#that would take. god that would take forever

[calypso-rt]

lodge retreat!

with the insufferable Rafe Cameron

-> Pt. 1: roadtrip!

-> Rafe x F!reader

-> read part 1 for context por favor i promise it's good

The second you step out of Rafe’s car, the crisp mountain air hits you: fresh pine, damp earth, the lingering chill of early morning. It would be breathtaking if you weren’t immediately tackled by a blur of white linen and wild curls.

“Oh my God,” Kiara shrieks, squeezing the life out of you. “I thought you died.”

You grunt, winded. “Good to see you too, Kie.”

JJ appears right behind her, grinning. “We were taking bets on how you’d show up. My money was on a dramatic helicopter entrance.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, my other option was walking, so.”

Kiara finally pulls back, eyes darting behind you, and when she sees who drove you here, her jaw drops.

“No.”

Rafe, ever the picture of smug confidence, leans against the car like he owns the entire lodge. “Yes,” he says smoothly.

Kiara turns to you in pure betrayal. “Him?”

You rub your temples. “It was him or missing your wedding.”

JJ claps Rafe on the back, laughing. “Damn, man. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What day?” Rafe asks, feigning innocence. “The day she begged me for a favor?”

Your nostrils flare. “It was not begging.”

Kiara gapes at the two of you, looking suspiciously between you and Rafe like she’s trying to solve an actual crime scene. “What the hell happened on that drive?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly.

“Everything,” Rafe says at the exact same time.

Kiara narrows her eyes. “Okay. We’ll circle back to that.”

Before you can protest, the wedding party descends, groomsmen, bridesmaids, old friends, enveloping you in greetings and chatter. And of course, Rafe slides into the mix way too easily, laughing with JJ, charming the bridal party like he belongs here.

Then, the worst thing imaginable happens.

One of the groomsmen nudges JJ and nods toward you and Rafe. “Damn. How long have they been a thing?”

You nearly choke. “We are not—”

“Oh, since forever,” Rafe says smoothly, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

JJ grins. “Right? About time they admitted it.”

Kiara looks ready to combust with questions. You? You’re mentally calculating the fastest way to throw yourself off the nearest mountain.

This weekend just got way more complicated.

...

“This has to be a joke,” you say flatly.

The front desk attendant offers you a sheepish smile. “I’m afraid not. Since you arrived late, the only room we have left is our Honeymoon Suite.”

You blink. Then blink again. “Our what?”

Next to you, Rafe lets out a low whistle, his amusement practically radiating off him. “Damn, sweetheart. Didn’t know we were taking the next step so soon.”

You elbow him in the ribs. Hard.

The attendant clears her throat. “It’s a king-sized bed, private balcony, en-suite jacuzzi…” She hesitates. “It’s also… heart themed.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Of course it is.”

Rafe, ever the menace, grins. “Sounds perfect.”

“It is not perfect,” you snap. “It’s a disaster.”

“C’mon,” he leans in, voice teasing. “What’s the worst that could happen? You fall madly in love with me?”

You glare. “I’d rather sleep in the car.”

The attendant winces. “Actually, overnight parking isn’t allowed on the premises.”

You curse under your breath.

“Guess that settles it,” Rafe hums, reaching for the key. “Honeymoon Suite it is.”

You stare at the room key in his hand, then at the front desk worker who clearly wants no part in this mess. Finally, with a deep sigh, you snatch your bag off the counter.

“This weekend just keeps getting better and better,” you mutter.

Rafe chuckles, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you stomp toward the suite. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the warmth creeping up your neck.

...

The second you step into the suite, you stop dead in your tracks.

“Oh. My. God.”

Rafe lets out a low whistle behind you. “This is… something.”

It’s worse than you imagined. Scratch that, it’s a nightmare.

The entire room is decked out in nauseatingly over-the-top romance décor. The bed is massive, covered in silky red sheets with actual rose petals scattered on top. There’s a heart-shaped jacuzzi in the corner, an abundance of dim mood lighting, and, just to really drive the point home, two fluffy white robes embroidered with Mr. and Mrs. hanging by the bathroom door.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter.

Rafe chuckles, strolling inside like he belongs there. “Gotta say, I’m kinda touched by the matching towels, wife.”

You glare. “I’m assuming divorce is included with the stay.”

He smirks, tossing his bag onto the bed. “Careful, sweetheart. Talk like that and people might think you actually like me.”

You throw your bag at him.

He catches it easily, laughing as he plops down onto the bed. “Gotta admit, this is kinda nice.” He bounces slightly. “Bed’s comfy.”

“You mean the bed,” you deadpan. “Singular. One.”

Just as you start looking for anywhere else to sleep, Rafe props himself up on his elbows. “You know,” he muses, “we could set some ground rules.”

You narrow your eyes. “Like what?”

He holds up a finger. “Rule one: no kicking me in your sleep.”

“Fine. Rule two: no hogging the covers.”

Rafe snorts. “Baby, I am the covers.”

You throw a pillow at him.

He laughs, catching it with ease, but then his expression softens. “Seriously, though,” he says, sitting up. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can take the couch.”

Your stomach flips. It’s the first time he’s dropped the teasing act, and for some reason, that throws you more than the heart-shaped bed.

You cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “It’s fine. We’re adults. We can survive one night.”

Rafe watches you for a beat, then nods. “Alright, sweetheart. Just don’t go falling in love with me in your sleep.”

You roll your eyes, but for the first time since stepping into the room… you don’t completely hate the idea.

...

The fire crackles, sending embers drifting into the cool mountain air. Laughter and music fill the night as people gather around, drinks in hand, wrapped in the golden glow of the flames.

You pull your sweater tighter around you, balancing a cup of something warm in your hands as you take in the scene. JJ and Kiara are at the center of it all: her curled up against his side, his arm slung over her shoulders, both of them grinning like they already know tomorrow will be the best day of their lives.

“Didn’t think they’d actually make it here, did you?”

Rafe’s voice is low, teasing, as he steps up beside you.

You smirk. “Oh, not a chance. I had a whole bet going on whether they’d call it off or elope somewhere at the last minute.”

He chuckles, nudging your shoulder. “And what was your money on?”

You take a sip of your drink. “Elope. With JJ’s track record? I figured he’d panic and drag Kie to Vegas.”

Rafe hums in agreement, watching as JJ dramatically dips Kiara in front of the fire, making her burst into laughter.

“They’re disgustingly cute,” you say, scrunching your nose.

“Painful to watch,” Rafe agrees.

A comfortable silence settles between you. The night is crisp, the fire warm, the stars impossibly bright against the inky sky. You steal a glance at Rafe. His profile sharp in the firelight, the usual smugness softened into something… calmer. Almost thoughtful.

He catches you looking. “What?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Before he can press, JJ’s voice booms across the clearing.

“Alright, listen up!” He stumbles a little as he climbs onto a log, lifting his beer like a toast. “Tomorrow’s a big day. Huge, actually. Probably the biggest day of my life—”

“Probably?” Kiara cuts in, arching a brow.

JJ grins. “Definitely the biggest day of my life.” He throws an arm around her, pressing a dramatic kiss to her temple before turning back to the group. “And I just wanna say… I love all you guys.”

A chorus of cheers erupts around the fire. Pope hollers, Sarah claps, and someone (probably John B) yells, “Simp!”

JJ flips them off. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But for real… wouldn’t wanna do this without you guys.” His gaze sweeps over the group, landing on you. “Even you,” he adds with a smirk.

You roll your eyes. “Wow, I’m honored.”

He winks, then shifts his attention to Rafe. “And you? Didn’t think I’d catch you dead at my wedding.”

Rafe smirks, tipping his beer in JJ’s direction. “What can I say? Your bride’s best friend begged me to be here.”

You elbow him, but JJ just cackles. “Now that I believe.”

The night stretches on. More drinks, more laughter, more warmth. At some point, you find yourself sitting next to Rafe on a log, legs stretched out toward the fire.

It’s easy, being here like this. The banter, the teasing, it’s all still there, but something’s different. Softer. Less sharp edges, more… something else.

You glance at Rafe again, and this time, he’s already looking at you.

Neither of you say anything. It doesn’t feel like you need to.

...

Rafe looks good in a suit. Too good. And it’s annoying.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That it shouldn’t matter. But as you glance across the ceremony space: rows of chairs lined up against the stunning mountain backdrop, JJ standing at the altar, fidgeting slightly as he waits for Kiara, you can’t help but notice the way Rafe carries himself.

The dark navy suit, perfectly tailored. The way his hair is effortlessly styled, like he barely tried but still somehow managed to look infuriatingly good.

You drag your gaze away, focusing on the moment. Kiara appears, breathtaking in her dress, and JJ’s jaw literally drops.

The ceremony is beautiful, full of soft vows and inside jokes and that overwhelming kind of love that makes your chest ache. You should be focused on them.

But every time you glance up, Rafe is already looking at you.

He doesn’t smirk like usual. Doesn’t tease. Just holds your gaze for a beat too long, like he’s reading every thought you don’t want to have right now.

You swallow hard and turn away.

Afterwards, the reception is in full swing. The string lights cast a golden glow over the outdoor dance floor, laughter and music filling the air. People are already tipsy, the speeches are done, and JJ is dramatically twirling Kiara around.

You’re nursing a drink, enjoying the moment, when someone slides up next to you.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You glance up at the guy, Nate something, a friend of the Pogues, someone you’ve talked to once or twice at parties. He’s charming enough, leaning in slightly, a slow smile on his face.

You smile back, making casual conversation. It’s harmless. Just friendly.

Until you feel a presence at your side.

You don’t see Rafe approach, but suddenly, he’s there. Close. The warmth of him practically pressing into your space as he casually—too casually—rests a hand on the small of your back.

“Nate,” Rafe says, voice smooth but cool. “Didn’t know you were still hanging around.”

Nate chuckles, clearly oblivious. “Could say the same about you, man.”

Rafe’s fingers press just slightly against your back, the touch light but unmistakable. “Yeah, well. Some things are worth sticking around for.”

You blink, glancing up at him. What the hell does that mean?

Nate hesitates, eyes flicking between the two of you. “Right. Well…” He offers you a quick smile. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as he’s gone, you turn to Rafe. “Okay, what was that?”

He doesn’t move his hand. If anything, he steps in closer, voice low in your ear.

“We were supposed to dance first.”

Your breath catches.

It’s not the words that get you, it’s the way he says them. The quiet intensity. The way his fingers linger, the way he looks at you like he’s just now realizing something himself.

You should pull away. Should roll your eyes and brush it off like you always do.

But for some reason, you don’t.

Then, the music shifts, something slower, something golden-hued and dreamlike, and Rafe takes it as a sign.

His fingers slide from the small of your back to your hand, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s leading you onto the dance floor. Your heart stutters as his palm finds your waist, the other curling around your fingers, holding you close but not too close.

“You’re serious about this?” you murmur, trying to sound unaffected, but your voice is softer than you mean for it to be.

Rafe smirks, tilting his head. “What, afraid I’ll step on your toes?”

You scoff, but the breathless feeling in your chest betrays you. He moves easily, naturally, guiding you in slow circles beneath the string lights. The world narrows to the warmth of his hand, the quiet push and pull between you.

“I thought you’d be terrible at this,” you admit.

He hums. “I’m full of surprises.”

The glow of the reception wraps around you both, the background noise fading into something distant, unimportant. His thumb brushes against the side of your hand absentmindedly, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Your gaze flickers up, catching the way he’s watching you, like you’re something worth memorizing.

“Some things are worth sticking around for,” he says again, softer this time.

And suddenly, you realize.

He wasn’t just talking about the party.

…

You wake up warm.

Which is strange, because you remember falling asleep on the farthest possible side of the bed, a clear, respectable distance from Rafe.

And yet, there’s an arm draped over your waist. A steady rise and fall against your back. The slow, even rhythm of his breathing, inches from your ear.

Oh.

You blink, still half-asleep, brain sluggish as it tries to process the situation. You should move. Should untangle yourself before he wakes up and starts smirking about it. But it’s early. So early the sun is barely creeping through the gauzy hotel curtains. And the bed is warm, and comfortable, and…

Rafe shifts behind you, murmuring something incoherent, his grip unconsciously tightening, pulling you closer.

You freeze.

Okay. Okay. This is fine.

Maybe if you just—

“Stop thinking so loud,” Rafe mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

Your breath catches. “I—”

His arm flexes slightly, like he’s debating letting go. But he doesn’t.

“You were hogging the covers,” he says, voice scratchy. “Had to do something.”

“You are the covers,” you murmur back before you can stop yourself.

A slow chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Told you.”

You should shove him away. You should, because this is ridiculous. But you don’t.

Instead, you let yourself relax, just for a second. Let yourself exist in this quiet moment, where neither of you are arguing, where his warmth seeps into your skin, where it’s easy to pretend that this—whatever this is—is normal.

A beat of silence.

Then—

“You drool in your sleep,” Rafe says, lips twitching.

You shove him. Hard.

He laughs, rolling onto his back as you sit up, yanking the covers away from him. “I do not.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” He stretches, arms over his head, looking far too smug for someone who was just cuddling you in his sleep. “Like, full-on, pillow soaking, completely unattractive—”

You grab one of the decorative heart-shaped pillows and smack him with it.

He grins, dodging easily, sitting up as you swing at him again. “Whoa, whoa… violence already? And here I thought we were having a moment.”

You glare, but your pulse is betraying you, thrumming a little too fast. “We were not having a moment.”

Rafe raises a brow, tilting his head. “No?”

“No,” you insist, scrambling off the bed. “It was the sleep deprivation. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

He hums, clearly unconvinced. “Right. That explains why you didn’t let go.”

You throw another pillow at him.

He just laughs, shaking his head as he watches you storm into the bathroom. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

And the worst part?

You can still feel the ghost of his arm around you.

Taglist: @drewstarkeyslover, @honeybee270, @melsbels-zip, @rafeycameronsgf, @vanessa-rafesgirl, @amel1ee

(tagged everyone asking abt a pt 2) <3

[alyimoss]

YES YES YES IVE NOTICED THIS BEFORE!!!! the reverse is also true: chara calls asgore dad, but toriel is just toriel. both have a parent theyre closest with

that does make me think tho like. frisk seems to me like he would either call both parents just by their name or call both mom and dad. not pick one and leave the other. hes shown to be more considerate of the residents of xtale in later timelines than chara, whos grown much more disillusioned, hateful, and violent. chara has way fewer problems treating people more poorly because in his mind the end justifies the means and as long as the goal hes working toward is noble (which. it at first is but later twists into something completely different. but i think he still considers it noble and the "best outcome for everyone" and thats ahat matters most to him) any horrible thing he does is completely fine. hes playing on the same battlefield as xgaster, after all, so he has to adopt his same tactics. frisk, though also shown to have grown more hateful and violent and disillusioned, shows a lot more hesitation in using and/or hurting the residents of xtale.

anyway, all that to say that he just doesnt rlly strike me as the type of guy to just exclude one parent, especially if it hurts/saddens them. like i could be completely wrong and hes just got a preference contrasting charas bc siblings, but. idk.

bc chara not calling toriel mom immediately makes me think of timeline III. the timeline right after the one where chara got the father figure he yearned for. it was the first timeline to use underswap as a base instead of the original timeline. in the episode, we see both frisk and chara sitting in toriels lap. frisk is chatting happily with her, but chara looks livid

i wonder if chara refuses to call toriel mom because she hasnt been the mother he knew for so, so long. she doesn't even know it. and swap toriel taking asgores role and some if not all of his personality (depending on the interpretation), it probably felt to chara like she was trying to replace asgore. a shoddy stand in, smiling at him almost in mockery as he has to mourn the death of his father alone because noone except for him, frisk, xgaster, and alphys even know he died. for all the other residents of xtale, that series of events never happened.

toriel asks him whats wrong and he has to fight the urge to snap at her, to yell at her that she knows. she knows and shes mocking him. that shell never be him. that she shouldnt have ever dared to do something like this so close to his death. and he only barely holds that all in because he knows shes not doing this on purpose. she doesnt know what happened. she didnt ask to be remade in someone else's image. she doesn't even know she has been

the whole situation fuels his hatred of xgaster more, because now more than ever he feels like hes being toyed with. first it was just the world. just seeing what changed. and then one of the most precious things to him was taken from him by the very man who promised him the world, a marionette facsimile dangling by strings from the claws chara couldve sworn he didnt always have.

and again, its not toriels fault. but it leaves such a strong impression on him that she forever changes in his eyes. shes no longer the loving mother. shes someone who doesnt belong, someone he doesnt recognize as his own. she changed from who she was when she WAS his mom, all the way back in timelines I and II, and the mother he loved is dead. gone. erased. irreplaceable. and no matter what xtoriel does, chara can never bring himself to call her mom again

and, on the contrary, he latches to asgore hard. because hes also changed, hes not exactly as he remembers him, but hes back. hes alive. hes still asgore and hes still his father and he missed him so much. he doesnt care about the smaller details, nothing matters except the fact that his father is back. that the man who gave him hope and support and company when he felt so crushingly lonely under the weight of losing his world is back, and that means chara isnt alone anymore. hes not hopeless. and he holds to that tiny hope as tight as he can

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[tragic-ships-tournament]

Tragic Ships Tournament: FINAL ROUND

Propaganda under the cut!

