#wasn’t sure where to put it in the main section

[sylver-drawer]

I want to remind everyone that Jennette and Ijekiel’s relationship in the novel never improves. Ijekiel may have ‘moved on’, but it wasn’t really of his own accord—it’s because Athy literally encouraged him to go with Jennette (which I’ve already mentioned whose encouragement stems from her rose-tinted glasses of dehumanizing both Ijekiel and Jennette). Jennette, whose feelings and psyche we’ve delved into multiple times throughout the novel, hates Ijekiel’s falsity the most. She may be afraid of his anger and frustration, but that’s because it would be so foreign to her—but at the same time, it would be relief because at the very least it means it’s Ijekiel finally laying his feelings bare to her. But Ijekiel made it clear to her during his rejection that he has no intention to ever be genuine to her—that he will keep up his mask, monitor his emotions closely while still spitting out cruel words as if he were angry, though he dare not present so. That’s what scares her most, and what she despises terribly.

So the novel ends with Jennette exiled to outside of Obelia, waking up after attempting to off herself with her magic, alone with the man who just conveyed to her that he will never be genuine or truthful with her. In Ijekiel’s side, the woman he loved just told him to go with Jennette—who he has SO much unpacked baggage with already, being that he never saw or acknowledged Jennette as a woman (not romantically, I’m saying he constantly views her as a child despite her being an adult and having multiple enigmas, personal conflict, and growth through the years), still and will always view her as someone who will chase after him and ignore his feelings or opinions (which stems from an image he himself wanted to uphold, Jennette always wanted him to give his true opinions and gave him PLENTY of times to reject her and her requests), and overall just has so much pent up feelings and resentment for Jennette for little things throughout his childhood that’s too much to resolve without a proper heart-to-heart with Jennette—which he already resolved to never doing.

Which ends the novel with both of them at basically their most uncomfortable, stuck with the person they very much never want to be around. It’s hell. It’s gonna be hell. They’re practically strangers—people who’ve been around each other for nearly two decades, but don’t know the first thing about the other. And now it’s extremely awkward because of their fight, and the line Ijekiel drew that because of Jennette’s extremely fragile mental state, will force Ijekiel to have to be the first one to reach out. And he won’t. Because he’s not used to reaching out, especially to Jennette of all people (as Jennette’s always been the one to try and reach out, and he’s always been the one to put up a mask and comply even if he truly wishes not to).

And we know this is true, because Athy and Lucas literally talk about it at the end of the LP sidestories. After Athy comes back from her LP adventure, she decides to take a trip and visit Jennette and Ijekiel—and Lucas states something along the lines of how they don’t even meet eachother’s eyes (Athy takes it as both of them not dating, which I’m completely confused about, and chalk it up to Plutus forcing a pairing somewhat, as when we last saw them they couldn’t even be called friends). When Athy and Jennette exchange letters, there is no mention of Jennette and Ijekiel’s relationship. Athy even remarks that, before Jennette started exchanging letters, her letters with Ijekiel were mostly of Jennette’s condition because (she) was worried about her (not that Ijekiel talks about Jennette on his own, Athy has to inquire about Jennette—which was also what Ijekiel was jealous of right before his rejection of Jennette, that Athy only seemed to love and ask about Jennette in his presence). Nothing has improved since the official end of the novel, and it’s the last we see of them, and I honestly don’t really have much faith that it’ll improve anytime soon. At least, not without Athy’s intervention, but that would require more of Athy’s own growth.

[rhyrhy]

Kiss the chef

[warnings]: chef! Abby, unserious, suggestive mentions, headcannons, wc 1k , part 2

Chef! Abby’s! first viral video was around a year ago. A simple clip of her making cacio e pepe. The video was beautifully shot, a warm coloring complementing the glossy dish. but what really got everyone’s attention?

The way her forearms tensed while she cracked fresh pepper. Veins showing themselves along her freckled skin. Comments often reading:

@ “ok but how do i get the pasta to look this good?”

@ “i have something to say but i want to go to college”

@ “ma’am, i’m trying to focus but your ARMS?????😣”

@ “looks SO good💕..and the food i guess”

Chef Abby! had always loved cooking, growing up in a kitchen with her dad, who ran The Cordova, one of downtown Washington’s finest restaurants. But she liked the no pressure vibe of TikTok—just her and her food. She decided she wouldn’t show her face much, if at all. Letting the small flex of her muscles when she kneaded dough into a floured surface be the main visual. While comments? They were only half focused on what she was making.

Naturally, her account gained traction. No face, no voice—just hands, muscles, and literal food porn. Every video felt like a Sunday afternoon in a kitchen. @buffandbasil, now sat at 2.5 million followers.

Chef Abby! tried to ignore the thirst in her comments. How could she? It was honestly a small ego boost, even if it was a bit over the top at times. Like the second pinned video on the top of her page—where all she was doing was making bread.

@ : “knead ME like that.”

@ : “both lips are smiling rn”

@: “need her to bake something in me, respectfully😇“

@: “we need to chill in the comments… *saves video*”

Chef Abby! wasn’t a huge fan of putting her face in her videos. However, the occasional face slip would happen. A quick shot of her golden hair in view or a reflection in a clean pan.

The third and final pinned video? The one sitting at a few million views and a comment section that out-ratioed it?

Her hair draped over a fitted black Henley shirt, the top button undone. Sleeves rolled up to her elbows. And when she reached up for something overhead in a cabinet? A small sliver of her torso—those abs?

Yeah. They lost it.

@ “niagara falls just relocated”

@ “MY CLOTHES, WHERE’D THEY GO!!?!”

@ “her strap drags, for sure. touches the floor.”

@^ “mind you, i would take it.😊”

@ ^^ “y’all are TOO freaked out 💀”

And trust—Chef Abby! loved it. Really. Laying in bed, straight cackling on FaceTime with her best friend Manny, sending him screenshots or full-blown screen sharing. She didn’t reply. Not really. But she absolutely posted a few videos after. No shirt, just her “Kiss the Chef” apron and vibes.

And the one time she did reply?

@: “Do you do weddings?”

@buffandbasil :“Yes, actually.”

Harmless, right? Simple. Straightforward. She had catered weddings before. Large events, alongside her father, but—

@: “As… the bride?”

She saw it exactly three minutes after posting her reply. And in those three minutes, her comment had already tripled in likes. The replies? A war zone.

@ “ANSWER THE QUESTION!”

@ “HELLO???????”

@ “bro air balled.”

@ “ok so u free next saturday or???”

She paid it no mind. Mostly. But sometimes, a few profiles caught her attention. She was human, after all. Chef Abby! had seen your likes. You didn’t know it yet.

For you? It was originally just another cringe or brain rot video being sent by your roommate, Dina. But when you clicked the video of @buffandbasil all laughter halted. Typing back—

You: “Dee, hear me out..😭”

Dina: “Oh my god. OH MY GOD. Lost the plot.”

Chef Abby! considered reciprocating the engagement but saw how many views you usually received on GRWMs and storytimes and decided on a more… exciting approach. Wanting to see if you’d bite.

No aesthetic instrumentals—this time, a voiceover. Her voice, soft, steady Tutorial style.

“So today, we’re making sourdough from scratch. You wanna make sure your starter is active, and then we’re gonna knead it—”

@: “OH SHE TALKS???”

@: “it’s all over the screen ngl 🌊”

@: “asmr videos when?”

@: “great now i have a crush on a faceless chef, thanks.”

@: “I’m ovulating rn please chill 💔💔”

But the only comment she was looking for? Yours.

@ you: “Me next🫦!”

You typed it. And went to bed. She had so many comments—she probably wouldn’t even see it.

But as the sun poured through your curtains the next morning, your stomach flipped. A notification.

Followed by @buffandbasil. 2 hours ago.

Legs swinging the blankets off, then you were sprinting down the hall, launching yourself onto Dina’s bed like a feral animal let loose.

She groaned, blindly swatting at you. “Dude, what the—”

Without another word, you shoved your phone in her face. Dina squinted, blinked a few times, then—loud, cackling.

“Dee. This isn’t a ‘hear me out’ anymore—this is a hold me back.” You said, falling next to her dramatically, smiling.

Dina wheezed, shaking her head. “Nah. You are in the sunken place now, sister.”

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMIDNIGHT COMPANY * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　while filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.

She really didn't.

She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.

But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.

"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."

Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.

"Okay."

They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.

He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.

He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.

"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.

Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.

"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.

"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.

They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.

"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.

"I-I think so."

Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.

"You’re not even paying attention."

"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."

"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.

Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.

As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.

Crash!

The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.

She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."

But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.

She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.

A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.

Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.

"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.

"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.

"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Now, get up."

She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."

The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.

"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.

"But-"

"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.

Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.

When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.

　　　　　༻���﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.

"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."

Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.

"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.

Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.

As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.

Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.

"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.

"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."

Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.

"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.

Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.

"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"

The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.

"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.

"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.

Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"

The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.

Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.

"This guy’s a piece of-"

"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.

"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.

"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.

"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.

"I wasn’t-"

"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"

Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.

"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."

"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.

"Do we step in?"

"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.

"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.

"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.

Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.

"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.

She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.

"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."

Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.

"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."

"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.

Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.

"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"

"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.

But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.

He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.

"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.

He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.

"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."

She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.

Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.

"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.

She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.

"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.

"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.

Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."

She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.

"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.

"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."

She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.

Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I don’t think you are."

"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.

Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.

"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."

She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.

"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."

Chris’s heart sank at her words.

"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."

Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.

"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."

"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."

Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.

"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.

"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.

Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.

"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.

"You don’t know anything about me."

Chris held up his hands.

"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."

She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.

"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."

Chris watched her for a second too long.

"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."

"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"

Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.

"No! No, I can’t call anyone."

"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."

"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."

Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Please, I’m just trying to-"

"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.

"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."

"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."

She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.

"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"

Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.

"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."

Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.

"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."

"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."

Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.

"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.

"Why do you care so much?"

Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.

"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."

She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.

"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t even know what I’d do."

Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.

"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."

She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.

"Okay." She said.

Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.

"Okay." He echoed.

For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.

He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.

"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."

Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.

Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."

That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.

"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."

Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.

"What are they like?"

Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.

"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."

This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.

"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.

"Must be nice." She murmured.

Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."

Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.

"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."

She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"

"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."

Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.

"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."

Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.

"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."

She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.

"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.

Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."

Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.

Chris gave her a warm smile.

"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."

Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.

© vanteguccir

[dreaisgrayte]

Camp Maple | Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, kissing, friends to grudge to friends to sassy to lovers? childhood trauma, masturbation (fem and male), tad bit of angst, unprotected sex, cream pie, more to come? Honestly the ending could do with a rewrite but I'm too lazy for that right now.

word count: 17.5k

a/n: writers block sucks so I'm sorry if the end is trash. I wanted to get this out before school started up again. Unedited.

It’s fucking summer again. That meant working for your mother’s sleepaway camp. Maple Woods was a fun enough place to work when your mother wasn’t visiting, but if you had to work with that asshole again you highly doubt this would be the best summer ever that your mother promised you. At least last year he wasn’t scheduled to be a leader with you.

The main office is where you would grab your schedule and overall camp theme for this summer. It’s also where you could check what group you were head of. Luckily, the office building was right off the parking lot. The mess hall was a few yards down a worn rock pathway from the old brick building you were heading into. 

The yellow screen door swings open with a screech, and you’re met with the steady whir of box fans pointed at the one lady you enjoyed seeing every year. Her straight blonde hair flutters in the heavy breeze as she looks up from her monitor. Once her caramel brown eyes settle on you, a sugary sweet smile overtakes her features. “YN!” She exclaims, standing from behind the counter. “I’m so glad you decided to come back, sweetie.” She extends her arms, walking out toward you. This is your aunt, Yena. She practically helped raise you when your mother would drop you off. Your childhood home was a 10 minute drive away, and where you lived now was around 15 minutes, depending on how long you procrastinated in traffic in an attempt to prolong accidentally running into your mother. Yena made sure your group of friends had snacks and unlimited access to her office. She was there when you had your first period. In other words, Yena was like a mother to you, at least more than your actual biological one. 

You embrace each other, and the overwhelming smell of cinnamon hits your nose like a tidal wave. It was like home in a hug. “Like I had a choice.” You mumble but laugh with her after a beat. This felt nice, but you needed to settle in before the rest of the counselors flooded in and started the pre-camp party. “Ah, do you happen to know which cabin group I’ll be in charge of?” You inquire, holding her back from you. 

Her brows crease with thought, and then she looks excited, holding up a finger to tap your nose. “Ah my little honeysuckle, you are co-leading the caterpillars.” She hums in delight. You tilt your head. Co-leading? 

“Co-leading? With whom?” Your chest feels heavy. Last year, your co-leader was a slacker, leaving you with all the work and little time for yourself. Your group of kids were absolute sweethearts, so you didn’t mind too much. Still, the experience had put a bad taste in your mouth. Yena’s back to concentrating on your question, but this time, she shakes her head with a slight frown. 

“I’m sorry dear, I don’t remember. Though, I do remember thinking that you two are sure to make a good pair!” She clasps your hands excitedly at the latter part of her sentence. You force yourself to smile through the anxiety. 

“Heh, yeah.” In translation, you were screaming internally. “I’ll go figure it out.” The only thing you could do was head to your cabin and hope to bump into your co-lead. Maple Woods usually had 2 young adults co-lead a group of kids to keep things safe. The co-leads shared the head cabin, no matter what. It was the first cabin in a ring of 4 other ones. The campers were divided by age – that’s where the different sections came from – then put into co-ed cabins. One cabin could fit about 8 comfortably, depending on how many kids signed up. The caterpillars are the 2nd and 3rd grader sections. The co-leader cabin was bigger, but that’s only because of the shared bathroom and small kitchen area. 

The air smells fresh, and you get lost in memories for a moment. There was the main hall where the welcoming ceremony would be held, and a cement path through a small patch of trees off to the side led to the different sections of cabins. On the other side of the path, surrounded by a small patch of trees, was the mess hall where meals and activities would be held. The older kids had cabins further into the woods while your section of cabins was situated right by the lake. Down the middle, past the mess hall and cabins, was the maple woods lake. The sunlight is glittering off the ripples already. Peace. That’s what the lake reminded you of. Up a trail on the north side, there was even a secluded waterfall, but the kids didn’t get to know about that part. 

You walk down the cracked cement walkway, puttering around with a rock as you go. The green doors are easy enough to spot against the orangey light wood of the cabins. You were lucky. You got the cabins right by the lakefront. You hike up the stairs, noting a suitcase outside the left door. Okay, so someone was here. That was a good sign. Walking through the right door it hits you that you didn’t grab any of your bags from the car. You stop in the middle of the room, groaning loudly. “Shit.” You curse, turning on your heel. It takes about 10 minutes for you to clamber back into the room this time with your bags haphazardly strapped across your body. They slip off your body with no regard for your hair or your skin. 

The room is simple, a bed in the corner, a closet, a desk, and a nightstand with a cute lamp on it. To the left are two doors, one leads to the kitchenette area – the other leads to the Jack and Jill bathroom, in which you can hear rushing water. Your co-leader must be taking a preemptive shower. You give an approving nod, wishing you could take a shower yourself. Instead, you decide to wander through the far door and into the kitchenette area. There’s a round table with a chair on either side of it pushed under a window. A small amount of counter space – treated pine countertops – decked out with a stove, sink, and a few cabinets. A fridge acted as the counter stopper, which was right next to your room – hmm, useful. Across from the kitchen area was a single sofa with a TV mounted on the wall. You always loved the counselors’ cabins because they were full of useful amenities. 

You pull out a chair, sitting down at the table to peer out the window at Lake Maple. You hear a door open and turn your attention toward the sound with a cheerful smile. You had the full intention of greeting your co-leader. Instead, you’re met with the bare chest of a silver-haired and lilac-eyed asshole. A simple cotton towel is wrapped around his waist, water droplets still lazily pathing their way down his sinewy chest and past the line of the before-mentioned towel. Your brows knit together, and he does the same. “Sanemi,” you grumble, forcing a smile upon your lips. “Please tell me you’re a figment of my imagination.” This cannot be happening. Sanemi Shinazugawa can not be your co-leader. 

When you met him for the first time both of you had bonded over having a shit parent. His father was abusive, scarring his son emotionally and physically. Despite the jagged pink scar that travels over the bridge of his nose and three crossing over each other on his forehead, Sanemi was excessively attractive. He wore his scars as a badge of what he’d overcome, but you knew there was underlying disgust that was hidden away.

He rolls his eyes, frustratedly peering to the corner of the room. “Believe me darlin’ I’m just as annoyed by this as you are.” Heat floods your cheeks at his casual way of speaking. You cross your arms over your chest, standing up from your chair with dramatic grandeur. 

His eyes follow your actions, concentrating on the way you nearly stumble to the side. He quirks a smile and this only fuels your annoyance, which was amusing in its own right. “There has to be a way we can switch out,” You throw your hands up, exasperated. Sanemi shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. 

He then jerks his head toward the general direction of the main office. “Already checked with Yena, they don’t trust anyone else but you’n me to run the caterpillar crew.” He explains, disdain practically dripping from his voice. You groan toward the ceiling. 

Of course, your mother would pull some shit like this. Making you work with the one person that could make you falter at your job. Was this a test? It was sure as hell annoying especially with Sanemi standing half-naked in front of you. “For fuck’s sake can you please go put on a shirt or something?” You pinch the bridge of your nose squeezing your eyes shut. 

Your words only earn a dark chuckle from the man across from you. “Why? I thought I could wear this to the bonfire.” He shoots back smugly. 

A long sigh blows past your lips as you decide not to honor him with a response. Instead, you head back into your room and slam the door. You fuss around with your hair, unpacking while you search for an outfit. Sanemi was so aggravating. With that smug look on his face and- you throw your hands down in frustration, frowning into the handheld mirror you propped against the wall. Sun earrings dangle from your ears, a simple gold chain around your throat, and mascara lifts your lashes. You put on high-waisted jean shorts and a pink bleach-washed tye-dye tank. Tennis shoes and white socks wrap it together. 

Your heart hammers an overwhelming rhythm as you blow out a breath. Sanemi Shinazugawa was sleeping in the same cabin as you, sharing food, time, and a bathroom. You had to get over this stupid grudge against him. It wasn’t healthy to latch onto something so silly for such a long time, but back then it hurt like hell. For the children, you had to put your past behind you. Maybe if you got drunk enough tonight you could talk to him about it, but those odds were very unlikely.  

There were a few people you wanted to chat with at the bonfire, have a few drinks, and then you’d be nicely tucked into bed ready for campers to start arriving tomorrow. Simple as that. A grin makes its way onto your face as you slip out of your cabin, but it quickly drops when you notice Sanemi leaning against the deck railing. You try not to sigh too loud, but he must hear it because he quirks a brow in your direction. “Why are you creepily waiting outside my door?” You inquire, gesturing to him. He huffs out a breath, stepping out of his leaning position. 

He’s wearing a black hoodie with shorts. You’re mildly upset by how good he looks in darker clothes. It contrasts his hair in such a way that captivates you. You shake those thoughts out of your head as he trots down the stairs, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I can’t very well leave you to walk to the spot by yourself.” He nods in the direction of the dark path that winds through the woods and up the rocky ledges. 

You raise your brows, joining him on the ground. “You think I can’t handle a little spooky path on my own?” You scoff. Sanemi rolls his eyes and the action pricks your skin. 

He starts walking toward the path’s entrance and when you don’t follow he gives you a pointed look. “Shall I remind you of when we were seven?” 

“Sanemi hold my hand! I’m scared!” You whine, grasping his hands when he doesn’t make a move. “Promise me you won’t leave my side!” 

You whinge, shuddering at the memory, but jog to catch up with him anyway. He turns his head to watch the path become progressively darker, a few lamps hung on trees here and there. A grin finds its way onto his lips at the way you walk closer to him every time you hear a noise. “For a girl who grew up out here, you sure are jumpy. If you get too scared you can always hold my hand again.” He blurts, not meaning to tease you, but when your reaction is flushed cheeks and a high-pitched squeak, he can’t help himself. 

Eventually, the flickering light of a campfire and the sound of laughter distracts you from the man walking next to you. You rush ahead, excitedly finding your way to Shinobu and Mitsuri, two of your closest friends. The only people invited to this bonfire were the kids who grew up coming to this camp and eventually became counselors or otherwise affiliated. 

Gyomei Himejima; the stern, yet emotional one that usually dealt with the older kids. He claims the young ones are too selfish and he’s unable to keep them in check. He’s the oldest one here but still has such a soft spirit despite not having any family to go home to. Gyomei honestly loves the summer gig, but always chats about his pet cat that he can’t wait to get back to. You guess that was his family to get back to. 

Tengen Uzui; Mister Casanova with the other counselors, but he’s rumored to be otherwise attached. Which was fine by you, Tengen was all talk, no action. Besides you didn’t want any action from him – his fan club would hunt you down and no matter how many defense classes you took, you would not be able to stop them.

Giyu Tomioka; the quiet one. He was great at his job but not the best at talking with the other counselors. He usually sat and listened to all of you talk on, interjecting a few times with his opinion. He was a genuine and good guy, you enjoyed talking to him one-on-one.

Kyojuro Rengoku; no one else could handle the little rascals than him. He worked with the younger children since he was as kind-hearted as they come. It takes a special type of person to do his job and no one could do it better than him, except maybe Mitsuri.

Mitsuri Kanroji; also works with the nursery and younger kids. She was a nurturer at heart, caring for the young ones was her specialty. You kept in contact with her and Shinobu the most outside of camp. 

Shinobu Kocho; was the head of the infirmary, in case a child got a pretty bad scrape or needed medication. She may appear stern, but she was actually a big softy when it came to caring for the injured.

Obanai Iguro; head of the kitchen and helps lead exploration hikes. Obanai didn’t talk much either, he had that mysterious bad-boy thing going for him – which unfortunately Mitsuri fawns over. He was also Sanemi’s best friend. 

The bonfire was an annual party held the day before camp starts. There was a rocky clearing at the top of the waterfall that fed into the lake. This spot had a perfect view of Camp Maple, overlooking the soft glowing lights and some people rushing around for last-minute chores. Memories intertwined themselves with the breeze rushing through the trees surrounding the group. It was like a second home up here or maybe more of an escape. Either way, the light feeling growing in your chest was a welcomed change from knowing you’d have to work with Sanemi. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to happen to you. It still felt like a firecracker ready to explode in your face at any moment. There was bound to be trouble with this arrangement.

You glance at him, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the fire. He’s grinning as he chats with Obanai, bringing a can of beer to his lips. You watch as his throat bobs, a dribble of liquid pooling at the corner of his mouth and eventually trickling down his neck. Before you can look away his eyes catch yours, a smirk lifting his lips as he pulls the can away. He raises his brows and your back straightens, your gaze quickly darting away. 

“Hey YN, have another drink.” Shinobu nudges you, passing you a bottle of liquor. You grin as you take it from her. 

