#I can't remember how I found out about this

[flowergoddessblooms]

"Begin with your account of last Friday. Do not spare any details,"  Detective Harper instructed, shuffling around papers at his desk to make space for his notepad.

Detective Harper was a rather scrawny man in his forties. Not someone visibly suited for the criminal justice system. A man who would probably run as fast as his legs could carry at the sound of a gun shot. That was my first impression of him. Not a word more than necessary, you couldn't tell what was going on behind those hooded eyes of his.

"Begin."

"R-right, yes, last Friday uh... I went to work as usu-"

"Time."

"Uh, Seven thirty- no probably around eight am. I checked in around then, you'll find the records for that I'm sure, I was just a little late, I mean I do stay close by bu-"

"Job."

"Sorry, right, I work at a behavioral therapy centre."

No response.

"Um, I checked in at work, I had two sessions that day with um, Alice and James, um they're kids assigned to me. Uh, it's been a year now, James has shown great development, he can sit still in one place for around 40 minutes and Alice... Alice is getting better at holding eye con-"

"Next."

"Right, er sorry, yes, I left work at 4 pm, uh, went home. I live alone so it's just a small house with a nice yard that I've rented and it's close to work so I don't have to commute, you know how it-"

"Friday Night."

"Uh- uh, I just spent some time playing the guitar, had dinner and went to sleep on the couch, the fire was quite nice and cozy, so yeah, nothing too grand."

Tired of fidgeting with my nails, which had almost begun to bleed, I looked up to meet the Detective's stare. Uncanny, creepy, he wouldn't blink whatsoever.

"Uh- am I done here?"

"You may be called back for further interrogation."

"Right, thank you. I assure you I really haven't done anything. You shouldn't-"

"You may go."

Embarrassed, I hurried to leave, when the door to the office bust open, multiple officers crowding in.

"GET DOWN!" he thundered as two of them tackled me to the floor, cuffing me roughly.

"What ...wh..why...I didn't... Nothing...why...what did I.."

"Oh, you know what you did, you sick bastard."

My eyes whizzed around the room trying to understand the situation, when I noticed one of the head officers, glaring at me as he tossed a small burnt leather notebook onto the Detective's desk.

Bile rose to my throat. My vision blurred. Knees buckled. The room tilted.

"H-how did-"

And the world turned dark.

Diary of _________

Monday, June 27

I'm not a violent person. Even when I was bullied in school, I would quietly take it. I couldn't worry Mom. She would've cried about not being able to provide for the both of us and blamed herself for it all. I couldn't bear to see that. So I never hurt anyone.

THEN WHY IS THERE A BODY IN MY HOUSE

Dinner. It was supposed to be a simple dinner. I had asked my landlord if I could put up a fence. Alex was furious when he saw it go up. Said it brought down the property value in the area. I just wanted to talk. TALK. NOT THIS. I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER KILLING HIM.

Oh God. He's cold. So cold. I don't. I didn't. But he's here. I can't even look at him, his eyes are bulging out of his- oh god. I've puked at least three times now. I feel sick. I need to fix this.

Wednesday, June 29

His maid found him lying on the floor, rotting. I heard her scream all the way here. It was nauseating. I can't stop imagining him... I don't...

And even worse, I found scratch marks on me yesterday. I think I tortured him. I don't remember any of it. WHY

Thursday, June 30

I keep finding my clothes in places they shouldn't be in. My shoes seem weird. They're tracking mud, but I haven't been to any such place in ages! I find my clothes wrinkled up in the laundry basket, clothes I don't remember wearing. I'm scared.

Friday, July 1

AGAIN. I have weird contacts on my phone. People I don't remember calling. People whose numbers I shouldn't have. Am I losing my mind? Do I need to go to the hospital? No. No I can't. The scratch marks. No I can't

Saturday, July 2

I actually yelled at my children today. Alice was in tears. She wouldn't even look at me. What is happening to me? I didn't mean to. I hate myself. I'm so scared. Somebody help me. Please, help me.

Sunday, 3rd July

SHUT UP, WILL YOU? writing a fucking diary. stupid shit. im helping you out. shut up and take it and stop being a little bitch while you're at it.

oh and also don't be a fucking nuisance and sit quietly. like you always have.

WHO ARE YOU?

fucking idiot. that's why everyone uses your dumbass. especially that neighbour of yours. he did have a point, that's an ugly ass fence. but your hoe ass couldn't even defend yourself. you did it because he kept leaving his trash and dog shit and piss on your property. you should've nipped this problem in the bud. im doing you a fucking favour AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?!

fucking ridiculous. and that coworker of yours is so fucking irritating. asshole steals your ideas to pitch. can't even think for himself. and you, you dumbfuck, you wag your tail behind him every time he shows up with shit like pies and candy. fuckers deserved that death.

It can't be. You can't possibly be...No, please, we can't, it isn't right.

oh DON'T YOU HAVE HIGH MORALS

listen here, you little shit. i would've helped you out before if you weren't so fucking nice all the damn time. it was so fucking difficult to wake up. here's a little quiz for you. why do you think that your high school bully graduated on crutches? stupid shit. and don't fuck with me. YOU liked it.

