#this isn't even in the time i want to start writing it

[jupitermelichios]

I started adding this to the tags, but apparently tumblr doesn't want people writing novels in the tags because they're cowards

as it stands in the show, i don't ship them, because i think edrissa deserves better than mal is currently capable of giving her, or anyone. (I do want them to be best friends and go to medical museums on the weekends and eat lunch together in the morgue so they can talk about corpses without the others complaining, though)

however.

it's ten years later. martin is dead. mal has taken a break from the police to work in academia, teaching students and writing papers. he's calmer. he's stable. the nightmares aren't gone, but they're better than they've ever been, and he eats multiple meals without needing to be reminded almost every day.

edrissa is still working in the morgue. she had a serious relationship for a few years, but in the end they grew apart and called in quits, and she's been single for a couple of years.

they haven't seen one another in almost a decade, but gil is finally retiring for good, and they bump into one another at the party. they mean to just catch up, but once they get talking they find they have so much to say. it's not like old times - it's better. edrissa is more confident. mal is calmer, and has a life that isn't just work and his father's legacy. and there's this spark not that wasn't there before, and next thing they know the party is ending and they haven't talked to anyone else all evening

they exchange numbers, but edrissa doesn't know if she should call. maybe she's too old for him? her hair is more silver than black now, and she likes how it looks, but mal has barely aged. if anything, he looks younger without the weight of his father to carry. the age difference between them is the same as its always been, but she convinces herself it feels larger

but she also knows that if she doesn't try, she'll always regret it. even though mal's interest in her back then was as a friend rather than a romantic possibility, she's always thought of him as her 'one that got away'.

and she also knows malcolm bright is never going to be the one to make the first move

however has hasn't counted on mal being a lot more emotionally mature than he wasn't when she first met him, and she's especially not counting on the fact that Dani and Gil saw them together and immediately decided to play matchmaker, or that Gil would get Jessica in on it

so before she's managed to psych herself up to make the first move, mal calls. tells her he knows they're old friends, but he'd always have regretted it if he didn't try, and would she like to get dinner?

she's so shocked she almost forgets to say yes, just sits there silently until mal starts to apologise, but they get there, and she accepts.

the experiment proves replicable. the spark is still there on the first date, the second, the third. they don't run out of things to talk about. the sex, when they eventually get to it, is great

it's not always easy. mal's healthier than he's ever been, but there are some wounds that are never going to entirely heal, some scars that won't fade. And edrissa's got scars of her own, along with a stubborn streak a mile wide

but they work at it. they compromise. they figure out which issues can be overcome with time and patience and which are best left alone. they don't move in together - edrissa has spent a lifetime currating a very specific space, and mal needs somewhere he can retreat to on his bad days. they've both got tempers and deep insecurities and a tendency to get absorbed in their work and vanish for days at a time, but they figure out ways to live with all of them.

their lives grow together, like intertwining vines. they grow together.

and they're happy.

Don’t die. - I won’t. I promise.

Malcolm and Edrisa, for @actuallylukedanes ♡

[bunni-v1]

What do we have here…?

🍓Couldn’t get sending Harumasa nudes out of my head and then I saw @mini-ism post about Caesar going through Livhters phone and had Jimmy Neutron Brain blast. (My moots are so awesome and talented and everyone should give them love). Like... what DO they have on their phone, if anything? So that's what this is. Also took this as my chance to write for my favorite straight white cat boy Seth.

Tw: Nsfw; recording during sex; rough sex (all); somnophilia (Harumasa); breeding kink (Seth); bottom harumasa and seth; Mommy kink (seth); grammar errors (inevitable)

Info: Fem bodied reader (no pronouns i think? use of mommy though); Harumasa x Reader; Lighter x Reader; Seth x Reader; I tried to add plot but who am I kidding this is porn

Harumasa Asaba

The first time Asaba Harumasa asked to record you during sex, you declined. He'd wanted it so he could use it at work, during those days that he really needed you most. It's not like you were shy about your body, especially not with him. He'd seen you naked a million times and done more than just admire your body on numerous occasions. You just didn't want to do it, not with the risk of his very important friends possibly seeing them. The idea of sweet Sokaku sneaking on his phone and somehow finding the videos was mortifying, to say the least. The consequences afterward would probably be even worse, you'd never be able to look Yanagi in the eyes again.

So, you told him no, and who is Asaba to press you on something like that. Feminism was hot, or whatever. He just wanted to see what he could get away with. Little did he know he planted a seed in your brain that kept on growing and growing until, one night, you asked him if he was still into the whole recording you thing.

He wanted to say "No fucking duh." But instead, he smiled and nodded all cute-like, "Oh? I thought you didn't want to? Don't tell me you've been holding out on me now..." And thus began your unexpected obsession with making amateur porn.

Harumasa isn't an idiot, of course, he keeps everything in a hidden folder within a hidden folder, accessible via a password only he knows. (He would give up any chance at living a long life to keep Sokaku as far away from his porn stash as possible). It's surprisingly well organized, coming from him at least. Categorized by type (picture and videos), who was topping, and which kinks you indulged in.

His personal favorites, though, are saved in a separate folder within those already existing folders. They're his go-to when he's feeling so very pent up at work and needs release fast enough that Yanagi won't come looking for him. Like right now, the phone under the desk and the volume just loud enough that only he could make it out by straining his ears. A little treat for his hard work today.

The first one starts out with shaky camera work -- you'd grabbed and started recording in a hurry like you realized this one would make good content for him. (You were right, as usual). The sun is peaking through the curtains of his dark apartment, and with the light, he can just barely make out his sleeping face. You pan the camera down, and one of your hands is gently tracing along his slowly hardening cock, already free and begging for you to suck it. It jumps in your hand as you rub the tip, and then all of a sudden the camera flips and he gets to see your face. You have eyebags under your eyes and your hair is sticking out in several places with little bruises littering your collarbones. Just how he likes you. Shuffling follows and the camera jerks around awkwardly until it rests on his abdomen and refocuses on you, dick still in hand and eyes blinking innocently at the camera.

You tap the tip against your cheek a few times, Harumasa's hips pressing up into your hand as you do so. You smile a little at him offscreen, and it's almost affectionate until you swallow him down in one go. What you can't fit in your mouth you fist with your hand, bobbing in a perfectly trained rhythm that he knows would have him seeing stars. His hips awkwardly jerk, but you take him so well that it doesn't even bother you. The camera shifts again as Harumasa himself begins to wake up. A confused, "Oh fuck," is moaned out in the background, just barely audible over the heavenly sound of you sucking and swallowing him up. Then, your eyes flutter up, right as a hand fists its way into your hair. The video cuts shortly after that, leaving the rest of it up to his impeccable memory.

The next one is a bit longer, and honestly humiliating for him, but he can't get enough of it. Again you're holding the camera, but this time he is awake. It starts with your hand on his ass, marked with the harsh imprint of your strikes, bright and red and sure to bruise (it did). You make sure to get a good angle of yourself pounding him into the sheets, the sounds of squelching mixed with incoherent babbling from him something sinful. You glide your hand over his bare back, camera following along, then tug on his fluffy black hair. He lets out a pathetic whine as you push the camera into his fucked out face. Cheeks red, drool dripping down his chin, eyes watery and unfocused. It's all he can do to answer you when you finally ask, "You were a good boy today, weren't you Harumasa? Tell the camera how good you were today."

"Yessss, 'm a very good boy~" He hiccups out through your harsh thrusts.

You coo at him, pressing a little kiss to his cheek which gets him smiling like a moron in the video, "You know what good boys get to do, right?"

He visibly jolts in the frame, right as you wrap your pretty fingers around his swollen cock just out of frame. A whorish moan leaves his mouth as you pick up the pace, determined to make him cum. His whole face twists in pleasure as he cries out your name, releasing all over your fingers and the sheets. The camera flips, and you're giggling as you spread the covered hand playfully for the camera. "Such a good boy~" You hum, and the video cuts as you begin sucking each finger clean.

The last one he has, which is the only one where he's holding the camera, is his personal favorite. You're in the Section 6 office, legs spread out and perched wobbly on the arms of his desk chair. Miyabi, Yanagi, and Sokaku were all out for lunch and you'd been so sweet to bring him the one he'd 'accidentally' forgotten at home. His pace was fast and rough as he slammed into you. He preferred taking things slow, but even he had to admit he liked the thrill of a quicky in such an open area. One hand comes down to hold your thigh at a different angle, and you let out the squeakiest excuse for his name he'd ever heard. "I thought you didn't want them to see you like this... you're awfully contradictory~" He teases from behind the camera, not that you have it in you to do anything but whine at him. "What would Miyabi think of you..." He tuts, "and poor Tsukishiro might have a heart attack... how shameless can you be?"

He zooms in on your face, head thrown back and mouth stuck wide open with empty gasps just begging to become moans. Your body shakes as his thrusts become less fast and more rough, skin slapping against skin in the quiet office on the very desk he was scrolling through his phone. He can see his name form on your lips.

"Harumasa," Came Yanagi's voice instead, he jumps, quickly locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket, "I understand paperwork is boring, but scrolling on your phone is-"

"Unacceptable, I know," He sighs, "I'm getting to it I promise. Just... right after a quick bathroom break, okay?"

He's up and gone before she can respond, already deciding which video he should watch to fix his little issue. Oh! Or he could ask you for a new one right now, it'd been a minute since he'd gotten you masturbating.

Lighter Lorenz

Lighter didn't get the appeal of it at first. Why would he settle for videos and pictures when the real thing was so much better? Just didn't make sense to him, but sure, he'd let you do what you want. You were damn adorable with how excited you got when he said yes to another video or picture.

It wasn't until an extended period of time away from you that he realized how badly he was missing out. He was horny and you were too far away to do anything about it and no matter what he imagined he could not get off for the life of him. So, he caves and asks you to send one of those videos you'd made. It was probably the fastest he'd cum by himself since getting with you.

Lighter admits defeat, you were right, those videos are something else. Not nearly as good as the real thing, but close enough when he needed it. He's very selective about what does and does not get filmed though. There are some moments he wants to keep just between the two of you, no cameras or anything like that. However, once he gets into it he really gets into it, and those videos are cinema for amateur pornstars.

He keeps the videos and pictures in an unlabeled folder on his phone, not nearly as meticulous about hiding it as Harumasa or Seth might be. He didn't have the risk factor, the girls wouldn't go through his phone without asking first, and he wasn't careless enough to leave it out for others to dig through its contents. He also wasn't stupid enough to look through his little stash with others around, always waiting until he was completely isolated to look.

You were out for the night doing something or another for someone, too kind for your own good, leaving only Lighter and his hand to keep his dick company. He clicks open the folder, smiling to himself when he's met with pretty pictures of you.

He scrolls a bit, then clicks on a more recently recorded one. The camera is focused on your stomach, just low enough that he can see the flared red tip of his dick teasing your swollen clit. A deep chuckle sounds from behind the camera, followed by a grumpy little whine from you. He takes the hint, sliding his tip down and slowly dipping it into your drooling cunt. You let out the cutest squeal as he stretches you out, his hips angling up so his cock presses against your tummy.

The camera zooms in on the outline of his tip, pressing just below your navel. You babble something incoherent, and Lighter hums like it's the most interesting thing in the world. His calloused hand comes into view, tracing the outline with a low hiss. "Fuck, you feel me inside baby?" You mumble something out again, a much smaller hand sliding under his. He presses down as you trace a finger over him, and a whorish moan leaves your mouth. He ruts himself into you, hand pressing down so both of you could feel just how deep inside he was. Your body trembles with each hard thrust, and the camera work gets shakier and shakier the louder Lighter gets until it stops altogether after an annoyed groan — literally thrown across the room so he could focus more on you.

The next one he picks among a sea of delicacies is an older one, one of the first he'd agreed to make with you. The camera is set up on the nightstand, angled nicely so he could see your pretty tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips up into yours. You're wearing his scarf around your neck, and you look like sex incarnate hopping up and down on him.

His veiny hands grab at your hips, guiding each movement with careful precision. You're leaned back, head thrown to the sky as you call his name like a mantra. Each thrust makes your voice peak a little higher, the only thing louder being the slap of wet skin on skin. One particularly rough thrust has you keening, falling forward to press your sweaty face to his just out of frame. He can see your hips roll desperately into his own for all of a few seconds before his hands wrap around your thighs to hoist you up so he can bully his cock into your abused pussy. The whole bed shakes as the headboard slams into the wall, the camera tumbling to the ground forgotten as it records your brainless sobs over the sound of his brutal pace. A weird habit he’s noticed consistently in these videos.

He's close, he can feel it, as he strokes himself a little faster. Just needed the perfect thing to push him over the edge. He taps one of your personal favorites, citing it as 'the most fun' for you to film. In it, he is holding the camera down, you're kneeling between his legs, head resting on his thigh as your deft fingers play with his member. You smile up at him, sliding the bead of precum around the tip like a game.

He's huge in your hand, and it's a miracle you manage to fit your slim fingers around his fat cock. Slowly stroking down, then back up, your thumb sure to run over that vein that made his toes curl. You keep a steady pace, teasing him with the sweetest grin on your face.

"Feelin' good baby?" You purr up at him, amused at what is likely a very red faced Lighter.

There's an audible swallow, and the camera shakes as he answers, "Real good. Takin' good care 'f me."

You giggle, satisfied with the answer enough to lean down and start sucking on his balls. Your other hand scraped against his thigh, the muscles beneath tensing at the sensation. The sound of your sucking, mixed in with his little whimpers has him cumming prematurely, not that it stops him from fucking his hand through his orgasm. The video continues on like that, you teasing him to the edge and denying him his orgasm like a monster. Unlike then, he had quiet the mess to clean up now.

He thinks better of just cleaning it up, though. Instead snapping a quick picture and sending it to you with a little, 'Miss you.'

Seth Lowell

Seth is an incredibly polite, considerate, sweetheart who would never in a million years dream of asking to record you during sex. He might just be the most vanilla guy in all of New Eirdu, and recording seems... a little violating of your privacy. It's not something he considers an option.

Until one day, after a very long week where you and Seth hadn't seen each other for more than a few hours thanks to his work schedule. He's lying in the dorms, texting you about mundane tasks when you throw out how much you miss him. He obviously misses you too, and says so. You ask him if he would like to see how much you miss him, and the sweet thing he is the undertone goes right over his head. He expects a picture of you maybe pouting, doing something you would typically do together by yourself.

