Tumgik
#this is one of my favorite things ive written
mononijikayu · 3 days
Text
stuff we did — geto suguru.
Tumblr media
“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?” Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.” You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?” Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.” You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”
GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU;
WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/ Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Suguru, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Comfort, Falling In Love, Pining, Slice of Life, Humor, Domesticity, Miscarriage, Infertility, Character Death, Depiction of Infertility, Depiction of Hospital Visit, Depiction of Illness, Depiction of Old Age, Mention of Miscarriage, Mention of Infertility, Mention of Character Death, This Is One Of My Favorites In A Long Whille, My Writing Vault Is Just Angst;
WORDS: 8.9k words.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was written a while while back and i just finished proof reading it to suit what i wanted to see. this was inspired by both queen of tears and the film up, which was just the most beautiful movie ive seen over and over. i hope you enjoy this a lot and that you'll be just as moved as me. i promise i'll be back with fluff soon enough!!! i genuinely cried at the end. anyway, i hope you love it. i love you guys!!! thank you for reading <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip!
A WHOLE LIFETIME WAS WAITING FOR HIM. At ten years old, Suguru Geto was a dreamer with a spark in his eyes that hinted at a life full of exploration and wonder.
▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃
It was an ordinary afternoon, the sun casting long shadows as you wandered through the neighborhood, when you stumbled upon the abandoned house. Its once-grand façade was now a patchwork of peeling paint and overgrown vines, and the wooden fence sagged in places, as if it were barely holding on to its secrets.
You had been intrigued by the house for weeks, often imagining what mysteries lay behind its dust-covered windows. That day, you decided to finally investigate, only to find someone already there. Suguru was crouched by the front gate, peering through the rusty bars with a look of intense concentration.
“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?”
Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.”
You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?”
Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.”
You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”
Suguru’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Let’s make it our clubhouse. We can turn it into our secret base where we plan all our adventures.”
The two of you both pushed open the creaky gate and made your way up the overgrown path to the front door. Inside, dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight filtering through the broken windows. The air was musty, but the promise of discovery filled you with a sense of excitement.
“This place is amazing!” Suguru exclaimed, running his hand along an old wooden beam. “Imagine all the things we could do here, don’t you think? We could have treasure hunts, build secret compartments, and even create maps of our adventures!”
You smiled, already swept up in the excitement. “And we could scrapbook all of our adventures. I’ve got a ton of stickers and colored pens at home. We could make it like a journal of our explorations!”
Suguru’s eyes lit up with delight. “That sounds perfect. We’ll make this place the coolest clubhouse ever!”
With the possibilities swirling in both your minds, you turned to Suguru, realizing you hadn't properly introduced yourselves yet. “Oh, by the way, I’m…….”
Suguru grinned, his enthusiasm still bubbling over. “Suguru Geto. Looks like we’re gonna be partners in adventure!”
The two of you spent hours exploring every nook and cranny of the house. Suguru’s enthusiasm was contagious, pulling you deeper into the magic of the place. Every corner held a new discovery, a forgotten relic of time that sparked your imaginations. You both laughed as you uncovered old, dusty furniture, imagining all the stories it could tell.
Suguru, always the dreamer, crouched by an ancient-looking wardrobe and peered inside. “What if this belonged to a pirate?” he mused, brushing away cobwebs. “Maybe they stashed their maps and treasures in here before sailing off for another adventure.”
You chuckled, running your fingers over the faded carvings on a wooden chair. “Or maybe it was a writer, sitting here every night by candlelight, crafting tales of far-off lands.”
Suguru stood up, eyes gleaming. “We could be the next storytellers! We can make up stories about this place—maybe even start our own treasure hunt for future explorers.”
“I love that idea!” you grinned, already envisioning the elaborate maps and clues you could create together. “This whole house could be our playground.”
As you explored further, you found hidden doorways and forgotten passageways, each discovery filling you both with a sense of wonder. There was an old attic with creaky floorboards that groaned under your weight, and a cellar that held shelves of ancient, dusty jars—relics of a time long past. Suguru’s energy never faltered, and neither did yours. It was as if the house had become an extension of your shared imagination, every forgotten room a new world to explore.
At one point, Suguru turned to you, breathless from excitement. “Can you believe how much potential this place has? We could make it anything we want! A fortress, a secret hideout, a museum for all the stuff we find!”
You nodded eagerly, already planning how you’d decorate each room with artifacts from your adventures. “We’ll turn it into our own world.”
Suguru’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “We’ve gotta make sure no one else finds it, though. This is our secret spot.”
“Deal!” you said, sealing the pact with a grin.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the house, Suguru turned to you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, one day we’re going to see the whole world. Just like those great explorers. This clubhouse will be our starting point.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of deep connection with Suguru. “I’d like that. I think we’ll have the best adventures together.”
▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃
YOU THINK THAT ADVENTURE WAS THE WAY TO GETO SUGURU’S HEART. When you started to get to know him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Suguru’s eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement whenever the topic of exploration came up.
It was as though each conversation opened a window into his boundless curiosity, and you found yourself drawn to the light in his gaze, the way it brightened with every new idea or story he shared. 
Geto Suguru’s fascination with the world wasn’t just a passing interest—it was a deep passion, woven into the very fabric of who he was. He could turn even the smallest details into an adventure, transforming mundane objects or places into portals to other worlds. You can tell that he was a born story–teller. Born to know the wonders of the wider world.
Whenever he spoke of famous explorers, his voice would rise with enthusiasm, as if their courage and daring lived within him. Marco Polo’s travels along the Silk Road, Amelia Earhart’s fearless flight into the unknown—Suguru recounted their tales with such vivid detail, it felt as though you were right there alongside them, venturing into uncharted lands.
“He didn’t just travel, you know what I mean?” Suguru once said of Marco Polo, eyes alight with admiration. “That guy managed to help open some doors to a whole new world. Can you imagine that? Being the first to set foot somewhere no one even knew existed?”
You nodded, already swept up in the vision he painted as you kicked your feet. “It’s like the whole world was waiting to be found.”
Suguru smiled, and there was a quiet thrill in his voice. “Exactly! That’s the magic of it—everything’s an adventure if you look at it the right way.”
It didn’t take long before his excitement became infectious. These days, you just feel like that when you are around Suguru. Just as quickly, you could only find yourself equally captivated by the idea of exploring far-off places and uncovering their mysteries. Geto Suguru had a way of making even the ordinary seem extraordinary. 
He would point out things that others might pass by without a second glance—a strange rock, an oddly shaped tree, or even the patterns in the clouds—and turn them into puzzles waiting to be solved. His mind was always buzzing with “what-ifs” and “maybes” sparking conversations that seemed to stretch on for hours as you both imagined worlds within worlds, hidden just beneath the surface of reality.
“I wonder what it would be like to be Amelia Earhart too!” he mused once, as you both sat on a hill, gazing at the horizon. “To fly into the unknown, chasing the horizon, not knowing what’s on the other side but going anyway.”
“Scary, but exciting, don’t you think?” you replied, feeling a twinge of that same wanderlust Suguru seemed to carry with him at all times. “It’s like you’re both lost and free at the same time.”
Suguru nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. The unknown is terrifying, but that’s what makes it so… beautiful. There’s always something more to discover. And I…I just can’t wait to find out all of it!”