Orphydice:

"y'all probably know the story of orpheus and eurydice. but they are SO tragedy. they are TEXTBOOK tragedy. they redefined the genre. on their literal wedding day as she's walking down the aisle eurydice gets bit by a snake and dies. orpheus loves her so much he goes down to the underworld to try and save her. hades allows him to take her back to the land of the living, as long as she walks behind him, and he cannot look back, otherwise her soul will be taken. he's mostly fine , but begins to doubt and at the very end of the tunnel, he looks back. they lock eyes for a moment before she disappears back into hell. orpheus is then so distraught that he wanders the earth singing mournful melodies and gets stoned to death by some nymphs who think his sad songs are bumming them out. DUUUUDE their story consumed my every waking thought as a child."

Madohomu:

"madoka magica aired 12 episodes in 2011, with a sequel movie titled “rebellion” released in 2014. it’s been over 10 years since then, and these two have become the face of yuri. if someone makes a meme about loving yuri and makes a collage of example ships, madohomu are 100% gonna be present. video essays, fanart, fics, music videos and all kinds of fan projects featuring them are still wildly popular on all social media platforms.

but let’s talk about them (without going into too many spoilers, so this will be about the thematics in their relationship). they are light and darkness. the ying and the yang. forever intertwined. one would not exist without the other, yet they cannot exist together. for madoka has too much love for every living thing and too little for herself. and homura has too much love for madoka it blinds her to everything and everyone else, and she struggles with deep self-hatred. madoka has forsaken her own existence for the world, and homura has forsaken the world she created for her. the show has a lot of religious imagery, and madoka is akin to a god; there’s a shot of homura, who grew up catholic, kneeling at the feet of a gigantic statue of madoka, praying, but her hands stain her clothes. because if madoka is god, then homura is lucifer - specifically, iblis, the muslim version of lucifer, who loved god so much he betrayed him, for he’d rather defy him than bow to his creation, humans. and homura would rather defy the sanctity of madoka’s wish, rather than obey its laws, for she will take madoka’s happiness in her hands, if she refuses to. in the movie, dolls representing homura’s inner machinations yell, “gott ist tot”, for homura’s god, madoka, dies in the movie, when homura remembers that madoka was human first, and godhood was something she reached to save everyone, against her best interest and happiness. their relationship is one of love, kindness, obsession, devotion, hope, faith, worship - they are the thesis and the antithesis, the beginning and the end, the alpha and omega, an unstoppable force and an immovable object. forever locked in a struggle, never fully embracing, for madoka will always sacrifice herself for the world, and homura will always doom the world and herself for madoka."

[star2fishmeg]

i can’t even lie i’m the biggest fan of angst to comfort with luke, could you possibly do something with that💕:)

His door opens cautiously, curls unruly and slept on, t-shirt crumpled but when his sleepy eyes fall upon you, he stands up straight, instantly flattening his hair with his palm and opening the door wider. He can't decide whether you look miserable or relieved, your lips quivering yet your shoulders are perfectly relaxed. Hell, he just woke up from a nap, he can't decide anything.

"Y/n? What are you doing- I thought you were going on that date?" he croaks, voice husky. He steps aside, allowing you to shuffle in and remove your shoes.

You're inside a safety net. You feel your eyes well and meet Luke timidly. His face softens, strong arms engulfing you, and suddenly, the world falls silent, and the wall you built crumbles in his hold. Your ear presses to his chest, the tears falling from your eyes soaking into his t-shirt. His grip tightens, his hand stroking your hair delicately.

"...I cancelled. It's over. I made the wrong choice, Lu." You cry with a breaking voice, but you're crying and let the emotions pour out your chest with heat flushed to your cheeks, "I'm such a fucking idiot."

If hearts could physically shatter, Luke's would have. Into a million finite pieces on the floor. His feet start moving backwards, yours following his guidance until his knees hit the sofa, pulling you onto his lap, swinging your legs over and cradling your body to his chest.

His words are gentle and thoughtful, his tone calm and his heart thunders in his chest. You've come to him. Expected considering you've been good friends since college, but you came to him for comfort. "No, no, you're not an idiot. Talk to me, I'm all ears. Why'd you cancel? You were so excited."

God, you hate that he was right. You were excited. The butterflies, the compliments, the dates, they were fun, they felt good, filled with adoration. Yet, the guy never felt right. Like an imposter, like you were supposed to be sharing those moments with someone else, someone who loved you regardless of anything. Someone who actually had an interest in you.

"I thought about it. I thought I was excited but turns out not about the guy, he’s not…he’s not anything to me. All the fun little dates were exciting, spending time and just, I don't know, being part of these other couples around me, but honestly..." your sobbing stutters as your tears roll violently down your cheeks, but it's hard to fall apart when Luke's cradling you so securely.

You tilt your chin up, peering up at him with red eyes but he's already gazing at you. He brushes loose strands of your hair out of your face, with such a featherlight touch it feels like he's sporting a halo above his head. He cups your cheek and his thumb soothing over your cheekbone slows your heartbeat back to stability.

"I wasn't as excited anymore after I left you the other day. It kinda just...faded. I thought I'd give it a chance but...I couldn't. It wasn't the same, Luke." You calmly confess, gaze shifting to his lips before back into his eyes, those forever glossy eyes you find yourself unable to look away from. The eyes that only ever pay attention to you and you know that you've seen that.

He swallows hard with flustered cheeks, "So, you dressed all pretty just to come here?"

"Wanted to see you..." it takes a moment for you to process his words, his touch against your skin so gentle it's intoxicating and has your brain dizzy. With a voice above a whisper, "You think I look pretty?"

Luke nods slowly but surely, licking his lips and searching your eyes for something of an opportunity. His stomach flutters and he's certain, certain that he knows where this is headed and that he can finally find peace within himself.

"Always, since I met you. Miss you every time you leave. Jealous whenever you went on a date. Wanna be with you all the time…just want…you."

Your fingertips lightly press to his jaw on instinct, "...you were the right choice. But I was scared of...ruining us."

His lips pull up into a small smile, chest blooming with warmth and it's as if the world has burst into colours. He's only ever dreamed of this moment, where you're in his arms and telling him that this whole time, you've felt something back. You thought you'd cry again, yet the smile on his face only encouraged your own, fingers sliding down his neck to tangle in the curls at his nape.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, m'right here. All yours, I've got you." He leans in, and you're leaning in too like magnets until soft lips meet for a tender kiss. A genuine one that's closed mouth and long-awaited with yearning.

When you both pull away, gazes locked, hands on each other, he dips back into you, passionately this time and you're keeping him in, close. You had your suspicions, yet what were you so afraid of if Luke's feelings were blatantly obvious?

[euphoria-looney]

Idk if you’ve seen Nosferatu but I think a situation like that could totally apply to (Name).

Brief overview:

In Nosferatu, the main character Ellen grows up feeling lonely and isolated. She pleads for a supernatural being to arrive and comfort her and she wakes up ‘Nosferatu’ who makes her pledge herself to him fully. There’s loads of other stuff as well but I think this main idea would be interesting. Nosferatu in the movie is really, really old and ugly, but I think (Name) deserves a fit, hot vampire boyfriend/husband. But essentially he’s like a Vampire Count, aka Dracula.

How it’s play out:

(Name),as a young child, calls out for ‘Nosferatu’ (or whatever name the vampire will have) and he wakes up. He makes them pledge their complete loyalty to him for all eternally, essentially making them his ‘bride’. (Name) is comforted by him, but this connection fades as they grow older.

Then, when they turn 18, Nosferatu calls out for them in their dreams and travels to Gotham, keeping them in his manor. He’s basically a yandere in the movie anyway, so (Name) is kept quite weak and docile due to his mind control, spending most of their time doting on him or sleeping.

Now, I think it’d be interesting for the Batfam to react because the thing about Nosferatu is that the oath to him MUST be consensual, give or take MAJOR manipulation, but still, (Name) has to willingly go with him. So the Batfam have to come to terms with the fact that (Name) literally chose an obsessive, undead (but fit) vampire husband over them.

And ‘Nosferatu’ is NOT going to play fair if they try and take his bride. Literally no Dracula variant does.

I Asked For a Friend, But Got a Husband?

"I sense her in my mind, she's my collar" She's My Collar (feat. Kali Uchis)

So Much More. (Should I name this something new? Since it's a different AU?)

Special (?)

Divider Creds: @anitalenia and @qqmariztwsse

Being young, barely seen or heard, I could only busy myself with books. Even then how many books could I read before feeling that loneliness knaw on me?

Okay, dramatic I knew but who knew this one feeling would lead me to immediately get married by the age of eighteen?

I know how bad that sounds, trust me, I was the one who experienced it.

"What are you thinking about right now, honey?" I felt arms wrap around me.

Meet Elzire.

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

"Nothing much," I replied looking through our mail.

How we met, well I believe it because of this, but don't take my word for it, I might just be delusional.

I had gone to the library and saw [D/D] she ecstatically waved to me before Damian pulled her away giving me a sneer. I waved that off and looked around before spotting a book that I’d never seen before. 

It had a blood red cover and the title ‘Forever’, curious, I opened it. It seemed like a child's story as they had short sentences and photos. It starts with a girl who, one day after being tired of being lonely prays to the gods of her world she doesn’t care who or what they sent no matter what they looked like or how they acted as long as they were her friends, and nice to her at least, she would be happy.

Then it happened, a boy her age descended to her and every day they would play before growing old together.

The end.

I put the book back before returning to what I was originally doing, studying for my next exam.

— 

It had been a good week since I read that fantasy child’s book, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I went to the library at night when everyone was either on a mission or asleep and to my surprise the book was gone.

Someone must’ve thrown it out, there’s no reason to keep it here anyone.

I let out a sigh before heading back to my room and though I accepted the book was gone I couldn’t help but wonder, could I do that?

No, that’d be silly.

But…

It never hurts anyone to try.

“Please, whoever is out there, please accompany me and become the pillar I can lean on.” 

.

..

…

Welp I tried, back to sleep I have a piano recital tomorrow no time for these goofy beliefs.

3RD POV

 A figure descended into [name]’s room their black hair fluttered from the wind and their red eyes and fangs glistened in the dark of night, their hands like claws before stepping into the light a little more revealing a tall yet built man he looked angelic despite being a vampire that was friends with a demon, specially Barbatos.

He creeps a little closer to [name]’s room crouching to caress their faces. Making them blink open their eyes.

“... Am I still dreaming?” They question themself. Making the vampire chuckle holding their hands in his and asking.

“Do you mind becoming mine forever?”

“Woah, my wish worked… sure, why not.” He smiled happily placing one of their hands on his cheeks and relished in the warmth that their hand brought to his freezing complexion.

Before they had passed out.

He caught them before they could slam back onto their bed and gently laid them down.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

—

Holy crap what was that dream? 

Maybe I shouldn’t mind it. 

For the next few years, nothing changed except my dreams. Then I turned eighteen and it was out of pure luck that I met him, his name was Elzire.

We got married that same year after a few months of dating which I was totally against but then he convinced me and it hasn’t been like our marriage has been going great. I don’t like that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife.

Don’t get me wrong I appreciate him wanting this for me because he doesn’t want any workload on me but I just feel that it’s unfair for him.

Too bad the only payment he wants from me is to do simple household things but even that he just hires some housecleaning or helpers instead of letting me do it and when he comes home to get his pillow, it’s nice to play with his hair, might be better than mine.

Today again though I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing to do as I finished everything, it’s not hard when only two people are living in this house.

I went to look through the mail before finding a letter addressed to me.

It’s from Alfred, but I had never told him where I moved… It’s fine, this is Alfred we’re talking about.

“Dear young master, [name], 

How have you been? It's been 7 years since we last saw you or contacted you, I managed to get a glimpse of you and was able to deliver this to you.

Your family has long awaited meeting you again, if you could give them the chance to see you that would be lovely.

Sincerely, 

Alfred Pennyworth.”

I looked over my shoulder to Elzire before responding.

“I got a letter from my old butler Alfred, saying that my family would like to meet with me again.”

“So suddenly, darling?” He raised his eyebrow at that. Seems he was as lost as I was. I told him everything like he was my therapist so he knew too well himself why this wouldn’t make sense.

-

Despite my hesitance, I decided to go.

"Really Sweetie, you don't have to this isn't something that I would waste my time on, so neither should you." One hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my hand.

"Come on, El, I'm curious, 23 years of my life and only now do they care to see me. Wouldn't you also wonder why?"

"Wonder, not meet. but because I love you and I care for you we'll still go." He squeezed my hand a bit before softening his grip again.

We pulled up on the driveway and saw Alfred come out of the manor.

Elzire got out of the car first before opening the door for me, helping me get out.

I approached Alfred before bringing him into an embrace.

"Alfie, it's been so long." I pulled away before directing his attention to Elzire.

"This is Elzire."

"Pleasure to meet you, young sir." Alfred did his bow before leading us to the living room where the whole family was.

"[name]" [M/D] whispered, tears welling up in her eye, standing up and starting to approach me.

I smiled but didn't reciprocate the hug she was trying to give me.

"[name], we realized our mistake. it's time to come home." Bruce told me.

"Well, as much as I'm... grateful for that offer, I've already moved on and had a life, where you guys no longer matter or are related to me anymore."

"What are you-"

"This is my husband, Elzire. And I don't plan to leave him, for this."

Guys I quit on this if you couldn't notice the ending was rushed so badly, I'm so sorry to the one who sent the request I know this isn't what you would like but I kind of had a mind exploration, and now I have no idea what or how to write this request.

Maybe I'll rewrite this in the future but for now, this is the main result. If you were looking for a confrontation. It's kind of the situation of this Special.

Genuinely y'all could make your own or imagine this scenario. I have no idea what I'm doing anyway, thank you so much for reading this I don't think I'm tagging anybody on this and supporting other batfam authors, especially with all the hate that I've been seeing Luckily I haven't received anything.

Bye-bye, if anything is too unclear and grammatically wrong inform me!

Elzire:

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

-ILoveeeMoney

[be4chywritez]

shot to the heart (and the nose) | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

You come home from college and Luke is smitten...maybe a little too smitten

beachy’s masterlist🐚

requests are open!

part two!

Growing up next door to the Hughes family meant one thing—hockey was a religion.

It was loud, it was competitive, and it was everywhere. If the Hughes brothers weren’t on the ice, they were playing in the driveway, tracking in mud from the lake, or tossing pucks against the garage door until Ellen threatened to take their sticks away.

And you?

You were the neighbor kid. Not quite in the mix, but not completely out of it either.

Your families were close—vacations together, barbecues in the summer, Christmas parties in the winter. You and the Hughes boys had spent years at each other’s birthday parties, running through sprinklers, roasting marshmallows, and competing over who could eat the most popsicles before Jim made you all go inside.

But if hockey was the Hughes brothers’ thing, quiet was yours.

Luke, in particular, had always been the opposite of quiet. He was the one making up rules for backyard games, the one yelling over everyone else, the one who would get so frustrated when you’d rather sit and watch than dive into the chaos.

He never bullied you for it, not in the way other kids might have, but he pushed—nudging you toward the action, insisting you could keep up, making sure you weren’t left out.

Jack and Quinn weren’t much different. Jack, the natural show-off, would always try to impress you (even if you weren’t watching), and Quinn, forever the responsible older brother, would make sure you didn’t get completely trampled by their energy.

Then, of course, you all grew up.

You spent high school buried in books and extracurriculars, aiming for an Ivy League acceptance letter. Luke spent it on the ice, chasing the NHL dream.

By senior year, your friendship had faded into nothing more than polite nods and see you at Christmas waves across the room.

And then you left for college.

Luke got drafted.

Life moved on.

Coming home after months at school was weird.

The air smelled the same, the roads felt the same, but you didn’t feel the same. Maybe it was the time away, or maybe it was the fact that being home again made you realize just how much things had changed.

The car rumbled up your street, your mom chatting about how good it is to have you back while you stared out the window.

And across the driveway, in the Hughes' kitchen, three heads turned in unison.

Jack was the first to react. He dropped his sandwich. Fully dropped it. “Holy shit.”

Quinn, still chewing, furrowed his brows. “What?”

Luke didn’t say anything, just stared.

Because there you were, climbing out of the car—same face, same features, but different.

College had done something to you. Or maybe you’d just grown into yourself.

Jack nudged Luke’s arm, grinning. “Dude. You seeing this?”

Luke was seeing it. That was the problem.

You were tan, your hair was different, your shorts were short, and fuck, had your legs always looked like that?

“Oh my god,” Quinn muttered, leaning against the counter. “Luke, close your mouth.”

Luke snapped his mouth shut, scowling. “Shut up.”

Jack just smirked. “Bet she still won’t talk to you.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

A few days later, you were walking up your driveway when you spotted Luke in his front yard.