When he opens it he's greeted by you, two fingers deep in your own cunt, pretty juices glistening in the dim lighting of your bedroom -- oh god is that his shirt you're wearing? He short circuits, literally just staring slack-jawed at the phone for god knows how long until one of his buddies comes in and starts poking fun at him. He slams the phone down, and he makes it home in record time. That was all the convincing he needed from you to record your (rather basic) sexual escapades.

Seth does not save the videos, ever. They're all in your text chain, pinned there for easy access, but he refuses to keep them in his album. Way too risky for him with his family and his coworkers and... well... knowing himself. They're really only there for you, he doesn't have any free time to watch them and get off. He does, however like watching them when he's alone in the dorms for the night. Just a nice reminder of what he'll be doing next time he sees you.

Like this one, where the camera is pointed down on him, red-faced and teary-eyed as you ride him like no tomorrow. His chest is littered with little purple love bites, and your fingers splay out across them as you roll your hips deliciously against him. He whimpers in the video, shying away from the camera. The hand on his chest reaches over to flick his already too-hard nipple, twisting it a little. A giggle bubbles out of your chest when he keens.

"You like it when I ride you, don't you Seth...?" You coo, tracing your fingers over to the other nipple to give it attention. He nods with a whine, biting back his moans. You pinch him harshly as punishment, "Use your words."

He sighs, humiliated at the degradation, but swallows his pride and responds, "Yes Mommy."

He grimaces at his own voice, quickly closing out of the video to find something a little less... vocal. He settles on one where the camera is pointed down, you're wearing pretty blue lingerie. In this one, he's between your legs, ears flattened back as he gives you little kitten licks to your sensitive bud. The rough texture of his tongue makes your legs twitch, nearly closing on him, but fighting themselves back open.

He looks up to the camera, or more so past it, to look at you just begging for approval. Your hand comes into the frame, rubbing at one of his ears encouragingly. He lights up, taking the sign as his chance to swallow you down. He dives in like a kitten into milk, slurping and sucking with your hand guiding his movements. Your little sighs of approval get his tail curling up in the air behind him. Your little happy kitty, servicing you like the queen you are. “Good boy~” You coo so sweetly, and his tail twitches excitedly behind him.

He smiles fondly at the phone, was it weird to find it more cute than hot. Maybe he was too lovestruck. It didn't matter too much to him as he found one that you had favorited in the chat. He... didn't remember this one at all from the thumbnail, it got him curious.

The first thing he's greeted by is you face down in the sheets, his pale hand pushing your head into the pillows. Then he hears the wet slapping of skin, the camera following down to show where he was fucking you from behind. His entire abdomen is literally shimmering with a mix of your and his cum, the sticky white substance quite literally all over your back and his hands now that he was looking.

This was... he can't believe he had the mental capacity to think to record himself fucking you during his heat. His cock stirs in his pants, but he's too curious to stop watching before he screws himself over too much. The camera shifts as he leans over you, giving it a perfect view as he bites into the back of your neck. Your face is stained with tears, and your mouth is wide open with pleasure -- no sound escaped though, and Seth realizes that he'd fucked your throat raw in this video.

"Gonna fuck you full of my kits, wanna make you a real Mommy. That's okay, right? You wanna have my babies too don't you?" his rough voice mumbles into your skin, and you only nod in response, too fucked out to really do anything else.

He thinks the video will end there, but instead, the camera pulls up again as Seth pulls out. A broken, muted wail leaves you at the loss, but Seth ignores it in favor of recording your used pussy. Globs of cum leak out of it, down your thighs, and Seth's nimble fingers scoop it up and shove it back inside like in a trance. He clicks his phone off at that, way too flustered at the sight.

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he falls back into the uncomfortable bedding of the dorm. Great, now he was rock-hard and had no way of getting off. He had work in two hours, but there was no way he'd be getting any sleep like this. He frowns at his lock screen, a picture of the two of you together. You wouldn't mind if he came home and interrupted your rest that much, would you?

[secriden]

Watching Joong's Hurt Me Please MV with the context of how episode 6 ended and how this is likely a song about Fadel's thoughts and feelings about Style after Finding Out, I wanted to take a deeper look at the lyrics.

I have transcribed the English lyrics on Youtube side by side with a fan translated version (credit: bl_zonee on Twitter) just because there's different shades of meaning between them that I find really interesting and I'm curious which one is the more accurate translation or if both are valid, but just give different nuance. (Perhaps a mutual who understands Thai would be willing to give some insight? *u*)

Verse 1 makes a lot of sense to me: Fadel must be wondering how Style could be so cruel ("unkind" / "heartless") because every instance of Style being honest and asking for honesty in return, all of Style's genuine desperation to bare his heart to Fadel in episode 5 and 6, now looks like a calculated, cruel deception.

And after being so afraid to reveal his secret to Style for fear that it would make Style walk away from him, there's a painful irony in Fadel now wishing Style had walked away before. Because the betrayal hurts so much more now that Fadel has given in to his heart.

The chorus is where the nuance between the translations gets interesting.

The Youtube version seems almost like Fadel is taunting Style, putting up a front that he can take the pain Style is dishing out and more. It's like he's hiding behind the bravado of being able to handle the hurt, and even more.

The MV also depicts Style smiling sadistically after slapping Fadel, as if he's enjoying the pain he's inflicting. Meanwhile, Fadel looks up almost in adoration, a strange softness in his eyes at odds with how cruelly he's being treated. The knowledge of Style's betrayal has turned Style into a monster in Fadel's mind, one which he cannot help but to still have soft, affectionate feelings.

But the fan translation sounds much more hurt and accusatory. Fadel is expressing his pain and anguish much more plainly and "you did this to me" is a line that demands responsibility.

In both translations, though, the last line ("can't get enough" / "enjoying the pain") gives us a hint that Fadel isn't willing to give Style up even now. Despite the pain, despite feeling as if he's simultaneously burning up and drowning, there's a part of him that still wants this. That still wants Style.

Interestingly, as Fadel sings the last line he begins to visibly struggle against the rope tying him to the chair. The soft look vanishes and in place is a determination and shadow that spells trouble for Style. The shock is wearing off and Fadel is starting to fight back.

Verse 2 is where the agony really hits, for me.

In both versions, Fadel recognises the way Style's love was (maybe still is?) precious to him ("your love feeds my soul" / "your love nourished my heart"). But because Style's love is a lie, it's transformed into a weapon ("poison"). It twists Style's love into a source of "hurt" to Fadel.

Which is why I think both versions have a line where Fadel admits that there's a part of him that wants Style to keep hurting him -- or rather, to keep loving him; because these are the same thing to Fadel now -- ("hurt me, make me feel used" / "the more I was hurt the more I enjoyed it") whilst also remaining accusatory ("the more I loved, the more sorrow/I suffered").

The lines about "nothing left to write about our love" / "our story" also feel very pointed and final. A closing of a chapter; a closing of the possibility of their former, uncomplicated happily ever after. Style has nothing left to write (report) back to his superiors (the police) because Fadel's love is already complete and his deception has reached the inevitable conclusion of Fadel being found out/destroyed.

All this happens while we see Style continuing to threaten Fadel with a golf club and an almost crazed expression of glee juxtaposed with flashes of Fadel and Style in much happier times.

Also the fact that this line comes with this scene where Fadel lets Style kiss him despite “knowing” it’s all a lie *sobs uncontrollably*:

The first chorus comes back once and the music reaches a plateau. We are clearly preparing for a drop or a modulation and we get exactly that (twice!) with the second chorus:

Here, both versions converge: Fadel is angry, he's furious. Style hurt him and he's going to repay all of it and more ("you'll hurt [by much more]" / "you must suffer more than I did"). The lyrics tell us that, while Fadel cannot take back the hurt (take back his love), he can certainly ensure he isn't alone in the suffering (this love will also hurt Style).

It is at this part where my heart sank as I realised that Fadel's "I think I love you" line in episode 6 now takes on a much more sinister tone.

Because I think that discovering Style's betrayal was also what made Fadel realise the truth of his love for Style; the very agony he was in was the sign that Fadel's heart was lost to him. But even as it is true, I also think he still made the choice to ruin Style in the same breath. Because if Style could use Fadel’s love as a weapon then Fadel is going to use it (Fadel’s love) to hurt Style too.

A decision was made in this moment, and everything Fadel does afterwards in this scene is deliberate.

There is, however, one piece of hope:

Despite Fadel's expressed fury, what the MV shows us is Fadel breaking out of his bonds, shoving Style back and punching him once and then:

For all his anger, for all his rage, for all his threats of manifold vengeance, what we see is Fadel pressing close and kissing Style; once on the lips, and once on his chest (heart), all while the lyrics makes space for one last plea:

("don't betray me")

For me, its the way the line is shown together with this direct visual parallel between the ignorant Fadel in the past (left) and the Fadel of the present who has seen through Style's deception (right) that I find particularly compelling. Even now, even at the point of Fadel discovering Style's betrayal, there is still hope for forgiveness.

Because Fadel cannot help himself. Because Style made Fadel's bleeding heart whole again; and it beats, it feels, and despite how much it hurts, what Fadel still wants more than anything else in the world -- desperately and simply -- is Style.

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

cute(a) 🍵 minghao x reader

✨ word count > 500 words

✨ genre: tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: for @ylangelegy 💕 i told you i would write something for you (threateningly) and while this isn't very long, i couldn't start the new year without giving you back some of the love i received from you. i don't know if it's a coincidence or not but i had darl+ling on loop when writing this 🙈 and I also wanted to write you something about your favourite member (hao) in your favourite format (text smaus). happy holidays ❄️ and as always, there's someone in your corner all the way across the sea 🌊

Tea-lover! Minghao who was so apprehensive when he had to move houses. It always took him a few months to adjust and a couple of years even for the place to feel like a home. He thought this time it would be the same.

Tea-lover! Minghao who didn't expect to smell different blends of tea coming from the next door. Ceremonial grade matcha, different kinds of pu'er, south-asian style of milk tea, masala tea, calming jasmine, and so many more. Sometimes he felt that he was invading his neighbour's privacy. But he couldn't bear to put a stop to this one piece of comfort he has. The only thing that's grounding him.

Tea-lover! Minghao who was both scared and excited to meet you. Would he bump into you at the elevator? Or will it be near your door? Or maybe at the resident community meeting and someone else would introduce the two of you? But how he actually met you was when you knocked on his door with a "Hi, i am your neighbour y/n. It's so nice to meet you! I made some mango float and thought I would share some with you."

Tea-lover! Minghao and you clicked so well together that it was hard for him to believe that he didn't even know you for six months. He confessed to a week into the friendship that he loved the smell of tea from your place. And from then on, the whole apartment complex knew you guys were thick as thieves. From being excited about different blends to visiting each other for little tea sessions. Sometimes, just sometimes, on early mornings when you were in front of him, all serious about Minghao's tea ceremony rituals yet so soft in your pajamas, he would give himself a minute to think about what ifs. He would unfurl that tiny bit of hope in his heart that makes him wish that ten years later this would remain the same but he would have the extra privilege of kissing you, of being with you.

Tea-lover! Minghao who overthinks each time he gives you a gift. Because it has to be tea-themed but it also has to be perfect. Your 1000 watt smile when you love what he gets you keeps him going for days. Minghao finds himself requesting Joshua and Dokyeom's help more and more for cute gift ideas. Maybe one day he could give you the red and white checkered apron and mittens set he bought. They have little teacups with saucers on them which you would adore. The only thing that's holding him back is that it's too domestic to gift a friend.

Tea-lover! Minghao who got overwhelmed when you finally got tired of him not asking you out and just kissed him. When he short-circuited and just stared at you, you held his face and kissed him again. Just to make sure he doesn't second guess anything about where this relationship is headed.

Tea-lover! Minghao whose new hobby is tasting tea by kissing you every time you drink some. When you tease him by asking if he can taste anything, he claims that any kind of tea is sweeter when it has the touch of your lips. And he is not even lying. You made tea and life sweeter by just being here.

[bonbonly]

now that you mention it... how about some sugar daddy!nico thoughts when you have time?

he seems like he'd take you to a fancy restaurant and then make you sit in his lap and cockwarm him in public!!

back on my computer for like an hour or two so you bet im writing this 😭 also my queen every time i write something nico related YOU are my target audience i hope you know that LMFAO

bon's thoughts (18+)

sugar daddy!nico rosberg is definitely the type of person to take you to the fanciest of places. i had this idea that he might take you to those vintage old-age plays in those grand theaters, booking a balcony seat at the very front so you can see the stage up close. the only catch is that you're warming his cock, the dimly lit theater an advantage to what he has planned for you for the night. you're probably squirming on his laps, whispering if you could please just move a bit, just a tiny bit that's all! and he leans in close to whisper into your ear, "hase, you've been doing so good for me just a few more minutes, hm? just a few more, don't worry! sit tight and i'll reward you well after..."

he's bringing your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingers and letting his mouth ghost over your shoulder before nipping gently. the entire time you're trying to hold back your whines, especially when you glance back to him and he's guiding your face back to the stage, chuckling into your ear, "you wanted to see this play, right? go watch the play, i'm right here..." he loves to see you begging, begging for him to let you roll your hips. your whimpers are masked by the thunderous applause from the crowd below as the second act comes to a close.

even when you're not warming his cock, i assume he'd have you just sit on his lap for fun, an arm draped around his neck as he's sipping some wine and glancing to you with all hearts in his eyes. he's definitely super sweet, doting on you and praising you no matter what you do. you're his good little bunny, he loves you to death! but.... but if you were acting out? oh, complete switch of personality, this man isn't afraid of anything or anyone. you wanted to be a brat and make a scene in front of his colleagues? he'll turn to his friend and out loud say, "she's a dumb whore, she'll snap right back don't worry" and while that stuns them, he can see you slowly start to quiet down. oh, and if you're across the room? loudly talking about how nico could do much better than the trips he has planned for you, he's sending you a glare. all he has to do is give you that look of disdain, and you're already crawling back to him, standing besides him with a pout on your lips, asking if he could take you back to the hotel.

in the hotel room, he's not even going to acknowledge you. no like hear me out on this, you're on your knees showing him how sorry you are, but his eyes are elsewhere - on the phone, newspaper, maybe looking right above your head, not directly at you. you're doing everything you can to please him: kitten licks on the tip of his cock, mouth gliding up his shaft, taking him as far your cute throat can take you. you even push yourself some more to gag, tears pricking at your eyes not just because of the stretch, but because you want him to give you some conformation that he forgives you. if he's feeling forgiving, he'll take you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses, telling you that what you did was wrong. and if he isn't? you better get on that damn bed and spread your legs, your fingers deep in your cunt because the only way he'll turn to look at you is if he hears the squelching of your juices, tempting him to come drink what's rightfully his.

