#only that my partner did A Thing 12 years ago

[1zashreena1]

Got these today

And knew immediately what needed to be done

tiny doritos: superior

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 02

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

word count — 12.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, smoking, alcohol use, mature themes, and depictions of illness. reader discretion is advised.

author's note — yeeaaaah, guess who's back with a fresh new chapter !! i know, i know, it's been forever since i last posted, but here we go, be prepared to die from second-hand embarrassment. massive thank you to @nanamis-baker for beta reading and calling me out on my plot holes. & as always, this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting after ch 12. but you can read it as a standalone.

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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You never thought you'd find yourself in the chemistry lab on a Saturday morning, but there you were, helping your best friend Megumi set up his experiment for his thesis presentation. 

You were a law student, not a scientist.

The closest you'd come to a lab was binge-watching "Breaking Bad" on Netflix.

But Megumi was your ride-or-die since kindergarten, so when he called you at the crack of dawn, frantically rambling about his professor, his thesis, and some chemical you couldn't even pronounce, you threw on your favorite hoodie and raced over to campus.

"Okay, so where do we start?" you asked, eyeing the array of beakers, test tubes, and Bunsen burners that looked like they belonged in a mad scientist's lair.

Megumi ran his fingers through his messy black hair, a habit he'd had since childhood whenever he was stressed. "Well, first we need to mix these two solutions." He handed you a beaker filled with a clear liquid.

You took the beaker gingerly, as if it might explode at any moment. "You sure you trust me with this? I mean, I don't even remember the last time I was in a lab."

"I have faith in your ability to follow instructions," he said.

You eyed him wearily. 

What have you gotten yourself into?

You spent the next hour mixing, measuring, and occasionally cursing under your breath when something didn't go quite right. As you worked, your mind drifted to your internship at the most prestigious (and pretentious) law firm in the city that had started a few weeks ago. It already felt like the most stupid thing on earth happening to you.

Okay, okay, you had applied there yourself. But you didn't think they would actually accept you. 

Unlucky luck or so.

The first week at Nishimura and Asahi had been a total nightmare. The law world was nothing but cutthroat competition, where even the coffee machine seemed to be judging you. That must have been the reason why you spilled coffee on your shirt on the second day of your internship. And you had nothing to change into. 

And yes, you had a meeting that day too.

But the worst part was that mortifying incident in your first week. You accidentally barged into the wrong office and caught two senior partners in a, uh, very compromising position. Let's just say the image of their shocked faces and scrambled clothes was forever burned into your brain. You swore you'd never enter another office again unless you absolutely had to.

Thank goodness for Mr. Higurama, your advisor. He was the only sane person in this whole place. If it weren't for his calm attitude and genuine support, you'd probably have been back at law school by now, rocking back and forth in a corner.

The third week? Bearable. But worse in its own way. Endless boring tasks and emails that were basically passive-aggressive warfare. And then, just when you thought it couldn't get any more uncomfortable, HR reminded you in week three that you still hadn't turned in your health certificate. 

At least you managed to do that.

It reminded you of a certain—date, or no, meeting? appointment? Or what was it?—You had with your doctor. 

Oh god, what were you thinking?

"Okay, so now I need you to hold this," Megumi said, handing you a graduated cylinder filled with a bright blue liquid that looked suspiciously like something toxic.

"What is this stuff?" you asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Just a harmless indicator solution," he assured you. "It'll change color when the reaction is complete."

"Great," you said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "So, basically, I'm holding a ticking time bomb that's going to turn purple and explode all over me if we mess this up?"

"Not quite. But try not to spill it, okay?"

You tried not to look at the potentially toxic thing in your hand while you rambled to yourself again in your mind. Where were you? Oh right, what the hell were you thinking about going out with the very person who saw your health history? In what world was that appropriate?

"What is it?" Megumi asked, ripping you out of your thoughts.

Just now, you realized that you must have had some weird facial expression, and you quickly straightened it. "Nothing."

He looked at you with a deadpan face. "I think I've known you long enough to know when something is going on.”

You sighed and then started. "I swear, these people at the law firm are the worst. All sharks in tailored suits and ties. Everyone's constantly trying to one-up each other, backstabbing, and throwing people under the bus left and right."

"Sounds delightful," Megumi said dryly.

"Oh, it gets better," you continued, warming to your subject. "There's this one guy, Chad—I don't even know his real name, but I call him that 'cause he's got one of those typical douchebag faces—and he's like the walking stereotype of every jerk law student you can imagine. He's so full of himself, talks down to everyone, and thinks he's God's gift to law or whatever."

"And he's at your internship?"

"Unfortunately, yes," you said, making a face. "He's always trying to make me look bad, steal my ideas, and just generally ruin my day. It's like having an annoying mosquito buzzing in your ear 24/7."

"Sounds like a real charmer.”

"You have no idea," you said with a sigh. "And the worst part is, he's not even the only one. There's this whole group of them—like a 'Chad Pack'—and they seem to enjoy making the rest of us feel incompetent. He's just a spoiled rich kid, and his dad is a big shot at the firm, so he gets away with everything. I can't even call him out on his bullshit without risking my internship. It's like being back in high school with the bullies."

"See the positive, at least you haven't caught any more senior partners in compromising positions again, right?"

"Oh god, don't remind me!" You covered your face with your hands. "I swear, the senior partners can't even look me in the eye anymore—"

You got cut off by a loud pop and a cloud of smoke billowing from one of the test tubes. You both jumped back, coughing and waving your hands to clear the air.

"What the hell was that?" you sputtered, your eyes watering from the acrid smell.

Megumi peered at the smoking test tube, his brow furrowed. "I think we may have added too much of the catalyst," he said, scribbling furiously in his lab notebook.

"You think? Oh god, I'm going to die here."

"At least that would save you from your internship?" he said.

You eyed him, deadpan.

Just as Megumi glanced up, likely ready with another witty comment, the lab door swung open with a bang, startling you both. "Hey, losers!" Nobara's cheerful voice echoed through the lab, her laughter filling the room.

Losers. 

That's what Nobara affectionately calls your little mismatched group. And maybe she's right. You're an unlikely quartet, brought together by chance during your first year of university. Megumi, the chemistry nerd. Nobara, the wild-child pharmacy student. Yuji, the sports freak. And you, the aspiring lawyer who's beginning to question her life choices.

You don't quite fit in with the typical crowds in your respective fields. You guess you could say you were the outsiders, the misfits, the ones who gravitated towards each other because you didn't quite belong anywhere else.

You'd known Megumi since childhood, but you met Nobara and Yuji during the first few weeks of university at a rather uneventful mixer where you were essentially the only people not already in groups.

Yeah, you were losers, but at least you were in it together.

Without waiting for an invitation, Nobara plopped herself down on the lab bench, right next to Megumi's carefully arranged experiment. "So, how's the science project going?" she asked, curiously examining the colorful liquids bubbling in the beakers.

"Just trying to survive Megumi's thesis experiment," you replied.

Megumi raised an eyebrow. "Actually, it's going pretty well. We're nearly finished preparing."

Undeterred, Nobara hopped off the bench and slung an arm around your shoulders. "Blink three times if I should get you out of here."

"Please," you said.

"So, what are you two up to today? Any exciting plans?" Nobara asked, glancing over at Megumi. "We should grab some lunch. Yuji is finishing up his training soon, too."

You glanced at the clock on the lab wall, expecting it to be around 10 a.m. Your jaw dropped. "It's already noon?! How did that happen?"

Nobara grinned. "Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

"Or when you're stressing over a chemistry experiment," Megumi said, scribbling more notes.

You turned to Nobara. "How's that thesis treating you?" you asked, knowing the final thesis was looming over all of your heads. That's why you were all at the university, even on the weekends.

She shrugged. "It's fine, I guess. Boring, but whatever. It's gotta get done." Then, her face brightened. "But hey, guess what? There's this huge party coming up next weekend! It's hosted by some med students from another university."

Megumi and you exchanged puzzled glances. "Why would we go to a party with a bunch of med students we don't even know?" you asked.

Nobara's eyes sparkled. "Apparently, the guy hosting it is loaded, and rumor has it, this party is going to be wild."

"Wild how?" Megumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Think open bar, live DJ, even a pool," Nobara said dramatically. "Plus, it's a chance to meet new people, expand our social circles."

"You mean meeting future doctors?" you said, knowing that Nobara always dreamed of dating one. She watched way too much Grey's Anatomy. Dating a doctor is probably not as much fun as it seems.

"Hmm, maybe," she said with a sly grin.

You hesitated. Parties weren't really your scene, and the idea of mingling with a bunch of strangers, especially med students with a reputation for being wild, arrogant, and having god complexes didn't exactly appeal to you. 

They probably strut around like they've discovered the cure for brain tumors while the rest of us mere mortals are just trying to figure out how to parallel park. Yeah. No, thank you.

Nobara sensed your hesitation. "Please, do it for me," she said, batting her eyelashes at you.

"Okay," you said, surprising even yourself. Damn, you were really easy to convince. "Count me in."

Nobara squealed and threw her arms around you. "Yes! This is going to be awesome!"

Megumi simply shook his head. "I guess I'm going too, then."

"Now that that is settled," Nobara said, playfully clapping her hands together. "Wrap up your little experiment, science boy, so we can go get some food. I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure she's about to pass out from low blood sugar." She pointed at you.

"Almost done," Megumi assured her, carefully transferring a final solution into a test tube. "Just need to record a few more readings."

Nobara bounced on her heels. "Come on, hurry up! The world is waiting for us!"

Megumi rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. I'm done. Let's go."

He quickly tidied up his workstation, meticulously storing his precious samples and equipment. Meanwhile, Nobara was already halfway out the door, her excited chatter echoing down the hallway.

You grabbed your bag and followed them out of the lab, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The experiment was done, lunch was just around the corner, and a wild party awaited you all next weekend. Maybe university wasn't so bad after all. 

Or maybe it was just the promise of mediocre cafeteria food and great friends that made everything seem a little bit brighter.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

After lunch with your friends, you found yourself back in the comfort of your small apartment. You pulled out your paints and a fresh canvas, and before you knew it, hours had passed without you even realizing it. The daylight faded into a soft golden glow as the sun began to set.

You were just adding the finishing touches to your painting when your eyes happened to glance at the clock on the wall. "Oh shit," you said, slapping your forehead with your paint-covered hand, leaving a vibrant streak of blue across your skin. 

You had a... date? No, wait, a meeting... or was it an appointment? Because he was a doctor technically, right? 

Quickly setting your paints and brushes aside, you rushed to the bathroom to clean up, silently cursing yourself for getting so caught up in your painting that you nearly missed the time.

You arrived at the sports bar with a nervous flutter in your stomach. 

This wasn't a date, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time. It was just a casual meeting with someone you'd recently met. Nothing more. Definitely nothing romantic. No hidden agendas, no expectations. But even though your intentions were purely platonic, you couldn't deny the flicker of nervousness. 

Maybe it was just the excitement of meeting someone new.

Dr. Suguru Geto.

He was your doctor, yes, but he was also intriguing, with his kind eyes and gentle smile. Your conversation seemed to go beyond the usual small talk from the beginning, maybe it was the unusual way you met.

You shouldn't have asked him to meet, a voice in your head nagged. Why did you do this again? Because of his sad puppy eyes? You groaned inwardly. You couldn't even explain it to yourself. It had slipped out before you could stop yourself.

But to your surprise, he had agreed. 

And now, here you were.

The atmosphere in the sports bar was electric. The roar of the crowd, punctuated by cheers and groans, echoed through the dimly lit space. The smell of stale beer and greasy food hung in the air. You didn't expect it to be so crowded. It was a rather niche bar.

A basketball game blared on the numerous screens, and the air crackled with the excited chatter of sports fans. You weaved your way through the crowd, your heart pounding a little faster with each step.

The walls were plastered with sports memorabilia, jerseys of local heroes and faded photographs of past games. The flickering lights of the numerous screens cast dancing shadows on the faces of the people.

Waitresses weaved their way through the throng, balancing trays laden with overflowing pitchers of beer and plates piled high with nachos and chicken wings. Every eye glued to the screens showcasing the nail-biting basketball game.

You spotted Suguru at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he focused on the game. His back was to you. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, standing beside him and mirroring his gaze towards the screen.

"Think they'll try a full-court press now?" you said.

"I doubt it," he replied, not looking away from the screen. "They're already down by ten with only two minutes left. It's too risky."

"True," you agreed. "But they need to create some turnovers fast if they want any chance of a comeback."

"You know your basketball." He finally turned his head, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hi," you said, raising your hand in a half-hearted wave and immediately regretting it when you realized how awkward it felt and let your hand fall to your side. You slid onto the stool next to him, the vinyl squeaking slightly.

"Oh hi," Suguru said. "Sorry, I didn't even realize it was you. Didn't expect you to be into basketball."

"My dad played in university. Some of it rubbed off on me, I guess."

Suguru then waved at the bartender. "What do you want?" he asked you, smiling.

You watched him take a sip of the beer in front of him. "I'll have the same," you replied, returning his smile.

The bartender, a burly man with a handlebar mustache, nodded and swiftly retrieved a chilled bottle from the cooler. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he popped the cap and set it before you, the condensation already forming tiny droplets on the smooth glass. You took a sip.

You couldn't help but notice how good Suguru looked outside the clinical setting. His usual white coat and scrubs were replaced by a casual outfit that somehow amplified his attractiveness. 

His long, black hair was pulled back into a half bun, a few stray strands framing his face. He wore a simple shirt with an overshirt layered on top, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing surprisingly muscular arms. 

Damn, you thought to yourself, trying to subtly avert your gaze. He's definitely not your average doctor. But you're definitely not your average patient too, to be fair.

"It's great to see you outside the clinic," Suguru said. "How have you been? Is your medication working well?"

You rolled your eyes. "I thought we agreed not to talk about medication and stuff outside of the hospital?"

"You're right, sorry. I guess I don't talk about much else often...might be getting a bit rusty," he said, sounding like a grandfather.

"So, no hobbies or interests besides medicine, huh?"

"Not much, to be honest."

"Besides a certain woman, that is," you teased.

His eyes met yours with a deadpan face. "Didn't we agree not to talk about such things outside of the hospital?"

You took another sip of your beer, feigning innocence. "Did we?"

"Now we did."

"Hmm," you hummed, eyeing him curiously.

Suguru looked at his beer briefly, then nearly whispered, "Did Satoru often talk about her?"

You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to tell him just how much he actually talked about her. Memories of countless appointments with Dr. Gojo flooded back. He'd often ramble on about her, their shared studies, the things he loved about her—

You even found yourself dreaming about the color of her eyes once, just because he'd mentioned them so often. The image of Gojo's lovestruck face whenever he mentioned his girlfriend flashed before your eyes.

No, you decided. Some things are better left unsaid.

"No, not really," you lied smoothly, taking another sip of your beer. Time for a subject change, you thought, maybe something to distract him from his lovesickness. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a seriously intense stare?"

Smooth, real smooth, subject change.

"A few people have mentioned it," he said, caught off guard. "But it didn't seem to bother you."

"Yeah, because underneath, you looked sad. Like a sad little puppy."

"Haha," he said ironically.

"So, really no hobbies? Besides basketball, it seems."

"Not a die-hard fan, but I enjoy it.” His eyes briefly darted back to the game on the screen. "I used to play a bit myself. Back in high school and university." He paused, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Satoru and I were on the same team."

"But you don't play anymore?"

"No." His smile vanished. "We started together but Satoru eventually quit in the second year of university to focus on his studies. It wasn't much fun after he left the team, and I quit some time after."

"Hm," you mused, taking another sip of your beer. "Who was the better player? You or Gojo?"

His smile returned. "Oh, I was definitely better. But if you ask him, he'll say he's the better player. But don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't want to bruise his ego."

You laughed. "I'll keep your secret."

"So, who's your team?" he asked.

"Lakers, all the way. Been a fan since I was a kid."

"Good choice. They're looking strong this year."

"Totally. Though their defense has me a bit worried."

"Fair point," Suguru said. "But with LeBron and Davis, they're still very strong."

"No doubt. I'm hoping they can make a deep playoff run this season."

Just then, someone knocked over a glass a few tables away, drawing both your attention to the commotion. Once it settled down, Suguru turned back to you, taking a sip of his beer. "Now, how about you, why do you want to become an attorney?"

You hesitated, thinking. "Because it pays well."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you give me another reason?"

You hesitated, thinking harder.

You bit your lip. Okay, you got his, think. Why law school? It's not like you're passionate about legal shit or courtroom drama. You hated the stuffy suits, the endless paperwork, and the cutthroat competition. So, what was it?

Maybe it's the power? The ability to fight for justice, to make a difference in the world? You scoffed inwardly. Yeah, right. More like the ability to argue with anyone and everyone, even if you're wrong. 

Perhaps it's the prestige? The fancy title, the corner office, the envious glances from your childhood school friends? You rolled your eyes at yourself. Please. Who are you kidding?

So, what's left? you wondered, a hint of frustration creeping into your thoughts. 

Why are you doing this to yourself?

You sighed, defeated. The truth was, you didn't have a good answer. You'd stumbled into law school on a whim, following some vague idea of success and stability. But now, as you neared graduation, you were beginning to realize that maybe this wasn't the path for you. 

That you didn't even like it.

"I... I don't know, exactly," you finally admitted. "I guess I come from a working-class family. My parents always emphasized the importance of a stable career, something safe and secure. Law seemed like a good option."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of judgment. "Is that a bad reason?"

He paused. "Not necessarily," he said slowly. "Stability and security are important. It's valid to go for that. But they shouldn't be the only reason."

"Yeah," you agreed, taking a sip from your beer. As he watched you, you suddenly felt exposed under the gaze of this man you barely knew. "How did you know you wanted to do medicine?" you asked, hoping to shift the focus away from your own uncertainties.

"It wasn't a sudden realization," he began. "It was more of a gradual understanding. I've always been fascinated by the human body, the way it works, the way it heals. And I wanted to be a part of that process, to help people in some way."

He paused, his expression turning somber for a moment. "It's not always easy," he admitted. "There are long hours, difficult cases, and fucked-up moments. But at the end of the day, when I see a patient getting better, smile again… It makes it all worthwhile."

"Sounds like you found your calling," you said, a touch of envy in your voice.

"I did," he agreed. "But there were times, especially during my residency, when I thought about quitting. The stress was insane, the workload never-ending. But I had a few close friends who kept me going. They reminded me why I'd chosen this path in the first place. It's important to have people who believe in you, even when you doubt yourself."

A light smile spread across your face as you thought of Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji, your mismatched but fiercely loyal friends. They were the ones who made you laugh until your sides ached, who listened to your endless rants about law school, and who always had your back, no matter what. You were so grateful to have them in your life.

Then, curiosity got the better of you. "So, Dr. Gojo was that person for you? Helped you through the tough times?"

"Satoru? Help me? More like he's the reason why I almost went insane." Suguru huffed and shook his head. "He was always getting into trouble, always pushing the limits. I was the one constantly having to chase after him, keeping him in check."

"Sounds like you two have quite the history."

"Yeah, we do." His smile faded slightly as he looked down at his beer, gripping it a little tighter.

Right, touchy subject, you remembered. Back in the MRI room, he'd mentioned they'd drifted apart. You quickly decided to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Hey, let's get some shots!" you exclaimed, waving over a bartender. "My treat."

Suguru raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted me to show you the city?"

"Yeah, well, it's kinda chilly out there," you said, waving a hand dismissively. 

You'd almost forgotten the little white lie you'd told him to get him to go out with you. You've lived in Tokyo your whole life. You could probably offer to show him around. It's not like he seems to ever leave the clinic. 

"Besides, who needs sightseeing when you can have shots?" you added.

The bartender arrived, and you ordered a round, telling him to surprise you.

"What are you planning with those?" Suguru asked as the bartender lined up the glasses, each filled with a different vibrant liquid.

"How about a game? We each make assumptions about the other, and if we're right, the other person has to take a shot."

"The doctor in me should probably stop us from drinking mindlessly," Suguru said, eyeing the glasses before him. "I'm game."

"Great." You took a deep breath, trying to gauge his personality beyond the white coat. "Assumption number one, you were a total nerd in high school."

"Wow, your assumption about the doctor is that he was a nerd in school? Isn't that like, a given for anyone who studies medicine?"

"But is it true?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated for a second. "Guilty as charged." He raised his first shot glass in surrender, beige liquid disappearing between his lips. "Math club, science fairs, the whole deal."

"Ugh, really? Math club?"

"Don't judge me," he said. "It wasn't that lame."

You eyed him skeptically.

He sighed. "Okay, okay, it was lame. One point for you. My turn." Suguru narrowed his eyes playfully. "Hmm, let's see... Assumption number one, you have a secret passion for something completely unexpected."

"Wow. You've gotta be a little more specific than that. That's lame."

He leaned in a bit closer, his gaze sweeping over your face. A sudden warmth spread through your cheeks. "You're into art."

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you wondered if he was some kind of mind reader or a magician with a hidden crystal ball. Or probably stalked your Instagram. "How did you—" 

He pointed to your forehead. You quickly reached up and found a tiny blue dot near your hairline that you must have forgotten to wash off. "You really pay close attention to details," you said as you wiped it off.

"Occupational hazard," he replied with a shrug and a hint of a smile. "I'm a doctor, it's my job to spot even the smallest clues."

"Well, you got me."

"What kind of art do you do?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment, a wave of self-consciousness washing over you. You'd never really shared your love for painting with anyone, not even your closest friends.

"I... I paint," you finally said. "It's just a hobby, really."

"But it's more than a hobby, isn't it?"

You looked away, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. He was right. Painting was more than just a hobby. It was a passion, a dream. But nothing worth pursuing.

"Enough about me," you said, drawing the purple shot, blueberry you assumed, in front of you in one go. You wanted to steer the conversation away from yourself, at least for now. It felt too raw, too exposed. "Let's get back to the game. My turn for an assumption."

You paused dramatically, tapping your finger on the bar counter as if deep in thought. "Okay, here it is, You always dreamed of being a neurosurgeon, like you were obsessed with it."

"Wrong," he said. "Not even close."

"You wanted to do something else?"

"Well, there was a brief period in my residency when I considered gynecology."

You leaned forward, your eyebrows shooting up. "Gynecology? Seriously?"

He shrugged. "Can't a guy like gynecology too?"

"No, I mean... I just didn't expect it, that's all. But you ended up with neurosurgery. How'd that happen?"

"Neurology has always fascinated me. The brain, the nervous system—It's all so complex, so intricate. And Satoru was into it too. He was always the one drawn to surgery, the adrenaline rush of the operating room. I guess I just followed his lead." He paused. "I don't even know why, really."

"But you enjoy surgery, right?" you asked.

"I do. It's challenging, rewarding, and sometimes even a bit thrilling. But if I'm being completely honest, I think I'm more suited to research and teaching. You know, figuring out the mysteries of the brain, sharing what I know."

"And that's how we met, isn't it?" you said, smiling. "Me, the patient with the mysterious brain thing, and you, the doctor trying to crack the case."

"I guess you could say that. But epilepsy isn't that uncommon. About 50 million people worldwide have it."

"Come on, let me feel special for a second, doc."

A warm smile spread across his face. "Okay, okay. But I must admit, you're more captivating than I first realized, attorney."

His words sent a flutter through your stomach. Was that a compliment or an insult? you wondered, but the warmth in his eyes made you lean towards the former. 

The bar's noise faded into the background as you became lost in your own little world. It was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you.

"And what did you think of me, then?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "I thought you were... intriguing," he finally said, his voice husky. "Intelligent, witty, and surprisingly resilient. But also a bit stubborn and stupid."

"Ouch," you said.

For a heartbeat, your eyes locked with his, and your stomach fluttered, a sensation you hadn't experienced in a long time. The bar's dim lights cast a soft glow on Suguru's face, highlighting his ridiculously attractive features in a way that made it impossible to look away.

Heat crawled up your neck and you tore your eyes away. "It's kind of stuffy in here, or not?" you said, fanning yourself with your hand.

"Wanna grab some air?" he suggested.

The cool night air was a welcome balm against your flushed skin. Suguru reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You watched him, surprised.

"You smoke? A doctor, no less."

He lit his cigarette with a practiced flick of his wrist. "Don't get on my case, attorney," he said, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night sky. "Everyone has their vices."

"I suppose," you said, leaning against the brick wall of the bar. "But I thought doctors were supposed to be, like, paragons of health and virtue."

He shrugged, taking another drag. "We're only human. We have our flaws, just like everyone else."

"Is it true what they say, that doctors are always self-medicating?"

"Are you asking me if I do drugs?" he asked.

"That's what you're implying now."

He took another drag. "I don't. But I've seen it, yeah. More than you would think."

"Should I be scared?"

He laughed, warm and full. A sound you could definitely get used to. "I'd probably stick with me, yeah."

"Just the nicotine addict then," you said. "Seems manageable."

And seeing him smile like that—

"It's good to see you smile," you added softly, almost without thinking.

He met your gaze, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. You could almost see him noticing the lightness in his own demeanor, so different to the usual somberness that clung to him back in the clinic. Maybe it was the casual setting, the relaxed atmosphere, or perhaps it was simply your company. 

Whatever it was, you were glad to see this side of him.

A slow breeze swept through the alley, carrying a hint of autumn's chill. You shivered, realizing you'd left your jacket inside the bar in your haste to escape the heat. Suguru noticed. "You cold?"

"A little," you admitted.

Without a word, he shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth of the fabric, still carrying his scent, enveloped you, chasing away the chill. And without the jacket, his physique was on full display. 

The simple shirt clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His forearms, exposed by the short sleeves, were corded with muscle. You tried your best to focus on the conversation, but let's be real, it was a struggle not to stare.

"Thanks." You pulled his jacket closer, trying to play it cool. "I didn't realize it would get so cool out here."

"No problem. Better than catching a cold, right?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the jacket. This is not a date, you reminded yourself. Not a date. He's technically your doctor. But then again, what doctor goes to a sports bar with their patient?

Something must be wrong with him.

The math club thing was already a red flag.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "who's your favorite artist?"

You blinked, surprised by the question. "My favorite artist? Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Just curious."

You hesitated, then the words started tumbling out. You rambled on about William Turner's dramatic seascapes, how his brushstrokes captured the rawness of nature. You gushed about the hidden symbolism in Botticelli's "Primavera" and the emotional intensity of Munch's "The Scream." 

You even shared your newfound fascination with contemporary artists like Yayoi Kusama and her mesmerizing infinity rooms. Suguru listened patiently, his eyes never leaving yours as you went on and on.