He had his shirt on this time (unfortunately so) wearing a Team USA tee with the sleeves cut off, and ripping shots into the net with a ridiculous amount of force.

You should’ve known better.

Really, you should have known better.

Because one second, he was shooting.

And the next—

Crack.

Right to the face.

“Holy shit!”

Luke dropped his stick so fast it clattered against the pavement. In seconds, he was in front of you, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I didn’t see you,” he rambled, eyes darting between your nose and your expression. “Are you—holy shit, you’re bleeding.”

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your face. “Luke. What the fuck.”

“I swear I didn’t see you—”

“No shit.”

Luke winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair.” He ripped his shirt off in one smooth motion, bunching it up before carefully pressing it against your nose. “Here, hold this.”

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“Sacrificed my shirt for you? Yeah.”

“Oh, so chivalrous.”

Luke huffed out a laugh, tilting your chin up slightly to examine the damage. His hands were warm, calloused from years of hockey, and being this close to him was… distracting.

His eyes flickered over your face, studying you.

“You look… different,” he murmured, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You swallowed. “So do you.”

Luke smirked. “Yeah?”

And that was when you realized—he was still holding your chin.

And smiling at you.

And looking so unfairly good doing it.

You exhaled sharply. “Quit smiling at me.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I feel weird.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

His grin widened, slow and lazy. “Huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said easily. “Just thinking I should smile at you more often.”

You groaned, shoving his chest. “Oh my god.”

Luke just laughed, but then his expression sobered. “C’mon, let’s go inside. Mom’ll kill me if I leave you out here bleeding.”

Before Luke could even pull you up, the door to the Hughes house slammed open.

Jack and Quinn came speed-walking—borderline running—toward you, eyes bouncing between Luke, you, and the blood dripping down your face.

Jack, of course, spoke first.

“Oh my god, did Luke hit you?”

You groaned, still pressing Luke’s (formerly white) Team USA shirt to your nose. “You say that like he didn’t just slapshot a puck into my face.”

Quinn sighed, looking so unimpressed. “Jesus, Luke.”

Luke, still crouched next to you, lifted his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t see her! I was just—”

Jack cackled, pointing at Luke like he’d just won the lottery. “You obliterated her!”

“Jack,” you deadpanned. “Not helping.”

Jack waved you off. “No, no, because this is insane. You come back from college looking totally different, and the second Luke sees you, he shoots his shot—literally.”

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Jack, I swear to—”

Jack ignored him. “I mean, I knew he was gonna lose it when he saw you again, but this—this is next level.”

Luke shoved him. “Can you shut up?”

Quinn, ever the responsible older brother, rolled his eyes. “Alright, let’s get her inside before she passes out in our driveway.”

Jack smirked. “Or before Luke confesses his love again.”

Luke shoved him harder.

You just sighed.

The moment you stepped into the house, the familiar warmth of the Hughes home hit you—laundry detergent, whatever Quinn had been cooking earlier, and a faint trace of hockey gear.

And then—

“Oh my god!”

Ellen practically flew down the stairs, eyes zeroing in on your face.

Jim followed behind her, frowning. “Jesus, what happened?”

Jack, still very much enjoying the situation, grinned. “Oh, you know. Luke saw her for the first time in, like, a year and immediately tried to take her out.”

Luke groaned. “That is not what happened.”

Ellen, ignoring them, cupped your face as gently as she could, careful not to touch your nose. “Sweetheart, oh my gosh! You’re hurt!”

Jack, ever the instigator, added, “She is hurt, but also—she looks amazing, right?”

Ellen’s eyes flickered over your face—well, the parts of it that weren’t covered in blood—and beamed. “Oh, honey, you are stunning! Look at you! College has done wonders for you.”

You blinked. “Uh—”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Ellen, she’s bleeding.”

Ellen waved him off. “Yes, yes, I see that, but look at how grown up she is!” She turned to Quinn. “Quinn, tell me she doesn’t look gorgeous.”

Quinn, handing Luke an ice pack, huffed out a laugh. “She does.”

Jack smirked. “Luke sure thinks so.”

Luke whipped around. “Jack, I will actually—”

Jim chuckled, finally stepping in. “Alright, El, let’s fix her up before we start matchmaking.”

Luke, still looking like he desperately wanted to disappear, guided you to the kitchen table and sat you down. “Okay, let me—uh—yeah, just—” He fumbled with the ice pack, hands slightly shaky.

You raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah. Just—quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like—” Luke exhaled sharply. “Like that.”

You smirked. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

Jack howled. Quinn raised his eyebrows.

Ellen gasped like this was the best news she had heard all day.

Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

Luke groaned.

And you?

You just smiled.

It was going to be a great summer.

part two!

[spinfins]

The Lighthouse is full of surprises, you guys. The Dread Wolf was a hoarder of some very strange shit.

Like the self stirring spoons Lucanis found and banished from the kitchen because they only stirred Allegro.

Or the box Assan and Manfred found that switched the gravity. THAT is an interesting story.

But this one is about Bellara. She is so curious. So very, very curious. And the Lighthouse is FULL of surprises.

So when Bellara finds the little owl statue, she touches it. It’s fine, Rook touches owl statues all the time. It's not covered in any complex machinery, or ominous magical auras. So she touches it.

And then she’s on the floor, and suddenly everything else is ten times as big as it used to be.

Oh dear, she tries to say, and hoots in alarm instead.

Emmrich is quite busy when Manfred brings the tiny owl to him. “Very nice, my dear,” he says in a way Manfred knows means he is not actually paying attention.

‘No,’ Manfred hisses insistently, thrusting the tiny feathery ball under his face, ‘Important.’

“Why yes, she is a lovely specimen of the Micrathene Whitneyi, colloquially known as the ‘Elf owl.’ And she is also perfectly healthy and very agitated. You should put her back,” Emmrich says, and does not notice the owl or Manfred glaring at him.

They go to Neve next. Neve is smart. Neve notices things even Emmrich misses.

“Hey Fred, what’s that you’ve got there?”

Manfred hisses and presents the little owl where she is perching on his bare boney fingers.

“Oh isn’t that cute!” Neve says in a high-pitched tone she would never display to anyone but a wisp or tiny animals (they’re in the same category really.) “Say, Fred. Have you seen Bel? I need to ask her a question.”

They go to Rook, because surely Rook of all people will know how to fix this. Rook fixes everything.

“Oh! Gods no!” Rook flails over the back of the couch and scrambles away like a crab. “Take it to Emmrich, Fred! Take it to Emmrich!”

Hmmm. Perhaps Rook has been touching too many owl statues.

They are at a loss. Manfred takes Bellara back into the courtyard and stands undecided. Will she be a tiny fluffy owl forever? There are worse fates, they suppose.

Then Bellara pops back, cradled in the skeleton’s bony arms as he hisses in surprise.

“It’s some sort of cloaking device!” She squeals, “It has a timing mechanism! It must have worn off by itself. And it's powerful enough it fooled your dad!”

Manfred puts her down and hisses excitedly.

“Let’s go try it again!”

Needless to say, Emmrich pays much better attention when not one, but two little owls return to his lab, one composed entirely of bone.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Jason Todd x gn mean!reader

I love you mean!reader take jason by the balls like he deserves

(Short, fluff, established relationship)

Swearing, no use of y/n

———

“Shit.” The knife slips off the onion yet again and Jason feels like driving it into the countertop. Instead, he takes another go at the onion and almost nicks his finger.

He throws the knife onto the cutting board with a clatter. This is so fucking stupid. Jason is exhausted and starving and at his wit’s end. All he wants is to make himself some pasta, why can’t he cut this goddamn onion?

It isn’t helping that he came home pissed to begin with. The night was a complete waste of his time. He’s spent weeks sniffing around for one of Bane’s weapons shipments and finally tracked it down to a warehouse on the south side. Jason had got himself all gussied up to go in guns blazing, but he kicked in the door of an empty warehouse. They had already cleared the fuck out, they were one step ahead of him. It was so goddamn embarrassing, all he could do was shuffle home in the rain and try not to picture how Bane was probably laughing at him.

And now even this onion is getting the best of him. Can’t Jason have anything?

He perks up as he hears the clank of your key in the lock. You’re home, thank god. He abandons the onion and goes to meet you at the door.

“Hey, babe.” Your cheeks are pink from the cold. Jason ignores your words and pulls you into his arms, jamming his face into your neck. Your hand comes up to card through his hair. “Huh. Rough night?”

He grunts, and you huff out a laugh. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It was so fucking stupid,” he mutters. “How was your work dinner?”

“Fine. Nothing to report. Drinks went on forever.” You slide your fingers under his shirt and pinch at his waist. “You eat yet?”

“Hm.” He bites lightly at your neck. You tug sharply at his hair. “C’mon, Jay, you have to eat.” You gently shove him aside so you can slip out of your coat and slip off your shoes.

“‘M trying to,” he sulks.

You raise your eyebrows. “Well, what does that mean?”

He sighs, gesturing toward the kitchen, and you go investigate. “Couldn’t cut the fucking onion,” he grumbles. It’s so annoying; normally he’s not a complete idiot in the kitchen, but tonight his skills are failing him.

“Ah,” you say as you approach the cutting board. “Well, unfortunately, you’ve done it wrong.” You take his place at the countertop. Grabbing the knife, you hold it to the onion but then stop, turning to squint at him. “You want me to do it?”

Jason looks at you blankly. You nod. “You want me to show you how to do it or just do it?”

He smiles ruefully. “Good.” You start slicing. “Didn’t want to teach you anything, anyway.”

Jason sighs contentedly, putting his arms around your waist and leaning into your back. Your work steadily for a few minutes, before nudging him with your shoulder. “What were you going to put in the sauce?”

“Garlic,” Jason shrugs. “Onion.”

“Hm. It would be better with cherry tomatoes. And white wine.”

“Mm.”

“Go get the tomatoes. And the wine from the fridge,” you order. Jason blows meaningfully at your neck. “Please,” you add.

Jason knocks his head lightly against yours, then goes to get the requested ingredients. Soon, you’re frying up the onions, garlic, and tomatoes, pouring in some white wine, and setting some water to boil. Jason half-heartedly offers to help, but you take one look at him and wave him off. Fifteen minutes later you’re handing him a fork and sliding a bowl of pasta his way.

He digs in hastily. “Thanks, babe.”

You smile in satisfaction, stealing his fork to take a bite. “Hm. Pretty good.”

Jason wolfs it down before getting up for seconds. He grins at you, and you smile softly back. “Fuckin’ delicious.”

“Damn right. I’m gonna shower.” You move toward the bedroom, pulling your shirt over head. Jason gets momentarily distracted by your bare skin.

“Tsk.” He glances at your face, you’re smirking at him. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

“Can’t blame me for lookin’, sweetheart.” Jason smiles cockily at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Finish your dinner.” You turn back to the bathroom.

He picks up his fork. “I’m cleaning up,” he offers.

“You bet you are.” Jason grins cheekily, and you disappear into the bathroom.

———

He needs to be bullied.

[runninriot]

when it's love, it lasts forever

another fill for my @steddiebingo card

prompt: mixtape | rated: T | wc: 1.733 | tags: post Vecna, established relationship, romantic fluff, reminiscing about the past | also on ao3

   “Oh my God!”

Eddie’s stunned voice filters in from the other room, causing Steve to stop what he’s doing. He sighs, feels mocked by the piles of clothes still scattered around the room, waiting to be organised into the newly put up dresser.

Steve cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, trying to ignore the dull ache in his muscles. He is tired. Exhausted from the long drive, physically drained from loading and unloading the van, from carrying boxes and furniture – there’s so much that still needs to be done, which is why he hates to leave his task unfinished.

But curiosity wins, so he walks into the living room to find his boyfriend sitting on the floor with his back turned, surrounded by boxes he was supposed to unpack. Instead of him stacking up the bookshelf like he said he would, it seems like something else must’ve caught his attention. Not that that’s new; Eddie gets so easily distracted sometimes. Steve doesn’t mind, has long since learned to keep up with his boyfriend’s antics – he’ll get there eventually and a little distraction doesn’t hurt anyone.

   “What you got there, babe?” Steve asks when he walks closer, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder to see what’s gotten him all excited.

   “I can’t believe you still have that.”

Eddie blinks up at him with big, round eyes that have gone all soft, revealing the small treasure he’s cradling in his hands.

It takes Steve a moment to recognise it but when he does, his heart does a little flip.

   “Oh.”

He crouches down to get to Eddie’s level, can’t help but smile when his eyes catch the familiar drawings on the paper inlay peeking through the plastic case – the two bats in the centre, one with nails and one with wings; a heart in the top left corner with their initials in its middle, and a scatter of flowers to fill the empty space. Eddie’s handwriting at the top, ‘THIS IS MUSIC!’ screaming back at them in bold letters.

   “Of course, I kept it,” Steve finally says after clearing his throat, feeling oddly sentimental now. “I kept all of them. Everything.”

It’s true. Steve has kept every little piece of memorabilia he collected over the years. From the movie theatre ticket stub of their first unofficial date to the little note Eddie had left after spending the night at Steve’s for the first time. From the faded and wrinkled flyer of the first Corroded Coffin show Steve ever went to, to the mixtape in Eddie’s hands.

Maybe he should feel embarrassed about it, but instead of making fun of him for being such a sap, Eddie just smiles, eyes so full of love that Steve’s insides turn into a mushy, gooey mess.

   “This one’s my favourite,” he confesses, stroking a thumb over the case whose scratched surface shows all the signs of passing time and overuse.

   “It was all I listened to for weeks.”

He’s not even exaggerating, knows every song on the tape by heart from listening to it on repeat. Played the cassette so many times it’s a miracle it didn’t break, unwind or outright combust.

   “God, I remember how nervous I was to give it to you. So scared you’d hate it.”

Steve remembers, too, can see it so clearly before his mind’s eye.

After spending months in physical recovery – after Death had unsuccessfully tried to snuff out his life – Eddie had finally gotten the all clear from his doctors. ‘I’m as good as new,’ he’d announced when he entered the Harrington home, a six-pack of beer in one hand, joking about being ready to get drunk on his first sip after having been forced into abstinence for so long.

Eddie and Steve had become quite close during their time of healing, when everything kind of seemed on hold while Hawkins slowly came out of the state of shock it had been trapped in for months.

For the most part, people had thankfully remained unaware of the true horrors, eating up the highly dubious cover-up stories they’d been fed by the government. But Steve and Eddie and their little band of misfits had a lot of coping to do. Kept holding on to each other, finding strength in the support of their tightly knit circle of friends to deal with all the shit they’d been through together.

Despite everything, Steve would be lying if he said that he wished none of it ever happened because without it, he never would’ve learned what true happiness feels like. Would’ve never gotten to know Eddie the way he had after the almost-end of the world.

It was then, in their time of dealing with the aftermath of their final war against hell, something had started to sprout and bud inside of Steve.

Something that grew and kept growing until it was in full bloom, impossible to ignore anymore. Until, with a bang and a crisis and a lot of emotional support from Robin, Steve finally realised that what had blossomed over time, was actually love. Love born out of trauma and friendship and trust and survival.

They hadn’t talked about it then, that day Eddie came to celebrate his newly recovered life with him. But even though his own feelings had yet to be formed into words to be spoken aloud, Steve had noticed a shift in Eddie’s demeanour over the course of their growing closeness. Had this lingering impression that maybe he wasn’t the only one having to deal with a riot of unsorted, confusing feelings.

He could sense how nervous Eddie was that day. Could feel the crackling tension between them when they were sitting side by side on the back porch, brushing fingers when passing their shared cigarette from one to the other.

    ‘Got something for you,’ Eddie had said after finishing his beer, cheeks red, eyes cast down to where his right hand kept playing with the pocket of his jean vest.

   ‘What is it?’ Steve had asked in return, sounding breathless for reasons unknown to him at the time.

That’s when Eddie retrieved a cassette from his pocket, a mixtape he said he’d made just for him, with songs that reminded Eddie of Steve and songs he wanted Steve to listen to because they meant something special to him. And all Steve could do was stare. Stare and wonder and hold his breath, scared of opening his mouth, of possibly saying something he’d regret. Not realising how long he must’ve stayed quiet. So long in fact, Eddie started to pull back the hand holding the tape.

   ‘It’s- it’s stupid. Sorry.’

After weeks of fighting himself, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. Couldn’t fight the urge anymore, the overwhelming need to break down the last remaining barrier that had kept him from finally telling Eddie the truth.

Only he didn’t say what he wanted him to know and instead, balled his fist in Eddie’s shirt to pull him in, crashing their lips together without warning. Kissing him in a way he’d hoped would be enough for Eddie to understand what he was trying to tell him. Pouring all his feelings into every press of lips, letting love spill from his tongue.

Love Eddie reciprocated in a way that was almost too much for Steve to handle – unashamed and unfiltered, confessing his feelings like it was the easiest thing to do.