[hakkkuu]

okay idk if you write threesome but if you do can you write something very dark sungchan and eunseok threesome, if not then anyone member please im so riize deprived rn😭

by "very dark" i could only imagine noncon so TW!!!!!

cw: step-brother, alcohol, noncon, threesome, recording

The dimly lit party buzzed with energy, a pulsating bassline reverberating through the crowded room. Amidst the sea of dancing bodies, a petite figure stood out—Y/n, your wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, a cocktail glass clutched in your hand. It was your first foray into the wild world of collage parties, and you felt a heady mix of adrenaline and apprehension. Little did you know, this night would mark a sinister turn in your young life.

As you navigated through the throng, your eyes darted around, taking in the scene. The room was a blur of colorful lights and intoxicated laughter. You felt a hand on her shoulder, and you turned to find your step-brother, Sungchan, towering over you. His tall, muscular frame cast a shadow across you, making you feel even smaller.

"Well, well, if it isn't my little step-sister" Sungchan's deep voice carried a hint of mockery. "First time at a party, huh? Be careful, these places can get pretty wild." He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes holding a glious that made your stomach twist.

"Oh, I-I'm being careful," you stammered, your naivety apparent. "I just wanted to, you know, experience it."

"Experience it, huh?" Sungchan's gaze swept over you, making you feel exposed. "Well, you're in for a real treat tonight. Just stick with me and my boy Eunseok, and we'll show you a good time."

You felt a flutter of unease at his words, but before you could respond, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd, distracting you. Eunseok, Sungchan's best friend, had just entered the room, his presence instantly commanding attention. He was a charismatic figure, with a mischievous smile and an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance.

"There he is!" Sungchan shouted, clapping Eunseok on the back. "Let's get this party started!"

The trio moved through the party, Sungchan and Eunseok leading you deeper into the pulsating heart of the celebration. The music grew louder, the lights more frenzied, and the drinks flowed freely. You found yourself caught up in the euphoria, your inhibitions melting away with each sip of your drink.

Eunseok, ever the charmer, whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "You're a real beauty, you know that? Sungchan's a lucky guy to have you as a step-sister." His words sent shivers down your spine, but not from pleasure. There was something about his tone, the way his hand lingered on your waist a touch too long, that made you uncomfortable.

As the night wore on, your vision blurred, and your steps became unsteady. Sungchan and Eunseok, noticing your intoxication, exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes glinting with malicious intent. They guided you through the crowd, their hands firm on your arms, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor and into a dimly lit hallway.

"Where...where are we going?" You slurred, your words slightly incoherent.

"Shh" Sungchan whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear. "We just want to show you something. Something special."

They pushed open a door, revealing an empty room, devoid of the party's chaos. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized something was terribly wrong. Your drunken haze lifted slightly, replaced by a rising sense of panic.

"W-wait, I don't..." Your words trailed off as Eunseok moved towards you, his eyes dark with desire. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with surprising strength. "What are you—?"

"Oh, Y/n, you're so naive," Eunseok purred, his lips curling into a sinister smile. "But tonight, that changes."

Sungchan stepped closer, his tall form looming over you. "You see, we've been waiting for this moment. Fantasizing about it." His rough hands slid down your arms, sending shivers of fear through you.

"N-no, please..." Your voice was barely a whisper, heart hammering in your chest.

"Please what, Y/n?" Eunseok's grip tightened, his breath hot on your neck. "Please don't stop us from having some fun?"

You struggled against their hold, but your drunken state and their superior strength made your efforts futile. Sungchan's hands roamed freely over your body, his touch rough and possessive. He tugged at your dress, the fabric tearing slightly as he exposed your delicate lace bra.

"Ah, look at that," Eunseok murmured, his fingers tracing the straps of the lingerie. "So beautiful. But you know, it'd look even better on the floor."

Your screams for help were muffled by Eunseok's hand as Sungchan ripped the dress from your body, leaving you trembling in your lingerie. The room echoed with desperate cries and the sound of heels scraping against the floor as you tried to escape.

"That's it, scream for us, Y/n," Sungchan growled, his voice thick with desire. "No one will hear you over the music."

Eunseok produced a phone, the camera lens glinting in the dim light. "Let's capture this moment, shall we? A little memento of our fun night."

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized their intentions. You thrashed against their hold, pleas turning to incoherent moans as they silenced you with rough kisses and groping hands. Sungchan's lips crushed against yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, tasting the remnants of your drink.

"Mmm, you taste good," he growled, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly.

Eunseok's fingers worked at the bra, undoing the clasp with practiced ease. "Such a shame to cover up these perfect breasts." With a swift motion, he tore the lace, exposing you to their hungry gazes.

Your body trembled, breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "N-no, p-please...sungchan"

Sungchan's hand slid down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. "Please what, Y/n? Please don't make your fantasies come true?"

With a violent tug, he ripped the panties away, leaving you completely exposed. The cool air on your bare skin sent shivers through you, but it was not from pleasure. You whimpered, eyes pleading, as Eunseok positioned the phone to capture your humiliation.

"That's it, show us how you feel, Y/n," Eunseok whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Let it all out."

Sungchan's rough hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart. Your screams turned to sobs as you felt him position himself between your legs. You tried to squirm away, but Eunseok held you fast, his hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your cries.

"You've been teasing us long enough" Sungchan growled, his voice thick with lust. "Time to give us what we want."

With a brutal thrust, he entered you, tearing through your innocence. Your scream was muffled by Eunseok's hand, body arching in a mixture of pain and shock. Sungchan paid no heed to your protests, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm, his breath coming in harsh pants.

"Ah, you feel so good, Y/n," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Always knew you'd be tight."

Eunseok, his eyes dark with desire, watched the scene unfold, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast as you struggled beneath your step-brother. "She's something special, Sungchan. A real treasure."

Sungchan grunted in agreement, his pace increasing as he drove into you with abandon. Your body shook with each thrust, sobs turning to whimpers as the initial pain gave way to a strange, unwanted pleasure.

"That's it, Y/n, let it happen," Eunseok whispered, his fingers pinching your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. "You know you want it."

As Sungchan's rhythm intensified, Eunseok moved to join him, his hands rough as he positioned himself behind you. You felt his hardness pressing against your ass, and your body tensed, anticipating the violation.

"Relax, Y/n," Eunseok whispered, his hot breath on your neck. "We're just going to take what we want. What you secretly want, too."

With a swift, brutal thrust, Eunseok entered you from behind, his movements synchronized with Sungchan's. Your body shook with the force of their penetration, your cries muffled as Eunseok's hand covered your mouth once more.

"Oh, yeah, that's it," Sungchan grunted, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly. "Take it, Y/n. Take all of it."

Eunseok's fingers dug into your hips, his pace matching Sungchan's as they took turns claiming your body. Your mind swam with confusion, body betraying you as pleasure mixed with pain. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, body responding despite your best efforts to resist.

"N-no, stop..." Your words were lost in the room, your body arching as you succumbed to the overwhelming sensations.

"That's it, let it go," Eunseok whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "Let us hear you, Y/n."

As if on cue, your body convulsed, your screams turning to incoherent moans as you climaxed. Sungchan and Eunseok continued their assault, their pace relentless, driving you to the brink again and again.

Finally, with a final, brutal thrust, Sungchan and Eunseok found their release, their bodies shuddering against your. You lay beneath them, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body aching and sore.

"Damn, that was something," Eunseok said, his voice hoarse.

Sungchan, his breath ragged, nodded in agreement. "A night to remember."

Without another word, they dressed, leaving you naked and exposed on the floor. You lay there, your body trembling, mind reeling from the violation. As the sound of their footsteps faded, you curled into a ball, your sobs echoing in the empty room.

The party continued outside, the music and laughter a stark contrast to the dark scene that had just unfolded. Sungchan and Eunseok, their dark desires satisfied, rejoined the celebration, leaving you alone with shattered innocence.

[spiderb00]

hey, so you've talked about how jealous or possesive the kats are, or how would they react to a girl being close to their girlfriends.

But how would the kats' girlfriends react in the same position?

I feel like Manon's would be very jealous and FamOut!Y/N would be the chilliest.

(Can I be <3anon?)

This was so much fun to write. btw, welcome <3 anon.

Manon's girlfriend would be pissed, she knows Manon is attractive and hot, but she won't let anyone get close to her woman.

Most of the time, she can only intimidate the person who is very close to Manon with a look. I mean, the girl is scary, she has a whole style of her own, a lot of confidence and she certainly has enough muscle to fight.

If the look doesn't work, she'll just grab Manon in front of the person who's flirting with her, without any shame. That girl is a complete lunatic, she doesn't care about anyone, she will do whatever she wants.

Famout!Yn is so cool, she usually doesn't get upset with people flirting with Sophia (unless it's a case like that, where the boy was invading Sophia's personal space) She was never convinced, but in this she was.

She was absolutely sure that Sophia would not trade her for someone else, she never saw it happening, just as she never thought about it.

So if someone flirts with Sophia, normally Yn would just put her hand on the Filipina's waist to let the person know that Sophia has someone. If that didn't work, Sophia and Yn would walk away, getting away from the person as quickly as possible.

Now, Daniela's girlfriend was really scary, just one look and people would run for the hills. Daniela was not a saint, she liked to tease Yn whenever she could, and Yn had to deal with her tantrums.

One time, a guy started flirting with Daniela at the Rams game, the guy was in the stands, and even though he spotted Daniela, he kept constantly looking back and smiling, and that was making Yn really pissed off.

Seeing that Daniela was waiting for a reaction from her, Yn rolled her eyes, approaching the Latina from behind and grabbing her waist with muscular arms covered in tattoos, looking towards the guy. Yn almost lost her tough guy pose when the guy widened his eyes and quickly turned towards the game. Things weren't easy for Daniela after the game either, but that's what she wanted from the beginning.

Lara's girlfriend was calm, one jealous person in that relationship was enough. So whenever she saw someone on Lara, she would wait a few minutes and Lara would immediately be grabbing her arm and telling her what a jerk that person was.

Lara was jealous, but she also didn't let anyone get too comfortable with her, so whenever she saw someone getting too close, she would go out and tell them everything as quickly as possible.

Megan's girlfriend just didn't see it, she was so clueless, she could never catch anyone who hit on Megan. She knew her girlfriend was beautiful and that people thought so too, but if someone tried to flirt with Megan at a party or something, she wouldn't react. She would definitely think that the person is being friendly and trying to make a new friend.

The bad thing is that Megan was also completely clueless, so she would also think the person was just being friendly, and would introduce Yn to her like "Oh, this is my girlfriend by the way." and Yn, also clueless, would just reply "Hi, it's nice to meet you."

Megan would say something like "Isn't she cute?!" and start complimenting you, causing the person to back off.

[steamberrystudio]

2024 wrap-up and 2025 plans

It's been a really weird year for me and the last few months have been particularly challenging - so much so that I can't really remember much of the start of the year. There's been a lot that has happened and yet it feels like almost nothing has happened.

With a personal move in the works at the moment, and lots of lists and packing and cleaning, the last couple of weeks have felt like a blur of limbo as well.

But rather than just complaining let's jump into the wrap up and plans for 2025.

2024 Progress Wrap up

When looking back over a year of visual novel development, it can be really easy to forget progress and victories because it all smears together into an indistinct timeline.

You know stuff happened but you lose sight of the details of that stuff.

Even while writing this last night, I forgot that A Faerie's Tale was something completed and released this year. I remembered it just now while doing a final proofread of this post.

Development is such a long and repetitive process that you forget all the individual steps it took to get where you are. When I look back over 2024, I admit I feel like I somehow didn't do that much...that time slipped away while I did very little actual work.  

And of course, that isn't true. (Or is it?? Self-doubt assures me that I didn't do anything noteworthy this year.)

When Stars Collide

At the start of 2024, When Stars Collide sat at 485,000 words. I was finishing up editing Asher's route but had portions of the other routes to draft. The UI was still the old design, most of the backgrounds were incomplete and none of the additional features like the flowcharts and affinity meters were set up.  

I wanted to release an updated demo and the more new people told me they were playing the demo, the more I died inside because it was not at all reflective of the project any more. But I was missing critical backgrounds that I actually got only a few weeks before Episode 1 went to beta.

The point is that back at the start of 2024 the game was still very unfinished but I had big plans. My goal was originally to start releasing episodes in June of 2024 but editing and coding just took so much longer than expected that it just wasn't possible.

From a writing perspective, I learned that drafting and editing a game in this overlapping route style was hard. It was just genuinely so much more difficult than the separate route structure I'm used to. It really requires different processes and styles of planning than what I've done in the past. The burden of meticulously matching a timeline of events across 6 routes simultaneously is really tricky with the way I write and form the choices in my games.  

You kind of have to either never refer back to anything that happens within a choice scenario or you have to remember and track a lot of variables and conversations and events. Additionally, writing one plot line from multiple relationship perspectives is actually quite tricky. Things have to align in very specific ways but you also kind of want to make sure that each play through is interesting. You don't want the conversations within the LI-specific content to be identical but they have to be similar enough you can manage the difference with a few key variables.  

I honestly found it a really exhausting way to write. There's so much less complexity and so much more freedom when you are writing separate routes. And for that reason, the writing took a lot longer than I am used to.

One day I want to write up all my thoughts on route structure in visual novels but I haven't had time yet.

Ultimately I drafted about 172,000 words this year. The total word count of the game before I coded it was around 657,000 words - plus an additional 8-10k or so of bonus content. Of course, that shrinks when I code it but that was the total uncoded word count. So that is quite a jump from the 485,000 words I started with this year.  

I always say that working on VNs really skews your view of what "a lot" of words is. To me, as weird as it is to say, 180k doesn't feel like that much writing, which is silly because it's like writing two YA novels.   

But between the end of the Kickstarter for Gilded Shadows and the end of that year, I think I wrote about 250,000 words. That's 70,000 more words but in less time. I think it just shows how much more difficult writing WSC has been due to the structure of the routes.  

I remember having a conversation with someone once where she told me that writing a game like Gilded Shadows is *definitely* harder and more work than writing a game like When Stars Collide. GS has multiple plots and a lot more words. In WSC, the routes share a plot, they share scenes and content, there's only one plot line and there are far fewer words.  

