clothes off the floor.

Inhale, exhale.

I got myself composed enough to stop fumbling around, throwing on some shorts and a loose shirt.

I softly shut the drawer, only to be met with our empty bed.

Inhale, exhale.

I crawled into our bed, plugging in my phone and setting it aside, shifting around to get comfy, only for my eyes to land back on my phone.

Why won't he answer?

Try one more time.

Just one more time.

This is it. I can feel it.

Like muscle memory I dialed his contact, listening to the dreadful dial tone, once again getting his voicemail.

He's okay.

He has to be.

Right?

Try again.

Just once more.

He'll answer this time.

The dial tone. The anticipation. The dread. The voicemail.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Dread.

Inhale, exhale. 

Inhale, exhale. 

Inhale, exhale.

Breathe.

I scooted up in the bed, pulling open our texts, scrolling through the string of unseen messages I've sent over the past 10 hours.

Delivered. Anticipation. Dread.

I felt my finger turn off my phone, my own tear stained reflection staring back at me.

He's okay. He's just.... not answering. 

I set my phone aside, sliding back down into my covers, allowing my eyes to fall shut, instantly regretting it as memories of him breaking his leg flashed through my head.

I grabbed my phone again, finding Sam's contact, the ringing irritating me as I resisted the urge to start pacing.

I yanked my charger out, allowing myself to pace back and furth only to hear his voicemail.

I could feel my blood boil, my hand beginning to shake as I inhaled a sharp tight breath through my nose.

Inhale, exhale.

I tried Sam again, once again getting his fucking voicemail.

Before I knew it, I threw my phone across the room, it slamming into the wall, falling to the ground as I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at my roots as hot fresh tears rolled down my face; my body crumpling to the ground.

Where was he?

~

"Is it yummy?" I softly asked, Gemma happily slurping the milkshake as I dreaded going home, not wanting to be met with an empty apartment.

It had been 26 hours since I saw Colby last; it was dreadful.

Work went by agonizingly slow, every millisecond feeling longer than the last; calling and texting him on my break, only to get no response made it feel never ending.

Gemma nodded, looking up from her milkshake, making me smile when I saw she had it on her face.

"Don't drink it too fast, bug, you'll get an owie in your head" I warned, Gemma ignoring me as she guzzled it down.

We finished our milkshakes and I decided to bop around with her, wanting to kill time; the two of us grabbing take out before finally making our way home, Gemma overly excited over her french fries.

My hand reached for the door handle, clinging onto any hope I had left, praying it twisted easily; only to be met with it not budging.

Locked.

Exhale.

I painfully twisted my key in the lock, pushing the door open so Gemma could go use the bathroom. The now dark apartment haunting me once again as I flipped on the lights.

I placed her food on a plate, setting it on a table; grabbing her a juice box from the fridge.

Checking my phone once more, I sat down at the table, Colby's empty spot directly in front of me being a haunted reminder.

Impatiently waiting for Sam's text, Gemma emerged from the bathroom, running up to me with her hands in front of her.

"Feel! Wet! I wash dem!" She declared, her clearly soaked hands dripping onto my floor and pants.

"Gemma!" I shrieked, the cold water surprising me; her giggle shaking me out of my state of shock, "I see bug, please grab the towel and dry them so you can have your fries"

Halfway through dinner, Aaliyah came back and I informed her there was food in the bag for her; Aaliyah joined us at the table.

"Still no reply?" She asked, and I nodded, glancing towards my phone, praying to watch it light up. "Sam hasn't heard anything?" I shook my head, picking at my fries before rubbing my fingers together to get the salt off. "Do you think we should call the police? How long does he have to be missing for them to get involved?" 

"I don't know. I don't even know if he's missing. He's just not replying to me"

"Maybe his phone died?" She suggested and I shrugged, Gemma cutting us off to tell Aaliyah that we got milkshakes, boasting about how good it was and how her and my dad got to paint today; my brain eventually tuning her out since I already heard about her day.

"Leigh? Leighton?" Aaliyah shook my arm causing me to jump, my head snapping to look at her. "G asked you a question" She nodded towards my daughter.

"Hm?"

"Watch Punzel night?" She asked and I nodded slowly.

Inhale, exhale.

"Coco watch too?" She asked, and I shrugged, excusing myself from the table.

I listened to the dial tone again, pacing in my room.

Maybe his phone did die, but was he okay? Was he hurt? Did he need help and now he can't contact anyone? Was he in an accident? Is he a John Doe somewhere? Did he have an incident and get killed? Kidnapped? Beaten? Did he leave me? He was weird before he left.. Maybe it was a plan? He didn't take anything with him though? 

My brain continued to overanalyze until something clicked.

His meds.

I rushed over to where we kept our bottles, Colby and I normally taking them together.

I opened his bottle, dumping the pills out and began to count.

Due to me working, I've been getting up earlier than him lately, doing my routine without him.

 I trusted him to take his meds.

One, two, three, four I mindless counted, plotting the pill back into the bottle, seven, eight, nine-

I froze, my entire body tensing as I started at the multiple extra pills laying out in front of me, knowing there should only be one more.

My eyes ran over the pills, continuing to count.

15.

He hasn't taken his antidepressants in five days.

I quickly swiped them into the bottle, closing it and setting it aside, staring at it for a moment.

He hasn't taken his antidepressants.

He's been cold turkey for days.

DAYS!!!!!

"Shit" I hissed, grabbing my phone to quickly google what could happen if you missed a day or two... or five.

The more articles I read, trying to piece together if I've noticed any symptoms the more I felt myself begin to shut down.

I called him again and again and again until it told me his voicemail was full, tears streaming down my face as true panic began to set in.

My finger hovered over the 9 button, my breathing becoming a pant as I sniffled, my vision completely blurred.

I pressed into the nine, my legs bouncing as I sat criss-crossed on the floor, hitting the once twice.

Call.

I listened to the dial tone, sniffling over and over again as I struggled to breathe, the air getting knocked out of my lungs when I heard the ringing stop, a woman calmly saying;

"911, what's your emergency?"