Oh shit.

You're doing it again, aren't you? A wave of self-consciousness washing over you. Rambling on and on about art. He's probably bored out of his mind. You bit your lip, wishing you could reel back the words, but it was too late. The art gusher had been unleashed. 

Why do you always do this?

"Sorry," you finally said, breathless and embarrassed. "I tend to get carried away when I talk about art."

He laughed again, warm, comforting. "Don't apologize. It's good to see someone so passionate about something. It's contagious."

You smiled, surprised that you hadn't completely embarrassed yourself. Somehow, the conversation with Suguru flowed so easily. You found yourself enjoying his company, his wit, and his genuine interest. You enjoyed being with him.

"So," Suguru said, "if you had to pick just one favorite artist, who would it be?"

"Hard to choose. But if I had to pick just one, it would probably be William Turner."

"Turner?" he echoed. "I'll have to look him up."

"What about you? Do you have a favorite painter?"

"Not really. But I haven't seen your paintings yet," he said. "I guess I know who my favorite painter will be then."

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Did he just...? Was he flirting with you?

Before you could gather your thoughts and formulate a response, Suguru cleared his throat, breaking the spell. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Shall we go back inside?" 

You nodded.

The warmth and stale air of the bar hit you like a wall as you stepped back inside. And you might have had a bit too much to drink at this point, you realized. As you made your way back to your seats, a group of men at the bar caught Suguru's eye.

"Hey, Suguru!" one of them called out, waving him over. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight. Care to join us for a game of darts?"

Suguru hesitated, glancing at you. "I'm actually with—"

"Sure, we'd love to!" you interjected, meeting his gaze. "I love darts."

Suguru's eyebrows shot up. "You do?"

"Sure, I mean, it can't be that hard, right?"

"You sure you wanna join them? We usually bet too," he said.

"Oh, even better."

Suguru eyed you weary. He was probably already calculating the damage to his wallet if your dart-throwing skills were anything like your general clumsiness.

You made your way over to the group, and Suguru quickly introduced you. He rattled off a series of names, but honestly, they all blurred together. Tall men, some handsome, some not. All very confident. Some with questionable facial hair choices.

One of them, a tall guy with a mop of curly hair, handed you a beer, uncapped it, and raised his own in a toast. "Welcome to the crew. Suguru here doesn't usually bring company, so you must be special."

You looked over your shoulder to meet Suguru's eyes with a look that said, Oh, you really are a loner, huh? He just sighed at you in response.

"So," the curly-haired guy continued, "did you play before, or are we gonna have to go easy on you?"

You shrugged. "I'm not completely hopeless." You could practically hear Suguru's internal groan beside you.

"Alright, everyone," the curly-haired guy announced, grabbing a notepad and pen. "Let's get the bets in. We doing teams of two again?"

A chorus of eager voices responded, each man vying for the chance to challenge the new couple in the group. You and Suguru, to be exact. 

You stepped up to the dartboard. "So," you said, picking up a dart and examining it, "how exactly do you hold this thing?" A collective groan erupted from the group. Suguru's smile vanished.

Oh boy, you could practically hear him thinking, this is going to be a disaster.

One of the men, blonde hair, eager to show off, stepped forward. "Here, let me show you—"

But before he could reach you, Suguru smoothly interjected. "Allow me," he said, gently taking the dart from your hand.

He positioned himself behind you. His hand enveloped yours, his fingers warm and strong against your own. He adjusted your grip, his touch lingering on your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your lower back, a subtle yet electrifying touch that made your stomach flutter.

"Like this," he said, his voice close to your ear. "Relax your grip, focus on your target, and let it fly."

You could feel his breath on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back with each inhale and exhale. Your senses were overwhelmed — the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the soft rumble of his voice in your ear.

You struggled to focus on the dartboard, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the moment. You hadn't quite anticipated this, but you didn't hate it. 

Maybe you even... liked it.

For a moment, you forgot all about the game, the bets, the curious onlookers.

"Got it?" Suguru's voice.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed.

"Alright then," one of the guys called out, short black hair, freckles, clapping his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road!"

The men took their turns, each showcasing their varying levels of skill. Some landed their darts with precision, while others elicited groans and playful jeers from the group.

Throughout it all, Suguru remained close, his arms crossed over his broad chest, occasionally brushing against your shoulder as you observed the others' attempts. You could practically feel his tension mounting with every throw. 

Finally, it was your turn. You stepped up to the throwing line, all eyes on you, amusement and skepticism painted on their faces.

"Wait, where do I stand again?" you asked.

A few chuckles rippled through the group. You could practically hear Suguru's wallet crying in his pocket.

One of the guys, brown shoulder-length hair, stepped forward. "Bit closer here—"

But before he could reach you, you smoothly turned, your arm extending in a perfect arc. The dart flew through the air, landing with a satisfying thunk right in the bullseye.

Dead silence. 

Then, a collective gasp, followed by a chorus of disbelieving exclamations. "Bullseye!" someone shouted. "No way!" another one exclaimed.

Suguru's jaw practically hit the floor. He stared at the dartboard, then at you, like he'd never seen you before. "You—" he stammered, clearly at a loss for words. "You're good?"

You turned to face him, a grin spreading across your face. "Told you I wasn't completely hopeless." You sauntered back to Suguru, leaving the men in stunned silence. You reached for the beer he'd been holding for you, taking a long sip. "So, we're splitting the winnings 50/50, right, Doc?"

Suguru, still a bit dazed, blinked a few times before a slow grin spread across his face. "Deal."

The rest of the game was a blur of laughter, trash talk, and cheers.

Freckles-guy gave your shoulders a quick massage before your next turn. Long brown hair got you another beer. Suguru was frantically trying to keep up with your score on the notepad, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

The bar erupted when you landed another bullseye. Strangers high-fived you, and suddenly the whole place seemed to be watching. The bartender even announced a round of free shots on the house.

At one point, you ended up on Suguru's shoulders. Bullseye. You even tried throwing blindfolded, spinning around, and then letting one fly. Bullseye again. Okay, not every shot was a bullseye, but they were damn close.

Then there was that one time Suguru pulled you close, his lips brushing the top of your head in a playful kiss. You barely knew him, but even you knew that was surprising. He was so unlike the composed surgeon you'd met in his office. It threw you off so much you almost missed your next shot, but you still nailed it.

Another bullseye. Seriously.

You were about to hand off your beer to Suguru so you could take your next turn, when some large figure bumped into you, sending a wave of cold beer cascading down your front.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" a male voice exclaimed, red hair. 

You looked down at your shirt, now soaked in a sticky, amber-colored mess.

"Are you okay?" Suguru's voice. 

You looked up to see him standing protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed at the clumsy culprit.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to brush off the sticky residue. "I'll be right back." You quickly made your way to the women's restroom, leaving him standing amidst the lingering stares of curious onlookers.

Once inside the dimly lit bathroom, you assessed the damage. The sticky liquid had soaked through your shirt, leaving a large, unsightly stain right across your chest. You groaned inwardly. Of all the nights to spill a drink on yourself, you thought, it had to be tonight.

You turned on the faucet, hoping to at least rinse off some of the sticky residue. But as you dabbed at the stain with a damp paper towel, it only seemed to spread further, creating a chaotic blend of colors that resembled a modern art masterpiece gone wrong.

"Great," you muttered to yourself, throwing the soggy paper towel in the trash. "This is just perfect."

You tried blotting the stain with another paper towel, then with hand soap, then with a random assortment of toiletries you found under the sink. But nothing seemed to work. In fact, it seemed like you were only making it worse.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. Your once-put-together appearance was now a disheveled mess. Your hair was slightly damp from the frantic cleaning attempts, and your shirt looked like it had been attacked by a bear or so.

Just my luck, you thought, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

In a final act of desperation, you grabbed a wad of toilet paper and scrubbed at the stain like a madman. The flimsy fabric of your shirt, already weakened by the moisture, couldn't withstand the onslaught. With a sickening ripping sound, a small tear appeared near the neckline, rapidly expanding into a gaping hole.

You stared at the damage in disbelief. "Seriously?" you groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat. This night just keeps getting better and better.

You glanced at your watch, your eyes widening in horror. You'd been holed up in the bathroom for almost fifteen minutes. Suguru must be wondering what on earth was taking you so long.

Panic set in. 

You couldn't go back out there looking like this. Your shirt was beyond repair, and you certainly couldn't walk around half-naked in a crowded bar.

Your eyes darted around the bathroom, searching for anything that could salvage the situation. A roll of duct tape? A strategically placed safety pin? A magical fairy godmother with a sewing kit? No such luck.

Just as you were contemplating your options — which seemed to range from hiding in the bathroom forever to fashioning a makeshift bandage out of toilet paper — a gentle knock sounded on the door.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice filtered through the thin wood. "Everything alright in there?"

"Just a minute!" you called back, your voice slightly muffled as you frantically rummaged under the bathroom sink cabinet for something, anything, to help you out. In your haste, you stood up too quickly, forgetting about the low-hanging sink. Your head collided with the porcelain with a resounding thwack.

"Ow!" you yelped, clutching your head.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice was laced with concern now. "What was that? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nothing!" you lied, wincing at the throbbing pain. "Just... dropped something."

You heard the doorknob rattle, then Suguru's voice again, more insistent this time. "I'm coming in."

Before you could protest, the door swung open, revealing a worried Suguru. His eyes scanned the bathroom, taking in the scene — the ruined shirt in the sink, the damp paper towels scattered on the counter, and you, clutching your forehead with a grimace, wearing nothing but your bra and jeans.

He quickly averted his gaze. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You groaned, still clutching your head. "I hit my head on the sink. It's nothing serious, just a bump."

"Let me see," he said, cautiously turning his gaze back to you. He walked over, careful to keep his eyes focused on your face. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes were filled with concern as he examined the growing bump on your forehead.

"It's not too bad." A relieved sigh escaped his lips. "But we should probably head home and put some ice on it."

"I'm sorry, I'm such a mess," you said.

"A mess? You're a dart champion, as far as I'm concerned."

"Told you I like sports bars," you quipped, attempting a weak smile.

An awkward silence hung in the air, broken only by the muffled sounds of the bar's revelry filtering through the door. You fidgeted, acutely aware of your exposed skin and the warmth radiating from Suguru's close proximity.

"Here," he said suddenly. "Take this."

You looked up to see him pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted torso that could rival any Greek god statue. Your breath hitched in your throat, your eyes widening involuntarily. He handed you the soft cotton shirt.

You took the shirt, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand back.

"Thanks." You pulled the shirt over your head. It was warm from his body, and the scent of his cologne clung to the fabric, sandalwood and something else you couldn't quite place.

Suguru quickly slipped back into his overshirt, buttoning it up. "Better?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"Much better. Thank you."

"You know, for a future lawyer, you seem to attract a fair bit of chaos."

"It's a blessing. Or maybe a curse. I haven't quite decided yet."

"Well," he said. "It certainly makes life interesting."

You couldn't help but laugh, but the sound caught in your throat as a sharp pain throbbed through your forehead. You winced, bringing a hand to your head.

"Whoa, you okay?" Suguru asked.

"My head," you mumbled, the pain intensifying. "Think I hit it harder than I thought."

In an instant, he was all doctor again. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers cool against your flushed skin. His eyes, now serious and focused, scanned your face, searching for any signs of a concussion.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

You shook your head slightly, your gaze locked with his. You were so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was intoxicating. No, that can't be—It must be the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol.

"Just a bump," you assured him, your voice barely a whisper. "It'll be fine."

He continued his examination, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw, the curve of your cheek. His touch was gentle, yet electrifying, making your knees weak.

"You're sure?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The air between you crackled, the boundaries between doctor and patient blurring once again.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you repeated.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in closer. His face was inches from yours now, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest.

"So," he began, “what exactly did you do to your shirt to end up like this?"

You burst into laughter, the sound slightly breathless. "Oh, it's a long story."

"You really are chaotic, aren't you?" He reached out then, his fingers lightly brushing over your cheek. You took a sharp inhale.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little bit drunk, I think," he said, his gaze fixed on your lips. Oh god, why did he have to look at your lips with those perfect eyes?

You nodded, your lips parting slightly. "It's okay, I think I'm a little tipsy too." The words caught in your throat, replaced by a silent plea for him to close the remaining distance between you.

"We should probably head back inside," he said.

"Is that a question?"

"I mean... we should go back," he stammered, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

"Do you want to go back?"

"Don't ask me that."

"Why?" you whispered, leaning closer.

"You know why, attorney."

"But it's my job to get clear answers," you countered. "I can't make decisions based on mere assumptions."

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours sent a wave of heat through you, and you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze.

"I could get in serious trouble for this," he said. "A doctor and his patient..."

"Only if someone sues you," you teased. "And I'm not gonna sue you."

"How old are you again?" 

"You know how old I am."

The possibilities hung in the air, heavy, unexpected, irresistible. You reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingertips.

Suguru's breath hitched at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze stole your breath away. It was as if he'd finally surrendered to the pull between you, the last of his reservations crumbling away.

"Ah, fuck it," he said.

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. You gasped at the sudden contact, your lips parting in surprise, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours.

The kiss lit a fire in you, a heat that spread from your lips to the tips of your toes. His hands roamed your body, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head for better access, the other spreading across the small of your back to press you tightly against him.

You melted into him, your hands fisting in his shirt. He kissed you like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The room was spinning, the world tilting on its axis, and all you could focus on was the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he made you feel like nothing else existed but this moment.

His hands were everywhere, skimming over your sides, teasing the swell of your breasts through your, sorry, his shirt, leaving you gasping for more. You arched into his touch, craving more, needing to feel skin against skin.

In that moment, you didn't care about the consequences. 

Suguru's hands drifted lower, squeezing your ass, pulling you harder against him. You couldn't resist grinding against him, chasing that maddening friction, that perfect pressure right where you needed it most. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating through you.

Desperate for more, you slid your hands under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his chest, feeling the muscles twitch and flex beneath your touch. He shuddered, his abs contracting as your fingers danced over his heated skin.

Breaking the kiss, Suguru trailed his lips down your jaw, nipping and sucking as he made his way to your throat. You let your head fall back, giving him better access, a breathy moan escaping you.

"Keep making sounds like that and I won't be able to stop myself from fucking you right here," he warned.

His words made your head spin. The idea of him bending you over the sink and claiming you, right here in this dingy bathroom with a bar full of people just outside — it was reckless, stupid, the most brilliantly terrible idea you'd ever had.

"Maybe that's what I want," you dared, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, urging him on. "Maybe I want you to take me right here.”

Let's be real, you were beyond caring about propriety or the risk of getting caught. All you cared about was the man in front of you and the heat he ignited within you.

You could feel him smile against your skin. “Oh really?”

As Suguru's lips moved against yours, his hands began to explore your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into skin as he ground against you, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him.

The hard, heavy press of his erection against you made you moan into his mouth, your body arching into his. Holy shit, he was huge, you could already tell. Your knees nearly buckled at the thought of him inside you, stretching you, filling you so full you could barely breathe.

God, you needed him.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark as he reached down to fumble with the button of your jeans. You couldn't help but gasp as he finally got them open, his fingers slipping inside, seeking the warmth between your legs.

He traced the outline of your underwear, lingering on the damp patch where your arousal had already begun to soak through the material.

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groaned, his eyes closing. "Can I?"

Your eyes snapped open. "Did you seriously just ask permission to finger me?"

"I'll take that as a yes." 

Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers under the edge of your underwear and tugged it aside. The first touch of his fingers against your core made you moan. He was so warm, his skin rough and calloused in the best way as he slid two thick digits deep inside you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, your head falling back against the wall.

He pumped his fingers in and out, setting a deep, slow rhythm. The wet sounds of him finger-fucking you echoed off the bathroom tiles, along with your desperate pants and bitten-off curses. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, coating his fingers and dripping down your thighs.

Suguru captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours. It was messy and frantic, more panting into each other's mouths than any real skill, but fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever felt.

With his free hand, he grabbed hold of yours and pinned it above your head, his fingers lacing with yours. The cold press of the wall against your heated skin made you shiver, making every touch and sensation feel even more intense.

His fingers worked you mercilessly, curling and scissoring and rubbing in all the right ways. You could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast, your inner walls starting to clench around him. 

Fuck, you'd never gotten this close this quickly with anyone else, never felt so utterly fucking wrecked with just a few touches.

Just as you were teetering on the very edge, your thighs shaking and your moans picking up in pitch, the bathroom door suddenly flew open with a bang.

"Oh my god!" a startled voice yelped. "Sorry!"

Suguru immediately slipped his fingers out of you, and you scrambled to pull your jeans back up, your face on fire. The woman booked it out of there, slamming the door behind her and leaving you both in the most awkward silence of your life.

Suguru cleared his throat, taking a step back and rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have... that was way out of line."

You stared at the floor, your cheeks burning hotter than the surface of the sun. "It's fine," you said. "We're both drunk. Alcohol makes people do dumb shit."

The silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy and so fucking uncomfortable you wanted to scream. You kept replaying the kiss, the way he touched you, the feel of his fingers inside you — it sent shivers down your spine, even as shame turned your stomach to lead.

You'd never done anything like this before — making out with someone you barely knew, letting him finger-fuck you in a gross sports bar bathroom after knowing him for like, five hours. What were you thinking?

Part of you wanted to die of embarrassment, to sink through the floor and disappear forever. But another part of you didn't want this night to end. 

Suguru was exciting, different. And somehow it felt so easy. Easy to talk, easy to laugh, easy to — be yourself. And that was something you hadn't felt in a long time.

Finally, Suguru broke the silence. "We should probably get you home," he said. "We had a lot to drink, and you hit your head. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Home sounds good."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

You wanted to forget that night. 

Bury the memory of Dr. Suguru Geto's hands between your legs six feet under and never dig it up again. But no, your brain had other plans. It was like trying to unsee a particularly embarrassing video of yourself — technically possible, but your brain seemed determined to keep replaying it on loop.

Back at the law firm, you navigated the busy corridors, two steaming cups of coffee clutched in your hands. One was for Mr. Higurama, your mentor, and the other was for your own sanity.

Higurama was one of the best. Without him, you'd have bailed on this stupid internship within the first week. He was meticulous, dedicated, and knew the law like the back of his hand. But he was also, let's be honest, a bit strange.

He'd rather spend his weekends reading dusty old legal texts than having a life. And his obsession with obscure legal trivia was — something else. He'd drop those obscure historical law facts that left everyone scratching their heads. 

Maybe that's why you two clicked. You were both the oddballs in a sea of perfectly polished lawyers.

As you rounded the corner, you spotted him — the intern whose name you could never remember, but who you'd mentally dubbed "Chad" for his obnoxious attitude and perfectly-gelled hair. He was strutting towards you, his tailored suit and smug grin practically screaming "I'm better than you."

"Well, well, well," he drawled. "Look who's playing coffee delivery girl."

He reached out a hand, expecting you to hand over one of the cups. You sidestepped him. "Nice try, Chad," you retorted, continuing your walk towards Mr. Higurama's office.

You could hear his indignant huff behind you. "That's not my name!"

You just rolled your eyes and kept walking, a smile tugging at your lips. Whatever, Chad, you thought to yourself. His name is the least of your problems right now.

You knocked lightly on Mr. Higurama's door, a nervous flutter returning to your stomach. Even after weeks, you still couldn't shake the feeling of being a fish out of water in this fancy law firm.

"Come in!" Mr. Higurama's voice called out.

You pushed open the door, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of your mentor. He was buried under a mountain of paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up with a start as you entered.

"Oh, hey," he said, blinking in surprise. "You're a lifesaver. I was just about to send someone out for a caffeine fix."

He glanced at his watch, his expression suddenly turning serious. "Oh shit, we're running late," he said, scrambling to gather the scattered papers on his desk. "We need to leave for that client meeting in five minutes."

"No problem," you said, trying to sound calm despite the sudden rush. "I'm ready."

You walked over to his desk, carefully balancing the coffee cups in one hand. As you reached for a stack of files, your foot caught on the corner of the rug, sending you stumbling forward. The coffee cup lurched in your hand, its contents splashing onto the neatly organized papers on Mr. Higurama's desk.

You froze, the coffee dripping from the once-pristine documents. 

Higurama looked up at you, his face a mask of — well, you weren't sure what. This wasn't the first time you'd pulled a stunt like this.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose,” you said.

But before you knew it, you were in the car. No time to reprint the papers, apparently. With a resigned sigh, Higurama quickly gathered the damp forms, and you both rushed out to his car.

The drive was filled with a tense silence. You wanted to disappear into the car seat, your embarrassment a heavy weight on your chest. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore.

"So," you ventured cautiously, "what's this client meeting about?"

"We're going to the hospital," he said. "A group of doctors is in a bit of a... difficult situation."

"Oh, is it related to a patient?"

Higurama let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Don't ask," he said, his tone more tired than annoyed.

You shrank back into your seat, deciding to keep your mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

Higurama led you through a maze of corridors, his footsteps echoing on the polished linoleum floor of the hospital. Though you were somewhat familiar with the building from your visits to Dr. Gojo, this particular wing was kind of new to you. 

As you approached the meeting room, you could hear the muffled sounds of a heated discussion. Higurama paused, straightening his tie and composing his features into his usual stoic mask.

You were kind of freaking out. A case involving doctors? That was new. Seemed unusual for Higurama too, since you both usually dealt with international affairs. Must be a special case. Higurama pushed open the door, and you stepped into the conference room.

And then you saw him.

No, them — both of them.

Dr. Gojo.

And Suguru.

They were sitting at the far end of the table, Suguru's arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Your heart lurched in my chest, surprise and mortification flooding through you.

Oh my god, you thought. He's one of the doctors.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. The man you'd nearly fucked in that filthy bathroom just a few nights ago, the man whose lips you could still feel on yours — was now your client. The embarrassment of the situation threatened to swallow you whole, and you desperately wished you could disappear into thin air.

Suguru and Dr. Gojo were locked in a heated debate. Their voices rose and fell, words a flurry of medical words and frustrated exclamations.

"That's why we should do biomarkers that could help identify patients at higher risk," Gojo said.

"We can't ignore the data," Suguru countered. "The preliminary results show a significant increase in CAR-T cell persistence with the modified construct. We need to investigate this further."

"But the neurotoxicity risk," Gojo argued, his tone equally firm. "We can't overlook the potential complications. We need to refine the targeting strategy, minimize off-target effects."

"We can address those concerns in subsequent phases," Suguru argued back. "We can't afford to stall progress."

The argument escalated, their voices echoing through the room. Dr. Gojo stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He strode to the whiteboard, scribbling something furiously with a marker. They still hadn't noticed you.

You wanted to flee, to crawl into a hole and die. You took a step back, then another, ready to make a run for it, but Higurama's hand shot out, gripping your blazer and holding you in place. He gave you a look that said he wanted to flee just as much as you did.

Oh god, please let this be over soon.

Suddenly, Higurama cleared his throat.

Both doctors turned around, surprise plastered on their faces as they noticed you and Higurama standing there. Suguru's eyes met yours for a split second, and you could practically feel the awkwardness radiating off of him before you quickly looked away. The knot in your stomach tightened.

Dr. Gojo, however, recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Oh, hey. Didn't expect to see you here too."

You managed a weak smile. "Hello, Dr. Gojo."

"How have you been feeling?" Gojo asked you. "Any side effects from the medication?"

"Fine," you replied curtly. "No problems."

Gojo's gaze lingered on you for a moment. "And how's Suguru treating you? Is he taking good care of you?"

God, please have mercy on me, you thought, your cheeks burning even hotter. But before you could answer, Suguru quickly interjected, his voice firm. "Perhaps we should get started with the meeting."

Higurama gestured towards the empty chairs around the table. "Shall we sit down?"

You all took your seats, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a scalpel. Higurama cleared his throat again, his gaze sweeping across the room. "I believe we all know why we're here today," he began, his tone professional and matter-of-fact.

"Actually, we don't," Gojo deadpanned. "Yaga didn't tell us anything."

Higurama looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die. Same, you thought.

"There have been some... concerns raised regarding professional conduct within the university," Higurama finally managed to say.

Suguru and Gojo made a face in unison.

You reached into Mr. Higurama's briefcase, pulling out the stack of papers he'd entrusted you with. As you pulled them out, you couldn't help but notice the faint coffee stains marrying the edges. Your cheeks flushed even deeper.

But then your eyes landed on the content of the paper.

It wasn't a complex legal case or a malpractice lawsuit, as you had initially feared. Instead, you were faced with a series of brightly colored pamphlets titled “Maintaining Professional Boundaries”.

The pages were filled with cartoon illustrations and bullet points detailing appropriate conduct with students, patients and colleagues. There were even sections on how to avoid gossip in the workplace, with a handwritten note scrawled in the margin that basically said, "Don’t fuck with students, Gojo" in a slightly more professional way. Higurama's handwriting, for sure.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. 

The girl Gojo always talked about, the one he was always going on and on about marrying—she was a student. He'd been sleeping with a student this whole time. Oh my god. How inappropriate. You could never imagine hooking up with one of your professors. 

But now that you think about it — someone in the glass house shouldn't throw stones, as they say.

Anyway, a wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over you as you placed the papers in front of the doctors. Even Higurama seemed to shrink in his seat. The silence in the room was deafening as Suguru and Gojo scanned the documents. You could practically hear crickets chirping.

Finally, Higurama cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the situation. “As I was saying,” he began, his voice strained, “we all know why we’re here today.”

All eyes immediately snapped to Gojo. “Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that,” he said. Suguru let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples. Then, Gojo's gaze fell upon the stack of papers in front of him. "Besides, why is there coffee on those documents?"

Every head in the room swiveled towards you. 

You quickly looked away.

The rest of the meeting was, to put it mildly, awkward as hell. Higurama tried his best to maintain a professional facade as he soldiered on with the presentation, highlighting the importance of maintaining professional boundaries. 

You couldn't help but squirm in your seat as he droned on about appropriate conduct and the dangers of crossing the line. With every mention of "patient confidentiality" and "avoiding dual relationships," your mind flashed back to that night at the bar. 

Suguru's hands on your waist, his lips on yours. You were sure your face was burning a bright shade of crimson. You risked a glance at Suguru, but he was staring intently at the table, his expression carefully blank.

Gojo tried to lighten the mood with a few well-timed jokes, but you guessed he was uneasy, too. You noticed him scratching his arm from time to time, a nervous tic you'd never seen before. Suguru, on the other hand, remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the presentation materials, though you could sense his discomfort.