That night, after Eddie had gone home, Steve lay in bed, not asleep but with his eyes closed, listening to the mixtape Eddie had made for him. Letting the music take him back to the moment in the Upside Down, brushing shoulders with the frazzled, doe-eyed man on the run – ‘Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off onstage?’ – laughing at himself for how clueless he’d been about so many things.

Steve has learned a lot since then. Not only about the seemingly endless list of things Eddie’s interested in but also, more importantly, he learned so much about himself.

   “Wanna listen to it while we ignore the mess and get to the good part of finally having an apartment to ourselves?” Eddie winks at him, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes telling Steve everything he needs to know.

   “You mean jumping into our new, giant bed so you can cuddle me until I fall asleep?”

   “Something like that, yeah.”

Tomorrow, Steve will be mad at himself for letting Eddie seduce him with his dorky charm, when he wakes up to the chaos of all the boxes still unpacked. And Eddie will be mopey as hell when he realises that they haven’t even recovered the coffee maker and cups from whatever cardboard prison they’re still stuck in.

But right now, none of that matters. Not when they’re kissing and touching each other to the sound of the music that means so much to both of them, memories locked in songs, every beat of drum a matching tune to their hearts’ rhythm. Sating their hunger for flesh and that deeper kind of love. Holding each other close in the comfort of their intimate bubble of you and me while Eddie – Van Halen, not Munson –  strums his guitar and sings along to the voice of Sammy Hagar, filling the background with a song that feels like it was written for them.

    How do I know when it’s love?

    I can’t tell you but it lasts forever.

    How does it feel when it’s love?

    It’s just something you feel together.

Later, when the music has long stopped and Steve allows sleep to slowly take a hold of him, he remembers the words and silently agrees. Love isn’t something that can be categorised into how or when or why. It’s something you just know is there because you can feel it in every part of your being. It’s something you can share through touch, and show through little things, and express with words – but even without all of that, there’s no doubt that their love, just like the song rightfully claims, is made to last forever.

It’s the essence of Steve’s existence, the one thing he can always hold on to, no matter what. This love for a man whose appreciation for life – after almost losing his fight against death – makes every day extra special. A man who constantly reminds him of how beautiful life is, and continues to make it so.

[hotchnersangel]

OUR PAST, PRESENT AND FOREVER

Aaron Hotchner

cw: fem!reader, wedding, crying, emotional hotch.

a/n- this one is super cute, surprise at the end but you can pretend it isn’t there if you don’t like it.

Meeting Aaron Hotchner for the very first time was like breathing fresh country air after being stuck in the city for your whole life. Though your life was arguably more chaotic after knowing him, you never doubted any part of your relationship, neither the good or the bad. You had disagreements but Aaron has never shouted at you and he never will, nor have you at him. Around each other maybe you have, but never to each other. Maybe that’s because of his understanding of your past but also due to the immense respect and love he will always have for you. He never wants to be the reason you cry. Yet, today he was the exact reason you were crying.

Your wedding day, a day you have been dreaming about since you were a little girl. You always wanted the traditional wedding dress, the big but intimate ceremony, the hundreds of thousands of flowers, the awkward and laughable dancing. You wanted and dreamt about it all.

When you met Aaron, you knew you wanted these dreams by his side. You wanted them to turn from your dreams to your shared memories, which is exactly what the day had been.

The ceremony had been indescribable, the feeling of walking down the aisle and Rossi handing you to your soon- to-be husband was overwhelming in the best way. Though, the moment those doors opened, Aaron took one glance at you and your emotions flood from your eyes and you didn’t bother wiping them, just let them fall. His smile was like no one but you had ever witnessed. Full of utter love and affection. Your vows illicited more tears from you, but Aaron was yet to cry. Close, very close he had come, but he had not shown a droplet until you stand up during the after party.

Everyone was sat round their tables and you go to make your speech following the maid of honour and groomsmen’s talks.

“If I could have your attention for a moment,” you say, everyone now looking over you, whose hand was still entwined with Aaron. “Since before Aaron and I were together, I made something hoping this day would one day come and I could finally be able to show him.” You start with a bright smile, looking down at him softly as everyone waits in anticipation.

“So here it is, the day we officially become one, this is my present to you honey.” You smile and wipe your eyes from the falling tears. “This is The Story of The Hotchner’s”

You look at Aaron who watches you place the scrapbook in front of him and he gets teary eyed, his lip wobbling as he looks up at you. He knew he chose the right one. His thoughtful, breathtaking, ethereal piece of art. His wife. The love of his life.

He stands up and pulls you into him, holding you in the tightest embrace you thought you were going to be squished. “Baby, oh my god.” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I haven’t even gone through it yet.” You grin, kissing his cheek and wiping a stray tear from his eye before continuing through the book.

‘To my beloved husband, let’s us never forget our past, our present or our forever.’ Was inscribed into the first page, you’re sat down now, watching as Aaron flips to the first page.

It showed an image of you awkwardly standing behind Hotch from around three months into working at the bau, pointing at his back which was firmly behind you as you pulled a funny face to the camera. It was taken by Penelope, you remember it so vividly, she had been the one to take a lot of these photos, along with JJ. Stuck closely on that page is another image of the same few months where he was staring at you with a straight face but you were grinning at him.

Aaron looked up at you and raises an eyebrow. “Did I always look so miserable around you?” He chuckles softly.

“You did, but I knew you never disliked me. No matter how hard you tried to conceal it, I always knew.” You grin back at him and he kisses your nose. “Now carry on.”

The next page brought a photo of Aaron slightly smirking at something you said but trying to conceal it behind his mug, it was a perfect candid photo. The next was an image of you two conversing on the first press conference with the two of you. Professional and hot.

The memories continued as you slowly see a change in the dynamic of your relationship, at first it’s like you’re both there but just simply there, then you see how Aaron opens up to you slowly and starts to lose his cold front with you. Over time it’s obvious that the distance between the two of you disappears and your smiles grow ten times larger. Then, it gets to recent photos and you stop him before he can flip the page again.

“There is so much space to add more photos of our journey together but I thought today was the perfect day to share this with you.” You grin at him, fully beaming as tears kiss your cheeks. As you look at Aaron, he pulls you to sit on his lap and he looks directly at you. You notice that tears were streaming out of his glassy eyes with very little shame. You laugh at the sight and it makes the emotions bubble more in your chest and he pulls you closer to him by your waist, hugging you so tightly. He kisses your head.

“I’m so beyond in love with you. Thank you. Thank you for having the most thoughtful, generous, beautiful soul both inside and out.” He says letting tears stream down as he doesn’t bother wiping them. Not even considering hiding or getting rid of the evidence of his complete and utter devotion and appreciation of you.

“There’s one more page.” You whisper to him and he looks back at the book, you both flip the page together and it reveals a photo of a baby scan. He freezes from under you and looks at the photo, bringing the book closer to him and looking back to you. Switching his gaze between the photo and you like a tennis rally.

“Is this…”

You nod and laugh, tears falling from your eyes as he pulls you into the biggest hug ever, his hand at the back of your head as it against his chest.

“Our family.”

[hazelira]

at least, once

The night air is cold against my skin as I step outside, the weight of my luggage dragging behind me. The streetlights flicker faintly, casting long, lonely shadows across the pavement. Our house looms behind me, silent and still, like a graveyard of memories I no longer belong to.

My breath shudders as I exhale, watching it dissipate into the night like all the words we never said. I don’t look back. If I do, I know I’ll break.

Ni-ki is still inside. Maybe asleep. Maybe awake. Maybe standing behind the door, listening, waiting for me to change my mind. But we both know that won’t happen.

It hurts. God, it hurts.

But love doesn’t always mean staying. Sometimes, love is knowing when to walk away before the pieces left behind become unrecognizable.

I clutch the handle of my suitcase, my fingers trembling. I should have seen this coming—the way the late-night conversations turned into silence, the way his touch became hesitant, the way his eyes searched for something in me that wasn’t there anymore. Or maybe it was, and he just stopped trying to find it.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I let it.

"Maybe you won’t love me again," I whisper into the void, my voice cracking under my heartache. "But at least I got loved by you once, and that was the best feeling ever."

And with that, I take my first step away.

The suitcase wheels rattled against the pavement, a quiet echo against the stillness of the night. Each step away from him, from our love, felt like ripping apart a piece of myself. But I had no choice.

Ni-ki told me it was an accident. That the girl kissed him, that he pulled away. But all I could think about was—what if it wasn’t? What if, for just a moment, he forgot that I was his? I forgot that I was the love of his life, supposedly.

What if, years from now, we got married, had kids, built the future we used to dream of—and he saw her again? What if he still thought about her? What if, behind my back, he met her in secret and whispered apologies against her lips the way he should have whispered them to me?

The thoughts wouldn’t stop. They clawed at my chest, suffocating me. I didn’t want to live a life full of what ifs. I didn’t want to wake up every morning wondering if I was enough. Suppose I would always be enough.

So I left.

And now, the sun was rising over a Ni-ki-less future.

His POV:

The bed was cold when I woke up.

I reached out instinctively, searching for her warmth and familiar weight beside me. But all I found was space.

My heart dropped.

“Babe?” My voice was hoarse, sleep-rough, but there was no answer.

The air felt wrong. The silence screamed louder than anything.

I stumbled out of bed, my chest tightening as I rushed through our house. The bathroom? Empty. The kitchen? Empty. The front door—unlocked.

That’s when I saw it.

The missing suitcase. The empty closet.

She was gone.

A shaky breath left me as my knees hit the floor. My mind raced, replaying every last word, every last look. The way she trembled when I told her. The way her eyes darkened with thoughts she didn’t say aloud.

I thought she’d stay. I thought she would yell, cry, tell me she hated me, but still choose me anyway.

But she didn’t.

I pressed a hand over my mouth, my body trembling.

She left.

Forever.

Your POV:

The morning light creeps through the cheap motel curtains, bathing the dull room in soft gold. But no warmth reaches me. The sheets are stiff, the air stale. Everything about this place screams temporary—just like us.

I pull my knees to my chest, staring at my phone on the nightstand—no missed calls. No texts.

Ni-ki hasn’t called.

I don’t know if I should be relieved or shattered.

Maybe he’s still asleep. Perhaps he woke up, saw I was gone, and decided I wasn’t worth chasing. Maybe this is proof that I was right to leave.

But why does it hurt so much?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push away the image of him waking up, running through the house, calling my name—only to be silent.

Would he cry? Would he sit on the floor, his head in his hands, wondering where I went wrong?

Or would he… move on?

I bite my lip to keep the sob from breaking free.

I want to believe he’s hurting like I am, that this is tearing him apart, too. But I also want to believe that leaving was the right choice.

I can’t have both.

I press my forehead against my knees, swallowing the ache in my throat.

Maybe in another life, I would have stayed.

Maybe in another life, he wouldn’t have let me go.

His POV:

The house is too quiet.

Too empty.

It doesn’t feel like home anymore, not without her.

I sit on the floor, staring at the space where her suitcase used to be. My fingers dig into my hair as I replay last night repeatedly. The way her face fell when I told her. The way her lips trembled like she was holding back a scream.

She didn’t yell, throw things, or demand to know why.

She just… left.

I should have stopped her. Should have grabbed her wrist, pulled her into my arms, begged her to stay.

But I didn’t.

Because deep down, I knew—she wasn’t just leaving because of the kiss.

She was leaving because of what it meant.

She thinks I’ll do it again. That someday, years from now, she’ll be sitting at home with our kids while I’m out somewhere, lips pressed against another girl’s.

And the worst part? I can’t blame her for thinking that.

I never got the chance to tell her—tell her that it was never a choice, never a moment where I forgot she was mine.

Because forgetting her? Impossible.

She is in everything. The way the pillows still smell like her shampoo. The tea mugs on the counter that she always forgot to clean. The way the sun hits the window just right at this hour, the same way it used to catch in her hair when she sat in this very spot.

She’s everywhere. And now, she’s nowhere.

I reach for my phone, my hands shaking. I stare at her contact, my thumb hovering over the call button.

What if she doesn’t answer?

What if she does?

What if she’s waiting for me to fight for her?

I take a deep breath and press the call.

It rings once. Twice.

Then—

"The number you are trying to reach is unavailable."

The automated voice cuts through my chest like a blade.

She blocked me.

And just like that, I know—

She’s really gone.

His POV:

I keep staring at my phone, my mind racing with thoughts I can’t escape.

What if I never told her?

What if I had just swallowed the guilt, buried it deep inside, and let it rot within me instead of breaking her heart with the truth?

Would she still be here? Would she be curled up on the couch, waiting for me to wake up so we could eat breakfast together? Would I still hear her laugh echo through the house, still feel her fingers tangle in mine, still see the love in her eyes when she looked at me?

I told myself that honesty was the right thing to do. That I owed it to her. But now, I wonder—did I just ruin everything for nothing?

It wasn’t my fault.

I didn’t know the girl. I didn’t even see it coming. One second, I was standing there, and the next—her lips were on mine. Everything happened so fast. I pulled away immediately. I didn’t kiss back. I didn’t even hesitate before pushing her off me.

But none of that mattered, did it?

Because in her mind, the damage was already done.

She didn’t just leave because of the kiss. She left because she couldn’t live with the possibility of me hurting her again. Because she thought that someday, I would forget she was the love of my life.

But she was wrong.

I could never forget.

I press my palms against my face, squeezing my eyes shut.

If I had just kept my mouth shut, if I had just held her a little tighter that night and never let her feel like she had to run—

Would she still be mine?

Or would the truth have found its way out eventually, tearing us apart in an even worse way?

I don’t know.

And maybe I never will.

Your POV:

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in my car, hands gripping the steering wheel, staring at nothing.

The bags are still in the backseat, untouched. I was so sure when I packed them—so sure that leaving was the right thing to do. That I had to go before I convinced myself to stay in something that would only hurt me later.

But now, I don’t know anymore.

Ni-ki told me the truth. I didn’t even give him a chance to explain everything, to tell me what happened in full. I just let my mind take over, drowning in worst-case scenarios until I felt like I was suffocating.

And now, sitting here alone, I keep asking myself the same question.

Why do I always run?

Every time someone hurts me, even if it’s unintentional, even if they don’t deserve to be abandoned—why do I leave before they get the chance to fix it?

Ni-ki isn’t perfect. He made a mistake. But I know him. I know his heart. I know the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters.

I still love him.

I love him so much it terrifies me.

I glance at my keychain, my fingers brushing against the silver house key.

I still have it.

He didn’t change the locks. He didn’t throw my things outside. Maybe…maybe he’s waiting.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab the key and step out of the car. The cold air stings my face, but I barely notice as I make my way back to the house.

I stand in front of the door, hesitating.

What if he’s asleep?

What if he doesn’t want me back?

What if I’m too late?

I shake the thoughts away and slide the key into the lock.

The moment the door opens, my breath catches.

There he is.

Ni-ki is sitting on the floor in the dimly lit living room, his back against the couch, his phone hanging limply in his hands. He looks exhausted—eyes red-rimmed, hair a mess, his hoodie wrinkled like he hasn’t moved in hours.

The second he sees me, he freezes.

We stare at each other, time stretching between us, hearts hanging in the balance.

And then—

“...You came back.” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

I nod, my throat tight. “I never really wanted to leave.”

He swallows hard, like he’s trying to hold himself together. “Then why did you?”

I step inside, letting the door click shut behind me. “Because I was scared.”

Silence. A thick, fragile silence.

Then he stands, his movements slow, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he moves too fast.

“I need you to know something,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “That night… I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t even see it coming. The moment it happened, I pushed her away. And the only thing I could think about was you. How much I love you. How much I—” His voice catches, and he swipes a hand down his face. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, my vision blurring. “I know.”

Ni-ki takes a shaky breath. “Do you?”

I nod, stepping closer. “I let my thoughts ruin everything before you even had the chance to explain. I ran because I thought it would be easier than staying and facing it. But I—” My voice wavers, and I look down, hands trembling. “I don’t want to keep running from the people I love.”

A pause. Then, a whisper. “You still love me?”

I look up, and for the first time since I left, I smile. It’s small, hesitant, but it’s real. “Yeah. I do.”

Before I can say anything else, Ni-ki closes the space between us, wrapping me in his arms so tightly it knocks the air out of my lungs. I bury my face in his chest, breathing him in, feeling his warmth, his heartbeat racing against mine.

He’s shaking.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmurs into my hair. “I thought I lost you forever.”

I close my eyes, holding onto him just as tightly. “You didn’t.”

And in that moment, I know—

We’re not perfect. We’ll make mistakes. We’ll hurt each other sometimes.

But love isn’t about running when things get hard.

It’s about finding your way back.

requested by: anonymous

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

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[taelortot]

Mine to keep

Choso Kamo

8.3k words

Summary: Choso is so very much in love with his best friend but she doesn’t feel the same way.. until she does.

If you see spelling mistakes or name errors, no you didn’t! (Not proof read)

"You look so beautiful, princess." Choso mumbles looking down at y/n. As if her body was molded by God himself, just for him. Fucking made for him— he knew that to be true. Ethereal she is, a fucking angel sent down from heaven, just for him.