* * * *

Sorry it's shorter than normal 😬🫠

Written on: March 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th 2023

Published on: Marc 4th 2023

Word Count: 5625

Part Eight

[kjmsupremacist]

map and constellations (chan/felix)

After their senior year of high school, Chan and his closest friends decide to go on a road trip together to close out their time as children before they move on to college. Though Chan’s excited for the trip, he knows the pressure of the next stage of their lives looms bigger on the horizon every day, and he’s not sure how well they’re all going to handle the transition, especially because they’ll be scattered across the country in the fall. Even more pressing, however, are the feelings he’s developing for his best friend, Felix.

Chapter 5   |   prev   next   mlist

Characters: Felix, Chan, the rest of skz

Genre: romance, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, coming of age, growing pains, getting together

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: mild angst, swearing

Rating: Teen & Up

Length: 3.2k

listen to the official playlist here!

Luckily for Chan, the next few days pass without incident. They hit a few national parks on the way back down the state, which means a lot of hiking, which means being too exhausted every night for Chan to even be tormented by thoughts of Felix, never mind have another dream about him since he’s not dreaming at all.

It doesn’t stop him from running his mind in circles about Felix during the day, but at least then he’s distracted and it’s mostly background noise. It’s a small mercy, but Chan’ll take anything he can get if it helps him cling to sanity a little longer.

They’re spending the last couple of days in Long Beach before finally heading home, so they’re out in the water a lot. It’s good, feels like a “real vacation” (Hyunjin’s words) instead of something more tedious. Chan reminds Hyunjin he’s not the one that’s driving for multiple hours a day, but Hyunjin just sticks his tongue out at him.

It’s the last day before they head home, and Chan is diligently laying their things out on the sand when Felix comes up to him with a sunscreen bottle in hand.

“Help me get my back?” he asks sweetly, and Chan sets down the bag he’s unpacking and holds his hand out for the sunscreen.

Felix turns, facing out to the water, and Chan shakes as he squeezes some sunscreen out onto his palm, as he presses his hands to Felix’s shoulders. His gaze wanders lower, down Felix’s back. He can’t help but admire him, admire the softness of his skin, the way his shoulders narrow into his waist, the feel of his muscles under Chan’s fingertips, all so enticing. How did Chan not realize it before? He’s in love with Felix because of course he is, because Felix is beautiful and perfect, and Chan wants to kiss him and Chan wants him, and—

“All done,” Chan says quickly, patting Felix’s back and stepping away, dropping the bottle of sunscreen on the beach towel at his feet.

Felix gives him a weird look over his shoulder, but chirps, “Thanks!” and runs down the water where a few of the others are already playing. 

Chan’s body flashes hot and cold with shame as he watches him go, heart hammering in his chest. I can’t believe I let this happen, he thinks miserably. Felix splashes into the waves and the breeze carries his laughter up the shore. I should live in salt for the things I’ve thought. Because Chan knows Felix would think it’s gross and weird, and that sends waves of disgust crawling across Chan’s skin. He could never deserve Felix, even before, but especially not now, not after all the quiet ways he’s betrayed Felix’s trust—and still, here he is, helpless.

And he knows Felix. It’s not like he’s making shit up, he knows what he likes, knows his type. He’d lent Felix an ear so many times during all his relationships in high school, offering advice, keeping secrets. Chan knows everything. He had accepted each piece of information as it came without question. He regrets it now. It’s like a court case in his head, already built and perfected, proving why Chan can never have him.

To make matters worse, he and Felix are sharing a room alone in their Airbnb. Sharing a bed, too, and Chan doesn’t have an excuse to switch. And since it’s almost time to go home, Felix has gotten much more snuggly, whiny and almost petulant when Chan tries to get him to go to sleep at a reasonable hour because he doesn’t want the trip to be over. Chan was patient with him last night, but he’s really hoping Felix will be way too worn out tonight and he’ll be able to knock out into blissful unconsciousness as soon as possible. 

But of course, he’s not so lucky. Felix is waiting in bed when Chan gets out of the shower, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on top of the covers, his tiny sleep shorts riding up and exposing the pretty skin of his upper thighs. He looks up when Chan appears and tips his head to the side, smiling softly after Chan when he pads over to his suitcase to dig around for his moisturizer.

“What?” Chan asks when he looks up to pat the lotion into his skin and catches Felix’s gaze in the mirror over the dresser. 

“Your hair’s nice when it’s wet,” Felix says. “All curly ’n’ stuff.”

“Thanks,” Chan says, confused, giving him a quick smile before finishing his skincare. When he turns, Felix is watching him rather seriously. “What?” Chan repeats.

“You’ve been avoiding me, I think,” Felix accuses softly. “Like just now. Barely met my eyes. And on the beach today. The only time we talked was when you were helping me with my sunscreen. And last night, when we were going to sleep. And when you woke up in the middle of the night a few days ago. You’re being weird.”

Chan freezes. “Um,” he manages. “I just—have a lot on my mind right now, Lix, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Felix says. “But it’s something else. It’s about me, and you can’t lie and say it isn’t because I know you, and you’re acting different. So what’s going on?”

Chan hesitates, then sits down on the bed with a sigh. He tries to come up with something to say, something that isn’t stupid and isn’t true. But his mind is all panicked white noise, and nothing he can think of feels right. The harder he thinks, the more all he can think about is how he’s never once run out of things to say to Felix. Until now. 

“If I did something,” Felix continues, tone growing more serious still, “just say so. Or if there’s—something you want to talk about. Just tell me.”

The hurt in his voice pierces through the immobilizing fog of fear in Chan’s brain. He looks up, finds Felix’s eyes, finds them wide and scared. “N-no, Lix, there’s nothing… I want to talk about. And you haven’t done something, I promise. Things are just… weird right now, I guess.”

Something sour flickers behind Felix’s eyes. “Okay,” he says flatly, dropping his gaze to his lap. “Fine.”

“Felix—” Chan reaches out and squeezes his knee. He wants to hold him, wants to cradle him into his chest and explain that things are different, that he’s sorry, that he still loves him—but he can’t. He doesn’t understand how this has gotten so difficult, how it happened so fast. Since when was there distance between Felix and him? But it’s here, proof—Chan’s hand laying light on Felix’s knee, and nothing more.  “Hey. I—I’m not trying to shut you down, okay? I just don’t know what you want me to say. If there’s something you want to talk about, let’s talk about it.”