The cool glass feels great against your mouth as you take a swig. The liquor burns a little as it slides down your throat, but it has a nice fruity taste to it. “Thanks,” You raise your glass to clink against hers. 

Mitsuri is on your other side, nervously wondering if she should talk to Obanai. “YN, would it be…weird for me to interject in their conversation?” She whispers in your ear, motioning discreetly to Obanai and Sanemi. You let out a soft sigh before chugging the rest of your drink. Your body fizzes with the warm gooey feeling of alochol. Mitsuri watches you with wide eyes, they sparkle in amazement. “Woah, that was really cool!” She exclaims. You huff out a laugh, extending your hand for Shinobu to hand you another. She does as you request and you pop open the cap with your teeth, letting the contents of the bottle slip into your mouth. Mitsuri claps excitedly, gaining the attention of the guys next to her. 

Sanemi stares at you, his brows knitting together slowly as he watches you swig one more bottle. You stand, swaying slightly as you turn to Sanemi. His gaze is trained on you, standing up as you stumble toward him. You crash into his arms, a dumb grin lining your lips. The group now looks on at the spectacle. “Nemi~” You coo, swinging your arms over his neck. Sanemi’s throat bobs, wrapping his muscular arm around your back to stabilize you. 

He laughs nervously, smiling with gritted teeth toward the rest of the group. “I’m going to take her back down,” He begins, pressing you tighter into his grip. You’re frustrated with how good his body feels against yours and when your shirt rides up a bit his skin feels like fire. Everyone seems in agreement, but you twist in his arms to shoot Mitsuri a thumbs up and a wink. Her face erupts in a red flurry and your goofy smile turns back to meet Sanemi’s gaze. 

You giggle at his stern expression. “Boop!” You squeak, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. His brows raise slowly as he takes in your slumping condition. 

Sanemi turns around, squatting down on his haunches. “Get on.” He motions with his head for you to climb onto his back. You hum excitedly, slinging your arms over his neck. Your legs wobble as you try to position yourself over his back. He sighs, reaching behind him to swipe your calves out from under you. You squeal as he repositions you, sliding his warm big hands under your thighs. “Hold on tight darlin’.” He instructs and you listen well by pressing into his back, nuzzling your chin onto his shoulder. “Well, have a good night everyone.” He tries his best to wave, the group saying their goodbyes. 

The view from his back is enjoyable as he hikes down the trail. “You’re so strong,” You mumble, spanning your hands down his chest absentmindedly. Sanemi pauses, his muscles constricting as you touch him. 

He shoots a look over his shoulder as you grope him. “Yeah, I work out, now please stop harassing me.” He jumps you further up his back to keep you from slipping off. You giggle at the jostling motion. 

Despite his earlier complaint, he lets your hands roam over what parts of his body you can reach. There's a comfortable silence that falls over you both but as you peer into the woods a memory you’d rather not think about seeps into your mind. “Sanemi,” You start, trying to swallow the way your heart is beating – hopefully, he couldn’t feel it against his back. “I’m sorry I was so angry at you.” The apology comes out of nowhere, but Sanemi knows what you’re talking about. 

He stops in his tracks, shutting his eyes for a beat. “Don’t apologize for what you have every right to feel.” He takes in a deep breath, you can feel his body rise with the motion. “I didn’t think your mother would do that, I-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat before continuing. “I was just worried about you. I was too scared to find you so I went to your mother.” 

Your brows scrunch and you feel your chest tighten at his words. You tap his back. “I want down.” He silently helps you slide down his back. He still holds onto you, making sure you can stand on your own. You glare into his soft expression, bottom lip trembling. “You should’ve found me,” Your nose stings with the pressure of tears welling in your eyes. He watches you with a solemn frown. “You should’ve come to me!” Your voice raises, a tear falling down your cheek. You hit his chest, letting out a choked sob. “You knew Sanemi, you knew she’d be angry.” Your fist drops from his chest, coming up to cover your soaked face. “I hoped beyond everything that you would appear over the hill, not her.” You throw your hands down, shaking your head. He just stands there, letting you drunkenly yell and cry like an idiot in front of him. Letting you hit him, throw your words at him, and relive a past you’d rather forget. 

He takes a step forward, yearning to reach out for you. “YN…” His voice is soft and comforting – you hate the fact you want to fall into his arms again. Have him carry you to safety like he should’ve done all those years ago. 

You step away from him, raising your hands in front of your face. “No, no, I need time.” Your voice trembles and as you leave Sanemi standing there in the dark you cry all the way back to your bed.

❦❦❦❦❦

“Welcome to Camp Maple Woods!” Your mother clasps her hands together excitedly. You groan from your position against the back wall with the rest of the counselors. She continues with the opening speech, her grating voice making your hangover that much worse. Mitsuri bumps shoulders with you, an all too happy smile on her face. 

You wish for just a second that you could have her resilience, but being perfect sounds like too much work. “Hey!” She whispers loudly to you. You peer around you, acting like she was talking to someone else. Mitsuri isn’t pleased with your antics because she crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a pointed look. You immediately halt and motion for her to continue. “Obanai and I texted all night.” Her stern expression lifts into a grin as her cheeks light up with a rosy color. 

You’re about to celebrate with her when Sanemi walks through the back doors. The happiness you share with Mitsuri washes away. You swallow hard, eyeing him as he leans against the wall next to Obanai. Unfortunately for you, Mitsuri is very observant. She glances between you and Sanemi, narrowing her eyes. “Now campers are you ready to go on your tours!?” Your attention is drawn to the front where your mother claps her hands together. For a brief moment, she meets your gaze and your blood boils. “May all our wonderful counselors head up to the stage!? We’ll be getting into our sections now!”

You put on your best smile, following Mitsuri to the stairs. Sanemi jogs up behind you and the resolve you’d built up this morning before heading to the main hall nearly crumbles to the ground. You had done your best to wake up early, hate your life as little as possible, shower, get ready, and escape the cabin before bumping into him. His presence behind you is an annoying warmth you want to swat away. Mitsuri joins Kyojuro and you awkwardly stand next to Sanemi with a strained smile. 

His shoulder brushes against yours and your breath hitches quietly. Your mother appears in front of you both, a blank expression on her features as she holds out a caterpillar sign to you. Your throat tightens, but Sanemi swipes it from her before she can shove it in your hands. You glance at him, brows knit together. The last thing you hear from your mother is a click of her tongue as she moves down the line. “Thank you.” You whisper, heart thumping in your chest. Was he trying to make up for what you talked about last night? 

He glances down at you, his smile shifting to something different. “Come find us caterpillars!” He yells and you gawk at him. He shoots you a wink and your lips part in awe. Did he just wink at you? That was so… weird. You shake your head and flail your hands in the air. 

Children start surrounding you, awkwardly shuffling to make room for others. Sanemi hands you a slip of paper with a list of names on it. Attendance doesn’t take long since everyone seems to have gathered around you. “Alright crew, let’s head out on that tour!” You exclaim, pointing your hand toward the double doors in the back. “Squirm to it you little caterpillars!” You shoo them down the stage, giggles erupting from a few of them as you jump off the edge. 

Sanemi follows the rest of them down the stairs, still holding the sign in the air. You giggle at how seriously he’s taking the task. “Mister Sanemi?” A small girl tugs on his shorts once everyone is outside. He peeks down at her with an award-winning smile. “Why is she not miss Sanemi?” She points to you and your eyes go wide as you tense. What kind of question is that!? Was there some code of conduct that camp leaders had to married to each other? Was two names that hard to remember?

Sanemi squats down and suddenly you get a flashback of him doing the same thing last night for you. You swallow, watching as he jerks his head in your direction. “Miss YN isn’t my wife, so she doesn’t share my name.” He explains. You drag a hand down your face. You didn’t expect this type of question to be asked so soon or at all. 

The little girl frowns and another kid points at Sanemi. “B-but I saw you wink at her!” The boy yells accusingly. Shit.

Sanemi glances at you with a ‘I fucked up’ look. He turns back to the group of children swarming him. He laughs easily. “I had something in my eye…” He deadpans. All of them suspiciously glare at him. 

You step into the circle, patting the top of Sanemi’s head. “It’s our secret leader code,” You begin, nudging him with your hip. “Whenever we have info on the big bad boss we wink at each other.” You wink at the children and their little faces light up. “Now you’re all in on our secret mission. Ready caterpillars!?” You stomp your feet and salute them with seriousness. They gasp and follow suit.

“Yes miss YN!” Sanemi shoots up from his squatted position, saluting you with a stupidly handsome grin. You stutter for a moment, before going back to at ease. “Now, what do you say we drop all these heavy bags off at the cabins and start exploring?” Sanemi suggests, pointing to the small path that led to the caterpillar cabins. As he excitedly starts leading them off into the distance you make sure to gather the stragglers. A smile of your own tugs on the corners of your mouth. Maybe you did make a pretty good team. 

Sanemi takes a seat on the stairs of your cabin, observing the kids form cabins of their own. You plop down one stair down from him, an amused grin forming on his lips. “What are you grinning about?” You quiz, glancing at him. 

He shrugs, shifting himself onto the same step as you and leaning back against the other steps. You can’t help the way your heart seems to pick up river dancing, beating fully. “Just figurin’ since we’re agents together we should be close.” You glare over your shoulder, met with his lazy smirk in your direction. A huff compresses out of your mouth as you roll your eyes. “What? I like the way you act when I get close to you.” He laughs, eyeing your reaction – which was exactly what he wanted. 

From his vantage point, Sanemi can just about manage to see your cheeks flush before you turn away from him, hiding away in your arm. “Like I’m being infected?” You shoot back, quickly standing up and – definitely pretending – to stretch. 

Sanemi’s eyes slowly rake up the exposed skin of your back, his tongue swirling around in his mouth as if trying to imagine how you would taste. “Mmm, somethin’ like that.” He hums, grinning widely when you narrow your eyes at him. 

The group of children start lining up in the grass, playing with each other while waiting for the rest of them. Some of them you recognize from last year, it’s crazy how fast kids can grow and change. Once you recognize all of their faces you and Sanemi start the tour. 

There are specific things that a sleepaway camp needs to have. Such as the obvious answer, cabins. The next obvious thing on the list is a beautiful lake. “Lake Maple was discovered way back when and this camp was built around it to preserve the landscape. There are canoes, swim gear, and a nice dock to carefully jump from. Make sure if you go to the lake that you have either Mister Sanemi or myself with you for safety.” Sanemi watches you recite the information you were supposed to give out, but you seem genuinely excited talking about the camp’s history. It was endearing… and the way your eyes gleam reminds him of when you were little, climbing trees and always reaching your hand out to him. You never left him behind. He sighs, turning away from your speech. 

The next thing a camp needs is huge buildings where lots of kids can gather. “This is the mess hall, where we’ll have breakfast, lunch, and dinner! It’ll also be where some indoor activities are held. If we don’t gather here, we’ll meet up by the picnic benches back at Caterpillar Circle. Over there is the infirmary where Miss Shinobu will gladly help you out. The main office is the building you should’ve passed when you were dropped off, that’s where Mrs Yena will be with, sadly, the only phone that has any service.” You point out, then turn toward the woods on the other side of the main camp area. You gesture widely to the expanse, taking in a deep breath. “And this, my little squiggles,” the children giggle, “Is Maple Woods, where we will hike trails, explore the wonders of nature, and fight off the evil boss.” Without thinking you wink at Sanemi. You can tell by the way his eyes bulge that he wasn’t expecting it, but as the little heads slowly turn to watch his reaction he quickly winks back at you. You catch yourself sighing in relief that you wouldn’t have to lay in bed staring at the ceiling for too long tonight because of that. 

A little girl you recognize from previous years – Himari you think – raises her hand. You nod to her in recognition. “Are we going to have the first-day campfire?” She jumps up and down, the girls around her getting excited as well. You glance down at your watch, then up to the sky, then do the girls. 

It was already late in the afternoon, the kids would have dinner and then gather back at Caterpillar Circle for an evening get-to-know-each-other campfire session. You grin, kids always enjoy the fire for some concerning reason. “Way to steal my job Himari!” You laugh and she giggles along with you. “Okay everyone, you heard Himari, head back to your cabins and get ready for dinner. Then we’ll have some time to get closer before bedtime. We have a busy day of fun tomorrow.” When they stare at you blankly, obviously waiting for one of you to start leading the way, you start marching your way down the path with as much vigor as you can muster. 

Soon enough, you and Sanemi are back in your positions on the stairs to your cabin. That comfortable silence blankets you again, like the setting sun’s warmth. “Ya’know you’re really good at this,” Sanemi begins before blowing out a breath and turning to face you. “M’glad we get to work together.” He finishes, a distant glimmer of emotion swirling around in his lilac gaze. You suck in a breath, a storm brewing in your stomach. 

Sanemi was a good guy, that much was obvious, but all those years ago had driven a wedge between you two. He hadn’t said the words ‘I’m sorry’ yet, which was a small nuance in the grand scheme of things. Sanemi was never really the type to say an apology, instead, he showed you. You can’t expect that much to change within him and you’re kind of glad. He would make it up to you until you were sure the wounds had begun to heal. He was giving you time to make up your mind on whether or not you wanted to forgive him. “Me too,” You whisper against the breeze. 

A whole column of picnic tables lined up edge-to-edge belong to your crew as you file into the mess hall. A couple of other groups are already sitting down with food, including the littles. Mitsuri and Kyojuro wave excitedly at you and Sanemi. You grin, waving back. “Alright squiggles, show me how nicely you can line up to receive dinner. Then come sit down and we’ll have a little camp saying before we start eating together.” They scramble toward the food and you kick your legs under the table part, deflating slightly. 

Sanemi comes up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. It makes you straighten your back and whip around to look at him. His lips curl in a playful grin. “Want the usual?” You glance at the kitchen, your stomach growling softly. You look back to Sanemi, nodding eagerly. 

As he walks away you think back to when he’d grab you dinner all the time, sitting in this exact mess hall. “Don’t disappoint me Shinazugawa!” You yell and he shoots you a smug grin as he scoots in line next to one of the boys in your group, Kenji. 

Mitsuri peers at you from her table, glancing back at Sanemi. Something seems fishy, she just can’t put her finger on it. Before this month you were complaining about seeing him again and now you two appear to be chumming again. Did something happen that you weren’t telling her? She pouts, nuding Kyojuro. “Do those two seem friendlier?” She asks in a hushed tone. Kyojuro furrows his thick brows, humming as his gaze flips between his white-haired friend and you. He’s about to tell Mitsuri she’s off her rocker, but he catches Sanemi throwing a look back at you while you are otherwise occupied with kiddos sitting down next to you. 

Kyojuro turns to Mitsuri, concern written all over his face. “Yes,” He hisses and now Mitsuri is concerned you may have ingested a little too much alcohol trying to help her out.

After a couple of minutes, Sanemi places a tray of vanilla pudding, tater tots, and chicken tenders with honey mustard sauce in front of you. “M’lady.” He grins, slipping onto the bench across from you with a tray of his own. Hana smacks Sanemi’s arm and he peers down at her with a surprised look. “What was that about Hana?” He questions, holding onto his arm where she hit him. 

She puffs out her lips and points at you angrily. “Mister Sanemi, we just went over this. Miss YN is not your lady.” She crosses her arms glaring at him. His brows shoot up, giving you a look of amusement before patting Hana’s head.

She looks like she might bite him at first, but then she leans into his hand. “Only because Miss YN keeps rejecting me..” He smirks at you. Ha! As if!

You roll your eyes, but gather the attention of your tables. “Let’s sing my favorite camp song!” You lead them in the Camp Maple fighting song that ends with chanting the name of the camp. “Wake me up wake me up we’re going to camp! I can’t wait I can’t wait we’re going to camp! There it is there it is we’re going to camp! Which one which one!? C-A-M P…M-A-P L-E!” They seem to enjoy every second of it, mainly because they get to scream as loud as they can. Sanemi meets your gaze for a blissful second before you busy yourself with your food, biting into one of the chicken tenders. Delight rumbles from your chest as you swallow the meat. 

Sanemi can’t help but watch you stuff your face. On one hand, he’s amused by how you still enjoy the simple things in life. On the other hand, he’s concerned when his heart races at you picking up the vanilla pudding. Being the heathen you were, as a child you’d just eat it with your finger. You claimed you could get more out of a cup if you used your finger. He grips onto the bench, gritting his teeth as you follow suit, sticking your pointer finger in. The creamy pudding sits there momentarily before you pop it into your mouth. 

It’s a simple, innocent – completely fucking innocent – motion, but his thoughts shift to something more warm than the humidity. Fuck why was seeing you damp with light sweat making him hungry? When you let your tongue swirl around the tip of your finger it drives Sanemi mad. Is he panting? He feels like he’s panting. 

A bit of pudding is on the corner of your mouth, waiting there. His heated gaze mimics how your tongue darts out to collect it. He sucks on his lips, regarding how your plump lips look so fucking delicious right now. 

The only thing that snaps Sanemi out of his daze is Hana plopping a spoon in front of you with a disgusted look on her little features. “You know Miss YN, if you needed a spoon you could’ve just asked.” She grunts, shuddering. Your cheeks flush and for the briefest seconds, you gape, staring into his eyes. Your cheeks flush a vibrant pink and suddenly Sanemi is picking up the spoon and using it in his own pudding. Hana and you both gawk at him, but if he were allowed to feed into one desire this whole time, it would be watching you eat pudding with your finger. Especially if it meant you’d look at him like that again. 

“This is the best pudding I’ve ever had.” Sanemi mumbles and Hana sighs frustratedly. “Something wrong Hana?” He asks. She whips her head toward him with a frown. 

Sanemi has to roll his lips into his mouth to stop from laughing at how cute she’s glaring at him. “Yes, I’m going to have nightmares.” She huffs. Yeah me too, but they aren’t exactly going to be nightmares Sanemi thought. 

Dinner finishes and children run around your feet as you walk out of the mess hall. The short walk back to Caterpillar Circle feels like an eternity with Sanemi walking silently beside you. “Can we wear our pajamas to the campfire!?” Aoi breezes past you yelling. 

You quirk a brow. “How about we make it a race? Whoever is back at the picnic tables first… wins.” You eye the giddy looks on all of their faces. “Ready? Go!” You don’t expect Sanemi to bolt toward his side of the cabin. Oh, so he’s going to play it that way?

Kids scramble to their cabins, giggling and yelling. You’re also laughing as you quickly swing your door open. You spot the pajamas you’d laid out earlier this morning with a smirk on your lips. The one reason you suggested a race is because you had an advantage. Cheating? No, strategic gameplay.  

You tug your clothes off, and toss them in the hamper beside your desk. A pair of shorts and an oversized shirt later you’re rushing out of the door in your slippers. You glance to your side, grinning mischievously when you don’t see Sanemi coming out of his door. You pump your hand in the air victoriously, spinning around in a mini victory dance. You proudly take your time prancing down the stairs, but when you turn to head toward the picnic tables Sanemi is leaning against the end of one with an amused smirk tugging his lips upward. Your mouth falls open, glancing back at his door. “How…? You…?” You slump in defeat as you reach him. 

He chuckles softly, bumping arms with you. “Your victory dance was pretty cute.” He teases. You glare at him, shoving him back with your side. 

Cute? In what way did he mean that? Sanemi must’ve talked too much with Tengen to pull one of those lines. You mutter a string of curses as you sit down in one of the green plastic lawn chairs. The arms dig into your hips and you grunt uncomfortably, pushing yourself into a less painful position. 

Your thighs are pressed together as you squirm around in the chair and Sanemi finds himself ogling the space where your shorts disappear under your tummy. He wanted to run his tongue along that area while grazing his teeth along your thighs. A lascivious smirk pulls on his mouth as he clears his throat, turning his face to the sky. 

The campfire starts with each kiddo introducing themselves, where they’re from, and three interesting facts about them. After the introductions, you bring out the s’more fixings with a twinkling grin as the kids scream enthusiastically. The night ends with you and Sanemi carrying some of them who fall asleep back to their beds. It was a euphoric space in time, something about today felt so right. Maybe the following weeks wouldn’t be so bad.

❦❦❦❦❦

You were wrong, so wrong. Sanemi stands to your side with his swim shorts on, assessing your outfit. “So… you’re not going to swim?” He cocks his head, quirking a brow. You lean back further into the armless beach chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He closes his mouth, glancing at the group of kids playing with water toys in and out of the water. “Nope.” You reply. “Observing from a distance is more my thing.” You continue, sliding your sunglasses over your eyes so you don’t have to squint through the rays of the sun. Sanemi sighs, disappointment finding its way into his mind. 

This morning when he saw you in a camp shirt with jean shorts he was sure you had a bikini on underneath. The only reason he got through a kid screaming about not getting any bacon this morning was the light at the end of his tunnel – you in a tight flattering bikini. “Y’know I knew you weren’t girly, but this is a whole new level.” Sanemi pokes at you, hoping that the fiery spirit within you will shoot out if he bugs you enough.

You glare at him, gesturing to your outfit. “This outfit is very girly I’ll have you know.” Sanemi shakes his head like he doesn’t believe you so you scoot as quickly as you can out of the chair. “Fine, watch the kids. I’ll be right back.” You snap. As you’re stomping back to your room you can’t help but think maybe you acted exactly how he wanted you to. If that was the case, then you’d give him what he wants, but he’ll pay the price. The malicious grin that forms on your lips as you pull out your lavender string bikini is grounds to have you locked away. 

Sanemi throws a beach ball at a group of the boys in the face as they giggle. In the back of his head is a flurry of lewd images of you spread out on that damn beach chair with a revealing swimsuit on. The boys throw the ball back at him and it plinks against his chest. He shakes his head, reaching for the ball as the boys groan. Fantasies of you were a distraction so he couldn't even imagine what the real thing would do to him. “Woah…” He hears one of the boys whisper. He glances up, met with the heavenly picture of you walking down the bank in a light purple string bikini that laces across your front. The cups are simple triangles with a string wrapping around the back of your neck for support he would only suppose. The bottoms rise above the roundness of your hips, showing off the fullness of your body. Damn, his mouth felt dry as he can’t tear his eyes away from you. 

His stomach was a trainwreck of emotions, the ball long forgotten by Sanemi. He blinks rapidly, trying to get you out of his eyes, but it was damn hard when you slowly lay back down on the chair, crossing your ankles over each other. He can see the side of your ass and for a beat, he feels like he might lose control. Then one of the boys throws the beach ball at him, it smacks against his face. This was torture. He expected you to look good, but the thin fabric allowed him to see the indent of your nipples – a vivid image he was never going to forget. 

You smirk while lounging in the chair, studying the way Sanemi’s mouth falls open ever so slightly. It was a strange sense of gratification that he was so enraptured by how you appeared in the bikini. Almost like you were happy he was gaping at you, a fire lit behind his eyes that ignited something in your chest. If you weren’t careful you were bound to let it out at some point. 