You couldn't help but wonder what Suguru was thinking. Was he regretting that night at the bar as much as you were starting to? Did he see you differently now?

Finally, the meeting mercifully ended. 

Gojo stood up. "Higurama, can we talk for a second?" Higurama sighed, but reluctantly followed him out of the room, leaving you alone with Suguru.

A tense silence descended upon the room. You avoided Suguru's gaze, focusing instead on the white walls. But you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Did you ice it?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

Silence returned.

It felt like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Unable to bear the stillness any longer, you stood up, clutching your bag tightly. "Well, I should probably get going."

"Wait," Suguru's voice stopped you mid-escape. "About the other night. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken things so far."

You turned back to face him. "No, it's okay. It was... nice." Nice? Did you really just describe the hottest makeout session of your life as 'nice'? What were you, a Victorian maiden?

"Nice?" he echoed, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly attractive way of his.

"I mean... It was good. Really good," you clarified, somehow making it even worse. "You're a great kisser and..." you trailed off, wanting to crawl under the table and die.

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, you tried to make another break for it, only to be halted by Suguru's hand wrapping around your wrist. His grip was gentle but firm, sending sparks shooting up your arm.

You spun back around to find him towering over you. Damn him for being so tall. And for looking so good in his dress shirt and vest and tie under that crisp white doctor's coat. It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you come before we were interrupted," he said, sounding so genuinely apologetic you almost laughed. Almost. If this whole situation wasn't so mortifyingly awkward.

"Oh my god, please don't say that."

"I just want you to know, I don't usually do things like that."

"Like what? Not make women come? Wow, what a gentleman."

"No, I meant—" He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not really one for hookups in general."

Oh god, why are you having this conversation now, here, with Higurama and Dr. Gojo just outside? "Okay, cool. Thanks for letting me know." You tried once again to subtly tug your wrist from his grip.

But Suguru held fast, his thumb rubbing absently over your racing pulse. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're worried about. I liked it. Spending time with you. A lot.”

You stared at him, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. He likes spending time with you? What did that even mean?

"Uh," you began. "You don't?"

"No, I don't." His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn't let go. "I was just surprised. It felt... good."

Good? You blinked. Good? What did ‘good’ in this context even mean? But then again, it had felt pretty damn good.

"And you're a great kisser too," he mirrored your words.

"Thanks." Thanks? Did you really just say thanks? And then, because your brain apparently decided to abandon all sense of self-preservation, you blurted out, "And you have great fingers."

Your face erupted in a fiery blush, and you wished you could disappear into the floor. My God, why couldn't you just shut up for once in your life?

Suguru's lips twitched into a smirk. "Thanks," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "We should do it again sometime."

"Yeah, totally." The words tumbled out before you could stop them. You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as the desert. Play it cool, play it cool. "I think we would be quite good together. At sex, I mean. Wait, no—" You stumbled over your words, your hands flailing helplessly as you tried to backpedal.

"I meant the sports bar," Suguru clarified, barely containing his amusement.

"Oh yeah, me too," you said quickly, too quickly. "The sports bar. Where we... watch sports. And drink beer—"

Then the door creaked open and Higurama stepped back into the room. You both immediately moved apart. Higurama glanced at you. "Are you ready to go back to the office?"

You nodded.

Thank god it was over.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: hello again !! hope you didn't die bc of cringe this chapter, as our dear reader certainly brings a touch of chaotic energy to the story. and i want to express my gratitude for all the wonderful comments and messages you've been leaving. they never fail to brighten my day. & thank you again tasha for helping me out with this chapter. check out her work here. <3

don't have much else to add at this point, so whether you're reading this in the middle of the day or late at night, i wish you all the best. thank you for your continued support and love :)

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @ri-sa20 @biancaness @roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue

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@4k0taro @ineednanamikento

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[thepixelelf]

Oh Baby, You - svt smau

The birth of your son three years ago was what caused your breakup with Wonwoo, your longtime (and at that point, long distance) partner. Now, you're getting concerned that Orion is starting to look a lot like his dad, but that's not your only problem. Wonwoo is back… and he's living across the hall.

Genres: smau, romance, drama, comedy, angst, single parent au

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab they/she reader x mystery member(s)

Warnings: coarse language, conversations about sex, mentions of pregnancy, mama/mom/mother is used to refer to reader's parental status sometimes, infidelity, light alcoholism, miscommunication as a plot device, some of the teenies are not so nice at times, slut shaming, angst, everything is unrealistically dramatic because this is basically a kdrama in text/twitter form. warnings may be updated as they come, but I will label chapters properly if it's anything major

Note: unfortunately, I did have to make the mc for this series have female reproductive organs because, well... that's the plot. I couldn't find a good way around it :( if anyone reading this is discouraged, please know that pretty much every other fic I've ever posted is gender neutral. So, if you think you might've liked this smau, please check out my masterlist! hopefully there will be something you like there :) ALSO! if anyone makes fun of Orion's name just know that it's the name of a precious baby cousin of mine and if you bully smau Orion you are bullying irl Orion!! do not touch him!!!

(new!) Updates will post when I have the time and motivation

The taglist is full! Leave a comment under the post linked here if you're not on the main taglist to be notified when Oh Baby, You is completed.

Profiles I: Orion's Prettyboy(gn) Posse

Profiles II: Wonwoo's Famous Friend and the Other Guys

Profiles III: Gyu and the Rise of Capitalism

1. Everybody Loves Vernon

2. Tens Among Tens

3. Grown Ass Men

4. I Hate This FUcking Family

5. The Ones Keeping Secrets

6. A LITTLE Curious

7. You Go Girl Get His Ass

8. The Calm

9. The Storm

10. It's Been a While

11. Fucked Up Coincidences

12. Not... a BAD Guy

13. Still So Affected

14. Just My Type

15. Nothing to Hide

16. Fists Up

17. Act Natural

18. Girl, They Blocked You

19. Plot Relevance

20. Actually it is a Date

21. It's All Pretty Confusing

22. Scripted

23. All it Takes is a Smile

24. Yoon Jeonghan is Watching

25. Completely Surrounded

26. No Such Thing

27. What Does That Mean

28. A Name I've Heard Recently

29. Can't Risk It

30. Errand Day

31. One Day at a Time

32. Confrontation

33. Not Looking to be a Parent Any Time Soon

34. What if I

35. For This Little Guy

36. Get Blocked

37. I'll Take Care of You

38. Messed Up, Stupid, and Jaded

39. You Fucked Up

40. That's For You to Figure Out

41. Need to Try Something

42. Recovery Mission?

43. Your Everything

44. You're Cute When You're Like This

45. Not Sponsored

46. This is Nothing

47. Promise? Promise

48. Hhrk

49. A Busy Afternoon

50. Cherry

51. Don't Freak Out

52. Bad Guys

53. Everything is Fine

chapters loading...

54. Hope Yet

55. Barely an Answer

OBY Ask the Characters Game

[xetlynn]

Twilight Imagines- Embry Call

Imprint Mess

[Masterlist]

Requested by: @justannadahfanfictor

Summary: In which Embry and [name] are best friends but lately Embry has been avoiding her. Paul notices how down [Name] is and offers up a distraction. She takes it and Embry finds out the next day.

I sit outside on my porch, thinking about something Paul said earlier. Lately Embry hasn't been talking to me much. I purse my lips, not knowing how to take what was offered to me just hours ago.

Normally Embry, Quill and I hang out together in the afternoon but this past week it's like he wants nothing to do with me. Bringing Quill with him. I'd like to say I'm unbothered by it but I am not. At all. And since that I've had such strong feelings for Embry for a long time now. He's all that's on my mind since we were 12 years old, a year after becoming friends.

Everyone seemed to know about it except for the boy himself. Or he recently found out and this is why he's avoiding me. "Hey, you out here just to mope?" My sister sits beside me and I look over at her. "I'm not moping." I shake my head, taking a drink out of her soda can she brought out here. "Mhm, that's why everyone has told me you're not joining the cookout tonight." She takes the can from my hand right as I was about to drink it again.

The cookout is mainly the wolf pack talking about things. They invite peoples partners and certain family members that know about it. I only know because of Seth and Leah turning. Then I found out how Paul and the others did too. Later on Embry did as well, he told me immediately. We talked all the time. I don't know why he's acting so different. I sigh. "I just don't feel up to being with everyone tonight." I lie, well partially.

"Ah, okay." Leah acts like she's about to drop it but instead she starts talking again. "Have you talked to Embry lately?" She asks me, I look over at her with a bored expression. Then it's like something clicks in her head. "Is he the reason you're not coming tonight?" She questions me, her body lifting up dramatically as if this is crazy information. I scrunch my face, shaking my head. "Leah, please leave me alone." I plead with her.

"You can talk to me, y'know." She says, standing up from her spot. "Thank you but I just need a second." I give a short smile and she gives me a sad one in response before heading back inside. I look out in the road. I see someone walking up to the house and I begin to stand up to go inside, going to grab at the door. Not wanting to deal with a social interaction. "Wait, [Name]. It's me." The voice calls after me, I turn around to see Paul. I huff, standing up straight and walking off the porch to talk to him.

"I was hoping I didn't scare you off with my offer. I heard you're weren't joining us tonight. I needed to make sure you were okay." He tells me, I shrug my shoulders, putting my hands in my back pockets. "I am fine. I needed time to think about everything."

"I didn't scare you off?" He tilts his head, I laugh. "No, you didn't. I just- I'm still stuck on Embry. I don't know. It's stupid." I look at the ground, just feeling dumb about everything. "[Name], I don't think it's stupid. Embry's an idiot for not realizing what he has." He tells me and I don't respond, not knowing what to say to that. "Let me distract you." He whispers and my heart begins to race. I glance back to my house then to him.

I think about how Embry has canceled on me. I think about how he has been avoiding me, not understanding why. Treating me like a bad friend. We aren't even together, we've never really flirted to begin with. He doesn't have feelings for me so what does it matter. I finally give Paul my eye contact. "Not here. My siblings are staying the night."

He smiles, taking my hand and we go to his truck. There was a weird tension between us. The ride was silent until I decided to make a move. Place my hand on his thigh and trailing up. I was focusing on what I was doing until he gripped my wrist before I could move any closer. "I'm going to have to pull this vehicle over to the side of the road if you don't stop." He warns me.

I don't listen, and he ends up pulling into the driveway and we don't get out.

And after that we go to his house and do the same thing. The next day was not even awkward. We agreed we didn't have feelings for one another, this was a one time thing. Just a distraction of things we were both dealing with.

I got all my stuff together, throwing it on and using the bathroom to check if I look decent. Paul had left already and I don't know exactly when. He just left a small note on the bed beside me. I exist the house and begin to walk. It's a 2 mile distance from my house. Which isn't bad and it's nice outside surprisingly.

I think about last night, how everything went down and all I feel is guilt. Like I did something wrong. I feel sick to my stomach and it won't go away. The entire 2 mile walk of shame was just me practically bullying myself about my decision. I don't necessarily regret it.

I finally get into the yard of my house, tiredly I go to sit on the porch before going inside. I hide my head in my hands. Sitting there for a while. "[Name]."

And I get deja vu. I look up to see Embry. I furrow my eyebrows as he comes up to me in anger. "What's your deal?" I ask him, not getting up from my spot. He stands in front of me. "You hooked up with Paul?!" He loudly asks me and my jaw drops. I shush him, looking back at the house to make sure my siblings weren't eavesdropping or something. "Excuse me?"

"You hooked up with Paul? Out of everyone? Why would you do that?" He questions me, I stand up on the first step of the porch, now being the same height as him. "I can do what I want Embry." I cross my arms.

He seems stunned for a moment. "It just seems out of nowhere. That's strange, I feel like you would've told me if you were interested in... someone like him." He is kind of talking to himself. Not looking me in the eyes. I let out an annoyed breath. "Embry, why are you here?" I ask him.

"I thought we were best friends and I have to find out in a weird way that you're hooking up with Lahote." He says, I laugh rolling my eyes. "Best friends? You have been avoiding me and canceling our plans nonstop these past two weeks. Making me feel like crap. Who cares if I didn't tell you I slept with someone? What does it matter?!" I yell at him, pointing a finger in his chest. I can't believe he would blow up like this. I figured he would find out but he has no right to be upset. I then feel weird, like I need to be closer to him.

"I haven't been avoiding you." He scoffs, my eyes widen. "Seriously? Anytime I join everyone you don't talk to me and when I go up to you, you make an excuse to leave. That's not avoiding someone?"

It grows quiet and I shake my head. "I'm going inside. When you decide not to come at me all weird come talk to me, Embry." I calmly tell him, turning around to walk to the house door. The thing is, I can't get myself to actually open the door. "Wait." He sighs. "Please."

"What now?" I irritatingly turn back to him.

"I have been avoiding you but it's because I've fallen too hard for you. I needed to think about my feelings. It was a lot. I knew you didn't feel the same way. It was rude of me to avoid you though." He explains himself and my heart sinks. "I came at you because I was mad, I mean obviously. I didn't know you and Paul had feelings for each other and it hurt." He looks at the ground, ashamed. I let out a small laugh.

"Paul and I do not have feelings for each other. We did a dumb thing that's for sure." I rub my lips together in embarrassment before I continue talking. "I like you a lot Embry I've had feelings for you since we were 12. It's been 9 years. Which is just embarrassing in its self. Paul knew about it. He offered a distraction and I took it." I shrug my shoulders.

"I'm not proud of it but it's already done and I can't take it back. You hurt me by the way you avoided me. I didn't understand what I did." I tell him.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I'm an idiot." He takes the steps up the porch. Both of us sit down together on my porch swing. "You are definitely one. But I think I am too. So it's okay." I smile, clasping my hands together. "You really have feelings for me?" He asks.

"Yeah, unfortunately." I joke. He nudges me with his elbow. "I don't know where this leaves us." I tell him earnestly. He nods his head, agreeing. "I still like you. I hope you still like me." He says.

"I do."

"I'll take you out on an actual date and we figure this out together?" He asks, we both look at each other at the same time and I crack into a smile. "Are you sure?" I grin at him. "Yes." He smiles back at me.

"I would love to." I pull him into a hug. "I've missed you so much." I admit. "I missed you too, I'm sorry." He pulls me closer to him.

After a little bit I pull back and I think for a moment. "Did you go off on Paul?"

He chuckles, "No I didn't, He was thinking about it while we were in our wolf forms. He apologized immediately. I didn't respond to him. I just left to find you." He rubs the back of his head.

"Dang, at least it wasn't a huge blow out."

"Yeah, I had some sort of control. I was just hurt. I mean it's now a little weird knowing... everything. Also I think I imprinted on you in our argument." He informs me and I furrow my eyebrows.

"Is that what this overwhelming feeling is?" I ask, pushing away from him. Not mad, just curious about this. "I think so." He smiles awkwardly.

"So we're stuck together for a while." I say. "Yeah, seems like it." He pulls me back into his arms.

[joltai-showa]

still thinking about Obito's tendencies to hang upside down so why not talk about something even more funny

now Obito is obviously trolling the Konoha squad in that moment, acting like a complete idiot and weirdo and all, usual stuff for Tobi. Obito is being a weird little bat on purpose, it's all an act

you know who among Akatsuki, a very scary and a totally serious organization, also acted like a weird little bat, but without it all being an act?

allow me to introduce you to the final page of chapter 238

Kishimoto, why is Deidara's first appearance is him being upside down during Akatsuki's zoom meeting?

(which is supposedly the first one in 7 years since Orochimaru ditched them, but whatever, no fucking way these guys can remain semi-organized without a good old online meetup, I do not care for canon's opinion when it conflicts with my funny headcanons)

But seriously, it's been almost 10 years since I read the manga for the first time and there's still no explanation as to why Deidara did that LMAO. Logic dictates that it's simply Kishimoto not finishing up the designs for his new villains (rinnegan's design wasn't finalized until, like, Akatsuki Supression arc, I believe? there's someone TOWERING over Kisame who is 195cm already and at the end of the day remains Akatsuki's tallest member, etc etc), but I've got a PhD in overthinking Naruto details and turning them into shitposts that sometimes also turn into fanfiction, so I will take this one tiny detail and make myself laugh until I cry.

To me this moment is just so precious because it's actually a scene from OG Naruto, meaning that it's pre-timeskip, so Deidara here is only 16. And this just proves to me that Deidara's puberty (there is no exact indicator as to when Deidara was abducted recruited into Akatsuki, but I assume it happened sometime when he was 12, because during his recruitment we see Itachi (and we know that he joined Akatsuki after the massacre, so he was 13 and he's got a 2 year difference with Deidara), Kisame (who, judging by his pre-death flashbacks, joined AFTER Itachi, meaning some time had to have passed since the massacre) and Sasori (who wouldn't have a partner after Itachi joined because Orochimaru just couldn't resist trying to get that Sharingussy, but Akatsuki don't operate on their own in general, so I doubt Sasori would have been left without a partner for a long time, a year max) and during this zoom meeting 16-year-old Deidara speaks like he's very much aligned with Akatsuki's goals and grudges which would be very weird if he joined them against his will just recently, so a year or more would have to pass between Deidara's recruitment and the OG Naruto zoom meeting) was arguably one of the worst things that organization as a whole had to go through because teenage Deidara was JUST BUILT DIFFERENT.

Don't mind the fact that even as an adult he starts tweaking if he doesn't get to explode something every few hours (I would imagine that teenage rage and angst would only exacerbate this issue), but he would also just want to "look cool" and wouldn't listen to anyone in any position of authority AT ALL. Going back to this scene of Akatsuki's zoom call, we can see (and for certain characters assume because once again designs here are kind of wack) that these overly serious members like Pain, Konan, Kakuzu and Sasori are PRESENT and just... don't do anything about Deidara's antics? They just gave up at some point LMAO. And a while ago, I presume.

16-year-old Deidara, proud and puffed up as a lion: You can stay on the ground as boring old men you are, but I'm going to hang upside down today, hm!

Pain, the acting leader of this very serious and lethal organization that for some reason took in a 13-year-old and a 12-year-old because, I dunno, the real leader thought it would be funny, sighing: okay, Deidara...

I also don't believe that it was ever specified how Nagato's zoom jutsu works, but I think Akatsuki's members simply sit in whatever position they want and their projection is different from their actual position which means that. yeah. Deidara does a bat cosplay. because he wants to. baby why are you like that.

but I also like to imagine Deidara actually hanging on the ceiling during the meetup and the gang just going

Pain: Sasori, can't you grab a mop or something and swat him off of there?

Sasori, in the most dead inside voice imaginable: you are not paying me enough to do that. in fact, you would not last a minute in the asylum I'm living in. you can't give me 40 minutes of peace, can you?

honestly props to Onoki for finding a way to both continue using Deidara's skills for his goals (by just fucking paying Akatsuki and calling it a day) and keep the village intact, teenage Deidara just seems like the trial version of what Akatsuki members could expect on their missions. like, if you can't manage the stress of dealing with the (pony)tailed beast, you have no business trying to fight an actual tailed beast.

I'm also thinking that adult Deidara aka Shippuden Deidara would think himself really cringe for doing this shit when he was younger and feels kind of embarrassed in front of the other members (who unfortunately besides Hidan were there to witness his cringe bat phase of growing up in your local terrorist daycare organization), so he's pretty quiet during the zoom meetings when we get properly introduced to him.

That's, of course, until Deidara gets partnered with Tobi.

I can imagine the two of them competing who can last longer hanging upside down and now Pain really can't do anything to stop this bullshit because it's his actual boss and his clueless partner making their own bat nest during their zoom meeting. He just tiredly glances over at Konan who gives him a "I told you Yahiko was right and we shouldn't have joined forces with this guy, but when do you ever listen to me" look.

The gang would be discussing something like Kakuzu and Hidan brutally murdering Asuma (who's Obito's classmate btw and whose mother he already killed a while ago) and trying to steal his corpse to sell for some cash and in the background above them Tobi'll be yelling something like "senpai, watch what I can do" and start turning cartwheels on the ceiling.

tl;dr Obito and Deidara match each other's freak when it comes to doing weird shit for no apparent reason other than to fuck with everyone while on the job. thanks for coming to my TobiTalk

[bbyobbyo]

To Mingyu, you were perfect. It was no wonder he was drawn to you when his long time best friend and roommate introduced you to him as his partner. Alas, you were perfect but you weren't his.

content: angst, fluff if you squint, suggestive (no actual depictions of sex), unrequited love, pining, gyu is a simp

wc: 729

notes: second attempt hehe, thank you everyone who read my vernon fic! feedback is appreciated, i'm still new here 😔👉👈

Truthfully, there was no better person for you than Wonwoo. Mingyu could at least admit that much. You complimented each other like yin and yang, supporting and uplifting one another in harmony. You were the much needed ray of sunshine and motivation in his life, and he was the structure and inspiration you wanted in yours. Over time your presence became a welcome constant in his life, first by association, then seemingly by necessity.

"She is the best thing to ever happen to me" his roommate would exclaim constantly, and Mingyu couldn't help but agree.

He tried to be happy for his friend, he really did. After all, why wouldn't he want the people he loves to be happy? It wasn't like he didn't want you visiting the apartment constantly, always with a delicious treat to share in hand. Nor did he dislike your genuine attempts to get to know him as a person, asking about his preferences and aspirations in life. In fact, it bothered him more and more that he wished you came over more often, even when his roommate wasn't home.

It was tortuous to hear the sounds in the apartment when you and Wonwoo thought he was asleep. Heavy moans and muted whines haunt his brain on those long nights filled with tossing and turning. The next morning he tries his best to pretend like he didn't see the hickeys littered on your neck just barely covered by your hair when he ran into you making breakfast. And yet, when you ask if he had a good night's sleep with an offer of making an extra serving for him, he doesn't have the heart to tell you the truth. That he spent the entire night wishing it was him in the bed next to you instead.

-

The day the world came crashing down on him was the day Wonwoo had told him about his plan to propose to you. An evening surrounded by his 12 closest friends that you have also come to adore, how perfect. It was so perfect that he didn't even have to think twice when saying yes when Wonwoo asked him to help film the entire affair.

"I trust you over Seokmin any day, that man can't keep a secret for his life. But if you tell her it's for a personal project, she won't suspect a thing!" he chuckles.

"Yeah," Mingyu mumbles back, not quite meeting his friend's eyes, "she won't see it coming."

-

Mingyu thinks he's going insane. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of photos from tonight and yet he's enamored by this one. You're absolutely dazzling, looking at the camera like you just discovered the lens, eyes turned into crescents and smiling cheek to cheek. How long has he waited for you to smile at him like that? And the first time you do, he's behind a camera. At your fucking wedding reception of all places.

"You like her." His head snaps up from the viewfinder.

"What?"

His older friend snakes a gentle hand on over his shoulder. "You like her, don't you?" Seungcheol repeats, voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu says nothing, slowly directing his gaze back downwards at the camera, screen stuck on the photo of you he took only a few moments ago. He can't do anything but sigh. Seungcheol's expression softens, giving his younger friend's shoulder a knowing squeeze.

"It gets better."

God, he sure hopes it does.

-

Mingyu's attention fades in and out when you're reading your vows. It's ironic that on one of the happiest days of your life, he finds it impossible to focus on you when it feels like that's all he's done for years. It was a welcome distraction, however. He can't decide what would destroy him more: listening to you profess your love to someone that wasn't him, or knowing that you meant every word. You end your monologue gracefully with a small smile, holding back a sob as the groom begins his.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me," Wonwoo begins, voice breaking as he bites back his own tears.

In another time, another place, Mingyu would've agreed with him. But in this moment, as you look at his best friend like he's the center of your whole world, Mingyu decides that you might have been the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

[bubbleddisasters]

Since Y’all liked the last one, heres something somewhat similar:

TWST Characters as funny / random ass moments with my friends/family

———-

Ace : A good friend of mine made an entire Cards against Humanity Deck including us, and we played it at like 4 am.

Also, one of my closest childhood friends of now 11 years, the way we first met was he insulted me, and then thirty minutes later I peeked at his notebook while he was drawing (our beds were next to eachother) recognized Sans from a meme, and then managed to bullshit through an entire conversation about Undertale without him suspecting I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.

I made a joke about it a little less then a year ago, thinking he knew by now, but no. He looks at me and the conversation goes:

“Are you telling me our entire first interaction was you just fucking improvising through a discussion of a fandom you didn’t know shit about?”

“Wait you didn’t know?”

“NO?!”

“You genuinely believed that I knew what I was talking about then for 10 years?!?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Deuce: I was biking with my sister, and she accidentally biked straight into a fucking lake. Also when my dad looked me dead in the eye after receiving one of my graded tests and goes

“How the fuck do you answer Maine four times on different questions and be wrong for all four times.”

Bonus Adeuceyuu combo: Me and two of my childhood friends once linked together to grab something we saw in a river, turns out it was just a broken fishing rod.

Also another on me and the above two friends meeting: The first thing one of them did was insult me, and I genuinely have zero memory of how I met the other.

Basically, we met at a sleepaway camp as kids, and for some reason, our sleepaway camp had some wackass shit, but one of them was this game. I don’t remember the name of it, but you had to go in groups of 3-4 and tie ribbons around each staff tent/cabinside without getting caught (and keep in mind each campsite and Cabins were very spread apart) at midnight, and the first to return to the cafeteria, where the staff were waiting, and did so after tying them all, on won.

Kids age 12-17, in the middle of fuck knows where in the woods Long Island, running around in the dark unsupervised with only any light bringing items they brought themselves.

So me, and we’ll call them C and M, teamed up. It’d take too long to go into full detail, but it was a very Prologue Mines fused with Camp Vargas core adventure.

Bonus First year gang in general : Me and three friends were waiting for something I genuinely don’t remember in an abandoned dorm area and got extremely bored, and one of them could do a perfect Donald Duck impression, and another a really good goofy, and this somehow led to us having a fake reality tv show verbal bitchfight as Donald, Goofy, Mickey and Minnie for a solid hour. We all regretted not recording it.

Cater: My friend from Wales entirely forgot about the existence of timezones and called me in the middle of my history class. Her ringtone at the time was just a clip of her screaming “Bread”.

How my teacher didn’t figure out who’s phone it was is beyond me.

Trey : Made Russian Roulette Spilt Cupcakes for a large group of my friends, and one is allergic to strawberries, while another’s favorite is, so I very specifically placed the strawberry filled one on the complete other side of the table with the intention of slipping it in after she picked her two.

Some fucking how, she ended up with the Strawberry one, which I had tied with a bow (basically the ones with bows mean they contain an allergen, and the color is the allergen. Ex: Strawberry was BRIGHT FUCKING PINK.) I’m to this day not exactly sure how, but my best guess is she traded hers with whoever originally got the Strawberry one before we ate.