“I don’t want you to say anything,” Felix replies. “It’s just—something feels off, and I want to know why, and I want—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “But that’s just it, I guess. It’s not your fault. You’re right, it’s just everything.”

He has to know, Chan thinks to himself. There’s no way he doesn’t know. He wants me to admit it, but he’s too kind to actually force it. Because what else could it be? His stomach turns uncomfortably. 

“Let’s just—let’s just go to sleep for now,” Chan says. Anything to be done with this conversation, though he knows his mind is going to keep him up for hours. “We still have to drive home tomorrow, and I don’t want us to get back too late or our parents are gonna be worried. We can—we can talk more once we’re home, okay?”

Felix’s eyes flick up to Chan’s. For once, Chan can’t read him. There’s something dark and stormy swirling behind his expression, only Chan doesn’t know what it is. But Felix just nods and pushes the covers back with his feet. Chan stands to get the light, then returns to the bed, sliding in next to Felix. They don’t touch.

“Night, Felix,” he says softly, uncertain.

“G’night, Chan,” Felix replies, just above a whisper.

Despite his worries, sleep finds Chan almost instantly. But his dreams are full of fear and confusion, and of Felix. By morning, he’s dreamed of confessing to him a hundred times, and he’s still exhausted.

* * *

He and Felix don’t speak when they wake. They wash up in silence, pack in silence, double- and triple-check their room in silence. Down the hall, Chan can hear the loud, happy voices of their friends, but they seem a world away. He wants to say something, but the words all get stuck in his throat. What would he say, anyway? I’m sorry, I love you? There’s nothing else for him to say at all, really, but he can’t say that, so he keeps his mouth shut.

They join the others in the kitchen for breakfast. The sun is coming through the windows, bright and cheery, but Chan hardly notices it. All he can see is Felix, out of the corner of his eye, quiet and brooding, just like him.

Eventually, though, Chan notices that a couple of the others are giving them weird looks, so he shakes himself and puts on a smile. He’s still on his vacation with all his best friends, the people he loves the most in the world, and just because things are weird between him and Felix doesn’t mean everything has to be weird. He passes coffees down the table as Minho pulls their leftovers from the microwave, and they all sit down for breakfast. 

Soon, breakfast is eaten, the dishes are cleaned and put away, and everyone is piling their belongings into the cars and getting ready to leave. It’ll be a short drive, so they have the time to go over the rooms a couple times to make sure they aren’t leaving anything behind. It’s just as well, because Jisung finds a pair of his underwear “and some other stuff” in the bathroom of the room he shared with Hyunjin. Chan doesn’t ask. 

Seungmin and Jeongin chatter happily as they pull out onto the freeway at last. Chan tries not to tap the steering wheel nervously, watching Felix out of the corner of his eye. He’s still quiet, face buried in his phone, body turned toward the door. Chan presses his lips together and refocuses on the road. 

If Seungmin and Jeongin notice anything is off with them, they don’t say anything, though Chan hopes they just assume he and Felix are tired from the trip. Things are awkward enough already; getting more people involved would only make it worse. The last thing Chan wants is for their entire friend group to be splintered right before they have to part ways. 

He drops Jeongin off first, then Seungmin, and the car goes silent save the music playing faintly through the speakers for the ten minute drive between Seungmin’s neighborhood and theirs. Chan opens his mouth to say something a couple of times, but nothing feels right. And besides, they’re stuck in a moving vehicle together. It’s probably not the best time to have a heart-to-heart.

Chan pulls into Felix’s driveway where his parents are waiting. 

“Thanks,” Felix says, unbuckling his seatbelt.

There’s a beat of silence. Felix doesn’t reach for the handle of the door. Chan doesn’t reach for his keys.

Chan looks at Felix, the way the late afternoon light catches his eyes and turns brown into honeyed gold. The soft curve of his lips. The constellations of freckles, each picked out with diligence and named with care. By him. And now, for the second time in his life, Chan doesn’t know what to say to Felix. He feels lost, untethered.

“I should go,” Felix says at last, shifting in his seat.

“Let me help you with your things,” Chan says immediately, and his chest feels tight when Felix just nods. He unbuckles his seatbelt and crawls out of the car, stiff joints shouting in protest the whole way, and goes around the back to make sure Felix has everything.

“How was the trip?” Felix’s mom asks, holding her arms out for her son.

“Good!” Felix chirps, dropping the bag he’s carrying on the sidewalk and accepting her hug. “We had a lot of fun. But I’m really tired.”

“I bet you are,” she says, laughing. “Chan, too, huh? All that driving.”

“Oh—I’m alright!” Chan tries to keep his tone light. He doesn’t know how well he succeeds. “It was easy.” His body betrays him, and he has to pause to yawn. Both of Felix’s parents laugh. The sound rings hollow in Chan’s ears, but he laughs along with them to be polite. “Okay, maybe I’m a little tired.”

“I think both of you need a home-cooked meal and a nice, long rest in your own beds,” Felix’s dad says. “Go on, Chan, we’ve got him from here. I’m sure your parents are eager to see you.”

Chan nods. “All right,” he agrees. “Have a good night!” He hesitates, then adds, “See you soon, Lix.”

“See you,” Felix tosses over his shoulder.

Chan ducks back into his car and drives it the very short distance across the street to his own house. His mom opens the front door as soon as he switches off the engine, and Chan’s little siblings squeeze out past her to help him unload.

“You were gone forever,” Lucas accuses, tugging on Chan’s arm. “And Hannah stinks at Minecraft.”

“I heard that!” Hannah calls.

Chan smiles. “We’ll play a bunch tomorrow, yeah?” he offers. “Hey, Mom.”

“Back in one piece,” she observes, sounding genuinely impressed. “Though you look exhausted. Did you guys sleep at all?”

Chan stifles another yawn. “A little,” he says, passing his stuff inside and then following, closing the door behind him.