It was moments like these that deepened your bond. His wonderment was contagious, and soon you began to see the world through his eyes, where even the smallest things held the promise of adventure. Whether it was the forgotten corners of an old house or the distant lands of long-gone explorers, with Suguru, everything became part of an ongoing quest. 
You realized that it wasn’t just about the places you would explore, but the way he looked at the world—with a wide-eyed excitement that made you feel like every day held a new mystery, waiting to be uncovered. And you wanted to be there with him. Just beside him. Because to be with him, you like to think that you would find nothing but a wonder if you were there.
He had a knack for finding the magic in the mundane, and it opened your own bright eyes to the wonders around you. What once seemed ordinary now felt like it held endless possibilities, all thanks to Suguru’s infectious spirit. 
He showed you that adventure wasn’t just something that happened in faraway places—it could be anywhere, even in the most unexpected moments. You didn’t have to cross oceans to find excitement; sometimes, it was right in front of you, if only you knew where to look. And with Suguru, you were learning how to see it.
This weekend afternoon, as you and Suguru sat cross-legged on the floor of your clubhouse, surrounded by colorful supplies and old maps, Suguru began sharing his latest dream with you. The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, casting a warm, golden light on the room.
“You know…..” Suguru said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “I read about this amazing place called the Himalayas. It’s full of towering mountains, and some of them are so high that they touch the sky. Can you imagine climbing one of those?”
You looked up from your sketchbook, eyes wide with wonder. “That sounds incredible! What would it be like to stand on top of one of those mountains?”
Suguru’s face broke into a smile as he imagined the scene. You like to think that he had the most beautiful smile in the world. “It would be breathtaking. You’d feel like you’re on top of the world. And there’s this special mountain called Everest—people say it’s like touching the edge of the heavens!”
With a gleeful chuckle, Suguru grabbed a pencil and began sketching a mountain range in your scrapbook. “We should definitely put this in our adventure book. We’ll draw mountains and imagine ourselves climbing them.”
You nodded eagerly, already picturing the pages of your scrapbook filled with sketches and notes. “Absolutely. And we can write about all the things we’d see and do. Maybe we’ll even draw ourselves in climbing gear, standing triumphantly at the summit!”
As the weeks went by, the scrapbook became a canvas for your shared dreams. Each page was a tribute to the places Suguru talked about with such passion. There were intricate drawings of ocean vistas, with waves crashing against rocky shores, and sprawling cityscapes with towering skyscrapers and bustling streets.
Geto Suguru’s descriptions were so vivid that you could almost hear the sounds and smell the scents of these distant lands. He just knew how to give you the wide world to you in the vibrant brighteness no one could.
As you worked on the scrapbook together, Suguru’s excitement reached a new peak. “I’ve been reading about this incredible city called Istanbul. It’s where East meets West, and there are markets full of colorful spices and beautiful mosaics everywhere. I think it would be amazing to see it in person.”
You looked at the sketch Suguru had just added, depicting a bustling market scene with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. “It looks so lively and full of culture. I’d love to experience it with you. Maybe we could even learn a few phrases in Turkish before we go.”
Suguru nodded, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Yes! And we can try all the different foods and maybe even buy some souvenirs to bring back to our clubhouse.”
As the scrapbook filled up, it became a treasure trove of aspirations and memories. The house, once an abandoned relic, was now a haven for your dreams, where the world beyond your doorstep felt just a little bit smaller and a whole lot more reachable.
As you look at him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your scrapbook would be an adventure as long as you had him.
IT WAS EASY TO SEE THAT YOU LIKED HIM. As the years passed, as you both grew older—the bond between you and Suguru deepened in ways that neither of you had anticipated. Nothing has changed and yet it has.
▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃
You couldn’t even understand how you could describe it. What had begun as a playful friendship, sparked by shared adventures and dreams, evolved into a profound connection that anchored both of your lives moving forward.
The seasons changed, and so did the nature of your relationship. As the crisp air of autumn gave way to the first frost of winter, something subtle yet profound shifted between you two.
Your weekends, once filled with the solitary pursuit of sketching mountains far off in the distance or wistfully dreaming of cities you had yet to explore, began to take on a new rhythm. These quiet moments of creativity were now shared, woven into times of meaningful conversations that deepened your connection.
The clubhouse, once a refuge for your art and ideas, had evolved alongside you both. It was no longer just a place to retreat but had grown into a cozy home filled with warmth and a sense of belonging. The walls, once bare and practical, were now alive with a collage of your memories—scrapbook pages pinned up like trophies of the adventures you’d had together. 
Here, in the dim light of your clubhouse-turned-home, time seemed to slow. Conversations stretched long into the evening, filled with laughter, confessions, and sometimes a comfortable silence that spoke more than words ever could.
You realized that it wasn't just about the places you wanted to visit or the mountains you hoped to climb. It was about these moments—right here, right now—that had been shaping the most important journey of all: the one you were taking together.
You and Suguru sat on the porch of your clubhouse. The place had become a sanctuary for the two of you, and tonight, it felt even more so. Wrapped in thick, warm blankets, you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft gold, pink, and lavender. The fading light bathed the world in a warm, almost magical glow, a contrast to the growing chill in the air.
But something else lingered in the quiet of that evening—an unspoken tension. Suguru, always steady and thoughtful, had been unusually silent. You could sense that something weighed heavily on his mind. His usual animated presence, the one that balanced your own, seemed subdued. 
He stared out at the trees, their leaves a patchwork of fiery reds and oranges, but his thoughts were clearly somewhere else. The contemplative look on his face was deeper than the usual moments of introspection he had.
You knew him well enough to understand that silence was part of who he was—he often found comfort in it—but this was different. This wasn’t just quiet; it was an absence of something.
The air, cool against your skin, seemed to press in, amplifying the stillness between you. It felt as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to be said. You didn’t push him; you knew better than that.
With Suguru, patience was key. He always opened up in his own time, and when he did, it was always worth the wait. You could tell he was wrestling with something important—something that couldn’t be rushed.
You glanced over at him, his face softened by the golden light of the setting sun. His expression was unreadable, yet you could sense the conflict beneath the surface.
It was as though the quiet had become a shield for him, a way to protect himself from whatever thoughts he was trying to sort out. You wondered if he even knew how to begin talking about it, or if he was still trying to make sense of it for himself.
The porch creaked as you shifted slightly in your seat, the only sound breaking the stillness. The leaves continued to fall, gently drifting to the ground, but the world around you felt frozen in that moment, waiting for Suguru to speak. Whatever was on his mind, you knew it was important, and you were ready to listen when he was ready to share.
You glanced at him, sensing that something was on his mind. “Hey, Suguru.” you said gently, “is everything okay? You seem a bit… distant.”
Suguru turned to you, his eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he began slowly, “about us, and about everything we’ve shared.”
You felt a flutter of nerves in your chest but kept your voice steady. “What about us?”
Suguru took a deep breath, his fingers intertwined with yours. “You know how we’ve always dreamed about exploring the world together? Well, lately, I’ve been thinking that the greatest adventure of all is the one we’re already on. The one where we’re building a life together.”
You looked at him, your heart racing as you realized what he was about to say. Suguru’s face softened into a gentle smile, and he continued, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. You’ve been my partner in every adventure, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”
The world seemed to pause as you processed his words. Your feelings for Suguru had grown from admiration and friendship into a deep, abiding love. You had felt it for some time but hadn’t fully acknowledged it until this moment.