Since you were lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Sanemi stalking up to your side. You squeak when he appears next to you, dropping a towel over your exposed skin. You glare up at him through your sunglasses. “Did you walk out of every boy’s fantasy?” He grumbles, running a hand through his damp hair. 

Clicking your tongue, you toss the towel to the side and sit up in the chair. “Does that include yours Sanemi?” You inquire, pushing your sunglasses up through your hair. He stares at you for a while, mulling over what kind of response to give you. 

Suddenly, he scoffs and turns his back to you. “Yeah. Yeah it does.” You swallow hard at his confession, the sun’s heat no longer feeling as hot. You scoff, leaning back into the chair. He gives you one last glance before running back to play with the boys in the water. 

Was he being serious? He couldn’t have been…right? It wouldn’t make sense for Sanemi Shinazugawa, the guy whose seen you eat a bug, to have a fantasy – or whatever he meant about you. The confusion made the victory bikini less fun. 

At dinner, the kids are enraptured in a conversation about tomorrow’s canoe outing in the afternoon. This might seem silly, with you being a sleepaway camp counselor that has a giant lake as its main attraction… but you never learned how to fully swim. You can keep your head above water if you’re able to touch the bottom. It's something you haven't mentioned to anyone due to the fact you would die of embarrassment. “How quickly can you go Miss YN?” Hana’s eyes are pleading with you to answer her inquiry. 

So you smile, despite the obvious anxiety of where this answer might lead you. “Faster than Mister Sanemi.” You reply, jerking your thumb toward the white-haired male sitting a bit further down from you. 

He perks up at the mention of his name, meeting your eyes. “Did you just say you’re faster than me?” He laughs, scooting down to sit across from you. Hana nods ecstatically before you can brush off the challenge dripping from his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your hands in front of you. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare reveal the truth about you being a slowpoke.” You tease. Sanemi quirks a brow, letting his eyes look you up and down. The simple motion makes your muscles tense with a buzzing sensation. 

He hums to himself, leaning back with a shake of his head. “I bet you can’t win in the beginners' course against me.” Sanemi smirks, the boys around him snickering. 

Your eye twitches at the smug look on his stupid face. You clasp your hands together, smiling with gritted teeth. “You’re on Shinazugawa.”

That was your second mistake of the week as you shakily got into a canoe the next morning dressed in a white shirt and comfortable black shorts. The kids were fine with pushing off the hike to another day to witness this extraordinary event. Sanemi is grinning victoriously already. It makes you want to slap him with the paddle you’re holding. “Ready?” He asks. 

The grip you have on the paddle tightens as you nod curtly. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You respond. Sanemi nods to one of the kids who starts a countdown before they all scream GO! Everything is going fine until you reach the turn. Sanemi is already far ahead of you and this becomes more of proving you can do it to yourself than winning against that smug bastard. 

With the paddle dipping into the water you manage to turn around the flagged buoy, children cheering your name. Your heart nearly explodes with happiness at the accomplishment. You make it a few more feet before you get too overzealous and the canoe starts to flip. As you crash into the water you knew you’d just have to flip yourself back over to – well, not drown. But something goes wrong and you slip out of the canoe, into the deep end of the lake. Murky water crowds your vision and a few thoughts crowd your mind. 

Will you get out of this alive? Is this some sort of divine intervention about how you’ve been previously living your life? Was this your canon event? You’d laugh at that one if you weren’t still sinking to what felt like the depths of the lake.

Would your mother even care? Okay, that one stings, but it’s something you think about a lot. When you’re driving and have one of those intrusive thoughts about wrecking. Would she care? Noticing a creepy person walking behind you at night. Would she come to your funeral? And now, as you lose the will to breathe. Would she remember what you smelt like, sounded like, looked like? 

Sanemi crawls out of his canoe, raising his hands in victory. He turns around to gloat in your face, but he’s met with your canoe upside down. You are nowhere in sight and after a second of you not popping back up, Sanemi frantically dives into the water. Where are you? His hands glide through the water, searching for any sign of your body. Where are you? Water fills his ears, only making the pounding in his chest louder with each stroke of his arms. He breaches the surface, gasping for air and twirling around to see anything – anything that would lead him to you. “Mister Sanemi! There!” A child screeches, pointing to the front side of your canoe. 

He plunges back in after taking a large gulp of air. He will find you this time. He’s not scared anymore. Not like all those years ago. He couldn’t lose you, not like this.

Amid some plant life is your floating body. If Sanemi were above water he thinks he’d cry with joy. He quickly moves toward you, scooping you up and pushing both of you toward the surface. Please please please don’t be too late. Sanemi’s mind is whirling with anxiety and his heart is pounding with the lack of oxygen. You both break through the surface, Sanemi pulling you along with him to shore. He deposits your limp body on the sand, panting and scanning for any sign of injury. 

You’re not breathing. Damnit. Sanemi’s jaw ticks as the children rush toward him. “Mister Sanemi give her CPR!” Hana yells, stomping her foot and mimicking the pushing rhythm he should be performing on you. He wipes his mouth, nostrils flaring as he slides to your side. His insides were twisting in unbreakable knots, squeezing his lungs of all air.

He pinches your nose and lowers his mouth to yours. “You can yell at me later,” He breathes quietly before connecting his lips to yours. As he pushes air through your lungs his lecherous mind drifts to how very wonderful your lips feel against his. They’re wet and taste like lake water, but they’re so damn soft. After a few more blows he worriedly looks at your chest. He doesn’t want to break your ribs, but if he has to in order to save your life – he’s going to.

Luckily, you chose now as the moment to gasp in air and then start hacking up lake water. Your eyes wildly scan your surroundings, locking onto the man hovering inches from your face. You squirm away from him, coughing into your hand. Sanemi and the children watch you with concern-stricken faces. You touch your throat gingerly, meeting the swirling lilac gaze of the male in front of you. “You saved me,” You croak out as it all falls into place, furrowing your brows. 

Hana pops into your view shaking her head. “Took him a long time to kiss you!” She yells, an annoyed pout on her lips. You glance back to Sanemi, his gaze still locked onto you. 

He cocks a grin in your direction which makes your heart swell. “I gave you mouth-to-mouth.” He explains and the worry about you being unconscious for your first kiss with Sanemi – not that you’ll have a first kiss with him – drifts away. The thought of his mouth on yours stays wandering in your head regardless. “Kids, can you hang out in the mess hall while I take Miss YN to the infirmary?” Sanemi questions, the children eagerly following instructions. He peers down at you once they’ve all scurried toward the big building. 

With a grunt, he slides his hands behind your neck and knees, hoisting you up bridal style. You yelp at how easily he holds you against his chest. “Hey, I can walk,” You grumble, glaring at his concentrated expression. He shakes his head, climbing up the bank. 

As he climbs you nearly tumble out of his arms. He cracks a smile, shifting you in his grasp. “Might wanna hold on tighter than that darlin’. Don’t worry, I won’t mind.” 

Begrudgingly you wrap your arms around his neck. The walk to the infirmary takes less than a couple of strides when he reaches the walkway. Shinobu worriedly meets your gaze when Sanemi kicks open the door with his foot. She stands from her desk, hurrying over to his side. “What happened!?” She assesses you with a scrutinizing look. “Put her down on that bed. I need to go get another bottle of aspirin from the main office. Sit tight.” Shinobu huffs, running a hand through her hair before slipping out of the door. 

Sanemi gently lays you on the bed, giving you a scan of his own. You swallow hard, wondering why your body feels so warm despite the brisk ac making your wet clothes stick to you. The way his lilac eyes regard you made something inside of you switch. He’d shown you how deeply he cared for you by saving your life. Granted, any decent person would’ve jumped in to pull you out of the water – but Sanemi looks shaken up. Like he almost lost you. It makes your chest heave, a heavyweight tugging on it as you reach up to touch his cheek. 

His worried look turns to you, a slight wobble in his irises as your thumb strokes the side of his face. “Hey… I’m here. I’m okay. You did such a good job.” You whisper, but yet your voice seems too loud. Sanemi leans into your touch, shutting his eyes as he takes in a shaky breath. 

It was all fun and games until he had to think of a world without you in it. The bottom line is he wouldn’t have a world without you. The grass would shrivel, the color would drain, and sunlight would simply cease to exist. “You should’ve told me you couldn’t swim.” His brows furrow and he opens his eyes to stare into your very soul. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was so worried YN.” He rolls his lips into a thin line, his chin trembling. 

It’s like you lose your breath all at once. This man, the one you thought didn’t have an ounce of compassion for you, was about to start crying because you failed to mention your lack of skill. You bump your forehead against his head, kissing his hairline. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” At your words he jerks away from your head, his eyes wildly scanning your face. Your breath holds tightly in your throat as time seemingly slows. 

Then his eyes fall to your lips and everything in the universe pulls you two together into a soft brush of the lips. Given the state of it, hidden behind a white curtain on the infirmary bed, the kiss felt too precious. Too wonderful. Your hand falls from his face and before you have a moment to give in to whatever was happening, Sanemi pulls away. He shoots to a standing position, turning on his heel. Your body cools instantly. Oh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” He begins, taking a couple of steps toward the curtain. Oh. He quickly glances over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He hisses, then rushes out of the building nearly bumping into Shinobu as she walks back with a pill bottle in hand. She jumps back, eyes widening as she watches Sanemi stalk toward the mess hall. If it hadn’t been for the heat she might’ve mistaken the red on the tip of his ears as something else. 

❦❦❦❦❦

Weekends are set up for the kids to decide what they want to do. It’s a free period within reason. Most of them hang out in groups around the buildings, playing games or swimming. Weekends allow the leaders to get chores done around the campgrounds, like picking up trash, organizing things for the next week, arranging laundry, and supervising more involved things. 

You happened to spend most of the first weekend with a group of girls who wanted to use the craft supplies for next week. Since Sanemi was your co-leader there were times you had to speak with him, which made avoiding him incredibly difficult. 

The thing that upset you the most was even after he ran off, your heart still flutters at just the sight of him. Weren’t you supposed to be the master of your own emotions? It frustrated you to no end how you sought him out in crowds. At first, you tried to convince yourself it was a strategy to avoid him, but when he didn’t come to talk to you somehow your heart sank. 

Before you know it, Monday morning arrives, casting a stormy forecast for the rest of the week. It’s pouring heavily outside the mess hall windows. Fortunately, your group of kids are behaving even though it couldn’t be easy stuck inside all day. Your eyes are drawn to the other group happily stringing beads onto yarn. 

Sanemi sits amongst them with a warm smile on his face, actively trying not to glance at you. He can feel your gaze on him and it was making his heart feel weird, like he’d just run a mile or hiked up a trail. He presses his lips into a thin line, laughing absentmindedly at one of the boys spilling beads everywhere. 

The kiss. That’s all he could think about and it was ruining his life. All night he tossed and turned thinking about knocking your door down so he could do it again. Regret ran through every fiber of his being when he walked away. He thought he’d gotten over his fears, but it turns out that realizing you might have feelings for your good friend is not the easiest situation to be in. He was in a panic, fucking terrified you would hate him for kissing you. He didn’t even ask you, it just happened. What kind of scumbag was he? 

He groans, turning to face away from you. You huff, rolling your eyes. Fine, he could be that way if he wanted. He’s the one who kissed you anyway. This was all on Sanemi. Hana nudges her friends Keiko, Mai, and Akane. They all slowly turn to stare at you, then toward Sanemi. Keiko narrows her eyes while tying the knot on her bracelet. “Somethings wrong,” She mumbles, slipping the adorably crafted jewelry onto her arm. 

Mai and Akane nod vigorously. “Why are they avoiding each other?” Akane hisses, glancing back at their other leader. Hana shakes her head, stroking her chin in thought. 

Kenji appears behind the group, causing them all to jump. Mai slaps his shoulder and he giggles. “What’cha talkin’ ‘bout?” He pokes his head in between Akane and Mai’s shoulders. They collectively sigh, rolling their eyes at the annoying boy. 

Hana gestures to both leaders, pinching her brow. “For some reason, Mister Sanemi and Miss YN are avoiding each other.” She explains snappily. 

Kenji pops his head up, glancing at both of you. His mouth forms in the shape of an ‘o’. “Ah, this reminds me of when my mom and dad would fight and then ignore each other.” Hana perks up at his suggestion, slowly turning to look at her friends. 

Mai raises a brow and then grabs a piece of yarn. “There’s only one way to fix this.” She valiantly collects a bunch of green beads to mix with lilac ones. She picks out two heart-shaped beads that sit on either side of a letter in the middle. When she’s done, two bracelets sit in front of her. One has an ‘S’ with two red hearts on either side, followed by a pattern of lilac and green. The other is the same, except in the middle is the first letter of your name. “Matching friendship bracelets,” She holds them up, smiling triumphantly. 

Hana claps her hands together. “Wonderfully done Agent Mai, now let’s give it to them!” She grabs the ‘S’ one from Mai’s hands, running over to your side. “Miss YN!” She yells. “We made this for you!” Without much consideration for your wrist, she shoves it past your hand. 

“Here you go Mister Sanemi!” You turn to see Kenji holding what seems to be the same bracelet in front of Sanemi’s face. A roll of thunder shakes the valley outside and his eyes meet yours momentarily. It sends a shock of emotions through you.

Later that night as the rain plips against your window you stare at your wrist in awe. A growl echoes around your room and it takes you a moment to realize it was your stomach. It almost makes you crack a smile. You would’ve if you weren’t in such a daze as you walk out into the living room area. 

What you don’t expect to see is Sanemi leaning against the counter shirtless, with his sweats hanging loosely around his athletic hips. You swallow, taking your time to rake your eyes up his bare chest. When you end up meeting his gaze his lips tug into a smirk. “Enjoy the view?” He mutters, picking a peach up off the counter. 

Your brows furrow and you cross your arms over your chest defensively. “As a matter of fact, no I’m not.” You snap, scoffing and lying through your teeth. 

Sanemi shrugs, biting into the juicy peach tantalizingly slow. Juices leak from the broken skin, dribbling down his chin as he takes the flesh into his mouth. His tongue darts out to lick up a droplet escaping down the side of the fruit. You gulp as he continues to eat. The noises alone were enough to drive a woman mad, but the fact you were ovulating made everything so much worse. “Want one?” Sanemi asks, licking his lips of all the sticky juice. 

If you were crazy your mouth would fall open, allowing him to put the one he was eating into your mouth. “No.” You grumble, yanking a can of Pringles out of the cabinet. 

Sanemi watches how your ass curves as you stretch to reach into the upper cabinet. “Suit yourself,” He mutters, biting into the peach again. You roll your eyes and march right back into your room, tossing the pringles onto your bed. You ruffle your hair, silently screaming into the night. Fuck that guy for being shirtless. He waltzed around like a whore scrounging for some loose change obviously trying to get a rise out of you. Would the kiss go unmentioned forever? How were you supposed to be around Sanemi when all you could think about was how badly you wanted to jump his bones? You’re absolutely fucked. You grit your teeth together as you glare at the door. But damn did he have such a perfect body. The sweats, the lazy smile, the damn peach he bit into. It was all torture and he damn well knew it.

He wasn’t likely to figure out the full extent of your feelings– hell you didn’t even know exactly what you felt, but if he kept this up you might as well walk around with a neon sign on your forehead that reads I’d like to fuck Sanemi Shinazugawa. Maybe then your mother would pay attention to you. Not that you care.

You glance down at your wrist again, the letter ‘S’ spreading a grin across your face. This was stupid. So stupid. What if Sanemi was still in the other room? Or using the bathroom? What would you do then? You have a pit of desire and you wish Sanemi would clean it off with his teeth. Were you jealous of a peach? Groaning, you slip out of your bottom layer of clothing, discarding it on the floor. Things were getting dangerous. Your thoughts were supplying you with a fantasy world and you were about to become delusional. At least then you wouldn’t have to face the reality of this stupid – well, whatever it was. 

Positioning yourself against the corner of your bed, you spread your legs apart. The cool breeze from the ac hits your damp pussy and the sensation makes you slump against the wall. If Sanemi were between your legs right now he’d probably lick his lips and spread them even wider so he could have full range to lavish his tongue against your sensitive clit. A tiny moan whines from your throat. 

The image drives you to reach between your thighs, hissing when your fingers brush against your clit. His tongue would feel warm, wet, and slick as it laps at your folds. Your fingers plunge deeper, a strangled moan falling from your mouth.

Your breathing pattern stalls, hiccuping as you work yourself into a frenzy – the inside of your stomach feeling gooey and hot. His long thick fingers would slip into your pussy, teasing the entrance where you’d beg for him to fuck you later. He’d smirk, pleased with how you’re so desperate for his cock, for all of him. But he’d make you wait, good girls always wait for permission. You groan – a guttural pleasured groan. It rolls through your chest, cracking into a whimper at the end as you edge yourself closer to your crest. 

It’s like you’re seeing stars with how your fingers feel, you only wish Sanemi were here, ready to please like he usually is. His words and touch always elicit a response from you. He had to know that. What kind of response would he get out of you as he lined the tip of his cock up at your entrance? Making you bed for him to fuck you unconscious. You’d be such a good little slut for him. Taking all of him inside your hungry cunt until he clung to your hips, spilling his seed inside of you. 

A tense pinch of pleasure squeezes your core, crashing through your body with a string of perfectly pretty moans. Sanemi hadn’t meant to listen to you masturbating. It was an accident – he’d come to your door to apologize for allowing you to misunderstand his intentions. His knuckles had brushed against the wood of your door when he heard you gasp. Wondering if you were okay he pressed his ear to the door. Then, his muscles tensed as you purred out a moan. 

Sanemi was a decent man – or so he thought until his hand slips down to his growing bulge. He hisses as you whimper, gasping for air – your bed squeaking with movement. He wants to swing the door open and take in the sight of you sprawled out. What kind of face were you making while moaning like that? More importantly, what were you thinking about? 

You’re whimpering and the glint of the beads around Sanemi’s wrist sends his thoughts spiraling. The very same bracelet he wore on his arm was around yours. It was like he was between your legs, pressing his thumb against your clit to proudly watch you squirm in pleasure. His mouth waters, imagining how you’d taste after cumming. His cock aches to burrow into your wet warmth and stay there forever. 

He presses his forehead to the wood, letting out a tight breath as he strokes his length through the cloth of his sweatpants. If he stayed here any longer it would surely result in him knocking down your door. Not the valiant way he had thought about confessing. Sanemi steps away from your door, cursing under his breath. He holds up his arm, staring at the matching bracelet until he notices the first letter of your name. His gaze slowly makes it way back to the door. Was there an ‘S’ on yours? For his name? His eyes flutter shut, a trickle of possessiveness racking through his body. 

Tuesday is finger painting. The kids each get their own easel and insist you and Sanemi paint with them. The morning ends with Sanemi having paint smeared across his face and you with splotches on your arms. The afternoon is bubble painting, which results in bubbles being blown everywhere. Wednesday is crafting things with clay. You proudly present your monstrosity at the end of the day. Sanemi and the kids try their best to compliment whatever you had created, but you can tell they’re just being nice. 

When Thursday rolls around the kids want to draw and color all day so Sanemi and you make sure they have lots of construction paper, colors, and other supplies. You’re sitting with Hana’s group of friends and Sanemi is across the room with a group of boys, drawing furiously.

Kenji peers down at what Mister Sanemi had drawn. “Hey, that kind of looks like Miss YN,” He points at the stick figure holding the hand of the other one. Sanemi covers the page and shakes his head. 

Kenji somehow manages to push his arms off, grabbing the paper. “Oi! Brat, give that back!” He yells as Kenji runs over to your side. You smile down at him as he hands you the page. 

You cover your heart and your smile grows. “Aww, Kenji did you draw this?” You ask, your voice softening. 

He shakes his head vigorously. “Nope! Mister Sanemi drew you and him holding hands!” You glance up, meeting the flushed face of Sanemi standing over Kenji. His eyes look pleading as you drop your eyes to the drawing again. It did kind of look like you, but that would be impossible. Why would Sanemi draw something like this? 

“YN, listen…” He starts, brushing up against you. Your body stiffens at his close proximity. “I hadn’t finished, I was going to draw the kids in next.” He explains. You wish he would step back from your side because his warmth is driving you insane. 

Kenji giggles as he rushes back to his group of friends. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.” You state, handing the drawing back to Sanemi. “I could honestly care less what you draw.” You smile sarcastically and turn back to your group. Sanemi stands behind you for a moment, his heart yearning to reach out and touch you again – but he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He obviously already fucked up when he kissed you, after all you’d been avoiding him. It was best that he kept his distance to figure out how to talk to you and give you space so you’d listen to him.

The next morning you manage to chow down your breakfast before Sanemi enters the kitchen area. In all honesty, you were aware thinking about someone you were mad at while masturbating… wasn’t the best look. You didn’t want to think about the realities of what that meant for you since Sanemi was still being an asshole about the whole innocent kiss thing. The thoughts going through your head last night were far from innocent. 

You’re sitting in a lawn chair, writing down some ideas for today’s craft. The kids had to make puppets and come up with a script to perform in the afternoon. With your group of kids, things were bound to go smoothly. You grin, shutting your notebook and checking the time on your phone. It was almost time for the kids to meet you and Sanemi near the picnic benches. You glare at your cabin, waiting for the white-haired male to step out of his door at any moment. The knob turns and you quickly act like you weren’t blatantly waiting for him. “Mornin’ YN,” Sanemi calls, jogging up to your side. You roll your eyes, glancing at the casually attractive outfit he has on. A pair of fitted black shorts that accentuate the size of his muscular thighs with a loose gray shirt tucked into one side. 

He plops down next to you. “Why were you so late?” You interrogate. Sanemi quirks an easy smirk, eyeing you out of the corner of his eye.

Sanemi props one of his legs over the other, leaning further into the chair. “I had to take a shower,” He begins, raising his brows. “Could’ve used the company.” He cocks his head toward you, his lilac eyes filling with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. 

Your brows furrow despite the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Scared of showering by yourself just like you’re scared of kissing people?” You snap and his playfulness is immediately wiped off his face. Where were these words coming from? Were you going crazy? The inside voices are becoming the outside voices! It’s too late now to back peddle. You scoff, turning away from him. “Don’t, I know you regret and it’s fine. I just figured you would’ve cut back on the flirting.” You push out of the chair. “I’m not some girl you can flirt with for the summer and then fuck off to wherever, okay? If you’re going to accidentally kiss me then fucking own up to it and talk to me like an adult. You made me feel so uncomfortable because I somehow thought it was my fault. So this whole cool-guy act needs to stop. Until we have a real conversation about what happened I would rather go back to friendly hating each other.” 