"You have no idea how bad I want you" Choso could feel himself getting hard looking at y/n, at how breath taking she truly is. Look at her— laid out all pretty for Choso. Pink cotton panties bunched up in her ass, tits almost spilling out of her tank top, pebbled nipples poking through the thin material. Ready to be worshipped.

"I love you" his voice a low murmur as the camera flashed, he needed to save this moment forever. Palming himself through his jeans while shaking the Polaroid impatiently. Dark eyes trail over her body, taking in her delicate frame, voice inside his head telling him to touch her already. His pretty girl needs him to touch her.

"I love you" Choso said again softly as he rubbed up and down on his hard length in his dark bedroom to the photographs he took of y/n. Some sticky already, some brand new and begging to be tainted.

Oh how beautiful she looked, splayed out, ready to be taken, cunt on display for Chosos perfectly thick cock. His pretty fingers in the photo, pulling her panties to the side to capture the sight of her perfect pussy.

"You'll be mine one day, princess"

Y/n looked so peaceful as she slept, a hard sleeper she is. Not even stirring a little to the sound of someone climbing in through her window or the sound of several clicks of Chosos camera. It’s almost like she was asking for him to do so, since she won’t even notice anyway.

Things that go bump in the night. Seeing shadows in the corner of your eye in a dark room. Feeling like someone is watching you from afar.

These are all normal things everyone experiences. Some chalk it up to their imagination, some say it’s ghosts or spirits. Some ignore it, while some embrace the unknown.

Y/n didn’t know what to make of it. Not the bumps that woke her up from the dead of sleep. Not the shadows she saw outside her bedroom late at night. Not the feeling of someone watching her while she walked down the street. Even when she looked over her shoulder and no one was there. It was a strange feeling— feeling as though someone is watching you.

But alas, no one is there. No one is ever there.

Well.. that’s where y/n was wrong. Someone was always there.

Choso was always there. Watching. Lurking. Waiting.

Y/n chalked it up to being paranoid. She had to be paranoid. She was going crazy for thinking she closed her panty drawer last night.. she must have left it open in the haze of sleep deprivation. Her favorite bra went missing? Y/n must have obviously misplaced it and it would show up sooner or later. Her window left open just a crack? Shit, she must have forgotten to close it before she left for training.

These were all logical explanations for the things happening to y/n over the course of the last two months.

At first it was little things.

Picture frames slightly moved. Lipgloss left out on the vanity. Y/n favorite book left open when it was most definitely closed.

Then, it was much more bold. Much more invasive. Her phone being left open to messages she knew she didn’t open. Toilet seat left up in her bathroom. A glass of water placed by her bed, condensation dripping on the nightstand when she wakes up in the morning. The window by her bed being left open when she gets back home from training.

Which is all very off putting, when y/n knows none of this was her. Absolutely not.

No no no.

It was all Choso.

Skipping his training to lay on her bed just to smell that sweet perfume. It was Choso riffling though her panty drawer to find a pair he had seen peeking out of her pants as she bent over earlier that day. It was Choso who stole y/ns favorite bra that was left in her laundry basket.

It was always Choso.

Choso didn't start out this way actually, it was very gradual, he almost didn't notice it himself.

He had no idea that he was turning into some sort of a stalker for one of his best friends. He had no idea the lengths he was willing to go to keep her all to himself. It was like a light switch of some sort, turning on and staying on.

It was like that creepy attic light that somehow turned on one day, and everyone is too scared to go up and turn it off.. because how did it turn on in the first place? So it just sits, wasting electricity, looming over you, almost mocking you.

So there he was, sitting, looming, stalking y/n. He was so far into it, he was scared to go back.

There was no going back. No going back from whatever this has manifested into. No going back to normal. This was his new normal.

How could he go back? When y/n is his reason to live. She is his fucking oxygen. His everything.

All his years on this earth, and now he really feels like he is truly alive.

When I say it was gradual.. it was.. until everything was full speed ahead and there was no looking back.

There is no going back.

"Morning guys!" Y/n beamed seeing all her friends.

"Morning!" They all chimed in less enthusiastically, no one was as cheery as y/n in the mornings. That may be due to the amount of caffeine y/n intakes.

"Where's Cho?” Y/n felt saddened at the missing presence of her best friend, he was normally always there, waiting with a smile on his face to greet her.

"Still pretty bummed out you wouldn't go on a date with him I guess." Yuji mumbled, earning a head nod from everyone else.

"I don't see what the big deal is! I just don't see him like that" y/n explained herself again for the millionth time. Really not understanding what the big deal was.

"Yeah but you could have just gone on the date and just told him you would rather stay friends" the pink haired one mumbled again, feeling his brothers pain.

"That's not my fault" y/n defended herself with a frown on her face.

Y/n recently turned down a date with Choso. Actually it was the third time Choso asked y/n out. It was never anything personal, she just didn't like him like that. Y/n didn't see anything wrong with it, she didn't understand what all the fuss was about.

Sure, she knew it must have hurt his feelings. She tried her best to not let him down harshly, she tried not to hurt his heart. She knew Choso liked her, she had known for almost a year at this point. It wasn't hard to figure out, Choso was always touchy, but he became a little too touchy with y/n. Choso was suddenly so nervous around y/n, becoming a nervous wreck and stumbling over his words. It was very cute and endearing at first, but slowly became too much of y/n to handle.

"Would you maybe- uh I don't know want to go on a.. on a date with... Me?" Choso asked with his hands fidgeting, his eyes anywhere but y/ns.

"Uhm.. I don't know Cho." Y/n paused once she saw the face he made, instantly frowning like a little puppy once he heard her uncertainty.

"I would like to.. I just don't want to ruin what we have. You’re my best friend, and I love you. But I don't think it's the best idea"

And that's how it went three times— Well almost three times. The third time Choso asked, y/n wasn't so nice.

"Choso! Please!" Y/n begged running her fingers through her hair, wanting to pull it out at this point.

"Y/n, I love you. I love you okay? I just want to make you happy, I want to take you out and show you I can be good for you, just give me a chance. Just one?" Choso begged, tears almost spilling in his eyes. His heart breaking as he spoke, he could practically hear the way it cracked inside his chest.

"No Choso. No. I just don't like you okay? I'm sorry but I don't like you like that." She told him, a voice that, Choso believed to have venom laced in it. It must have, because the way her words sliced into him and burned him so deep, it had to have been venom. There’s no way his best friend is standing there, looking down at him while he’s on knees, begging her with tears in his eyes and telling him no. Fingers digging into her hips, trying to pull her close, pull her into the dark abyss of his heart. If she gave him a chance. She would see.

Y/n hated that she had to be like that with him, he just didn't understand where she was coming from.

Choso didn't say anything after that. His gripped softened on y/ns body, pulling away completely. Standing from his knees he wiped his tears as his face turned cold and calloused. Turning away he left y/ns room, slamming her door so loudly the whole building shook from the force.

Choso left with his heart hurting. He didn’t understand why no one has ever liked him. He never met a girl that wanted to go out with him. All 150 years alive, and not one girl wanted to be his. Sure, some girls wanted to fuck him, but that’s it. No one wanted something real. And that’s all that Choso wants, to be loved. He wants to be seen.

When y/n and him became friends, he assumed other girls thought they were an item. Due to how close they are. Being completely honest, they did look like a couple at times. And Choso was sure y/n had feelings for him. He was so fucking sure about... but of course he was wrong.

Choso is always wrong.

Choso always makes the wrong choices, always.

Y/n was now a mark on the checklist of wrong choices.

Wait. Haha. No.

No no no.

Fucking no.

That cannot be correct.

Y/n was the right choice. She just don’t know yet.

But she will.

The two grew up didn’t grow up together, but were so close after only a year of knowing each other, it seemed what way. Attached at the hip, both of them did everything together. Movie nights, hangouts, late night snacks, missions.. everything.

About 5 months ago is when Choso decided he liked y/n. What a glorious day it was to fall in love.

It was a day spent at the lake. The sun shining down, water splashing, a cool breeze. It was such a pretty day to spend with friends.

It happened when he saw y/n come out of the water like she was some sort of model in a magazine. Her hair sticking to her neck and shoulders in the most beautiful way. Skin glistening with small droplets of salty water running down her body— begging to be licked up. Oh god Choso wanted to run his tongue all over her body, drinking in the sweat mixed with lake water.

Her bikini pressed so tight to her body that Choso could see every single crevice that graced y/ns person. Nipples hard and poking through, begging to be pinched and played with. Fuck— her pretty little slit outlined in her bottoms as she laid on her tummy, legs slightly spread, while she tanned.

God he fell in love… maybe a deranged version of love. One that was built mostly on physical attraction.. but it was still love. Chosos version of love.

He remembers when he tried to kiss her.. the first time. And that didn't go so well.

Y/n sort of just laughed it off and pushed him by his shoulders. And that hurt Chosos feelings. It fucking hurt a lot.

She saw him lean in, ready to be kissed and she pushed him away with nervous laughter. He was so sure she wanted him to kiss her! The signs were there! (There were no signs.) but in Chosos mind, she was giving him sign left and right.

Here let’s go down the list.

Y/n held Chosos hand when they crossed a busy road.

Y/n pushed hair out of his face when the wind got wild.

Y/n hugged him goodnight.

See! There were signs that she wanted him to kiss her.

Granted.. there are things she’s always done. But that night it was different. Her intentions were different, Choso was sure of it.

But again, he was wrong.

"Hey Nobara, can you come get me?" Y/n sniffled into her phone.

"Babe what's wrong?" Nobaras voice full of concern, thinking something bad must have happened.

"Riku never showed up"

Y/n felt so stupid, a hot guy from her class asked her on a date and she said yes! And it must have been a cruel prank or something since the guy never showed. Y/n was stood up, she waited for an hour trying to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, expecting it to be car issues of something.

"I'm on my way, hun"

"It's just embarrassing!" Y/n exclaimed pushing the tears off her cheeks.

"I know, but honestly he wasn't even cute! You can do so much better. Plus he wqs like a super shit sorcerer”

"Yeah I guess.. but like who? No one likes me!"

"Chos—"

"No not him." Y/n snapped at her friend, not to wanting to hear anything she had to say about Choso.

"Okay, I'm just saying. The guy likes you. And youre his best friend."

"I know, Nobara. But, I don't like him, he's just my best friend and that's it" y/n huffed out, she didn't know why everyone was parading Choso around so much, sure he’s a great person. Y/ns best friend and she loves him more than she loves anyone else, but it wasn't a love that could be molded into something it wasn't.

The next day at school y/n was bombarded as she was eating her lunch silently, waiting for the whole group to sit with her.

"Did you hear?" The pink haired one asked, slamming his fists on the lunch table making y/n jump.

"Hear what?" Y/n questioned once her heartbeat somewhat calmed down.

"That guy Riku is dead, the one you were supposed to go out with" Nobara chimed in following the group in suit, taking a seat next to y/n.

"D-dead?" Y/ns eyes were big, eyebrows raising making her forehead wrinkle. Her eyes date back and forth between her two friends.

"Hey guys what going on" Choso smiled as of his heart wasn't completely shattered just a few days ago. The guy had such a way of bringing a light to the room, his smile was one that movie stars wished they had. And no matter how down he was, the smile graced everyone's presence shortly after.

He didn't look at y/n as he sat down across from her, he wanted to save himself the embarrassment.

"Riku is dead" Yuji tells his older brother.

"Murdered actually" the little emo one called Megumi states matter of factly.

"Murdered?!" Y/n raised her voice, not caring who heard her. She’s too sick to her stomach care otherwise.

"Oh man, that's crazy. Do they know who did it?" Choso asks tapping his fingers on the table in a beat no one recognized.

"No, but apparently it was brutal.”

"A bloodbath! The guy got a last minute mission that he could handle on his own. But when he didn’t come back last night, Gojo went looking for him. Turns out the curse was still alive.. but that wasn’t what killed him. Dude was stabbed and beat to death”

"Guys, can you not? Y/n was supposed to go on a date with this kid" Nobara rubbed y/ns shoulder, trying to sooth her friend.

"Man what's up with you? Turning down guys left and right, but the one you say yes to dies" Choso squinted his eyes at y/n, hurt still clearly written all over them.

"What are you trying to say Kamo?" Y/n growled back at him, fist clenching so tightly, crescent moon indents are left on her palms.

"Nothing” Choso shrugs his shoulders.

"Whatever" Y/n dramatically flips her hair back, before standing up. Chair scraping the wooden flooring, grabbing her bag and patting down her skirt to make sure she was covered before stomping away.

"Drama queen" Choso murmured under his breath as he watched her walk away. Watching the saw of her hips as she moves so perfectly.

It had been days. Fucking days or torture. Y/n missed her best friend. Typically after a day the two would be back to normal. But it was different this time. This wasn’t a regular fight.

"Do you think we could talk after school? I miss you sweetheart" Choso leaned up against the locker next to y/ns. Y/n was shocked, she thought that she would have to go to him, but he cracked first.

"Of course Cho. I miss you too. I just want to put all of this behind us" y/n smiled, she wasn't weirded out by the pet name, this was something Choso had called her before he developed feelings.

"Good. Meet me at my room- actually just meet me by the steps, we can walk to the dorms together"

"Sure" she nodded at Chosos suggestion. Y/n couldn't sit still for the rest of the day, watching the clock like a hawk. Of course y/n missed him, it had been a long few days without him being such a constant.

When y/n met Choso outside, he stood with a smug smile on his lips, ready to take his princess home with him. He seemed so happy to see y/n. She shared that award winning smile she had with him and greeted him with a sweet hello. They didn't talk much during the short walk back, waiting to be seated in Chosos room where they could really talk face to face.

The talk went really well, they both were understanding of each other's sides of the story, sharing what their feelings were. Y/n completely understood and held Chosos feelings with so much care, but still set her boundaries with him. Telling him she just didn't like him like that and Choso seemed to understand. Claiming he would do his best to move on but he would be hurt for a while, that was just something y/n would have to be cautious about.

It was like they were back to normal, Choso teasing y/n constantly and y/n teasing him right back, their old friendship they had shared for over a year and a half was back on its feet.

Well… That was until y/n shared with her friend group that she had another date. Choso kept his cool for the time being, not showing his anguish to y/ns face. He seemed happy for her, but it was all a facade. On the inside, Chosos blood was boiling from the inside out, his hands clenching the sides of the table turning his knuckles white.

Why couldn't y/n just choose him?

Why not?

Why couldn't she just be in love with him the way he was with her?

Why can't he just brainwash her or something?

Why was it so fucking damn hard to get one person to fucking love you?!

Choso was ready to smash someone's head through a wall, maybe even y/ns at this point. Her blood would be so pretty covering his hands..

No.

No no that's wrong, he could never hurt y/n, that was so silly of him to even think that.

Just a silly little goose Choso is.

Once again, y/n was stood up. Calling Nobara to come pick her up.

Déjà vu. A broken record.

The same thing happened, y/n all dressed up ready to be wined and dined, and another potential suitor no where to be seen. Nobarawas consulting y/n once again, helping her cheer up and not cry over someone who didn't even care to show up.

But everything happens in patterns, doesn't it?

Would you be surprised if I told you the guy called Junpei (y/ns almost date) was found dead the next day by grounds keepers? Laid flat on his back behind some bushes.

Murdered.

Stab wounds all over. Throat slashed.

I don't think you would be surprised one bit actually.

History has repeated itself before, and it will again and again. And it did... Again and again. That leaves us with young jujutsu sorcerers murdered, killed in a brutal way.

Not even with and fucking magical powers! Flat out murdered with a weapon.

How interesting.. don’t you think?

Now shit just got weird.. and it will continue to get weirder. Trust me.

10pm on a Saturday night, most teens would be at a party or at the movies with thier friends, but y/n sat alone in her room. Watching a movie she had seen one too many times. Dumplings and ramen lazily eaten sat on the desk and a half drank bottle of beer along side of it. That's why Choso liked y/n.. she was just like him. No girly food or girly drinks, she was just like him.

A knock at the door catches y/ns attention, though she didn't get up the first time. Too lazy to even move, she wanted to be alone at the moment. Shit 4 guys she wanted to go on dates with died.. she didn't even want to leave her house for the next decade.

By the third knock y/n was annoyed, stomping over to the oak door and swinging it open with a force she didn't know she had.

But alas.. no one was there. Y/n rolled her eyes before slamming it shut with a grunt, annoyed that she even had to get up in the first place.

Right as y/n turned to walk away, another knocked, only louder.. rougher.

"For the love of God!" Y/n yelled out spinning around and opening the door she left unlocked to reveal.. no one.

Some slasher killer music would have started to play if this was a movie for sure. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, how did they get away from the door that quick? Probably some first years that didn’t go out playing some prank.

Against all her better judgement y/n did what she knew she shouldn't have done.

"Hello?” Y/n called poking her head outside the door, looking from the left to the right, she saw nothing but a dimly lit hall.