Luckily, I told her partner, who had been my baking partner in crime and convinced me to add in the strawberry after I said it might be a bad idea, to bring two epi pens just incase.

Riddle : I am around 5’3, and I had a friend (?) who was 6’2-3 in middle school. We had almost the blatant definition of a Floyd and Riddle Dynamic, but he’d out of the blue be extremely sweet to me (kinda like that comic in the anthology), only on days I was going through shit. When I tell you I genuinely thought I was hallucinating when he did though-

Also, I yelled at him for nailing, yes, NAILING, a flag on the ceiling reading :”el sábado es para los chicos” (Saturday is for the boys) In the fucking Spanish classroom. Since nobody was as tall as him and the janitors didn’t notice it, it was there for like a week.

Che’nya : My friend and I have an ongoing inside joke where whenever we spot the other through a window in the hallway, we text the other “behind you” or “to your__”

Leona : I brought a pillow with a silk pillow case (gift from my mom) to a sleepover once, and my friend went “You trust leaving me in the room with this?” and I genuinely responded “Its a pillow, why wouldn’t I trust you.” entirely forgetting that Silk can be pretty expensive.

I felt so bad bro.

Ruggie : My friend once dared me to get a one plate of everything during a party. I misinterpreted this and brought a mostly to full plate of each thing, including water bottles.

Turns out they meant balance one of everything on a single plate.

I did not, infact, return the seven brownies, four cupcakes, two cookies, twelevish tangerines, popcorn and god knows how many grapes, but everything else was returned or snatched by friends.

Jack: My friend was throughly convinced she knew where she was going when we got lost outside at one of the biggest malls in fucking America, and we ended up walking a good 4/6th of the perimeter before finding the target (the store, we were still fucking lost) , which we called her mom to pick us up at.

Bonus: My friend, a few dormmates and I were at Starbucks and this random woman comes up to my friend and goes “Hey, they got my order wrong, want my drink?” and I was literally trying to give him this face of “BAD IDEA”. Yea so he ignored the obvious and drank the whole fucking thing and was bouncing off the walls for the rest of the day. (This one could also work for Jamil I suppose.)

Floyd : I was once walking with a friend of mine and jokingly said Trees are giant salads.

This motherfucker breaks off a branch of the nearest tree, takes a fatass bite, drops it, and goes “I want a refund.”

Jade : Randomly got interrogated my mushroom hunters—-

(I kind you the fuck not, MUSHROOM. HUNTERS. Basically, they go out to hunt/find/ forage for rare mushrooms. Atleast thats what they told us?! I wasn’t paying much attention, I was busy petting their dog tbh)

—While camping, my friend and I had zero clue what they were talking about, so she just pointed in a random direction and they thanked us and left.

The same friend also introduced me to mica, but always called them Mermaid Scales, and we more than once walked around in the water looking for them, I was the only one that would literally stop mid-trail to pick some up though. I have a massive collection.

Also she never let me live down the fact I once trapped myself in my tent with fucking dental floss overnight just to see if I could, then couldn’t undo it in the morning, and our adult / guide / trying to keep us alive person had to cut me out with a knife.

Azul : This one very specific time as a kid I was talking to two identical twins, who were standing on each side of me, wearing the same outfits but color reversed, and nearly had an internal breakdown trying to remember which was which, so I just did verbal gymnastics around using their names.

We later literally spent two hours fighting for ours lives together and I shit you not I STILL COULDNT REMEMBER THEIR FUCKING NAMES.

Kalim : Went shopping with my badass grandma and somehow left with a Second Hand Valentino (the brand) dress for $50 and a free bracelet one of the employees gave me because ….I actually don’t know.

Also, I got trapped on a really high up indoor water slide with my sister because the water entirely stopped (we learned later the water machine tied to that ride blew up) , and where we were was like a weird slope like between two drops. We couldn’t get back up, and going down was too risky without water bcs we could go splat.

There was like a window ish on the ride, so like a smart 8 year old, I start calling for help at the top of my lungs. My sister (10) also did this. There was this guy who I guess heard us that we nicknamed Chad because he looked like the most stereotypical 2000’s beach movie love interest lifeguard and was dramatically looking around for where the voices were coming from but NEVER LOOKED UP??

Anyway, My sister got us out in the end because she found a hatch and managed to open it, and I shit you not there was a spiral staircase with a gigantic fucking sign reading “DO NOT CLIMB STAIRCASE.”

So obviously, my sister chucks me across the gap onto the staircase and then jumps over herself, and we end up spending another 40 minutes after that fiasco trying to find our parents while i’m pretty sure Chad was trying to find us.

After the 40 minutes we just assumed we were now orphans and went back to where we left our keycard and low and behold our parents had just come back from wherever they had fucked off to.

Also Chad found us and felt super bad, and bought us a smore cake?!? Someone throw him back in time to be his destined role as an extra in Teen Beach Movie. The cake was great though, but that was one hell of an 8th birthday lmao.

Jamil : My friend from India (jokily) Divorced me after my dumbass asked her if Chai was an ingredient used in Chai Tea.

Spoiler Alert : Chai IS THE TEA. Apparently, asking for Chai Tea is the equivalent of saying “Can I have some Tea Tea please.”

Yea safe to say I felt real stupid in that moment.

Epel : My sister once locked me in the bathroom so she could test her new makeup on me. She left for one second and I kid you not I snuck out of the window.

Random bonus : Me and my cousins for some reason ended up roughhousing outside after one of our older cousins weddings, and I judo flipped a whole ass 17 year old man at age 12 and I felt so powerful in that moment.

Also If you saw about the ranch in the previous post, me that gang had an anonymous cookie provider who would leave us two tins of fresh cookies every day around 12ish pm, usually behind the kitchen or outside the equipment shack.

Yes, we tried to catch them once, No, we didn’t succeed. Also nobody wanted to risk loosing cookie privileges, so we didn’t try again.

Rook: Once scared the living shit out of my online friend by texting him “I am now several miles closer to your location.” . He lives in South America, and I happened to be in Florida with a friend, so I thought i’d be funny.

Vil : I was going to a cosplay convention with a friend, and instead of bringing like a normal amount of makeup, my indecisive ass brought basically a whole suitcase worth of it.

Also won a costume competition at my boarding school for Halloween, and wasn’t even aware there was a competition until the year after, when a good half or more of my dormmates asked me to do their makeup because they’d heard I was really good at it.

Idia: Ok, so, long story, but my friend invited me and two mutual friends to see Sweeney Todd on Broadway w/ the og cast. However, I was the only one who didn’t know we were going anywhere, because he thought his mom told my dad we were going to see Sweeney Todd, while my dad thought my friend told me, but also he was suspiciously alluding to it, maybe unintentionally

So I show up in a blue hoodie with a bad pun on it, mildly ripped sweatpants, mismatched socks and bright rainbow crocs. Not very “going to watch a musical about cannibalism and Serial Killers” attire. But it gets worse.

So around the 3/4ths into the first act is when I usually get snacks at musicals or plays, since they’re usually just finished setting up and theres no line, so I’m in and out and don’t miss much.

Well, I did that as usual, and its important to know we had front row balcony seats, because…

I slipped on my friends playbill on the way to my seat, and my fucking left croc went flying down into the seats below us, and hit an older woman in the head right at Sweeney did the first oofing, and the stage lights go red for a moment in this scene.

I felt so bad, and was literally too embarrassed to go get the shoe myself, so one of my friends got it for me. Apparently the lady thought it was somewhat funny (thank fucking goodness)

Ortho : My sister and I were biking once, and found out some reason the coats we had (school merch from field day I think). had the biggest fucking hidden pockets known to man.

So the next time we went out, she for some reason decided to put our dads entire laptop in there.

Also bonus: My friend once invited me over to their house to help with their costume, and when I came over, the costume was literally a gigantic trash can. No, not the actual object, They were literally making a giant trashcan costume.

I helped but still remained mildly confused in the process.

Malleus : I had a good friend who lived next to a graveyard, and sometimes we would just go on nice walks in the graveyard.

Lilia: Another Wilderness one: We were making Pasta, and one of the guys in our group was playing with a large thing of moss, tripped, and the moss got into the fucking pasta.

One guide said “Nature Consequence, we can still eat it” while the other screamed they were going to get fired.

Also, me and a friend were singing bo-burnham on a hike, and for some reason we had this stupid ass idea of making a fake fishing rod called…..

“The Child Catcher.”

(The irony ony of us both being 14 at the time so technically we were children)

We found a good fishing rod like stick and a vine, tied a vine on, and I kid you not we carried that thing for MILES. We also made a fork with a flatly shaped stick and a rock named Reddie.

Yea living in the woods does somethin to ya I gotta say.

Bonus: One of my childhood friends had a very giant dog, and one time we had a sleepover, she was laying infront of the other side of the door when we woke , and because of the way the door was, we couldn’t get through.

So my genius solution was to climb out the window (this was on the second floor) , Cha-Cha real smoothed to the nearest other window, go through there, and lure the dog away with a treat.

It worked.

Silver: Went to this make your own dipped popsicle thing with a good friend of mine, and watched in pure horror as she got a mango popsicle dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in fruity pebbles.

Another one: I was at a Sleepover and there was this tent like thing that was meant for tiny people (aka me, not really it was for toddlers but I was small enough to fit at the time), and at some point in the middle of the night, someone tripped on the tent and it entirely collapsed on me, and not only did I sleep through it, I ended up being the last person to wake up because they all saw the tent collapsed and assumed I was already awake.

Also I was camping once and I rolled away from my tarp and somehow down a road, and my friend said when she found me there was just several butterflies and caterpillars on me. I originally didn’t know but I found a caterpillar on my head that morning and apparently it was poisonous (I was fine and I named him Bob)

Sebek: I was in an escape room with some friends, and I discovered that a key we had gotten in the very beginning worked on another lock, so I did that, and later one of my loud friends finds a key and is SPIRALING because she can’t find what it unlocks for like 30 minutes, and after several minutes I realized, unintentionally slammed my hand on a desk and screamed “OH SHIT.” with zero context.

That experience was actually my first time in a escape room with friends, and not my family or a bunch of drunk strangers in suits + my concerned mother.

Second years : My friends in the priorly mentioned group consisted of who I’ll call N, who was doing 70% of the work, we had R, who was angrily searching for the lock to the key, we had T, the birthday boi, who was randomly making jokes about the 1930s, S, who genuinely forgot he had a key item in his pocket, and A, who dramatically serenaded the paintings after misinterpreting a clue and me, who kept accidentally unlocking shit ahead of time.

Third Years: Prior to the other mentioned event, we had gone to a small improv event that ended up being just us, and the poor guy running it kept giving us scenarios and random conditions which we would absolutely make the craziest shit from.

If I remember correctly, one of the skits was we were supposed to be a school board, and the condition was when someone said an idea, you had to say yes.

The result? a organ harvesting business thats front was a school, and everytime someone got detention, one organ of theirs was sold, and the funds went into funding the biogenetically engineered creation of Hatsune Miku and Cat Boys.

For some reason this skit also led somehow into atomic glitter and cocaine missiles, selling souls on Ebay with express shipping, using Sephora Products and Instagram to spread our propaganda, making meme complications of our crimes, and nuking the Bermuda Triangle.

Ask no questions because I have no answers.

——————————-

Yea thats it for now! Enjoy!

:3

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 10/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: Ten of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 5,668 warnings: none? a little emotional soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve

Lift the bundle from the crock. Untie and remove cheesecloth. Brush with liquor and syrup mixture. Wrap in waxed paper. Place in box. Seal. Wrap and fasten with red ribbon. Affix tag. Add to stack.

Repeat.

The steady, repetitive task kept Natalie's mind blank. The kitchen reeked of fruitcake and the liquor and syrup. She had purposefully chosen non-Christmas music to play on her phone, though had somehow missed a couple carols on her playlist. Adding another cheesecloth to the pile, she picked up the brush and dipped it into the bowl, sweeping the syrup over the top of the cake then sliding it onto the waxed paper.

She couldn't hear anything above the music playing in her ears but knew the moment the back door opened. She wasn't sure if it was because of the cold air that slipped into the kitchen, or the shadow that moved in her peripheral vision. Pausing in her task, she held her breath, finally turning to see her father washing his hands in the sink. He didn't say a word, even after she removed her earbuds, and she felt the pain in the silence as he took another fruitcake from the large crock.

They worked without speaking. She remembered a long-ago night when they had worked in this fashion. When the air had been thick with the words she had already said and the silence had been painful. The only difference was that they were both a little older.

As he placed the last fruitcake on the counter, she felt a pang in her chest. The last fruitcake was always taken home. It was the only one he allowed himself, even though it was his favorite holiday treat and hers, too. He wrapped it meticulously in the waxed paper, as those for customers had been wrapped, then paused.

Natalie furrowed her brow when he unfolded the paper and reached for one of the knives on the magnetic strip. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but it was obvious he was going to slice into the fruitcake. Despite his self-imposed rule that it wait for Christmas Eve, when it would be enjoyed with his best brandy after getting back from the candlelight service at church. She watched the knife glide through the cake, watched the slices cascade, then watched him set the knife down.

"I don't have my brandy," he said.

"It's not Christmas Eve," she pointed out.

"Are you gonna be here then?" he asked.

Her breath caught, and she thought of her laptop, which she'd left on the kitchen table, email open on the job offer. "I will."

"Then we'll take another one home for then." He picked up a slice and looked at it.

"Two fruitcakes for yourself?"

"Why the hell not."

Natalie bit her lip, waiting for him to bite into the slice. When he didn't, she frowned.

"Did I ever tell you where I got this recipe?" he asked, still staring at it.

"I don't think so."

"It was in your mother's family. Started as a Christmas pudding with her great-great-grandmother in England, and when they came here they adapted it. Her mother perfected it. It was the one thing I'd never been able to do right, and when we got married, she and your Nana showed me how to do it properly." He sighed. "It was the third-best thing she ever gave me."

"What were first and second?"

"Second was her love and partnership over the twenty-two years we had together." He turned, holding the slice of fruitcake out to her.

She took it, knowing just by touch and smell that it had been prepared perfectly. "What was the first?"

"You."

"Oh, Dad," she whispered, vision blurring with tears. She wasn't a gift. She was a nightmare. She'd left him at the worst possible time, had distanced herself for years, and had only come back because she had no choice. And her knee-jerk reaction when she got upset had been to do the exact same thing. But it occurred to her that if she took the job in Atlanta and left, that she wouldn't be welcomed back so warmly. "I think you're wrong."

"I never thought I was."

"Even when I left?"

"Especially then."

"How?" she asked, setting the slice down. She didn't deserve a bite. "How could you still think I was great when I basically told you to take this place and shove it?"

"Because you're my child. And I'll always love you. I'll always be proud of you."

She shook her head. "I'm nothing to be proud of. I've had how many jobs? I either choose a place about to go bankrupt or a company I don't fit in with—"

"That's just bad luck, Natalie."

"How many punches on my bad luck card do I have to get before I get some good luck?" Natalie shook her head again and pushed away from the counter. "Ever since Mom died, I've spiraled like water in a toilet before it flushes down."

"You think you're the only one?" he asked, scowling. "You think you're the only person this world craps on? Grow up. People around the world have it worse in a day than you have in a year."

She gaped at him, not sure if she was insulted by or surprised by his outburst.

"There are folks out there who don't know where their next meal is coming from. Families that have to choose between keeping the lights on or putting food on the table for the week. People get kicked out of their supposedly loving homes because of who they're attracted to or what they do or don't believe in and have to fend for themselves. Kids that are sick and dying but can't get the help they need."

"I know," she said. "But—"

"You've never had to worry about any of that. Because of this place," he said, gesturing around them. "Because my grandparents chose this little spot to settle after they got married, and because they put years of blood and sweat and tears and love into this dump. And then your grandparents stepped in and kept it going. When prices had to go up and sales slacked off, we went without just to keep this place open. Then it was my turn, and when you came along I swore that I would do everything I could to make sure you never had to want for anything."

"Dad—"

"You're allowed to be selfish. I know when you're down how hard it is to see that it could be so much worse. But you don't have it so bad. There's a roof over your head and you didn't have to pay for your schooling." He inhaled then exhaled shakily. "I wanted you to take over for me when it was my turn to hang up my apron, because it's the family business. And yes, it hurt like hell when you told me you'd rather do anything else, but I knew I had to let you go."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She didn't know what else to say.

"I'm sorry that you're upset because I'm selling the place. But I'm not sorry I'm doing it. You don't want it. Max does. And he'll be successful, because he loves this almost as much as I do."

"Does he?"

"He does. I told him I'd take down all the old stuff and he insisted it stay. He doesn't want to change it. He said…" Her father paused, closing his eyes briefly. "He said there are lifetimes of memories on the walls and he wouldn't dream of wiping them away."

"He's right." Anywhere she looked she could pull up a memory. The counter, currently stacked with fruitcakes, wiped clean and being dusted with flower so her mother could teach her how to knead. The row of knives on the magnetic strip, which she had taken down once a week so her father could sharpen them. It was a physical rolodex of memories, good and bad, and so was the shopfront, where she had spent the afternoons of her childhood. "I grew up in this building."

"I know you did."

"It was the last place I saw Mom." She stared in the direction of the back door, which her mother had pushed open and then paused, unruly snowflakes floating inside as she reminded Natalie to put the chicken on for dinner. Her own bored reply echoed in her mind and she again felt the flush of guilt and shame.

"Me, too." He finally stepped away from the counter, limping over to switch on the coffeepot near the oven. He stopped, placing one hand on the door of the oven. "She was mad at me."

"She was?" Natalie frowned. She didn't recall her mother being mad. Rushing, yes, and complaining about the weather she had to drive in, but not mad. "What about?"

"I was supposed to go shopping with her. But I had to put in an order, and was running late on getting the work for morning done. She didn't like driving in the snow. I told her to stop being a baby. She told me I was being an inconsiderate ass. It was my fault she was leaving late, and it's my fault she went alone."

"Dad, no," Natalie whispered. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know the accident wasn't. Not really. But… It was. If I'd left the work for morning go until we got back, or told her to wait until the next afternoon… Or if I'd delayed her longer so she was five minutes later. Or had told her to leave earlier…" Mark drew in a shaky breath. "She wouldn't have been in that spot when that driver hit the bit of ice."

"But it could have happened to her either way. Or it could have been so much worse." The fact that no one else had been injured or died in the accident had at first been a point of anger, but it had shifted into a comfort. Her mother would have been upset at more loss of life. "Or you could have been in the car and died, too."

"I know all that, sweetie. It doesn't make it easier."

"I know," she murmured. She hesitated, then finally closed the space between them.

"I didn't tell her I loved her."

"I didn't either."

He lowered his head and her heart broke for him. She slowly reached forward and placed her hand on his arm. He turned slightly and her breath hitched at the tears in his eyes. "It hurts every day I walk in here, because I always remember that my last words to her were 'hurry home' and not that I loved her."

"She knew you loved her. Dad, she knew."

"She knew you loved her, too." He wrapped his arm around her and exhaled slowly. "She would be so proud of you."

"Sometimes I think so." Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. "She'd hate that I'm single and childless, though."

"Yeah, she did want grandkids," he murmured with a quick chuckle. "But more importantly she wanted you happy."

"I thought I was. Then I wasn't. For a little bit when I first moved back I was. Now I'm not again." Sniffling, she pressed her face into his shirt.

"Have you talked to Oscar?"

She stiffened and pulled away, brushing her tears away while turning to put the boxed fruitcakes away. "There's nothing to talk to him about."

"He didn't do anything, sweetie."

"He lied to me."

"And you've never lied?"

"Not about something this important." Picking up two boxes, she carried them to the storage rack.

"I lied, too. Be mad at me."

"I love you too much to stay mad at you," she admitted.

"I was gonna say the same thing." He got his garish mug from its hook above the coffeepot and filled it. "You love him, too."

"No I don't."

"You're lying again."

"I don't!" She set the next two fruitcakes down with more force than necessary. "God, I don't even know him."

"Well." When she glanced over, her father was twirling the coffee in his cup. "You know him pretty well, I'd imagine."

"I'd rather not talk about that."

"You never said how his scrambled eggs were."

"They were sunny side up."

He chuckled. "You do love a runny yolk."

"It takes more than sex and a good cooked egg for love, Dad."

"You know what it took for your mother and me?" He waited until she threw up her hands in silent defeat and smiled. "A laugh."

"A laugh," she repeated, blinking in confusion. "Really?"

"She was visiting her cousin over the summer. They came in one morning for donuts and I shortchanged her." His smile widened and Natalie knew he was lost in the memory. "Wish I could say it was because she was so beautiful I forgot how to subtract, but it was because I was in a hurry so I could go out back and smoke. She came back in a few minutes later and then marched right out back to tell me to give her the three dollars I owed her. Then she took the cigarette from me and threw it on the ground. Hop to it, she said, snapping her fingers. I asked her who the hell she thought she was, and when she said either my dream customer or my worst nightmare, I laughed in her face."

Natalie smiled. She'd heard the tale before, but only that her mother had come in and had thought Mark was cute. She had only meant to stay in town two weeks to visit her cousin, then had extended her stay to last the entire summer. She'd come back over her Christmas break from college and had never left except to go get her things from her dorm.

"She told me the night I proposed that she fell in love with me right then."

"That's sweet, Dad. But it's more complicated for me and Oscar."

"Because you're making it complicated."

"He doesn't even know what he's going to do after Max and Eve move into the house."

"So?"

"And I might be leaving."

"And?"

"I don't think Oscar's the type to follow a woman to Atlanta." She sighed. "He doesn't like big cities."

"There's always a suburb. And the type of work he does he can do anywhere."

"Plus he lied to me."

"Because it wasn't any of his business. It was my job to tell you, and I royally screwed that up. He cares about you."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm not blind, sweetie." He sighed and took a sip of his coffee. "Don't push him away. You know he's a good man."

"He is," she agreed.

"And I guess he's okay looking."

"He is," she said again. He was more than okay looking.

"I'm not trying to push you into a relationship with him, I just want you to patch things up. It's up to you to do that."

"I guess so." She smiled faintly, remembering Oscar gently urging her to talk to her dad.

"But do it quick."

"Why?"

"I miss Penny."

Oscar slid the last cookie onto the platter and tossed the cooling rack into the sink. Baking wasn't his strength, but he had always heard that the scent of fresh-baked cookies made a house smell like home. He knew his friend would be slightly disgusted that he'd bought and baked pre-made dough, but it was the best he could do. Setting the platter on the island counter, he moved to rinse the racks and dried them off before pushing them into the drawer next to the stove. He wiped down the sink, slightly adjusted the platter of cookies, then did a quick look through the house to make sure everything was truly ready.

It was. He'd made up all the beds with the sheets Eve had brought one weekend. There was a new puzzle mat waiting for Lucas in his new room. For Grace was a set of toy horses, one of which resembled Bonny and her foal. On the dresser in the master bedroom was a vase filled with purple roses and a gift certificate to the town's salon for Eve. Next to it was the pair of sunglasses he'd purchased to replace the ones of Max's he'd broken accidentally. Eve's home office was ready to go except for her computer and whatever little things she wanted to place on the shelves. The bedroom he had been using was clean, his things mostly packed and ready to be loaded into his truck after Christmas when he left. He wasn't sure but he had an inkling it would soon be made into a nursery. Max's home office downstairs was ready to go, complete with the new computer Eve had ordered for him. The playroom was organized and neat, all the toys in their respective cubbies. The living room and den and dining room were ready, and he knew without looking that the basement was, too.

He ran his hand along the back of the couch, checking that the living room was perfect. His gaze moved to the plush rug in front of the fireplace and he tried his best to ignore the way his chest squeezed. Turning his attention to the Christmas decorations, he nodded to himself, glancing to the twinkling tree in front of the bow window. Underneath it were two wrapped gifts for Grace and Lucas to open that night. Moving into the front hall, he idly adjusted the lighted garland twining down the banister of the staircase.

From the utility room behind the kitchen came a small yip, and he watched Penny come trotting through to the front hall, skidding to a stop at the front door, where she sat, tail thumping excitedly.

"They here?" he asked, bending to scratch behind her ears while he opened the door. She waited, body starting to wriggle, then darted out as soon as Max's SUV was parked and the engine cut off. Oscar leaned in the doorway, smiling, as the dog rushed around in excited circles, then zoomed to greet first Eve and then Max.

"Hey!" Max laughed when Penny leaped through his open door.

"Penny," Oscar called, stepping out onto the porch. "C'mon, girl."

A few seconds later she jumped out of the passenger door, and took her time to join him on the porch. Her tail wagged incessantly as Eve let Grace out, and when they headed across she gave another yip of greeting.

"Hey," Oscar greeted, catching Grace when she threw herself at him in a hug. "Good drive?"

"Mommy peed three times," the girl announced.

"Yes thank you, Grace," Eve sighed. "I'm sure Oscar needs to know about my bladder function."

He knew why already, but he had to ask. Grinning, he caught her in a quick hug while Max carried Lucas from the car. "Did Max make you drink Red Bull again?"

"He knows better by now." Eve smiled. The same smile she'd given him twice before. "I've been drinking more water today."

"Why?" he asked, making a face.

"Damned if I know." She moved inside, then turned around and grabbed his arm. "You know, don't you?"

"Know what?" he grunted, stumbling when she yanked on his sleeve. "Eve!"

"He told you!" She glared at Max, who was just coming up the steps. "You told him!"

"I didn't tell him a damn thing!"

"Oooo!" Lucas's eyes widened. "Bad Daddy."

"Your mother drops the f-word three times a day and I get scolded for saying damn?" Max shook his head. "What's up with that?"

"Mommy." The boy shrugged as though that were enough explanation, then tipped his head back to look at the lights crisscrossing the ceiling of the porch. "Pretty lights."

"The decorating looks great, Oscar," Max said, nodding with approval. "Your best work."

"Thanks. I had thorough instructions."

"It does look great," Eve agreed, still holding onto his sleeve. "It looked so beautiful from the street. Did you leave—"

"Room on the main tree for the kids' ornaments, yes," Oscar finished for her, nodding. "Can I have my arm back now?"

"Did he tell you?" she asked.

"No, he didn't."

Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "You were supposed to ask me what he allegedly told you."

Oscar blinked, then slowly turned his head to look at his friend. "What'd she say?"

"You gave the wrong answer." Max looked at his wife. "I didn't tell him."

"But he knows."

"I gotta nose," Lucas announced, jamming his index finger in one nostril. "See?"