As you stomp away Sanemi feels the ‘oh shit’ factor roll through him. While he’d been trying to figure out his feelings toward you, he’d been allowing you to figure it out for him. You assumed he wanted some summer fun and thought better after kissing you, but that wasn’t it at all. Sanemi was falling, so fucking deeply in love with you. He had been ever since you were kids, but as a boy who grew up barely knowing what kindness was, it was hard to seek out those emotions. Now looking back to how he felt when you ran away into the woods that night… he realizes the panic of finding your mother was so you would be found as quickly as possible. No one saw you for a week after that and he’s still not sure what happened, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

He was stronger now and he’d stand up to your demons, slaying them with you by his side. He would protect you no matter what, but right now he had to explain this misunderstanding before it was too late. Kissing you was the best thing to happen to him – accident or not. It made him forget how shitty his life was and how blissful it could be by just seeing you. He’d fucked up.

After cooling off you wandered back to the growing group of children that rush you when they spot you. It makes your heart warm that they’re so excited. Sanemi watches you from a distance and you’re glad he seems to finally be listening to you. 

Leading the kids to the mess hall through the light morning rain is more peaceful than it should be. No one tries to jump in the mud, they stay in between you and Sanemi, walking politely. When you explain in detail what they’re supposed to do all of them get to work using craft paper and whatever was leftover from the week. The morning blows past and suddenly you’re sitting in a seat next to Sanemi as groups of kids put on puppet shows. Some of them make you snort with laughter and others are downright works of art. Then, Hana and her group of friends present their show. A spikey white-haired puppet and one that looks eerily like you pop up into the makeshift theater. 

Your eyes widen realizing what’s going on. “Hi there darling! I sure do love your face!” Kenji yells, playing the white-haired puppet. 

Slowly you and Sanemi make eye contact. “We should love each other’s faces forever. Then love our baby’s faces. Then love our-”

You shoot into a standing position, clapping your hands together. “Okay, that’ll wrap up the puppet shows everyone!” You demand, laughing nervously. What the actual fuck? You whisk around to glare at Hana and Kenji dramatically making the two puppets kiss. “Oi, William Shakespear and Agatha Cristi get over here, now.” You point to the spot next to you and Sanemi. Akane and Mai scurry away with the rest of the kids heading toward the snack table. 

Kenji and Hana meander toward you; pouts puffing out their bottom lips. “Guys, you can’t keep doing this.” Sanemi gestures to the puppets on their hands. “Miss YN and I aren’t some story you can just use willy-nilly. We’re real people with real emotions.” 

A scoffed laugh falls from your lips. “Mister Sanemi has a hard time with emotions anyway, that’s why this show wasn’t even true to life. He would never call someone darling.” You explain dully. 

Hana shakes her head, pointing to Sanemi. “Nu-uh! He called you darling the other day!” She exclaims. You glance at Sanemi and then drag a hand down your face. 

“Hana, this isn’t something you should be concerned with.”

“But we just want you and Mister Sanemi to make up.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s no fun while you guys are fighting.” Your eyes bulge as she talks. Did the kids care that much? And they noticed? Gosh, that was kind of sweet. 

Sanemi leans forward, ruffling Hana’s hair. “Don’t worry about it kiddo, we’ll work on it.” He glances at you with a slight smile. A sigh rushes through you as you nod in agreement. Kenji and Hana rush off to the snack table to join their friends. You can remember a time when you and Sanemi played pranks on the camp leaders. A growing ache suffocates your next breath. You peek at him, wondering where things went wrong. Part of you was mad that he walked away after the kiss and another part was angry because you enjoyed it so much. No matter what happened it felt like you couldn’t be friends with him. It was like the universe was keeping you away from each other for a reason unbeknownst to you.

When you both get back to the cabin nothing gets talked about. It’s an awful feeling, like abandonment all over again. Sanemi didn’t care enough about you to talk or explain why he kissed you. Everything was so nice until that stupid kiss that you couldn’t stop thinking about. The fact that it was that good, yet lasted about two seconds drives you mad. 

It’s not until Saturday morning as the sky quakes with thunder and heavy rain, that you decide enough is enough. If he wasn’t going to talk to you, then you’d have to take it into your own hands. That was until there was a knock on your outside door. You get out of bed and open it to find Yena holding an umbrella. Her eyes are filled with some sort of sorrow as she blows out a heavy breath. “YN, deary, I need to speak with one of your kiddos. Can you bring Kenji to the main office? His mother is on the phone.” She explains, a sad smile creasing her lips. You nod your head, looking toward the cabin you knew Kenji was sleeping in. 

You look back to Yena, wondering how serious it was for her to be so affected by it. “Yeah. Let me get dressed and I’ll bring him over before 8.” You reply, a cool wash of anxiety coating your insides. Yena nods. 

“I’ll see you then.” She turns to leave, walking out into the downpour. You study her retreating form before shaking off the dreadful feeling that was wrapping around you. After slipping into a comfy pair of shorts and a hoodie you run over to cabin 3. 

Knocking on the door a sleepy boy answers the door. You recognize him as Mikey, one of Kenji’s close friends. “Hey Mikey can you get Kenji for me, please? Tell him to get dressed and meet me out here.” You explain and the little boy shuts the door. 

A couple of minutes later Kenji pops out of the door, eagerly running up to you. He hugs your legs and bounces up and down. “Are we going on a special mission Miss YN!?” He yells, grabbing onto your hand. For some reason your heart aches, sensing something is off.

You bend down to his level anyway, putting on your biggest grin. “We sure are! I needed my bravest soldier to help me on a secret quest.” Your face becomes stern and Kenji giggles, running around in a circle. 

“Don’t worry Miss YN! I’ll protect you! Did’ya know I’m stronger than Mister Sanemi!?” He squeals, punching the air. You stand up, laughing off his comment about your co-leader. All those years carrying you around and taking care of his little brother were bound to build up excess strength. Plus those muscles of his were no joke…

Kenji latches onto your hand again as you walk the path to the main office. It’s not raining as hard as it was moments ago, but thunder still rolls through the sky. You walk him through the main office door, Yena waiting behind the counter with the phone pressed to her ear. She spots Kenji and waves him over. He sends a look at you over his shoulder before releasing your hand to walk to Yena’s side. She hands him the phone and his face instantly drops.

The hands of your past crawl back into your stomach, clawing out anything good and leaving behind gouges of trauma, boiling toward your throat. Kenji’s eyes start trembling as he clutches the phone to his ear. “No! No! You can’t!” He suddenly yells, pushing the phone away from him, sobs flooding from his mouth. You take a step toward him but he angrily glares at you before bursting through the front door. Yena slumps defeatedly against the wall. 

You glance at the door still swinging shut. “Yena, what’s going on?” You inquire softly, terrified of the answer she’d give you.

She looks up, a pained expression taking the light away from her face. “Kenji’s parents are divorcing. His father isn’t going to be there when he gets back.” 

Her words coast around in your brain before you turn on your heel and bolt after Kenji. No, no, please no. The similarities between your past and this moment is laughable as you cut through the trees. Your eyes wildly search for little Kenji, anywhere, somewhere. Thunder claps above your head but you ignore it, traveling further into the woods. “Kenji!” You scream, rain spitting into your eyes. “Kenji please come back!” You yell, cupping your hands around your mouth. You feel empty, yet full of terror. The same way you felt back then when your mother kicked your dad out of your life. The man that would take care of you when your mother got too angry or too drunk. He was gone forever, your protector. Left you to be fed to the monsters your mother harbored. 

You split through a clearing, breathing heavily as the rain comes down with torrential intent. You feel like crying, screaming, throwing yourself off a cliff even, but you catch a glimpse of Kenji’s red shirt huddled up against the hallow of a tree. “Miss YN!” He cries, holding out his arms for you. “I’m scared.” You rush to his side, bringing him tightly to your chest. 

The both of you cling to each other under the cover of the tree, sobbing with the sky. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” You breathe, stroking his head. Kenji curls up in your arms, trembling with tiny hiccups. You knew these woods like the back of your hand, but as the rain blurs your vision the realization crashes over you. 

You had no idea where you were.

Sanemi watches the rain from his window, wondering what you were doing right now. He grunts as he slides off his bed, heading through the kitchen area to your door. He knocks lightly, aware that you might still be sleeping. “YN?” He calls out softly, but you don’t respond. He furrows his brows knocking harder. “YN?” His voice is firmer, but yet nothing comes from your room. He reached for the knob, twisting it open with ease. The door swings open revealing your empty room. He glances around, breathing in your scent and trying to push down the excitement of being in your personal space. He moves around your room, heading toward your outside door. He walks through it, feeling the cool breeze of the storm against his skin. 

Where were you? He spots a group of boys sitting outside their cabin. He jogs over to them through the rain, stopping under the cover of their deck. “What’cha up to?” Sanemi inquires, planning on asking them if they’d seen where you went. 

One of them looks at him. “Miss YN took Kenji and we’re waiting for him to come back because he wanted to play games with us.” He explains and Sanemi quirks a brow.

What was that about? “Do you know where?” Sanemi pushes. The same one that was talking to him shakes his head.

“They were headed toward the main office, but I’m not sure where exactly they were headed.” Sanemi thanks the group of boys before running toward the main office. When he swings open the door Yena is sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. She glances up when he walks further into the door. 

Her features soften, a worried expression crossing her face. “Oh Sanemi, thank goodness. I’m so worried.” She rises from her seat, crossing over the carpet to his side. 

A sense of dread hits the pit of his stomach like a weight of bricks. What was going on? Where were you? Why did Yena look so anxious? “What’s wrong?” Sanemi glances around the office, wishing that you’d pop out to surprise him. 

Yena places a hand on his shoulder, turning his attention back to her. “Kenji ran into the woods and YN followed him.” She explains. 

The feeling of concern amplifies as his blood cools. Not the woods again. “When?” He snaps, a strike of lightning illuminating the sky. Yena sighs, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

“About an hour ago,” She trails off, furrowing her brows together. “Sanemi, please, find them.” Without a second thought, he runs into the woods. A flash of when he was younger causes him to halt at the tree line. His heart is beating erratically in his chest as he stares through the trunks of thick forest. He’d been too scared to continue on back then, but you were probably frightened too. Who was he to love you if he couldn’t face your terror? It’s then that he lifts up his wrist to view the matching bracelet. He shakes off his nerves and starts jogging through the foliage.

The rain soaks through his shirt, slicking his hair to the side of his face. He had to find you. Just a week ago you nearly drowned on his watch because of a stupid bet and now you were lost in the woods during a strong storm. Were you trying to test his patience? No… you most likely ran after Kenji because of your inner child. Something wanted to heal that part of you. Being a child was difficult, especially when you were taught that emotions were wrong. 

Sanemi can remember the way your mother screamed as he pulled you angrily by your arm. Her grip left marks on you, red splotches of hatred spanning your tiny arm. She was cursing, screeching about how much of an embarrassment you were, if you loved your father so much then why didn’t you go find him? She was a pure blur of her past demons boiling up into one entity – against her own daughter. 

Now, he would plunge a sword through her heart and save you from the wild beast. Take you away somewhere safe. If only he’d understood more back then. It was all his fault. He had no right to have these feelings toward you when all he caused you was turmoil. Yet, he can’t help but see your smiling face, blushing cheeks, and sparkling eyes. The way you stop to smell the breeze of the lake. How joyful you are with the kids, genuinely caring for them. Your sassy remarks when he got too flirtatious with you. The way your lips felt against his in that blissful moment. He… truly loved you. Every ounce, curve, and flaw. “YN!” He screams, the beating of his heart echoing in his ears. 

Sanemi wants to tell you everything, instead of running to someone else. This was between you and him. He couldn’t last another second without telling you how much you meant to him. “YN! Where are you!?” He’s scanning the treeline, worry creasing his brows. 

You and Kenji still, then look at each other. “Is that Mister Sanemi?” He asks, eyes welling with tears again. You brush your thumb over his plump cheeks, soothing him.

It’s not helpful that your heart picks up its beating rate at the thought. Sanemi had come to find you – well you and Kenji. Regardless, you’re a little too happy about it. “Over here!” You scream, covering Kenji’s ears. 

Sanemi’s heart thumps against his ribcage as he hears you scream back for him. He glances around his surroundings, his eyes finally landing on a hint of red in the distance. “Hold on! I’m coming!” He charges toward the area your voice came from. 

He sees your face, a sloppy mess of tears and wet hair, and he wants to drop to his knees. “Thank goodness…” You whisper, letting Kenji run to hug Sanemi’s legs. His eyes are locked on your every movement, studying if you are okay. 

“We need to get you back, I don’t think you could’ve made it out of the forest.” Sanemi holds Kenji’s hand, waiting for you to start following him. Something holds you back though, a sinking feeling of guilt or shame – you weren’t sure which. 

You had cried and hidden away just like when you were younger. Sanemi didn’t come to save you… he came to prove a point. You were still just that little girl, running away from her problems. You’re silent the whole way back, emotions dancing with thoughts. Yena hugs you and then yells at you for running out without a map. Kenji is sent to get a check-up from Shinobu. Everything feels like it’s underwater, floating past you. Only when you’re in front of your cabin do you snap out of the daze, peering up at Sanemi. “You didn’t think I could make it out on my own…” You mutter. He turns to you, knitting his brows together. “I thought you were there to save me, but you were just there to prove that you could do it. It had nothing to do with me.” Your body feels frozen, numb even. 

Sanemi opens the door to his room. “That’s not it at all. Just give me a moment and we can talk about this later.” He replies, closing his door behind him. Later huh? You didn’t want later. Now was later. 

You rush to his door, swinging it open angrily. “No, you don’t get to walk away. We’re talking about this now.” You snap, taking in Sanemi without a shirt. Why did he always have no shirt on? You halt, mouth gaping. 

He sighs, tossing his wet shirt into his hamper. “Fine, you want to talk, let’s talk. It was careless of you to just run after Kenji like that.” He hisses, motioning to you. “Do you know how worried everyone was? I understand why you did it, but what if something had happened to the both of you? What then YN?” 

You march up to him, poking at his chest. “You don’t understand shit Sanemi! Kenji ran into the forest. What was I supposed to do? Stand there and wait for some big muscley man to go in and find him? I did what felt right and you cannot blame me for that!” Your voice is quaking, on the verge of tears. 

Sanemi scoffs, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m not blaming you! For fuck’s sake can you stop thinking that everyone is out to get you!? I am not your mother. I care about you and blame myself every fucking day for what happened back then.” Wow. Did he really just bring up your mother? A tormenting ache twists your gut, sucking up any energy you had left.

His nostrils are flaring and your body buzzes with a newfound heat. It’s anger, it’s sexual frustration, and its adrenaline all wrapped up into one. “Yeah well, you have a real funny way of showing how sorry you are. It’s so funny how you can kiss me one day and then act like nothing happened the next.” You laugh tightly and watch as his brows shoot up.

A sarcastic laugh bubbles out of his throat. “Unlike you, I don’t face everything head-on. I was terrified after I kissed you, because yes I kissed you. Do you have any idea how confusing it is to realize after all these years that I’m in love with you? Then to realize that I’ve fucked up so massively that there’s zero chance of anything ever happening?” He hisses, rolling his lips into a tight line after his confession. This wasn’t how he pictured telling you, but at least it was out there now for you to hear.

Your body tenses, staring at Sanemi with wild eyes. Love? He was in love with you? It was like a slap in the face and a warm blanket at the same time. “Then fucking change my mind,” You order. 

Sanemi’s eyes widen and his throat bobs with nerves. “Y’know I love it when you get bossy,” He whispers, grabbing your face with gentle vigor. The kiss starts off soft and genuine. Your hands travel into his soft hair, moaning lightly against his lips when his hands find their way to your ass. That’s when something animalistic awakens in the both of you. Sanemi spins you around and walks you back against the wall, pressing his knee between your legs. You groan through your mouth at the lovely pressure. 

His lips work against yours, deepening the kiss into something feral and needy. “God, I want you.” You huff out between a break. You feel a cocky smirk on your neck where Sanemi nips at the junction of your shoulder. All those times you imagined the quick peck between you both was nothing compared to this. Kissing Sanemi was like pouring hot magma onto a frozen lake. Your body was alive with pinpricks of electricity. 

You peer down, shakily watching him explore the planes of your body. This was all too much. He was someone you cherished, someone you hated… someone you – was it possible for you to even love someone? You care deeply for your friends, the kids, and this camp… but love? It's something so deep, so pure that it transcends everything. Did you love Sanemi Shinazugawa or were you crushing on him? The line was thin, but at the same time a cavern impossible to jump over. “Hey hey hey, where did you drift off to?” His voice breaks you out of the daze you were in. Your eyes blink up to meet his, soft and beautiful.

His warm hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “Do you need me to stop? I got caught up in my own selfish desires…” He trails off, looking away bashfully. Huh? Was this gruff man actually…adorable? 

Leaning into his hand you shake your head. “I was just thinking about insecurities,” You laugh, meeting his gaze. Sanemi’s face softens and for once you wish your home life had been different. There were times you were grateful that what happened to you made you stronger, more resilient to people’s bullshit. Spinning it into a postive made you think less about the trauma. Now… you want to be something soft Sanemi can mold with his love. You yearn to fall into his blanketed warmth where somehow you’d be safe. “But I’m better now.” You finish, realizing all at once that it didn’t matter if you loved him, because you could love him. Love was something you were able to feel, eventually, that is. He could teach you. “Sanemi, I really like you… do you think – do you think we could continue kissing?”

An airy laugh blows through his nose as he guides you into a sitting positon on his bed. “M’course, just let me know if you want to stop.” His eyes light up micheviously, bending down to peck your lips teasingly. He sinks to his knees, sliding his hands down your outter thighs. 

Sanemi was never someone you thought would stun you into silence, but as his gaze drops to the apex of your legs it suddenly becomes hard to speak. “What? Got no smart ass response?” He glances smugly up at you, rolling his tongue over his lips. Instead of replying you spread your legs apart for him. Your action brings his longing attention back to your clothed pussy, which clamps on nothing. “Mmm, I guess your body can do enough speaking,” He hooks a finger into your shorts, pulling them down your waist. “S’pretty.” He hisses, reveling in the way your panties cling to the dampness of your cunt. “All mine,” He’s muttering to himself like a mad man and maybe he was, but it brings a flush to your cheeks. 

You squirm to fling your short to the side of his room, wiggling out of your underwear next. He watches like he’ll die if he looks away. “Sanemi I can’t hold back, please, I need you to do something.” You give him enough room to stay between your legs. His smirk worries you only slightly.

He stands, the girth of his cock outlined in his pants. “Just remember you asked for this. We’ll have plenty of time to take it slow later, but right now I can’t wait anymore either.” His eyes are a dark brooding purple as he slips the belt out of its loops smoothly. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed. Your childhood friend was about to fuck your brains out and the fact that you’d been fighting only made the tension in the room that much thicker. 

Sanemi’s cock is longer than anyone you’d been with before and you can’t seem to look away from it. How the head weeps and is blush pink with untouched desire. He’s barely holding on, but the weight of reality slaps you across the face. “Do you have a condom?” You quip and he freezes. His cheeks blush as he glances at his nightstand. 

“Can’t think why I wouldn’t pack condoms coming to a job where I’ve never had sex before…fuck. I can stop if you want to, I wouldn’t dare-”

“Sanemi, I could care less. Right now all I want is you. We’ll figure it out together.” You grab the back of his neck to bring him in for a kiss. As his lips work against yours he lines himself up at your entrance, brushing the head of his cock against the slick of your arousal. He hisses into your mouth as the tip slips into your warmth. A shaky moan echoes through both of you as you push your foreheads together to watch his cock slide into your pretty pussy. 

You blow out a breath, throwing your head back in utter bliss. Sanemi fills you out beautifully, stretching your walls just enough to send shivers up your spine. “You feel perfect…you’re perfect,” Sanemi kisses you, slowly starting to move his hips. The muscles in your stomach tense with a hot iron of pressure. 

“Haa, Sanemi, please,” You begin but he snaps his hips into yours. A loud slap of skin rattles through his room. Your eyes go wide and a sharp gasp pushes through your body. 

He grins over you, sliding back on his knees and bringing you with him. “Mmm, shh babygirl, m’gonna take care of you.” He strings your legs over his hips, rocking you on his cock. 

Moans burst from your mouth as you cling to his neck. “F’ Sanemi,” You gasp, his cock plunging deeper into your pussy than the previous postion. 

“That’s it, let go pretty girl,” Sanemi burrows into you, a fucked out grin coating his lips. You feel like you’re almost split in two, but the sting bleeds into a sharp pleasurable throb. It radiates through your core, spreading tingles across your skin. Your head lolls to the side a bolt of electricity twisting around your stomach, coating it in the crashing waves of your climax. You’re both panting as Sanemi fucks into you, gripping your hips onto him. 

The overstimulation makes you squirm on top of him, but he chaces his own crest, finally finding it when you grip the back of his head, fisting his hair. Warm cum coats your insides, Sanemi gently laying you back down on the mattress. You feel gooey inside, but there’s a silent happiness that brings a smile to your face. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I promise next time I’ll last longer- I, I…shit let me go get you a rag.” Sanemi pushes himself up on his elbows but you caress his cheek, calming the anxious glaze in his eyes. 

“No, stay.” He’d finally found you… and you weren’t about to let him out of your sight for a long long time.  

[princessbrunette]

all of a sudden, jj suddenly felt severely underdressed in his black muscle tank and cargo shorts. it’s not that he hadn’t been in a strip club before, he’d just never come to see pogue!bunny!reader at her place of work.

you’d left your shoes at the chateau after one of the many infamous pogue parties that you’d been invited to. if it were any other kind of cheap shoes, you’d probably just said forget about it. but for some bizarre reason, you’d worn some of your prettiest shoes that cost you an arm and a leg from the bills thrown your way at the club, so you’d been damned if you let those just get tossed in the trash because guys don’t know the value of things.

jj had actually used it as an excuse to slide into your instagram dms. shooting you a super casual ‘hey, left your shoes at the chateau. want em back?’ to which you responded ‘my hero!!!! <3’ and so on. anyway, the agreement was — he’d bring your shoes to you on your break.

it’s not as grimy on the inside as it is on the outside, but he doesn’t have much time to look around before he’s hearing the slapping of bare feet through the hallway — and suddenly a scantily dressed figure is throwing itself into his arms in the dimly lit space.

“holy— jesus christ.” he catches you anyway, though you can tell he doesn’t know where to put his hands, settling on the fat just beneath your ass. he swore you were put on this earth to tempt him.

“you came!” you smile in that melodic voice, unhardened by your surroundings. hell, he nearly did come.

“well, you called.” he shrugs, trying to be all nonchalant about it. he swings the shiny pink heels around his fingers and you squeal, taking them from him. “yeah— so, uh— if that’s all i could probably just see myself ou—” he juts a thumb towards the exit, going to stuff one hand in his pocket and missing all together as he backs away. he wasn’t sure why he was being so awkward, aside from the fact you were just stood infront of him wearing a tiny little triangle bra and a g string.