“Well, dinner’s almost ready, so you can eat and go straight to bed if you want,” she says. “Dad should be home soon—sent him to the store to pick up dessert.”

Chan nods absently, letting his siblings drag him away. He wants to be present with his family, but he can’t help it—he’s thinking of Felix. There’s a weird feeling in his stomach, and he plays back that last conversation in his driveway. 

It almost felt like goodbye.

* * *

Chan does get good sleep that night, and wakes up late, long after his parents have gone to work. He hears his siblings downstairs and rolls over, stretching as he reaches for his phone. 

No texts from anybody. He supposes they’re all taking the day slow. Still, a strange anxiety rises in his chest. He told Felix they’d talk when they got home, but suddenly the idea of seeing him seems daunting. It’s never felt like that before.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by a loud clatter, and remembers that leaving a twelve year old in the kitchen with a nine year old is only safe for so long. He drags himself out of bed, pulling on a random pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, and shuffles downstairs to see if anything is on fire.

Luckily, the clatter was just Hannah dropping a plastic plate, and Chan helps them reach the top shelf of the freezer so they can have Eggos for breakfast. He makes coffee for himself and pours juice for the other two, and makes them help him with the dishes when they’re done. The routine of it is lulling in its familiarity, and he finds himself relaxing a little. Maybe a few days apart will help his feelings for Felix and make it easier to talk about when the time comes.

He plays Minecraft with Lucas as promised, and then they set up a Switch equipped with Mario Kart and spend the rest of the morning screaming and laughing on the couch. Hannah wins every round though Lucas is never far behind, and it only ends when Chan has to wrestle them apart because they’re both trying to tickle-sabotage each other mid-race.

They all collapse on the ground, laughing. The sound warms Chan, and though he’s weak from laughing, he feels better. “I missed you guys when I was away,” he admits breathlessly. “How were things here?”

“Bor-ing,” Lucas replies. “D’you have to go to college?”

“Unfortunately,” Chan says, craning his neck so he can see his little brother. “I wish I could stay right here with you guys. I wish everyone could stay. But… that’s not how things work, I guess.”

“Can I write you letters like how they used to do in the old days?” Lucas asks, melancholy already forgotten.

Chan laughs. “I’ll have Mom give you my new address, yeah?”

“Well, I can’t wait for you to fucking leave, because then the house will be mine,” Hannah says from his other side.

“You’re literally already the queen of this house,” Chan points out. “Also, watch your language! Where’d you learn that word?”

“What word?” Hannah asks, snarky, though she’s fighting giggles. “Fuck? From you!”

“What’s—” Lucas begins.

“No,” Chan cuts him off. “Don’t let Mom and Dad hear you saying that, it’s a bad word, and we shouldn’t say bad words. Okay, Lucas? Whatever you think you heard, forget it.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Chan,” Hannah continues blithely. “I can say what I fucking want.”

Chan deflates into the carpet. “I give up.” Lucas and Hannah laugh brightly. Lucas’s stomach then lets out a very loud and very pointed grumble, which makes all of them laugh again.

“Okay, let’s see about a snack, huh?” Chan says, peeling himself up off the floor and offering a hand each to Lucas and Hannah. 

They all head into the kitchen. Lucas entertains himself with some toys he has lying around, and Hannah settles onto a stool on the breakfast bar, watching Chan cook.

“Oppa,” she says quietly when he’s done washing the fruit. “Are you… okay?”

“Uh,” Chan says, thrown off, nearly dropping the apple he’s holding onto the floor. “Yeah, why?”

“You just seem kinda sad,” she replies, tracing the lines in the granite of the countertop with one of her index fingers. “What’s up?”

Chan heaves a sigh. “I dunno how to explain, kiddo,” he says. “It’s, um. It’s Felix, he and I—we’re just kinda going through a rough patch, that’s all. I’m… not really sure how to fix it.”

“What happened?” Hannah asks.

Chan is silent for a moment, trying to think of a way to avoid telling her the truth without lying to her face. “There are some things I need to tell him,” he says finally. “And I think he knows that. And I think he won’t like them.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Hannah says earnestly. “You guys have been friends since way before I was even born. I think you’ll manage it. You can’t just stop being friends now, not after all this time. That’s not how it works.”

“I hope you’re right,” Chan says, passing her a plate of fruit with a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome to my wisdom anytime,” she replies with a grin, and Chan exhales laughter through his nose. 

“Want anything with that?” he asks. “Peanut butter? Caramel? I know you want caramel,” he adds when Lucas pops his head up from the floor. 

“Yes, please!” they both chorus.

Chan finds his heart a little lighter. Maybe Hannah is right. What he and Felix have runs deep. If anyone can get through something like this, it’ll be them. Right?

[thebookbin]

The Lightning Thief

Rick Riordan

Publisher: Disney Hyperion Genre: middle grade, fantasy Year: 2005

I distinctly remember buying my first copy of The Lightning Thief at the Scholastic Book Fair in third grade. It was 2005, mini erasers, scented pencils, and grippers were all the rage in elementary school. The cover looked a lot different then, all white with lemon-yellow Word Art for the title and an ugly lightning bolt across the cover with various monster from the book clawing out. I still have it. It's one of my prized possessions.

Reading this again as an adult is such a different experience, I almost regret it. There is so much nostalgia associated with this story. Honestly there's nothing I can say about it that hasn't been said before. All I can do is convey how I relate to this story.

The book is undeniably funny. I remembered that as a kid. It also reminds me how much I love chapter titles and they should come back, and not just for middle-grade. The plot moves extremely quickly, it's a little bit jarring to my adult 27 year-old brain. Then of course is the gut reaction of "I'm calling CPS on Chiron these are CHILDREN and you sent them across-country ALONE your camp counselor license has been REVOKED." Also my perspective on Poseidon has changed. Before I understood. He's a god. He's all-powerful. Now, I'm like "You don't want to be his dad? Too bad, I'm his dad now! We're going fishing!" Metaphysical powers do not excuse shitty parenting.