I think it really underestimates the simplicity buff and the freedom buff that you get from having a single separate route in its own space time where you don't have to care as heavily about continuity across routes or a shared timeline of events or all of this other stuff that was such a burden to me when writing overlapping routes.  

I maintain that I'm really glad I wrote When Stars Collide the way I did. I learned so much about game structure and choices and all this mechanical stuff about how visual novels work that I'd never really had to think about for. It was really, really enlightening.  

But I will never do this game structure again. Lemme just say that.  

Drafting aside, I had to also edit all that writing which was its own special layer of hell.  

And then the art. The art has been enjoyable. I really love this game's aesthetic and the character designs. And the characters. I really enjoy them all so much. They are the most adorable crew of nerdy gremlins out there.  

But the art has had is own challenges. I've done about 20 CGs for the game so far and a lot of them are easy enough but the colour slider MC is definitely a bit of a challenge for the CGs. With GS where I recoloured by hand, there were times that I had to slightly tweak Morgan's default colours to look good in CGs. For instance, one of her skin tones looked quite odd next to Magnus, who is very pink. And I had to just slightly tweak that skin tone in his CGs so they looked okay together side by side. It was easy to test that sort of thing before the CG even got into the game.

But I colour Wil in greyscale and I don't see them in colour until I test. And each colour available on the slider is represented by a number. And there are essentially 100 of them. So testing all of those isn't really viable. I do test multiple skin tones from my saves. But in some ways it's more cumbersome to make sure all of that looks good.  

Wil also has 8 hairstyles…in two colours (which are recoloured manually because a couple of the hairstyles just don't really looks as good recoloured automatically (it's my art, not the dynamic colour slider tool).  

It's a lot of work. Hair 5 usually puts my hand out of commission for the rest of the day (so I save it for last. Ha ha). I don't regret it and again, it's something I wanted to to do as an experiment. I knew that 5 hairstyles was probably manageable and 8 was definitely pushing and I was right so no hard lessons really learned there.  It's sometimes valuable experience to push yourself right to that line and really see where the division between "feasible" and "too much" really is. Because then it's no longer hypothetical. You know where the line is.  

A lot of how WSC is set up was me testing if the line was where I thought it was.

Beyond the art, I also got all the other new features set up and experimented with a few things I hadn't been planning on. Many of those features had the core elements set up and coded by wonderful programmer friends and colleagues (Feniks and Windchimes and Jeneara) but I still had to implement all those things in the code to make them function as part of the game.  

Which, for things like the flowcharts - is time consuming. Flowcharts are like that.  

The flowcharts in WSC use a different method than the ones in GS. It's a brand new tool and I'm still learning how to use it but there are also some kinks that rear their heads (not those kind, you guys! The annoying kind that break the game!)  

I think the feature most people are most excited about would be the save screen. It's quite popular. Ha ha.  

With all of that stuff done, I was able to finally….*finally* release the official version of Episode 1 to Patreon and on Itch.  

And I released Episode 2 (minus two CGs that have been delayed by an abrupt move to a new place and me just not having time to draw right now) to Patrons in early access. (and the Itch version should go out mid-January. I hope).

So the point is…that is actually a fair amount of work that has taken place this year. And a lot of challenges that have been met and overcome.

A Faerie's Tale

Another thing I did this year was finish and release A Faerie's Tale as part of Amare Fest and with a team of friends to help out.

AFT is a concept I've had since about 2020 (prior to WSC actually). It was based on a dream I had as was always meant to be a cute little side project. But it kind of fell by the wayside in favour of my larger projects.

Being able to get it released was definitely fun. Jen and I definitely want to go back to it and release Lachan's route though - it was something we didn't have time for previously and it would be nice to get it truly complete.

Thornewood

And while I haven't specifically mentioned it anywhere outside of my server and Patreon...

The truth is...

I've secretly been planning my next project. But not really all that secretly since I have mentioned it a few times.

I've been torn, for a while, on two projects I'd like to tackle. One is called The Crown Wheel and the other is called (tentatively) Thornewood. I still go back and forth over which one I really want to do next. 

Crown Wheel is the one I *really* want to get out there. It's another story that's close to my heart with some ancient characters of mine that I really love and would love to throw out there for other people to enjoy. But…

Thornewood is a bit more solid a project when it comes to planning and plot. Crown Wheel is a little more nebulous in terms of where the story would go. I'm getting side tracked…I'll get into this more in my 2025 plans.

I have not been working on any other project regularly or in any truly significant way. I've really been working on outlines and character profiles more than anything and I typically do it late at night when I can't sleep but can't draw any more because I'm resting for the day and while I just don't want to be working on WSC because I worked on it all day.

I think I have about 13000 words of outline. I did a rough summary of each route and have been trying to expand those and detail them out a little bit more. So technically that is work I've done this year too.

2024 still somehow feels like a weird year for development. I can't articulate why but it definitely was an odd year for sure.

So What are my 2025 Plans?

That's really the big question at this point. What is in store for Steamberry Studio?

First and foremost, the plan is to get When Stars Collide fully released. This isn't as straightforward as it seems though. With the writing complete, I'm focused on the coding and art, but...

Coding expressions is currently a bit tedious because there have been a ton of group scenes in this game so far. This is because it is somewhat of a 'closed set' so when you are not 1x1 with a love interest…you tend to be with a group. This will diminish in upcoming chapters as the plot kicks off more and you also get longer scenes with the love interests. But unfortunately it does come back in the last few chapters.  

But for now I'm looking forward to heading into parts of the game that are more 1x1 or at least smaller groups at a time.  

Additionally the CG situation has been somewhat up in the air for me. I was originally planning to do CGs in every chapter but I wasn't sure if that would a) be sustainable for me and b) make sense.  

I suspected that there would be chapters coming up where there just weren't necessarily any good CG moments. So the "CGs in every chapter" thing was always going to be a bit squishy.   

I know, for instance, that chapter 6 probably won't have any because there aren't any good moments for it to be honest?  

Anyway. I am thinking that I may take a less formulaic approach to CGs and focus on making sure there are CGs in every episode if not every chapter. Maybe chapters 5, 8, 10...and then...Idk. One or two of the ending chapters. 

Even if it's just four of the remaining chapters, that's still 24 more illustrations for the game. Which I feel like is a very reasonable amount considering there are already about 20. 

Another thing I'm really going back and forth on is the nature of episodes moving forward.

Do I want to continue with 2 chapters per episode or do I want to drop to 1 chapter per episode? I battle myself on this all the time. It's such a hard call for me.

One challenge with moving into single chapter episodes is that I just feel the episodes would be less satisfying with only one chapter. Realistically the chapters aren't that small - even the short ones are more than 30,000 words each. That's...half a YA novel.

But, again, *realistically* when we reduce that to a play time, it's not that much.

People consume unvoiced visual novels at a rate of about 250 words per minute. That means 15,000 words per hour.

So 30k is just two hours of content. When you start dividing this up between "main plot" and "LI route content", you start whittling away at how much content *per character* there is. If there are 20,000 words of "LI content" - yeah, that's more than half the chapter. But that gets divided by 6 characters. And that means 13 minutes of playable content *including all the choices* for each character which isn't a lot. And most people are not going to play through every choice option.

Which means people could be getting through the unique content for their favourite character in less than 10 minutes.

By combining chapters, that means we get episodes that are 70,000 words or 90,000 words. It boosts the amount of content per character by a significant amount and that is really what I'm looking at when I consider episode layout. 

I try to think about what is going to make for the most satisfying episode for players. The drawback of 2 chapters per episode is that it's…a lot. It's a lot of expressions. It's a lot of flowchart work.  

It just takes more time.

Regardless of whether it's just 1 chapter at a time or whether it's 2 chapters at a time, I really want to move forward with steady releases and get the game fully released to players in 2025. That is obviously my primary focus going forward.   

The story is finished. It's burning a hole in my laptop. (Not really). But I want to get it released.

Having the story already written but delivering it in smaller bites to players is doing a lot to save my drawing hand from inevitable doom but it's so hard for me mentally. I know the things coming up in future episodes and I'm so keen to release it and see reactions and talk to people about it. And it's just so difficult to not be able to do that as fast as I want.

I'm trying to be patient and I hope all of you are willing to be patient with me.

In other work…

I will likely continue to plan out my next game on the side, though I don't intend to start working on it or writing it until WSC completes. It's too hard to manage two projects like that - at least for me - most of the time.

When it comes to Thornewood (the most likely contender for 'next project'), it is a 'dark fantasy' in that the setting is gritty and grimy fantasy with an underlying darkness in the world. It's not really a dark romance though.

I always view dark fantasy as including settings where the darkness comes from outside the main character interactions. The setting is dark and the stories have danger and darkness....

But dark romance is when the relationships themselves are also dark. And I feel like I don't really write dark romance. I don't write perfect relationships either but I wouldn't describe them as 'dark' by any stretch.

Either way I'm looking forward to working on something more overtly fantasy again.

I've been dabbling in science fiction for a long time now (since 2019 - that's when I started Gilded Shadows!!) and I've been wanting to move back into fantasy settings for a while now.  

Even just working on the profiles and outlines and world building for fantasy projects, it feels like the Fae and the magic are calling me back home. So I'm really eager to wrap up WSC and bury myself in a more fantasy themed setting again.

But I have a long journey to get to that point.

There's a lot to do in 2025 and I still have a lot of stories to tell.

I hope you will all be here with me for the journey.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Merry Christmas to you too my wonderful friend!🎄💗

Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.

Thank you! I love this headcanon and I really hope that in the prequel series "Vought Rising" that we're able to see a little more of Ben's relationship with his father and hopefully let us learn more about his mother. I know that this headcanon is a little "dean-like" but I think it also kinda plays into the "angel in the house" phenomenon that started in the mid to late 1800s. But the headcanon to me, makes sense. Ben has so many issues with his dad and I honestly don't think that if his mother was around that Ben's father would give him such a hard time or allow Ben to grow up in that kind of enviornment.

I also wanted to give Ben some "happy" memories from his childhood that he could compare what the reader was doing for him to something that was familiar and something that resonated with him😊, something about Christmas that was "familiar."

Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. 🤣

He is the KING of taking it out on others LOL 😂 He also takes it out on Hughie in this fic and I felt so bad doing that to Hughie, but it is so in character for Ben 😒

Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.

I use this headcanon in my other series Madness, (same with Ben's mother), but to me it seems to make sense. That Ben would have a family mansion somewhere that is full of terrible memories from his father being a total jerk to him and never wanted to set foot inside. "Like a mausoleum of his old life" EXACTLY! It's just a big drafty old house that Ben can't go into because even though he says he's not afraid of anything, he can still feel his father's disapproval and disappointment, and going "home" to where he grew up would only make it worse.

Ben doesn't know what a home is because of what his father did, and now the reader is slowly showing him what it means. I also low-key wanna write the fic of her and him coming back to his house and him being hesitant and her just wandering around in complete shock. 🤔

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

Girl, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 I had to 😂 It's really just pouring on the hurt and he just really loved his mom 😭

Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂

I knoooowwww. 😂 I love that about your BMD reader, that she isn't afraid to tease him and he just absolutely HATES it, but he loves her so he can't do anything about it and she knows it. I'll bet that he thinks the real problem is that she knows it LOL 😂

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

He does, man is a total SIMP 😊

People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.

Thank you! 😊 You're right, I think that there's a disconnect about the idea that a "traditional/old-fashioned" man can't be respectful and is always labeled "sexist" or "toxic." And it's wrong, because you can find a man who is respectful, forward thinking, and who has those "old-fashioned/traditional" values (CHIVALRY! 😂) that really translate into putting their girl first, being respectful of what she wants to say, trying to protect her (not because they don't think she can protect herself, but because they want to), and doing things for her (again not because they think she can't do it herself) but because they genuinely care about her. It's the difference between a man and a boy tbh 💅🏻

Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚

I know 💗, I really wanted the reader to make something for him, just so that he could again be reminded how much that she loves him and isn't staying with him just because it's convenient or because he's attractive or because she's settling. Also I like that you picked up on the "first" thing again, because that was exactly what I was trying to do lol 😊. It's hard to find firsts for a guy who's over 100 years old 😂

And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. 🥹 A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗

This one was extremely fluffy, but so fun to write! Ben getting her a gift that meant something so intimate to him that he wouldn't have given to anyone else in the past, really just made me melt when I wrote it 🥺 Because he's never wanted to share those pieces of himself with someone else and now he has the reader and I'm just *crying*😭. AND yes! Him saying that he would have brought her home to meet his mom just destroyed me 😭

This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!

Thank you so much my wonderful talented friend! 🥰 It really does read like an epilogue and I did not notice that lol 😅

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary:  All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding,  and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late.  He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him. 

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.  

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you,  that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life,  you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss.  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry.  Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do!  And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck.  The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.” 

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly.  "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question. 

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

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[malk1ns]

i read a fic recently with rookie sid and 2010 geno and i’ve been thinking of that a lot so… for your prompt maybe baby sid being enamored by an older geno? nsfw or pg is up to you :P merry christmas to you too btw!!

ok so once upon a time i wrote this fic which is pretty much exactly that premise! and i really loved writing it and it's still one of my personal favorites of mine, so i'm going to take your prompt and use it as an excuse to write a wee little follow-up, from sid's point of view...no smut or anything in this one, just a cranky 22 year old with a massive (reciprocated) crush on his captain. you'll have to read the first one for this to make sense!

Sid thought it would get easier when his dad retired.

Well, really, he expected that after a couple of months he wouldn't feel so desperate for Geno all the time. Not that he wouldn't still want him, of course not, Geno was the defining catalyst of Sid's sexual awakening and the star of 90% of his fantasies from adolescence onwards, but Sid thought that maybe after the first few times, when Geno didn't get sick of him or tell him they needed to stop, he'd be able to be a little more mature about the whole thing.

As it happens, though, he spent the rest of his rookie year in single-minded pursuit of two things: 100 points, and Geno's dick.

It's a good thing he had his dad's example to make sure he stayed focused on his game. If his work ethic and internal motivation weren't already firmly ingrained, Sid might have let his head be turned so far by getting what he wanted after so much time that he let his game slip.

Geno probably wouldn't have let that happen, though. He takes hockey more seriously than Sid does, even, and for as much time as they spent sneaking around to be together, Sid thinks they probably doubled that in extra ice time after practice, practicing one-timers and head-fakes and set plays to try out on the man advantage.