“I love you too, Suguru.” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re my best friend, my confidant, and the person I want to share my life with.”
Suguru’s bright purple eyes sparkled with happiness, and he reached out to hold you close. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you felt a profound sense of belonging. From that evening onward, your relationship transformed. 
You both began to plan not just for the next adventure but for a future together. You talked about dreams of traveling the world, but also about building a home, starting a family, and creating a life rich with shared experiences. 
The future you envisioned was no longer just about distant places or grand plans; it was about the everyday moments and the life you would build side by side. You found joy in the small things—quiet dinners, laughter over shared memories, and the simple pleasure of being together. And for each of those moments, you would both be together. For every last one.
And from that moment, everything felt like a flash, a blur of time passing with both rapidity and grace. Years slipped through your fingers like sand, but each one seemed to deepen the bond you and Suguru shared. 
You both arrived at the house, this time not as wide-eyed dreamers, but as people ready to take action. You were equipped with the resources, knowledge, and expertise that had been hard-earned over the years. What once seemed impossible now felt within reach.
The house had transformed, much like the relationship you shared. The wild, overgrown vines that had once snaked across its facade had been cut away, revealing the clean lines of the structure underneath.
The sagging fence, which had leaned precariously for years, had been replaced by a sturdy, welcoming one. Even the gate—the one that had creaked and stuck when you were kids—now swung open smoothly, inviting you in with a sense of ease and possibility. 
Standing there together, gazing at the house, the nostalgia hit you both in waves. You could still remember the first time you stumbled upon it, back when the future felt like a distant, far-off dream. But now, it wasn’t distant anymore. It was here, within your grasp.
The silence between you was comfortable, filled with anticipation and a shared understanding. You both knew this wasn’t just about restoring an old house. It was about building something together—something that was uniquely yours.
This house, with all its history and imperfections, was about to become the home you had always envisioned. It wasn’t just a physical space. It was a reflection of everything you had been through, everything you had grown into, and everything you had yet to become.
As you exchanged a glance with Suguru, you didn’t need words to know what he was thinking. The years had brought change, but they had also brought clarity. Together, you had always been building something—first with your dreams, then with your actions. And now, you were ready to take that final step, to make this place your home.
“Look at it, baby!” Suguru exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as he gazed at the house. His eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement and pride you hadn't seen in a while. “It’s incredible to see how far we’ve come. I remember the first time we explored this place, imagining what it could become.”
You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you took in the sight before you. “It’s amazing. It feels like we’re finally turning our dreams into reality.”
The house had been a vision for so long—an idea you had held onto through thick and thin. Now, as you stood in front of the freshly painted exterior, with the sun glinting off the windows and the scent of fresh grass in the air, it was hard to believe that this place had once been nothing more than an abandoned shell. But it was no longer just an idea or a distant goal. It was real, solid, and yours.
Suguru picked up a paint roller, dipped it into the bucket of soft, pastel blue paint you had both agreed on, and turned toward the wall with a grin. “This is the fun part, don’t you think?” he said, rolling a stripe of color onto the previously bare wood. “It’s like coloring outside the lines, but now we get to make the lines too.”
You laughed and grabbed your own roller, eager to join in. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, mister. This is a team effort.”
Soon, the two of you were painting side by side, your laughter filling the crisp air as you carefully applied the vibrant colors to your home. The soft hum of birds chirping in the distance and the gentle rustling of leaves set the perfect backdrop for your playful banter. Every brushstroke felt like a step closer to bringing your shared vision to life.
At one point, Suguru turned toward you, his roller dripping with paint, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “You know what’s missing here?” he asked, his voice playful.
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be suspicious. “What?”
“An artist's touch!” Before you could react, Suguru flicked his roller in your direction, sending a spray of pastel blue paint across your shirt.
Your eyes widened in mock horror as you looked down at the splatters of paint now decorating your clothes. “Suguru!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-gasping. “You’re in so much trouble!”
Without hesitation, you dipped your roller into the paint and aimed it squarely at him, sending a cascade of blue across his chest. Suguru's bright purple eyes went wide in surprise, then he broke into a wide grin.
“Oh, it’s on now,” he said, stepping toward you with his paintbrush raised like a sword. What started as an innocent painting session quickly turned into a playful paint war, the walls momentarily forgotten as you splattered each other with streaks of pastel blue. 
You squealed as he rushed off with a dash and followed you. His laughter was just as much the best part of the progress you think. It was like the music that was missing in your life. And it never stopped that afternoon and you were content.
The soft spring breeze carried your laughter, and for a few moments, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Suguru, in the moment, covered in paint and joy.
At some point, you collapsed onto the grass together, breathless from laughter and covered in splashes of color. The house loomed behind you, its newly painted walls gleaming in the sunlight, but all you could focus on was the way Suguru looked at you, his face smeared with paint, his eyes filled with warmth and happiness.
He reached over and gently wiped a smudge of blue from your cheek, his touch tender. “Look at us, baby.” he said softly, his voice a mix of awe and affection. “We’re a mess, but this—everything we’ve built together—it’s beautiful.”
You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Yeah babe.” you agreed, your heart full. “It really is.”
Just like that, this once old abandoned soul was starting to come back to life before your eyes. It reminded you of all those dreams you had shared with Suguru for so many years. And in that moment, as you sat in the grass with your husband—covered in paint, laughter, and love—you realized that this, right here, was the real dream coming true.
That cool summer night as you both sat together on the porch of your newly renovated home, watching the sunset paint the sky with shades of pink and orange, Suguru turned to you with a contented smile. You had never seen him this happy in your entire lives together. And it suited him. More than you think he’d understand. 
“I never imagined this day would come, but here we are. Our adventures didn’t just remain on paper anymore, baby. They became a reality now.”
You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. “It’s incredible. We’ve seen so much of the world, and now we have this beautiful home that’s a reflection of our journey.”
With your home now complete, you and Suguru embarked on a new chapter of your life.
▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃
LIFE EVEN IN ITS MOST MUNDANE WAS EVERYTHING. As the years went by, your and Suguru’s paths continued to align in the most fulfilling ways. Suguru, inspired by his love for learning and his experiences, decided to become a teacher, just like you.
Both of you found immense satisfaction in shaping young minds and sharing your passion for knowledge. Your combined efforts in education became a cornerstone of your lives, and it was a field where your love for exploration and discovery seamlessly translated into inspiring others.
Your old friends, who had once joined you in those early childhood adventures, also found their way into the field of education. Together, you formed a tight-knit community of educators, all driven by a shared passion for helping students explore their potential. The clubhouse, once the backdrop for your childhood dreams, had become a symbol of your commitment to fostering curiosity and creativity in the next generation.
Even your nights you spent in your home were often filled with lively discussions about teaching methods, innovative ideas for the classroom, and the exciting possibilities of new educational tools.
Your love of exploration, once confined to distant lands, now found a new outlet in the classroom. You and Suguru worked together on projects that encouraged students to think critically and explore the world around them, just as you had done as children.
Suguru, with a nostalgic smile, traced his fingers over a particularly cherished page. “Remember this, baby?” he said, pointing to a sketch of the Himalayas. “We were so excited about climbing those mountains. And now, look at us—living our dreams and sharing them with others.”
You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I do remember. And I’m so grateful for everything we’ve experienced together. This scrapbook is a reminder of how far we’ve come and all the dreams we’ve made real.”