"Ew," Eve groaned. Letting go of Oscar's sleeve, she took the boy from Max and began rummaging in her purse for a tissue. "No boogers, please, Mommy can't handle it today. Do I smell cookies?"

Grace jumped up from where she'd been lying, loving on Penny. "Cookies? You baked, Oscar?"

"Uh, yeah, but—"

"Cookies!"

"They're the pre-made stuff," Oscar told Max before he could ask. "Don't judge me."

"I judge you every damn day, it's my right as your best friend." Max grinned and headed inside. "Wow, you've made a lot of progress. All the floors are finished?"

"Yeah." Oscar closed the front door while the kids ran towards the kitchen.

"Oh my god," Eve gasped, freezing in the archway to the living room. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, and she slowly spun to stare at him.

"Surprise," he said, smiling.

"Babe, the dining room – Whoa," Max said, joining his wife.

"You said it would be after Christmas," she said.

"I lied?" More than a little touched by their reaction, especially when he saw the glimmer of tears in Eve's eyes, he cleared his throat. "I didn't want you to have to cram the last of the moving into those few days after Christmas, and… I wanted to give y'all a good gift. Especially with, y'know."

"What?" Max asked, unzipping his coat.

"You know," Oscar said slowly.

"Oh for fuck's sake, we all know I'm pregnant again, stop tiptoeing around it." Eve flung her arms around Oscar and squeezed. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," he murmured, hugging her back. "You guys deserve to spend Christmas in your new house."

"The upstairs is done, too?" she asked.

"Beds made, rugs vacuumed, everything already here is put away." He smiled when she headed up the stairs. "I even put a mint on the pillows."

"You're an asshole for not telling us it was finished, but I love you," she called over her shoulder.

"Love you too," he promised.

Max hung up his coat, then picked up Eve's from where she'd dropped it. "When did you finish?"

"Couple days ago. I spent yesterday and today doing the decorating and cleaning up." Oscar picked up Eve's purse and set it on the console table. "I figured I could rent a van and start bringing the rest of your stuff down next week."

"That'd be great. Did Natalie help?"

Oscar tried to not react to the mention of her name, but knew his frined had caught something when his eyebrows lifted. "No, she didn't."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"She found out about the bakery."

Max sucked in a breath between his teeth. "Mark said he was gonna tell her this weekend."

"She found something about it from a lawyer." Moving into the living room, Oscar crossed to the fireplace and adjusted the screen. "She was upset. At me."

"Because you didn't tell her?"

"Yeah."

Max nodded. "It wasn't fair to ask you not to say anything."

"If I'd told her, she still would have been upset," he sighed, staring at the fire. Not wanting to remember what had occurred in that spot the last time the fire had been going, he stepped away, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Maybe not as bad."

Oscar sighed. "Doesn't matter. She's done with me."

"Done?"

"I asked her if we could talk about it and she said she had nothing more to say to me." He shrugged, trying his best to pretend he wasn't as affected by her cold dismissal as he truly was.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Max whispered. "It's all my fault."

"No it's not."

"I should have told her. I should have made Mark tell her. I should have told Susie. I should have—"

"Max, stop. It just wasn't meant to be."

"You're gonna give up?"

"It wasn't like it could go anywhere."

"Why the hell not? You like her. She likes you. There were hearts in your eyes and music playing whenever you looked at each other."

"It's better this way," he insisted. "I'm leaving after Christmas."

"You're what?"

Oscar jerked his head up at the sound of Eve's voice. Sighing, he nodded. "I'm leaving after Christmas."

"Why? Where are you going? What are you gonna do?" she asked, glancing towards the kitchen. She squatted down, catching Lucas when he toddled up to her and thrust a cookie in her face.

"Oscar cookies," the boy said proudly, bringing the cookie back so he could take a large bite.

"Where's your sister?" Eve unzipped her son's coat and struggled to get it off without making him let go of the cookie. "Grace!"

Oscar watched his niece appear, coat hanging from her arms. She shook it off then dragged it to the coat rack. And, when her mother told her to go look at her room, she took off upstairs.

"Well?" Eve demanded, straightening and looking at him.

"I'll figure something out between now and then," he said.

"I thought you were looking at the place on the edge of town."

Oscar swiveled his gaze to his friend.

Max shrugged. "I tell her everything."

"Take Lucas up to see his room," she said, eyes never leaving Oscar. "I've got to talk to Oscar."

"Good luck," Max whispered before scooping his son into his arms.

She wasn't usually one for exercise. But the day was so nice. It was damp due to the rain the night before, and the snow was still in thick drifts, but the sun was shining and it was warm enough she didn't need a thick coat. She had felt closed-up, something she wasn't used to feeling, and had finally thrown on a jacket and decided to go for a brisk walk to clear her head. At first she kept to the side streets, and after going around until she was nearly back home, she headed for Main Street and then followed it along until she reached the outskirts of town.

Stopping to unzip her jacket and consider how she wanted to go back through town, she felt a sudden prickle of awareness. She turned slightly, seeing first the 'For Sale' sign and then the little white clapboard split-level. Mr. Wright's house, she thought, recalling hearing that he had moved to the center of town to live with his sister. Her gaze moved to the truck in the driveway and her chest lurched.

Oscar.

As though her presence had conjured him up, the door opened and he stepped outside, laughing. Carlos was behind him, laughing as well, and the two men stood on the small porch, chatting.

Her heart squeezed almost painfully. He didn't see her. Or maybe he did and he didn't care enough to acknowledge? She wavered, unsure whether to call out a greeting or turn and go away before he could look in her direction. She hadn't yet made up her mind what she wanted to say to him, or if she wanted to say anything to him at all. She looked on as the men shook hands, and took a step forward just as Oscar started down the steps.

He stopped, so she did as well. Despite the distance she saw the hesitance in his expression, and bit her lip when he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Oh, damn it, she had to speak to him. She continued walking forward, sneakers slipping a little on the pile of snow at the end of the flagstone walk. With each step she tried to think of something to say, but then she saw that he was walking toward her. They met halfway and both stopped at the same time.

Natalie pulled her earbuds from her ears, hastily cramming them into the pocket of her jacket. What was she supposed to say? How could she begin to explain her outburst, her irrational anger towards him that had now faded? What could she possibly say to make it even a little bit better? There was an awkward tension between them and even though she couldn't look away from him she knew that Carlos had sensed it when she heard him mutter something and go back into the house.

Oscar's eyes looked a little sad and she wondered if that were her fault.

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

"I'm sorry," he said at the same time.

"I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you—"

"I should have told you when you asked—"

"It wasn't fair—"

"It was wrong to keep you in the dark—"

"I dragged you in the middle when you were just a bystander—"

"I just didn't want to upset you—"

"I blew it all out of proportion because I was hurt—"

"Especially when I realized I was falling for you so fast and—"

"I was thinking I might be falling in love even though we just met—"

They both stopped. At the same time.

Natalie blinked. So did he. She didn't know why, but she began to smile. And was relieved when he did, too. A laugh bubbled up when they both took a step forward. Slipping her hand into his when he held it out, she sighed.

"You wanna go for a walk?" he asked.

"I just did, but yes."

They strolled to the sidewalk, and his fingers slotted between hers. "Can we talk, too?"

"I think we should." She stopped, frowning. "You're just gonna leave your truck?"

"I can walk back and get it."

Resuming her steps, she squeezed his hand. "I'll walk back with you."

[browneyesandhair]

Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Polin

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Polin edition:

These Days Will Fade Out by noveltyromance

Summary:

Penelope walked in and inspected the silvery words embedded on her skin. She really did meet her soulmate. It wouldn’t have turned colors if he was not hers. “So he said your words,” she mumbled softly to herself in the mirror, “but you didn’t say his.” It only meant one thing. Colin was her soulmate. But she wasn’t his.

tend my garden by runimpossiblegirl

Summary:

The forget-me-not on Penelope´s upper left arm had appeared when she was just sixteen. [Orinally posted with 5700 words on 31/12. Now updated to final version with 6900 and extra Colin POV on 01/01]

i'll use you as a warning sign by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

The words on his body sound like Lady Whistledown. His soulmate - the person meant to capture his body and heart, his partner and love of his life - ruins lives. Perhaps it makes sense that she’s already ruined his. - Or, soulmate AU where the words you write show up on your soulmate's skin.

i might lose everything if i lose the pain by frankchurchillsaysrelax

Summary:

Based on the prompt: On your 18th birthday you get a soul mark - one that would be identical to your soulmates. Colin is devastated that his does not match Marina’s. Trying to lighten up his mood days later - his brothers teasingly console him by saying that Penelope could get his mark when she turns 18 and that’s when she overhears him say that he would never marry her because he didn't think she's his soulmate. And as is Penelope's life a couple years later she gets an identical mark. Now she plans to hide it because she can’t handle his disappointment.

Give Me All The Pain (Give Me Everything) by wasteddarlinglover

Summary:

Penelope Featherington's soulmate hated her. She was alright with that. She hated him just as much. The only reason for their bond to exist was to bring each other pain. Colin Bridgerton's soulmate gave up on him years ago. He was not worthy of love and patience that their bond required. He learned to accept that and move on with his life. When two broken souls are brought together, Penelope and Colin find hope. Neither one of them can be with their soulmate, but maybe they can build something remarkable together. If they manage to let go of the pain, maybe they could even let themselves fall in love.

All the Time in the World by dontmakemeover

Summary:

All ladies of the Ton are instructed by their Queen to implant a TiMER on their wrists when they enter society at age 16. It is the truest and best way to find a Soulmate, with the TiMER counting down until the first time they will meet. Countless marriages have started this way (with at least a few of them ending the same way!) But Penelope Featherington does not highly rate this technology, for when her TiMER was implanted, the screen was blank. And what's more, she has seen the timer of the man she would like to be her true love, Colin Bridgerton, and knows that whoever her soulmate truly is, his is not her.

Latibule by The_Readers_Muse

Summary:

It was said you would be drawn to your one. That was the only advantage you had.

For the Both of Us by logogram

Summary:

A conversation with Fife and Cho leaves Colin wondering whether Penelope is his soulmate. Unfortunately, she seems to have become stubbornly attached to her gloves.

And So the Yandere Met the Bonnet Assassin by Seaowl

Summary:

There was a reason Violet was so hell bent to see all eight of her children married. The most valuable things to them are their soulmates and the family is told all their life that you are to do anything to protect and keep your soulmate. Lie, cheat, kill, frame, anything is on the table. The family that is so big on love that they become quite possessive of those who marry in, even if it is the soulmate of one of their siblings.

i'm the lock and you're the key by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

Penelope is ready to move on. Pining after Colin Bridgerton requires too much energy, too much of her soul. Penelope wants to find her soulmate, but maybe that may not be Colin after all. But… perhaps one last effort is necessary to completely eliminate Colin from her heart and mind. - Or, the “you must sleep with someone to determine if they’re your soulmate” AU.

Would I Lie To You? by LightLeadingMe

Summary:

It has been said and even written that true soulmates cannot lie to one another. They simply were unable to. Not even a small fib could be said to the person. Penelope began to resign herself to the fact that she'd never meet her soulmate, but then she ran (quite literally) into Colin Bridgerton.

Soulmarks by Seaowl

Summary:

Colin has found his soulmate, now he just has to find out who she is.

just let me adore you by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

Colin Bridgerton falls off his horse at age twenty-one and laughs. It’s a full-body laugh, bright and bold and gut-wrenching, as if his soul is finally free. Then he feels a burn across his left bicep, just beside his shoulder and when he inspects his skin, the outline of a detailed feather stares back at him. - Or, now that Colin knows Penelope is his soulmate, he vows to make her laugh in his presence so she can be his too. Or, the role reversal soulmate AU.

[liquidorcard]

Hey fam we're gunna inact in some sinful behavior again and get real for a sec here on the shitposting blog so TW: Discussion of substance abuse, mental health issues, SA, etc.

You may have noticed I took a bit of a break from posting for a bit. It wasn't entirely due to Lily's "junkie" rant here, but it was partially responsible.

A lot about Lily high key cheeses my biscuits, I've made that pretty clear. Lily and I have a . . . Strange amount in common in some regards. I'm a trans person myself, I come from a similar, shall we say, "dysfunctional home environment" Lily does. We're even both Canadian, close enough in age I grew up with a lot of the exact same regional-specific media she did. We've had some other life experiences in common.

With that said, Lily's almost like the evil funhouse mirror version of my life. I was sexually assaulted for the first time at basically the exact same age Courtney was. Lily reminds me very much of my first partner, who physically, emotionally and sexually abused me. Unlike Lily, I am from an actual multi-racial family and have had the somewhat unique experiences and gotten the somewhat unique perspective of being a white person partially influenced and organically adopted into more predominantly POC culture. I've had to come to terms with my own white privilege and the ways Western colonialism has influenced me on a level far more personal than it would be for someone from a more monoracial and monocultural family than mine. While also coming to terms with and accepting the ways my family has been judged and discriminated against for being so blended.

There's also just the fact that Lily seems to (I wonder if, on some level, intentionally) act like the alt-right caricature of a progressive leftist in the most performative way imaginable, while also clearly not actually being left-wing at all. My pet theory is that the only thing stopping Lily from going full Blaire White MAGA butt monkey is that her pride can't take it. Being treated like a useful idiot for the right to "prove" they're not bigots while treating her with open hostility in every other regard. So she's as "leftist" as she needs to be to get the 12 year olds she's trying to court on her side because they don't know any better. While being profoundly anti-labor, pro-capitalist. Even though the only reason why the alt-right hyper focus on identity politic bullshit like that is becayse it's a wedge issue that allows them to skirt around talking about actual policy.

There's also just the fact that someone can be so, confidently, shit-eating levels of wrong and stupid about the most asinine things. I actually work professionally in the fields Lily has decided her opinions are worth vomiting out into the ether. Fields people in general are way too comfortable speaking with authority on shit they know absolutely nothing about-- but Lily is for sure a special case.

Point is: I'm very used to Lily making me go into turbo big upsetti spaghetti mode. I've been aware of her for YEARS. I'm over it . . . Until I'm not.

I've alluded to it a few times already: I'm a recovered drug user, though I've struggled with general substance abuse and impulse control issues for longer. Particularly because of untreated mental health issues like C-PTSD, a dissociative disorder, gender dysphoria and ADHD. Particularly because of untreated physical health issues that just a few years ago almost killed me. Issues that caused me significant pain, mental distress, and slowly worsening disability since I was 11 years old. Went totally untreated until they came close to taking my life. It's no coincidence that I started stealing my parent's booze when I was around 12 or 13 years old.

The worst, ugliest, most humiliating aspects of yourself? Addiction will put them front and center. It will cause you to do things, act in ways, find out things about yourself you're never going to be able to unknow. You have to live with for the rest of your life.

You're aware of it-- the whole time. What a fucking creature you've become. How you are hurting the people closest to you. It's not fun. The whole time, you want to stop. But you can't. You don't know why you just can't control yourself, what you're supposed to do. You're afraid of asking for help out of fear of judgement or punishment. Drugs are mostly decriminalized in Canada and still, if someone just took access away from my poison of choice and sent me on my way with no further help--- I would have just walked into traffic.

The worst of my issues happened due to some absolutely insane levels of medical irresponsibility that I won't fully get into because they're too long to explain. But I will tell you that, already aware I had substance abuse issues, I *explicitly warned* the doctor who prescribed me the medication that I didn't feel I could be responsible to be put on anything addictive. She assured me it was not. Spoiler altert: it was addictive. A lot of addicts descent into rock bottom beginning with something they were prescribed.

Drug companies will put in these "anti-abuse" measures into otherwise addictive substances that it takes half a brain cell to circumvent. Just take my word for it.

I overdosed at least once, maybe twice on the drug I was originally prescribed. Alone. By some insane luck I survived both times without getting further medical treatment. But as I built up a tolerance what I was originally prescribed wasn't the *only thing* I ended up abusing in that period of my life. I was going to die if I didn't do something soon, and I knew it.

I was lucky. My sister drove two cities over after a night shift to my rescue and quite literally set me on the road to saving my life. My doctor was compassionate enough to allow me to get off of what I was originally addicted to at my own pace, and correctly identified I needed a medication overhaul to do so. My older brother made sure I wasn't dying of dehydration or starvation during my detox period and made sure to do the daily tasks I didn't have the mental capacity to do at that time aswell. Without them I wouldn't be here today.

NOT EVERY DRUG USER IS AS FORTUNATE AS ME, HOWEVER. And even then, recovery is not a straight line, or as simple as having certain substances kept away. It's a demon you'll be fighting the rest of your life, in many instances. Mine included. Part of getting off the harmful substances I was was getting a prescription to Adderall, as I was partially self-medicating for. Something my doctor still monitors me with to ensure I'm not falling back into bad habits with. Something Lily is CURRENTLY bitching about not being able to get a prescription for-- I wonder why, Lily.

I have now gone through THREE surgeries without painkillers. And in one particularly awful incident, was treated rather cruelly by the medical staff over refusing to take them. To quote, of all things, fucking Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo, "if you live with pain long enough, you learn to enjoy the taste." But nothing is like the nightmare of chemical dependence. Pain is immaterial to that kind of hell.

I know Lily is saying this bullshit just to vaguepost about Courtney, but I don't care. Fuck her. Fuck her for daring to judge me, and those like me. That she was that comfortable being this vile about the matter publically should give you a good indication as to how comfortable even other people are to talking down to addicts.

She wouldn't have survived the shit I went through. I dare her to try. She's way too much of a little piss baby to crawl her way out of that kind of suffering.

I know this is a meme page, but I refuse to be ashamed of talking about it. If anyone would like some more information about my experience or has questions as to why Lily's opinion on the matter is dogshit and vile, feel free to dm me or send me an ask. I'll make it clear why Lily is fucking scum for having the balls to say this publically. I'll make her regret it.

[maaarine]

The Troubling Trend in Teenage Sex (Peggy Orenstein, The New York Times, April 12 2024)

"For the past four years, Dr. Herbenick has been tracking the rapid rise of “rough sex” among college students, particularly sexual strangulation, or what is colloquially referred to as choking.

Nearly two-thirds of women in her most recent campus-representative survey of 5,000 students at an anonymized “major Midwestern university” said a partner had choked them during sex (one-third in their most recent encounter).

The rate of those women who said they were between the ages 12 and 17 the first time that happened had shot up to 40 percent from one in four. (…)

Twenty years ago, sexual asphyxiation appears to have been unusual among any demographic, let alone young people who were new to sex and iffy at communication.

That’s changed radically in a short time, with health consequences that parents, educators, medical professionals, sexual consent advocates and teens themselves urgently need to understand.

Sexual trends can spread quickly on campus and, to an extent, in every direction.

But, at least among straight kids, I’ve sometimes noticed a pattern: Those that involve basic physical gratification — like receiving oral sex in hookups — tend to favor men.

Those that might entail pain or submission, like choking, are generally more for women.

So, while undergrads of all genders and sexualities in Dr. Herbenick’s surveys report both choking and being choked, straight and bisexual young women are far more likely to have been the subjects of the behavior; the gap widens with greater occurrences.

(In a separate study, Dr. Herbenick and her colleagues found the behavior repeated across the United States, particularly for adults under 40, and not just among college students.)

Alcohol may well be involved, and while the act is often engaged in with a steady partner, a quarter of young women said partners they’d had sex with on the day they’d met also choked them.

Either way, most say that their partners never or only sometimes asked before grabbing their necks.

For many, there had been moments when they couldn’t breathe or speak, compromising the ability to withdraw consent, if they’d given it.

No wonder that, in a separate study by Dr. Herbenick, choking was among the most frequently listed sex acts young women said had scared them, reporting that it sometimes made them worry whether they’d survive.

Among girls and women I’ve spoken with, many did not want or like to be sexually strangled, though in an otherwise desired encounter they didn’t name it as assault.

Still, a sizable number were enthusiastic; they requested it. It is exciting to feel so vulnerable, a college junior explained.

The power dynamic turns her on; oxygen deprivation to the brain can trigger euphoria.

That same young woman, incidentally, had never climaxed with a partner: While the prevalence of choking has skyrocketed, rates of orgasm among young women have not increased, nor has the “orgasm gap” disappeared among heterosexual couples.

“It indicates they’re not doing other things to enhance female arousal or pleasure,” Dr. Herbenick said.

When, for instance, she asked one male student who said he choked his partner whether he’d ever tried using a vibrator instead, he recoiled. “Why would I do that?” he asked.

Perhaps, she responded, because it would be more likely to produce orgasm without risking, you know, death.

In my interviews, college students have seen male orgasm as a given; women’s is nice if it happens, but certainly not expected or necessarily prioritized (by either partner).

It makes sense, then, that fulfillment would be less the motivator for choking than appearing adventurous or kinky. Such performances don’t always feel good. (…)

Now consider that every year Dr. Herbenick has done her survey, the number of females reporting extreme effects from strangulation (neck swelling, loss of consciousness, losing control of urinary function) has crept up.

Among those who’ve been choked, the rate of becoming what students call “cloudy” — close to passing out, but not crossing the line — is now one in five, a huge proportion.

All of this indicates partners are pressing on necks longer and harder.

The physical, cognitive and psychological impacts of sexual choking are disturbing.

So is the idea that at a time when women’s social, economic, educational and political power are in ascent (even if some of those rights may be in jeopardy), when #MeToo has made progress against harassment and assault, there has been the popularization of a sex act that can damage our brains, impair intellectual functioning, undermine mental health, even kill us.

Nonfatal strangulation, one of the most significant indicators that a man will murder his female partner (strangulation is also one of the most common methods used for doing so), has somehow been eroticized and made consensual, at least consensual enough.

Yet, the outcomes are largely the same: Women’s brains and bodies don’t distinguish whether they are being harmed out of hate or out of love."

[dustdeepsea]

Writer Interview

Tagged by @my-favourite-zhent nearly 3 weeks ago and I've entirely missed the wave.

I've enjoyed reading so many interesting ones by my mutuals! Tagging (only if you're keen) @graysparrowao3 @coreene @say-lene @luvwich @grossestjay —and if I've missed your interview somehow, tag me in the comments!

Q&A after the cut—

When did you start writing?

I wrote my first fanwork at age 12. It was self-insert fanfiction with me and 2 of my friends in the Slayers anime universe, which meant it was several comedic sketches strung together with with lots of actions denoted by asterisks and emoticons. You know the ones ^_^ ^____^ @_@ T_T *slaps you gently with a trout*

We printed it out on someone's home printer and bound copies in plastic school folders with a two-hole punch. I've lost the original file ages ago, but I would love to read it again.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

When I was younger, I actively sought out "difficult stories" because I wanted to experience things beyond my day to day life. I read Nabokov at 16 because everyone kept saying Lolita was a dangerous book. I also read a lot of Chuck Palahniuk and Bret Easton Ellis without really understanding them.

My pretentiousness definitely peaked in my university days. My dating profile at the time listed: Herman Hesse, Kazuo Ishiguro and Mikhail Bulgakov.

Now that I'm older, I read and write stories primarily to make myself happy.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I'm not remotely at the level where I get compared to any published writers.

My favourite contemporary writer is David Mitchell (of Cloud Atlas fame), and my favourite book by him is The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet.

My favourite "classic" novel is The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I type at my desk, in a study shared with my partner. Sometimes if the scene is particularly spicy or they are gaming too loudly, I take the laptop to the living room.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Bouncing plot bunnies off others on Discord, talking a walk or a long train ride, playing an immersive video game and rotating characters in my head for hours afterwards.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

According to my lovely readers:

"Romantic and sweaty"; "two silly sausages frying in a pan" (thanks to my long time beta-reader @littleplasticrat)

"Purity, temperance, glimpse of [the] ability for real love / real forgiveness" (thank you @tellmeallaboutit!)

These did surprise me a bit when they were first pointed out but it makes sense—I've been accidentally writing Regency romances and repressed idiots in love without setting out to do so explicitly.

What is your reason for writing?

I put aside hobbies for many years because of my work (no matter what advertisers want you to believe—doomscrolling is not a hobby). Started doing more creative things during my sabbatical last year, and writing was one of the things that saved my broken corpo soul.

Nowadays I'm really into bread making and cooking in general. I'm trying to balance work and creative pursuits and I'm much happier overall.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Any and all comments are received with love <3 <3 <3 I really enjoy it when people let me know what lines really resonated with them or point out motifs I'd snuck in.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Friendly and approachable! Not entirely hyperfixated on That One NPC from a Video Game with Five Lines (that one might be harder now...!)

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

A fairly broad vocabulary, including anachronisms, which is useful for fantasy story settings. Writing characters who are actively lying to themselves (thinking one thing and saying/doing another).

My writing tends to be on the more contemplative side and a bit sadder and slower paced, so if you enjoy A Great Deal of Yearning along with your smut, then it would appeal to you :)

How do you feel about your own writing?

I'm pretty happy with it! I write very, very slowly, with constant edits as I go, and would probably starve if I ever had to rely on my fiction writing to be paid. Luckily, I get to do this as a hobby.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I write for myself, but I am also super blessed to have a very small but vocal audience that I can interact with directly. I guess my best advice is: Write for yourself and your 10 friends who want to read your hand-bound home-printed self-insert fanfic <3

[suckmybearings]

ooc —

Thank you to all of my current mutuals who've reached out through my interest checker (and the little discord call), and I continue to welcome those who haven't done so, but someday may want to! Something came up not that long ago, when I inadvertently tripped a mutual's RSD (god, I'm still very sorry for it). More than ever, I feel that I need to give a little bit of IRL info.