I didn't. I did not.

HAH, what's this? you want to play hero? you fucker, you know damn well you liked seeing him in pain. why deny, loser

Monday, 4th July

HEY YOU LITTLE SHIT ARE YOU IGNORING ME?

Tuesday, 5th July

OH YOU'RE SO GOING TO GET IT

Stop...stop hurting me, I'm sorry. Please, don't break my things, please. The house is a mess. Please.

Why are you cutting my skin? I'm scared.

GOOD. you deserve it. i always have to go the extra mile to earn the tiniest shred of respect, don't i?

Please, please I'm sorry.

you better be. and for fucks sake, pick up a new hobby or something. not that a dumbass like you would understand but it's quite easy to pin blame on a guy who does absolutely nothing, has no alibis and gets harassed.

I'll do whatever you say, I'll pick up a hobby, but please. I don't like my coworkers. Especially Sebastian. Please don't make me go out with them.

whatever. useless as always. i have to do everything around here.

____________________________________

And that is how a month went by. People around me died left and right. It was never the same murder. Strangulation, drug overdose, drowning. He even got someone to crash into Seb's car which ended up killing him. I have no idea how.

But I didn't like Seb anyway. He ostracised me at work and I had trouble getting new clients. Seb spread rumours that I was harassing my clients and stealing my ideas for therapy development. How dare he. I love those children.

At least he won't bother me anymore. Neither will the neighbour. Nor my old bullies.

I was getting happier. I could breathe.

Until the police dropped by.

Wednesday, July 29

What did you do?

Why did the police come by?

ANSWER ME

Thursday, July 30

HEY, I WANT ANSWERS

Friday, July 31

HEY YOU, ANSWER ME, WHAT DID YOU DO, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO, TELL ME

Say something, please

He never responded.

I knew the police had their doubts about me so I threw that book into the fireplace. It was the only damning piece of evidence I knew about anyway. 'Would they find anything else in a lie detector test? Do they even do that now?' I thought as the fire crackled, turning the edges of the diary to ash, burning away my worries.

SO WHY DO THEY HAVE IT?

I SHOULD'VE DISPOSED IT OFF BETTER. WHY AM I ALWAYS MAKING MISTAKES?!

I stared at the Detective, tears in my eyes.

I could feel my vision blur, my peripherals getting darker. My heart was pounding in my ears. I couldn't breathe.

Eternity passed by the time he was done reading. He limped over to me, kneeling to match my eyes.

I can't. I can't look at him. I'm going to puke.

"Court mandated therapy is the best you'll get. If you're unlucky, however...." his voice trailed off as he rose to leave.

"... first degree...but...intentions..."

The room fell silent. Strangled under the pressure of everyone's piercing glare, I choked out, " I didn't inte- ... I didn't .. I didn't have any intentions."

Detective Harper froze in place as he slowly turned to catch my eye.

That was the first expression I saw on his face. A smile.

Pity.

"Oh, but a part of you did."

Your harassing neighbor dies. Then a bullying coworker dies in a crash. Within a month, people you’ve had bad blood with start dying. The police are watching you closely—but you haven’t done anything… at least, not that you know of.

[whumperless-whump-event]

WHUMPERLESS WHUMP EVENT 2025

Welcome back to the Whumperless Whump Event of July, where we celebrate the situational and environmental side of our community via beating the shit out of our blorbos!

FAQ and plain text prompts under the cut!

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: How are the prompts divided?

Q: Where can I find the prompts list?

A: @whumperless-whump-event on Tumblr.

A: The title is a “theme” for the day, followed by two tropes and a dialog prompt.

A: Absolutely.

Q: Can I use the title as a prompt?

A: Not at all.

Q: Do I have to use all of the prompts?

Q: Can I use all of the prompts?

A: Absolutely. If it's fun, go for it--don't feel pressured to finish them all, but do follow what's inspiring you.

Q: If I'm writing a chronological story, can I swap the days to make it fit the timeline?

A: Yes. Just make sure you tag each piece with the prompt and day you're filling.

Q: Can I have early or late entries?

A: Yes. Early and late entries will not be reblogged to the event account, though.

Q: Is there an Ao3 collection?

A: Yes! This year's collection can be found here, or through searching whumperless_whump_event_july2025. Please remember to submit this year's prompts to the 2025 collection and NOT the 2024 one!

Q: Can I write NSFW?

A: You absolutely can, but the event blog will not reblog any prompt fill rated Explicit. Please ensure you tag NSFW appropriately.

Q: Can I use AI?

A: No.

Q: Can a whumper be included in the prompt fill?