As you both looked through the pages, you realized that the scrapbook was more than just a record of your adventures—it was a reflection of your journey as a couple. It symbolized not only the places you had been and the things you had done but also the love and partnership that had grown alongside them. Everything was perfect. Nothing could be better.
Your careers were flourishing, and life with Geto Suguru was a tapestry of shared happiness. The bond between you had only deepened over time, each day bringing a new layer of intimacy and understanding. 
It was as though your relationship had found a perfect equilibrium, a serene joy that seemed like it could stretch on indefinitely. Your home was filled with the warmth of laughter, the comfort of companionship, and the contentment of having achieved many of your dreams. But still, you felt like something was missing. And your husband knew it too.
Suguru, with his usual thoughtful demeanor, was the first to broach the topic. “You know, baby….” he began, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of contemplation. “We've built something incredible together. Our careers, our lovely home… Everything feels right. But have you ever thought about what might come next?”
You turned to face him, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” you asked, sensing that there was something more beneath his words.
Suguru hesitated for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Well, we’ve talked about our future in many ways, but lately, I’ve been thinking about children. About…..about what it might be like to have a family of our own.”
Your husband’s tender words hung in the air, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The idea had surfaced in fleeting thoughts and half-formed conversations, but hearing it out loud made it feel more real, more tangible.
You considered his words carefully. The thought of children had always been a distant possibility, a dream tucked away among other aspirations. But now, in the warmth of the evening and the comfort of your home, it feels different. It was no longer just an abstract idea; it was something you were both ready to explore.
“I’ve thought about it too, babe.” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “It’s strange how this feeling crept up on us. I suppose we always knew that our life together would be about more than just us, that there would be something else to share our love and our world with.”
Suguru reached out and took your hand, his touch reassuring and full of promise. “I think it could be a beautiful next step for us, you know? I know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges, but I can’t help but feel that it’s the right time.”
You squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. “I agree. It feels like we’re ready to open up to this new chapter. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else but you.”
And that settled your desires to begin unfolding. You both wanted it — to have a family together, to raise a child that would be a reflection of your love. The excitement was palpable, filling the days with a hopeful kind of anticipation. You tried, again and again, but it wasn’t long before the first signs appeared, subtle at first. A growing worry gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, willing everything to be okay.
Then came the miscarriage.
The room was heavy with silence, the kind that feels suffocating and oppressive. Your eyes were red from the tears you had shed, each one a testament to the depth of your loss. The sterile whiteness of the doctor's office seemed to mock the vibrant dreams you had once held.
The doctor’s words were like a sharp blade cutting through the haze of hope you had been clinging to. “You won’t be able to have children, Mrs. Geto. I am so sorry.” he said softly, his voice compassionate but firm. 
The words hung in the air, each syllable a painful puncture to the fragile balloon of hope that had floated between you and Suguru. At that moment, the world seemed to fall apart.
The colors of the room blurred together, the sounds of the doctor’s voice faded into a distant hum, and the only thing that remained was the crushing weight of the news. It was as if the very foundation of your dreams had shattered, leaving behind a void that seemed too vast to fill.
The future you had imagined—of shared late-night feedings, tiny feet pattering around the house, the joy of watching a child grow—was now nothing more than a distant, unreachable fantasy. The dream you and Suguru had so carefully built together crumbled, leaving behind an aching emptiness that felt like a gaping hole in your heart.
You looked at Suguru, and in his eyes, you saw the same devastation mirrored back at you. The strength and support that had always been a cornerstone of your relationship now felt fragile, as if the very fabric of your shared hopes had been torn apart. His hand reached for yours, trembling slightly, and you could feel the shared grief pulsing between you.
As you and Suguru drove home, the silence in the car was almost unbearable. The world outside seemed muted, as if the colors and sounds had been drained away. The roads stretched out in front of you, but they felt meaningless, like they led nowhere important. The weight of the news settled heavily on your shoulders, and neither of you knew how to break the quiet.
For days, you were unapproachable, lost in a fog of devastation. The loss felt like a gaping chasm that nothing could fill. Conversations became infrequent and strained, and even the comfort of routine seemed distant and hollow. Suguru was there, his presence a constant but silent support, and though he tried to offer solace, the words and gestures seemed inadequate against the depth of your shared grief.
The stillness in the house felt almost oppressive. You found yourself sitting alone in the backyard, the garden now a quiet reflection of your internal turmoil. The familiar sight of your favorite flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves seemed to offer no solace. You sat there, wrapped in a blanket of melancholy, trying to make sense of the void that had settled in your life.
Suguru came out and joined you, quietly taking a seat beside you on the patio. He took a deep breath, the kind that seemed to carry the weight of the world. For a moment, he just sat there, gathering his thoughts, his presence a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions.
“You know, baby…..” he began softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence, “it’s okay to feel like this. It’s okay to not have all the answers or to be okay right away.”
His words were simple but carried a depth of understanding that only someone who truly cared could offer. You turned to look at him, seeing the pain and determination in his eyes.
“I don’t know how to move past this.” you admitted, your voice cracking with emotion.
“I know.” He whispers to you with tenderness. Tenderness you will never truly deserve. “But you know, baby…..We’ll always be together.”
“I know that.” you retorted, your voice tight and strained as you tried to contain the wave of emotion threatening to break free. “But I just… I wish I could have given you a child, you know?  A child that’s a mix of you and me. I just…”
Your words trailed off, leaving a raw vulnerability exposed. The weight of your regrets hung heavily in the air, mingling with the sorrow that had become a constant companion. Suguru’s eyes, usually so full of life and energy, now reflected a deep, pained empathy. 
His purple orbs roamed over your face, taking in the sight of you so broken and anguished. The sight of you in such distress was almost too much for him to bear. His own heart ached at the realization that there was little he could do to ease your pain.
“Does our lifetime of love need to leave evidence?” Suguru asked softly, his voice tender yet resolute. “Does…..does it need more than what there is?”
His question wasn’t just a consolation; it was a reflection of his deep belief in the essence of your relationship. You turned to him, the tears welling in your eyes now spilling over, blurring your vision. The raw honesty in his words cut through the fog of your grief, reaching the core of your heart.
“We have each other now, baby.” Suguru continued, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “And we love each other. That’s all that matters.”
His words were simple but powerful, a balm to the wound that had seemed insurmountable. His words broke something inside of you, not in a painful way, but in a way that let all the pent-up sorrow flow out. 
You sobbed, burying your face in your hands, and Suguru wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you cried. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to. In his embrace, in the warmth of his presence, you found the reassurance you didn’t know you needed.
You cried for the loss, for the future you had dreamed of, but you also cried for the love you still had. Suguru was right. You had each other, and in that love, you found strength. That’s all that truly mattered.
Geto Suguru held you close as your tears flowed, his hands gently rubbing your back, whispering words of comfort that barely reached your ears. But his presence, steady and unwavering, spoke louder than any words could. 
In his arms, you found a fragile sense of peace, a reminder that even in this moment of heartbreak, you weren’t alone. His touch was familiar, grounding, and you turned to look at him. There was a tenderness in his eyes, a deep understanding that made your heart ache in the best way. He smiled at you.
“I know this isn’t what we imagined.” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I’ve been thinking… Maybe it’s okay if our love doesn’t leave a legacy in the way we thought. Maybe our love can just be… us.”