Whoever was ding dong ditching her surly was having a good laugh from wherever they are hiding. That's at least what y/n thought. So she left it alone, walking back inside and making sure the deadbolt was locked she made her way back to her bed.

Just as y/n hit play on her movie, another knock. This one was weird, slow and menacing almost. And that’s when she saw from under door, a shadow of a person standing there. Not moving. Y/n stomach fell, suddenly getting a weird feeling. This wasn’t right.

That’s when it hit her. This could be the person who has been killing students off.. here for her. Knowing she’s probably the only girl left on the girls dorm facility.

The knocking only began to get more aggressive as y/n looked for her phone. The door shaking and threatening to give way. As soon as y/n found her phone, she called the only person who would protect her with his life.

“Choso” y/n whispered in a panic as soon as he picked up.

“Y/n? Why are you whispering” Choso whispered back, assuming it was some sort of game.

“Choso! I need you to get here! There’s someone here.. I think they are going to hurt me”

“Be there in 5” the line went dead.

Two minutes later the pounding on the door stopped. A minute after that y/n heard the heavy footsteps of Choso running down the hallway, yelling her name.

"Choso!" Y/n ran to open the door, jumping into Chosos arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

"I got you baby, I got you" Choso pushed his way into the room, locking the door behind him.

Y/n fully broke down as choso carried her to the bed, crying into his neck at the thought of what could have happened if he didn't come save her. 

"Shh it's okay. I'm here" choso sat down, allowing y/n to stay in his lap as she cried in his hair, digging her face deeper into his neck when he adjusted his arms, scared he was going to let go.

"Don't let go" y/n hugged tighter, making choso smile from ear to ear.

"I'm won't" he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her jwad, rubbing her back up and down gently.

When y/n pulled back after a few minutes, she looked into Chosos chocolate eyes, they were so full of love and care. Holding on y/n as of she was the last person in the world, as if she hung the stars and the moon (in his eyes, she did).

"Cho" y/n whispered, her eyes flicking down to his lips. So overwhelmed with emotions she had no idea what to feel about the situation. Chosos hands digging into y/ns hips, holding her so tight.

"Y/n" the messy haired boy whispered back.

It was a decision y/n didnt know she made until her lips were on Chosos. Pressing a hard kiss to his lips, taking in the little sigh Cho gave when he realized what was happening—melting into the kiss. Their lips moved in a rhythm that was fast and heated, needy and desperate. It was so passionate and breathtaking, their hands moved quick while roaming each other's bodies.

"Cho" y/n pulled back quickly, once she realized what she was doing.

God, has choso always looked so pretty? His lips plump from the kiss, eye lids heavy, and hair messy from the sprint from the boys facility to here.

"Yes" Choso tried to lean back in to steal another kiss, he needed y/ns lips  back on his, he needed to feel her love that she didn't know she had.

"No no. I'm sorry" y/n leaned further away from her friend.

"Sorry? Don't be. I loved it" the boy chuckled, still trying to get another kiss.

"No Cho- I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have done that. It was a mist-"

"A mistake?!" Choso yelled, immediately understanding that y/n didn't kiss him for love, she kissed him on the heat of the moment.

"Cho- Im sorry. I don't know why I-"

"God shut up! You fucking use me like this and- and say you're sorry?! You know I'm in love with you y/n! You fucking know my heart belongs to you! You know I would do anything for you and you do this to me? You break my heart over and over" choso shoves y/n off, tossing her to the side so she lands on her bed. He stands up quickly running his hands down his jeans.

"Fuck you y/n. Jesus Christ! I hate you!" Choso yelles, his eyes tearing up in a way he didn't know. He didn't know he could be so angry he would start to cry. Tears stinging his eyes as he glares down at y/n, who is completely bewildered by his outburst.

"I've poured my heart out to you time and time again! You are a fucking cunt!"

"Cho-" y/n tried to get a word in, but Choso refused, so heated in the moment, his heart beating so quickly he thinks it may explode.

"Shut the fuck up! You are so manipulative! You fucking use everyone to get what you want, and that's it. You're a bad fucking person and I hate you. We aren't friends anymore." 

Y/n hasn't spoken to Choso in a week, he hasn't looked her way, he avoids her when she tries to talk to him. Choso was no longer y/ns best friend. He stuck to his angry words.

Well.. y/n was never awake when Choso looked at her.. she was never awake when he spoke to her.. she was never awake when he told her she would always be his best friend and that he could never hate her. That he would always love her, even if she didn’t love him.

Again, Choso was stalking around y/ns room I n the late hours of the night, climbing through her window, digging through her laundry hamper. Choso was brushing y/ns hair out of her face and snapping photos of y/ns sleeping body. He was so obsessed, borderline crazy obsessed with y/n. He loved her smile, the way she smelled, the way her skin looked so fucking soft and supple in the moonlight that shined down on her though the now open window.

He loved the way her panties smelled after she finished training. The way the soft lacy felt against his cock when he used them to get off. He loved the way they tasted when he shoved them in his mouth to suppress the moans he let out when he was getting off right next to y/n. He loved when she would let out soft whimpers when he kissed her thighs, he fucking loved every single bit of y/n.

Sure it wasn't the traditional way to love someone... But this way y/n couldn't turn him down.

On y/ns end, she was going absolutely crazy.

Fucking coocoo bonkers.

She missed Choso so fucking much (again she didn't know he was always around). She missed his smell and his presence, she missed his jokes and goofy laugh.

Y/n found her eyes drifting towards him in the school hallway, noticing how pretty his smile is, how good those beat up jeans he wore looked, how strong his arms are, the way he walked was hot.

Fuck had he always been so hot?

God his rings, those fucking fingers, his bracelets, his tattoos... Fuck Choso is so hot.

God, y/n was so stupid, how had she not noticed before? Had she always seen Choso like this and never realized? Y/n had so many questions.

She was also wondering where all her damn thongs were going.

"Fuck this shit" y/n threw herself out of bed, thinking about Choso for almost every second of the day was driving her up the wall. She had to see him, she had to confess some sort of attraction to him.

God— was she in love with him? How could she not be?

Y/n knew that Choso would be out with Yuji and wouldn't be back for another hour or so. Thanks to Yujis snap story.

So there she was, throwing on some shorts and a plain tank top. Running out the girls dorm building and down the sidewalk to the one that house the boys.

She needed to see him, her body felt on fire, butterflies in her tummy thinking about him, she needed to apologize to him and tell him how she feels.

Y/n couldn't stop thinking about the way his lips felt on hers, the moans he was letting out when he finally got to kiss her the way he always wanted. The way his hands roamed her body and how they felt, how his callouses scraped perfectly against her skin.

Fuck she needed to feel it again.

Walking down the hallways she stops at Chosos door. Truly debating whether or not she was going to go through with it. Standing on her tip toes she finds the extra key on the door frame. 

Making her way into Chosos room, she closes the door behind her and switches on the lamp. Looking at his knick knacks and posters hanging on the walls, her fingers trace over his dresser

Most of the drawers had always been empty since Chosos version of laundry is throwing everything in one big pile on the floor.

Y/ns gut told her to open the drawers and see what was inside, getting this overwhelming feeling of needing to look. So she did.

The first few were full of junk, pens, charging cords, random receipts.

But the last one... Oh fuck the last drawer down at the bottom was something y/n didn't think she would ever find in her life.

Y/n let out a gasp as her hands were shaking while going through the drawer. All the panties she had lost and all the bras she had lost were lazily thrown into the drawer. Choso must have had 20 pairs of garments in this drawer, some were well used at this point and some still pretty and fresh.

"Oh my god" a shaky breath came from y/n as she felt a piece of paper down at the bottom. Pulling it out almost made her pass out right then and there.

A photo.

A photo of y/n sleeping in her bed.

Then another… and another…and about 50 more.

All of y/n sleeping or changing in her bed room.

This thick bubbling feeling came from y/ns stomach and her face turned pale, she was gonna be sick. There were so many photos of her, so many panties, so many dirty things in this drawer that only a stalker would have.

Oh my god.

Choso was stalking y/n— but we already knew that. Only, y/n didn’t know.

It made sense to her, everything clicking in her brain, all the nights her window was open, all the times her panties went missing, all the times her drawers were open. Everything made so much sense.. it was Choso the whole time. Choso was fucking stalking y/n.

Choso was always there.

As y/n began to stand up, ready to make a mad dash for the door, she heard someone clear their throat. Slamming the drawer shut with a yelp, her heart jumping to her throat and her palms becoming sweaty.

"Choso" y/n was breathless, looking up at the dark haired man towering over her. Y/n scrambled to her feet, trying to decipher his emotions.

His face red as if he was embarrassed of what y/n just found, maybe even angry that she was snooping through his things.

Choso let out a deep breath as he fully crossed the threshold of his bedroom, his boots heavy on the wooden floors making a loud thump that made y/n flinch.

"Well you shouldn't have done that" choso half smiled with a head shake. His voice deep and gravely, showing no humor even though his face said otherwise.

It was all so fuzzy for y/n. It felt like she had been hit on the head or something, it was so foggy and blurry.

"There she is" y/n heard as her eyes opened slowly. The pounding in her head got worse from the bright lights she was under. Trying to move, y/n realized she couldn't, her legs and arms bound to a chair.

"You scared?" Chosos voice was deep, scary even. Y/n had never heard him speak in such a tone.

"Ch-Cho?" y/n groaned closing her eyes again, maybe it was just a dream.

That's what this had to be, if y/n tried hard enough she would wake up and be safely tucked in her pink bed.

"Open your eyes baby" Choso cooed, much softer this time around. His thick hands touching y/ns face, moving towards the bump on the side of her head, tsking softly as he did.

Truly Choso felt bad for slamming y/s head into the very dresser she was going through. But she had seen what he had done, he didn't know what else to do.

Choso carried her limp body to his car that he barely used, and shoved her in the back. He let out soft tears as he looked back and saw the blood dripping down her face, he never wanted to hurt y/n.

Remember when I said shit would continue to get weirder.. you believed me right?

I wanna ask you something" choso smiled sweetly even though y/ns eyes were closed.

"I don't have all day y/n, open your fucking eyes!" Chosos voice booming in the small metal shack he brought y/n to.

"There we go, see? I'm much nicer when you listen to me" Choso praised y/n, even though her eyes fluttered closed every few seconds due to the painful light in her eyes.

"What are you doing Cho?" Y/n groaned trying hard to keep her eyes open.

"I just wanna ask you some questions" Choso sunk down to his knees in front of y/n, letting his hands touch her thighs softly.

"Why couldn't you just go out with me?" Y/n didn't answer, staring down at who she thought was her best friend.

"Talk to me princess, I don't want to make this hard for you" y/n still didn't answer, she was in state of shock, here she was bound and unable to move, her head was hurting like a bitch, and Choso was acting as of there was nothing wrong with this scene.

"I don't want to hurt you" Choso pulled a sharp knife out of what seemed like no where, pressing the blade to y/ns thigh. A trickle of blood came from where he dug it in making y/n yell out in pain.

"That feel okay?" Choso asked taking the knife to y/ns other thigh, digging the point of it into her meat. “So pretty”

"Choso stop!" Y/n yelled, her body shaking wishing to be freed from the rope.

"Answer the fucking question!" Choso yelled pointing the blade of the knife at y/n throat. Tears spilled from y/ns eyes as she cried for help, for the old Choso to come in and rescue her.

"I'll go out with you choso! I love you! I was scared that's it!" Y/n told the man, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him.

"Don't try to lie your way out of this"

"It's the truth! I've always loved you Cho! I was scared we would break up and I'd never have you in my life again"

"Now I know that's not true, pretty" traced knife down the column of her throat, not hard enough to slice her skin, just enough to scare her.

"It is, but you can have me now Cho. I want you, please don't hurt me.  I love you." Y/n choked on her tears as she spoke, bubble of spit sticking to her lips as she sobbed for him to believe her.

“That was good! You almost got me” Chosos laugh vibrates in the air around them both. “You should get an Oscar or an Emmy or whatever for that”

“Cho! Please listen. I was going to your room to tell you I made a mistake. That I- I love you”

"I'm sorry I have to do this, baby.. I love you so much y/n" Chosos eyes filled with tears as he shamefully looked away from y/ns red face. Part of him believed her, why else would she have been in his room? Something inside him flipped, seeing his baby cry for him like this hurt. Choso really let himself cry, thinking about his options here. His sobs were soft, really debating if he could actually harm y/n in more than just a little bump on her head.

"Choso you don't have to do this, I love you. Please don't do this" y/n tried to work some sense into his brain. “Ple-please.. I won’t say anything. We- we can go back to your room and lay down and be together” y/n begged him, her voice hoarse and shaking.

"I love you Cho- look at me please" y/n needed to see his pretty eyes. She needed to see them and then maybe he would see the love she has for him on hers.

"I'm sorry, princess. But if I can't have you.. no one else can" choso pressed the knife back into y/ns throat, wishing it didn't have to be this way.

"I lov- I love you" y/ns body shook violently as she tried to avoided the blade against her skin.

"I love you more"

Choso cried and cried at y/n funeral. Friends hugging and supporting one another during these dark times. No one understood. No one understood what happened to her.

None of the teachers or higher up’s understood what went wrong. She had volunteered to take a last minute mission by herself, but choso tagged along— according to Chosos side of the story. And according to Choso, he showed up too late. Y/n was completely obliterated by the curse that was stronger than what they had thought.

What they will never know Choso was the one who emailed Gojo as y/n to take the mission alone. Creating the facade that she would be gone for a few days. They will never know what really happened.

And what they also won’t know was that Choso still had a little secret, sure there was him getting away with murdering a few teens.. making sure to not use his technique so he wouldn’t be found out… but another one.

Another one that may come as a shock.

"Honey I'm home" Choso beamed as he walked into the home he purchased a few months ago. Not even his baby brother knew about this house.

"Choso!" y/n cried from behind a locked door

Fumbling with the many locks, the tall man finally got the door open to reveal the love of his life.

"Shh baby, calm down. Im here" Choso grinned, sitting down next to y/n on the small bed.

"Ch-Cho let me go please" y/n croaked, her throat so dry from all the screaming and crying. "Don't hurt me please cho. I love you I love you I love you" y/n sobs, confessing her love for him, as she has been doing for months now.

"I know you do princess. I know."

"Don't hurt me please" y/n flinches back as choso reached out to brush y/ns hair behind her ear.

"Why would I hurt you, baby? I would never. I love you, y/n. But you have to stay here now, where we can live together.. and be happy" Choso explains calmly, watching as y/ns tears dropped down onto the pillow she was resting on.

"Ch-choso please I love you! Le-t let me— please let me go"

"I can't. You'll be happy here. You'll be happy as my little pet forever."

"I love you choso" y/n cries, her sobs reaching every corner of the small house that was in the middle of the woods. Somewhere no one would find.

"I love you too baby" choso press a kiss to y/ns chapped lips.

"But you're mine to keep now"

Chains clanking together all day and all night long, the sound of metal became annoying to choso every second he was there to take care of y/n. The sound of her trying to free herself on a panic every day hurt him.

The metal rubbing down on y/ns wrists and ankles as she struggled every single day. Wanting to be free, begging Choso every day to let her go, to let her be free from him, to not be his to keep. Y/ns screaming throughout the nights were never heard, her pleas for help would never be heard, her cried would stay with her as no one would ever hear her.

She begged and begged for Choso to at least let her out of the chains, which he protested to. One day Choso would let her out of them, but not until he knew she wouldn't try to leave, not until he knew she would stay with him.

So y/n was meant to lay there for months and months, until she will inevitably break. Break so deeply all she will know is Choso Kamo. He will be the only thing she will know and remember.

Choso thought for way to long about this moment, having y/n forever.

And now, y/n was Chosos to keep.

This is more like what I normally write.. and I get a lot crazier than thins :)

Sharing is caring!

Thank you for reading and pls pls pls tell me what else you want to read and oll do my best to pump them out :)

Kisses 💋

Taglist: @vellichor01 @loveyislost @koreluvsspring @ersharyzst @namjooningera @mvrte-blog1 @gradmacoco @emlient

[cowboythethird]

James didn’t realize it was a gay club immediately; he hadn’t been out in muggle nightlife in years, comfortably coupled up as he had been, and wasn’t quite sure what muggle gay fashion looked like. Or muggle fashion at all. He’d had to ask Remus for aid getting dressed (dress robes did not exactly blend in to the clubbing scene) who was uncharacteristically eager to help.

They’d settled on a a tight t-shirt, cropped to James’ middrift, and embossed with the word “Queen” which he recognized as the name of one of the muggle bands Sirius listened to. Over that he wore a light jean jacket, rolled up to his elbows because it was hot, and a tiny pair of jeans shorts that barely covered his ass that Remus insisted were peak muggle fashion. Used to flowing wizard robes, James had tugged at the bursting seams of the shorts uncomfortably, but he had to agree that his muscled legs did look great in them. He’d then imagined Sirius’s reaction to them, and ashamed, thought it maybe best if he didn’t look great tonight. Wear some baggy pants and a dunce hat as punishment.