A: The short answer is no. The long answer is that you cannot have the role of whumper in your prompt fill (aka: no whumper-on-whumpee); however, if the character you want to be a whumpee or a caretaker happens to be a whumper, then as long as they are not fulfilling the role of whumper, it's fine. Also, if there is a whumper, it must be totally impersonal and faceless. Here are some examples for clarification:

A character's drink is spiked at a party. OKAY: The whumper who spiked the drink is never mentioned and is completely faceless, and the story is directly about whumpee recovering. NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper who spiked the drink kidnaps the whumpee. A character is left alone in a storm. OKAY: The character is stranded or lost. NOT WHUMPERLESS: Whumper tied them to a post and left them in the storm. A character is mugged on the street. OKAY: The whumper is a stranger, faceless, and the focus is on Whumpee. NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper is a stalker and there to kidnap Whumpee.

All in all, if your goal is to fulfill the event, then try to avoid a whumper. If you're using the prompts elsewhere, then ignore this; but in the spirit of the event, no whumper roles please.

Q: How do I tag my posts?

A: Tag with #whumperless whump event, #wwevent 2025 and #wwevent day [x](Don't just tag wwe, that's wresting.) Then, tag triggers and content warnings. Please put these first in the tag order! It just makes it easier to reblog.

Q: How do I get reblogged?

A: Mention this blog in your post! It's the easiest way for me to find you. Otherwise, I won't reblog it. (This also means if you do not want your post reblogged to the event, just don't mention the blog, and it'll stay private.)

I think that's about it. That's a lot, so if you've got any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask. I'm happy to help!

PROMPTS:

INSULT TO INJURY: Infected wounds / Hurt and ill / “Fate really has it out for you, huh.”

PUBLIC MISINFORMATION: Presumed dead / Search party / “There's a hand, I can see them!”

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME: Left behind / Attempted Martyr / “Get out while you can, and don't look back.”

LIKE A KALEIDOSCOPE: Numbness / Dissociation / “Can I hold your hand?”

AT LEAST IT'S NOT MANUAL: Trapped in a car / Stranded / “You can't drive like this.”

DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE: Scheduled execution / Near death experience / “That was too close.”

AHOY THERE MATEYS: Motion sickness / Washed ashore / “I hate the ocean.”

CHEF MIS-STEAK: Hot stove / Slip of the knife / “I swear, I'm usually better at this.”

SCHEDULE YOUR MAINTENANCE: Lack of self care / Sick day / “Just take a nap. I can handle the rest.”

BOOM, CLAP: Gunshots / Sound sensitive / “Shut up, please.”

CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP: Overworking / No time to rest / “We're not safe yet.”

HOW DID WE GET HERE: Isekai'd / Evacuation / “This is not a good place to be.”

A GOOD OLD FASHIONED BEATDOWN: Training mistake / Accidentally hurting someone / “…Let's take a break.”

RIPPED THE RUG FROM UNDER YOU: Despair / Clinging on for dear life / “Please don't leave.”

GET BEHIND ME: Using their body as a shield / Full team whump / “You're such an idiot!”

KNOCK ME OFF OF MY FEET: Collapsing in public / Dizzy / “Woah, there, you good?”

SEEING RED: Bloody nose / Coughing up blood / “Good lord, is all that yours?!”

BREAKING NEWS: Storm Shelters / Huddling for warmth / “It'll be over soon.”

IRRESISTABLE: Venomous snake bite / Spiders / “Man, these bugs really just love you, don't they.”

GOT THE SNIFFLES: Seasonal allergies / Can't stop coughing / “Bring tissues next time.”

FEAR IS THE MIND KILLER: Phobias / Uncontrollable shaking / “I gotta do this. I have to.”

HUG TIME: Touch starved / Comfort / “You're safe. I promise, you're safe.”

RECOVERY PERIOD: Tending to past injuries / Bruises / “Alright. Lecture me before you pop a blood vessel.”

IT WAS ALWAYS BURNING: Wide-scale fire / Third degree burns / “You'll only make things worse if you keep doing that.”

IT'S JUST SPRINKLING: Stuck outside during a storm / Natural disasters / “We should not be out here right now.”

CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE: Flying debris / Pinned / “We gotta get you out of here.”

ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH: Withdrawal / Hangover / “You'll get through this.”

TAKE A WALK (LITERALLY): Hiking mishap / Heatstroke or heat exhaustion / “Can we take a break?”

TAKE A WALK (FIGURATIVELY): Snapping under pressure / Lashing out / “You wanna say that again?”

MIND THE STRINGS: Mind control / Psychic mishap / “Come back to yourself, please!"

ONE WRONG STEP: Caught in a trap / Impaled / “If we remove it, you'll bleed out in seconds.”

ALTERNATES:

THE CLOCK IS TICKING: Losing track of time / Long term coma / “Was I… dreaming?”

IMPROVISED SOLUTIONS: Field medicine / Makeshift gurney / “It's all we have, I'm sorry.”

HARD KNOCK LIFE: Severe concussion / Clumsiness / "Sorry… who are you again?"

UNDER PRESSURE: Can't stop the bleeding / Disrupted healing factor / "Why isn't it working?!"

WHO'S YOUR EMERGENCY CONTACT: Workplace mishap / Distress call / "Talk to me."

SHENANIGANS AFOOT: Time loops / Body swap / "You're scaring me."

A RIVER IN EGYPT: Working through injury / Recovery / "I'm fine. I'm fine."