You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words settling into your heart. Suguru had always been your anchor, the person who knew how to pull you back when the world felt too overwhelming. In that moment, you realized that maybe he was right. 
Maybe your love didn’t need to be measured by the future you had imagined, by the children you thought you would have. Maybe it was enough to have each other, to share this life together, and to hold onto the love that had always been there. Maybe this was all there has to be. Maybe….this was enough.
Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t filled with sorrow. You squeezed Suguru’s hand, leaning into his warmth. “I love you.” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “I love you so much.”
He pulled you into his arms once more, his lips brushing against your temple. “I love you too. Always.”
In that quiet moment, you realized that while the future you had once dreamed of was no longer possible, there was still a future waiting for you. A future where it was just the two of you, building a life together, creating memories that were uniquely yours. And as long as you had Suguru by your side, that was enough.
▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃
YOU LIKE TO THINK THAT YOUR HUSBAND’S DREAMS WERE BEAUTIFUL. Even after everything, your husband Suguru had always been a dreamer. He never gave up even after the rollercoaster life had dealt you. Everything you both went through—the heartache, the healing—he found a new dream. It was no longer about building a family or leaving a legacy. 
His new dream was much simpler, yet so much more meaningful: seeing the world with you. He wanted to explore every corner of the earth by your side, to share in the beauty of new experiences together, and to make memories that would last a lifetime.
There was one place, in particular, that you had always talked about—Grindelwald. The snow-covered mountains, the crisp winter air, the breathtaking views from atop the peaks.
It was a dream you had held close for as long as Suguru could remember, and now, it had become his dream too. He wanted nothing more than to take you there, to hike those snow-dusted trails and see the world unfold beneath you, together.
The two of you started saving for the trip, setting aside small amounts whenever you could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the dream alive. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
Each time you neared your goal, something else would come up—unexpected expenses, repairs, emergencies. And each time, you had to dip into your savings, pushing the dream further and further away.
The years passed, and the dream remained just that—a dream. Life after all was always busy, life had always had other plans. But you were just happy, being with him. Being together was more than enough.
Yet, Geto Suguru never gave up. He never forgot the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about seeing pictures of Grindelwald, and he was determined to make it happen one day, no matter how long it took.
Then, one quiet evening, many years later, your husband Suguru sat across from you, his once dark hair now streaked with bright vibrant silver. His hands were still steady, but time had softened their strength. He looked at you with the same love he always had, and there was something different in his eyes—something hopeful, something excited.
“I have a surprise for you, baby.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two plane tickets, holding them out for you to see.
Your heart skipped a beat as you read the destination: Switzerland.
“We’re going, finally!” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re finally going to see Grindelwald.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, a cascade of emotions threatening to spill over, but before you could voice a response, an unfamiliar, sharp ache deep within your body made you pause. It was a discomfort that had been gnawing at you for some time, a persistent shadow that you had tried to ignore. 
At first, you dismissed it as stress or perhaps a lingering side effect of the emotional turmoil you had been through. But as the days turned into weeks, the ache intensified, becoming an unwelcome companion in your life.
You tried to push through it, attributing it to the residual strain of the recent loss and the emotional weight you were carrying. Yet, the pain was relentless, and it wasn’t long before you knew you could no longer ignore it. After several visits to various doctors, numerous tests, and consultations that felt endless, the diagnosis finally came: cancer.
The words hit you like a physical blow, the gravity of the diagnosis sinking into your bones. Cancer. It was a term that seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implications and uncertainty. The doctors’ explanations, though thorough and compassionate, felt distant and detached, as if they were speaking a language you couldn’t quite grasp.
The news was like a seismic shift in your world. It felt as though everything you had been trying to hold together was unraveling. The tears that had been welling up before were now flowing freely, mingling with the shock and fear that gripped you. You tried to process it all, but the weight of the diagnosis was overwhelming. It was as if the universe had decided to compound your grief with a new and daunting challenge.
You found yourself grappling with the implications of the diagnosis, trying to come to terms with the reality of what lay ahead. The future that had once seemed so full of potential and hope was now clouded by uncertainty. The plans and dreams you had cherished were overshadowed by the looming shadow of illness.
Suguru was there, his presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos. His own emotions were a mix of concern and determination, but he tried to remain strong for you. In the quiet moments, as you both grappled with the weight of the diagnosis, he held you close, offering a solace that words couldn’t fully convey.
Everything about it was a crushing blow. But Suguru held firm and so did you. You wanted to fight it. After all that time, your dreams together were about to come true. You didn’t want to give up just yet. You wanted to live on. You wanted to go. You wanted to have more time. With him. 
But life wasn’t always as one wants it to be. You were admitted to the hospital soon after, the trip to Switzerland slipping away, replaced by sterile rooms and treatment plans. Geto Suguru was devastated. He had waited so long, saved so carefully, and now, just when it seemed possible, this had happened.
But as you lay in the hospital bed, weakened but still filled with love for the man sitting beside you, you knew there was something more important than the trip, more important than the dream that never came to be.
You called him over, and with trembling hands, you handed him the scrapbook you had kept over the years—the one filled with all the adventures you’d already shared, the places you had seen together, the memories you had created.
“You’ve always been my greatest adventure, you know?” you said softly, your voice a little hoarse. “We may never get to see Grindelwald together, but that doesn’t mean the dream has to end.”
Your husband Suguru looked at you, his eyes filled with tears, unable to speak. 
“I want you to keep making memories, Suguru. I want you to keep having adventures. Take the tickets, go see the world… live for both of us. Because as long as you’re alive, as long as you’re making memories, there will always be evidence that I live on too.”
Suguru’s hand tightened around yours, his tears finally falling. He shook his head, unable to imagine a world without you, without your shared dream. But you smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek.
“You’ve always been the dreamer, Suguru.” you whispered. “Don’t let that part of you die. Keep dreaming, keep living for me, for us. Our love… it’s more than just a place or a moment. It’s a lifetime of memories. And as long as you’re out there, making new ones, I’ll be with you.”
Suguru nodded, his heart breaking but understanding what you meant. You had always been his greatest love, and now, even in this painful moment, you were still giving him the strength to carry on.
As he sat by your side, holding your hand tightly, Suguru made a silent promise—to keep your love alive, to honor the life you had shared, and to one day, perhaps, stand atop those snow-covered mountains of Grindelwald, knowing that you were with him in every step, in every breath, in every memory he made.
▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃
HE WASN’T GETTING ANY YOUNGER. But he still had a promise to fulfill to you. Geto Suguru stood at the base of the trail, staring up at the towering Alps, their snow-covered peaks gleaming under the summer sun.
The path before him was steep, challenging, but it was the journey he had promised to make—for you, for both of you. He reached up to touch the small locket that hung around his neck, a picture of you carefully tucked inside. Your smile was his anchor, even now, long after you were gone.
The climb was grueling, especially for someone his age. His knees ached, his breath came in short, shallow gasps, but he pressed on. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, reminding him of the dream you had shared for so many years—to see Grindelwald together, to hike these mountains and stand at the top of the world.
As he ascended, memories of you filled his mind. He could still hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his, see the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about this place.
It had been your dream, but over time, it had become his as well. Even after all those years of saving, when life had repeatedly forced you to spend the money on more pressing needs, the dream had never faded.
Now, finally, he was here. But he was alone.