Anxious to see what Sirius himself was wearing, James sat on the living room couch, tapping his hands absentmindedly against his bare thighs. Sirius’ couch. The one he’d been sleeping on for the past two weeks while Lily moved out of his apartment. Was it wrong that he’d felt a tad relieved when she flooed him yesterday to say she hadn’t yet found a place to live? That he’d almost offered she just keep their apartment and he move in with Sirius?

Yes. James thought decidedly. He needed to move out before he got the urge to ask Sirius to share his bed.

It had been nice. Too nice. Living with Sirius. The quiet domesticity of it all. He’d accidentally made enough coffee for two the first morning, used to brewing it for Lily as well, but Sirius had happily lapped it up and then made them both dinner the next evening, and so they had fallen into the rhythm of living together. As easy as it was back at Hogwarts, and as easy as it seemed it could be forever. James would sweep the floors, Sirius would put on a record—something with a sexy beat and a raging guitar—and start miming the chords with those nimble fingers of his, and James would join in their air-band using the bewitched broom as his microphone. Soon they’d be dancing up on each other in the kitchen, faces flushed, screaming along to Dorea and The Dwarves.

But they were just playing house. And Although Sirius had ardently promised it could be forever, James knew he’d have to leave at some point before he did something so far out of the realm of platonic that he damaged their friendship forever.

So he’d kiss a girl at the club tonight, move back into his own apartment the next week, and pretend to wallow over Lily for a few weeks after that. It would be easy: he’d already been doing that his whole life.

Determination set in his brow, James stood up then, eager to take the first step towards this bleak future—when Sirius came hurdling into the living room, tripping himself up on James’ feet, and landing on the floor one hand gripped on James’ thigh for support.

A flush crept up James’ leg, over his abdomen, under that tiny Queen shirt, up his neck, and all over his face. Sirius was looking up at his with tentative horror, wide eyes lined with black so his grey irises stood out strikingly. He was kneeling at James’ feet, mouth slightly parted, and a large hand wrapped around James’ bare quad.

Sirius stood up quickly, rising over James so he had to look up to meet his friend’s eyes. This was almost worse. James had to do everything in his power to keep his gaze from wandering down to Sirius’ tight jeans or the shirt stretched across his broad chest.

Gods, James needed some firewhisky NOW.

“Smooth, huh?” Sirius chuckled, not meeting James’ gaze. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. The one that had just palmed James’ thigh. He didn’t dare look down, convinced he’d see his friend’s fingerprints inked into his bare leg.

“Yeah,” James said, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Seems you’re as ready to head out as I am.”

Sirius took the invitation to leave eagerly, stomping into his leather boots and passing James his sneakers.

James wished he owned those kiddy velcro shows as his trembling hands struggled to do up the laces.

They apparated to the bar—James side-along with Sirius since he wasn’t familiar with the location. It was in Soho, a neighborhood James didn’t frequent, a bustling place that night, the air filled with loud hoots, blinking lights, and the smell of cigarette smoke. Sirius led him out onto the street and down a block until they reached their venue. The Sundown Club sat on the corner of two streets in the basement of a building called the Astoria. A sign outside advertised a disco club called “Bang!”

“A lot of men here.” James noticed, eyeing the long line of 20-something men crowded around the street. They had barely left the house and his Be Straight plan was already falling apart with no potential women to seduce.

Sirius hurriedly mumbled something in response to not having been to the club in a year and how it could have changed from when he used to come and it was “just bursting with birds.”

James wasn’t a fan of imagining Sirius being swamped by drunk girls, so he changed the subject. “Hey, I’ve got you, so as long as they provide liquor and good music I’m content. What’s a ‘disco’ anyway?”

“Oh boy,” Sirius clapped, lighting up, “you’re gonna love it. Just wait till you see the ingenious way muggles light up the dance floor; they call it a ‘disco ball’.”

They made their way inside the club, passing by throngs of men lounging on the stairs. The men, James noticed, didn’t seem like the muggle ones he’d seen on the telly. Their tank tops bore long v-necks and they lay comfortably on each other, arms around the others necks, hands on their lad’s waist a little too low. Not a single girl was in sight. One man gave James an appraising look.

Sirius’ grip was tense around James’ bicep as he led them to the bar. He waved to the bartender, ordering them a round of shots. The man returned shortly with two glasses of amber liquid and refused the muggle money Sirius offered him.

“On the house,” the bartender boasted, “celebrating you finally finding someone.” He pointed his jaw at Sirius’ hand wrapped around James’ arm. “Cute one too.”

It was then that James noticed the word printed on the man’s tank top. ‘Gay.’ His stomach dropped to the floor. This was a gay bar.

How did Sirius know? He’d been so careful. Did Remus tell him? James couldn’t meet his friend’s eye.

“We’re not,” Sirius said tersely, dropping his arm like a hot coal. “He’s not.”

At the same time James said: “He’s not—“

“Ah.” The bartender said disappointedly. “Well, they’re on me anyway, Sirius.”

Sirius downed his shot faster than James had ever seen someone take one. James toyed with his, running a finger along the rim of the glass.

“He knows your name.” James didn’t know what to make of it.

Sirius had gotten good at faking it. He’d gotten good at the smiles and the flirting and the hinting at women sharing his bed. He mentioned the clubs and changed the pronouns and he got good at it.

He got good at lying to James. He’d never wanted to be good at lying to James.

He’d gotten so good at it that when James and Lily broke up and James needed an outlet to “let loose” that he’d turned to Sirius and asked where he normally went.

And, of course, Sirius had given the name of the only bar he could think of.

One he hadn’t been to in a year, which could be in his best interest now as hopefully none of his old hookups would be there. But still.

He’d very much given the name of a gay bar to newly singly James Potter.

He debated calling in help but Remus wouldn’t understand the urgency. Had never understood why Sirius didn’t go out with it and tell James he was gay. James would understand, Remus was certain. It wouldn’t change anything.

But Remus didn’t know about the countless practice kisses. The times they’d share beds to stave off the cold. Didn’t know that the only reason James couldn’t see Sirius’ feelings was that he’d never thought them possible.

Sirius was a womanizer.

He’d carefully made sure James knew that. Believed that.

Because otherwise, his friend might see. Might see the arms thrown over shoulders, the lingering hugs, the blushes, the smile he couldn’t control at hearing Lily had finally left him.

Things that a straight best friend might get away with. Things that a queer friend wouldn’t.

But then he’d gone and given James the name of London’s number one gay night club.

And he was fucked.

[geowrites03]

A Part of the Family

Part 1 ~ Getting Adopted

Batfam x Fem!Orphan!Reader

Summary: Y/n is just another kid left out on the harsh streets of Gotham, all having to fend for themselves. She however had a friend in low places. But, what will happen if this friend gets sent to Arkham Asylum? Who will she have to save her from the dangers of this god awful city?

“Waylon!” I called out as I stomped on the manhole cover to get his attention. He usually came by now, I hope the Bat didn’t get him again. But much to my shitty luck.

“It’s no use kid, Batman got him last night.” I look over to see Selina there. She isn’t wearing her Catwoman suit which is surprising because of how late it is.

“You probably helped him somehow, too.” She looked at me quizzical. “Everyone knows that the Cat and the Bat got something going on.”

“Okay, but what if I say that, I didn’t help him?” She came closer and wrapped her arm around me so we could walk to somewhere else because she noticed a small group of sketchy guys walking towards me.

“Then I guess I can… Share some of my food? I usually split it with Waylon, but…” She laughed and shook her head.

“No I was kidding, I don’t want anything. You can keep all the food to yourself tonight.” She stopped walking and put each of her hands on either of my shoulders. “I take that back, I want one thing. You to stay safe, Waylon won’t be back for awhile ‘cause he always takes forever to escape, so please, stay out of trouble.”

I nodded and gripped one of her hands for reassurance. “I promise.” She smiled down at me, then got a message on her phone.

“I have to go now. Bye, and I mean it, Stay Out Of Trouble.” I nodded again as she ran off.

I looked around to see if the group of guys was still following us but it looks like we lost ‘em. Now all I have to do is find a place to eat my food.

Deciding that up on a hard to get to roof would be best, I put my food in my backpack so I don’t drop it. I climb up onto a dumpster, jump to a ledge and climb up a pipe. It wasn’t that hard to onto which made me a little uneasy but nobody would be that desperate to jump from a dumpster to a skinny ledge and then climb up a single, small, water pipe for 5 stories.

I get my food out of my bag, I got what I always get. A cheap burger and a small, curly fries from a small take out shop. But tonight, because I can’t give Waylon his and I already bought it, I get double that, besides the fries being a large, and some nuggets. I was feasting tonight.

I couldn’t eat all of it though, I still had the extra burger, some fries and some nuggets left. I put them back in the takeout bag and into my backpack. I slide down the pipe and jump to the ground from when it ends. When my feet hit the ground I’m met with a voice I wasn’t planning on hearing tonight.

“What were you doing on a restricted rooftop?” The latest Robin’s voice called. I looked his slightly lean figure up and down, rolled my eyes and walked away from him.

“Look, why don’t you go deal with some actual crimes, rather than someone just trying to find a safe place to eat.” He scoffed and started walking the opposite direction. I decided to be extra bitchy, not caring who I’m talking to, even though I could most definitely out run him. “And thanks for putting Croc away too.”

“Why are you sarcastic about me putting away a villain that deserves it? Shouldn’t you be relieved that a threat is off the streets?”

“A threat? Waylon was the only person looking out for some of us kids living on the streets who can’t protect themselves. Those random ‘defenceless’ guys that kept showing up in the ER nearly scratched to death? That was him protecting us. Now some of us have noway to protect ourselves.”

~

After a mini dispute with Robin I was back to my usual activities of pickpocketing random people walking down the street, while keeping an eye out for quiet safe spaces to sleep for the night.

Just like most nights there weren’t really any ‘safe’ places so I decided to stay awake and moving all night. I sighed, I haven’t slept in 4 days and it was really starting to take its toll on me.

I was walking for a while when I finally caught onto a car that has been following me for awhile tonight. I subtly try to look at it to see if I could possibly identify it. I could, it was one of the orphanage coordinators cars. I also notice a police car behind it so I couldn’t try and run again. These bitches are really persistent.

I stop walking and the car pulled up next to me. The driver rolled down the window, it was one of the old and rude coordinators.

Bruce’s POV~

“Look Lee, I already said that I’m not currently in the position to take in another kid, I have enough on my plate.” I sighed talking to the woman on the other line. “As much as I would love to help a child in need, I just can’t at the moment, I’m sorry.”

“Please, Bruce she’s already gotten in too much trouble at the orphanage and is on her last strike.” The hospital where Lee works helps out the Gotham Orphanage by providing free health checks and regular check-ups, so she is often concerned about these kids. “She’s on a 5-strike system, but she’s already run away 5 times Bruce. This was the last straw before they kick her out, please. Even if it’s just for a little while to see how she’ll adapt.”

“Can I think about it overnight?” She agreed and I ended the phone call.

Y/n’s POV~

Here I was back in this horrendous room, just for one night though, they finally want me out. I put my small amount of belongings that were surprisingly still here in a duffle bag then climbed into bed.

I wondered where I would end up being sent, or if they even had anything planned for me at all. It wasn’t long before I drifted off to sleep.

~

One of the coordinators, Jessie, woke me up with a harsh shake and ushered me out of bed and to get changed. She left as I was getting changed so I had the opportunity to slip a pocket knife into my bra, another in my pocket of my shorts, another in the inside pocket of my jacket, and one down my sock but not visible due to my shoe.

I gathered my two bags, had the duffle bag hanging off of one shoulder and backpack on the other shoulder.

“Oh. No, leave them there for now, you’re only going to meet with him.” She said when I opened the door.

“Him?” I asked confused while putting my bags on the bed that was most likely no longer mine.

“Yes him,” she nodded and ushered me out of the room. “He might adopt you, and if he doesn’t then I don’t even want to know where the head of the orphanage is going to send you.”

I merely nodded and followed her into an office where the head of the orphanage, Agatha, and Bruce Wayne were already sitting. Across the table from them there was an empty chair and another on the side of the table, that Jessie had already made herself comfortable in.

“Don’t be shy, y/n you can sit down.” She had said to me, I looked at her and sat down in the chair.

“Y/n this is Bruce Wayne,” she put on one of her big, wrinkly, fake smiles, and I rolled my eyes. Of course it’s Bruce Wayne, I don’t live under a rock, though I might have lived inside of one at the current state of this orphanage, “he might end up adopting you today.”

“Hi y/n.” He stretched his hand out to me for me to shake, I looked to Jessie. Then at his outstretched hand, then at his face. I shook his hand while looking in his eyes and let out a weak ‘hi’.

~

Meeting him didn’t go that well but I seemed to have made somewhat an impression, considering I was now on the drive to Wayne Manor. The drive was already too long and boring, he had stopped trying to ask questions, as I would only give him small mumbled answers.

I looked around the interior of the backseat of his car. I was distracted by something when he said, “I’m sure you don’t need a pocket knife on you, let alone four.”

I was shocked by his words and that he knew how many I had on me, and to be honest, I didn't know why I had four to begin with, it was definitely a little extreme to have that many on me, so I played it off with a shrug.

“I collected them.” I lied, “and I couldn't carry them out in my bag because it got checked by one of the workers, so I kept them on me.”

“You have a lying problem, kid, but you don’t have to lie anymore, you’re safe now.” Was all he responded with as he kept his eyes on the road.

Did he just guess that my lying was a form of protection? He wasn't wrong, but I was still surprised he caught on, how could a billionaire CEO be so perceptive? Was it because he had taken in other orphans and guessed based on their behaviours, or was there more to the story?

[clemelntine]

The Heart killers ep 11 stray thoughts

With accompanying screenshots, cuz I take to many and they can't just go to waste

Once again/still Keen just wants to be included. Now that he has seen Lilly will never see him as equel to his brothers, he is trying to get validation from Bison and Fadel.

Right, cuz you look like you're good at that. We will just pretend that we haven't seen your backbone turn into jelly when you're around Captain

Wait, so they didn't kill him. Where has he been this whole time, in between staging his murder and this scene? Was he just chilling with Nont in Fadel and Bisons kidnapping lair (which they apparently have).

He just knows a guy, casual .

He also just has a whole plan planned out. You'd think he was the one with the training in this shit, not Fadel

The look of concern in his eyes. Because of course, Style was able to spot the slight change in Fadels expression, indicating he was upset/weary/uncomfortable.

Doesn't he say younger brother (nong chai/shai [im not sure how it is written]) here, why would they translate it like that, this makes it seem like he doesnt see Fadel as his brother.

Finally somebody is giving that tattoo the love it deserves.

Facts

Also the first time (or one of the rare occasions) that we see Fadel with genuine, borderline crazy/psychotic anger in his eyes. He's usually the one to be more calm and

Oh, they're using their height, narrowing in on her, forcing her to look up, making her feel small. Stunning, just what she deserves.

-I love you so much; I'd give up my freedom for your safety

-I love you so much; I'd give up my life for your freedom.

Also, btw, 5 years of prison for the number of murders they committed, thats pretty nice. Of course, i wanted them to be free, but looking at it logistically, that is a solid deal

It does imply a timeskip, whomp whomp

Just give me a clear yes or no. Is Bison religious (christian, to be specific)? Cuz this is just a saying and stuff, but also putting it next to all the other christian Bison stuff we've seen, im starting to believe it

Ah, look at that. Fadel got his family (parent), and Bison got his little brother (Babe). These boyfriends are adding way more to their life then you would first assume.

Also, Styles dad immediately suggesting they get married as soon as he realizes they are genuinely dating it ao cute. He has/knows as lil casual-/subtlety as Style does. I guess it's genetic

Omg they are so sweet. Not hiding/secret but private cuz its their communication, their comfort.

I needed this scene to be like an hour long actually, just them cleaning each other with the garden hose, sweetly talking about whatever.

Right. I'm not surprised, I could tell Style was a bitter but like looking at his and Joongs laugh afterwards (and just the absurd inconvenience of it) I'm gonna guess this wasn't scripted, just Dunk. Which.. raises some questions, but we'll keep moving.

Dude was straight up beefing with a child

So he is either assuming hell die a natural death or he's killing himself. Cus i assumed he'd probably die on the job, get killed by someone, but that for sure requires there to be another person. I guess he could also be insinuating that when he dies, he'll be alone in the sense that he is leaving no one behind, no loved ones.

Idk what is sadder him thinking no one would love him when he died or him assuming he'll die by his own hand.

Are they at a graveyard? It doesn't look like it. Because, im not very educated on Thai law, but i can't think it would be legal to just bury someone wherever.

Style earlier the episode saying he'll die for Fadel(s safety) and Fadel saying he'll live for (/with) Style. God, i love them

Glad we are at least acknowledging the absurdity of it.

Are we talking (/joking) about Bison lactating? Cuz that would make that this shows second mpreg/omegaverse reference.