[bizarrelovetriangel]

shadows.

sylus sees you for the first time since your escape at gaia reseach center and he learns how painful it is to stay away from you.

angst with comfort. inspired by timelock key: shadowed past. spoilers for main story: death and rebirth. brief reference to valleydream bloom

also wanna share this lovely art to visualize this scene: x

Fate can be so cruel.

Is it a gift or a curse that you're standing just a few meters away from him right now?

For the first time in so long, Sylus found every part of him petrified except for his feet that was forced to take heavy steps forward, and his heart that started to pound at the second his eyes recognized your figure.

A cold flash struck him as you brush past each other like complete strangers.

As if he means nothing to you, after everything.

His steps faltered involuntarily.

He wanted to reach out to you.

To grab your hand, just so he can feel you, just so you can acknowledge his existence even just for a fraction of a second.

For all these years, he'd only been watching you through his eye that's empowered by an Aether Core. He'd only been in the distant shadow, making sure no harm comes your way that would take you from this world.

This is the first time he'd seen you right in front of him, close enough to touch you.

And yet, he fought every cell in his body to resist.

He couldn't.

Not yet.

Not until the time is right.

You deserve the freedom and independence that was stolen from you at your youth. You deserve to have a life purely of your own decisions, without him conflicting your path.

Eventually, you'll reach him.

As your souls are bound, you are destined to always find each other, so he will wait for as long as he must.

Ad yet still...

Being patient can be agonizing.

He never braced himself for the day when you'd look past him as if he's just another faceless individual, as if you've never fought side by side, through thick and thin, even before this world became the way it is now.

To him, you're everything.

To you, he's no one.

Sylus now finds his feet buried to the ground, unable to move forward despite your presence long gone.

His throat feels dry, and his legs are tingling with the need to chase after you.

But if he did, what would you do?

What if all this time, you do remember him but you'd rather pretend that he doesn't exist? What if all this time, you simply want nothing to do with him?

The thought of you hating him caused a burning feeling in his chest, making it harder to breathe.

The entire Deepspace could despise him.

But not you.

Anyone but you.

Even if you do end up detesting him... his heart and soul is yours. If he must, he'll stay in the shadows, as long as he can keep looking after you, even if it means watching you be happy without him.

And if you decided to take his life with your own hands....

He wouldn't have it any other way.

His life is yours.

"Sylus! You're still sleeping?"

It was like being pulled out of a portal.

From the moment he heard your voice, Sylus' eyes shot wide open. He slowly sat up and saw you close the door and walk up to his bed, wearing an outfit that you bought recently during a shopping trip together.

His gaze softened as he admires your face, brows furrowed and eyes glaring as you prepare to whack him with a pillow as his punishment for failing to wake up on time like he usually does.

"You said you'd wake up early! At this rate, we'll get to the castle around lunch time. We'll have to pack more food for the picnic. Oh, and we should also get cold drinks along the way because it'll be sunny! We also can't forget about what you made last night — actually I think we should bring a bigger basket..."

He was doing his best to listen to you, but he couldn't fully concentrate because his mind is in shock, still recovering from the nightmare he had.

No, it wasn't just a nightmare.

It was an unpleasant memory that he never liked to recall. Just now, his stomach was churning with discomfort and there's sharpness in his chest while he pictured the look on your face when you walked past him as if he was invisible.

He also recalled the look in your eyes during that day when you've finally reunited, only for you to be repulsed by him. He was reminded of the hopelessness that hit him at that moment. He didn't know what to do, and where to go from there. At that time, you really did want him out of your life.

What if things stayed that way? What if your feelings never changed? What if —

"Sylus."

He blinked out of his terrifying thoughts just as you gently cupped his face, sitting right in front of him with a soft, worried look in your eyes.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Sylus lets out a breath he hasn't realized he'd been holding.

He couldn't help but chuckle, slightly amused that you immediately sensed that something was bothering him.

"Just had an unpleasant dream, that's all." He then took your left hand and planted a soft kiss on your palm.

For a moment, he closed his eyes to feel and appreciate your warmth. His fingers gently held you tighter, making sure that you're not a figment of his imagination.

After all, it wouldn't be the first time his mind played cruel tricks on him.

But as his thumb traced over your knuckles, as your other hand lingered on his face, caressing him quietly, Sylus is certain that this isn't a dream.

You're real.

This time, you're really here and you're holding him just as he always wanted.

This time, you're truly seeing him and accepting him as he is.

This time, you're not pushing him away but pulling him closer.

This time, he doesn't have to hide in the shadows.

This time, he gets to admire the flowers with you.

[chaos--s]

I missed you!

Can i request a yan shark merman (platonic of Course) and a reader thats scared of him?

Remember not to overwork yourself<3

hihi!! sure!! ty for the requesttt :3

platonic yandere! shark merman x merperson! reader

warnings; blood mention, injuries, stalking-ish, for safety and all that.

--

You swat at his clawed hands when they reach for your injured tail again. Slightly glowering at him as you kept a safe distance between the shark man and you.