“stay!” your brows furrow adorably and it physically pains his chest, infact — he’s pretty sure he had a physical reaction, face screwing up with a wince. how does one tell the girl he’s attracted to that if he stays any longer he will pop a hard on? “s’the least i can do. come watch the show. i can hook you up with wings and some beers for free?” you bat your faux-lashes, the glitter on your cheekbone glowing in the low lighting as you tilt your head sweetly, putting on a show to convince him.

“wings, beer n’ boobs? you’re talkin’ my language young lady.” he smirks, unable to hide his usual ways and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“yay, follow me!” you grip his hand, long acrylics scratching against his wrist and he rolls his lips together, eyes practically following each jiggle of your ass cheek as you walk before he even realises he’s in the main section. you settle him in, a little booth that usually probably occupies pervy businessmen— which really makes the blonde feel out of place. he came alone, and now he was sat here — occupying a booth. what kind of creep comes to watch strippers alone?

he’s about to jump up and make up an excuse to leave in pure embarrassment, but you’re smoothing your hands along his shoulders, batting your lashes and telling him you wish you could stay and chat but you’ve gotta go dance, and that his wings and beer will be coming soon. he blinks at you, under a trance and settles into the worn and suspiciously sticky leather arm chair.

soon you’re up on that stage and he wants to sink into the fucking ground. you’re unbelievably hot, and now it’s like something out of a porno he made in his mind, watching you saunter around the pole, dropping down to the ground and arching your back, shaking the meat of your ass effortlessly as faceless men throw money your way. he had nothing to throw but some receipts and old nickels in his pockets and he didn’t think you’d appreciate that — which didn’t matter anyway, because he was somewhat stuck to his seat.

he lifts his hands to adjust his cap before realising he’s not wearing one, and just as he realises his dick is sitting hot, heavy and hard in his shorts— you’re off stage, bounding over with everything jiggling. lord help him.

he thinks he might die when you clamber confidently onto his lap, straddling him front on.

“so how was it jayj did you like it? i know it’s a lil’ weird seeing me up there, i’m your friend n’all but was the song choice good atleast?” you tilt your head like a befuddled puppy dog before wriggling around— crotch to cock. “oh, nevermind. i can feel that you’re like super hard so i take it that you liked the show!” you smile, like you’d just said the most innocent sentence in the world. jj blinks, lips agape.

“uh— y—no, yeah it was… well, y’know. the body doesn’t lie.” he bucks his hips lightly in gesture before immediately internally questioning why he’d do something so creepy. luckily, you giggle — but he’s not sure if it’s because you liked it or because you’re well trained.

“well, next time you get paid come get a lapdance i’ll fix that problem jayj, even give you a discount.” you let that giggle slip through again, but there’s a breathiness to your tone that feels all too real. his brows jump up, eyes flickering unashamedly to your tits as you lean forward to his ear. “or jus’ get me drunk again next weekend? will probably do it for free ‘cus i like you.” you admit, looking all nervous when you pull back. you just shook your ass on stage, yet jj maybank was making you flustered.

“for sure. yeah uh— can… can definitely do that. yep.” he plays it calm and collected, sees you out with another bone crushing hug against your tits before speed walking to his company truck that he drove over here. his shift was over, so he wasn’t rushing to get back to work. moreso to beat off in the parking lot thinking about pulling that g-string of yours to the side.

[laursdomain]

i lost something, but not you

pairing: sawyer henrick x fem!reader

genre: angst & fluff

synopsis: The Battle of Basgiath was brutal, to say the least. Sawyer Henrick lost a leg, and you aren’t sure how to deal with the aftermath of it. The only thing you can truly do for him is be by his side during the entire process, comforting him though his new developments.

warnings: takes place during end of IF, established relationship, mentions of injuries, anxiety, overthinking, fluff at the end, happy ending!

w/c: 2.0k

a/n: just a lil smth i wrote during my study break

ྀིྀིsawyer henrick masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰

To say you were frantic was an understatement. You had no idea what had happened with Flame Section’s Second Squad during the Battle of Basgiath. Dain Aetos had assigned your own squad to a completely different area, covering a less vulnerable spot for the war college. You had no idea that when you had landed on your dragon, hoping to find your boyfriend, you would instead be approached by Ridoc Gamlyn, breaking the news to you.

Sawyer had gotten wounded.

Badly.

He lost a leg, Ridoc says. 

You didn’t even let him tell you how it happened, all that was running through your head was that you needed to get to Sawyer, and you needed to get to him now. You ran past him, ignoring Ridoc as he shouts your name from behind. You make it to the healers quadrant in record time, practically running on new adrenaline. Your eyes dart everywhere, not sure where he could be. You don’t see anyone you recognize, noting how Rhiannon Matthias, his squad leader, wasn’t even present while he was here.

Eventually, your eyes fall on a pair of light blue robes, noticing a healer putting some paperwork down at the main table. You don’t waste any time, quickly approaching her.

“Excuse me,” you get the healer’s attention, her head whipping up at the sound of your voice. “Can you point me in the direction of one of your patients?”

“What’s their name?” She questions, moving behind the desk to access all the records.

“Cadet Sawyer Henrick.” You speak, balling your fists as your fingertips bite into your skin. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.

She looks through a couple of files, finally finding his file. You hold your breath, fearing the worst. Was Rhiannon not here because he didn’t make it? Would Ridoc have told you first-hand he hadn’t made it? Maybe Ridoc didn’t know the answer himself, and is simply a messenger.

“Ah, I see. May I ask what’s your relationship to the patient? I apologize, it’s protocol.” She gives you a sympathetic smiling, knowing how badly you want to see Sawyer.

You take a deep breath, leveling yourself. You knew you needed to keep your anger in check, being rude and angry would get you nowhere. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“Got it.” She scribbles something down, presumably your status to him. “He’s currently in surgery, but the moment the leading healer is out of surgery, I’ll have him inform you of everything since you are the closest thing to family.”

“You can’t tell me yourself?” The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, yet you don’t regret it.

“I’m not one of the healers on the case, so I don’t know the full specifics of it. I don’t want to give you any wrong information, but as far as I know, he’s staying strong throughout the surgery.”

You nod, not really taking in her words. 

“You’re more than welcome to have a seat, or we can have a healer come find you when he’s out of surgery.”

“I’ll stay,” you whisper, loud enough for the healer.

She gives you a sympathetic nod, watching as you slump down into one of the uncomfortable waiting seats in the quadrant, mindlessly watching as blue robes pass by you in a hurry, attending to the multitude of injured cadets from the battle. You allow yourself to cry silently, praying to Amari that Sawyer will survive this. You aren’t sure what you’d do if he didn’t make it, and you pray that you don’t have to live through that. You can’t imagine a world in which you live without your Sawyer. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there, but it’s long enough for your ass to be numb and for there to be no more tears to shed. It isn’t until an older man with dark blue robes approaches, bending down to get your attention. Once he does, he rises back to his full height with a tight-lipped smile.

“You’re Cadet Y/L/N?” He questions, taking in your riders uniform.

You stand, he was probably the head healer for Sawyer, right? “Yes, that’s me.”

He curtly nods, “I’ve been told you are here for Cadet Sawyer Henrick?”

“Yes, is he okay?”

“He made it through surgery,” his words ease over you, calming your racing heart. You knew there was a but, though all that mattered to you was that he was alive. “He had a very severe injury. One that’ll change his life.”

You furrow your brows, “how bad is it?” The healers were a powerful quadrant, to say the least. Considering how powerful riders could be, you assumed it’s possible for them to reattach a lost limb.

“He lost his leg, along with a handful of blood. We were able to close the wound, but he’ll have to get used to not having one.” The words hit you like a truck, not sure how to process it. Your mind went straight to Sawyer, you knew how distraught he’ll be. He bleeds rider, and you know that this changes everything about his future. The healer doesn’t say it, but you know he’s saying he’ll never be able to ride his dragon again.

You gulp, feeling pins and needles go down your throat. “Can I see him?”

The healers nods, leading you to one of the bays, enclosed by a light blue curtain. The healer grips one of the ends of the curtain, hesitating. “He’s not awake. Try not to freak out.” With that, he opens the curtain, allowing you to step inside before giving you privacy by closing the curtain behind you.

You understood why he told you not to freak out. You were grateful you weren’t there when it had happened, because if you could barely stomach it now, you wouldn’t have been able to in the moment. He was switched out of his flight leathers for a blue hospital gown, but you could see his flight jacket draped over the chair next to his bed. You assumed his leathers had gotten ruined from the injury—most like discarded or burned by the healers. You eyes trail down to his leg, tears prickling at your eyes at the sight of his leg ending at his knee. 

The wound was bandaged, but you knew there was a very prominent line from sewing his skin together. Seeing the difference between his wounded leg and his uninjured leg was startling. You weren’t disgusted or repulsed, just startled. You stepped forward, past his legs and towards his upper body. Other than his leg, he was perfectly fine. With the small space between his hip and the end of the bed, you sit there. Watching him. 

Eventually, you pluck up the courage to cup his jaw, feeling the warmth under his skin and feeling his pulse under your pinky fingers that lay directly above his pulse. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding—relieved. You find yourself laying your forehead against his, allowing the feeling of his presence to ground you from the aftermath of the battle.

You stayed like that with him for a while. You knew it’d be a couple of hours until he awoke from the pain medicine they administered to him during surgery. You never left his side, and only because the healers pitied you—they allowed you to stay overnight even though it was strictly forbidden. 

You didn’t move from your spot. 

You didn’t take your eyes off of Sawyer.

When your eyes started to become too heavy, you nearly succumbed to sleep until you felt it. Sawyer was stirring in your hands, lightly groaning. He was slowly coming out of dreamland, and any weight of sleeping quickly dissipated as you watch your boyfriend. You anxiously wait, wait for his eyes to open. You keep your hands where they are, hoping they help ground your boyfriend as he awakes from his surgery. 

Then it happens.

You see his oh so beautiful pale blue eyes open, blinking away sleep as he takes in his surroundings. Your posture straightens, waiting for him to adjust to the light before his eyes fall on you. A sleepy smile coats his face, moving his hands to rest on your waist.

“Sawyer,” you whisper his name, disbelieved he’s actually awake. You can’t stop the tears that well up in your eyes, a couple dropping onto your cheeks.

He frowns, bringing up a hand to wipe away the tears with his calloused thumbs. “Why are you crying?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I was scared.” 

“Scared of what?”

“That you were gone,” you confess, thankful the remaining patients were sound asleep—voluntarily or involuntarily. 

Sawyer gives you his usual reassuring smile, one that you swore can stop wars. “I’m right here, sunshine.” 

You smile, dropping your head into his neck. He welcomes your embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sighs out in content. You weren’t sure if he was simply ignoring the fact that his leg was gone or simply didn’t realize. You knew you’d have to tell him, but for now—you let him hold you. You both needed it. 

“I won’t ride again, will I?” Sawyer whispers after a couple of moments.

“The healer didn’t say,” you speak, trying to give him some hope. You tried recalling any historical texts you’ve read, trying to find a rider who was still able to ride their dragon after losing a leg—but you come up short. He could be the first.

“So that’s a no,” he dryly chuckles, and you can tell he’s holding back tears. You wish you could do something to help him. You knew there was nothing you could do but comfort him, the same way he has comforted you since threshing. 

You sit up, leaving his embrace. You cup his cheeks, noticing how glossy his eyes are since waking up. “If there’s anyone who can ride again after losing a leg, it’s you,” you whisper, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes. 

“You don’t know that,” a tear escapes from his eye, sliding down his freckled cheek.

You kiss the tear away, “yes I do. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“Sliseag doesn’t need to be embarrassed by me,” he mumbles, casting his eyes down.

“Hey,” you force him to look at you, mimicking his own actions to you. “Unless Sliseag says it, it’s not true. Any dragon would be proud to allow the first amputated rider to ride them.”

Sawyer’s pale blue eyes gaze into your own, holding your stare. Eventually, he nods. You aren’t sure if he believes your words or is simply agreeing because he has no energy to argue about it—but he accepts defeat. 

“Can you stay? I don’t want to be alone,” he whispers, vulnerability lacing his tone.

“I’m never leaving your side, Sawyer. Prepare to get tired of me,” you tease, dipping down to place a soft, loving kiss on his lips. 

He laughs at your antics, breaking the kiss. “I lost something today, but it wasn’t you. I love you, sunshine.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible,” he retorts, earning a giggle from you.

You don’t argue back, you simply wrap your arms around his neck again, cuddling his face into your neck. You couldn’t really hold him yourself from his injury, and you didn’t want to move him without knowing it’s okay. So you settled on the position you two were in, and as long as Sawyer was content, so were you. He let out a contented sigh into your neck, nuzzling his nose into your skin. His arms wrap firmly around your waist, using your presence to ground himself. He was alive. He places a soft kiss on your neck, nuzzling closer to you before his breathing evens out, falling asleep. You fall asleep with him, finally able to succumb to sleep knowing he was okay.

Sawyer would ride again, you were sure of that. There is no other rider capable of doing so than him. And you would be right by his side during the entire process, cheering him on like he always does for you. 

✰ ✰ ✰

[honeydippedfiction]

Congrats on 1k lovely!!!! Your works are so good, I think I might be addicted lol.

For the special can I get Herbo with 5 and 9 from the Established Relationship list? 🩷

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

#5. Learning to do your hair. & #9. Using your partner's phone and discovering a note that has all of your likes/dislikes/food orders etc. written

Justin Herbert x black!femreader

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Justin Herbert had faced edge rushers and blitzes that gave lesser quarterbacks nightmares, but standing in the softly lit bathroom of the home he shared with his girlfriend, he held a wide-tooth comb like it was a foreign object. The bottle of leave-in conditioner in his other hand felt more like a potion from an unfamiliar world than a haircare essential.

Across from him, perched on the edge of the bathtub with her freshly washed, coily hair sectioned and clipped into four even parts, she arched an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Okay,” she said, handing him a detangling brush for reinforcement, “you’re on back section duty. I already twisted the front. Just start from the ends and work your way up. And be gentle, please. My scalp’s not a defensive line.”

Justin smiled, shaking his head as he knelt behind her. “I’m trying, babe, but you know this is more complex than any NFL playbook I’ve seen.”

She laughed, and the sound bounced off the tiled walls. “Then you better study up, QB1. My hair doesn’t care about your quarterback rating.”

He leaned forward, inhaling the scent of her—coconut and something warm and honeyed, like home. “Fair enough. But you better give me a grade at the end.”

“You’ll get a grade and an attitude if you mess up my parts.”

With a chuckle, he carefully began working the conditioner through the ends of one thick, springy section. He respected this process—how intentional it was, how rooted in care and ritual. Wash day wasn’t just about hair. It was about restoration. About taking time.

It was sacred.

And today, for the first time, she had invited him into it.

For the next few minutes, the bathroom filled with a quiet rhythm—the gentle pull of the comb through curls, the occasional “Ow—watch it!” from her, and Justin’s sheepish “Sorry, sorry!” like a man trying to disarm a bomb he barely understood.

Somewhere between finger-detangling and parting, his phone buzzed where it sat charging on the counter. He ignored it at first, too focused on the section he was working through—its tight curls reminding him of tiny springs, beautiful and complex.

Then it buzzed again. And again.

“Hey,” he said, pausing with the comb halfway through her hair, “can you check that? Hands are kinda full.”

Y/N leaned over and grabbed his phone, her fingers slick with oil and cream. “You sure? This feels like a trap. If I see something scandalous, I reserve the right to throw it in the sink.”

He grinned. “Go ahead. It’s probably just my agent. And while you're at it, can you put on some music? This silence is making me nervous. Feels like I'm being judged by your ancestors.”

“Trust me, they are watching,” she teased, unlocking his phone. “And judging your parting skills.”

As she swiped to the messages, a notification from his Notes app caught her attention—just a line at the top of the screen, no title, just a glimpse:

“Y/N’s coffee order: matcha, oat milk, half sweet…”

Curious, she tapped.

What opened wasn’t just a note.

It was a love letter in bullet points.

Y/N – Things to Remember

Favorite coffee: oat milk matcha, half sweet

Eggs: always with green hot sauce

Wash day: Sundays. Be patient. Let her guide you

Doesn’t like mushrooms, loves shrimp tacos

Music: old-school R&B in the morning, jazz at night

Pancakes over waffles. Always.

Don’t touch her hair unless she invites you

Laughs hardest at dumb puns

Skincare = gospel. Never finish her cleanser

Movie that makes her cry every time: Eternal Sunshine

Gets quiet when overwhelmed. Just hold her. No advice.

Dog person. Like... capital-D Dog Person

Loves the beach but won’t swim past her waist

Never says no to a bookstore date

Favorite flower: marigolds, even though she says she doesn’t care about flowers

Smells like coconut oil and warmth

Twist-outs = magic. Twist-outs = science. Respect the twist-out.

She stopped reading halfway through, her fingers hovering over the screen, heart caught in her throat.

He hadn’t just been listening—he had been remembering. Writing it down. Studying her like a language he was determined to become fluent in.

Behind her, Justin was still carefully combing through a stubborn coil, humming softly under his breath. He didn’t even know what she’d found.

“Jus,” she said, her voice quieter than before, “what is this?”

He looked up in the mirror, confusion crossing his face until he saw what she was holding.

“Oh,” he said, ears reddening. “That’s just... something I started a while ago. I didn’t want to forget the little things.”

Y/N turned on the stool to face him, cradling his phone as if it were something precious.

“You wrote all this down. For me?”

“I mean, yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck with the hand not holding the comb. “I know I’m not exactly an expert on... well, anything in your world. But I wanted to understand. Not just your hair stuff, but you. All of you.”

Her eyes shimmered, and she blinked quickly, swallowing hard.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“Done what?”

“Paid attention like that.”

He took the phone from her gently, setting it aside. Then he cupped her face with one hand, the other still resting in the middle of a half-detangled twist.

“Well,” he said softly, “you matter to me. I want to know how to love you right. Even if it starts with green hot sauce and Sunday hair routines.”

For a long, quiet moment, she just looked at him. At the man who could throw a football sixty yards downfield under pressure, but still sat here now, gently separating her coils with reverence and curiosity.

She reached up and kissed him, slow and sweet, her hand curling around the back of his neck.

“I love you,” she whispered when they pulled apart.

“I love you too,” he murmured. “Even if your hair is winning this round.”

She laughed, the sound more open now, full of something lighter. Happier. “You’re not doing too bad. You get, like, a solid B-plus. Maybe even an A-minus if you stop yanking.”

He looked mock-offended. “Yanking? I’m working with the precision of a neurosurgeon over here.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said, turning back around.

He smiled to himself, applying more leave-in conditioner to the next section.

Outside, the sun began to set, casting golden light through the window. Inside, the scent of coconut and lemongrass floated through the air, mingling with the soft crackle of an R&B playlist Y/N had queued up after all.

It wasn’t just wash day anymore.

It was something else entirely—something tender and unfolding. A small ritual turned into a shared act of care. A reminder that love, real love, was made up of these moments: fingers learning curl patterns, memories folded into notes, and the quiet miracle of being fully seen.

And in that little bathroom, in the calm between rinses and twists, Justin Herbert knew: this was the most important play he’d ever run.

[z0mbiekisses]

Short imagine/one shot of Josh and reader where she’s the videographer for a festival they’re playing and he sees her and asks her to come backstage and they go from friends to lovers over the week long festival. Maybe on the last day he asks her to continue on tour with them?

Hehe I need someone to write my requests while I write other requests 😁😁

HELLOO P!! 🤗 thank you sm for being my first request i’m sooo excited!! hopefully it’s not too long 😅 if it wasn’t for your work i don’t think i’d ever have the motivation to write so just know your work doesn’t go unnoticed && i’ll always write your requests 🫡

as for anyone else reading this i hope you enjoy this as well!!(: i haven’t wrote an imagine in so longgg, so hopefully it’s good!! my requests are open 🫶!

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

VIDEOTAPE !

i’ve always loved filming. whether it was my friends goofing around or my cats simply existing in their space peacefully. i love just being able to capture the moment then and there. i also love music. concerts are my number one happy place. who knew that two of my favorite things could turn into a career?

i was doing an apprenticeship for this photography company. this week, i’m going to the music festival the town did every summer. except this time i’m able to be the videographer for one of the main stages! i was stoked to say the least.

it was the first day, i spent the morning helping set up the stage i’ll be filming for the next 6 days. since this stage was more for the “bigger acts.” no one was scheduled to perform till 3. after i was done, i went to explore the festival a bit before i was gonna be stuck at the same stage for hours. as i was grabbing a drink, i noticed a guy next to me in line at the taco truck. his hair was black with red underneath it. his black tanktop showing off his colorful tattoos. he must've noticed me staring. he looked over and flashed a smile at me. it was contiguous, i instantly smiled back at him before my drink was handed to me. i walked away hoping i'd run into this handsome stranger. that i'd find him in the crowd of thousands of people..

the only downside to being a videographer is not being able to dance around to the music. i had to make sure my videos were the best quality, trying hard to catch the peak moments of each artist's set. however, i was able to be in front of the crowd. only people in my section were other photographers/videographers and security. it was also nice hearing new music. most of the bands i was familiar with were playing later in the festival. and luckily for me i only work two nights. the last band set to play was about to come on. i looked behind me and saw the crowd double in size. whoever was about to play must be popular. a red light came on the stage, shining on a guy wearing a ski mask. i watched as he walked over to the drum kit on the stage. people in the crowd were screaming. i listened to the drummer, he was one of the best so far. i then eventually the singer came on stage, also wearing a ski mask. and the music started blaring. let me tell you, these guys knew how to put on a show. it was the hardest set yet for me to NOT dance and jump around. eventually the drummer took off his ski mask, and it was the same guy i saw in line. during the show he recognized me and smiled. which i made sure to get on film, even though it caught me off guard that he even remembered me from our brief interaction.

this show was my favorite to film. these guys knew how to put on hell of a show. some of my best footage came from their set. i quickly learned the drummer's name was 'josh dun." who i admired the whole night. his eyes would seem to find me, making sure to flash a grin or do some sort of pose for me..and the camera of course. and every time i felt my heart flutter. their set was over and as i was getting ready to head back to my tent a security guard caught my attention. he said i was asked to be somewhere. i had not a clue where they were dragging me to. nonetheless, i hopped on the golf cart, making sure to film the different bright neon displays that shined through the dark open field. they brought me to a fancy tent. it was huge, there was a soft glow from all of the fairy lights. giving a nice soft ambience. i began to fidget with the rings on my fingers. still unsure on what this place is and why i was here. until the same guy with black and red hair came up to greet me. i somehow felt relieved yet so much more nervous.

“i hope this is okay, i wanted to talk to you but i didn’t want to hope that i’d run into you again.”, josh chuckled nervously.