I'm excited to continue rereading this series because I expect I will relate to older-Percy a lot more. I remember that they do get a little more serious as they go on. But even in this one, the fact that Percy's mom was abused. And they literally had a conversation about murdering Percy's stepfather. I mean, luckily Sally didn't make him do it, but still. Also I remember Luke's betrayal being so dark and harsh, but on the other end, I think he's so lame for having a nemesis who is twelve years old when he's like 20. That's embarrassing, dude.

Other than that, I just want to reminisce. These books aren't for me anymore. I grew out of them. I will always cherish these books for the wonder they brought to Little Casey, but Old Casey can't quite suspend her disbelief to sink back into that world, and it makes me a a bit sad. I guess that's the nature of growing up. But I hope this story remains just as magical for all the new Little Caseys out there.

storygraph | bookshop.org | local houston

★★★★ nostalgic sarcastic tween stars

[wellbeing-in-your-office]

National Grief Awareness Week: How to Find Support During a Difficult Time

National Grief Awareness Week: How to Find Support During a Difficult Time

Grief and loss are universal experiences, touching us all at different moments in our lives. Yet these inevitable elements of the human condition are often met with silence, resulting in feelings of isolation and misunderstanding. During National Grief Awareness Week, we aim to highlight the importance of discussing and understanding grief, both in our personal lives and in the workplace. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into various aspects of grief, providing valuable insights to help individuals and workplaces navigate through these challenging periods with resilience and empathy. We will cover the common stages of grief, different types of grief experiences, strategies for self-care and coping at work, when to seek professional help, and more. We strive to foster a culture that acknowledges grief, supports those experiencing loss, and ultimately enhances the overall wellbeing of the workplace.

What is Grief Awareness Week?

National Grief Awareness Week 2023 runs from 2 to 8 December in 2023. It is an annual event held to raise understanding around grief, provide education, and help people who are grieving feel less alone in their journey. The aim of Grief Awareness Week is to bring greater understanding of the grieving process, so anyone working through personal loss or supporting others through difficult transitions can feel heard, acknowledged, and empowered. Grief is a natural response to loss that can affect all aspects of your life. It may involve a range of emotions from deep sadness to anger, and can disrupt your sleep, appetite, energy levels, ability to concentrate, and more. While an extremely challenging experience, grief is a normal and expected part of coping with the loss of a loved one, job, pet, move across country or any other significant life change. The core goals of National Grief Awareness Week are to: - Normalise talking about grief and bereavement - Provide opportunities for hope and healing - Educate communities about the impact of grief - Connect individuals who are grieving with resources

National Grief Awareness Week: What are the 5 Stages of Grief?

Grief is a natural reaction to loss that involves going through different emotional stages. According to the Kübler-Ross model, there are 5 common stages of grief: Denial Denial is usually the first reaction to loss. During this stage, individuals deny the reality of the loss. They may feel shock and numbness, and behave as if the loss hasn't happened. Denial protects them from experiencing the intensity of the pain all at once. Anger As denial fades, the next stage is anger. Reality sets in, and this often manifests as frustration, irritability, and resentment. People may lash out during this stage and question "why me?". Anger can be directed at different targets like doctors, loved ones, fate, or even the deceased. Bargaining Once anger begins to fade, bargaining sets in. People start to negotiate for more time or a second chance, promising things will be different. Guilt is a common feeling during this stage. Individuals may dwell on regrets or think of ways the loss could have been prevented. Depression After bargaining, the grieving person is beginning to understand the certainty of the loss. They may feel profound sadness and loneliness. Crying spells, changes in appetite, and trouble sleeping are common. They may isolate themselves from family and friends. Acceptance This final stage represents acknowledging and making peace with the loss. There may still be moments of sadness, but the intense pain begins to lift. People start to reengage with life and envision a new future. They accept that life is different now. It's important to note people may move back and forth between these stages in a nonlinear fashion. There is no set timeline, and each person grieves differently based on factors like their relationship to the deceased and coping abilities. While common patterns exist, grief is a deeply personal journey.

Grief Awareness Week: Types of Grief

Grief can take many forms depending on the relationship with the deceased, the nature of the death, and other factors. Understanding the different types of grief can help identify the root of painful emotions and lead to more effective coping strategies. Anticipatory Grief Anticipatory grief occurs when someone is expecting the death of a loved one. This often happens when a family member has a terminal illness. Knowing that death is imminent can allow for preparation and closure, but it also means grieving the loss before it has occurred. Emotions during anticipatory grief can include depression, extreme sadness, and anxiety. This type of grief can complicate the ability to cope once the death actually happens. Disenfranchised Grief Disenfranchised grief refers to grief over a loss that is not socially recognised or openly acknowledged. For example, grieving the death of an ex-spouse, a coworker, or a pet may not be considered as legitimate as grieving the loss of a current spouse or family member. However, the sense of loss is just as real. Disenfranchised grief can lead to deeper feelings of isolation and lack of emotional support. Complicated Grief Complicated grief is a severe form of grief that worsens over time instead of gradually getting better. Symptoms include intense sorrow, bitterness, inability to enjoy life, depression, and trouble carrying out normal daily activities for an extended period. Complicated grief may stem from the nature of the relationship or death, lack of social support, concurrent life stressors, or vulnerability to intense emotions in general. If complicated grief lasts for more than 6 months, professional help may be beneficial.

National Grief Awareness Week: Grief vs Depression

Grief and depression can look very similar on the surface, with shared symptoms like sadness, trouble sleeping, changes in appetite, fatigue, and lack of enjoyment in daily activities. However, there are some key differences between the two conditions: - Timeframe - Grief is a natural response to loss that typically decreases over time, while depression is more persistent and recurrent. The sadness of grief gradually gives way to healing and acceptance, but depressive episodes can last for weeks or longer without treatment. - Cause - Grief is caused by bereavement or loss, whereas depression often arises for other reasons. Depression may require medical treatment even in the absence of a major loss. - Self-esteem - People experiencing grief often maintain normal self-esteem. Depression frequently involves distorted, excessively negative thoughts about oneself. - Daily functioning - The pain of grief may make it hard to focus, but grief usually does not severely impair one's ability to function. Depression can make it extremely difficult to concentrate, work, or handle daily responsibilities. - Guilt - Guilt is common with grief, but more often focused on regrets around the loss or lost opportunities. Guilt in depression is pervasive and disproportionate, impairing self-image. - Hopelessness - Grief involves sadness and longing, but the bereaved can maintain hope and anticipate things improving. Feelings of hopelessness are more characteristic of depression. - Suicidal thoughts - Thoughts of wanting to join lost loved ones are common with grief. Actual suicidal ideation is more serious and suggests clinical depression. Getting professional support can help identify whether grief has progressed to clinical depression. Treatments for depression include therapy and medication, allowing one to process grief without being weighed down by prolonged, deep clinical depression.