I am, first and foremost, a workaholic. Please, please, please understand this. I work 3rd Shift (graveyard shift hours). I get up at 8:20PM, clock in at 10:30PM, and then clock out at 6:30AM, five days a week. This schedule, though, is new. Before this, for two months, I was straddling 3rd Shift (4:00AM) and 1st Shift (12:00PM) to help cover for another coworker while she was out for maternity leave. Even though I was supposed to leave at 12PM, I wouldn't actually clock out until 4-6PM every day for two months, because there's just so much to do. On top of this, I'm cross-trained in different departments; I keep all four departments in my room, across all three shifts, on the same page of communication involving management, the quality team, and other departments not in the room; I'm available when someone has a question or needs direction; I am in a consistent state of training someone into my primary department. (And when my factory manager is feeling extra generous, he'll 'volunteer' me for company-paid business courses when they crop up, so I have to split my time away from factory production to be in those classes.) It is only because I've taken on the responsibility, two weeks ago, of picking up a coworker and then dropping her off after work that I've been able to clock out on time (because I have no choice now lol). And even though I am working strictly 8hrs now, I feel more exhausted than ever. Maybe my body is trying to catch up on all the lost sleep and stress? I don't know. When I get home, I have about a 10-20min window before I'm nodding off at the computer. My only real free time is on the weekend (if I'm not volunteering to work a Saturday), but I still have responsibilities. I have a wonderful, patient, and (all things considered) forgiving man who takes care of me, our cat, and our apartment, and I try to spend time with him as much as I can. I also have my 10-year-long friend and writing partner, Katie, over at in @deceitfulcharmer. We've been developing, plotting, writing a massive original scifi/romance story together for years, and we've only really started roleplaying them this year(?), so that story will always take priority for me; it's our baby. <3 And then to top it all off: I am deeply introverted and private, and so my batteries for interacting directly with people are usually depleted before I ever get back from work. With that all being said— I'm here and I want to be here. I want to interact and roleplay Wheeljack, a muse that I've been in love with since I first watched TFP in 2012. (Factoid, it was TFP that even introduced me to the Tumblr roleplaying scene itself. And even though I loved Wheeljack, I came into the community as Megatronus/Megatron.) I explained to Katie that I have never played such a dauntingly sociable, go-getter muse like this, lol. Even when I'm exhausted and stressed, it doesn't influence him or his moods. He's literally just, "You done over there? Good. Let's go." 'Cause he's got people to see, people to talk to; he's not going to be held up by my shit. TL;DR Did you send Wheeljack an ask or prompt for a meme? Did you message me in Tumblr DM? Have you been dropping messages in our Discord? Did you create a starter for Wheeljack because I liked your starter call? Have you been seeing me active through Wheeljack or posting music/wreckerisms? Does it show me online in Discord? But no response from me to you? I promise that I've seen it; I promise that I have it drafted. ;-; I'm just an overworked, exhausted scumbag who has never had such an outgoing muse that has simultaneously attracted so many people to him. It's just going to be slow. So damn slow. But I will get to you. <3

[dragon-creates]

Sorry Bowser, But Your Fiancé Is In Another Castle

Read on AO3

Hello!!! Its been a while since I published anything, things in life have just been hectic like college and family, and I'm also working on some multichapter fics that I'm planning on publishing soon. But I wanted to write this for my birthday as my gift to all of you. Today I officially turn 20 years old and I wanted to give this fic to you guys as a thank you for this year. 

@angelxd-3303 @baggedbees @heythereyoucutie @angelfangs-666 @bowserslittleprincess @tapetmal @omgmax221 @vampireopossum @liabloodx @chrissymorgan9700 @rottmnt23lover @beetlegoose01 @rivthescetch @rosiethedragongeek @spazzitazz @cool-taya @pumkinqueen @kettlepotmadness @oh-my-gosh-its-j0sh @tuna-jsgross @tanookileaves @starvingcritter @sirdeath41412 @trianna-phoenix @that-one-fangirl123 @hiimyourmom @1st-lil-poet @randompostsyayy @pikagirl18 @madeofmanyfandoms @timberwolfofthelostforest @theluckycollectorcolorposts @moonetta-art @mysweetloveismyjohn @i1lyidkstupid @roze-realm @danger-ghost @meep-13 @daisysrose @mefiman @zomboi-intel @thegayjokester @hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard @wogwoman

Whether you started following me for mario bros/bowuigi content or for another fandom entirely, I wanted to dedicate this birthday fic to all of you. (I’m so sorry if I didn’t mention you I couldn’t get you all in). If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have had this surge of creativity for the past year, I've got a few fics still in progress but after some time I hope ya'll will stick around for what I have in store. So that being said, even though its my birthday, this if a gift that I personally want to give from me to you. I hope ya'll like it and please stay safe xx.

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Congratulations! If you have received this invitation, that means that you have been invited to the wedding of King Bowser and King Consort Luigi! The wedding will take place at the Darklands castle 11th of June at 12:00PM sharp. Wear your best formal attire, a gift for the happy new couple and a smile. Hope to see you there!

King Boo let out an inhuman screech as he ripped up the letter. One of his boos had been scavenging secretly across the lands, finding a scattered invitation to the royal wedding and rushing back to give it to their king.

The poltergeist was fuming! Not only did his former associate double cross him and partner up with the Mushroom Kingdom to defend the rest of the lands from the ghost’s terror, but King Bowser was marrying his arch nemesis of all people, Luigi!

It didn’t seem that long ago when Bowser was chasing after the poofy pink Princess Peach, going so far to steal the superstar in order to do so. If it weren’t for the arrival of those pesky colourful humans did things start going haywire. Ever since Bowser was defeated by the red plumber and his younger brother, the koopa couldn’t stop thinking about the latter. Whenever King Boo visited Bowser’s realm, he would drone on and on about that stupid green man. First, he complained about how a low-life prisoner managed to defeat him and stop the star-crossed love between him and his ‘Peaches’, then it turned into begrudging admiration for the human (“I never thought someone so small could pack such a punch,” he remembered Bowser saying), and then the sickening realisation of Bowser realising his feelings for the green plumber had King Boo about to lose his final straw.

He was going to make Bowser realise how pathetic that human was and make him go back to his scheming ways! And so, he devised a plan, he was going to lead Luigi hear with the false pretence of him winning a mansion, trap his brother in a painting to lure Luigi to his doom, have his minions scare the living daylights out of him and trap him as well! Once that would happen, he was going to show Bowser the painting, make him realise how pathetic the human was and the two would return to world domination! (He had even arranged for a large model of the koopa king to frighten the little plumber).

However, his plans were foiled by a pesky little scientist, going by the name of Doctor E. Gadd. Apparently, he saved Luigi with the help of some type of vacuum that was able to suck up his boos and ghosts, leading to the two humans partnering up and the plumber taking down the ghostly king himself.

King Boo had never been so humiliated in all his life! And worst of all, after he managed to escape, it only caused Bowser to fawn over the human even more. Soon, Bowser would ease up on his plans to take over the Mushroom Kingdom and woo Princess Peach, instead, focusing on creating a steady friendship with the little green man. Of course, it didn’t go so well at first – the first meeting was Bowser imprisoning Luigi over lava after all – but over time, they started meeting in secret, going to meadows that the plumber had found due to his love of gardening, Luigi sending little treats to the koopa king, spending time with Bowser Jr and the koopalings, even going as far to pretending to be ‘kidnapped’ by Bowser so that he would be able to derail Mario from finding out about the two.

Eventually, King Boo tried his mansion plan again, twice actually! The first time was during the Dark Moon eclipse, forcing the ghosts E. Gadd had befriended to do King Boo’s bidding, the other was when he had joined forces with Helen Gravely and her haunted hotel. Yet again though, Luigi managed to foil both plans, each one of them ending up with King Boo captured.

When King Boo managed to escape again, he expected Bowser to at least be nonchalant about his intentions with capturing Luigi. However, when he arrived at the Darklands and saw Luigi there with the koopa king, all the poltergeist could see was red at this pesky plumber. He was going to attack the human and finish him once and for all, until he was met face first with a scaly fist and plummeted against one of Bowser’s stone statues of himself. When he gathered himself, he saw that the large koopa was on all fours, fangs bared and growling with smoke coming out of his nostrils and a protective arm around Luigi – who was trembling on the ground while clutching the king’s arm in fright.

King Boo had seen Bowser angry plenty of times before, but this, this was something he had never seen before. It was almost primal, animalistic and was never this reactive when it came to Peach. With a snarl, Bowser only said two words so quietly yet held nothing but danger. “Get out.”

That was all King Boo needed to hear to immediately flee the scene. Eventually, he learnt that during his imprisonment in E. Gadd’s lab, Bowser had been working on forming an alliance with the Mushroom Kingdom, going so far as to signing a peace treaty. Both he and Luigi had even revealed their relationship to the Princess and Mario, though while sceptical, were still accepting to the two as a couple.

And now here he was, with a ripped-up letter and a wedding on the horizon. How could Bowser do this to him?! He was King Bowser, lord of all things evil and set anyone ablaze if they ever tried to tell him what to do! And he was King Boo, the tyrannical ghost king ready to frighten the literal life out of anyone! Together, they could’ve taken over the remaining puny kingdoms and strike terror into anyone who opposed them. Now, Bowser was kissing the boots of a stupid plumber and about to marry him as well! This would not do at all.

“Ready my airships!” he screamed at one of his subjects, jumping at the sudden noise, “I want my armies to be ready by the date of the royal wedding!”

“But sire,” the smaller boo spoke up quietly, “You ripped up the letter, it had the date on it.”

“Does that look like my problem?!” he seethed at the minion, who quickly shook his head, “Then go find it out for yourself, and don’t come back until my armies and ships are ready to leave!”

“Yes, my king,” the boo bowed and fazed through one of the walls.

King Boo grumbled under his breath, an evil sneer creeping onto his face. If Bowser wanted to pretend to be the good guy, fine, he’ll treat him like the good guy alright. And he had just the plan to do so.

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“Are you feeling okay Babbo?” Junior asked, letting out a small purr as he uncurled himself from Luigi’s lap to look at his soon-to-be stepdad.

“Huh?” Luigi broke out of his trance, meeting Junior’s worried look, “Oh, I’m fine baby, just pre-wedding nerves.”

“Don’t worry, Papa loves you so much to the point its grossing everyone out!” The smallest koopaling buried his face into Luigi’s neck, “Trust me, nothing is gonna stop him from marrying you today! He’d even marry you while dressed like that!”

“Junior, I’m not even ready yet,” Luigi chuckled. The human was wearing a fluffy baby blue robe as he waited for Peach, Daisy, Rosalina and his brother to get back with make-up, his wedding dress and food, to make sure he had something to eat before the banquet later.

“Exactly!” Junior chortled, “Papa was never this way with Peach, he looks at you like you’re a million superstars! Everything will be fine Dad, I promise!”

“Aw, thanks ragazzino,” Luigi cooed, hugging his stepson tightly before Luigi’s bedroom door opened and in came Mario, Polterpup and the princesses, “Junior here was making sure that I wasn’t feeling nervous before the wedding.”

“Aw, buddy!” Mario grinned and ruffled his nephew’s hair, who giggled at his uncle’s antics.

“Junior, could you go check on your father please?” Peach suggested, “I have the feeling he might also need one of your pep talks, you’ll also need to get ready as well. Take Polterpup as well, Kamek told me that he wanted to practice walking down the aisle with the rings one last time.”

“Okay Aunt Peach, come on Polterpup,” Junior jumped off Luigi’s lap and make his way out with the pooch by his side, shutting the door behind him.

Mario turned to his younger brother, “You doing okay Lu?”

“Yeah,” Luigi nodded, “Just a little nervous, you know?”

“Do you think you’re able to eat something?” Mario asked.

“Yeah, I think I’m able to,” Luigi gave his big brother a small smile.

“I hope so,” Daisy spoke up, “Cause your mom just gave us a buttload of pizza and man does it smell good!”

As soon as she placed the bags down, Luigi caught a whiff of the familiar homemade smell of his mother’s pizza and his stomach began to growl.

“Your mother is very kind Luigi,” Rosalina said, taking a slice for herself, “Though, I will admit, she did seem quite perplexed when Daisy and I had to correct her when she assumed we were…” her hand covered her mouth as she tried to hold back a laugh, “friends.”

“Oh no!” Luigi started to laugh as well as Peach, Daisy and Mario, clutching their stomachs at the thought of his poor mother’s confused face, “Poor ma!”

“I know!” Daisy cackled, “And the moment she realised she started apologizing for assuming and I was trying so hard not to burst, the poor woman!”

“Now, now Daisy darling,” Rosalina put her hand on her partner’s shoulder, “This is not the time to lose our composure over a silly mistake.”

Daisy let out another breathy giggle and placed her hand over Rosalina’s, “You’re right Rosa, though you have to admit, I was doing a much better job at controlling myself than you.”

The tall blonde raised an eyebrow at the shorter brunette, “Oh is that so?”

“Uh, yeah!” Daisy smirked, placing her hands on her hips, “You couldn’t stop trembling from trying to keep yourself together until you let out the loudest snort I ever heard!”

Rosalina rolled her eyes fondly, tucking a lock of Daisy’s hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. “If that’s what makes you feel better, beloved,” she nuzzled her nose against her girlfriend’s, secretly relishing the way her cheeks flamed.

Daisy pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, “That’s cheating.”

“Alright lovebirds,” Peach made her way over to the other two princesses, “How about we focus on our groom here and making sure he’s prepared for his wedding.”

Daisy lit up at that, “Hell yeah!”

“I agree, we should keep our priorities in order,” Rosalina nodded.

Mario gripped his younger brother’s shoulders, “What do you say Lu? Food first then the make-up and dress?”

“Yeah,” Luigi leaned into Mario’s touch, “That sounds great.”

“Alright!” Peach cheered, “Strap yourselves in ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna make a magical wedding!”

Everyone seemed to light up at Peach’s words. Once they pizzas were devoured, Mario had gone behind a divider to put on his tuxedo while the princesses focused on Luigi’s make-up, each of them having a turn before letting the other take over so they could put their own make-up on. It was a simple look they went for, white eyeshadow that held a little bit of sparkle, a soft pink blush and a peach coloured and flavoured lip gloss (it had belonged to the princess of that same name).

Once Mario was changed, the girls went behind the divider to change into their bridesmaids’ dresses while the older brother assisted Luigi with his gown.

The princesses emerged a while later wearing similar yet different dresses. Each dress had the same glittering tulle fabric, sweetheart neckline and full-length pleated skirt, the only different being the colours and sleeves. They all had the princesses’ respective royal colours, pink, yellow and blue, while Peach had short puff sleeves, Rosalina had off -the-shoulder ones that ended at the start of her wrists and Daisy wore no sleeves at all.

The girls gasped when they saw Luigi in his white wedding dress for the first time. It had a sheer blouse with little buttons leading from the collar to the bodice on top, which had a straight neckline and was embroidered with glittering vines, starting from the top of the neckline and ending at the top of a puffy, shimmering ballgown skirt. It was all topped off with a silver, sparkly tiara rested on the top of his head.

“Oh Luigi!” Peach brought her hands to her mouth, holding back tears, “You look-”

“-You look smoking baby!” Daisy grinned, bumping her hips against his as Luigi smiled bashfully.

“I agree with Daisy,” Rosalina nodded, taking her girlfriend’s hand into her own, “You look wonderful Luigi.”

Luigi rubbed his hands nervously, “Thank you everyone,” Luigi sniffed, Mario gently wiped the tear away so it wouldn’t ruin his make-up. Luigi let out a heavy sigh, “I think my nerves are acting up again.”

“Everything is gonna be fine Lu,” Mario reassured him, wrapping an arm around his younger brother and rubbed his back, “The moment Bowser sees you, he’s probably propose a thousand more times!”

That made Luigi laugh a little bit, some of his tension starting to relieve.

“Your brother is right Luigi,” Rosalina took a step towards him, “I’ve seen how Bowser looks at you and trust me when I say that I know how he feels about you since…I feel the same way with someone else.” Rosalina turned her head towards her girlfriend, Daisy squeezing the blonde’s hand as her smile widened.

“Also,” Peach started, “The big fella hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you ever since the two of you met, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger and I’m dying to see the look on his face when he sees you in that dress.”

“Hey, maybe I should wear a dress when we get married?” Mario suggested.

Peach squealed at her fiancé, “Yes! You would look so adorable in a dress! We would match and-!”

“-Okay heteroes, slow down,” Daisy interjected, shaking her head fondly at the pink princess and her plumber, “This day isn’t about you, let’s put our focus back on our groom here.”

“Well, what about you Daisy,” Luigi smirked at his friend, “You and Rosalina have been together for quite a while, when are you two getting hitched?”

Daisy spluttered and gasped while Rosalina’s face went as red as a tomato and hide her face in her hands at Luigi’s cheeky question. “H-hey! We haven’t- well we have talked but- It’s none of your business Luigi!” Daisy pouted, stomping over to her girlfriend, and burying her head in the blonde’s chest as Rosalina wrapped her arms around the shorter princess and hid her face in Daisy’s brown hair.

Peach and Mario absolutely lost it at what Luigi said, the latter slapping his knee as he and Peach howled with laughter. “Dang bro!” Mario wiped a tear from his eye, “You really have been spending quite some time with Bowser, haven’t you?!”

Luigi smiled softly, his mind drifting to the koopa, “Yeah…and today marks the start of a new life with him.”

Mario took his brother’s hand, “It’s almost time to go out soon, you ready?”

“Yeah,” Luigi nodded, “I really am.”

Peach wrapped her arms around her soon to be brother-in-law, “We’re so happy for you Luigi. And if you’re still feeling nervous, something tells me that Bowser also just as nervous as you are.”

“What? No way,” Luigi retorted with a snort, “I’ll bet you that Bowser isn’t freaking out right now.”

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“I am totally freaking out right now!” Bowser hissed through clenched teeth. The wedding was taking place at the top of the volcano inhabiting Bowser’s floating castle. The seats were flooded with members of each kingdom – including his own subjects, the Mushroom Kingdom’s, Sarasaland’s, the Luma’s, the Jungle Kingdom, The Penguin Kingdom and Luigi’s family as well (Luigi’s mother, while sweet, still scared the life out of Bowser).

The king of the koopa’s was praying to whatever god was out there that he wasn’t sweating through his three-piece-suit. He wore a black blazer and trousers with accents on the cuffs of both that were shaped and coloured like fire. Underneath the blazer was a red blouse and covering his feet were a pair of shiny coal boots. His hair was swooped to the side and had decorated his eyes with eyeliner to make them pop out more. Now he really hoped he wasn’t sweating right now as he thought about that make-up.

“You’re gonna be fine Papa,” Junior piped up, his little ‘best man’ standing by his side, “Babbo was worrying about the same thing earlier, he wants to marry you as much as you want to marry him.”

“But he’s not here yet!” He whispered to his son, “Why’s he not here yet? Is he hurt? Did he change his mind and realise that I’m not good enough for him?!”

“If I may sire?” Kamek said, standing next to his surrogate son to officiate the wedding, “The reason he’s not here yet is because its not time for him to walk down the aisle, we still have five minutes before the ceremony starts. Also, that young man is one of the sweetest humans that I have ever met in my entire life, his dedication to the love that you to share is the strongest that I’ve ever seen. I find it impossible that he has changed his mind about his decision to marry you.”

Bowser sighed, “You’re right Kamek, you’re right. I know Luigi would never do that. Its just…I love him so much; I don’t ever want to lose him or have anything happen to him.”

Kamek smiled, “I’m aware sire and I think what you two have is wonderful. Now straighten your back, wipe that sweat off your brow and pull yourself together.”

“I can’t help that I’m sweating!” Bowser retorted, wiping the back of his head against his forehead, “Why is it so damn hot!”

“Dad, we literally live inside a volcano, of course its hot,” Junior deadpanned, “Also, you’ve been in heat hotter than this and literally never said a word!”

Bowser’s eyes widened, “Oh.”

It was when the strings from the wedding band’s instruments began to pluck did Bowser take Kamek’s advice, fixing himself up as he looked towards the doors that Luigi would be walking out of soon. The subjects from each kingdom and Luigi’s family turned as to the doors as well (Luigi’s niece had also began recording everything on their phone). The princesses walked out first in a triangle formation, making their way to the end of the aisle as they stood to the side where Luigi would be soon. Peach nodded respectfully to Bowser, the latter nodding back knowing that the pink princess was happy that this wedding would have her or anyone else be forced into marrying the koopa king. Then it was Polterpup’s turn, the ghostly dog prancing down with a red bow around his neck as he carried a pillow with the rings to the end of the aisle.

Once she made her way to her spot, the strings of the band softened. Bowser’s stomach churned, looking to the ground as he shuffled his feet nervously. It was only when he heard gasps from the crowd, did he finally look up. His jaw dropped. With his arm linked with his older brother’s to give him away, Luigi started walking down the aisle. He was so beautiful, to the way his eyes sparkled with the skirt of his dress, his blush blossoming against his cheeks and the smile he gave Bowser as he got closer and closer to him.

All of Bowser’s doubts went away as he returned the smile to his soon-to-be-husband. Everything was going to be fine; he was going to get married to the most amazing man he ever met and be the happiest he had ever been in his life.

He held his hands out to Luigi, who shared one more look with his older brother. Mario nodded, taking Luigi’s small hands into Bowser’s as he went over to join Peach. Bowser tightened his grip on his fiancé’s hands ever so gently as Luigi’s smile turned watery, joy talking over the tiny human. It seemed to be infecting Bowser as well, for the same look started to appear on his face as well.

It was perfect.

Kamek cleared his throat, “Dearly belove-haackkkk!!!!!”

Everyone gasped as a rock collided to the magikoopa’s back, sending him to the ground unconscious. Bowser wanted to go check on him, but the roaring of an airship had him whipping his head round to find the culprit who did this. A growl left his throat as he found out who’s airship this was once he saw the emblem on the front.

“King Boo,” Luigi whimpered.

Bowser could feel his fiancé trembling, stepping in front of him to protect him from the boos and ghosts starting to pour out of the ship and spooking some of the guests in their seats. Polterpup growled at the invaders who had frightened his master plenty of times before.

A wicked cackle echoed throughout the air, making everyone jump as King Boo appeared in front of Bowser and Luigi. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the happy couple!” he grinned maliciously, “I sure hope I didn’t ruin anything!”

“You weren’t wanted here Boo!” Bowser snarled at the poltergeist, “Leave while you can before you find out if you’re able to die twice!”

King Boo let out a fake, melodramatic gasp, placing his hand to his mouth as though he were offended, “Now Bowser, is that really any way to greet an old friend? I’m simply here to offer my congratulations, or rather, my condolences. After all, since your ‘Peaches’ was already snatched up by Mario over here, you’d have to go for leftovers instead.”

The disrespectful words that King Boo had for Bowser’s soon-to-be-husband was enough to infuriate Bowser. He swiped his claws at the ghost, sending King Boo back a few feet before crouching onto all fours in front of his fiancé in a protective stance, breath heaving with soft but threatening growls and a dangerous glint in his eyes and King Boo dared to come closer. “If you say one more word about my fiancé, I will make you regret every single time you’ve lured him to your mansions!”

“My, my!” King Boo drawled, a smirk on satisfaction creeping onto his pale – lack of – complexion, “Aren’t we defensive today?! I was merely stating the truth!”

“Then its clear that you have no idea what the truth is actually!” Bowser spat at him, “I love Luigi more than you can even comprehend, because of him I was able to be inspired to become better koopa and leader! Something that no one can say about you!”

King Boo grit his teeth and growled at that latest remark, when he saw that a few of his own subjects were giggling at Bowser’s words he sent them a cold glare, reminding them of their place. “At least I haven’t become soft enough to not expect an attack,” he turned to his boos, “GET THEM!”

In a flash, the boo’s and the koopa were immediately at each other’s throats. The toads were trying to lead the guests and Junior back into the castle to avoid them getting hurt, Rosalina had pulled out her hidden wand from her sleeve and casting spells to avoid the boo’s attacks, Daisy wasn’t hesitating to punch and kick as hard as she could and had some colourful language each time a boo tried to land a hit on her before she retaliated – if the boo’s didn’t know not to mess with her before then they did now -, Mario and Peach were working together, each of them using and ice and fire flower respectively to try and form a wall of heat and cold to guard Luigi from King Boo. As for the couple, Bowser remained on all fours, blasting fire from his throat every time King Boo tried to take even an inch towards Luigi.

Luigi’s eyes darted around the place in panic, from his fiancé to his brother, to the princesses and King Boo as well. Polterpup was beside him as a source of comfort to prevent him from further spiralling. Is this why E. Gadd hadn’t shown up to the wedding? After all the old scientist expressed nothing but joy at his surrogate son getting married, did King Boo do something to make sure he didn’t intervene with his plans?! If only he had his Poltergust with him, instead of standing around doing nothing. He did want to help but his dress would prevent him from landing any attacks and he had the feeling that everyone was a bit more protective over him due to the sudden turn of events.

When things seemed like it couldn’t get any worse, the boom of a canon made Luigi’s blood run cold. Along the side of King Boo’s ship were cannons firing towards the alter, hitting close to everyone and sending them flying a few feet and landing on their sides.

Luigi got up from his spot after getting hit, the bottom hem of his skirt singed, his ears were ringing and his head was pounding. Looking up and seeing that Bowser was on the ground and good length away from him, the koopa king was trying to get up but put too much weight on an injured arm and collapsed to the ground again.

Forgetting the screaming headache, Luigi tried to rush to Bowser, but was snatched up by two boos. He felt himself being lifted from the ground, letting out a panicked cry as he was led away to King Boo’s ship.

The poltergeist grinned maliciously; everything was going according to plan. With a whistle, the rest of his boos stopped attacking and trailed back onto the ship.

After standing up and regaining his bearing, Bowser’s immediate instinct was to look for Luigi. His eyes widened when he couldn’t see his fiancé anywhere, only for his heart to plummet to the pit of his stomach when he finally saw Luigi being hauled away onto the ship.

“BOWSER!” Luigi cried out for him.

Injured arm be damned, Bowser was on all fours again, trying to chase after the ship and boos, “LUIGI!”

But it was too late, Luigi was gone and in King Boo’s grasp.

Everyone else was starting to come to, Mario rubbing his chest where he got hit before rushing to Peach and helping her to her feet. Rosalina had sat up from where she was sitting, cradling a barely lucid Daisy in her lap as the brunette tried to keep her eyes open. Even Kamek, who had remained from where he was hit, was finally waking up.

“Why does this always happen to me at weddings?” the magikoopa grumbled. However, his ceased with his mumbling when he saw his son pacing around on all fours, limping on his front left arm. “Bowser! What happened?! Here now let me see that arm!”

When Kamek when to touch his arm, the king whirled round and snarled at the new unknown threat, only to whimper with guilt when he saw that it was only his father figure trying to help. “Don’t worry, I know you’re not in the right headspace at the moment,” Kamek soothed the panicked koopa, “Just let me heal that arm of yours before it gets any worse. While I do that could somebody please tell me what on earth happened here!”

“It was King Boo,” Rosalina spoke up, still cradling Daisy in her arms as she stood up, “It seems as though he decided to invite himself last minute and left quite a…mess, to say the least.” The space princess grimaced as she looked around at the exploded seats, splattered wedding cake and singes in the walls as well.

“Wait a minute,” Mario looked around, realisation seeping in, “Did he take Luigi?!”

“I should’ve stopped him,” Bowser murmured as Kamek finished his healing spell, “I’m supposed to be stronger than this.”