Your blood had alerted him of your presence, just your luck to accidentally swim right against a sharp rock right in front of where a shark lived. You expected him to eat you, taunt you for your injury or anything evil a shark would do. But he did something even scarier.

He offered to help. Swam up to you with worry riddled in his face as he tried to reach for you. Claiming to want to help you, clearly trying to trick you.

Now he's hovering in front of you, hands itching to reach towards you. Your body is trembling, maybe from the continued blood loss, but mainly because a shark was staring you down.

"I just wanna help, I swear." He flashes a smile, sharp teeth in full view. You flinch back at the sight and shook your head. "Never asked for your help..."

He opens his mouth to reply but shuts it, instead turning around and grabbing some seaweed he had laying around and held it out to you. You eyed it suspiciously and he lays it near your tail.

"It's to stop the bleeding. I can help-"

"No!" You blurt out, grabbing it and wrapping it around your tail messily. Barely enough pressure to stop the bleeding but it was something at least. "Done. I-I'm going now."

You look up meekly, still all too scared to meet his gaze for more than a few seconds. He still looks like he wants to help you out, but he holds himself back and nods. "Stay safe, alright?"

You're gone before he can finish his sentence. Your blood still leaks out of your poorly wrapped wound and a small part of him bites at him to follow you back. You were unaware that more dangerous, bloodthirsty sharks lingered in this area. All you were to them was shark-bait, food. He could protect you.

It wasn't a question of if there would be danger, only if he could be the one to protect you. When a shark darted past him a few moments after your disappear from his sight, that made the decision for him.

--

Your pod. They were nowhere to be found.

It's only been a few minutes but it felt like you've been swimming around. It was your fault that you drifted from the in the first place, you were distracted. And now you were paying the price.

The pain was getting worse, the stupid seaweed wrapped around your tail did nothing. But to be fair, you didn't know anything about dressing wounds properly and all you wanted to do was get away from the weirdo shark.

You spot a nicely sized rock, big enough for you to hide behind and adjust the seaweed. So you quickly swim behind it, sitting down and wincing as you adjusted it.

The moment you unwrapped the seaweed from your tail blood started to flow freely from your wound. You never realized how deep the cut was because you started to become lightheaded from the blood loss. Barely clinging onto consciousness at this point as you attempt to wrap it around your wound again.

You don't notice the looming presence of a new shark behind you, basically salivating at the free food that was just sitting in front of him.

He moves so fast that you can't react until he has you in his grasp.

"You weren't even trying to hide your blood, wanted me to catch you so badly?" A taunting voice floods your ears and you whimpered at the feeling of a clawed hand tighten around your throat.

You start to thrash around in his grip. All it does is make him laugh at you, savoring the fear. Pain erupts in your throat as his clawed fingers dig into them, more blood starting to spill. No one was around to help and you were going to die here-

Thoughts were racing in your head as you felt yourself start to black out.

The grip finally loosens around your neck but you still fall limp, large arms wrap around you and carry you in their arms. "Shit." The voice mutters. "You're alright sweetheart, you're alright."

Huh. The voice sounded eerily familiar, but you paid no mind to it. You're not dead, and this angel of a person was cradling your bruised body so gently.

--

[scary-grace]

if my heart was a house (chapter 4) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) The prequel can be found here: what I can't remember now Written for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The text tone startles you awake a good fifteen minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off, just like it’s been doing for the last week. You only have text tones set for two people, and one of them is fast asleep in her bedroom right now. You open Tomura’s text, your hands shaking and read two words: good morning

Tomura never used to text good morning. Tomura was pretty inconsistent at texting in general. But Midoriya got him a phone, just like he promised you, and ever since, Tomura’s texted you good morning every day. You haven’t gotten used to it. Your heart skips a beat every time you wake up and find a message from him waiting for you.

good morning, you text back. did they wake you up for rounds?

He’s still in the hospital. They keep saying he’ll get released soon, but every time they do, something else crops up that they have to fix before he can come home. Your phone pings in your hands as Tomura responds. every damn day. better than getting a flashlight in my face to make sure I didn’t die overnight.

Your heart clenches tight and twists in a way that’s not good for you this early in the morning. Another text from Tomura pings to life on your screen. did I wake you up

my alarm was about to go off anyway. You hesitate for a moment before sending the next message. not to be weird but I’d rather wake up early than miss out on talking to you.

Your phone starts ringing. You silence it in a hurry, then lift it to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s not weird.” Tomura’s voice is raspy and exhausted. “If you think I don’t want to talk to you all the time, you’re out of your mind.”

You find yourself curling in, pressing your phone hard against your ear so you don’t miss even the sound of his breathing. “I missed you.”

“Missed you more.” There’s a slight catch in Tomura’s voice. “When can I see you? Why haven’t you come to see me yet?”

They’re fair questions. Questions you don’t blame Tomura for asking. Questions he probably wouldn’t need to ask if he knew about Chihiro – who you can’t tell him about unless you’re face to face. “I was going to wait until you were out of the hospital. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Fuck that. I need to see you.” There’s a sharp edge in Tomura’s voice at first, but it dulls almost instantly. “Do you even want to?”