Sid's dad was always there too, is the thing. Sid lives at home still, his mom won't let him buy his own place until he signs his first real contract and isn't blowing an entire season's worth of income on a house, and Sid very quickly ran out of reasons to get his dad to head home early and let Geno drive him back. It made the time with Geno he managed to steal all the better.

Sid, maybe stupidly, thought that once his rookie year was over, when his dad officially retired and wasn't on the team anymore, he'd have a little more separation from his parents at the rink.

His dad barely stayed retired two months before his mom practically pushed him out the door directly into the goalie development role the Penguins offered him, though, and Sid's sophomore season starts the same way his rookie year did—sitting in the passenger seat of his Dad's truck, glaring out the window on the way to practice.

He must be making quite a face, because Geno's already there and half-changed into his gear when Sid walks into the locker room, and when he sees Sid's expression he does that thing with his jaw where he's trying not to laugh out loud.

Sid only scowls harder. Even Geno in his hockey pants and nothing else isn't enough to cheer him up.

It ends up turning out okay, though. Sid's mom stops asking so many questions about where he's going at night when his dad isn't around to give her the exact run-down of official team activities. Sid isn't sharing a hotel room on roadies anymore, so if he sneaks out after curfew and tiptoes down the hall to Geno's room, there's nobody to tattle, and no chance that he'll run into his dad out looking for the ice machine. And his dad gets so wrapped up in working with the goalies that they never finish practice at the same time, so if Sid makes some vague excuse about reviewing tape with the power play unit and he'll catch a ride, his dad waves him off without protest.

His schedule opens up, just like that. And Geno's more than happy to fill his time, tumbling Sid into bed and blowing his mind at every available opportunity. Their first California road trip, the one with built-in off-days for recreation, had been a revelation—after figuring out that yes, Geno really can eat someone out until they cry, Sid spent their beach day so distracted he was forced out of the volleyball game for bringing his team down.

There's a contract waiting for him on July 1, Sid knows. Pat hasn't sent him the details yet, but Sid knows it's good, something that will set him up for life pretty much, with signing bonuses to protect his earnings in case of another lockout and full trade protection as soon as he's eligible.

He's already talked to the realtor most of the guys use. She'd offered a few options in Cranberry, close to the practice facilities and where he grew up, but Sid told her he wants to get a little distance from his folks, somewhere he can set up his own house and not have his mom tempted to walk down the block and redecorate every other week.

And if the neighborhood he told her to focus on is Geno's, well, Sid's favorite breakfast place is there too, and he's always liked older parts of the city, with big trees and historic homes.

The fact that he could be within a ten-minute drive of Geno's house is just an extra perk.

[caffedrine]

Gilbert and Luke - Christmas Special: The Beasts' Drink - Event Translation

Thank you to @otomehoneyybearr for providing the script for this event.

This is a poor attempt at a fan translation, so take everything with a grain of salt. For a better translation, buy this when it comes out on the ENG server.

On a winter day as Christmas approaches, somewhere---

Gilbert: “Merry Christmas!”

Luke: “...”

Gilbert: “That door has an automatic lock, so you can't escape.”

Luke: “Damn it, I knew you’d do something like this…”

Gilbert: “Too bad, right? Come on, sit down already.”

Luke: “No. I want to go to the party—”

Gilbert: “You won’t be so cruel as to not eat the Christmas meal prepared by Papa, will you, Luke?”

Gilbert: “This delicious dish made with plenty of honey, specially cooked just for you.”

Gilbert: “You wouldn���t waste it, would you?”

Luke: “Fine, fine, I get it! I’ll join you!”

Gilbert: “Hehe, Luke is such a straightforward and good boy. Here, hold the glass.”

Gilbert: “Cheers!”

Luke: “...yeah.”

Gilbert: “Now, let’s give a present to the good boy right away.”

Luke: “...It’s not something dangerous, right?”

Gilbert: “Isn't it exciting that you won’t know what’s inside until you open it?”

Luke: “Is that your way of saying you won’t tell me?”

Gilbert: “Oh, this time, you’re accepting it nicely. You even stretched out your hand properly.”

Luke: “If I don’t accept it, I’ll never get out of here for the rest of my life.”

Gilbert: “Good boy, good boy.”

Luke: “So… what’s inside? It’s not that big of a box, but it’s pretty heavy.”

Luke: “Huh, what’s this… papers and envelopes?”

Gilbert: “As you can see, the present for Luke is stationary supplies for 365 days.”

Luke: “You… threw a Christmas party just for this, didn’t you?”

Gilbert: “That’s quite the accusation; I genuinely wanted to enjoy a Christmas party with you, Luke!”

Gilbert: “But you understand why I chose this as a present, right?”

Gilbert: “Recently, it’s been a problem that I haven’t received any updates about you, Luke.”

Gilbert: “I wonder what you’re doing, if you’re getting into any dangerous situations, or if you’re feeling lonely or anxious.”

Gilbert: “Even though I’ve been sending a few spies daily from far away, you keep losing them because you’re so mischievous.”

Gilbert: “While I do appreciate your ability to shake off professional spies, not having any updates is concerning. What should I do?”

Gilbert: “Alright then, if that’s the case, I just need to have you write an update yourself. So, go ahead and write one, okay?”

Luke: “‘So, go ahead’ doesn’t mean anything! There’s no way I’m doing something that troublesome!”

Gilbert: “Aww…”

Luke: “Pouting won’t change my mind; I still don’t want to do it!”

Gilbert: “…”

Luke: “I’m not doing it even if you look sad!”

Gilbert: “I see… then I guess I’ll have to increase the number of people watching you.”

Luke: “Huh?”

Gilbert: “If I have you monitored from all directions 24/7, I should get some good updates, right?”

Gilbert: “That’ll also keep you safe. While you’re sleeping, I’ll surround your bed, and if anything happens—”

Luke: “Are you trying to give me insomnia?”

Gilbert: “Then you have no choice but to listen to Papa’s request, okay?”

Gilbert: “You can either write letters for 365 days or be monitored from all directions for 365 days.”

Gilbert: “Your kind papa will let you choose.”

Luke: “Damn it… There’s no way I really have a choice here from the start.”

Gilbert: “Hehe, it’s too late for that, isn’t it?”

[pseudowho]

Random question, during any of your pregnancy’s were you ever insecure about you body, how you were acting, or any of your cravings?

Me and my fiancé were talking about plans for future kids and i’m to scared to ask anyone else. could you give me a small run through of things to expect?

Thank you so much!!

Hey! I'll answer this both as a woman who has done pregnancy and birth three times, and as an experienced midwife. I don't like the 'horror story' sharing that many women do around pregnancy; it muddies the waters, and is supremely anxiety-inducing for anyone who is pregnant while hearing it.

You need to know I could write, and have written, essays on this.

As a midwife: Pregnancy is this period of unique physiological change in your body and mind, that even when it is normal (i.e. normal symptoms, not a sign of an unwell pregnancy) can be profound and lifelong.

These normal symptoms, including but not limited to nausea and vomiting (commonly referred to as morning sickness, though present at any time of day), weight gain, swelling, congestion, mood changes, appetite changes, stretch marks, heartburn and hip/joint pain, can range from barely present/absent, to severe.

Even severe pregnancy symptoms aren't always considered abnormal unless they're making you unwell (i.e. unable to keep any food or water down).

These symptoms can be altered by many of your pre-existing conditions; your weight and general health, your lifestyle and eating habits, your exercise habits, simple dumb luck/genetics, family history, mental health and body image/dysmorphia, etc.

So in that respect, in a normal pregnancy, I have seen some women who are extremely insecure and struggling to cope with the changes to their body and mind, and some women who absolutely breeze through it like pregnancy hasn't even affected them. Nowhere on this spectrum does it ever surprise me.

So now I'll talk about the average first pregnancy. As I said...the experience varies wildly.

Early on in your pregnancy (up to about 12 weeks) often feels like you're in an utter no-man's land. You feel like healthcare professionals aren't wildly interested in you; they'll take your history and 'book' your pregnancy in from (now this is based on the UK) about 8 weeks pregnancy (please note, your 'weeks of pregnancy' aren't calculated from the moment you fall pregnant, it is calculated from the first day of your last period, so in a woman with a regular 28-30 day cycle, there usually feels like there's a 'disparity' of about 2 weeks in your dates-- there isn't, this is how we calculate it). You may have an early scan or two. Essentially, we wait to see if the pregnancy is continuing; lots of miscarriages happen in the first 8 weeks. About 1/3 of pregnancies will miscarry here, in fact.

Tiredness is real at this stage. You may feel like you want to sleep constantly. It's shit that at this stage you often feel the worst, but feel like you're also just being expected to 'get on with it'. Please ask for help. If your partner isn't an equal partner pre-pregnancy, best of luck to you. You may feel utterly useless sometimes days from exhaustion, and this is normal I'm afraid.

Mid pregnancy drags, but you're usually starting to feel a bit better. The top of your uterus doesn't even begin to rise out of your pelvic brim until about 16 weeks, and the lower part of the uterus only begins to expand and form (creating that 'pregnant' belly look) from about 28 weeks, so don't try to force a bump that simply isn't there. Lots of women are very keen to look pregnant. Just chill. It's okay if you dont. Take it easy.

You do not need to eat for two; your pregnancy uses your intake more effectively when you're pregnant. Do take pregnancy specific multivitamins though. They don't need to be expensive or fancy ones; normal store bought are generally just the same, without all the fancy packaging.

Later pregnancy (the third trimester, 28 weeks onwards), you will likely notice that tiredness creeping in again. This is where your baby is largely formed structurally, and is maturing and gaining size and weight. Please ignore any and all comments from people who look at you and announce that you will have a big/small baby. They're idiots and likely wrong. Laugh it off. Here is where you may start to notice things like heartburn, hip pain, mood changes coming back again. You're heavy, and it's harder to move, and your organs are moving out of the way to facilitate a baby. Cut yourself some slack if at all possible.

So...now to me and what I had.

As Haitch: (tw/cw: suicidal ideations) So it's now a running joke, that my body was so 'good' at pregnancy, so utterly flooded with hormones, that while I became this perfect machine for growing and birthing babies, pregnancy broke me.

I spent every waking minute of the first 16 weeks nauseous and exhausted, bone deep exhausted. I had all the usual symptoms hit hard and early. I suffered severe pelvic separation, agonising pain, and @mrhaitch had to help me up from an early stage.

Thankfully, he was exquisite pregnancy support. Full is based on him, after all.

I ended up on some pretty strong medication for my heartburn, as it was severe enough that my stomach acid was damaging my vocal chords.

Worst of all was my mental health. From 26-28 weeks, your progesterone levels boom. This is normal. But this is where we discovered that progesterone is a very bad hormone for me. I developed severe antenatal depression and anxiety, and antenatal psychosis. I was paranoid, delusional, fragile and had active suicidal ideations. I had plans on how I would end my life. This is all utterly unlike me.

With my first pregnancy, our son was born at 42 weeks after a fast, normal labour, but I don't know how I didn't end my own life towards the end of my pregnancy. With my second two, we were more on it, and my lovely colleagues induced my labours from 38 weeks, purely because my mental health was so bad.

I was watched like a hawk in pregnancy 3. We knew I would lose my mind...and sadly, I did. I was medicated but It did little to help. It was at that point (October/November 2024) that I began writing on Tumblr...and here I am.

So as I have said...lots of things you could expect.

To this day in my 13 year Midwifery career, I have seen fewer than 10 women whose mental health was affected as badly my pregnancy as mine was. So I wouldn't worry too much about that.

Phew. If you have any more specific questions, I would be happy to answer.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[cpvnksabm]

@ rtc fic writers

you really do have to research neuromuscular disabilities if ricky significantly appears in your fics. few to no exceptions. sorry.

ricky potts is important disability representation and, more specifically, he has a rare degenerative neuromuscular disease. this specific representation is important and therefore it's important to depict his neuromuscular disorder accurately. all disabilities are different and it's a huge problem when people, not understanding and/or not wanting to research neuromuscular disorders specifically, just give him any disability while erasing the one he canonically has, and think it's fine just because "well he's still disabled isn't he?".

i think canon (as in 2015-2018 scripts) is a good starting reference point for depicting ricky accurately because again, the specific disability he has in canon is important to represent. but canon also only seriously depicts him as disabled very briefly on-stage and spends most of the musical doing singing and dancing that he wouldn't be physically capable of if he was alive. if you're depicting ricky realistically for longer than canon does then you will have to do outside research to see how his disability would likely impact him, because you're definitely not getting a full picture from him using crutches for 2 minutes onstage.

i think sometimes people assume they don't have to worry about researching to write ricky, because they don't think he's a major enough character for his disability to become relevant - or, more upsettingly, i think sometimes people make ricky a more minor character so that his disability won't become relevant, because that way they don't have to do research.

unfortunately there's one big issue here, which is that if you haven't done the research, how can you know when his disability will be relevant?

ricky has a complex disability that would realistically affect his whole life in varying ways and what we see in canon is only a surface level view. let's say you're writing a fic where you don't need to bother researching for ricky because his only appearance is going out for lunch with the choir - did you know that neuromuscular disorders, especially ones that cause difficulty speaking or an inability to speak (which ricky has!), often cause difficulty swallowing? this would affect his diet and in fact potentially imply that he uses a feeding tube (which is also implied by one of ocean's lines in WTWN), making it very relevant when getting lunch with the choir!

of course that lunch idea is just a hypothetical example, and it's just one example. what i'm saying here is that there are many activities that seem simple, that you wouldn't even think twice about in relation to ricky, that would realistically be complicated by his disability.

of course not every fic has to tackle disability in detail, or even has time to do so, but it's noticeable when something happens where ricky's disability would impact him and it just isn't mentioned. it's something that can accidentally slide into disability erasure, which is a problem, and it also just makes it really obvious when the writer wasn't aware of something or didn't think very hard about it. heck this post is mainly directed at fic writers but i've even seen headcanon posts where it's been obvious the OP needed to do a little more research.

so basically, when i say you need to research to write ricky accurately & understand his disability, i don't just mean that if you're planning on writing a fic that significantly involves his disability you should research for that fic specifically. i think that you should do some basic research before you plan on writing anything, just to make sure you understand his disability when you're active in the fandom. and then if his disability becomes more relevant in a fic - which you will be able to recognise due to the basic research you've already done - you can do more research as needed.

besides, even if it turns out you never write anything where this is relevant, there's no harm in learning more about neuromuscular disease and disability in general! it might become useful information in real life at some point, or it might just be good to know.