Forever watchfull Style

Forever considerate Style. Even with the garage to work at (and low key co-run) he is willing to give up time, just to keep Fadels dream/passion alive

Did Style fucking make a heart out of the sauce?! Why didn't we get a better shot of that, that is so cute.

So all the other boys his dad mentioned were just one night stands and situationships. Fadel was the first guy he actually wanted to settle down with. (Also, dont take this to mean anything, but it kinda mirrors Joong and Dunk. Joong having had an acting partner before Dunk, but splitting up under unfortunate circumstances, mostly out of their hands. Joong being Dunks' first actor partner, only having had a small unnamed guest role before working together with Joong)

Ive never seen to guys look so sad while eating burgers , like it was actually making me emotional. Cuz there was no big sad outburst or anything, just the everpresent underlying knowledge that this will be the last meal they'll get to share in a long time. Just the subtle sadness in their eyes and the little sniffles. I low key didnt expect them to be this good at conveying such subtle yet intense emotions.

The look in their eyes, i am actually so not okay

Not to be critical or anything but no way in shit that was done by an amateur. Like i get he'd have a pretty steady hand due to his training with guns. Bit not only does Bison usually hold his gun with both hands, it is an entirely different grip and requires such different muscles.

Yo wtf, I wasn't prepared for an emotional scene of just Kant and Style crying

This episode was just so full of cute scenes omg. I have so many notes that are just screenshots of a sweet scene or moment where the only comment I had was just saying aaahhw or some shit. And although I would love to share those with you, Tumblr has an image limit, so unfortunately, this is all I could stuff into one post.

I am a lil weary/concerned with how they are going to finish this all in one episode though. Like we have five years of prison to still cover and only an hour of screentime left.

Favorite scenes

Lillys confrontation was very satisfying

Style and Fadel cleaning eachother of after the paint fight ofc

Kant and Bison in the planetarium (specifically watching the stars)

Fadel and Style at the support group talking things out

Everything in Heart Burger, from the cute cooking together to eating through tears. Absolute perfection.

Kant and Bison tattooing eachother and just the sweetness of that all

And although their goodbye and Kant and Style crying in eachothers arms wasn't fun, it was a really good scene.

Also, there are no in-depth screenshot stats today (this post has already taken too long). Just know I took a total of 245 screenshots (funfact: that is actually more picture than I have of myself on my phone)

[hamiltonfc]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚｡⋆ MOTH TO A FLAME; JUDE BELLINGHAM (Chapter Two)

➤ Summary: Surprisingly, Jude and Noah seem to be getting on well, until Noah does something to get in Kaia's bad book.

➤ Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!OC

➤ Warnings: Swearing, Food mention.

➤ Discussion tag: #my works: moth to a flame (if you ever have any questions about the story, release schedule, etc. my inbox is always open.)

➤ Word Count: 3,171

TAGLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Kaia’s POV

“And this is Jude. My best friend.” Silence hangs in the air for a short while after the introductions. My stomach is tied in a knot while I watch Jude take in my new boyfriend. If it were a stranger perceiving Jude, they’d probably say he’s happy to meet him and that he’s happy for his friend. But I’m not a stranger. His body language, the slight strain in his jaw from the way he’s gritting his teeth and the way his eyes quickly flash to mine tells me everything I need to know.

Jude extends his hand in Noah’s direction. “Hey,” he says while Noah’s hand also leaves the side of his body, grasping Jude’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Noah says, quieter than how Jude said it, nerves an obvious thing he’s feeling. The last time Noah came over, and met my family, I knew he had been really nervous, and rightly so because he knows how much my family means to me. But, when it comes to Jude, I had spoken about him so much, about how we had known each other our whole lives, grown up together. Noah knew that Jude meant just as much to me as my family did. However, there was something else about Jude that didn’t threaten Noah, I don’t think (it had threatened other guys in the past), but there was the small fact of Jude being the man in my life. Jude was Noah’s competition, even though I’d told him he had nothing to worry about in the romantic department, and he believed me, Jude’s status in my life was something for Noah, or any other person who wanted to be with me forever, to reach for.

“Oh, hi, Noah,” my mum walks into the room, carrying two plates of food. “Right, these two are for you,” she nods her head at me and Noah so I promptly take my seat across from Jude, as Noah moves to sit right beside me. “Jude, William will be in in a second with your dinner. He’s currently making sure you both get a couple of extra Yorkshire puddings,” Mum flashes Jude a smile. If there was one thing my dad and Jude had in common it was how much they loved my mum’s Yorkshire puddings. Actually, I’m convinced they are the reason my dad decided to marry my mum in the first place. 

“You know me so well,” Jude says and it’s then that I see Jude’s first genuine smile since Noah walked through the door. But it’s no surprise because Jude has always been like another son to my mum, he always has a smile for her.

****

 “So, Jude,” Dad says when we’re all finally seated and eating. “Are you enjoying it in Madrid?”

“Yeah,” Jude brings his hand up to cover his mouth, pausing his speech while he finishes his food. “It’s great, barely any rain, and the football’s obviously amazing.”

“You know,” it’s my turn to speak now. “These two,” I wave my fork between my parents. “Literally never shut up talking about you. “Like God, forbid we ever see someone we know when they’re out in town because they’ll get a good old rant about how well you’re doing and how proud they are of you. No, but, honestly, I’m starting to think they’re prouder of you than they are of me,” I let out a laugh, everything I said in jest.

“Oh, don’t be silly. But, of course, we’re proud of you, Jude, you know you’re a part of this family,” Mum says. It had always been inevitable that Jude would be part of our family. My mum had been best friends with Jude’s mum, Denise, for years before they even considered having children. So when they did eventually have kids, they became like bonus children for both of them. 

I felt, though, when Mum mentioned that Jude was a part of our family, an awkwardness coming from beside me in Noah’s chair. And although I knew Jude appreciated the comment, and knew that he loved my family just as much as they loved him, I could also tell that he was sensing the same thing I was when I caught his eye.

“So, uhm, Noah,” Jude said, clearing his throat, right before taking a sip of his drink, his attention shifting to the man next to you. “How long are you in England for?”

“Oh, erm, I fly back tomorrow,” Noah nodded, shooting a tight-lipped smile Jude’s way. 

Jude nods. “So, did you like working with our Kai, then?”

“Kai?” Noah furrows his brow, turning towards me and tilting his head to the side in question.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “He’s always been the only one to call me that.” I shrug. My whole life everyone had just opted to use my full name, apart from Jude, who had insisted on calling me Kai pretty much since the moment he could talk. “It annoys me when anyone else calls me that.”

“Oh,” Noah squints his eyes, puzzled, but turns back to just nonetheless. “But to answer your question, Jude, it was great working with her.” 

“Look at that,” Jude points a Noah, but shifts his gaze back to me. “You come with rave reviews and everything.”

I laugh, but Noah’s the one to speak. “I feel like everything I saw about her before we worked together was a rave review, you don’t get called one of the best actors of our generation without doing anything great, do you?”

“Well, I could give her a few reviews just based on her personality, and, let me tell you, not many of them are that great,” Jude smirks are you, bringing his arms up to his chest when I reach over the table to smack him. 

“Oi, watch it,” I can’t help but smile at the pair of them as I slump back in my chair. Watching the two of them interact settled my nerves a little. It was almost a given that anyone I invited into my life had to like Jude. Whether it was a boyfriend or a new friend, my loyalty would always be to Jude over anyone, probably until the day that I got married, so it was better to just make sure that they liked him. Why would I want to know someone who disliked my best friend, someone I’d loved my whole life, anyway?

While Jude and Noah got to talking about everything acting and Jude’s football career, I chose to speak to my parents about my next job, which was starting in February, and my summer plans that would follow. Jude overheard the last part of my conversation, “Are you coming to the Euros? You’ll have wrapped by then, yeah?”

This year’s Euros would be Jude’s third international tournament, and seeing as though I had proudly supported him at the last two, I didn’t see why I wouldn’t be going to this one, too. 

“Well, that depends,” I placed my knife and fork together on my plate, signifying that I was done. “Are you going to get me free tickets?” I raise my eyebrows at him. 

“I’ve already added your name to the family and friends list for tickets, don’t you worry,” Jude tried to wink at me but instead ended up doing a confused blink, to which I let out a giggle. “I can also get tickets for you four as well,” Jude nods towards the rest of my family. “You won’t be in the friends and family section, but I can see what I can do.”

“Thank you for the offer, Jude, darling, but me and Will won’t be able to get any time off work, and these two will still be in school. But we’ll be cheering you on from our living room, there’s no doubt about that. And depending on how well we’re doing, we might book some time off for the final, just in case,” Mum winks at him before pressing a kiss to his temple after she’s gotten up to collect everyone’s plates. 

“Don’t listen to her, Jude,” Olivia spoke for the first time since we sat at the table. “I want a ticket to every game, and I mean every single game. I’d do anything to miss a month of school.”

“Don’t be silly, Olivia, you’ve got your GCSEs,” Dad looks up from his phone where he’s most likely scrolling through Twitter looking at Sky Sports News or something in that vein.

“That’s exactly why I want to go, Dad. So Jude, can you get me tickets?” She turns her body fully towards him, exaggeratedly fluttering her eyelashes at him. 

“You know, Liv, as much as I’d like you there, you really should listen to your dad. Even I had to do my GCSEs,” Jude tells her. 

Olivia scoffs, stands from her chair, and in doing so nearly knocks the thing over.  “God, why’s it only Kaia that ever gets to do fun things?”

She’s halfway up to her room before I get to properly reply but it doesn’t stop me from calling her a sore loser. “Perks of being your biggest fan, I guess,” I shrug at Jude, a small smirk on my lips. “Oh, hey, speaking of the Euros, it completely slipped my mind that you’re working in Germany at the same time, aren’t you, Noah?” I turn to look at him. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m shooting that show in Berlin,” Noah nods. 

“So you’ll be able to go to a few games, then?” My dad looks up from his phone, dragged out of his trance and into the conversation. 

“Maybe,” Noah says. “Not sure how much free time I’ll have, but hopefully I’ll be able to get to a couple.”

“If Kaia has anything to do with it, you’ll be going to every single one that’s played in Berlin,” Noah laughs, nodding as he admits defeat, knowing my father is very much correct. It’s a habit of mine to drag people to football matches, even if they’re not the slightest bit interested. 

While my dad and Noah talk some more about his job in Berlin, I notice Jude shuffling around in his seat out of the corner of my eye. I could just take it as him being uncomfortable after being sat down for almost an hour, but the way he’s looking at my dad and Noah through his lashes, his chin practically against his chest, tells me otherwise. 

“Right, why don’t you kids go hang out upstairs or something while I help clean up this mess?” Dad moves to grab the remaining glasses that are left on the table while Jude, Noah and I get up to go upstairs. 

When in my bedroom, Jude immediately goes to sit at my desk, and I can tell that he’s preparing himself for a potentially awkward situation. His hand rests on the wooden surface, tapping away and I know it’s only a matter of time before he pulls a pen out of the pot so he can fiddle with it. 

I go to flop on my bed, grabbing my childhood teddy that I bring up to rest on my chest. Noah claims his spot beside me, in a much more graceful manner. 

“So,” I say, breaking the silence before it could take over the room. “You wanna watch a film or something?” I look between the two guys in my room, a questioning look on my face.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Jude says. “How about w-”

“Stop right there,” I say, sitting up abruptly. “Before you even ask, no I’m not sitting through Pulp Fiction again. Like yeah, Uma Thurman’s hot as fuck, but she’s also only in it for like ten minutes, so what’s the point?”

“Whoah, I wasn’t even about to say that, dickhead,” Jude annoyingly shakes his head at me while he tosses a rubber in my direction, narrowly missing my head. “I was actually going to suggest that Noah picked what we watched, so, you know, it could save the arguing, and then you started yelling at me anyway.” 

“Oh, okay, good idea,” I turn towards Noah. “Is there anything you’d like to watch, Noah?”

“Hmm, that’s a hard choice,” Noah says, a deep-thinking expression on his face. “I think I’d like to watch Pulp Fiction.”

Jude burst out laughing and I feel my face drop in agony at the thought of watching it again. I’m genuinely about two seconds away from punching my boyfriend right across the face.

“Oh, Kai, you should see your face. Nice one, Noah,” Jude’s holding his stomach at this point. 

“What?” Noah says when Jude calms himself down. “I’ve never seen it.”

That’s the moment both Jude and I stop what we’re doing, turning to face Noah with, what I can only imagine are, the most shocked expressions the two of us could muster. 

I let out a laugh of disbelief before finding the words. “You what?”

“Did I hear you right?” Jude pipes up as well. 

I’ve never seen Pulp Fiction,” Noah repeats, causing me to lay back down, simply staring at the ceiling while I try and get over my shock. 

“An actor who’s never seen Pulp Fiction, well I never.” I raise a finger in the air when I’ve had about ten seconds to process the mindblowing news. “You know what I think we have to do, Jude?” I sit up on my elbows so I can look at him properly. “Pop his Pulp Fiction cherry.”

Jude nods as soon as the suggestion leaves my mouth. “It’s only right.”

“Pulp Fiction it is then,” I’m just about to get up from my bed to grab the DVD, when the door of my bedroom bursts open, with a boisterous seven-year-old on the other side.

Leo immediately rushes over to the side of the bed Noah is at. “Hi, Noah, would you like to come and play Roblox with me?”

The look on Leo’s face is adorable. His big, brown eyes look at my boyfriend with so much adoration, even though he’s only met him once before. But Noah doesn’t seem to like Leo as much as the young boy likes him. 

“Oh, I- uhm,” Noah, fidgets, barely making eye contact with him, while I watch on with furrowed brows. “I don’t know how.”

“Well, that’s fine, I can teach you,” Leo bounces in excitement on the balls of his feet. There’s nothing in the world that makes him happier than when he’s playing Roblox.

“Well, I don’t really want to,” Noah says bluntly, leading to Leo’s face dropping, a little pout forming on his lips. 

“Oh, okay,” Leo says sadly and I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s getting choked up. 

He’s about the leave the room when Jude stands up and walks over to him. Getting on one knee in front of him, he places his hands on the small boy’s shoulders. “Hey, I’ll come and play with you, yeah? we can play that one we were playing last time that you kept beating me at.” Jude picks Leo up, throwing him over his shoulder, causing him to giggle louder than ever. It’s a giggle that can be heard all the way down the hall until they get to Leo’s bedroom. 

My room is silent for a while, allowing me quite a bit of time to think about what I just witnessed. The only thing I can think about, though, is that I didn’t say or do anything while Leo was in the room with me. I should’ve done something to make sure he didn’t get upset, not even a little bit. 

After a little more time, I say, “What the fuck was that?” I turn to Noah, who has barely moved since Jude and Leo left the room. 

“I don’t know, he says, eyes failing to meet mine. 

“That’s not good enough, Noah, you almost made him cry because you didn’t want to play with him. He’d be really upset if it wasn’t for Jude being here,” I let out a sigh. It was bad enough thinking about seeing either of my siblings upset but seeing Leo’s face for that short moment that he thought no one wanted to play with him was heartbreaking. 

“I’m not good with kids, okay?” I have no idea what to do with them,” Noah says, raising his voice a little.

“Then just let him down easily, then, there was no need to be rude. He’s seven, Noah. He only wanted to play with you, you’re never going to get good with kids if you’re never willing to spend even ten minutes with one,” I scowl at him, mad with him for what he did to my little brother. “You know, it’s probably better if we call it a night, I’m quite tired.”

Noah nods. “Okay,” he gets up from the bed. “I’ll see you after Christmas, I suppose,” he leans down to press a kiss to my lips, which I accept, kissing back gently, but he knows that I’m still pissed off at him and that I’m probably going to be like that for a while longer. I shift my body to get off the bed. “It’s fine, I’ll let myself out.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Night. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” he says, closing the door behind him on his way out. 

I fall back onto the bed, once again finding peace against my duvet, a sigh falling from my lips being the last thing I remember before I slip into a deep sleep. 

****

Jude: You okay Sleeping Beauty?

Kaia: God when did I fall asleep? Kaia: Also why are you still up? It’s 3am.

Jude: About 7:30ish. Jude: And I’m not tired but I also wanted to make sure you were okay.

Kaia: I’m doing fine. Kaia: Just shocked me a little that’s all. Kaia: Was Leo okay when you were playing with him?

Jude: Yeah but he did ask why Noah didn’t want to play with him so I just told him that he knew I wanted to play with him instead. Jude: But what he did was really fucked up.

Kaia: I know. Kaia: I'm glad he’s not really upset about it though. Kaia: And thank you for saying what you did. I think I’m still going to take him out for ice cream or something tomorrow tho just to make sure he’s okay.

Jude: No problem and yeah that’ll be good for him. Jude: So did he just leave?

Kaia: no I said it’d probably be best if we called it a night. Kaia: I made it clear that I was pissed at him so that’s why I think he was so fine with leaving early.

Jude: You did the right thing he can’t talk to a kid like that without knowing that he did was wrong. Jude: Anyway I’m off to bed. See you on Christmas day. x

Kaia: Yep, goodnight. x

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