“duh, who doesn’t like backstage passes.”, i laughed softly. hoping i wasn’t making a fool out of myself.

“i’m josh by the way.”, he smiled once again. reaching out his hand.

“y/n”, i shook his hand. i looked up into his brown eyes. i was admiring his features, from his long eyelashes to his soft lips. i looked away to prevent myself from looking like a total creep. he brought me over to one of the many couches and sat with me. we talked about our careers, and what made us chose them. i enjoyed listening to him talk about something he was passionate about. the way his eyes would squint up whenever he got excited. i barely know this man.. but good god. i thought he looked good on stage, glistened in sweat & his hair damp. but seeing him get so happy was so attractive.

i spent the next 24 hours thinking about josh dun. i sadly didn’t run into him the next day at the festival, but my work was able to occupy MOST of my mind. however it was officially the 3rd day, and my first day off duty. i traded my athletic leisure for something more festival appropriate. i decided on a short sparkly black dress that had silver moon & stars printed over it. as i was walking around the festival that night, i felt someone tap my shoulder. which honestly scared me a little bit until i turned around and saw josh.

“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you.”, josh must’ve noticed me jump. i wrapped my arms around him. normally i’m not big on hugs. but once again, there was something about him.

“i missed you pretty girl.”, he mumbled against my neck. i couldn’t hide my blush as i pulled away. we talked about our plans yesterday and how we just barley missed an encounter with each other every time. i brought him over to charli xcx’s set. i was nervous he was going to be one of those guys who just stands there and silently judges you for dancing. but josh jumped up and down with me, in my mind it was just me & him. he occasionally would hold onto my waist from behind as we danced together. which flooded my stomach with butterflies. afterwards, i followed him to the stage where one of his favorite bands were playing; death cab for cutie. he held my way the whole way through as we navigated the crowds. josh was also able to get us into vip, which i’ve been in before for work. but this was so much better. being able to relax and really enjoy the music. josh’s hands never left mines. i felt safe besides him. i smiled as i watched him sing along to the music, clearly enjoying himself. of course, i had to get it on camera. to which josh started singing to when he finally noticed. i never wanted this night to end. josh walked me back to where my cab was. i looked up at him for a moment. i wanted to kiss him. everything in that moment was screaming at me to do so. but i was so worried about messing things up that i just stared at him.

“i had so much fun with you tonight, you’re really cool y/n.”, i smiled sweetly at josh’s compliment.

“thanks, you’re not too bad yourself joshua.”, i responded which earned a chuckle from josh. we continued to look at each other, not wanting to leave but unsure what to do next.

“maybe i could have your number? you know, so you can send me that video of me singing.”, josh tried to play it off. i giggled and typed my number in his phone.

the fourth day, i decided to go for a more spacey look. i wore a silver shimmery dress & i put star glitter in my space buns. of course, i met up with josh again. who i got to match with me. he was wearing a white t-shirt with an alien on it.

“you look better each time i see you i don’t get it.”, josh’s compliment made my cheeks heat up. it was almost embarrassing the effect this man had on me. but i didn’t mind it. we ran around the festival, trying random foods & messing around with the different photo ops. we even met up with his bandmate, tyler and his girlfriend jenna. me and her instantly clicked, as if we were best friends in another universe. it was amazing, i never thought this would happen. eventually we parted ways and josh dragged me to the goo goo dolls set. our hands still intertwined. i closed my eyes and moved side to side as i listened to iris, one of my favorite songs. josh pulled me in closer to his side. i looked up at him, meeting his warm brown eyes again.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that right y/n?”, i bit my lip slightly trying to surpress the huge grin on my face. before i could say anything else i could feel josh leaning into me. his lips met mine and my heart was practically beating out my chest. i wasted no time running my hair through his soft curls. josh grabbed my waist and pulled me in closer to him. i dreamed of moments like these. we both had the biggest smiles on our face as we pulled away. josh walked me to my cab again, josh was telling me they were going to start their tour soon. i felt sad. sure, maybe it was naive of me to think this could be anything long term. but this week had been so amazing, the thought of it being over hurt. and knowing josh would be gone for months hurt even more. there was a bit of silence as we were walking, i didn’t have much to say this time around. josh stopped me, holding my hands in front of him.

“okay this may sound crazy, you can say no.”, josh warned me. i could tell he was nervous to ask me. i watched his face as he tried to find the words in his head.

“we need a videographer for our tour, our usual one wife just had a baby so.. would you be interested in being our videographer?”, my face lit up.

“yes!”, i exclaimed. i hugged josh tightly. he spun me around as we giggled together out of excitement. josh kept his arms around me & pulled me in again. our lips crashing together. i was looking forward to having more moments like these over the next 4 months.

[grim-reapers-wife]

Interview (Loki x Reader)

Does anyone remember the Andrew Garfield interview where he said the most swoon worthy things about Emma Stone?

Here’s the link 🔗

Well that’s what inspired this!

Summary: Tony is hosting a ball of sorts for the team and he’s really going out. Fancy champagne, floor length dresses, custom suits, a red carpet entrance with paparazzi and interviewers. Loki gets asked about his relationship with you and gives a heartfelt speech.

P.S. In my first fanfic I used a fem reader but in this one I made sure I wasn’t using a specific gender. I’ll mostly do fem x characters because I’m fem, but I noticed that this one was super easy to make inclusive. All genders are welcome here! I’ll start putting a disclaimer for what gender I’m writing for. I want to be as inclusive as I can and no race is mentioned in either, I believe. Inclusivity matters so I hope I’m not targeting one audience. ❤️

____________________________________________

💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚

Your POV.

“Over here, over here!” The paparazzi cameras flash bright lights in my eyes. I smile and pose along the red carpet Tony had set up in preparation for his Gala.

Flash, Flash, Flash

I’m wearing the most flattering outfit and beautiful jewelry, as payed for by Tony. I pose again before getting to a calmer part of the carpet, taking a deep breath and walking.

“Over here!” An interviewer ushers me over. “How are you enjoying the carpet?” He holds the microphone out for me. “Good, good. I felt like a total celebrity out there.” I laugh a little. “And how is working with the Avengers? Do you enjoy it?” It doesn’t take much time for my answer to come. “It’s wonderful, it’s like working with all of your best friends, but instead of paper work; we’re making the world a better place.” I answer a couple more questions and head to the main event.

I walk into the building Tony has reserved for the night. The shining chandelier sparkles across the room, making everything feel even more magical. Everyone looks amazing, I see Steve chatting up Bucky at a table and Vision and Wanda chat by the dance floor. I saunter over to the bar and grab a drink before heading to my friends.

Loki’s POV.

I frown at the paparazzi flashes. Midgardians are so strange about capturing moments, why not paint a portrait? I suppose this is just the way they are.

I pose for a couple of photos, per Tony’s request, then walk into a separate section of the carpet for interviews. None of the questions are of any substance until one of the interviewers peak my interest.

“How would you describe your partner? Y’all have been together for almost a year now, yes?” The interviewer hands me a device I am told will capture my voice.

“It’s wonderful, I’ve never met a person who I connect so deeply with, I especially never thought it would be a Midgardian. I’ve never met someone so amiable before. It’s like laying out in the sun on a warm day, just soaking up the sun. Like reading your favorite book, or eating your favorite food. I’m fully enamored, and truly in love.”

The interviewer brings his own sound device, which I am told is a microphone, to his lips. “Wow, I think everyone watching just fell in love!” I roll my eyes at the interviewer. “They don’t stand a chance against my love.”

I look into the building where the main event is being held and I find the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen staring back at me, and I immediately know whose they are. I smile and when I get a smile back, I know that I’ve never been more in love with another.

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💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚

Congrats on making it the end!! 🎉 🍾 If you made it this far I hope you enjoyed it and if you didn’t, feel free to leave KIND constructive feedback. I’ll always be open to tips and recommendations. Per usual don’t mind any grammatical errors! I’m definitely just doing this for fun. Thanks for reading!

[depoemdawg]

Unveil (pt. 2)

Part 1

Part 3

Character: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N, the self-appointed explorer of Hogwarts, finds herself investigating a mysterious new Slytherin student and his unknown connection to the ghost in the Room of Requirements.

Author's Notes: I bet you guys are wondering where the romance in this story is. I am too. I'm just a huge main-plot adventure, side-plot romance typa gal. There will be more chemistry in the next part. I promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time I scanned the entirety of the book shelves in the restricted section of the library, I only found one book that could help me figure out who the ghost in the room of requirement was.

Salazar Slytherin.

That’s it, that’s the title. No wonder Slytherins aren’t known for their creativity.

It certainly wasn’t a coincidence that the door to the room of requirement had the snake on it. The ghost inside the room reeked of dark magic, it was written all over his sunken appearance. Not to say that Slytherins are the only ones to practise dark magic, but Salazar Slytherin sure did. If anyone had any idea about secret slytherin rooms, it was him. And I’m also willing to bet that he knows the ghost.

I sat on the dusty dark oak table in the corner of the library. My gaze darts across the library, clearing the coast before I dive into reading the book.

Salazar Slytherin was a shady dude. To put it lightly. From practising dark magic and teaching his students it to his insistence on the pureness of magic blood. He was not unfamiliar with constantly breaking rules and having controversial opinions. He’s precisely the reason why his house, Slytherin, has an “evil” reputation. Salazar has had the habit of having secret caves in Hogwarts, namely the Chamber of Secrets, but it doesn’t mention anything about the Room of Requirements or any ghosts.

I groan and cover my face with my hands, there is nothing here. I’ve hit a dead end. I shake my head and get up. There must be something else I’m missing. 

Who could’ve made this room?

Crap. It’s been in front of me the entire time. 

It’s the ghost, isn’t it?

I can’t go back. I can’t. I’m not doing it. I will never ever talk to that demonic, ghastly, paralyzingly terrifying ghost again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can ghosts eat?” I stare at the pumpkin pie on my plate.

Ginny drops her fork on her plate and stares at me. “Y/n. No.”

“Okay.” I shrug innocently but when Ginny starts eating again, I decide to open my mouth again. “Say, you needed to bribe a ghost.”

“Y/n, is this about Dean?” She groans. “Please don’t bribe a ghost to kill him, please.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, thank you for that. Tell Dean to watch his back.” I grin. “But no.”

“What’s this about?” Ginny narrows her eyes at me, her attention fully on me.

“I met a ghost. I’m in love. I think he could be the one.” I give her a tight smile.

She rolls her eyes and looks at me in disbelief. “Oh my god.” 

“Please?” I plead, giving her my best puppy eyed look.

She caves in. “Ghosts usually have unfinished business right?”

“Yeah….?”

“Well, ask him what his unfinished business is and offer to help.”

“That is such a good idea, Ginny. I love our lunch talks.” I pull her into a rib crushing hug.

“You would die without me, you know that, right?” She pats my back, cringing from the pain.

“You never fail to remind me!” I take my plate of pie and leave the great hall.

“Y/n.” I hear my name being called as I step out of the hall.

“Mattheo.” I turn around to look at him and tilt my head in confusion. “You know who I am?”

“I have my ways as you do, I’m sure.” He jogs and catches up to me. In this light, I notice the scar on his nose. As well as the loose tie around his neck and untucked shirt. He looked like he just got out of bed…or out of a fight. 

“That’s suspicious, you know.” I give him a pointed look, walking down the hallways.

He throws his head back and groans. “What’s going to get you to trust me?” 

“Depends, why do you want me to trust you?” I stop and narrow my eyes at him. 

“I want to be your friend.” He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“You already have as many friends as you could ever need.” I turn and keep walking without sparing him a glance.

“I’m not going to stop following you.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

We both stop and look at each other, him grinning in victory.

I glare at him, weighing the pros and cons of having him with me. Pros? He might offer a different perspective, a Slytherin perspective. I could also get to know him and find out what he’s hiding. Cons? He could murder me, in cahoots with the creepy ghost man, and hide my body.

“Do you have experience in murder?”

He freezes and blinks, looking around the hallway and then turning his gaze back to me. Mattheo clears his throat and leans in with wide eyes, “in real life?” As he leans in, I realise that his cheeks are lightly covered in freckles. Huh. Didn’t notice that before. I’m shaken out of my daze when I'm hit with the realization of what he said.

“Real life?” I question in disbelief. “No, in bloody quidditch. Yes, real life!” I scoff and shake my head for what seemed like the millionth time. “Fine.”

Mattheo chuckles and straightens his posture, regaining his confidence. He was entirely too confident for his own good. “Right, where are we going?”

“Don’t ask me questions.”

“Okay, Raven.”

“Don’t call me Raven either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re not going to make me kill someone, are you?” He smirks, side-eyeing my annoyed expression as we walk.

“I will kill you before I ask you to kill someone.” I stop in my tracks in front of the wall.

Mattheo looks at the wall and then me, clearly confused. “What’re we doing here?”

“Shut up. I have to focus.”

“Focus on what.”

“Bloody hell, Malfoy!”

“Malfoy? Where?” He turns around.

“Merlin’s beard, truely, you're not that daft?”

“What-” His confusion drops to realisation. “Oh.”

That’s when it hits me.

“You’re not a Malfoy, are you?” I laugh in disbelief. 

He opens his mouth to say something before the wall’s bricks start to crumble and shift. The same door appears from behind the bricks, the same snake on the front of it. Mattheo looks at the door appearing in disbelief, his breath sucked right of his lungs.

“What, never seen a magic door?” I laugh at his reaction.

“Is this…the room of requirements?”

I nod and chuckle. “I have no idea how I summon this door every time. The room of requirement usually forms into whatever the finder requires. I don’t know what I require.”

He looks at me, his expression suddenly drops from awe to deathly seriousness. “Do you know what’s behind the door?”

An uneasy feeling wraps me. “Yeah…I do. Why do I get the feeling that you do too?”

“Because I do.”

My heart drops at his confession. I laugh nervously. “How could you?”

Mattheo slowly walks towards the door and stands before it. His eyes hold something I can’t recognize in them. He doesn’t look amused, or cocky or anything I’ve ever seen before. 

“Mattheo?” I ask cautiously, my hand instinctively reaching for my wand. He turns to look at me, his eyes dropping to my hand over my wand in my pocket. Mattheo looks back at me, clenching his jaw before turning back to look at the door.

“My name is Mattheo Riddle.”

My blood runs cold at his last name. “You- what?” I step back. I can’t believe it. How did I not see this coming?

His father was the ghost in the room. His father was….Voldemort.

I look at the door and then back to him. 

“I was looking for this door. You just made this a lot easier for me, Y/n L/n.” He chuckles, his hand reaching for the knob.

I pull out my wand and point it at him. “Why are you looking for your father?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice forceful.

“Now, what sort of a mystery would I be if I told you all the answers?”

What had I done?

[meirathinks]

⊹ ♡₊˚๑ 𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙊𝙐𝙏 ! ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

chef!Sukuna headcannons

okay. I know I haven't posted anything in like a year. and I know I'm a little rusty so bare with me ok😭 I'm sorry for the wait! Reader was intended to be black but I don't describe any features. lmk if I should turn this into a fic!!

Warnings: none!!

Chef!Sukuna is one of the world's biggest assholes. SURE he graduated top of his class AND SURE! The waitlist for his restaurant is so, ridiculously long. But his personality? Awful. 

He’s known for his near godly knife skills. He can chop an onion in ten seconds. He’s pretty sure it’s a world record.

His own staff is so, so terrified of him. The new kid, who’s bright-eyed and fresh out of culinary school, who was beyond excited to work at a Michelin-star restaurant quits on his first day.

(he cried on his walk home)

Sukuna leans into the back of his chair, while Uruame lets out an uncharacteristically loud sigh from their spot at the door. 

They step closer into the room while speaking, “You can’t keep a Junior chef for more than six hours—”

Sukuna groans, “Calm down— your job is to be my sous. Act like it.”

He puts his feet up on the peeling wood desk in front of him, deftly ignoring several receipts that were strewn on it.

Uruame nods, before leaving.

Sukuna wasn’t in the wrong you know, the junior chef should’ve known the difference between sauté and panfrying. 

He groans while moving to leave his office— he had prep to do. 

He’s worked hard to get where he is— to make his restaurant as good as it is. He designed the kitchen himself. He chose each appliance meticulously and placed them in the space deliberately

The delivery and food-prep and pastry sections are in specific parts of the kitchen, they cater to the menu.

Speaking of the menu. You cannot tell me that he didn’t lock himself in his apartment with pots and pans strewn everywhere. 

He’d have a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and his hair would be a little dishevelled

But, he finally figured out that what his main dish needed was an acid. 

He’d have a rare, genuine smile on his face while he runs his hand through his hair. He’ll take another bite and excitedly drum his fingers on his kitchen countertop. He’s good. He knows he’s good. 

Sukuna’s leaning on the host station with a pencil in hand reviewing the guest list for that night’s dinner. His eyebrows raise at your name— which is circled in red marker angrily. He shouts to Uraume, who’s at the back prepping.

“What’s the red marker for.”

“We have a food critic coming in tonight.”

Sukuna scoffs, “We always have food critics coming in.”

“This one’s different.”

Yeah right.

For the head chef, and owner of a michelin star restaurant— Sukuna is relaxed. 

He’ll wear a white button up and some black slacks and the days he’s expected to work front of house. But his sleeves will be rolled high on his forearms and there’s always this dismissive look in his eyes

He doesn’t have to be some kiss ass— his food speaks for itself. 

People waited months to get into his restaurant for his food, not to have a conversation with him. 

The first thing Sukuna realizes is that you take a laughably short time looking at the menu. From what he can see from the host station, you’re looking at it out of graciousness than necessity. 

He walks over, ready to take your order. He nearly laughs when he notices that your notepad already has writing on it. 

You’re looking up at him through the low light of the restaurant. It’s tinged red. Like a night club you think. Tacky. 

“Hi,” You smile, “I’m surprised I’m being served by the Sukuna.”

“Yeah— it’s a slow day.”

You hum, “And here I was, thinking that you were out here just for me.”

He laughs. It’s this loud, low and smoothe. “I can hear your heart breaking from here.”

“Let’s start with the focaccia.” Your voice is a little shaky. He likes the sound of it.

He walks to the kitchen with a familiar grin on his face. 

Food critic his ass— you’re in love with him. He can tell. 

Chef!Sukuna who’s never had a negative review. Ever.

GQ. The New York Times. The Washington Post. Critics become regulars— they want an excuse to chat Sukuna (even if he doesn’t entertain it)

He’s earned a name for himself in the food scene, you know. People love him whether they like it or not. 

This was just the start too— he’ll open more restaurants, maybe something more formal. He thinks of himself as an immovable object or an unstoppable force or whatever is in those management books Uraume reads

So, imagine his surprise when Uruame forwards an article to him at 11:54 pm on a thursday.

Especially when he sees that you wrote the article. 

And that you gave the restaurant a 3 out of 5

A three out of fucking five.

Sukuna was going to kill someone. You, preferably. 

[lastofthewardens]

okay fuck it i wasn’t going to post this but i'm having a moment.

i know we kind of know nothing at this point. a lot of filming has been away from the public eye since there are actors who haven’t been seen on set that we know for sure are in the show. plus anything we have seen is out of context. so really any assumptions would be jumping the gun a little bit, which means this is my disclaimer that i hope i'm completely wrong about what i'm saying and look very stupid later but.

it’s looking more and more like this show completely fumbled foggy nelson and kirsten mcduffie and just gave their roles to karen? which is crazy because as much as i love the OG show they already did that to ben urich (which they were criticized for by comic fans) and then of course there are the many debates about elektra among various sections of fandom. but repeating the ben mistake with foggy while also doing it 20x worse to a character that's even worse to do it to and then just giving kirsten NOTHING to work with is fucking crazy.

and as someone who also ships k*redevil, thought they had a real chance at something after s3, always imagined they would've been together in canon by the end of the OG 5 seasons they originally wanted, and wants them to be endgame (because sadly and unfortunately, neither show was ever going to make foggy and matt happen lol), this is so insanely off-putting to me, to the point that it may start putting me off things i previously liked if that’s what they did come next year when s2 comes out.

the way karen was originally ignored by this new show is wild and stupid, but i really don’t think the reverse should be happening like this or that karen should be getting literally everything now, all at the expense of the entire rest of the comic book cast, particularly dd’s most important longest running supporting character foggy and arguably matt’s best comic book love interest kirsten (she's SO much more than that too obviously, but like.. the new show isn't letting her be those things either?)

karen has been dead in the comics for a long time. i've always thought her show version should survive and that they shouldn’t kill her, and i stand by that, and i was impressed and glad when they subverted it in s3. but they could’ve kept karen alive and kept her a main character and gave her all the importance she deserves and even had a k*redevil endgame without it being done like this.

there's absolutely a world where they respect foggy's place and importance in matt's life and keep him included and alive, kirsten is treated as the badass she is and gets to do all kinds of law stuff with matt and foggy (and be a supportive friend, if they didn't want to do love interest, because they could still honor the spirit of their relationship), and karen still gets to be everything that was already awesome about her in the OG show.

the writing for this show (yes, even in the new episodes by the new team) is not good enough to justify the decisions being made or the disrespect to almost literally every character.

if you want to diverge from the comics, you don’t solve the issue of karen not being alive anymore by just deleting everyone else's relevancy and replacing every other character that exists with her so you can prop her up. she doesn't even need that, the character the OG show created in her was already awesome. you create new stories and show what having her around would’ve added. you bring back older stories she was in and recontextualize them. you respect the other characters that matter instead of taking things away.

you definitely DON'T antagonize and dismiss and disappoint fans of the source material who care about this stuff just to push your agenda. and this will just turn some fans even more against the ship and the character when they already had a hill to climb with some parts of this fandom. which sucks because i originally hoped that in a world where this show was good that people would change their minds about k*redevil and see it more positively, but now i feel like i can't blame them anymore. in the words of matt (apparently), 'fuck it'.

this new show is literally like a dark twisted mirror version of the series i love, like the ultimate be careful what you wish for, and i’m so sad about it today. wish it just stayed cancelled at this point.

[luluoccult]

I'll Be Seeing You

✯ Chapter 1 ✯ Chapter 2 ✯ Chapter 3 ✯

Once again, thank you all for your patience while waiting for this new chapter. As for requests, if you've sent one in, I've seen it, and there isn't a single one I don't plan on writing. All I ask for is some time!

Pairing: Fizzarolli x Reader*

Warning: Cursing, Yelling

Word Count: 6.5K

You hear the beeping before you even open your eyes. A heartbeat. 

Your heartbeat. 

You feel a dull pain on the side of your head, and you remember your head colliding with the wall. You’re surprised you didn’t pass out immediately after. You remember Prince Stolas, and he was with someone. 

You open your eyes, and it takes a bit for your eyesight to get back to normal. Your eyes immediately land on the only other thing in the room with you. Prince Stolas. You hesitantly look around the room, but a small part of you hopes Blitz is also here. 

He’s not. 