[safination]

There's Children Screaming in the Streets

|Masterlist| Parings: Alasot x OC! Mina Warnings/ Tags: Honestly, sadness. A big smoll sad. Chaos in the streets. It's insanity. WlW. Fem!Reader A/N: So, this isn't my usual Alastor x reader, but hush. I do what I want. This is a gift for a friend of mine @whatswrongwithblue. This is for you <3. Merry Christmas. I've been wanting to write you this story for a while but I've been too shy, but I finally found the courage to give this to you. I hope you enjoy it Mina is her OC, and she's honestly the best. This takes place during "Don't Take That Sinner From Me" from Blue's fic "The Fire in the Sin," which I highly encourage everyone to check out. Please check out her amazing story. It's honestly gold.

ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ

Your wife runs her thumb up and down and up and down the skin of your hand. She does it in such a rhythmic and soft way that it contrasts the small huff in her steps. There’s a cute frown on her lips as you drag her, hand in hand, across the streets of Hell.

How cute!

She rolls her eyes as you give her the brightest smile you can muster . . . but she eventually smiles back nonetheless. “Are you going to drag me out the whole day?” she signs at you, her hands carefully making each word. “This isn’t exactly how I imagined spending my weekend.”

You position yourself in her line of sight, making sure she can see the way your lips move. “Yes, I think I will if you keep complaining like that,” you say, laughing a little, and press a quick kiss on her cheek. “Will that suffice as your payment?”

 “I’m going to need something better than that if you expect me to stay.” She snorts at you, and even if she cannot hear it, the sound she makes is too cute. “A proper one this time.”

You laugh a little louder, slowly pulling her by her shirt to steal a kiss from her lips. There’s a small giggle as you do. “I can give you more la—”

 B̷̨̨̢̨̨̧̲͔̜̳̟͈̳̫̖̗̻̩̗̝̻͇̼̖͚͙̠̪̖̭̳͚̘̬̥̰̙͉̞̈́͂͊̍͜͝͠r̷̨̨̡̢̩̜͈̼̭͍̮̰̙̮̝̺͓̦̮̀͆̌̀̔͑͛͊̌̆͋̊̀̊̓͂͗̂̑̀̑́͂͋̎͆̔͛̊̊̈́̔̆̋̈́̂̚͘͠͝͝i̴̧͇͚̣̟͑͗͊̐̅̈́̋̉̾͆̎̂̆̇̿̐̓̾̿͑͗́̅͊͑͘̕̕͝͝n̷̛͔̼͚͓̝̺̙͍̩̤̖̪͔͖̞͓̈́̈́͗͛̀͊̀͆͋̈́̄͐̋͘͘͜ͅġ̸̡̫̖̯̦̪͈͍͇̺̭͚̼͇̤͉̗̰͖͕̥̀͊̈̐͛͌̇̔͒͆̈́͘͜͜͝͝ ̸̧̡͚̠̤̦̩͈͛͗̉̅͒̉̋͆̑̏͆͌͌͒̚ͅm̶̧̨̧̧̡̛̛͕̥̱̼̩̞̲̬͖̻̥̬̜͇͈͕̞̻̙̫̩̯̪̱͖̤̟̪͙̯̮̫̻̘͇̅̊̀̓̉̾̑̽̈́̇͝e̸̢̢̧̢̜̥̳̦͇̹̜̩̲͍͕̟͓̳̯̦̥͎͔̭̹̝̥̼͔͉̾̽̈́̋̓͆̄́ͅ ̸̮̼̣̤̗̩̩̫̳̬͉̝̳͇̠̖̘̰̽͋̈̀̊̒͑̈̒̾̂̋̄̎͋̈́͂̈́̉͂̄͌͌̄̓̕͘͝͠͠A̷̧̬͕͎͈͆̆́̅͜͜͜l̵̨̹̦̤̟̳͕͙͍̣͈̻͕̲̣̰͍͖̜̺̙̱͕͓͇̻̘͓͖͑͗́́̀̋͂͒̿͗̒͘͠ą̸̧̢̛̻̗̝̙̟͔̖̦̗̬͎̩͕̼̗͓̳̲̖̩̗͉̮͇̪͊̓̒̃̒̌͌̃̽̈́́̑̈̆̅̌̿͑̎̇͂͐̊̈́̎̅̈͐̑̚̕̚͝ͅş̷̨̧̧̛̭͈̖͕̗̙̰̟̭̣̹̠͖̘̰̻̖̤͖̰̖̙͊͌̓́͛̉̄́̕͜͝ẗ̶͇͕̭̗̟́͒̋̒͝ǫ̵̛̼̻̗͖̝̞̻̱̲̼̠̩̤̩̠̮̯̙̪̞͖͖̅̅͂͑̇̈̄͗̉͌̇̌̊̏̉́͐̾̀̂͋̅̎̆͆̇̅̓͐̿͘̕͘̚͘̕͠͠͠ŕ̵̢̡̛̘̼̺̲̭̱̥̤̟̥͖̲̪͙̺̭͙̣͓̤̗͇̆̉̅͆͑̓̇̌̂̀́̄̇͂̄̓͒̓̃̾̊́̕͘̕͜͝͝͝͝

It starts off as a soft melody, the distance making it almost impossible to hear, but the voice is there. It echoes vividly against the curses and the booming sounds of gunfire. The voice that you hear . . . it’s . . . it’s beautiful. It reminds you of the laughter of your wife, or those small squeaks she makes when you sneak up on her.

The voice that calls out to you sings a soft tune. It’s ethereal, almost so enchanting that it brings you into a small lull. It reminds you of the Queen’s voice.

B̵̛̲̺̰̼͇̼̻͚̥͇̝̣̺͈̣̞͍̞̭͈̭͇̥̋̑̂̍̅̍̈́̈́́͋̀̽̓͊͘͘͜͜͜͠ͅr̵̛̤͕̭̩͈̤͓̬̤̟̳̘͓̟͈̳̀͒̓̑͋̄͂͑͒͋͗̿̋̐̕͝ͅi̶͓̽̈́̂n̸̢̬̮͓̣̣̼͚̟̍̆́̉̃̽̈́̎̉̈́̅̿͛̈͝ͅg̸̢̡͙̝͚͔̻͓̝̖̫̩̮͊̈́ ̷̢͈̬̣̪̞̖̭̼̪̪̠̠̳̩̜́̓̇m̴̧̨̛͔̘̹̱͈̖͕̻̤̲̞̓̈́̆̌̽̂͋̌̎̈̐́̒͂̒̓̕̚ͅe̶̮͍̯͚̦̣̤̞̥̤̫̞̫̳̙̘͔͗̀̀̃̎̿͑́̕͜͜͝ ̵̠̬̬̥̑̒̓̌̾͋̔̌̈̓̾̐͐̂̋̓̕͘͜͝͝A̴̡̨̨̨̨̤̭͙̙̘̜̣̣̖̳͕͕͎̜͇͔͉̺̙͗͂͜ͅl̶̡̨̠̖̟͚̗̤̪̱̗͎͎̼͚̻̥̏̓̒̽̐͋̓͆̿̂͂͂̑̔̾̏̈́̚̕͝ḁ̵̧͙̲̭͚͕̣̬͍͎̰̠̰͇̭̒̿̽́̅̾̐̌͜ͅs̸̡͎͕͚͚̫̙̯̖̱̜̠͕̻̞̲͗̌̀̈́ť̵̢̧̤̝̯͍̝̪͎̬͉̝͚̮̦̼͖̱̩̜͔͛̍ͅơ̴̠̘̹̇̎̂̊̉̌͑͘̕̕r̵̫̻̜̖̭̮̯̝̫̣͉̳̪̺̮̦͔͕̩͓̥̬͊̂̌͌̍̈́̿́̇̂́̿͑̂̀̋̂͝͝ͅ

The trance breaks when your wife tugs in your hand. “What’s wrong?” she signs. “You don’t look too well.”

You blink, trying to shake off the effects of the song. That owner of that voice must be one powerful Sinner if even the softest melodies affect you like this. It would be too dangerous to stay. “I . . . don’t know,” you say, slowly, but give her a bright smile. “Let’s be safe, and just go home.”

“But our errands.”

Truthfully, it was your errands, and she just got dragged along.

“We can always just do it tomorrow,” you say, grabbing her hand. “We have eternity to do these things together.”

There’s a suspicious look on her face, but she nods once, and pulls you to the direction of your home. 

You spare one last glance at where the voice sings after you, then follow after her. After all is said and done, this is still Hell. It’s better not to get mixed up with anything dangerous, not when your little bubble of Heaven hangs in the balance.

B̷̛̬͓͉͔͎̺̭̪̺͐͐̈́̒̎́̋̄̐̌̽̒̈́̔̏ṛ̶̳͙̘̣̼̝͕̲̤͊̈̇̔̀̉̇̎͜͝͝i̸̛͓̻̭̦̯̬̮̙̣̘͍̦͓̝̹͎̓̂̈́̔̔͐́̅̎̅̋͘͝ň̸̩̙̮͒́͗̇̈́́̔ģ̶̞͎̳̼̯̳̞̮̹̼̰̲͇̑͊͑͋̀̆̂̉̏͑͋̑͆̑͘͝ ̴̧̡̛̗̺̖̭̭͖̞̮̯̱̭̈́̄̇͌̐͑̿̍̄͛̓̑̂̕̕͜͝m̶̨̧̩̪̰̭̬̠̣̜̥͔͖̘͙̝̔͂̍̈́̓͂̋̎͋̔̌̆̀̕͝͠͝é̷̖̱̭̞̘͕͍͉͈̟̐̏̀͌̅̆̋̂̿͌͝ ̸̧̜̞͓̘̱̟̣̅͐͑̈́̂̀́̌̓̃͋̕͝͝͝Ă̷̧̙͌̓̀͆̚l̴̢̤̦̺̤̼̭̳̺̝̮͙̇̂̅̏́͐̕͜a̶̢̜̥͓̰͓̬̣̰͍̪̜̮̘̦̬̣̮̍̑̇̀̎̽̍̉͌̃̅̋̈́̅̈͠͠͝s̵̨̛͔͚͓̟̣̣͖̗̰̺̳̠͎͓̞͉̪̩̊̋̋͗͗̈̃̔̒͘͠t̸͍̂̉̍̔̀̆͋͒̒̓͠o̴̢̗͎͎̮̩̭͗̔͐̈́̓̌͊̏̑͆͘͝ŗ̶͓̺̫̱̤̩͓̥̬̐̀̄̓͊̿̿̓̍̌͘ͅ

She bumps into your shoulders, jolting you harshly. “You keep spacing out,” she signs. “Tell me what’s going on. Don’t lie to me.”

“I really don’t know,” you say, pulling her to walk a little faster. “And I don’t want to find out. Let’s just get out of here, yeah? I’m sure it will be fine.”

There’s a small twist on her lips, but your wife nods at you and squeezes your hand with a reassuring smile.

B̴͙̂̑͛̋͂̆͗̂͘͝r̶̭̂́͆͒̎̿́̐̎̎̂͘͝͠ì̷̩̼̞̻̥̖̠̯̼̳̒ṋ̵̥͇͒g̵̡͉̬̟̜̰͎͉͇͔͌̅̃͑͆̓̓͌̄ ̵̡̨̠̤̤̤̪̙̦̝͔͇̯̺́̀͊͒͐̽̆̒́̀͘m̴̤̖͕̩͖̍ȇ̷̞̭̖̪̳̾̆̍͆̊̔͘ ̶̡̛̫̬̠̯̮̥͈̦͍̠̳͎͚͊̃̏́́͛́̿̈́͛͒͋A̵̧͈͈̦̹̼͛̈̌̅͗̐̎͑̅̇̚l̸̡̛͚̺͕̣͎̀͆̎̈́̂͋ả̵̧͕̆̎̑̅̾́͗̉̓͝ş̴̝̝͚̺̖͓̯̬͖̹̰̪͆̔̈̒̓̀̋͒̈͛͠t̷̥̺̳̖̻̬͖̗̯͚̔̔̊͌̈́̎̅̋̅͑̊̈́̈́̒ǫ̴̨̛͖̻̬͍̙̦̉͋͒̌̃̐̿͗͒͆͘͘͝ŗ̶͇̖̜̣͎̺̻̰͈͙͉̑̀͘

B̷̗͌ȑ̸̤̖̖͋̿͑̔i̸̱̞̜̼̗̍̇̒̀́͛̕n̴̝̞͔̠̎̓̏̔̉͝g̴͖͙̠͓͎̖̿̊̅̂͛ ̶̨̝͎͕͂̐͒̊͜m̴̝̌͗̃͝e̵̛̩̬͇̰͇̾̅̀̽ ̷̡̛̪̱̯̞͚̠̈́́͂̔́̕A̵̰͌̄͝ḻ̸̫̫͛̀̈̌͋̓͝ä̸͔̭́̿ͅs̴̹͕̍͋ẗ̴̛̰̤́o̶̳̊͑͂̌̋̚͝r̴͙̪̳͐͂̈͐͘

B̷̤͖͛̑ṛ̸̬̀͗i̵̦̚n̷̻͂g̵͈͋ ̵͖̰͠m̴̖͈̆e̴̛̗ ̶͕̣̈́́Ą̶̰̑l̸͚̫͛̚a̴̢͊s̶̪̼̍̑ṱ̸̮̏̏ö̵̼́̄r̵̮̭͆

Everything . . .

. . . Everything . . . uhhhhhh . . . Everything?

What about everything?

. . . Everything starts to become fuzzy.

It starts off small, but there’s definitely something clawing its way into your body. It climbs up your skin in sweet melodies. You pull your wife to walk faster when the siren’s voice grows louder. Oh god, you never should have gone out today. It was a mistake to—

Your wife crashes into you, tackling your body aside.

A car crashes into a small shop, exploding on impact. The heat from the fire trails up your skin, and the deafening sound rings across your ear. Yet . . . you can still hear the song of the sire, echoing in your mind.

Your wife pulls you up, dragging you across the streets as chaos itself descends on the streets.

Sinners were attacking each other, ripping limb after limb after limb. A mob of them enter into shops, pulling anyone they could get their hands on to the streets. It’s madness. It’s in the way fire crackles from the burning door of the bakery. It’s in the way the cars blare their alarms for everyone to hear.

Despite the chaos, only one thing rings across clearly . . .