Self-Care While Grieving

Grieving can be an emotionally and physically exhausting process. That's why it's crucial to practice self-care during this difficult time. Self-care helps replenish your mental, emotional and physical energy so that you can better cope with grief. Here are some self-care tips: Get enough sleep. Grief can cause sleep disruptions, like insomnia. Try to stick to a regular sleep schedule and wind down before bedtime. Limit electronics use before bed, do relaxing activities, and make your bedroom a sleep sanctuary. Eat healthy, nourishing foods. Stress affects appetite, so you may not feel like eating. But good nutrition provides energy and supports your immune system. Eat a balanced diet with plenty of whole foods. Stay hydrated and limit junk food. Exercise regularly. Physical activity naturally boosts endorphins to lift your mood. It also relieves stress and promotes better sleep. Start with gentle activities like walking, yoga or swimming. Even a short walk daily can help. Practice relaxation techniques. Deep breathing, meditation, massage and warm baths activate the body's relaxation response. This calms the mind and body. Set aside time every day for whatever relaxation methods work for you. Connect with supportive loved ones. Your social circle can lift you up during this hard time. Spend time with caring friends and family who comfort and reassure you. Let them know how they can best support you. Avoid risky coping mechanisms. It may be tempting to try and numb your pain, but unhealthy habits like overeating, excess alcohol and drug use only complicate grief. Focus on positive coping strategies instead. Make time for joy. Laughter and lighthearted moments provide a break from sadness, though you may feel guilty. It's healthy to enjoy yourself sometimes. Engage in hobbies you like and do pleasant distractions. Practicing self-compassion and care helps you manage grief in a constructive way. Don't neglect your wellbeing during this vulnerable time. https://wellbeinginyouroffice.com/how-to-talk-about-mental-health-at-work/ How to talk about mental health at work

When to Seek Professional Help

During National Grief Awareness Week it's important to emphasise that grief is a natural response to loss, but sometimes it can become complicated or unresolved. Here are some signs that it may be time to seek professional help with your grief: - Your mood is stuck in depression, anger, or sadness, and does not improve over time. - Months have passed, but your grief remains intensely painful and debilitating. - You have trouble accepting the reality of your loss. - You avoid reminders of your loved one and isolate yourself from others. - Destructive behaviors like substance abuse or recklessness appear. - You have thoughts of suicide or dying so you can be with your loved one. - Your relationships and ability to function at work or home are suffering. Seeking counselling or talking therapy can help if you are having trouble moving forward from your grief. A mental health professional can: - Provide a safe space to process and make meaning of your loss. - Teach coping techniques to work through "stuck" grief. - Help identify and resolve possible complications like trauma, guilt, or regret. - Assist you in rebuilding your life after loss. - Refer you to support groups where you can connect with others experiencing similar grief. - Provide guidance if grief has triggered a crisis of faith or purpose. The point is that help is available if your grief feels endless or overwhelming. With professional guidance, you can find a path forward and hope. Seeking support is brave, not weak. Counseling can help restore a sense of meaning and peace after a major loss.

National Grief Awareness Week: Tips for Coping with Grief at Work

When an employee is grieving the loss of a loved one, it can be a very difficult time for them both emotionally and practically. As managers and co-workers, there are some important things we can do to support them during this period. Grief Awareness Week: Tips for managers - Allow for flexibility with their work. Understand that their productivity may be impacted in the initial grieving period. Allow them to work flexibly, take time off as needed, temporarily adjust responsibilities etc. Don't penalise them if they need to take more time away from work. - Check in regularly. Set up periodic check ins to see how they are coping and if they need any additional support. But don't force them to talk if they aren't ready. - Ease their workload. Consider temporarily reducing their workload or reassigning urgent/high priority tasks if the grieving is impacting their bandwidth. Don't overburden them during this sensitive time. - Review bereavement leave policy. Ensure you have a bereavement policy that allows for adequate time off to grieve, attend services etc. Follow policy guidance on how much time can be taken. - Be understanding. Recognise that grief affects people differently. Be patient and understanding if they are having trouble concentrating, seem disconnected, or need more time away. Don't make them feel guilty for being in mourning. https://wellbeinginyouroffice.com/why-is-health-and-wellbeing-important-in-the-workplace/ Why is health and wellbeing important in the workplace? Grief Awareness Week: How to Support a Grieving Coworker - Offer condolences. Take time to extend sympathies and let them know you are thinking of them. But don't offer platitudes, just listening can be more helpful. - Check in periodically. Continue to check in periodically over the coming weeks and months. Grief can be a long process, so keep tabs on how they are coping over time. - Listen without judgement. Provide a listening ear if they need to talk about their loss or remember their loved one. Don't try to tell them how to feel. - Offer help. See if there are any practical ways you can help, by covering some of their workload, helping with admin tasks etc. Don't take over their major responsibilities, just help ease the daily workload. - Be understanding. Recognise that everyone grieves differently, so be patient and understanding if they behave differently. Don't take it personally if they seem disconnected. Making grief support part of your work culture is important. With empathy, flexibility and compassion, we can make the workplace a little easier for grieving colleagues.