You sigh as you look toward the stand closest to the bed and notice a bouquet of sunflowers. Your smile brightens as you take a single flower, close your eyes, and breathe in its scent. 

You look up from sweeping when you hear loud laughter approaching the entrance of the main tent. Your smile instantly appears as you try to quickly finish sweeping so you can hang out with Blitzo and Fizz. Your head snaps as you hear someone bark their name, and you feel your shoulders sag as you realize it's Cash. 

“Great,” you whisper as you start walking to a little section in the main tent where all the cleaning supplies (which wasn’t a lot) are kept. 

You figure that Cash wants them to rehearse, so you now have time to kill. You could go out alone, but it wouldn’t be as fun. Plus, after the last time you went out, you aren’t sure if this area is safe for walking alone. As you got older, people got weirder. 

You reach the center of the circus tent and let out an audible sigh before looking forward, your back towards the entrance. The lights are still on, and for a moment, you are someone greater—you were someone. You look directly into the spotlight and allow yourself to smile, bask in the feeling, in dreams. 

“Looks like they won’t need us tonight, Fizz.”

Your eyes snap open, and your head turns to where the voice originated. You smile as you completely face your friends. 

“I heard your dad calling you! I thought you guys were going to get held up tonight,” you say as you walk over to them. 

“Nah. He found out that I’ve been stealing his booze,” Blitzo says as he looks around the tent. “You done for the night?”

You nod excitedly before looking at Fizz, slightly tilting your head.

“You good, Fizz?” 

You could tell he was deep in thought. You look over at Blitzo, and he just shrugs. You walk over to Fizz and lightly tap your finger against his forehead.

“Hello? Hell to Fizz? Are you there?” you ask as Fizz looks at you surprised.

“Huh?” 

“Are you okay,” you ask with a bit more concern. 

“Yeah,” you raise your eyebrow at him. “No, really.  I messed up my act tonight, and we had important people in the audience tonight.”

He looks so sad. 

“Fizz, it wasn’t a big deal. If they can’t see past a tiny mistake, it’s on them. More for us,” Blitzo says while putting his arms around Fizz’s shoulder. 

“Blitzo is right, Fizz. Don’t worry about it,” you smile as you reach for his hand and squeeze it lightly. 

You notice a slight blush on his cheeks. Was that there before or after you grabbed his hand? You try to fight off a blush at the idea of him blushing at you holding his hand, but you feel your face warm. Blitzo looks at you and raises an eyebrow, and you decide to speak before he can say anything. 

“On that note, I have something for you boys,” you say as you drop Fizz’s hand. 

“A present,” Blitzo says excitedly.

He begins to walk towards you, but you raise your finger at him, signaling him to stay, which he follows. 

“Hmm, yes? It’s not a big thing,” you say as you walk behind the bleachers, retrieving the two bouquets. 

You stay behind the bleachers briefly as you try to calm your racing heart. You should have gotten them the same flowers. 

“I knew you both had important people in the audience tonight, and I knew you would kill it like you always do. Still, I wanted to get you guys a little something to celebrate!” 

You walk out from under the bleachers with the bouquets. One of the bouquets has sunflowers, and the other has red tulips. Fizz and Blitzo look surprised.

“That’s all?” Blitzo asks, and Fizz smacks him on the arm as your smile falters slightly. “I mean, thanks. Red is my favorite color.”

Oh, Satan. 

“Umm…actually, the sunflowers reminded me of you, Blitzo,” you say awkwardly as you hand them over to Blitzo. 

“Why,” Blitzo questions.

“Well, yellow is a happy and joyful color, and that’s all I want for you. A life of joy for one of my best friends,” you beam at him. 

Of course, you knew what sunflowers meant but didn’t want to go too into details.

“Oh,” Blitzo rubs the back of his neck, “thanks.”

Blitzo walks off to the side with his bouquet. He seemed to be admiring them. Has he ever gotten flowers before? Your attention turns to Fizz, who walks closer to you. He smiles softly, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach start up again. Get it together.

“And for you, Fizz, I got red tulips,” you say, and you quickly hand them to him. 

He looks down at the flowers before bringing them up to his nose. He looks back at you with the sweetest look you’ve ever seen. 

“Hello?” Fizz asks.

You furrow your eyebrows.

“Huh?” 

Fizz removes the bouquet from his face.

“I asked what red tulips mean,” he giggles.

You feel your heartbeat stop. You can't tell him and risk looking like a complete idiot. What were you supposed to say? ‘Yeah, Fizz. For the past few years, I’ve developed strong feelings for you. The kind of feelings that ruin friendships because you’re you and I’m me. But I love you in all the ways a person could love someone else, which will remain true even when you inevitably reject me.’ That wasn’t going to cut it. No, you had to make up some stupid meaning or deflect. You clear your throat as you look at the ground.

“I’m not a flower expert, Fizz, but I got red tulips for you because they are bold. And everyone loves red flowers,” you explained. 

“Oh,” Fizz says as he looks back at the flowers.

Now, it looks like you’re disinterested. He looks up at you with a bright smile as he takes a single tulip from the bouquet. 

“Well, then, it looks like you need one, too,” Fizz says, handing the flower to you.

Your hands slightly touch, and both of your cheeks flush. You’re about to respond before Blitzo speaks.

“I’m not giving you any of mine,” Blitzo says as he walks towards you both.

You and Fizz look at each other before breaking into laughter.

A month before you ran. You were 17. You open your eyes to see a drop on one of the petals. It’s becoming a regular thing to not even feel the tears as they start spilling. You wipe away your tears, still looking at the flowers. Could it have been Blitz? 

“You’re awake,” you snap your head to Prince Stolas, sitting more upright in his chair. 

“Yes,” you pause. “How long have I been…asleep?”

The prince looks at you curiously. 

“It’s only been a day. Does it feel like it’s been longer?”

You ponder on his question. In all honesty, time didn’t cross your mind. All you knew was that you passed out on the street, and you woke up on this hospital bed.

“No, the opposite, actually,” you say while looking back at him.

This was awkward. Might as well get apologies out of the way.

“Listen-”

“I-” 

You both look at each other as you interrupt one another. You feel a half smile appear on your face as the prince lets out a chuckle. 

“You first,” the prince gestures to you. 

“Thank you, your highness. I just wanted to apologize for my behavior at the club. I intruded on a royal’s space. Not only that, but on a royal already on a date,” you blurt out, your cheeks flushing. 

You glance up at the prince to see his shocked expression before he starts laughing. You raise your eyebrows as your cheeks heat up. Well, this is humiliating. 

“...I was serious,” you awkwardly state as you hug yourself to self-comfort.

Noticing your sincerity, the prince stops his laughter, but there is still a trace of joy in his eyes. 

“There is nothing to apologize for, dear. It was barely even a kiss. Still, if it’ll make you feel better, consider it forgiven and forgotten,” he smiles at you. 

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you smile softly at him.

“Oh, there is no need for formalities. You can call me Stolas,” he says, maintaining eye contact.

You couldn’t decipher his gaze. He is trying to study you, but you couldn’t grasp why. 

“Thank you, Stolas. Now, I believe you wanted to say something as well?”  

“Ahh, yes. Well, I noticed you saw the flowers Blitzy and I brought you.” 

You raise your eyebrows at the nickname, and you can’t help the little smirk that appears on your face. You cough to play it off when you notice Stolas’ face blush.

“Yes, did you choose them out?" 

Part of you felt you knew the answer, but it might have been coincidental. There was a slight chance that Stolas liked sunflowers, and Blitz didn’t remember the flowers you got him all those years ago.

“No, it was Blitz! After they took you in, Blitzy and I walked around the area to find food when he suddenly paused in front of a flower stand. I recommended that we bring you back flowers, and he hesitantly agreed before reaching out for that bouquet. Why do you ask?”

So it was Blitz. You look down at the flower and feel a pang in your chest. Damn it. How was this your life? You were supposed to disappear. You weren’t supposed to run into either of them and now here you were, consumed by guilt. You try to fight back tears, but some of them slip out. You quickly wipe your eyes before looking back up at Stolas. He seems a bit curious but a lot more concerned.

“I’m sorry, your- Stolas. I’m sure by now you know that Blitz and I have a history,” you say as Stolas raises his eyebrows. “NOT LIKE- history like we essentially grew up together.”

The owl laughs at your panic to correct yourself before calming down.

“Yes, I tried to ask him about it, but he didn’t want to talk about it…at least not with me,” he says, observing your reaction. 

All your defenses are down, so he was probably able to see the panic in your face. 

“I don’t know what happened between you and Blitz, but he was hurt tonight,” he says, looking down at his hands. 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“Because I ran again?” you whisper. 

Stolas looks up at you again, quietly taking you in. 

“Hm. That’s a question that’s better suited for Blitz, dear. He acted quickly when he saw you shoved against the wall, though.”

You sigh as you look down at the sunflower. One talk. That’s all you had to do. You clear your throat before speaking.

“Um, the club is closed every Monday to give all the musicians a break. Around the time I first got hired, I was given a key to practice in the space, and the boss kind of forgot about it. I don’t have contact with Blitz, but could you tell him if he wants to talk…” you pause. “Tell him I want to talk with him if he lets me.”

You look at Stolas, who seems satisfied. 

“I don’t doubt you’ll make up for running this time, but we both know Blitz. How do I convince him that you mean it?” Stolas asks. 

Your heart doesn’t know how to feel anymore. 

“Tell him I swear it,” you assure him. 

Stolas takes a moment to look at you before nodding. He sticks around a bit more, making conversation. You get to learn more about his relationship with Blitz, and Stolas learns more about how you know Blitz. Eventually, Stolas leaves, leaving you with the sunflower in your hand.

You are going to see Blitz again—your old friend. 

You swore it.

“Do you swear it,” Blitzo asks.

He looks scared. 

“Blitzo, of course I do. You’re my best friend. Nothing will ever change that,” you whisper.

Both of you had slipped away from Blitzo’s dad after he made Fizz go practice for the show later on. Children shouldn’t be working so hard. They also shouldn’t be tossed aside for someone else, especially on their birthdays. 

“You turn 12 today, and I’m still with you. In 10 years, when you turn 22, I’ll be there with you. And when you turn 32 and 42,” you whisper as you spread your hands wider and wider. 

Blitzo chuckles as he lightly punches your arm before his expression turns slightly sad again.

“So, you want to be my friend too? Not just Fizz’s? Not just because I’m friends with Fizz?” 

“Blitzooo! Of course not,” you say as you hug him tightly. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one who understands what it’s like to be who I am. Someone in someone else’s shadow. You’re stuck with me.”

You feel Blitzo hug you tighter as you stay in this position for a little longer before he lets go. He asks you one more time.

“Do you swear it? A real friend?”

“Yes, Blitzo.”

“Say it. It only means something if you say the words.”

You roll your eyes as you grab his face.

“I swear it.”

I swear it. 

~~

You sigh as you take another sip of your drink. Part of the reason why you wanted to talk at the club was because of all the alcohol. Still, you weren’t trying to get drunk to the point where you might say too much. You aren’t about to just confess everything to him. At most, you would apologize for hurting him by leaving abruptly. If he asks why, you would make up a reason, Maybe one that wasn’t as selfish as the real reason. 

It was getting later and later, and there was still no sign of Blitz. To be fair, you didn’t specify a time, but it was getting closer to 12 AM, and you had been sitting there since 6 PM. You practiced your repertoire of songs, and that took you until about 8 PM. You don’t know how much longer you could wait. Your heart feels like it could give out at any second because of your emotions. What if he had come before 6 PM and nobody was here? What if he thought you flaked? Thought you ran? 

You sigh as you run your hand through your hair before resting your head on your arm. The clock shows that it’s 12 AM. 

Over and over, I keep going over the world we knew

Once when you walked beside me

That inconceivable, that unbelievable world we knew

When we two were in…

Your singing fades out as you sit up and drink the rest of your drink in one gulp. 

“Sorry, Blitz, but I guess you’re used to it,” you whisper as you gather your stuff. 

You walk towards the club entrance and open the door, almost hitting someone with the door. 

Blitz.

He looks surprised as he just stares at your face. Then, he looks down at your hand with the keys, and in a split second, you see anger overtake his expression. Oh dear. 

“Were you about to fucking leave?”

You flinch slightly. This was going to be a long night, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t you just wait a couple more minutes? Might as well be honest.

“I didn’t know if you were going to show,” you explain softly.

“Oh, you didn’t know if I was going to show,” he spits out. 

There was no use in fighting with him, especially if you would be talking for a while. Plus, he did have more of a point.

“Sorry Blitzo- Blitz. Come in,” you say as you move back into the club, holding the door open for him.

You mentally smack yourself for calling him by his old name. You’ve seen his commercial, and you are aware that he’s been calling himself Blitz. Even though you never thought you would see him again, you tried to get used to the change. And here you are already fucking up. 

He heads straight to the bar, and you can’t help the tiny smile on your face as you follow him. He walks behind the bar and grabs a bottle before stepping back around to sit at the counter. You decide to stand behind the counter, across from him, so you don’t get too comfortable. 

“Am I going to be expected to pay for this?” Blitz asks while he takes a swig. 

You shake your head quickly. 

“No, I owe you for the other night,” you explain as you choose a drink that’s more fruity tasting than alcoholic. 

“You owe me a lot more than alcohol,” he mumbles as he takes another angry swig of the drink.

“Yeah,” you reply awkwardly.

The silence is tense. You don’t even know where to start.

“Are we just going to sit here staring at each other because I did enough of that the other night,” Blitz demands. 

“Satan, give me a minute Blitz. I don’t even know where to start,” you say, trying not to get angry. 

“I’ve given you more than a damn minute. Try a couple of fucking years!” Blitz exclaims. 

“I know Blitz! Do you think I wear the locket as a fashion statement!?” 

You wince as you feel a dull pang in your head, and you close your eyes. You were released from the hospital two days ago, and they mentioned that you should avoid loud noises or making loud noises. The bar is silent as you try to will the pang away. It wasn’t the first time this had happened since you’d been released, so you knew it would disappear shortly. 

“...Are you okay,” you hear Blitz ask. 

It still sounds cold, but you could also hear some concern. At least, you hope that’s what you hear. You raise your head as you keep your hand on your forehead, and you keep your eyes closed.

“Listen, Blitz. I know. I know I fucked up, and I know I left without an explanation. Just give me a damn second, please. I know I don’t deserve it, but surely you can wait a few more minutes,” you beg. 

You open your eyes to see Blitz staring at you. He nods slightly as he takes a swig of his drink, and he looks at it as you reach for a glass of water, your side profile facing Blitz. You take a moment to collect yourself and finish the glass of water. You occasionally see Blitz staring at you through your peripherals, but you don’t comment on it. If you could, you would be staring at him too, but you were too ashamed. You sigh as you turn back to face him but don’t make eye contact. You'll have to, though. You close your eyes one more time, and you hear Blitz sigh angrily. Why couldn’t this be easier? What do you say? Maybe starting with sorry. Pretending you’re talking to the little boy, to the teenager you knew. What would you say if it was that version of him? If he somehow could see how things turned out? 

You open your eyes and look at Blitz square in the eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Blitz. No explanation will make what I did okay. I thought I would never see you or Fizzarolli again. I know that sounds terrible, but I was trying to avoid this,” you gesture between the two of you. “This hurts. I probably have no right to feel that way because it was my choice, but it hurts. And all I can say is that I’m sorry I hurt you.”

You look at him a second longer before you take another drink of the alcohol you opened earlier. 

“Is that all?” Blitz asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re ‘sorry’ for hurting me, which you fucking didn’t. I didn’t need you, but what about sorry for running?” Blitz snaps. 

You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt hearing Blitz say he didn’t need you. You’ve always had such big emotions, and you are actively fighting off tears so it doesn’t get more tense. You just have to get through this night. You ignore the question and decide to focus on the first part. 

“My bad, Blitz. I guess I thought we were closer than we were. I guess it hurt me to leave you,” you explain.

“Yeah, I could tell,” he rolls his eyes. 

The silence settles in. There’s probably nothing you could say that would take the anger away from his eyes. You sigh. 

“Tell me why you ran,” Blitz presses you for an answer.

“Why does it matter?” You shoot back. 

“Because the stupid jester and I spent a lot of time blaming ourselves,” Blitz admits. 

You raise your eyebrows at the lack of Fizzarolli’s name. 

“Stupid jester? Why-” Blitz interrupts you.

“No, you don’t get to ask any fucking questions until you answer mine,” he points a finger in your face. 

You push his finger away from your face. 

“Look, Blitz. I invited you to apologize, and I get that you’re angry. But frankly, I’m not telling you why I left,” you huff out as you swallow the rest of your drink in one gulp and open another stronger drink.

Blitz gets down from his seat and walks away from the bar before turning to face you. He looks extremely pissed. And slightly drunk. 

“You owe it to us, damn it. You don’t deserve to wear that locket with our faces and tell me I can’t know why you left.”

You start downing more of the drink as you feel your vision getting blurry. This is a nightmare. 

“Like I said, it’s not just an accessory I throw on every morning. It serves as a reminder of what I left behind. What I had to leave behind, and if I remember correctly, I got us the lockets,” you snap. 

“Yeah, but you don’t see me fucking wearing it. I threw that piece of shit away after you left. You need a reminder of what you left behind, and I’m right fucking here,” Blitz says as he walks back and slams his hand on the bar. 

The mix of the alcohol and the loud noise was not a pleasant mixture. 

“And you’re better off! You own a business, Blitz!” You dig your nails into your palm as you try to ground yourself. 

“Oh! Thanks a lot! That makes you leaving a lot better! Because you left, I became a boss!” Blitz yells, rolling his eyes. 

You feel your eye twitch. There was no point in this. Only pain and you were supposed to leave that behind. 

“I think we’re done here, Blitz,” you sigh as you drink the last bit. 

You turn around to leave payment for your drinks and Blitz’s. You hear shuffling behind you, and you’re surprised he is taking your dismissal quickly. You wish you could say that part of you hoped that he would fight more, but you are tired. You have been exhausted for a long time now. If it wasn’t for your current job, you don’t know what kind of hole you would go down into. You turn around to grab your jacket, but it’s not on the counter. You look up to see Blitz smirking with it in your hand. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Blitz, I am not in the mood. Just give me my jacket, and we can head our separate ways,” you ask as you step out from behind the bar.

“Makes it kind of hard to leave when you don’t have everything with you, huh?” Blitz mocks. 

“You don’t know the fucking half of it,” you snap as you walk towards him, but he puts distance between you both. “Blitz, I swear-”

“You swear what? Can’t fucking hurt me anymore than you did already,” Blitz shoots at you.

“I thought I didn’t hurt you. I thought you didn’t need me,” you mock his earlier words, anger beginning to spill.

“You know what I meant bitch!” Blitz’s stance becomes more rigid as he gets worked up again. 

“Real classy BlitzO,” you over-enunciate the O. 

“The O is silent, and you fucking know it,” Blitz snarls.

“How would I? I left you behind and never thought about you at all. I avoided anything to do with you both, so how on earth would I know that, Blitzo,” you say, feigning cluelessness. 

“You know what I think? I think you were jealous of Fizz and me because all you would ever be was the person who cleaned up AFTER we performed. It explains why you work here. All you wanted was the spotlight, and when knowing us wasn’t enough, you fucking ran,” Blitz yells as he gets in your face. 

You feel your heart break. It was like hearing your worst fears come to life. Did he genuinely see you as only the person who cleaned up after? Sure, you left because you wanted better for yourself (and tried to avoid your feelings, but that’s not important). Still, you never became friends with Fizzarolli or Blitz to get “famous” or whatever he was implying. You didn’t even know what to say.

“And this,” Blitz lifts your locket with a finger before tugging, “was all bullshit.”

You feel the clasp break and hear a tiny clink as the locket hits the floor. Your eyes water as you look at Blitz before briefly looking down at the locket. It falls open, and Fizz’s photo is falling out slightly. You have the urge to puke as you suddenly feel every emotion you’ve ever felt rise to your chest, but the two that were rising above the others are anger and sadness. 

You slightly shove Blitz away as you bend down to pick up the locket and the picture. Your vision is blurry as tears start pouring down your face. As soon as one tear slips out, a dam opens. Your head is spinning as you get back up and try to insert Fizz’s photo back in its slot, but it got slightly wet, making it a bit difficult to get in carefully. You quickly walk over to the bar to set down the locket and the picture and try calming your racing heart. 

“You can quit the dramatics,” Blitz snaps from behind you.

Your eyes look forward, and you feel your stare harden. Fuck it all to hell. You turn around quickly to face Blitz.

“FINE. Do you want to know why I left Blitz? I left because I couldn’t stand being seen as the help or the janitor or whatever the fuck people saw me as. I know damn well that a good portion of the people at the circus didn’t even know my fucking name. I sure as hell know that your dad didn’t because he LOVED reminding me of ‘my place.’ He loved telling me that my friendship with Fizzarolli wouldn’t last. Oh, but never about you. How is it that your own father didn’t appreciate his performer son? Hell, you were almost treated the same way I was. Almost. You had your good moments with your father, even though they were rare and always had some ulterior motive behind them,” you ramble.

You notice the hurt in Blitz’s eyes before it disappears into anger. You didn’t care at this point, though. Your hands are clenched at your side, your heart is in your throat, and you want nothing more than to hurt Blitz the way he had just hurt you by assuming that you never cared about them. 

“My father-”

“I don’t care! You wanted my reasoning, so I’m giving it to you so we can be done, and you can go back to hating me regardless. I left because I knew that if I stayed, I would only ever be the person who cleaned up after you guys, as you so graciously pointed out,” Blitz’s face cringes, but you continue, “I wanted so hard to forget the difference in our worlds, but your dad always made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t worth anything because of what I did at the circus. I had to believe that you and Fizzarolli saw more than what I did. I thought you saw who I was, but do you remember the day I left? The way your dad spoke to me and the fact that neither of you defended me? You both sat there, and you let your dad humiliate me. You might as well have said the words yourself,” you feel yourself crumbling as you hold your hand over your heart, and your breath gets faster. 

“But I didn’t! I went and found you-” Blitz starts, but you interrupt him.

“Yeah, after the fact! By then, the damage had already been done Blitz! Did I truly think that you believed what your father said? Honestly? No. I didn’t think YOU believed that. I’m sorry, Blitz, but your dad was an asshole, and you deserved a better father. I meant it that night when I told you that I felt like you were the only one who understood what it was like to be under the shadows of others. So, in that moment, I felt like you sympathized with me, but what you said right now has me doubting everything I thought I knew,” you say as you look him in the eyes, hurt leaking through every word. 

Blitz’s face looks apologetic and uncomfortable as he watches you spiral. He reaches out to you, but you back away. 