B̷̨̔̅̔̆͗̋̈́̓̒r̶̢̢̐̽͂̕͝i̸̮͖̠͙̮̩͉͐͊̄͠͝n̶̛͎̼̝̓̒̊̿͂̉̈́͠͝ǧ̴̛̘͌̄̇̑ ̴̫̺̠͊̏́́m̴͚̃̿̈̇̍͆̀̚͝͝ẹ̸̲̊̆̃͆̆̋͘͝͝ ̶̖͈̤̦̉͋͌̓̌̂̒͘͜À̸̱̼̎̂̂̈́̒͂́́̈́l̴̬̺̲̣̪̠͊͊͂̚͘͜ä̶̛̻́̏́͒͐͌̓͒͑͝s̸̢̡͇̠̎̿̔̓̎̒̀̈́̚t̴̮͓͓̫̜͚̜̱͖͚̳̔̾̆͆̓͋̄͊̉̚͝o̶̭̟̓̉̿͛̐̎̄͂̈̕͜͝r̸̢̲͋̌̐͋̿̈̽̌̍̚͜

You’re pulled into an alley, far away from prying eyes. The smell of blood and feces mixing with that distinct sulfur air, prick your nose.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Your wife demands, waving her hands around as she signs frantically. “Hey! Tell me nothing’s wrong with you.”

The words choke around your throat. That command rings across your mind. It’s getting clearer by the second.

B̵̯̰͑̓͌͂͝ŕ̵̨̠̩̣̞͛̄͊̽̈́͝i̷̢̲̠͚̥̾̇̌̎̾̀͜͝n̷̰̆͆̂̏͜ĝ̵̛̼͎͙̳͌͋͜͜ ̷̜̮̹́̈̊͘̕m̶̼̈̃̌̂̌è̴̡̮̮̰̹̮̝̀̓̌ ̶͍̈͌͌̈́̇Ą̸̻̞̋̈́͛̊̈̈͘̚͜ḷ̴͖̝̠̦̦̠̲̆̓̐́̐̕̕͠á̶͚̱͈͉̖̭̦̚s̵̡̗̯̼̣̭̈́͑ͅt̶̜͔̗̣͙͆͌̌͐̚͝ô̴̢͉̙͓̦͙͕͠ͅr̵̛͈̤̥̮̥̖͂̐̋̍͊̑̚͜ͅ

There’s no reason – absolutely, no reason – for you to slap her hand away. You know that she’s just trying to reach out, but it’s like your body surges with something, and you end up doing so. You wince a little when she looks at you, hurt all over her expression. It’s in the way she frowns at you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, quickly. Not once have you ever laid a hand on her. You promised yourself you would never do such a thing to anyone. “I don’t know what’s going on with me right now.”

She smiles . . . and then . . .

. . . Wait. She smiles, and then –

And then what?

Absolutely everything and nothing, all at the same time.

B̴̪̲̟̥͊̈́͝r̸̹͖̱͙̎̇̕͘i̶̡̥͌͜n̶͓̖̠͚͂̀̆ğ̷͕̾̂͗̀ ̸̲̹̯͕̰̱͆͊͋̏ṁ̷̱̦̼͉͊̚e̴̡͉̤̭̾̃̽̇̍̕͝͝ ̷̧̤̖̠̘͚͝Ă̴̮̮͇̹l̵̳̲͈͎̠̱̗͈̊å̸̞͕̓̈́̑̽̅̋̕s̶̙̆̈́̍̀̐t̵͍̲͈̬̲̟̖̭̄͌̓́́̒̑ò̸͎̲͐̃͑͘͘r̵̢̼͉͊͛͂̂̽͗͝

B̴̠͒r̸͙͑ï̶͇ṅ̷̟g̴̬̀ ̶̦̋m̸̲͝ë̶̗́ ̴̲̄Ȧ̴͔l̴̖̚ȁ̶̢š̴͙t̴̰̐o̴͙̐r̷̲͆

B̶r̷i̷n̴g̴ ̷m̶e̷ ̷A̷l̴a̴s̷t̶o̸r̷

Bring me Alastor.

It tastes like a wildfire, raw and consumes everything in its path, but this isn’t your own. These emotions that bite down on you are not yours. Still, they trace a path up your skin with their fiery claws, sinking itself into your very being.

You pull back from your wife, stepping away to clutch your head. It’s echoing so clearly in your mind now.

Bring me Alastor.

Bring me Alastor.

Bring me Alastor.

Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor.

Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor.

Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor. Bring me Alastor.

The command echoes itself in your brain, refusing to be denied. It consumes you, pulling you down into its fiery sea of . . .fury?

Yes.

No.

Despite the maddening wrath, there’s sorrow that traces every command, every line, every word. It’s carefully hidden underneath the wildfire, but it’s unmistakably there.

Think about what you’re doing right now.

Your hands are wrapped around someone’s neck . . . but . . . the heat underneath your fingers is familiar. It reminds you of a gentle touch amidst a grumpy frown. This belongs to your wife. Why are your hands around her neck? You belonged in hell for a reason, but your wife is your heaven. She’s the only good thing in a life that’s filled with shit.

The song refuses to release its enchantment. You’re fully aware of what you could not control. Everything is so vivid now – the heat of her skin, the trembling of her body. It’s all so clear to you.

Bring me Alastor.

Bring me Alastor.

Bring me Alastor.

“I’m sorry . . .,” you say, managing to choke out the words. “I can’t stop.”

Chaos burns the streets with its wrath, yet your wife stares into your eyes and your eyes alone. It’s impossible to look away.

Anger.

Confusion.

Then the worst of them all . . . understanding.

She reaches up, even as she struggles to breathe because of your actions, and wipes a single tear dripping down your cheek.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please! I’m so . . . sorry. Stop me. Someone, please, stop me.,” you say, as more tears drip down your eyes, and land on her face. “Who is Alastor? I don’t know who he is.”

Like all things, that burning anger eventually dims down, and all that’s left is charred sorrow. So much sorrow. It crashes down on you like waves. It’s so different from the wildfire, but it consumes you anyway, dragging you into its depths. The tears roll down your face, and some of these don’t belong to you. You cry, and you cry, and you cry for the sorrow that does not belong to you.

It’s madness.

It’s insanity.

It’s . . . love.

As you gaze into the dimming light of your wife’s eyes . . . you know that it’s love that fuels the siren’s song, and all that love gathers into the corner of your eyes, and drips onto the cheeks of your own fading love.

Bring . . . me . . . Alastor . . .please.

ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ

Mina stares at Alastor.

Alastor stares right back at her.

His smile hangs open, eyes wide and frozen like a literal deer in headlights. Even his hears are pointed straight. It takes a couple of blinks before his smile closes, and now he’s just stick in his pajamas, staring at her.

“ . . .but all that way years ago,” she tells him, scratching a bit of the fur on her skin.

Alastor’s ears bend as he tilts his head. “My dear, that was only seven years ago.”

“So, practically age ago,” she grumbles, crossing her arms. There’s a smug smile on Alator’s face that she rolls her eyes at. “I wasn’t exactly in the sanest mindset.”

“What the sight you must have been. Oh, I can practically hear the insanity you left with every stomp of your feet. All that sorrow must have been delicious!” Alastor laughs at her, tears running down his eyes. “Tell it to me again. I want to hear it again, my darling wife."

“Again?” Mina pulls the blanket higher on her shoulders, grumbling into the pillow.

Alastor tugs on the blanket, leaning his full weight on her when she doesn’t relent.

“Yes, again,” he says, and the weight he presses down on her causes a little purr from her throat. “I want to her the story of how the great Mina tore down Hell’s streets to look for me. The story of why your name still echoes from the madness of the power you displayed.”

Alastor presses his lips across the spots on her fur, tracing it with light kisses.

Mina turns back to him, sighing. “As if I would ever deny you anything.”

ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ ᓚᘏᗢ

If you reached the end o this, then you really should chek out The Fire in the Sin Once again, Merry Christmas, Blue! (Please help me think of something for Inu.) Thank you for such a wonder fic and being such a wonderful friend. I've been wanting to gift this to you since the moment you released the chapter, but I've alwawys felt a bit too shy about it, but I'm less shy now. I hope if you enjoy. Also, if this is big sads, I just want to say that you were the one who said everyone started attacking each other. So, really, this sadness if from you.

[rekino2114]

Someone who cared

Eva tsunaka x gn reader

[Spoilers for p:e.g. chapter 1]

A/n:and here is the Eva fic. I hope you enjoyed cause I really loved writing it. It's the happy ending my girl deserves

You were always Eva's anchor.

Your love for her was what grounded her to reality, what allowed her to keep going on in sleepless nights spent studying, through math competition she didn't even care about and in moments where she only wanted to cry in the shower because of situations she wasn't strong enough to handle, she reminded herself that there was someone who loved her because of who she was and not what everyone else thought she was. That there was a person she could always rely on and trust no matter what happened. You made her smile, a genuine pure smile, ever since your first meeting.

When at 5 years old she looked up from her book to see a person holding an ice cream cone to her

"What?"

"It's ice cream! Oh, it's cookies and cream, if you don't like it I can go change it"

".....do we know each other?"

"No but you just looked like you needed ice cream, standing alone reading isn't that fun"

"............"

"Quick! It's gonna melt!"

"O-oh"

She closed the book and grabbed the cone, giving it a lick before looking at you sitting near her on the bench

"Is it good?"

She just nodded and you smiled at her, a smile that made her feel all weird inside

"Oh! I forgot, mom only gave me 5 dollars to buy ice cream"

You pulled out some coins from your pocket and started counting

"One, two,three fo-"

"It's enough"

"Huh?"

"The ice cream cost 2 dollars,you brought two so it's 4"

"Oh you're fast at numbers"

"It's just math, 2 x 2 is 4 simple multiplication"

".....m-multi-what?"

Your confusion made a small smile appear on her face

"Just go to pay before it melts"

"Yeah ok, by the way, what's your name?"

"Eva, Eva tsunaka"

"Oh that's such a cool name"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you evie"

"E-evie?"

"It's a nickname, a name friends call you, do you like it?"

".....so we're friends?"

"Yep,....... oh I guess I should ask you, do you wanna be friends?"

In that moment her soul itself answered and she made the second best decision she ever made in her life

"Yeah, I'd like that"

From that moment on you entered her life and changed it for the better.

It turned out you were going to attend the same elementary school, and since you were already friends, you basically always hung out. Well, it was more like you continued to be near her until she let you read with her at recess, but she wouldn't have it any other way, because whenever you were sick she could feel the difference between reading with someone and just standing under a tree while everyone else played in the grass.

".......how do you say that?"

"What?"

"This word"

You pointed at her book

"Oh its-"

"AHHHHHH!"

Your scream alerted her and she turned to towards you to see you crouching and hugging your legs while pointing at a caterpillar

"I-it's a monster"

"It's just an insect"

"B-but aren't they poisony?"

"It's poisonous and no"

Just as she was about to keep reading, she felt something grip her. Her whole face turned red as you hugged her for protection while muttering something about the monster getting closer. The weird feeling came back. It was somewhere above her tummy, and when she talked about it with her parents as they were putting her to bed, they just laughed between each other and muttered something about her first crush. Of course, at the ripe age of 7, she couldn't understand what that was.

It was some time during middle school that she began understanding her true feelings.

"You take everything that doesn't have an x in it and move it to the right. You also need to change their signs, got it?"

"..........w-what?"

"The positive become negative and the opposite"

You tried to write something before fully giving up and putting your hands over your head

"I don't get it, when did letters make their way in math?"

Your study buddy sighed and took a pen, trying to guide you step by step through the homework

"Can we take a break?"

"Not until you figure it out"

"Please, pretty please with a cherry covered in chocolate on top?"

"No"

"Come on please, we can play super slam sisters"

"Hm?"

You grab a controller and look at her with that smile, that smile that made the feeling come back to her, the feeling that she always had when she was near you, just looking at your smile made it impossible to say no

"Ugh, I guess a couple of rounds can't hurt"

"Yay you're the best evie"

You hugged her, and she felt her face flush red again

"Are you OK? You're so red"

"I-i'm fine let's just play"

"I'm gonna destroy you this time"

"We'll see about that"

You paused the game after the fifth time you lost

"So who was gonna destroy me?"

".......ok ok i admit it...you're really good at this"

Your compliment made her heart beat again, but she put the controller down and turned towards you

"Let's continue studying"

You sighed but nodded and sat in front of the desk again

"OK now do you get it?"

"....i-i think so"

You started writing the solution and Eva looked at it before her face turned into one of surprise

"That's correct good job"

"Yay! Now can we take another break, as a reward?"

"We just had one"

".....alright"

You picked up the pen again but this time started looking at the wall deep in thought

"......thank you"

"For what?"

"A lot of things to be honest, but what I'm talking about now is....helping me"

"With math?"

"Yeah among other things"

"It's nothi-"

"No it is something"

You turned to look at her, your eyes locking with her blue ones

"My parents............they can't afford a tutor, so I decided to ask you, I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm taking advantage of you, but I just really wanna be with you"

"What do you mean?"

"The high school I wanna go to, it's the same as yours"

"Huh?"

"But if I don't have good grades they won't let me in, and......math is a subject I'm not good at"

You looked silently at her before suddenly holding her hands

"I want to stay with you, you're amazing evie, you're so smart and pretty and awesome, I want you to be in my life. So I promise I'll try my best to get good grades, to be with you"

You still have no idea why you said that, and more importantly you still have no idea how your 14 year old mind still didn't understand that maybe you felt something more than friendship for the back and white haired girl. But if you could go back, you'd say the exact same thing, not only because that's exactly how you felt but also because of what happened during high school.

Eva couldn't handle it anymore, the feeling in her chest she learned to call love was growing more and more with every day you spent together, with every time she had to remind you to pay attention in class and with every afternoon spent studying and playing slam sisters. She felt like her heart could explode if she didn't do something soon.She needed to do something about it.

But what could she do? Confessing would be very risky, if you didn't feel the same, it would have genuinely destroyed her, not only because you wouldn't be dating but mostly because she knew that no matter how much you tried to fix things and play it off as if nothing happened, your friendship would have never been the same, it would have all felt so awkward and uncomfortable and it would have probably been better to just end your friendship before it became even worse.

She could not handle that. You were her best friend. Her............only friend.

But she also knew better than anyone that if she didn't confess, someone else probably would and seeing you hanging out and kissing someone else while knowing that if she had just been braver that could have been her, would have destroyed her even more.

So she decided to act on valentine's day of your second year of high school.