Grief Awareness Week: Bereavement Leave

Bereavement leave policies allow employees time off from work to mourn, attend services, and manage affairs after the loss of a close family member. This time may be paid, allowing the grieving individual to take care of responsibilities without losing income during an already difficult time. Many companies have bereavement leave policies, either as part of their general paid time off programs or as a separate category of leave. Policies vary in the amount of leave provided. Some companies may specify a set number of days, whilst others will make their decision on a case-by-case basis. Some key aspects of bereavement leave may include: https://wellbeinginyouroffice.com/benefits-of-being-in-nature/ Benefits of Being in Nature: how spending time outdoors can transform your life - Covered Relationships: Bereavement leave usually covers immediate family (spouse/partner, parents, siblings, children) and in some policies extended family (grandparents, in-laws, aunts/uncles). The company's policy will specify which relations qualify. - Paid vs Unpaid - Verification: The company may request verification of the death, such as an obituary or death certificate. - Flexibility: Some companies allow flexibility in when the leave is taken, such as time off for estate planning after the services. Bereavement leave acknowledges the need for employees to grieve without jeopardising their job or income. This time protects both the employee and employer, while supporting the employee through loss.

Grief Awareness Week: Conclusion

National Grief Awareness Week serves as an important reminder that grief is a natural response to loss that deserves understanding and support. Though grief can be intensely painful and disruptive, it is possible to move through it in a healthy way with self-compassion, professional help when needed, and support from employers and coworkers. The key points to remember include: - Grief comes in many forms and progresses through stages, though not always linearly. Feelings of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are all normal parts of the grieving process. - Types of grief like anticipatory, acute, chronic, exaggerated, prolonged, complicated, collective, and disenfranchised grief all deserve equal compassion and care. - While grief and depression share some symptoms, they are distinct conditions. Grief is a response to loss that fluctuates but gradually improves over time, while clinical depression is more persistent and may require professional treatment. - Self-care strategies like allowing time for emotions, journaling, joining a support group, and practicing relaxation techniques can help you grieve in a healthy way. Seek counseling if grief feels unresolvable. - Coworkers can provide much-needed support by listening without judgement, acknowledging the loss and the griever's pain, offering practical help, and gently encouraging professional assistance if needed. - Employers should have bereavement leave policies allowing adequate time off for grieving, and foster a compassionate workplace culture that validates loss. Grief is a fact of life, but how we respond to it matters. As individuals and organisations, we must strive to understand grief and support those going through the painful but necessary process of saying goodbye.

Disclaimer: The information provided in this article is intended for general knowledge and educational purposes only. It should not be construed as professional health, legal, or business advice. Readers should always consult with appropriate health professionals, human resource experts, or legal advisors for specific concerns related to mental health and wellbeing in the workplace. Read the full article

[bookloveravenue]

The Loyal Boys (book 3): Lost Boy by Charli Meadows

Fallon

Being alone is nothing new. I’ve been abandoned by everyone. Now, I have absolutely no one. I might even prefer it that way. All I really need is a guitar and my thoughts.

Just shy of my eighteenth birthday, I’m forced to move across the country to live with my uncle in California. He’s the head basketball coach at Acadia Lake Prep, the new private academy I’m attending. Ryder Cruz is his star player.

He makes me question things about myself and what I want. Things I’ve never once considered. The oversized and enthusiastic jock is always around, insisting I smile and laugh with him. But it won’t work. It can’t. The painful memories and regret I carry are too strong. I’m not sure I’ll ever feel again.

Ryder

Basketball is great. So are my friends. Dad. My little sister Sofie. I’m team captain, and I’m taking us to State.

It’s easy to forget that nothing is ever as it seems. I fight my demons with smiles and awkward jokes, but things are starting to pile up. Pranks between my guys and the rival public school, issues with my mother, and a secret I can’t tell anyone. A truth that holds me in its grasp. I can’t risk the team or my college acceptance—my future . Can’t risk my dream.

I’m gay. And no one can know.

It wasn’t as hard to keep this close to my chest until Fallon Rivers showed up with his big, sad eyes and bright blue hair. I’m not sure I can continue hiding who I am. I need this boy to smile. To talk to me. I need to spark some life back into his soul.

He doesn’t realize my dad and his uncle are partners, but he’ll find out soon enough. Sleepovers happen almost every weekend. And now that he’s here and staying for good, I guess he’ll just have to get used to my presence. Because I’m determined to make him feel again and maybe even free myself along the way.

Lost Boy is a 90,000-word friends-to-lovers gay romance. It is book three in The Loyal Boys Series, a collection of standalone contemporary M/M romances. You can expect opposites attract, forced proximity, hurt/comfort, steamy first times, and a supportive found family. This novel is intended for 18+ readers and contains explicit scenes, mild violence, language, and bullying from outside sources. See Author’s Note for a full list of Content Warnings.

********

June 25, 2023

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Loving this series! This series has really grabbed me and this latest one is just another great addition! Fallon has been numb since his dad died. He lost not only his dad but his mom went off the deep end doing drugs, dating awful men, and it finally comes crashing down on her when she gets thrown in jail. When Fallon’s uncle Joel, his dad’s brother, comes to pick him up and bring him back to California with him, Fallon doesn’t expect much. He figures it will only be a matter of time before Joel doesn’t want him either. And with the numbness settling in more and more, he doesn’t seem to care. But Joel won’t give up on his nephew and he isn’t alone in that quest. Ryder is the son of Joel’s boyfriend. Ryder and his sister have been part of Joel’s family for the last few years and he knows that will never change. Their family is tight. When he first meets Fallon, he can see the sadness in him right away and he swears right there that he will make Fallon smile. What Ryder doesn’t expect is to fall for Fallon so fast. Not when he told himself he wouldn’t come out until his plans to play basketball in college is safe. He never wanted to risk his future not until Fallon. And for Fallon, being around Ryder makes him feel safe. Something he never had. And bit by bit, Ryder is squashing the numbness that has overtaken Fallon and for the first time in a long time, Fallon feels something. He is slowly waking up and learning what it is to be loved. Their story was just so sweet. They were this perfect example of opposites attract and balancing one another is really nice ways. I couldn’t put this story down! Definitely a favorite from this series.

[sammyisfat]

So my Dad has been battling cancer for almost a decade, and is in remission. But now his kidneys are only functioning at 22% and they have an infection that can’t be treated. So, we’re just waiting. He’s been steadily declining the last two weeks.