“Of course I do.” The need to see him is overpowering. You remind yourself that you can’t just drop everything and drive to Tokyo out of nowhere at least a few times a day. “I really want to, Tomura. I just have to get stuff settled a bit. And it’s a long trip. I don’t want to have to leave again as soon as I get to you.”

That’s not the only reason. You wish it was, but it isn’t. You’ve been holding off on visiting him because you don’t know how to tell him about Chihiro. And because Chihiro can’t decide if she wants to come, too.

You don’t think it’s a good idea. You don’t thinking breaking the news that Tomura’s got a daughter while his daughter is in the room is a winning strategy, especially since you and Tomura never talked about having kids. Seeing his initial reaction could be bad for Chihiro. Bad for Tomura, too. And part of it is selfish, plain and simple. It’s been so long. You want to see him alone. You want one moment where it’s just the two of you, like it was before, before you tell him something that will change everything for good.

“I want you to stay,” Tomura says. “You might not want to. Once you see what I look like now.”

Spinner’s seen him. You asked Spinner for details over FaceTime a few nights ago, and you saw the stricken look that flashed across his face. He’s been through hell and he looks it. It’s still him, but it’s – bad. “I mean, you’ve always been too pretty to handle.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Tomura used to blush when you said that to him. You wonder if he’s blushing now. “Just come see me. Soon.”

“I will.” Your alarm goes off in your ear and scares the hell out of you, at the same moment as Chihiro knocks on your bedroom door. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll text – and maybe we can talk later if you’re up for it –”

“I’ll be up for it.” Tomura’s voice softens in a way that makes your eyes sting. “I love you.”

He only says it over the phone, never by text. You’re tired of angsting over whether to say it back. “I love you, too,” you say. You hang up the phone, hit snooze on your alarm, and sit up in bed. “Chihiro, are you still there?”

“Yeah.” Chihiro pushes open the door, crosses the room in quick steps, and sprawls out on your bed. “Was that him?”

You nod. “They wake him up early for rounds. Usually we just text.”

“Is he getting better?”

“I think so,” you say. “He keeps asking when I’ll visit.”

Chihiro nods. She turns her head and buries her face in the pillows, speaking facedown just like Tomura used to. “I think you should go see him first. Alone.”

“Really?” You try and fail to hide your shock. “I thought – you didn’t want me to hide stuff anymore –”

“I think you should see him first,” Chihiro says again. Her voice wavers slightly. “I don’t want to be there when you tell him about me. In case –”

She takes a deep breath, lets it go. “In case he doesn’t want me.”

“If he doesn’t want you, he doesn’t want us,” you say. She turns to look at you, her red eyes bright with tears. “I’m serious. You’re the most important person in the world to me, since the day I found out about you. We’re a package deal.”

“But you love him,” Chihiro says. “I heard you say it. I don’t want you to lose him because of me.”

“That’s not what it would be,” you say. You reach out for her, praying she won’t shrug you off, and when she doesn’t, you pull her close. “It’s my decision. My choice to put you first. Chihiro, I – I lived without him for nineteen years. I can do it again.”             “I don’t want you to,” Chihiro says. She blinks, and tears flow down her face. “I want everything to be okay. And if it isn’t – because of me – I don’t want to be there to see it.”

“Okay,” you say. You’ve been walking around with a lump in your throat since you got the first phone call from Tomura. Now it’s a little bigger. “I’ll find a time to go see him.”

“This weekend. Satomi’s family is going skiing, and they said me and Kaori could come too.” Chihiro pulls down the sleeve of her pajama shirt and roughly wipes her eyes. “I won’t be home alone and you won’t have to worry about me.”

“I’ll be worried that you’ll break your leg skiing.”

Chihiro snorts. “Maybe I should. Me and him can meet when we share a hospital room.”

“That’s one way to get to know each other,” you say, and she laughs. Her laughter and Tomura’s are your favorite sounds in the world. “You can change your mind any time this week. I won’t let him know I’m coming until the day of.”

“I’m not gonna change my mind.” Chihiro huddles a little closer to you, and you hold her tight. “I just want to know what happens next.”

“Yeah,” you agree. You kiss her forehead. “Me too.”

“Do you have everything?”

“All my stuff,” Chihiro says. She’s death-gripping the strap of her backpack, and her knuckles are white on the handle of her suitcase. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to go?”

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to go?” you counter. “It’s okay to change your mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind,” Chihiro says. “You need to go see him.”

“I know.” There’s been an anxious knot in the pit of your stomach since your alarm went off this morning, since you responded to Tomura’s good morning text with a heart and nothing else. “I’m going to. I just have to pack.”

“You’re bringing him his games,” Chihiro says, “and the quilt you made. And his clothes?”

“I’m holding off on those. Spinner said he lost a lot of weight.” Your chest tightens at the thought of seeing him again, seeing him soon, seeing him to day. Seeing what nineteen years on death row really did to him. “Thanks for helping me finish the quilt. Now it’s from both of us.”