"So what's with the chocolates?"

Your sudden question makes Eva spit her water

"W-what are you talking about?"

You pulled out the chocolate box with the letter inside

"Only you would do something like this"

You showed her the note which simply said "128√e980"

You unfolded the letter showing that the equation spelled "I love you"

"The chocolate are also my favorite flavors, but the note is the obvious part"

".........I know it's stupid but-"

"It's not stupid, it's pretty cool actually, even if it did take me a while to understand eheh"

Eva looked away embarrassed but quickly grew even more flustered when you held her hands

"But I want you to tell me that you love me"

"I-i just did-"

"No, I want Eva tsunaka to tell me that she loves me, not the mathlete that everyone thinks you are, tell me with your own words, the ones from the bottom of your heart, not numbers. then I can accept"

Eva started sweating, for what reason she doesn't know, maybe her cheeks got so hot that they actually started burning, but she calmed herself and took a deep breath before speaking

"Y-you make my heart beat, I feel all weird when I'm with you, I just want to smile and hug you for no reason, ever since we were kids, I now know what that is, I love you, I can 100% say I love you"

You smiled brightly, and she couldn't help but smile too. You always had this effect on her. She just couldn't help but feel happy with you.

"I love you too, evie, you're the best girl I ever met, and I wanna be with you forever"

You suddenly kissed her, it was a very soft and short kiss, but it still succeeded in making her blush even more than anything that happened before, but still she wanted to feel like this more so she kissed back. And with that she officially became your girlfriend.

She can confidently say that confessing to you was the best decision she ever made. Simply because the years where you two were together were the best of her life.

It was the small things you did for her, those things that made her feel seen and special, something like buying her something for breakfast when she didn't have to eat because she was busy studying, or just listening to her rant about a new ARG she helped solve on the internet.

Even the more embarrassing things like showing up to one of her math competition with a whole banner with a bad but admittedly really cute drawing of her face and her name written with a heart while yelling:

"YEAHHHH! THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND EVERYONE! SHE'S SUPER SMART, DESTROY EVERYONE ELSE EVIE!!!"

Sure, it made her want to die in the moment, but she would definitely be lying if she said it didn't warm her heart knowing that you cared so much about her and about her winning a competition even she didn't really care about

Just like your reaction to her getting her ultimate warmed her heart.

She hated being the ultimate mathlete. The utp just gave her this title without regard to who she really was and who she wanted to be, and she ranted to you about exactly that while cuddling. You just wrapped your arms around her and started comforting her

"Listen, I don't care what others say about you, or what they expect of you, to me you're Eva tsunaka, the amazing girl that i feel in love with, I couldn't care less about your ultimate,that doesn't define you to me and it shouldn't to anyone else. I love you because you're you ok evie?"

She felt her heart beating even faster than when you kissed her. Your words made her feel understood and so, so loved. She really needed someone like you

While she hated her talent, she couldn't deny that the fact that she was glad to have it if only because the utp gave you one too, and you would be attending eden's garden academy together.

"Are you OK evie? You look nervous"

She took a deep breath and sat on the bench in the train station

"......yeah, I guess I'm just worried about what people are gonna think about me"

"You mean your talent?"

She nodded as you sat on her right and held her hand

"If people pick on you because you're good at math, then that just means they're stupid and can't handle that someone is prettier and smarter than them"

"Hehe......thanks, but that's now what I meant"

"I know......then just get to know them"

"Huh?"

"If you get to know more people than they'll know the real you, the amazing girl you really are"

"............"

"Eva listen, I'm saying this as your partner and with nothing but your best interests in mind. I think you need more friends"

".....d-don't-"

"Or at least people to talk to, I know you have me, but I'm scared that I'm not enough, I want you to be happy, ok? So please, at least try, I don't care if you fail, but at least try to let people know that you're not just a mathlete, but a genuinely wonderful person"

Eva sighed and you kissed her cheek for comfort

"........I'll try my best"

"That's what I like to hear. Now get up and grab your luggage the train is almost here"

After the train arrived, you walked in it hand in hand, seeing all the faces of your future classmates. Little did you know that that train was gonna be the boat that would bring you to hell.

You knew Eva was lying about her talent. You knew from the moment the words ultimate liar slipped from her mouth, and you also knew exactly the reason why, she had told you why not that long ago after all. And you respected her choice. You didn't even need to talk to each other to make an agreement, with only a single glance she knew you would protect her secret as long as necessary.

The announcement of the killing game and the mock trial felt like a blur, you helped investigate, mostly convinced by your girlfriend, but you still couldn't believe it, sure the body was just a puppet but it was the recreation of a real murder, someone was killed so brutally, it made you.....sick.

And when the killing game was officially started that sickness spread over your entire body, will someone of your classmates be killed in such a brutal way? Will you? ......will Eva?

When Wolfgang started to speak, you wanted to say something. Sure, it was nice to think that no one was going to murder each other, but you knew it was impossible. You only started to talk when everyone singled out Eva and Damon for speaking their mind. You defended them, obviously. You told them that Eva was right, and even if it was a harsh truth, it still was the truth. After being judged because of that you just hugged Eva and you two went to sleep in her dorm.

The day the infirmary was revealed, Eva's true ultimate was too. You couldn't do anything but the exact same thing you had been doing this entire time, comfort Eva and try to counter your classmates' comments directed at her. You hugged her again, and you could feel how heavy and tired she was, even if she didn't want to let you know, everything that happened was weighing heavily in her mind.

"C-can you come with me?"

"Huh?"

You opened your eyes and looked down at Eva. She was still hugging you, but her eyes were now locked on yours

"Sure"

She guided you to a point in the infirmary and pointed at something

"A......plushie advertisement?"

"Yes, I already showed it to damon"

"......d-do you want me to buy it?"

"H-huh?"

"I thought you already had a plush-"

She blushed and quickly shut you up

"N-no it's not the plushie, it's a code"

"Oh for the door?"

"Duh"

"Did you figure it out yet?"

"...........no"

For the second time in the game, she lied

"Oh, I see, it's alright if you don't, these kidnappers seem really smart"

"........yeah"

"Well, me and Diana wanted to eat together. Do you wanna join us?"

"No it's fine, I'll go take a nap"

"That's understandable after everything that happened, love you"

"Yeah"

You kissed her cheek and started to go outside but stopped and looked back

"Hey Eva?"

"Hm"

"Can I.....tell you something?"

She nodded and you started approaching her

"..........I'm scared"

"Huh?"

"I'm scared that I'll die, that you'll die and that I couldn't do anything about it.....so can you at least promise me something?"

".......o-of course, what is it?"

You put your pinky in the air

"Let's make it a pinky promise"

"......seriously?" That's so dumb"

"Come on, just do it"

She sighed and intertwined her own pinky with yours

"Let's promise each other that we'll never kill someone"

"W-what?"

"I can't do anything if someone decides to kill you, I can only hope no one does, but if you kill someone, then you'll most likely die..........and if you don't-"

"Then you'll die, with everyone else"

"Yeah, so let's promise that we'll never kill anyone, so our chances of survival increase"

The next words she said were the third best choice she did in her life because, like her confession and acceptance of your friendship, her own soul spoke unfiltered by her brain or other emotions

"..........yes, I promise"

"Great! It's a pinky promise, remember. So if you break it your pinki will fall"

She giggled

"I think that will be the last of my concerns if I kill someone"

"Hehe, Yeah I guess you're right"

You kissed Eva on the cheek and went outside, waving at her. She waved back as her smile faded, she looked at her pinky.... and went to her dorm.

She couldn't handle it anymore, the thoughts were eating up her mind, she was going to die, everyone hated her, of course she was going to be the first victim, she would die.......so she needed to do something about it.

She wiped her tears with her sleeve and put her glasses back on, went to the infirmary and found herself face to face with the door.

She imputed the first two numbers automatically almost as if her body moved itself, she was about to imput the third when she actually started thinking

What did she want to gain by going in that room? She didn't even know what was on the other side..........was she just curious?

No, she knew. She knew that whatever she was gonna find would seal her fate, that it would force her to kill someone.......force

It's funny that she used that words in her thoughts, force, like she didn't already knew who to kill and how to do it, like she didn't already know who to frame and how to act in the class trial, like she didn't already look through the infirmary to see if there were hallucinogenics.

She inputted the third number and took a moment to breathe, her hand on her chest.

When she was about to move her finger in the direction of the last panel, she noticed something.

The floor was wet.

She looked down and saw that her shirt was too, not by much, it was when she brushed her hand against her cheek that she realized where the water was coming from.

She was crying.

How did she not realize it all this time? Why was she sad? She had already decided her fate, was she scared of getting found out and dying? she had nothing to live for anyway, everyone in this damn academy hated her, she was going to die anyway and no one was going to care about it, they weren't going to investigate how she died and the person who killed her would probably be cheered as they got executed. There was no one who cared about her, just like in her entire life.......no one cared about the true her.

Her finger grazed the fourth number when she remembered something

"Let's promise that we'll never kill someone"

"I love you because you're you ok evie?"

As soon as those words entered her mind, she just fell down on her knees, her body unable to hold the weight of her conscience anymore. She started crying, this time knowing exactly why.

She was going to betray you. She was willing to let you die just because of something that wasn't even true. You cared about her, the real her, you would have cried if she died, and you would have felt betrayed if she killed someone. You loved her, and she betrayed that love by even thinking about committing the murder. She didn't deserve you, she needed to say sorry to your face.

When she finished crying, she immediately went to your dorm, the knocking woke you up, and you were confused to see that Eva was no longer in bed with you. You were worried, considering that you decided to bunk together, so you carefully opened part of the door and saw it was your girlfriend, you saw that her eyes were red so your worry grew even more, you completely opened the door and Eva immediately tackled you in a hug.

"E-eva, what's-"

"I'm *sobs* so sorry, I'm so so sorry"

You could see she started crying crying, so you held her close and started comforting her, not caring about the tears getting on your shirt.

When she calmed down, she sat on the bed and started explaining everything to you, about how everything was getting to her and drove her to think about killing someone. She expected you to hate her. She was one step away from betraying you and throwing away her life, you were very justified to hate her, to break up with her, as much as she didn't want that to happen.....because then she would have been truly alone.

But you hugged her instead, and told her that it was OK, that the fact that she didn't go through was what mattered, that you would always be there for her, no matter what happened

"N-no you- you don't understand!"

She continued sobbing between words

"I-I was about to kill someone, to break our promise! I was ready to throw away your life because of this game!"

"......................"

"W-why did you forgive me so fast!? Why don't you hate me!?"

"........I could never hate you"

"H-huh?"

"I love you Eva I love you so much, I already told you so many times, I know that in a normal situation you'd never do something like this, I don't hate you, I hate tozu and this game, because I've seen the real you, and the real Eva is a girl that would never commit a murder, I feel in love with you and I could never hate you. I love you Eva, please remember that"

Eva wanted to say something more, but she just felt so tired. She had cried and felt too many emotions for a day, so she just thanked you and held onto your body as you two drifted to sleep.

The next day, she woke up feeling better. The night spent thinking about the situation and waking up next to you made her realize how lucky she was to have you and that she should hold on to you and love you just as much as you did.

After talking it over and getting ready, you two went to the dining room where Cassidy told you she had found a copy of super slam sisters and asked you to participate in a tournament.

"Oh, you love that game, eva . Do you wanna participate together?"

"I.........."

She looked at you smiling so brightly at her........and smiled back

"Yeah, I think having fun is what I need"

"Great! So we have all the couples, get ready cause it will be a blast!"

When the game tournament started, you held Eva's hand as you two watched the other students play.

"OK now it's Eva's and y/n's turn"

"Get ready evie, because this time I'll win!"

She rolled her eyes as she took the controller

"You always say that"

She ended up winning very easily but offered you a kiss as a consolation prince

"Wow that was insane Eva, how did you do that?"

"Oh, it's not that hard. You just have to watch your opponent and move accordingly"

"You gotta teach me that, you might even be able to beat me! Let's train together sometimes, Please?"

"H-huh?"

"And then we could do your make-up, I wanted to hang out with you......i-if you'd like"

"I.....don't think I'd look good with make-up"

She felt you putting your arm on her shoulder

"I think you'd look amazing in any way"

You smiled again and she felt her heart getting warm, not just at you but at the situation in general, she felt seen and understood, and it was all thanks to you, she's so glad she remembered you yesterday.

She looked back at her pinky and then at you, suddenly you felt Eva's arms wrap around you to the surprise of everyone in the room. She simply murmured two words

"Thank you"

You knew exactly why she thanked you, so you just hugged her back until she pulled away and looked at you again.

You cared about her, the real her, you loved her despite everything and she could never imagine a world without you, she could never imagine what she would have done if you weren't there, if you didn't enter her life.

She was so, so glad to have you.

[lachatalovematcha]

You are one of my biggest inspirations I never copied your blog I just got inspired I even left your name as inspiration in my biography I started making edits then some people started reposting my edits without credit writing exactly what I had written I told them to stop it because it was a very ugly thing to do to someoneone of them's response was "FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION, I pay to use Tumblr so I post what I want"I blocked them, the others still haven't responded to meI'm upset because copying and inspiration are very different things What I feel about your blog is a lot of admiration, I would never copy someone like that I really don't know how you can handle so many things like this because I can't handle it I will stop using tumblr once and for all people think they can publish whatever they want just because they feel like it It was a pleasure to discover your blog, I really love your blog and your way of responding to people I'm going to stop using social media for a while goodbye 💗

my heart stopped beating for a few seconds I was very sad about this ask copy and admiration has no comparison I've been through this countless times , there's no point in talking, cursing, blocking, ignoring when the person has bad intentions, they won't stop this made me stop using pinterest, although I found my entire blog

reposted without credits and some people copying my entire post and using names similar to mine, this really isn't inspiration I ignore

most of them because people like that don't make sense to talk, they think they are in charge on social media they will never understand what it is like to make a beautiful and time-consuming edit with care If you don't want to put credits in the post simply talk to the owner of the post, it's so simple honestly, don't go away and

try to have more conversations with these people if they are rude to you because of AN EDIT YOU MADE, block them and ignore

The most annoying thing is for you to leave, I don't know what your blog is, but please stay, I know how boring it all is, but just hang in there because it's not fair for you to go, some people can be understanding if you talk calmly to them there are a lot of cool people on tumblr stay here and tell me your username and do like me just ignore people with bad intentions

🍮🎀⭐️涙もあっていいけど🍮🎀⭐️