Each step was harder than the last. The trail wound higher and higher, becoming more treacherous, but Suguru refused to stop. He clutched the locket, his fingers brushing over the metal as if your presence was embedded within it.
“I promised you,” he whispered to the open air, as though you were walking beside him. “I promised we’d see this together.”
It took hours, his body protesting with every movement, but at last, Suguru reached the summit. The world spread out before him, vast and beautiful, with the jagged peaks of the Alps stretching into the distance. The view was breathtaking—just as you had always said it would be.
He stood there, chest heaving, staring out at the endless sky. Tears welled in his eyes, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of the moment. He opened the locket and gazed at your face, your smiling eyes staring back at him. You should have been here with him. You should have seen this with your own eyes.
“This is for you, baby.” he murmured, his voice cracking as tears spilled down his cheeks. “We made it, love. We’re finally here.”
Suguru stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding the locket and letting the wind carry his words. The silence of the mountains felt sacred, and for a moment, he could almost feel your presence beside him, hear your voice on the breeze.
After a long while, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, framed photograph—the two of you, from years ago, standing side by side, laughing as the sun set behind you. It was a moment of joy, of love, captured forever. He knelt down carefully and placed the frame on a small, flat rock at the very peak of the mountain. The picture stood there, delicate but steadfast, a testament to the love you had shared.
Suguru stood back, his gaze soft as he looked at the photo. He ran a trembling hand through his silvered hair, then placed his hands together, pressing the locket to his chest. “We don’t need evidence for our love, you know that, baby?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want… I want everyone to know that there was love somewhere.”
His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“And it will be here. Always.”
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and the grass around him, as if the earth itself acknowledged his words. Suguru stood there, the weight of his age and grief heavy on his shoulders, but in his heart, there was a quiet peace. This was your place now, your memory, your love, etched into the mountains for all time.
As the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the Alps, geto Suguru turned and began his descent. With each step, he carried the knowledge that your love was eternal, not bound by the constraints of time or place. It lived on—in the memories, in the moments, and now, on the very peak of the world.
195 notes · View notes
ryker-writes · 1 year
Note
This is kind of a crack request, but can I ask for Heartabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle having to babysit a furby for a week? How they get the furby I'll leave to you, but I just wanna see what chaos would unfold XD
I love this. I've never had a furby before but I've seen them and they are horrifying and cursed i love them
Request rules and Masterlists
warning: furby death
Set up: Crowley has decided that students should have to go through a lesson to test their skills as future parents. But we know Crowley, he isn't going to spend a lot of money on fake baby dolls that scream. Instead, he decided to purchase furbys, and have the students babysit them for a week...
Riddle:
he tries his best, and does decently well
like most school things, Riddle aims to do his best and be prepared
but this has an extra level of effort for him, because it's proving he can take care of another being
so he's going to do everything he can for the furby
he'll carry it everywhere with him and give it food, tea, attention, and it'll even study with him
and it goes pretty well
that is, until the furby breaks a rule
he'll scold it and it doesn't care, making Riddle more angry
in the end, the furby got a little burned (it did not survive), and so did the rest of Heartslabyul
Trey:
10/10 furby dad
the best furby dad on this list actually
for starters, his furby survives the week
Trey feeds it on time, talks to it, and even has a little bed for his furby
if the furby demands food in the middle of the night, he's getting up to feed it
it's starting to learn to talk too after he reads to it
but he starts to get a little tired after a few nights
so he's happy to hand the furby back to Crowley at the end of the week
Cater:
on magicam, the furby is thriving
in reality, it's being neglected
Cater takes all sorts of photos of him doing activities with his furby and taking care of it
he calls himself a great furby dad
but anytime the camera is not pointed towards the furby, it's left there sitting on it's own
if furbys could die of neglect, his would
but he's got to get those photos to look aesthetic ✨
it's all fun and games until he tries to get some photo's of the little guy playing in some water
...turns out furbys aren't supposed to get wet
Ace:
he tries at the beginning
in his mind, taking care of a furby should be easy peasy
he feeds it and everything
but the first night with the furby is, unfortunately, it's last
Ace had made it a decent bed on one of his shelves to sleep in
in the middle of the night, the shelf collapsed creating a loud noise that woke Ace up
the next thing he heard was his furby speaking gibberish
and the last thing the furby saw was a blast of magic headed straight for it
Deuce:
oh Deuce...
he tried his best to take care of the furby
but poor boy got the one furby that was actually creepy and potentially possessed
other Hearslabyul students have told him that they've heard it talking at night, but Deuce always sleeps through it
it doesn't help that half the furbys words came out garbled and in a very deep voice
still, Deuce is trying his best to take care of it and even learned to understand the garbled nonsense
Furby: GHIKASHUPAHiGNA
Deuce: okay I'll go get you some food
overall pretty good furby dad like the furby is pretty well taken care of
but he got to attached and didn't want to give it back to Crowley at the end of the week
Leona:
no way
there's no way he's going to take care of a furby
the first few times the furby asks for things, it simply gets ignored
but the more it talks and starts demanding things, the more he gets annoyed
he tries to hand it over to Ruggie, but Ruggie has his own furby to take care of
so he's stuck with the furby
he starts to get pretty good at blocking it out
but then the furby wakes him up during one of his naps
Leona has reached peak annoyance
that furby got its first and last flight lesson out Leona's window
Ruggie:
honestly he's not that interested in taking care of the furby
it's decently taken care of for a while
the furby gets fed and talked to regularly
the big problem arises when he visits Sam's shop
Sam just casually mentioned that they could be sold for a decent price
not expensive, but not totally cheap
either way money is money and Ruggie is all about money
his furby got sold immediately
Jack:
he wants to take care of his furby, he really does
but it freaks him out
he hates it's eyes and especially it's stare
Jack is so hesitant about even feeding it
anytime it speaks his ears perk up like he's startled
it was the middle of the night when he heard it
from the darkness of the room, it laughed
he just couldn't take it
at first he just tried to take the batteries out
but then it kept talking
and that furby got crushed to death
Azul:
it's a school assignment, so of course he's going to try his best
the furby gets well taken care of and even gets the VIP treatment
he has to admit, it kind of ruins his negotiations a little bit when the furby interrupts
"if you want that to come true, I can certainly make it happen. All you have to do is-"
"WEE-TAH-KAH-WEE-LOO"
but for some reason, this scared many of his victims customers into signing a contract
so he kept it around and actually started to make it work
he even taught it how to take orders
but then one day, the furby stopped working during one of their busy days
as much as Azul tried to change it's batteries and fix it, it just didn't work and the furby's eyes didn't open again
the furby had been worked to death
Jade:
another good furby dad...with a twist
Jade takes good care of his furby always making sure to feed it and give it attention
but he spends a lot of time teaching it things
the furby learns pretty quickly how to speak and some other things
in fact, it's probably the smartest furby of them all
so smart that it starts to take after Jade and pick up some if his traits and...hobbies
near the end of the week, the furby had disappeared
but Jade wasn't worried
because there was some rumors floating around about a growing furby mafia
Jade is such a proud dad
Floyd:
he has so much fun with his furby
it's such a fun and creepy guy
just like him :D
he brought the furby everywhere with him
so much so that the furby learned a word, and only one word
so when Floyd was annoyed with someone, the small furby voice beside him would chant
"Squeeze! Squeeze! Squeeze!"
the two practically became best friends who could never be separated
and I mean never
even when Floyd went for a swim in his mer-form, he held the little furby in his arms despite the furby having stopped moving
the poor furby had drowned in the arms of someone who loved it
Totals:
Furbys handed out - 11
Furbys returned - 1
390 notes · View notes
steddieasitgoes · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
You Were All Yellow | written by steddieasitgoes | ao3 link 
For @thefreakandthehair​​ Spring Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge!. My prompt was “Yellow.” 