She doesn’t help you with quilting a lot. This time she offered, and the two of you spent an afternoon together pinning the quilt top to the backing and batting so you could finish it off on your machine. It was nice to spend time together. To talk about Tomura and not talk about him, without the tension that’s been heavy in the air since she found out he was still alive. Chihiro checks her phone. “Satomi is on her way. Kaori had better get here soon. Unless her mom freaked out and said she couldn’t go.”

“I think that’s them.” You can see puffs of snow coming up along the road. Kaori’s mom is kind of a crazy driver. “Okay. I’m guessing you probably don’t want to hug and kiss goodbye in front of everyone – or at all –”

“I want to say goodbye,” Chihiro says. She hugs you tight, like always, and your eyes burn. “Mom, I just – it’s going to be okay, right?”

“No matter what,” you promise. At least for her.

Kaori’s mom skids into the parking lot, spraying you and Chihiro with snow as she careens past to a parking space. You kiss Chihiro’s forehead, then draw back as Kaori and her mom join the two of you. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Kaori says. She glances back at her mom. “I’m not going away forever. Stop crying.”

“I’m not crying,” Rika insists. “The wind is in my eyes!”

“It’s not even that windy!” Kaori rolls her eyes. “Come on, Chihiro. Let’s wait over there. If we pretend we’re leaving now, she can’t embarrass me anymore.”

Chihiro lets Kaori pull her away, glancing once over her shoulder at you. “Go have fun,” you say. “I love you.”

It doesn’t matter if she says it back. The important thing is that she knows. But you’re not going to pretend it isn’t an enormous relief to hear her say she loves you, too.

Satomi’s parents pull up in a ridiculously fancy car, and they aren’t driving themselves. Their driver is the one who hops out to help Kaori and Chihiro load their bags, and Satomi’s mom rolls down the back window to talk to you and Rika specifically. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of them! And take lots of pictures to send!”

“Thank you,” you say. Rika is choking up again. She just nods. “Have a really good trip.”

The Noda family’s driver is a much better driver than you or Rika. Their luxury car doesn’t kick up even a hint of snow or ice as they pull out onto the road. You watch them go, your throat tightening the way it does any time you say goodbye to Chihiro for longer than a school day. You know she’s coming back. You know your house is still her home, and probably will be for a while. And at the same time, you know there will come a day when she leaves and doesn’t come back. A day when home is somewhere else, and you’ll have to find a way to be at home with yourself again, alone. Maybe.

Rika is thinking along the same lines, but she’s a lot less calm about it. “They’re leaving us,” she almost wails. “They’re never going to come back. We’re going to be old and alone forever.”

“No we aren’t,” you say firmly. “They’re going on a weekend trip and they’ll be back soon. Don’t you have a whole wild weekend planned?”

“I’m going to be worried the whole time,” Rika says. She glances sideways at you, then gives you a suspicious look. “Why are you so calm about this?”

“I’m crying on the inside.”

“No you aren’t,” she says. “Why?”

You and Rika have gotten coffee once before, because Chihiro made you. You’re not close enough friends for you to even start to explain this. “I don’t want her to worry about leaving me at home,” you say. “I need her to know that I’ll be fine. And I’ve got some stuff to do this weekend.”

“Staying busy. I like that.” Rika sighs. “I was going to invite you out for girls’ night.”

“That’s really nice of you,” you say, “but I can’t. I’m driving down to Tokyo.”

“Driving?” The look Rika’s giving you makes sense. It’s a thirteen-hour trip by car. “Why?”

You turn up the collar of your coat against the wind, squaring your shoulders as you turn back to your car. “I’m meeting an old friend.”

Once you’re home, there’s not much left to do. You already have Tomura’s things packed. You pack an overnight bag for yourself, along with a change of clothes, then hit the road, your nerves humming worse with every kilometer that passes.

You remember the last time you made this drive. You were four months pregnant with Chihiro, barely able to see the road through your tears, everything you owned jammed into the back of this same car. It felt like the only thing you could do, and it still feels like the worst thing you’ve ever done. Running from your friends, from your past, from your memories. This is when you decided, right? That you would never tell your baby – your son or your daughter, because you didn’t know yet – what happened to their father. It was impossible for you to live with. You weren’t going to put that on your child.

Now you’re going the opposite way, and everything is different. You haven’t gotten used to it, and now you’re out of time, even though the drive is a long one, even though you left bright and early and don’t get there until night is already falling. You park in the hospital parking lot and rest your head against the steering wheel, struggling to breathe. Your phone buzzes. Chihiro, asking if you’re there yet. You tell her yes, tell her you love her. She asked you to come here and tell Tomura the truth, and you promised you would, which means you need to get your shit together. You force yourself to suck down a few breaths, mimicking the pattern your midwife taught you while you were in labor, then get out of the car.

Tomura started out in the hospital nearest to the prison, but then they transferred him to the University of Tokyo Hospital for better care. The receptionist makes you confirm your ID before she’ll give you Tomura’s room number, and once she’s given it to you, she asks if she should call up and let him know you’re coming. You shake your head. This needs to be on your terms.