“Now that is just nonsense!” Kamek spluttered, “King Boo is nothing but an unhappy overgrown marshmallow who thrives upon the misery of others who earn their happiness through kindness and courage. None of this is your fault.”

“You don’t understand,” Bowser shook his head, “When I proposed to Luigi I made a promise to him, his family and Mario that no matter what I would always protect him and love him as selflessly as possible, and I failed him before we could even exchange vows,” he turned to Mario, “I’m so sorry I broke my promise.”

“Hey!” Mario frowned, “I might not have understood you and Luigi at first, but the more I saw you too together, the more I realised who you truly are underneath that shell of yours. Luigi might not have changed you, but he did inspire you to become the version of yourself that you wanted to be. You loving Luigi made me see just how far you’ve come, Kamek’s right, its not your fault that King Boo is a selfish prick!”

“Mario!” Peach gasped.

Mario chuckled before turning back to the koopa, “You promised to keep Luigi safe and to love him selflessly, not for King Boo to kidnap him. If you really wanna keep your promise, we’re gonna get our shit together, storm King Boo’s castle and get my brother back!”

“Now that is something I can definitely agree on,” Kamek smiled, who had used his healing spell on everyone and was moving onto Daisy. The second he waved his wand, Daisy jumped out of her girlfriend’s arms, picked up a dropped sword from the ground and raised it above her head.

“LET’S KICK SOME BLOODY BOO ARSE” She screeched.

“Daisy,” Rosalina shook her head fondly at the brunette.

Bowser smiled softly, he took in his new family, the family he would be marrying into. He never thought he could be this happy, or that he was allowed to be this happy. But ever since meeting Luigi, he found himself confronting the worst parts of himself that he had avoiding for so long, denying that he was in the wrong. But the more he learned about the brothers’ adventures, about the evils that were worse than him, including Luigi’s trips to King Boo’s mansions, he knew that he wanted to be better than that. It took a lot of trial and error, but it was worth. He became a better ruler, a kinder soul, a gentle lover. All of that was thanks to Luigi.

Bowser finally stood to his full height, rolling his shoulders back and letting a few bones crack. “Let’s make King Boo pay.”

Everyone grinned at one another, plans already formulating in their heads on how to get Luigi back. “We can’t just waltz right in there with nothing, especially without a change of clothes,” she glanced down at her ruined dress, pouting at the state.

“We’ll also need someone who’s dealt with boos before,” Mario agreed.

“Then its decided,” Kamek spoke up, “After a change of clothes, we’ll head straight to E. Gadd and get his help. If King Boo has done something to him, we’ll have to act fast.”

.

.

.

Luigi sighed as he tried to unlock the door again. Once they arrived at King Boo’s castle, the mad ruler shoved him into an empty bedroom and locked the door behind him. He had to admit, the room was hauntingly beautiful, from the grey and black walls to the luxurious queen-sized canopy bed to the sparkling chandelier, it was a sceptical to look at. The cons however were the locked door and the lack of windows, reminding Luigi that he was still a prisoner.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only that it was after the hundredth time of trying to unlock the door did, he give his tired hands a break. He kicked off his heels and collapsed onto the bed, he just wanted to go home. He wanted to hear his brother’s awful jokes, his family nagging at his to eat, to have tea with the princesses, play video games with Junior and snuggle up in Bowser’s arms as the koopa played the piano for him. Why was King Boo always trying to ruin things for him?! Could he not have one day where the ghostly king would leave him be?

Suddenly, a boo was floating through the wall, making Luigi let out a strangled gasp as he backed up on the bed, pressing his bed against the pillows. “Now, now dear boy there’s no need to panic,” the boo reassured him, “My name is Bingley, I’m only here to help with your fitting.”

“My what?”

“Your fitting, by King Boo’s orders,” Bingley informed him.

Luigi shook his head in disbelief, “Wait, wait, wait, why would King Boo-?”

“Please young sir, the master is already upset and anymore delays would only increase his anger,” Bingley pleaded with him and was over to Luigi in an instant, pulling him off the bed and in front of a mirror. In a flash, the boo had managed to pull out a roll of measuring tape, measure out each length of Luigi’s limbs and floated out the room again. Luigi only had a moment to pull himself together before Bingley floated back into the room with a black gown in his arms. “For you good sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to continue with preparations, I’ll leave you to get changed.”

“Wait I-!” Luigi called out, but to no avail, the boo was gone again. With a sigh, he held up the gown. It seemed nice enough, plus he was in enemy territory so refusing the garment could make things worse.

He carefully stripped off his white dress, laying it gently on the bed before pulling on the black one. Once he was complete, he looked at himself in the mirror. The new dress he wore consisted of a tight-laced over-bust corset with a poofy bertha across his collarbones and shoulders, lace bell sleeves that drooped over his wrists, a ruffled high-low skirt that trailed at the back and exposed his legs, lacey black tights that hugged his curved thighs generously and a pair of black heels were left by the side of his bed for him to complete his look.

Luigi flushed at the new look, while he loved wearing dresses and gowns along with his regular shirts and slacks, this was a style that he had never thought about trying before so he certainly wasn’t used to how this new outfit looked on him. It was nice but it left him blushing at the thought of walking out of this room wearing it.

Just as he was slipping on his heels, Bingley floated through the walls again, marvelling his work, “Oh marvellous, you look simply marvellous! I must say this is my best work yet. Now all we need is the veil and the look will be complete.”

“Veil!” Luigi spluttered, “Why do I need a veil?!”

“Isn’t it obvious Luigi,” The mocking voice of King Boo made Luigi freeze in his spot as he slowly turned to face the monarch, “We’re gonna get married!”

“…WHAT?!” Luigi screamed; fear started to settle in again.

“Well it makes sense, doesn’t it?” King Boo sneered, “Your beloved Bowser always kidnapped Peach back when he was a bad guy and you and your brother would always go meddling with his plans to get her back. But now since Bowser wants to be a goody-two-shoes, he thinks that he can get away with leaving our friendship behind! Well tough shit! If he wants to play the good guy, then he’s gonna get treated the way good guys should!”

“So let me get this straight, the only reason you’re marrying me is just to get back at Bowser for wanting to be a better person, or in his case koopa?” Luigi deadpanned.

“Well duh, you honestly think I’m doing this because I like you?!” King Boo gagged, Luigi didn’t know whether to feel flattered or offended that the thought of marrying him made the ghost feel sick. “I’m letting that dragon wannabe get a taste of his own medicine, the only difference is that when he’s getting here, he ain’t walking out with a victory or a bride in his arms.”

The monarch cackled, frightening Luigi all over again. Even before he and Bowser got together, he always believed that King Boo was the worse out of the two. Even though Bowser was great when they first met – to put it mildly- in a way, he still cared for his subjects and believed that his wrong actions were good in a way. There were even times as foes when the koopa would help him and his brother on missions, showing some light in the koopa that proved he was worth redemption. But with King Boo, he wasn’t in denial about being awful, he loved being horrible and committed each terrible actions with glee, and the way he spoke to and about his subjects make Luigi gawk at how someone could say such unkind things with a grin of his face.

The king took that as his sign to leave. Bingley followed behind, a sad look on his face. “I’m sorry,” was the last thing he said before disappearing.

Luigi sunk to his knees, the reality of the situation becoming much clearer than before, he could only hope that this would end how his and Mario’s adventures would and Bowser will be able to save him. “Oh Bowser,” he whimpered, “Please hurry,”

.

.

.

“This is where the old man stays?” the koopa king inquired, as he, the princesses, Mario and Kamek came up to the Evershade Valley Mansions, koopa and toad soldiers following behind. They had changed out of their formal attire before arriving, with Mario wearing his normal overalls, the princesses changed into their biker suits, Bowser had dawned his normal spiked neck and arm bracers while Kamek continued to war his blue cloak. Polterpup was currently trailing by Bowser’s feet, offering as much comfort as he could to his master’s fiancé.

“From what Luigi told me, E. Gadd continued his research here along with a few ghost that didn’t want to be acquainted with King Boo,” Mario informed the group, scanning his surroundings at the same time.

“I don’t know whether to a grateful or wary about the lack of ghosts here,” said Peach, clutching her axe “Keep your eyes open in case it’s a trap.”

“Whether the ghosts assisted King Boo with stabilising the doctor or they had no choice in the matter,” Kamek spoke up, “It is important to wait until we find E. Gadd before jumping to any conclusions.”

The group nodded in agreement when suddenly, Polterpup sniffed the air as a familiar scent was caught in the air. With an excited yip, he tore down the path down to the main mansion ahead.

“Polterpup, wait!” Bowser called out.

“We need to go after him,” said Mario, “He probably knows where E. Gadd is!”

Bowser turned to the guards outside, “You all stay there and keep watch, inform us immediately if you see anything suspicious!”

The soldiers nodded as the group chased down the little blur of white as the pup faded through the walls of the mansion. They opened the doors as carefully as they could, making sure not to alert any ghosts that could still be wandering by.

They spotted the little dog sniffing the floor, turning his head to the group as though he were telling them to follow him. Bowser was the first to move, desperate to find the doctor as soon as possible so that Luigi was back and safe with him. After a few twists and turns, Polterpup soon led them down a basement. Lo and behold, frozen in a painting was E. Gadd, his face frozen with terror. Polterpup whined at the state the old man was in, looking up to Bowser pleadingly.

Bowser patted the little dog’s head, “Don’t worry boy, we’ll get him out.” He turned to the others, “What was the device that Luigi used that helped get you out of the portrait?”

“He said something about a dark-light device,” said Mario, “I’ll go look for it, I’m quite familiar with place.”

“I’ll come with you,” Peach placed a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t want you doing this alone.”

“Are you sure?” Mario asked, “You’ve never been here before, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I know, but I have been caught by King Boo before, so I know how it feels,” Peach reassured him, “Besides, Luigi means a lot to me as well and I want to help get him back.”

Mario smiled warmly, taking Peach’s hand off his shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it, “Okay.”

“We’ll stay here with Bowser,” said Rosalina, gesturing to herself, Daisy and Kamek, “In case anything happens.”

Mario and Peach nodded, making their way back up the stairs as they searched the empty mansion.

“Be careful, the last thing we needed is someone sneaking up on us,” Mario told her.

“Don’t worry dear, I can handle myself,” Peach answered. When arriving at the second floor, the due came across a room that seem to be more lived in than the others. The sheets of the bed were clean, the wardrobe was half open and filled with clothing, and a chest with E. Gadd’s crest on the front of it. Peach turned to Mario with a proud smirk on her face, “I believe we have a lead.”

Mario grinned at the Princess as the two made there way over, “There seems to be a lock on this.”

“Stand back,” Peach gently pushed him away as the lifted the axe before her head, but before it could make contact with anything, a ghost burst its head out of the chest, startling her and making her fall back.

“Peach!” Mario cried out, rushing over to her and helping her up.

“Leave!” the ghost screeched, though not as angry as it tried to make itself out to be, it was more worried and fearful is anything, “Leave while you can!”

“Sorry,” Mario shook his head, “But I’ve got a brother to save.”

The sound of bars slamming the ground made the due whip their heads round, the door was blocked by some sort of ectoplasm bars and more ghosts teleporting into the room. With quick thinking, Peach slammed her axe down onto the chest, breaking it and revealing a poltergust and a dark light. Mario quickly grabbed the two items, slinging the poltergust onto his side and clipping the dark light to his belt, “Peach, cover me!”

The princess nodded, swinging her axe at any ghost that tried to come close to her or Mario. Quickly switching the poltergust on, he aimed it towards the first ghost that tried to attack them, as the poltergust began sucking the ghost in, Mario slammed him to the ground a few times before the ghost was fully stored inside. This continued on, with Peach guarding his back with her axe while Mario sucked in the ghosts. During this he couldn’t help but feel proud of his baby brother, this is what he did every time Mario was captured and managed to do it each time without fail. He was definitely going to pay for Luigi and Bowser’s honeymoon the second they find him.

Once the last ghost was sucked up, the duo raced out of the room and back down to the basement before they were stopped again. Bowser perked up the minute he saw the dark light.

“You got it!” Bowser exclaimed.

“Yeah, not without a little trail and error first,” Mario chuckled, “Stand aside, I’m getting the doctor out.”

As Bowser did that, Mario attached the dark light to the poltergust and aimed it to the painting. With the flick of the switch and the soft glow of the dark light doing its work, E. Gadd stumbled out on the painting and fell onto his bottom. Polterpup barked happily and went over to lick the old man’s face.

“Oh my, Polterpup please give me some space!” E. Gadd spluttered.

Bowser suppressed a laugh as he lifted the pup up with one hand, “It’s good to see you again doctor.”

“I express the same sentiments, although I do wish it was under different circumstances,” the old man muttered.

“Would you mind explaining what happened here?” Kamek asked.

“Well its simple really, I was preparing myself for Luigi’s wedding until that blasted King Boo barged in and grabbed my dark light before I had any time to react. When I tried to call out to my ghost friends, King Boo had forced them to assist him and threated that they face dire consequences if they didn’t do as he commanded. In the blink of an eye I was suddenly in the painting and was forced to listen to his plans with Luigi,” E. Gadd recounted his story.

“Plans with Luigi?” Bowser frowned, dread returning once again, “What plans does he have with my fiancé?”

“For some reason, that mad King believes that the best way to get back at you is kidnapping and marrying Luigi!” E. Gadd told him.

“He plans to what?” Bowser growled, the thought of his sweet and kind Luigi being forced to marry the one he feared most made his stomach churn.

“Apparently the king was quite upset that you left your friendship behind,” said E. Gadd, “He wants to recreate each time you’ve kidnapped Peach in order for you to get a taste of your own medicine.”

Daisy burst out laughing, “I really don’t mean to react like this but oh my god! Bowser’s finally getting karma I can’t believe it! This is what you get for kidnapping my best friend!”

“Daisy, please,” Rosalina sighed, “Don’t mind her, she means well.”

Bowser groaned and rubbed his face, “She’s kinda right though, I deserve this after putting Peach through all of my ridiculous plans.”

“Which you have shown remorse for and I’ve already forgiven you,” said Peach, “Now I believe you have a fiancé to rescue before he becomes someone else’s bride.”

The image of Luigi and King Boo flashing in his mind was what made his head get back into the game, “Doctor, tell me you have something to help save Luigi.”

“Well lucky for you my friends, I have learned a little titbit over my years of research,” the old man grinned, “Always make sure to pack extra.”

.

.

.

Luigi sighed as he clutched a bouquet of black roses as he waited at the doors that were attached to the castle ballroom. He wished he was back in the koopa kingdom, wearing the dress that he chose, walking down the aisle with Mario, smiling at all his friends and family as he and Bowser exchanged vows. Why did this always happen to him? And why did it have to be today of all days?

“Mister Luigi?” A little voice piped up.

Luigi looked to his left, a soft smile forming on his lips as he saw a little baby boo by his side, “Oh, hello piccolo. Are you alright?”

“I was actually going to ask you that,” the baby boo said, “I know you find our master really scary.”

Luigi’s face fell a little, “He doesn’t really like me that much.”

“Then why does he want to marry you?” the little boo asked, “My mama always said that you should marry for love.”

“And your mama is absolutely right,” Luigi tapped the boo on the nose – or where its nose should be – “But King Boo is doing this for the wrong reasons, that’s why I’m so sad.”

“I’m sorry,” the baby boo nuzzled itself into Luigi’s neck, with Luigi nuzzling right back.

“It’s not your fault bambino,” Luigi patted its head, “Sometimes there are those who do these types of things and we often don’t know why they do it.”

“I hope that you’ll get to marry someone you love soon,” said the little baby boo, “I don’t know if this will make you happy, but you look really pretty!”

Luigi chuckled and nuzzled the boo again, “Thank you, that does make me feel a bit happy.”

The sound of trumpets made him gasp; the wedding was starting.

“I have to go,” the baby boo whimpered, “I don’t want to get in trouble, be careful Mister Luigi!”

The boo disappeared as the doors opened. Luigi gulped as he forced himself to walk down the aisle. The guests consisted of other ghosts and boos, looking extremely guilty about the whole ordeal. At the end of the aisle was King Boo, smugly straightening a bowtie. Luigi dreaded for what would happen once he made it to the end, pleading internally for something – anything – to put an end to this.

He made it to the end of the aisle, King Boo grinning as a ghost officiant began his speech. “We are gathered here to celebrate the union between our King and the green half of the Mushroom Kingdom Heroes,” the ghost began to shake under the fearful stare King Boo was giving him, “Though this couple seems unlikely, it is this ceremony that shows-”

“-Yada, yada, yada!” King Boo interrupted, looking irritated already, “Just skip to the ‘I do’s’ would ya!”

“Um, yes, of course your majesty,” the ghost stammered, “Do you King Boo accept Luigi’s hand in marriage.”

King Boo cackled, “I do,”

“And do you Luigi accept our King as your husband,” the ghost turned to the human.

Luigi trembled, desperately wanting to say no. But he was at the mercy of the king, if he was to say no who knows what would happen? The last thing he wanted was for anyone to get hurt because of him. Someone, please, get me out of here! Help me, please!

Crash!

The windows shattered, glass falling everywhere, Luigi lifted to arms to shield himself but when he lowered them, Bowser was stood in front of him with a poltergust in hand. “Bowser!” he all but cried tears of happiness seeing the love of his life.

“Luigi!” yelled back with the same amount of joy.

The human was about to run to the koopa when he was grabbed by King Boo and the two of them were ascended to the ceiling. “Sorry old friend!” King Boo sneered, “But your little human belongs to me now!”

“Um, actually sire,” the ghost officiant spoke up, cowering when King Boo glared down at him, “The human didn’t repeat his vows, therefore you too aren’t married yet.”

“WHAT?!” King Boo screeched, turning back to Bowser, “It doesn’t matter, whether he likes it or not, Luigi will be my subject.” He turned to the rest of the ghosts and boos “What are you waiting for?! GET HIM!”

Within seconds, every single boo and ghost went to attack Bowser straight away. The koopa was prepared however, taking out the poltergust and aiming it at each one that came his way. When one boo or ghost was being sucked up, Bowser would slam them to the ground, dodge aa hit from another attacker, slam the half sucked-up ghost to the attacker, and repeat again each time after a ghost or boo was stored away into the poltergust.

“That’s it Bowser!” Luigi cheered, earning a proud and flustered grin from the koopa, “That’s my fiancé!”

“Would you shut up!” King Boo screeched into his ear, “Hurry up and say I do before I make you regret it!”

“Never in a million years,” Luigi retorted, feeling a bit bolder, “I have faith that Bowser is going to defeat you, if you’re going to pretend to be like my fiancé, you have to accept that you’re going to lose like he did.”

“I heard that!” Bowser yelled.

“PRETEND?!” King Boo screamed, “I AM TWICE THE KING THAN BOWSER WILL EVER BE! HERE, IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME, I’LL SHOW YA! SQUISH HIM FLAT YOU FOOLS!”

The ghosts and boos paled at that order, they only wanted to distract Bowser, even if it wasn’t working. But deep down, they were secretly hoping that the koopa would be able to stop them so they wouldn’t need to deal with King Boo’s cruelty anymore. But an order was an order and there was no other back up plan. One by one, each boo and ghost piled on top of the koopa king, for what they lacked in size, the poltergeists made up in numbers. Soon, Bowser was stuck to the ground, trying desperately to keep a grip on the poltergust, but it slipped from his grasp.

“No!” Luigi tried to scramble out of King Boo’s hold, but it was too tight.

The king laughed maniacally, “Here’s the deal wimp, you other complete your vows, or I end your precious koopa right here right now. The choice is yours.”

Luigi bit his lip, glancing at the winded koopa on the ground, he didn’t want to make this worse than it already was. But just as he was about to agree, a faint chuckling rose from below the boo and human.

“Wow!” Bowser laughed, to the confusion of King Boo and his subjects, “How is your ego worse than mine old pal?”

“Excuse me,” King Boo growled, “You’re nothing but a pathetic waste on my castle floors, I have your little Luigi at my beck and call, yet you still believe that you can win this?!”

“I do, actually,” Bowser smirked, “I just have to wait in three…two…one.”

The roof crumbled, long ropes falling from the empty hole above as the toad and koopa armies swung down, poltergusts in tow. Within seconds, they were sucking up the boos and ghosts off Bowser, with the koopa lifting himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and picked his poltergust up from the ground. The princesses, Mario, E. Gadd and Kamek made their way down as well, with Mario and E. Gadd being the only ones with Poltergusts. Kamek and Rosalina had their wands while Daisy wielded a sword and Peach an axe.

Many more boos and ghosts flooded the ballroom, but by the looks on their faces, they were no match for Bowser’s friends and armies.

“COME AT ME YOU OVERGROWN MARSHMALLOWS!” Daisy shrieked at the incoming poltergeists.

“I’d advise surrendering,” Rosalina murmured, “My patience grows thin when my friends are endangered. Either that or you face my darling Daisy, trust me, you’d rather surrender now.”

“You ruin my son’s wedding and kidnapped my future son-in-law,” Kamek grumbled, “I plan to make your consequences extremely severe.”

“King Boo!” E. Gadd screamed, “Your lucky that if it wasn’t for Luigi, I’d burn your portraits by now, research be damned!”

“Luigi is one of my best friends,” Peach spoke calmly, though her eyes darkened, “I don’t take it well when people hurt my friends.”

“You shouldn’t have taken my brother!” Mario shouted, “One thing I always make sure is if anyone messes with Luigi, they regret it deeply!”

“Luigi is the love of my life,” smoke escaped from Bowser’s nostrils, the threat of what was to come being extremely clear, “You hurt him one too many times, and now, I’m going to take great pride with finding out just how to make you suffer for it.”

Luigi felt King Boo tremble, there was no denying how obvious it was, despite the stoic look he tried to maintain. “I-I…JUST SAY ‘I DO’ ALREADY YOU LITTLE!!!---” King Boo didn’t manage to finish his sentence when fire escaped from Bowser’s mouth, making the king drop Luigi.

Luigi screamed, afraid that he was going to meet the hard marble of the ground when he felt himself plopped into something warm and scaly. Taking in his surroundings, he noticed that the hand he was in had bright yellow scaled. Looking up, he met his fiancé’s beautiful red eyes and a tearful smile pulled at his lips, “Bowser, you came for me!”

He lunged himself at the koopa, gripping him tight in a hug. The koopa chuckled as he gripped Luigi back, “I wasn’t gonna let some dumb boo ruin our wedding. Besides, I promised to protect you, that means rescuing you from impromptu kidnappings.” Luigi pulled back, gentling cradling the koopa’s face in his hands before bringing him into a kiss. Bowser returned the kiss with the same amount of softness, before gently pulling back and resting his forehead against Luigi’s. It was then when his eyes trailed over Luigi’s form and noticed the new gown he was in. He blushed at the amount of exposed skin from Luigi’s tight-clad legs.

Once Luigi noticed the koopa’s gaze on him, he buried his face into his hands, squealing, “Oh god, I just realised I had this on! This is so embarrassing!”

“Well I’ll give King Boo this,” Bowser smirked, “He has a good taste in fashion. Though, I think its mostly you, you’re able to pull off everything.”

“Stop,” Luigi’s face was as red as his brother’s overalls, though he secretly loved the complement, “I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this dress, its really not my usual style.”

Bowser took pity on his fiancé’s flustered state, so he tore off a piece of a black curtain and wrapped it around the human. He pressed a kiss to the human’s forehead, “Better?”

“Much,” Luigi rested his head against the koopa’s muzzle “Thank you.”

“NO, NO!” the screams of King Boo tore the happy couple away from their tender moment as they turned to see the poltergeist being sucked into Mario’s poltergust, the rest of the ghosts and boos seemed to have been sucked up as well while the two were being reunited, “THIS ISN’T FAIR, I’M SUPPOSED TO WIN!”

Daisy whacked the flat edge of her sword against the boo’s head, assisting with Mario’s poltergust sucking up the King. “NO!” was the last word King Boo spoke before he too disappeared into the poltergust.

“And that is what happens what you mess with my brother,” Mario scowled. It quickly faded the moment he saw his brother, “Lu, are you okay?! This fantasma che mangia merda didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No Mario, I’m okay!” Luigi sniffed at the sight of seeing his brother, the red plumber jumping into the koopa’s hand to give his brother a hug, “I’m okay Mario, you don’t need to worry.”

“Good, otherwise I’m getting Daisy to whack him with her sword again,” Mario muffled his words into Luigi’s shoulder, still squeezing him tight.

“I’m up for it!” Daisy put her thumbs up.

“Ah, ah, darling,” Rosalina hooked her thumb under Daisy’s chin, “Behave yourself.”

“Eh-uh-um…Rosa you can’t just pull that on me!” Daisy spluttered, blushing madly.

Luigi giggled, leaning into Bowser’s and Mario hold.

“We’re so glad you’re safe Luigi,” said Peach as she walked up to them, “We’ll make sure that this remains as a one-time thing.”

“After seeing how King Boo reacted to all of you bursting in like that, I’ll have to agree,” Luigi nodded.

“Its good to see you again son,” E. Gadd spoke up, Kamek by his side as the koopa agreed with every word the old man said, “I apologise for not making it to the wedding, as you can tell I was quite…preoccupied.”

“There’s no need to apologise doctor,” Luigi smiled, “I have a feeling we’ll need to push the wedding date back a little bit to clean up the mess King Boo left behind.”

“Well with a little help with my magic, the process should be a bit quicker,” said Kamek, “And I’ll finally have a proper chance to deal with King Boo and his subjects.”

However, at Kamek’s words, Luigi’s eyes flittered over to the full poltergusts in the corner, his smile drooped. Bowser took notice of the human’s change of demeanour immediately, “What’s wrong, love?”

“Its just…” Luigi sighed, turning to Bowser. Mario jumped down to give his brother more room, “I can’t help but feel sorry for the boos and ghosts under King Boo’s rule.”

“What?!” Daisy cried, “Those guys literally helped King Boo kidnap you?! You seriously feel sorry for them?!”

“Its not their fault!” Luigi retorted, “King Boo was forcing them to do that stuff, after all these years with dealing with him I get it. I don’t wait to punish them just because their boss scared them into doing something they didn’t want to do. I’m not saying they shouldn’t face consequences, but I want to give them the benefit of the doubt.” He placed his hand on Bowser’s cheek, “Just like someone else I know.”

Bowser leaned into the human’s touch, “You never cease to amaze me greenie.”

“Kamek,” Luigi turned to the magikoopa, “If you don’t mind, I would like to release these boos and ghosts to make them part of our kingdom, as long as they want to.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Kamek bowed before moving to the poltergusts,” With your permission E. Gadd, I’m going to remove King Boo’s old subjects out off these poltergusts and keep a hold of them, sans the king of course.”