“Yellow!” Eddie shouts confidently, voice echoing throughout Steve’s crowded family room. “Stevie’s favorite color is yellow.”
Eddie waits for Steve’s confirmation but finds himself on the receiving end of shouting. Robin is yelling something about the color green. Max shouts back different shades of blue, and Dustin is elbows deep in a dissertation-style argument about why Steve’s favorite color is actually salmon pink. The others are loud in their own right, arguing over who wins the point in their impromptu “Who Knows Steve Best” game and the privilege of riding shotgun in the Beamer for an entire month.
It’s total chaos, but the loudest person in the room is Steve, who hasn’t uttered a word since the simple question was asked.
Everyone is so busy debating, no one pays any attention to Eddie as he collapses on the couch beside Steve. It takes a quick elbow to Steve’s ribs to get him to focus on Eddie, but it’s worth it when those big hazel eyes land on him.
“It is yellow, right?” Eddie asks, suddenly feeling bashful.
It has to be, Eddie thinks.
An entire side of Steve’s closet is sectioned off for yellow shirts and sweaters. Steve’s favorite bath towel is a worn yellow one falling apart at the seams. He drinks out of a yellow smiley face mug every morning, and he only eats yellow candy when given the chance.
And that’s just the obvious things.
Eddie’s taken note of the way Steve gravitates towards yellow items when he’s flipping through the department store catalogs he gets in the mail. Passes over the blues and greens for the pale and banana yellow options. He always reaches for the yellow highlighter when they’re studying together and doesn’t hesitate to grab the yellow game piece on board game nights.
There’s also the way Steve’s face lights up whenever Eddie walks around the house in one of his yellow sweatshirts — but Eddie tries not to let that cloud his judgment.
It’s honestly fitting, Eddie thinks.
Yellow is a rare favorite color, and Steve’s a rare form of perfection.
“I mean, I hadn’t thought much about it,” Steve admits, startling Eddie from his thoughts.
Eddie fidgets with the strings on the yellow sweatshirt he’s borrowed from Steve to keep from squirming under the weight of Steve’s eyes. He feels them scan Eddie from toe to head, lingering on his torso where the oversized yellow sweatshirt swallows Eddie whole. For a maddening moment, Eddie thinks Steve wants to swallow him whole too, but the thought disappears when Steve tears his eyes away from him.
“But yeah, I think uh, I think you’re right. There’s just something about yellow.”
Or:
It's the Spring of 1986 and Vecna is dead. Spring is in full effect. The flowers are blooming, the birds are singing, and Eddie's feelings for Steve are blossoming into something new.
Read the rest on ao3
20K+ Words | Mature
223 notes · View notes
boycritter · 8 months
Text
in a museum with my mother (but it could be anywhere at all)
Tumblr media
284 notes · View notes
existwound · 19 days
Text
to breathe in this mirage by existwound
E | 12k+ | 1/4 | Keith/Lance
Summary:
The light reflects on a piece of silver metal on Keith’s hand as his fingers play with Lance’s. He zeroes in on it, his breath catching in his throat. It’s a thin silver ring that sits nicely on his left ring finger, adorned with an even thinner golden band around it, perfectly matching, and mirroring, the ring that Lance found on his bathroom counter this morning. Oh, no way. No, no, no, no. Absolutely not. This has to be some kind of cruel joke. There is no way that the person he’s married to in the future is Keith.
or: Lance unwillingly takes one for the team and wakes up ten years in the future.
read chapter one now on ao3!
42 notes · View notes
rowanisawriter · 4 months
Text
reaching
hades game, thanzag, rated t, ~2700 words
.
Thanatos isn’t sure how long it’s been since they were both young, or whatever young means to gods like them, but it feels like an immeasurable amount of time, he feels like an immeasurably different person and yet exactly the same. He is still serving at the pleasure of Lord Hades and, by extension, his son. He is still wincing at the sight of Zagreus’s blood on the floor. He is reaching, reaching into the space between them now in the sulfuric heat of Asphodel, to hand him the beating heart of a centaur.
Zagreus takes it. Their hands touch during the exchange. Time folds like a thin piece of paper, so thin he can see through it to the beginning, before Zagreus, and now. Now, during or after or whatever this is between them. Always reaching out to try and close the distance, never quite getting there.
22 notes · View notes
gentil-minou · 11 months
Text
hold me close
Sometimes Lan Wangji misses Wei Ying even when he's with him. He forgets he doesn’t need to be afraid. This Wei Ying won’t vanish into the shadows. Sometimes, it feels like Lan Wangji is just waiting to be proven wrong. Lan Wangji has spent his entire life grieving for the ones he's loved and lost. How can he be expected to simply stop?
Wangxian | Oneshot | 13.4K | Rated E
Relevant Tags
Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Porn with Feelings, Emotional Sex, Grief, Mental Health Issues, Character Study, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Top Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Bottom Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Working Through Grief With Sex, Grieving Your Husband While Fucking Him, tender husbands being tender, 13 years of grieving followed by a life time of healing from it
crossposted on
Preview below the cut
Wei Ying visits Lan Wangji every night for thirteen years.
He arrives cloaked in shadows wrapping around him in a shroud. Long hair fans out behind him buffeted by an unnatural wind, thick at the roots and becoming wisps of smoke at the ends.
And every night, Lan Wangji welcomes this Wei Ying into arms that will never again know his warmth. An embrace that will never be shared with anyone else. A fantasy for a willing hostage, caught in a trap of his own design.
The Wei Ying in his dreams is well-fed and well-loved, skin bronze from endless summers spent lakeside, glowing with a fire stoked from within that both threatens Lan Wangji and calls to him all the same. This Wei Ying is always smiling. Not the one Lan Wangji sees in his nightmares, crazed with resentment consuming his soul. The one from their youth, the one this hostile world stole from him when he was far too young.
The Wei Ying in his dreams is not numb from grief and loss. He is not cruel. He does not shove Lan Wangji away.
He places a hand on Lan Wangji’s flushed, tear-stained cheek. His calloused hand is no longer cold and dying but instead warm and alive. This Wei Ying guides Lan Wangji towards him, a loving gaze fixed on him as a familiar smirk curls into a tease.
His dark eyes are bright and dancing, not glassy and dead. They drag Lan Wangji in, ensnaring him, rooting him in place. Though Lan Wangji has no reason to escape regardless.
Shadows twist up and down his body, leaving mark after mark in a trail claiming him. They convince Lan Wangji that this moment is real and true and won’t vanish like fog once dawn breaks over the mountain, flinging logic and sense far away.
In his dreams, Wei Ying loves him.
In his dreams, Lan Wangji saves him.
In his dreams, he has this. Everything he’s ever wanted.
Lan Wangji becomes quite adept at pretending the dreams are all he needs.
(read more on ao3)
49 notes · View notes
a-sweeter-solarsystem · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Saint asked, "May I give you advice...something I learned from being with Osiris."
Crow nodded.