“And even after I left, I wanted to return Blitz! I desperately wanted to go back, even if it meant never doing anything with my life, because that’s how much I cared about you guys. You were my best friends, and I wish I could say I would have done anything for you, but I couldn’t stay there. I’m sorry I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay and watch you both grow and realize that maybe I was below you. That I was never anything more than that scared little child who needed you both to save me, but you had outgrown. I couldn’t stand by and lose my best friend who I loved entirely as he looked at me with disgust, and I wasn’t going to be the stupid idiot that fell in love with the star of the show that would follow him around like a damn puppy,” you sob out as you fall to the floor. 

You let out a couple of sobs as your right hand goes to your heart and your left hand goes to your head. You hunch over as you try to gain control over your emotions again. This is all too much, and your head is pounding. You feel yourself slowly stopping before you abruptly sit up straight. 

Did you just…? You slowly look up and see Blitz mirroring the same expression you are sure is on your face—surprise, shock. You rub your eyes before quickly getting off the floor and heading to the bar. The picture is dry, so you put it back in the slot where it belongs. You reach for your jacket before remembering that Blitz still has it.

“Screw this, I’ll ask for a spare key,” you whisper as you start walking towards the backstage exit. 

“Oh no, you don’t,” Blitz says as he hurries over, but you immediately turn towards the main entrance. 

You are at the door when Blitz speaks again.

“You wouldn’t have seen it happen,” Blitz says softly. 

You pause slightly. You didn’t know if you could respond without bursting into tears again. You wait, a tiny part hoping that he would expand. 

“Not long after you left, it all burned.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as you slowly turn around. You aren’t sure how to process this information. If you are staying, you need a glass of water, so you walk over to the bar before heading to the end of the stage to sit down. You look up at Blitz, waiting patiently as he looks deep in thought. He finally looks up, and he seems a lot more calmer.  Less angry. A lot like the Blitz you knew. 

“It’s how I got this,” Blitz points at his face. “And these.”

You wondered how he got all his scars, but you never thought he got them from the place you had once been. 

“I’m so sorry, Blitz,” you whisper. 

He looks at you and nods slightly.

“Not as sorry as I am. I lost a lot that night,” he says as he walks over with his phone out. 

He sits down on the stage next to you and sets down his phone between the two of you. A picture on the screen shows him, his mom, and his sister. You look up at Blitz, and you notice the pendant on his belt matches his mom’s in the picture. Oh no. 

“Blitz,” you whisper as you look at him before looking down.

“I guess your timing wasn’t half bad. I don’t think I would have forgiven myself if you got hurt too,” Blitz says as he takes his phone back. 

“Forgive yourself?”

Blitz looks at you before looking at the floor in front of him. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, but it was my fault. It was an accident…but it was my fault that the circus went up in flames that day,” Blitz says as he looks up at you. 

You stare at him as you raise your hand to comfort him before putting it back down. His eyes follow the movement, making it awkward, but you haven’t seen him in years. Things have changed. 

“I believe you, Blitz, but at least you had each other,” you reply, and Blitz turns away.

“Yeah…the jester and I aren’t really on speaking terms anymore,” Blitz admits.

You can’t help the way your eyebrows raise and your eyes widen. Those two were best friends. Hell, for a while, you thought one of them harbored a secret crush on the other. What possibly drew them apart?

“It wasn’t because of me, right?” You desperately ask.

A lighthearted smile appears on Blitz. 

“Not everything is about you,” he responds lightly. 

You return his smile with one of your own. You feel the weight of the night lift just a bit. Things aren’t healed completely, but at the moment, the waters are calm. You sit in silence as you both process everything that was said tonight. You hear Blitz sigh.

“Look, I won’t say I completely agree with you leaving, but I guess I understand why you did it. I don’t fucking like it, but it’s done. Now I know,” Blitz starts. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to move on from this. Too many emotions for one night.”

“What does that mean, Blitz?” You look at Blitz as he hops off the stage.

“Well, first, it means you put your number in my phone,” he says as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Gross,” you respond as you take his phone from him and put in your number. 

He takes his phone back, and you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. You take it out, and you see someone is calling you. You look at Blitz and see him staring at your phone before looking back up at you.

“Whoops, meant to text you,”  he says awkwardly.

“You were calling to see if I gave you my actual number, weren’t you?” You deadpan. 

“Ha, can never be too sure,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

His awkward smile is too goofy to be mad at, and you find yourself smiling and rolling your eyes at him. You make small talk as you fix things before you both head out for the night. You’re at the bar washing the glass you used when Blitz speaks up again.

“I knew it, by the way,” Blitz say matter of factly.

“Knew what?” You say as you put the glass down to dry and turn to look at him.

“You wanting to do nasty things with the clown,” Blitz says as he grabs the locket you set down at the bar.

You feel your face burn as your jaw drops. You hold out your hand for the locket, and he drops it in your hand. 

“I did not say that, Blitz,” you say as you watch him smirk at your reaction. “Besides, I misspoke.”

“Right…” Blitz says, following you as you head to the entrance in embarrassment. 

“Is it bad I’m a tiny bit glad you don’t have contact with Fizzarolli?”

“Why? So I don’t tell him how much you want to-.”

“GOod night, Blitz,” you say as you leave the club. 

You close the door after Blitz steps out with a prideful smirk.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m not walking you to your apartment,” he says as he walks in the direction Stolas and he found you. 

You slightly jog to catch up with him.

“It’s really not necessary, Blitz,” you say. 

“I’m not leaving you alone. It’s next time,” Blitz says while he looks at you.

You feel your heart warm up as you realize he remembers the night you went looking for them. You smile at him as he rolls his eyes. After getting to your apartment building, you say goodbye to Blitz, and he walks in the other direction. You weren’t sure if he would text you, but it was nice having this day. 

You walk up to your apartment and let yourself fall on your couch. You should probably head to bed, but you wanted to reflect on what happened today. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, and you definitely spilled more than you wanted to, but at least Blitz knew why you ran. That’s all that mattered. If he doesn’t forgive you, you would just add him to the list of people who didn’t right under you. You feel your phone buzz, and you smile slightly at the notif.

Blitzø

thx for not runing this time

didnt meen what i said

did care abut u

You smile softly. His spelling has not gotten better. 

You

Thanks Blitz.

You glance at the time before you decide to head off to bed. As you tuck in, you ponder how things might be different. Hopefully, everything is okay. In fact, you hope tonight was all the excitement you need for this year. You close your eyes, and you go to sleep with your heart feeling a bit lighter than it’s felt in years. 

Song mentioned: The World We Knew (Over and Over). sung by Frank Sinatra.

*I've had some interest shown in this being a Reader x Poly (Stolas, Blitz, Fizz, and Ozzie), so I am currently leaving things ambiguous! If you have any opinions on which pairing you'd like, please don't be afraid to let me know!

[thesharktanksdriver]

DMC Netflix rant

K so this isn’t really my usual thing but as someone who recently got into devil may cry and was really looking forwards to the Netflix show I thought I’d air my thoughts on it because I have some opinions. I just wanna say I’m not a longtime fan but a newer one who started playing the games, I started with 5 and finished it and then started getting more into the games from there.

Just wanted to say before it all though this is my opinion and if you disagree that’s completely valid. If you had fun with the show I’m genuinely happy for you! Don’t let my opinion ruin it for you especially if you had a good time!. I don’t want to take something people found legitimate joy in and sully it. If you enjoyed it please move on from this post and enjoy the show. It’s just I have some gripes with it that I want to air out because I have some legitimate issues with it.

With that said spoilers for the show ahead and please do not harass the creators or other people over enjoying this show.

My likes

Animation

I loved the animation. I’d say for the most part it’s smooth and expressive when it needs to. There was some clear love and effort put into this and it shows. After watching the original DMC anime from 2007 and enjoying that but wishing it had a bigger budget, this is what I wanted aesthetic wise at least.

Dante

Personally I love Dante in this! He’s fun and goofy and reminds me of his dmc3 portrayal with him being more younger, cocky and inexperienced. It took a minute to get used to Nero’s voice with him but honestly I think it fits pretty well, like uncle like nephew lol. But genuinely though, Dante was fun and I loved him whenever he was on screen and kept me from dropping the show besides me hate watching it to the end. His ddr section and “who are we shooting at?” Sealed the deal for me.

Enzo

I 100% didn’t expect to love Enzo like I did but i was pleasantly surprised! I haven’t read the dmc novel where he showed up in but I have played bayonetta so I knew him mostly from there. His dynamic with Dante was really interesting, especially since Enzo seemed to genuinely care for Dante in his own way and Dante also cared for him too. He was plain fun and I was actually upset with his death and the callback to how he said he’d take a knife for Dante.

The references

Admittedly I’m a sucker for references but I really found it fun seeing Lucia. The references I didn’t expect but loved even more though were the capcom references! The raccoon city mention, the megaman statue, street fighter arcade machine etc. I wasn’t really expecting references to other capcom materials but I was super happy they got thrown in.

The white rabbit

A genuinely great villain! I was really intrigued he got picked as the main bad guy after seeing he was a throw off baddie from the dmc3 manga. Through the show he was an interesting and captivating through and through. At some points I even rooted for him. I have one grip with him but besides that he was a solid character for me.

The soundtrack

Solid soundtrack, I’m a bit nostalgic for 2000’s and 90’s music like green day, limp bizkit, etc because of my dad playing it when I was younger lol. Solid, and I enjoyed most of the song picks for it.

My dislikes

The cg

Oh god why did they do this???? The animation was great why did they go this route? Listen I get them having a budget and a deadline but it just doesn’t look good. It feels so jarring especially when you have the pretty 2d character beside the ugly cg demon, it also makes fights kinda nauseating to me at least.

Not knowing until now if it was canon or non-canon

This might just be me thing but I’m not sure if anywhere they explicitly said if this was going to be non-canon. This isn’t a big deal but it would’ve been nice to be told beforehand especially since for a month I lowkey thought that this was a canon entry before jumping into the show and realizing it wasn’t, being ok with that and it being a new portrayal and then seeing the rest of the show lol.

The Sparda was wrong thing

Ok so I don’t really get why their doing this especially when their making it seem like his decision was monstrous? Because if Sparda didn’t do that then humanity was gonna be screwed. And like I get what they’re trying to say but making it seem like a selfish decision feels like a big fuck you to sparda’s entire character. He went against mundis and everything he was taught up to that point to do the right thing even at his own expense. He loved humanity and was willing to sacrifice his standing and everything he had to potentially gain with staying at mundis’s side to ensure its survival. Something he’d continue to do when he went to form fortuna and help the protectors. That’s not even mentioning him meeting Eva and having Dante and Vergil, shedding his demonic form to be a father and husband. Though it’s not known in canon as to how exactly he died or when he seemingly disappeared it’s safe to say that with everything known about him he disappeared to save humanity and probably died in the end. So to say his decision is ultimately selfish and that Dante needs to fix the mistakes of his dad is really just…what?? And like I know it’s the rabbit saying this so it’s biased but still. Suddenly framing Sparda as wrong and selfish just feels really weird and kinda shitty.

Dante not knowing he’s part demon

I feel like this takes away from Dante’s character quite a bit. I’d say that a theme through the entire series is Dante’s struggle with his humanity and his in-humanity. I mean the entire song of “devils never cry” that’s in the end credits is about this. It’s also the reason why at least to me in the games seems to try and push people away . So it just feels weird? I think they were trying to explode that revelation in the show but it didn’t really feel like it. And like come on, you’re saying he seriously didn’t know when he was shot point blank in the chest with a shot gun and has superhuman senses and speed? Dante isn’t dumb, and it’s kinda insulting to his characters that they’re trying to make it seem like he genuinely is dumb if he hadn’t clocked that in.

The side characters

Besides Enzo, Dante and the rabbit mom of the other characters besides lady (I’ll get to her later) and maybe the vice president had any impact or interest from me. The minute I saw lady’s crew I immediately knew they were gonna die and I did not care for any of them to remotely feel anything. The only side characters I felt bad for were the demon refugees killed in the apartment complex and flashback scene

How they butchered lady

Quite honestly I don’t give a shit how people are upset lady was able to beat Dante, I couldn’t care less about that when her character was in my opinion butchered to meat clinging to a carcass. She’s so genuinely unlikable it makes me upset because I love dmc3 lady so much. Through the show I couldn’t give a shit about her when she was such an ass in such unredeemable circumstances. Like the fact she was lowkey being racist to Dante. And in some ways I get it, new version of her, and in dmc3 she was antagonistic to Dante there as well. But I think there’s a big difference there and it’s timing and action. In dmc3 she just lost her mom and wants revenge on her dad that nothing else matters, Dante is in her way and a nuisance in that goal that she lashes out until they have their genuine moments. Yes, she hates demons but her mother just died and now this guy who is clearly not human is in her way of killing her father. In the show though her dad turning into a demon and killing her mom happened years ago, and yes that hate hardened as years went on but I’d say her dmc3 portrayal makes her more sympathetic, she’s grieving and she’s a teenager. That brings me back to the show though and her decisions, specifically the fact that she killed a shit Tom of refugees (admittedly the situation was shit but how am I supposed to like her after that) and after learning that demons can be good along with how the government doesn’t value her or their people she decides to stab Dante in the back and hand him in to become a super solider. Honestly it feels like such a disservice to her character especially with her and Dante’s ending conversation of dmc3 of “devils don’t cry” once again cementing Dante’s inner struggle with being part demon and her responding (after disliking him most of the game up until now) saying “ I see. Maybe somewhere out there even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one. Don't you think?” Basically showing how she acknowledges his humanity. They’re probably leading up to a lady redemption arc but honestly I don’t care. They’ve made her almost unredeemable to me and it’s gonna take a lot of heavy lifting for her to ever be likeable in my eyes….and this isn’t even mentioning her constant swearing like the show is trying to remind you it’s a mature show-

The rushed pacing

Yet another thing that I can understand but I can’t help but feel as if nothing and then everything happened all at once. Like all the plot went from was catching Dante - plane scene - apartment complex - flashback episode - finale.

The villain was just some guy

Ok this is a smaller point but like, what do you mean the white rabbit was just some dude. I don’t think we even learned his name which I guess doesn’t matter but still. Couldn’t have had some more build up? Or maybe just made him full demon? If the rabbit head is a mask why is it so expressive?? I guess the blood transfusion stuff explains his abilities but making him full demon could’ve just been the easier option.

Plot holes that could have been fixed

Normally I wouldn’t really care for plot holes but there were some that felt really apparent to me. Like the government and that scientist just learned about demon’s existing but suddenly their already understanding demon magic and figuring out how the Sparda sword works? They could’ve just made it so that they’ve been aware of demons but kept it as a secret to not cause widespread panic. That would’ve made them suddenly understanding demons and the demon world a lot more reasonable. Idk it just feels like such an easy fix that would’ve made the world building a lot more realistic especially considering darkcore or whatever it’s called being a pre-existing entity up till this point. Another thing, I guess this wouldn’t be a plot hole but when is this set??? It has 90/00’s music along with I think a few background characters using old flip/brick phones but they have futuristic weaponry. It’s just a bit jarring in my opinion I guess.

Vergil

Admittedly I’m not the biggest Vergil fan but wtf. You make him a WILLING servant of Mundus??? And that was hill nelo Angelo form?? Huh????? You’re telling me the guy with such astronomically bad mommy issues joins the guy who murdered his beloved mom in cold blood joins him????. This undoes so much of his character, not even to mention it seems like they’re doing the whole jealous twin thing in that flashback sequence which misinterprets a lot of his feelings. He wasn’t upset because she gave Dante an amulet before him be was upset because he thought she chose Dante over him and left him to fucking die. Visions of v pretty much explains everything with “I also wanted to be protected”. That’s not even mentioning how being nelo Angelo mentally fucked with him for years, giving him permanent trauma he purged from himself and woudl lead up to dmc5 and how desperate he is for power. Him being Nelo Angelo unwillingly I’d say is a big plot point for him and making him willing undoes a lot. Just boiling him down to “jealous mom liked Dante more” and willing working with mundus undoes so much of his character. Maybe they’ll explain it, but until then he’s on my dislike list for how they portrayed him so far.

Politics

Firstly as a disclaimer I’m not American, I’m Canadian so maybe take this with a small pinch of salt especially with international relations right now. But uh, I find it a bit weird how the creator Adi Shankar was at the trump inauguration and made the vice president villain look like Biden? And then make a whole thing about government bad, we need to save refugees and bombing hell to colonize for resources when considering what said president he was partying with is doing now??? Idk, I’m not educated enough in American politics to understand everything but personally I find it kinda hypocritical he’s making this commentary while he’s in a certain someone’s pocket.

Overall I’m just disappointed. I’m not really sure what else to say. I was really looking forward to the anime and I’m really let down. I guess that’s my fault for putting faith into something but it just kinda sucks to have your hopes dashed especially after good adaptations like castlevania. If you’ve read this far thanks for reading my rant, feel free to share your opinion as well.

[jaazzpur]

Morningstar family redesigns

I kinda wanted to expand on my choices for my redesigns for fun

So first, Lucifer. I really don’t have a lot of issues with his original design, I think it’s fun and fits within the Hazbin universe! I just wanted to reimagine him.

I always liked the idea of Lucifer having curly reddish hair, something about his fall turning his hair red (this design isn’t 100% biblically accurate as it is just for fun), but I toned down the red to be closer to his original blonde since I also like blonde Lucifer, and I figured he’d liked to keep his hair neat so I decided to put it up and take away the hat

I wanted to keep the ring leader theme in his outfit, but I wanted to further incorporate the snake element in his design since I think he’d be proud of his fall (hence why his suit looks burnt and torn, and he shows off his burnt arm, I figured he’d do this intentionally to remind others of his rebellion)

Lastly I changed the entire family’s main colors to purple, as biblically out of the 7 sins Pride is purple and since he’s supposed to rule pride in the show I figured he’d be more purple themed then red, pretty simple🙏

Next Lilith, I think she was the only one out of the three where I didn’t really like her original design. Not only because she didn’t have much going on, but she also looked really similar to Lucifer, to the point where they almost look blood related.

I think Viv’s choices for Lilith were a bit odd, as she had SOO much potential that just wasn’t used.

I kept her blonde hair but I gave it some tan undertones and I put it up into a semi-low slicked back pompadour inspired by some hairstyles you might see young women have in the early 1900s or late 1800s, but I gave her a little down section that fades into a dark purple and looks somewhat feathery due to one adaption of her describing her as a “screech owl”. I kept the purple theme somewhat like the original and plus she technically rules over pride as well, I would have loved to have given her a red theme if pride was red.

Based on these different adaptations of Lilith a took inspiration from each, giving her a flame-themed dress and the upper body of a beautiful women yet still somewhat demon-like, I also put some fluff at the bottom of her dress since I thought it looked kinda like smoke puffs and clouds. Her stomach is covered with gold rings that look somewhat like a snake belly, and I gave her a necklace with a style inspired by some eastern jewelry, the jewels on her necklace are each the color of one of the 7 sins which I thought would be a fun touch and a little bit of a “showing off” of her role as the queen of hell.

lastly I kept her horns since she is meant to be a succubus, but I stylized them a bit to look less like those big ram-like ones since I didn’t really like how odd they looked against her head. I also gave her long slender fingers that faded to a black naturally as in biblical lore she steals babies from mothers and I thought making her hands that she stole the children with look creepy and eerie yet still beautiful was a nice touch.

Lastly, Charlie! Again, I didn’t really have a problem with the original design. I changed her suit color and theme to prides color, put I made her hair curlier and more red/orange like her dads, and I wanted some parts of her suit to resemble his a bit hence the buttons and the back of her suit going out like her dad’s (but a bit shorter for convenience.)

I imagine her being a bit showy so I kinda decked her out in silver, I thought it’d also be a fun mirroring of how her mom is covered in gold. Her shoes are pretty similar to the original, I put a little split at the front of the shoes in the dark purple since Viv has said she has little hooves which I’m not sure is true but I thought it was a fun idea so I kinda hinted at it with that

I changed her irises (is that what they’re called?) to look more snake-like like her dad, and I gave her little horns since I thought they were cute and I wanted her to maybe show them on purpose because she wanted to blend in more with the citizens of hell so they might feel less intimidated by her presence as the princess, that’s also why I didn’t give her a crown :]

Overall this was just a fun little project I did out of curiosity and boredom, these designs aren’t made to criticize or taunt vivziepop since like I said I love her designs already

[docs-mailbox]

[ there's a note left on a counter. the writing is a little smudged, having been done in a haste. ]

hello, the goat! i have a little game for you.

i've scattered a plethora of candles through your house. not just for fun, though. if you find them all, i'll give you a shiny, shiny gift! perhaps some ore... if you catch my drift. good luck, have fun!

[ a terrible smiley face stares at you from the bottom of the paper. ]

Seeing as he had no plans of leaving his house unattended for any reason, an activity such as this seemed perfect.

A nice, relaxing little break from whatever the fuck was going on with Martyn.

Right off the bat, he found a pink candle in the empty decorated pot he was intending to adorn with a flower. Easy find.

CANDLES COLLECTED: 1

There were a few more candles hidden in his line of sight in the main living area. One under his desk, one behind the monitor that wasn’t hooked up to anything yet, one on top of his dresser drawer, one hidden inside that false tree he was making to conceal the transition between the two building sections, and there was even one under the rug that he only noticed because it felt uneven walking on it. Who hides a candle under a rug?

CANDLES COLLECTED: 6

There was a candle in the area he marked out where he planned on putting his oven. Bit of an odd place to put a candle. Another easy find was… on the door handles? Whoever did this had replaced his door handles with door candles. Okay. Sure. Why not. There was a candle lodged impossibly within a glass bottle in his brewing stand. He had to break the bottle to get it out, and once he did, he noticed an orange candle right where he was meant to put the blaze powder.

A candle in the cupboards. There was a candle inside the leaves of a potted plant. A candle on the ceiling, somehow?

…did they replace some of my bricks with candles?!

CANDLES COLLECTED: 20

Curse him for putting so many storage compartments in his house. They were everywhere. He wasn’t even looking for candles, he was looking to finish his house, and there were more fucking candles. How many candles—?!

One peculiar placement was in his redstone chest. There was a red candle lodged into a redstone repeater, where a torch was meant to go. For what purpose?! What was this meant to achieve?!

CANDLES COLLECTED: 38

His tomato garden was not spared from this treatment. His pots? There were candles. His cherry tomatoes? There were candles. His fucking water streams?! Somehow, there were candles. And even then, he kept finding them in the most ridiculous places. Candles on windowsills. Candles in foliage. Candles on top of his miniature porcelain goat statues. Candles on the roof. Candles beneath rocks. In chests. Inside of door hinges. There was one in his Ender Chest, how the fuck was there a candle in his Ender Chest, who was hiding these?!

The final straw was when he felt an irritating sensation in his robotic arm. He opened a panel, and lo and behold…

A candle. A candle inside his arm. This was beyond explanation.

HOW MANY CANDLES—?!

CANDLES COLLECTED: 77