“By all means go ahead,” E. Gadd stepped to the side as Kamek waved his wand, summoning the boos and ghost out of the poltergusts, yet making sure he used his magic to keep them from trying anything.

The poltergeists gazed around the room, confused until their eyes landed on Luigi. The human’s heart twisted when he saw the petrified looks on their faces, “There’s no need to worry, I’m not going to do anything. On behalf of myself and King Bowser, we would like to formally invite you all not only to be guests at our wedding, but to be citizens of our Kingdom as well.”

Each poltergeists’ eyes widened, each of them turning to face another ghost with surprise at the sudden news. “Although we aren’t letting you off the hook just yet,” Bowser spoke up, “We don’t want you to be in fear of King Boo anymore. In our kingdom, you will be safe and treated with the same respect as my own subjects.”

“Only if you wish of course,” Luigi reassured them, but the face splitting excited smiles each of the ghosts and boos had at the news they would finally be free of King Boo informed him what their answer would be. He nodded to Kamek to let them go, the poltergeists swirling and soaring through the air with joy, the baby boo from before rushing over to Luigi to nuzzle him again, with the human cuddling him fondly.

Bowser’s smile widened even more, holding his fiancé closer, wondering how he got so lucky. “Shall we head back home, dearest?”

“I would love that Mio Caro,” Luigi settled into the koopa’s arms, letting his eyes resting as he continued to cuddle the little boo.

Soon all the toads, koopa’s, boos and ghosts had filed up behind the rulers of their kingdoms as they headed back home.

.

.

.

A Few Weeks Later

“Do you Bowser, take Luigi’s hand in marriage as your lawfully wedded husband, to love him unconditionally until the end of time?”

“I do.”

“And do you Luigi, take Bowser’s hand in marriage as your lawfully wedded husband, to love him no matter what comes your way until you reunite in the cosmos?”

“I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you…married!” Kamek cheered.

The moment Bowser and Luigi’s lips met; the crowd rejoiced. The koopa, boos and toads were all hugging sobbing at the happy couple, Luigi’s family cried for their youngest son as they wished him and Bowser nothing but the best, Junior and Polterpup jumped up and down with joy at the sight of his dads finally being together, E. Gadd was sniffling into Kamek’s robe with the magikoopa complaining how dirty the doctor was getting it, Daisy and Rosalina smiled fondly at the happy couple as each princess planned on how they would propose to each other next, Mario and Peach had their arms around each other as they hoped that one day they would have a wedding just as magical as this. As for Bowser and Luigi, nothing else mattered in this moment apart from each other and how amazing the rest of their lives would be as long as the other was in it.

Luigi lifted his piranha plant bouquet into the air, letting the crowd get ready to catch it. He flung it up and let it go, letting it fly through the air until it landed in Daisy’s arms. She and Rosalina shared a look, the two of them blushing before the blonde smiled and brought the brunette into a soft kiss, the shorter of the two sighing happily against her girlfriend’s lips.

Bowser lifted Luigi into his arms, supporting his waist and legs – along with the poofy skirts of his original white dress – with Junior jumping onto Luigi as the human cuddled his son tight and Polterpup draping himself across Bowser’s shoulder while the koopa patted the pooch’s head.

Everything was perfect, there were no messed up plans, no interruptions and definitely no King Boo. While his old subjects did have a lot to make up for after what they did to Luigi, they were welcomed into the koopa kingdom with open arms. King Boo, however, was sealed tight into a portrait and locked up in a safe where he could never touch Luigi again.

His ocean blue eyes met Bowser’s fiery red once again, though neither of them said a word, they knew exactly what the other was silently asked for. They would have to go in for photos and the after party soon, but Luigi wanted to relish this moment as much as he could.

So before anything and everything else, the couple’s lips pressed into one more gentle kiss. And finally, all was right.

.

.

.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little birthday gift. Have a great rest of your day xx.

[artstennisracket]

Camp Evergreen

Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

Ch 1: Move-In

May 2006

Ever since they were 12 Patrick and Art have been attached at the hip. Anywhere Patrick was, Art was right behind. It was a little strange seeing as neither of them had friends they were this close to before but maybe that’s just what happens when you share a room with someone.

At first it was little things, like Patrick asking if they could sit together at lunch and be hitting partners during practice. Then it escalated to switching their class schedules around to make sure they always had the same classes together.

Patrick also had a thing for physical touch. It was almost as if he had no concept of personal space, at least that’s how Art saw it. There was always a part of Patrick that seemed to be touching him, not that Art was necessarily complaining. Though it did take Art a while to warm up to. Art’s parents were very endearing and loving but touching wasn’t big in his family. He can’t remember the last time he hugged his parents. But he can remember the last time he hugged Patrick. It wasn’t really a hug though it was more of Patrick having his arms around Art’s waist and his head on Art’s shoulder after a particularly exhausting practice. That’s basically a hug.

Either way Patrick is always invading Art’s personal space bubble by playing his hair, putting his arm around Art’s shoulder, or laying his legs in Art’s lap. Their physical touchiness definitely escalated after they decided (Patrick insisted) they pushed their beds together in 9th grade. They went from waking up tangled up together and being apologetic about it “ Sorry man, I must’ve moved in my sleep” to “Can I be the big spoon tonight?” A natural progression of course.

So naturally spending summers apart was actual hell. Neither of them would admit it but sleeping alone was hard. They had created their new normal so readjusting to their old normal every summer was hard. Until Patrick came up with genius of idea of getting a summer job together. The only problem was they didn’t live in the same town, so how could they be together every waking moment this summer?

“We could be camp counselors together!” Patrick exclaimed sitting up in their pushed together beds.

“That’s actually not the worst idea you’ve had” Art said from their shared bathroom. He had left the door open after coming out the shower to let the steam out. He has his towel around his waist as he attempts to fix his hair.

“I have great ideas all the time, like the time I set you up with uh what was her name ag-“

“Stacy. And that was a terrible idea, she didn’t want me she wanted you. She was looking over at you the entire time she was talking to me” Art rolled his eyes continuing to fidget with his hair.

“Whatever, you love my ideas” Patrick says as he starts looking for camp counselor jobs at sleep away camps.

Art walks out of the bathroom, towel hanging low on his hips, “Should I get a haircut?”

Patrick looks over to him smirk on his face, “No don’t do that, what’re the girls gonna pull on when you go down on them?” Patrick eyes are glued to Art. He looks good. He’s definitely no longer the shy scrawny 12 year old he met 6 years ago.

Art rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Why do I even bother asking you questions and expecting an actual answer.” He walks over to his closet to start getting dressed.

“Don’t cut it, it’s cute like that I like your curls.” Patrick says with all seriousness but Art could still hear the smirk in his voice.

After Art gets dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that may actually be Patrick’s, he grabs his laptop and joins Patrick on their pushed together beds. Art sits in the bed leaving about a foot of space between them but he knew it wouldn’t be long before Patrick closed that gap. After Art opens his laptop to join Patrick in his camp counselor job search, Patrick moves to throw his legs over Art’s.

“What about Camp Adventure?” Patrick asks.

“You mean the all girls camp upstate? How do you expect us to land that job?” Art retorts.

Patrick makes an oh face, continuing his search. “Oh I didn’t see that. What about Camp Evergreen? Tennis is one of the activities the campers do there, we could emphasize that experience on our resume.”

Art looks up Camp Evergreen and it seems to tick all the boxes. Sleepaway camp? Check. Hiring camp counselors? Check. Co-ed? Check.

Satisfied Art nods, “This actually might work, I’ll work on my application.”

A smirk reappearing in Patrick’s face,” I told you I always have good ideas.”

Art just rolls his eyes and continues to work on his application.

~

Move-in Day

Monday 11:00am

Camp Evergreen was located in Catskills, NY. It was a massive twenty acre property not too far from the Catskills mountains.

There were two sides for lodging, the girls side and the boys side. Both sides had around twenty-five cabins that house up to 6 campers. There were an extra 5 cabins on each side that were designated for counselors. Counselor cabins had the same capacity to house up to six people but usually only two counselors had a share a cabin together.

With girls and boys lodging being on opposite ends of the camp, most of the activities, dining hall, and locker ok, were situated in the center. There was a massive outdoor olympic sized swimming pool, four tennis courts, two basketball courts, and a baseball field. Other activities were spread out to other areas of camp like archery and even an indoor rollerskating rink. There was also a lake that held an outdoor water playground complete with massive floating obstacles kids could play on.

Before the kids moved in, all counselors were required to move in a week early to do their orientation, training, and get their grade assignments.

Patrick and Art were currently with the rest of counselors getting a tour of the camp grounds from the camp director. Patrick had kept his arm around Art’s shoulder as they walked.

Patrick leaned closer to Art’s ear and whispered gesturing over to a small desire path that led into the dense forest surrounding them “Do you think we could smoke over there?”

“Shhh, I’m trying to pay attention, at least one of us needs to know how to get around” Art responds without missing a beat. He was focused on the tour because unlike Patrick he was an actually a little nervous and wanted to be good at his job. Kids can be kind of judgy and he doesn’t want to give them a reason to question his authority.

The director was started to finish up his up this tour, “And if you look to the left you’ll see the the arts and crafts building where you’ll have the take the campers every other day, but you guys will get your schedules inside the auditorium”.

All the counselors filed into the auditorium to find that there were name tags on each seat with a counselors name attached. It seemed to be organized by cabin so Art and Patrick’s seats were next to each other. They had requested to room together.

They sit down and find their camp schedules and grade assignments. The campers ages ranged from seven all the way to 16.

Art was assigned to 5th grade boys. “5th graders can’t be that scary right?” He asked while staring down at his roster.

Patrick could sense Art’s nervousness. He checked his roster, 8th grade boys cool. “Don’t stress your gonna be a great counselor and their all gonna love you. What are you nervous about anyway?”

How did Patrick even know he was nervous? Better question is why does he ever doubt how well Patrick can read him. “I’m not nervous…I’ve just never had to be responsible for a group of children before, what if something goes wrong? What if they don’t listen?”

Patrick puts his arm around the back of Art’s chair and turned to look at him. “They’re kids, things are gonna go wrong and some of them aren’t gonna listen you just gotta adapt. But seriously don’t stress, they’re not even here yet.”

Art nodded and tried to compartmentalize Patrick’s words. He’s right they are kids things are bond to go wrong. As long as no one got hurt everything would be okay.

Patrick moves his hand to play with the curls at the nape of Art’s neck, “Besides this is gonna be a fun summer, no parents, no class, and we’re here together let’s just have fun.”

Art nods again. Right, a super fun, zero-drama, action-packed summer.

~

Move-in day (Campers)

A week later…

Monday 6:30am

Art woke up on his side of the bed (Patrick had already pushed their beds together from the first day the moved in last week) at 6:30 to turn off his alarm. Today was move in day for the campers so he wanted time to get ready.

He took out what he wanted to wear that day. They had been given 3 camp shirts that day “Counselor” on the back. The 3 shirts were red, white, and green respectively, all with different variations of the camp logo on them. He picked out the white shirt and some black nike shorts. He was going to shower but decided it’d be better to shower at night once the day had ended. He moved to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Once he got to the step of fixing of his hair he heard Patrick stirring awake.

Art checked his phone. 7:00am. “Time to get up Patrick,” Art continued fixing his hair, hoping Patrick would start getting ready because move in started at 8:00am.

Patrick hummed in acknowledgment into his pillow. He took a few extra minutes of sleep before he got up. “Too early” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Better get used to it. Camp starts at 9am everyday. Aren’t you excited for the first day?” Art says walking away from the sink going to lean on the door frame of the bathroom looking over at Patrick who’s sitting up in their bed.

Patrick looks back at him smirk creeping up on his face. “You should wear the red shirt, it brings out your eyes more.”

Art arched one eyebrow up in question, “Since when do you care about what brings out my eyes?”

Patrick smirk was still stuck on his face but something flashed behind his eyes that Art couldn’t read. “You have pretty eyes. Is it a crime that I want everyone else to see how pretty you are- I mean your eyes are? You’ll charm all the parents and they’ll love you.”

Art scrunched his eyebrows. There was a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks and a feeling in his stomach he couldn’t quite place. “Now I know you’re still tired because of all the nonsense you’re saying.”

Patrick rolls his eyes letting out a soft chuckle before heading past Art and into their bathroom.

Art walks over to his side of the room putting his shoes on, “I’m gonna head out I’ll see you when you finish”

Patrick makes a sound of acknowledgment as he brushes his teeth.

Art heads out the door of their cabin, but not before changing into the red camp shirt.

…

Monday 7:30am

Art thinks he may have to expand his horizons and actually make some new friends, maybe some of the more experienced counselors? Not that anyone could ever replace his best friend but it’d be nice to learn from someone who’s done this job before.

He walks over to where some of the counselors are gathered in a little huddle to join them.

“I’m telling you, if Jordan and Ryan are bunk mates again I think that might actually be my last straw” One girl states while the other counselors laugh in response.

Okay this could be a good time to interject with out it being a super awkward. 12 year old Art would never imagine trying to intervene himself into a group conversation with people he doesn’t know. Meanwhile Patrick has always seemed to conduct any room he walked into and make friends with every person he meets. Maybe Patrick has rubbed off on him a little.

“Who are Jordan and Ryan?” Art asks, hoping he was loud enough to be heard. Repeating his question would make him die of embarrassment on the spot.

The group turns their heads to glance over at him. Two girls subconsciously move in order to make space for him to join their circle. Art does a small nod of appreciation, then looks over to the girl who had made the original comment about Jordan and Ryan. She has curly red hair past her shoulders and copious amounts of freckles scattered across her face.

“They’re just two boys in the 8th grade group who do the absolute worst pranks. If they bunk together they’ll have even more time to scheme which is worse for us.” She responds with a half smile on her face.

“Oh my gosh yes, last year they put crickets in all the girls cabins. I couldn’t sleep without hearing chirping for weeks” The girl standing next to Art chimes in. She has short blonde hair and hazel eyes.

“I remember that, the camp director tried to blame the guys counselors. How are we supposed to keep track of anyone 24/7? Especially after curfew.” A guy standing across from Art adds in. He has short brown hair and brown eyes.

“What’s your name? I don’t think we’ve seen you here before.” The red hair girl asks.

“I’m Art, and ya I’m new to this, new to being a camp counselor at all actually but me and my friend Patrick thought it’d be a fun to do together.” Art says.

“Nice to meet you Art! I’m Olivia, and this is Justin, Taylor, Sam, Ally and Kyle.” Olivia responds, introducing the rest of the group. She points to each person as she does so. Art has now identified the blonde hair girl as Sam and the brown hair guy as Justin.

“Where’s your friend? Patrick you said his name was?” A girl with very long black hair braided into two pigtails asks. Art thinks Olivia said her name was Ally? He’s not good at remembering names.

Art gestures in the direction of his cabin, “He’s not a morning person but he should be here soon. How long have you guys been camo counselors?”

The group nods in understanding. Mornings aren’t for everyone. “This is my third summer but most of us have done at least one summer before.” A guy with dirty blonde hair responds. Taylor his name was.

Art nods and makes a mental note to ask Taylor more about being a counselor and any advice/ words of wisdom he may need.

“What group did you get?” The last guy asks. He has tight curls and his hair is cut low, Kyle was his name.

Art looks down at the paper roster in his hand. The other counselors were carrying theirs too. It was going to be useful during move in. “I got 5th grade boys, is that bad?”

There’s a mixed reaction from the group but Olivia speaks up first, “Honestly they’re not tooooo bad. They’re not super young where they’re incapable of following instructions but they’re not older to the point where they don’t respect authority. It’s a good group to have.”

That calmed Art’s nerves down a little but he also tried to remember Patrick’s words from yesterday. There’s nothing for Art to be stressed about…yet.

“But I think it’s getting closer to move-in time we should head to our tables, it was nice meeting you again Art!” Olivia says checking the time on her smart watch. For move-in there were tables of counselors stationed in front of a group of cabins and a roster to keep track of who’s moved in.

The group slowly starts to disperse while others chime saying different variations of ‘Nice to meet you.’

…

Monday 8:50am

So Patrick may or may not of went back to sleep so when he woke up and saw the time he was scrambling. Patrick had just thrown on the closest clothes he could find because of course he was running late. Patrick was notoriously late and Art was always 15 minutes early because “On time is late Patrick” Art would always say. And Patrick would say his lateness had improved since meeting Art but he’s not perfect. Art is perfect. He knows Art doesn’t think he is but Patrick thinks so.

It took Patrick a really long time to figure out why he was so drawn to Art in the first place. He’s never had a friend like Art before. As time went on and they grew older and went through puberty, Art would be stressing about girls while Patrick was having a full-on sexual awakening. Patrick never had much trouble with girls, it came naturally him. His charisma was easily one of his best traits. But not so long after he realized that he also liked boys. More specifically he liked Art. From the way Art’s hair got extra curly when he grew it out, his striking blue eyes that Patrick could stare at for days on end, to the way that after being friends for so long that Patrick could read Art so easily, Patrick loved everything about Art.

It took a minute but by the time they were 16 Patrick knew he was in love with Art, but he’d never say it because he knew Art didn’t feel the same. He doesn’t want to lose Art, that would break him. So for now he’s just going to shove those feeling deep deep deep down.

He picks up some white athletic shorts and puts those on with the white camp shirt. He has no idea whose shorts these are but it doesn’t matter. He messes with his hair a little and eventually gives up, throwing his sneakers on, grabbing his roster and running out the front door.

…

Monday 9:15am

By the time Patrick makes it to his table assignment for move-in, another counselor was already there. Every table has at least two counselors assigned to them to assist with move in.

Patrick takes a seat next to this guy with dirty blonde hair and freckles. “Hey how’s it going, I’m Patrick”

The counselor sitting next to him turns to make eye contact a small smirk on his face, “Ahhh okay so your the infamous Patrick. I’m Taylor”

Patrick scrunches his eyebrows, “What do you mean?” He huffs letting out a light chuckle, he doesn’t think he’s ever met this person before? But he wasn’t the best with names.

“We met Art earlier and he mentioned you’d probably be late to move-in. Luckily it hasn’t been too busy yet only a few campers have moved in so far” Taylor responds.

Patrick nods in acknowledgment smirk forming on his face, “Oh okay, ya I am Patrick and yes I am usually late but in my defense Art is always early.”

“He seems like that type. But he didn’t mention much about where you guys from?” Taylor questions.

What does Taylor know about the type of person Art ‘seems’ like? Patrick stopped his line of thinking before he became weirdly defensive. Of course he would go to bat for Art on any occasion but just because Art is blind to Patrick’s feelings doesn’t mean others would be so Patrick needs to tone it down.

Patrick’s smirk has faded a little, “Um we’ve been bunkmates since we were 12. We go to a tennis boarding school, Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy.”

“Oh nice so you guys must be super close then. What made you guys wanna do this this summer?” Taylor continues with his questions.

Obviously Patrick isn’t gonna say ‘Well actually I have a hard time sleeping on my own and spending every waking moment with Art is the only way I know how to function’. So instead he ops to say “Ya he’s easily my best friend we spend most of our time together so we thought it could be fun to spend a summer together too.”

Taylor nods hesitantly, “Wow you guys are better than me for sure, I get sick of people too easily I’m much more of a loner . It’s cute tho that you guys are so close.”

“Well with Art it’s easy, he’s just really nice to be around and…ya” Patrick realizes he probably shouldn’t have said that, who says that platonically about their best friend? Or maybe people do. So he takes a deep breath and continues “I think also since we live together it’s inevitable but it’s not like we’re together 24/7 or anything.”

Taylor quirks his eyebrow with a small smirk on his face, “I’m not grilling you or anything you don’t have to prove anything to me, man”

Patrick nods as they continue casual conversation. More about why Taylor decided to be a counselor, how he loves his job and he’s been doing for a while. Patrick talks more about tennis and how him and Art has won the Junior U.S. Open for Doubles.

…

Monday 12:30pm

Art doesn’t see Patrick properly until all the way at lunch time. He met all his campers after move-in and they played some ice breakers. After that he followed the schedule provided to him by the camp. So they had Arts and Crafts first, then tennis, and then some time at the water playground before lunchtime. It was nice that each section had a designated instructor and the water based activities had lifeguards.

Art’s main role as a counselor was just to supervise the campers. Except when it came to the sports areas, so for basketball, baseball, and tennis he would have to be the instructor for those but he didn’t mind. The tennis courts were actually right next to the outdoor swimming pool so he did actually get a quick glimpse of Patrick there.

While Art was teaching his campers some tennis basics, Patrick was with his campers at the outdoor pool. They were mostly just playing around while Patrick watched from the sidelines. Eventually his campers pressured him enough to jump in with them. Art watched meticulously as Patrick pulled his shirt off. It wasn’t long after that that Patrick jumped in the pool. Art returned his focus back to the task at hand, tennis.

Art had finally gotten to the point where his campers could start to volley with each other and he was quite impressed with how quickly they caught on. Their time on the tennis court would be wrapping up soon so they could move into the water playground. Art glanced back over to the pool to see Patrick getting out along with his campers. His curly hair was soaked and his body was glistening as the sun reflected off of him. Did he get tan? Art was always jealous when Patrick got tan because Art’s skin refused to tan, it only burned. Art continued to watch as Patrick toweled his body off. He always knew Patrick was naturally athletic but their time in the tennis academy with all that time spent training has definitely paid off. Art studied the curves of his abs and the way they clenched as Patrick laughed with campers about some joke they made. Patrick looked good. Art convinced himself that he can platonically think Patrick looks good, really good. Art was starting to feel hot but he blamed it on the sun.

“Artttttt what are you staring at?” One of his campers Jace asks.

Art snaps his head towards where the question is coming from. He can feel a blush rise to his cheeks, “Uh nothing, I was just, you know, looking in general, nothing specific, just looking you know…anyway let’s line up guys it’s time to go to the water playground!”

He’s hoping that since he was wearing sunglasses no one actually knew where he was looking.

Anyway, at lunch time the campers have designated tables separated by grade while the counselors can sit together however they please.

After grabbing lunch, Patrick finds Art sitting with a red haired girl and sits with them.

“So how’s the first day going so far? and I don’t think we’ve met yet, I’m Olivia” She says.

Patrick nods finishing up his bite of pizza. “I’m Patrick, where’d you find her at Art?” He takes another bite of pizza, a smirk gracing his face.

Art rolls his eyes. “We met at move-in which you would know if you were ever on time to anything in your life. Art goes to take a sip of his drink.

“It’s not my fault you kept me up all night babe.” Patrick winks before going back to scarfing down his now second slice of pizza.

Art sighs, “If anyone kept anyone up it was you with your god awful snoring.” He turns to Olivia, “Do you think if I roll my eyes hard enough they’ll fall out of my head?”

Olivia chuckles, “You guys fight like an old married couple it’s hilarious. I thought you guys lived together before this?”

“We have but maybe I should picked a new bunkmate that doesn’t snore.” Art says pointed in Patrick’s direction.

Patrick uses a napkin to clean his hands since he’s done eating, “You want a new cuddle buddy? I’m devastated.” He acts fake hurt holding his hands over his heart.

“Back to your original question, day one was good my campers are nice for the most part, I thought 5th grade boys would be more difficult. They do make me feel old though, what the hell is a “skibidi toilet”?” Art questions.

Olivia and Patrick look at each other and bust out laughing.

“What? What am I missing?” Art questions again.

Olivia’s laughter dies down as she responds, “It’s a stupid meme about a toilet don’t worry about it. How was your day Patrick?”

“Honestly the boys are cool. I didn’t realize that I’d get along with 8th graders that well.” Patrick says leaning back in his seat.

“Considering you’re intellectually on the same level with them I’d say that makes sense,” Art retorts. “What about you Olivia? How’s 6th grade girls going?”

“Same old same old. They’re past the stage where they enjoy getting dirty during outdoor activity so that can be difficult but they’re right at the stage where they love to gossip and are soooo boy crazy” Olivia responds taking another bite of her sandwich. “Actually I heard alot of them talking about Patrick…”

Patrick laughs, “That’s very flattering but they’re all actual children.”

Olivia pats Art on his shoulder, “I heard some of them talking about you too. Having a crush on a counselor is like a right of passage if summer camp”

Art laughs, “I can’t say I remember ever having a crush on my camp counselor.”

Patrick looks over to Art, just examining him. He can definitely recall having a crush on a camp counselor.

…

Monday 8:30pm

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. Both Art and Patrick got through the rest of their day following their camp schedules and seeing each other in passing. Even though they weren’t together it was nice just knowing the other one was there. Art would never admit it but he may or may not have sneakily took a picture of Patrick’s schedule so he’d know which activities he was at. It’s not like he was going to stalk Patrick or anything but it was nice being able to glance over to where he was. Watching Patrick subconsciously weirdly soothed him? Like just knowing Patrick was there would help when he would get anxious about being a good camp counselor and actually do his job right. But he’s sure with time the anxiety will go away as he adjusts.

It was lights out time meaning all campers should be at least in the cabins by now. Meaning all counselors were also to report to their cabin. Olivia had mentioned that the counselors usually sneak out past curfew and hang out, smoke, and even drink together. She said they’d be hanging out in her cabin tonight around 9pm.

Back at their cabin, Art and Patrick had started getting ready. Art was fussing with his hair in the mirror like always, while Patrick was changing shirts.

“You always mess with your hair, you know it looks fine the way it is.” Patrick says as he picks up the white button shirt he’s going to put on.

“Just fine isn’t okay, I want it to look nice, I want to be presentable.” Art replies continue his fussing.

Patrick drops the shirt he was holding and walks over to Art who’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror. “Look at me.” Patrick directs while putting his hand on Art’s cheek to make Art face him.

Art looks into Patrick’s eyes, a little started. He watches as Patrick starts fiddling with his hair, moving some curls into place. He looks very focused from Art’s point of view. Patrick is also shirtless which is starting make Art blush for some reason. He doesn’t know why, he’s literally seen Patrick naked so what’s the fuss about? It reminds him of when he was staring at Patrick earlier that day at the pool. He looked really good, and Art was just…observing.

Patrick finishes up and turns Art’s face back towards the mirror. “There, better?”

Art nods. It really does look better, he doesn’t know how Patrick did it but he’s grateful he did. Art also realized how much he was actually blush-

“Aweeee did I make you blush, babe?” Patrick smirks as he walks back over to where he left his shirt.

Art shakes his head no but for some reason he’s blushing more? “No I am not, let’s just go”

~