Saint-14 wandered quietly to Cal's bedside. "Sometimes..." the bed creaked as the titan lowered himself next to Calgrach's side, "...it helps to talk."
The hunter watched Saint curiously. He spoke softly, "He can't hear me."
Saint-14's words felt firm but kind, "It is your presence that he can feel. Your light he knows. You do not need words for that."
( *** )
15 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
stoner byler moment for miwip "wednesday"
51 notes · View notes
cultofdarkwood · 17 days
Text
behind the scenes of abstraction of the soul, we've hit 160k and heket is still not fucking dead
8 notes · View notes
br1ghtestlight · 8 months
Note
absolutely begging for you to talk about “28. jimmy jr and bob”
OH THAT ONE LOL as a tinimmy fan I'm not sure how interested you'd be but it's about jimmy jr coming out to gay to bob after a fight w/ his own dad. because bob feels safe as a queer adult in his life :( it's really sweet I wish i finished writing it
(on a similar note I always wanted to write about the MANY many similarities between bob and jimmy jr in terms of working in a restaurant from a young age, fighting w/ their dad, being named after their dad but failing to live up to the legacy etc even their speech disorders!!! this fic would have probably played into that later in their conversation)
"I don't know. Everything is—Ugh! I did something stupid, and my dad is angry at me about it. I couldn't think of anybody else to talk to about this. I know my mom wouldn't understand, and I don't… really want to tell her about it," Jimmy Junior started.
"What did you do?" Bob asked.
He knew that Jimmy Junior was a responsible kid and it was unlikely, but the first thing that his mind jumped to was that Jimmy Junior had accidently got somebody pregnant. There weren't a lot of stupid things that a teenage boy could do that their father wouldn't expect of them. Bob knew that, because he'd done quite a few stupid things when he was a teenager, and his father would never let him forget it.
Jimmy Junior took a deep breath, and Bob waited patiently. Even if he had gotten somebody pregnant or did something else equally stupid and irresponsible, it was obvious that Jimmy Junior trusted him and he needed support with whatever was going on. Bob promised that he would be there for his kids regardless of anything that they did, even if it was reckless or irresponsible, and that promise to himself applied to any other kids that came to him for advice or help with something.
"I told my dad that I think I'm, uh—I'm gay," Jimmy Junior said. His voice was so quiet that Bob almost couldn't hear him at all. "He didn't really… get it. He didn't kick me out or anything, but he said that I'm too young to know what I'm talking about, and that I'm just doing this to be rebellious and get his attention. Zeke said that I shouldn't tell him until I was ready, but I thought that if I told somebody it would make me feel more… confident, I guess? I feel like an idiot."
Bob didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected this. He knew that Jimmy Pesto was an asshole, but he hadn't expected him to be homophobic or to not accept his own son's sexuality.
"I-I'm sorry," Bob said awkwardly. "Did… why did you want to talk to me about this?"
"Tina told me that, uh, you're not… I know that you're married to Mrs. Belcher, but she said that you aren't straight. I thought you might understand, or at least, uh, you would kind of get it."
20 notes · View notes
starsarefire824 · 3 months
Text
Touch Me Like You Know Me
Rating: T
Summary: Mike doesn't go home anymore, not unless absolutely necessary. Instead, he stays far away from Hawkins, quietly shutting himself off from the world, and burying the pain of the things he never said to the boy he'd left behind. But when his mother convinces him to return home for his thirty-fifth birthday, Mike is finally forced to confront just how much he'd given up when he runs into Will by accident. Mike-centric. Estranged Byler reconnection fic. Soft and Sweet.
COMPLETE
Picking at the paper label of his Budweiser bottle, Mike hunches over the sticky wooden bar, trying to conjure up all the moments, all the years, that have gotten him to this exact moment. He’s not old, not by a long shot, even if he wakes up some days and feels absolutley ancient. Not necessarily in his body. Sure, years spent hunched over a computer writing hasn’t done his back any favors and a hangover knocked him on his ass more than it used to, but that's not it really.
It’s the strange agony that is waking up everyday to do the same thing over again: work the same job, eat the same food, talk to the same people. It’s how if he closes his eyes he’s sixteen again, laying in his basement smoking weed with his friends, how he can still feel the moment the gate was closed for good in the marrow of his bones, or how if he thinks long and hard enough, the image of the heavily lashed eyes of his best friend become so clear and green that it felt more like some vision than a memory.
It’s how Mike can still feel his hand beneath his own when his best friend sat scared and sweating in his room when they were thirteen. It’s all these fucking things, the memories that feel so close he can practically reach out and touch them.
And then at the same time, it's the frightening realization that rushes over him like a tidal wave. In fifteen years he’ll be fifty. He’s floating in this strange halfway point between his childhood and getting older. It seems like he blinked and his teenage years and twenties were gone, like some sort of sick mirage. A blur. Would he blink again and it’d all be over?
14 notes · View notes
isabelopaque · 7 months
Text
tgirl toshiko tuesday
11 notes · View notes
Text
i just remembered this one mock short story i wrote for school (about tool safety blah blah) and im re reading and it just ridiculous
i pretty much just put the tmagp characters in a tech theater au, compared alice to jesus (in the more dramatic way possible) , colin broke the 4th wall, dramatic irony out the wazoo-
8 notes · View notes
lord-squiggletits · 6 months
Text
Between TF and my other fandoms like BG3 and TES, I keep finding myself making OCs that have some element of "battle hardened hero who is actually good and righteous, but so traumatized by the toll of war that even after the war ends they feel empty/wrecked and can't enjoy the fruits of victory" and I'm not sure if it's bc I gravitate to a certain type of media where such OCs fit in best, or bc I have a specific character archetype I like and gravitate towards media that contains those things.
#squiggposting#possibly a mix of both bc idk if i've gone into detail here but war stories are one of my favorite genre of stories#like for fun fictional reasons but also for real life political and moral and emotional implications#war stories are literally so fucking cool man i feel like they get a bad rap for just being propaganda tools#and obv a lot of them can be/are explicitly made to be but also like#(i feel like i'm stealing a quote from one such story) war stories are also a method for the soldiers of the war to tell their side#and usually the soldier's side of the story tells of the LESS glorious and propagandistic sides#maybe ive just had the pleasure of having really good teachers/professors but like#most of the war stories i've read are specifically ABOUT the bridge bt war propaganda and the actual experience of fighting in a war#and i think even the ones where the soldier in question supports the war (american sniper comes to mind)#it's very interesting and dare i say important to read it and understand when and why and how they came to support war#like idk i think it's one of those things where ppl shy away from war stories bc#'ew gross it's all pro war probably american imperialist propaganda written by oppressive killers trying to make us feel sorry for them'#without understanding... idk. the difference between an individual soldier's evil and the evil of an entire institution?#some sort of anti intellectualism regarding soldiers as being inherently evil ppl who aren't to be listened to or taken seriously?#it's not a matter of like. you don't need to like or sympathize with them per se. but i think part of understanding and criticizing#the institution of war is getting the ground level testimonies about it. and more of them are critical than some ppl believe#plus i mean FUCK usamerican imperialism it doesn't need to be about US wars! other countries lived thru other wars that are also important!#war stories may have their strongest association w american imperialism but that doesn't mean other war stories don't exist#idk sorry for rambling in the tags
12 notes · View notes
pinwheel-plant · 2 months
Text
Day 31; the end
3 notes · View notes