This is causing me to spiral. I’m feeling like I’m stranded in the ocean in an inflatable boat with duck tape covering the holes, I can see the shore but it’s so out of my reach and I don’t think I can stay alive to make it there.

I don’t regret my hysterectomy but it was my first surgery and was major. It caused me a lot of trauma mentally and physically. It’s been 5 years almost, and since it’s happened I’ve just been in a downward spiral.

I met a guy and got engaged after 6 weeks, and married within a year. I met him 3 months after my surgery. At the height of a heavy dissociation. And I went back to school without thinking it through clearly.

I was terrified to go back to my management job because my boss would constantly call me an idiot, treat me like I was trash, and would send me to work in various stores but wouldn’t pay me for my travel or pay me an active managers wage to make up for that.

So I went back to school, but then I started developing chronic pain that makes being active so painful. The pain is where my right incision from my hysterectomy is, and where my former cervix used to be. And no drs are listening to me. It’s compromised my mental health to the point I was so unreliable I was struggling to show up for work. Between the pain and my mental health.

And then in the fall of 2020, I was in a car accident. The crash was fairly minor but I hit my head off the windshield not hard enough to crack glass but enough to do damage. Where I hit my head is the area that controls your ability to mask and control your anxiety.

I lost mine. And my short term memory has been affected. Due to this, I had to end my lease and move in with my parents in a whole new province from where I had built a new life. I was suffering from insomnia due to the accident.

And I was prescribed sleep pills, I had never taken any before. And they would knock me out for 10 hours sometimes until I built up a tolerance. And I kept waking up in pain. But I found out my partner had been having sex with me in my sleep, because I wouldn’t wake up. And I never consented to it.

This had been the start of things, and then later that winter I found out I was losing my apartment and my jobs. My spiral has gotten worse since these events.

An anon account came forward on IG and accused my partner of cheating. But there hadn’t been any proof. No screenshots or any information regarding where I could find info. This had caused a riff between us.

When we moved to Ontario, his family basically disowned him. And so even though I want and need out. I feel responsible for him. He moved halfway across the country for me. I’ve tried telling him we’re not good for each other, his mental health is impacting mine and vice versa. And I can’t be a good partner right now.

We haven’t been intimate in 3 years. We tried on my bday but he changed his mind so we stopped. So we’re more like roommates at this point.

I’m feeling so trapped and alone. I just can’t handle it all anymore. I went to hospital in ‘22 for a month. But they refused to really help me, because I have borderline personality disorder. And they would just tell me to do DBT when I got out of the hospital.

But I was then and now at such a low baseline I am barely surviving. I am not eating. I’m not sleeping. My pain is at an all time high. I can’t keep track of days. I thought it was still the 15th for 8 days.

I’m just existing. And I don’t want to anymore. I had to flush all my sleeping pills because I didn’t trust myself not to take them all before bed. So I’m just sleeping maybe 2 hours at night. Because I can’t take sleep meds without feeling triggered and unsafe.

I’ve never said anything to anyone really about this. I tell bits and pieces but it a hard to admit the truth and be honest about what my last 5 years have been. And I am so tired.

[jamesgalgano]

VINCENT J. GALGANO, MY FATHER, MY LOVE , MY LIFE!

Vincent Galgano , my father , my love my life By james a galgano

Time has too many ways of playing tricks upon your unchosen life There is some pseudo truism which states the good die young This may be true, but they did not know my father, Vincent who died today At the age of 104 years young as he and his memory will remain forever to me He was a good honest loving husband and father for as far as the eyes can see still Born to immigrant parents who travelled to find their dreams passing through liberty They fell on hard times during the Great Depression their father unable to find work Chose another path to help his family survive running a speak easy until he died My father’s brothers helped there dad anyway they could until his life was taken short away Leaving Antonio, Frankie, Vincent, Angie and Mikey to help their mom my grandmother dear When World War two hit our shores 3 of the brothers signed up to protect democracy Antonio and Frankie spent time fighting overseas, my dad remained behind helping our cause First as a mechanic, servicing vehicles destined for the battle lines changing with each year Then as a master sergeant training integrated forces to learn to do the same across USA He married Carmela Ammirati , my mother and became father of a daughter Elaine at 24 After, WW2 ended he took a mechanic job for buses in New York City , Where I was born 1952 When my brother Anthony was born in 1953, our parents moved us to oceanside by the sea My dad became involved in union politics becoming shop steward then president of his branch Yet even after his job his and my mom’s dream was to one day own a house of their very own In 1958, he got a job in the post office as a carrier and moved us to Commack further east By 1959 after my sister Gloria was born, dad became involved once more in union there Becoming Commack postal workers elected representative and the local’s democratic chair Nevertheless, to meet mortgage demands he took addition jobs to meet rising costs He worked these jobs not only for this but to also give each of us a catholic school education By 1967, my parents grew tired of this life and chose to take us to Arizona to try once more It took my father until 1968 when he became permanent and was once more elected union rep He did this until the day he retired in 1979, after moving my mom to a new home in Mesa He told me he regretted this early retirement he did so until the day he died 12/15/2021 Even though my father many years worked 2 or 3 jobs after work, he often took tony and I When he cooked at Long Island Arena for all events then cleaned up after we often were there With him to watch every event and to help him clean arena seats after every event, Where we met circus performers, hockey players, wrestlers, roller rink players, and the like With my mother, he took us where they saved throughout the year to spend summer vacations In Lake George where we discovered folk music and protest music then being born anew Or Hyanis Port, where we met Bobby Kennedy walking with his family on Hyanis streets My dad drove us across country from New York showing us the nation as all should see He was and will always be my hero. He never looked for recognition of fame only to help others Instilling in each of us that all are created equal and must be treated same way no matter what When my took ill he cared for 17 years until she gave up the ghost to escape excruciating pain After my mom died 2009, I returned on my sabbatical and each summer to care for him there He always remained political and active in union until day he finally departed from view Yet, no matter this he will remain my love, my hero, my guide through this my life through Knowing we had a loving mother like Carmela and role model like Vincent we were never alone They gave us love support with what little they had to make our house a loving home