It feels like the longest walk of your life – first to the elevator, then along the Internal Medicine ward, looking for Room 517. For some reason, you thought it would be quiet, but instead it’s loud, the air full of the sound of machines, announcements, nurses talking, patients’ families chattering in their rooms. Most of the doors are open. Room 517 is closed. You touch the door, wondering if you should knock, and it swings open at the slightest pressure of your fingers.

The first thing you register is how bright Tomura’s room is – not just the light, but the decorations, too. You can tell who’s been here by what they brought. A stack of books, some of which are clearly from Twice; Twice is the only one who’d think to bring comic books. There’s a Switch balanced on Tomura’s nightstand, and games, probably from Spinner. There’s his phone, charging on a fancy charging pad, courtesy of Midoriya. Toga brought Tomura flowers. It takes you a second to find Dabi’s gift, but once you do, you find yourself struggling not to laugh. It’s a voodoo doll, in the shape of Tomura’s adoptive dad, and it looks like it’s been attacked by a porcupine.

The room looks lived-in. Tomura’s been here for a while. But he’s not in the bed like you thought he’d be. Instead he’s sitting on the edge of it, bare feet flat on the floor, his head in his hands.

His hair is so long, but even with it shrouding his shoulders and back, you can tell how thin he is. You’ve never seen him sit that way, his shoulders hunched in a way that looks agonizing, and even in the courtroom when the verdict was handed down, he never looked this defeated. Before you can think better of it, you’re in motion towards him.

Tomura looks up. His face is hollow, his red eyes enormous and shadowed. They widen when he sees you, and he rockets to his feet, stumbling towards you. Everything you’re carrying falls from your hands, your fingers going nerveless and shaky – and that turns out to be a good thing, because Tomura loses his balance two steps away from you. Or maybe he’s falling into your arms. It doesn’t matter what it is, or why. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s free.

Tomura slumps against you, holding on painfully tight. You’d hug him back the same way, but he’s so thin, almost brittle. It’s an effort to keep your grip loose as your hands roam across his shoulders, his back, finding their way to the places you always used to hold. It’s muscle memory to cover the back of his neck, to splay your fingers at the small of his back. This is how it was before. Everything is different, but holding him still feels the same.

Tomura’s face is buried in the side of your neck, his breath huffing out unsteadily against your skin. “You still smell like you.”

“You smell like the hospital,” you say without thinking, and Tomura scoffs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you get up –”

“I’ve been waiting. I don’t want to wait anymore. Tomura claws at your back with shaking hands, keeping you close even though you’ve got no intention of pulling away. “You didn’t say you were coming today.”

A stab of guilt drives through you. “It was a really busy morning. And a long drive. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. You’re here.” Tomura’s response is fast and sure. “Fuck, I missed you so much –”

“I missed you too.” Four words doesn’t feel like enough to describe how it’s felt since they dragged him away from you in the courtroom. You don’t think there are enough words anywhere in the world for that, and your eyes are starting to burn. If you start crying, you won’t be able to hide it holding Tomura like this. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“You’re coming too. And don’t say it’s too small. We used to sleep in a twin.”

“And then we got a bigger bed.”

“I liked the small one better.” Tomura sags against you. “Come on. Please.”

You help Tomura back to the bed, then go to pick up everything you dropped on the floor. Once you’ve set it down next to his bed, you’re back in range, and he pulls you awkwardly onto the bed with him. It’s a tight fit, a lot tighter than the bed in your old apartment, but the way Tomura maneuvers you to get you into the perfect position for him to sleep on is exactly the same. You remember how surprised you were the first time he climbed all over you. How quickly it became your favorite part of falling asleep at night.

“Spinner said you were in Hokkaido,” Tomura says, once he’s gotten mostly settled. “Why’d you go that far?”

“It was quiet,” you say. “Things were hard here, afterward. I thought it would be easier there.”

“Toga thought you’d died or something. Tomura’s grip on you tightens. “You stopped talking to everybody. Nobody heard from you again until the verdict. Why?”

“It’s –” You wonder if Spinner or Midoriya put him onto this, set him up to ask the questions that would lead to this answer. “I needed space. For a lot of reasons. A lot of things changed.”

“Spinner said you weren’t married,” Tomura says, and you nod. “He said you aren’t seeing anyone.”

“You and me never broke up,” you say, and Tomura scoffs again. You can feel tension building in his shoulders. “I was never seeing anybody. I never wanted to.”

Tomura takes a deep breath that rattles and rasps. “Then why weren’t you here already?”

Maybe it’s better this way. You can rip the band-aid off, see how he reacts, figure it out from there. And if it’s a disaster, if everything goes wrong, you still had these few minutes. A little piece of time where you and Tomura belonged to each other again. You’ve lived on less for nineteen years. Maybe it’ll be enough.

There’s no good way to say it. “I found out I was pregnant two weeks after your sentencing.”

Tomura freezes in your arms, but only for a second. Then his grip tightens almost convulsively, tight enough to make your ribcage creak. “You kept it.”

“Yes.”

“What – is it?” Tomura stumbles on the phrasing, his voice shaky in a way that makes you sick to your stomach. “What kind?”

“A girl,” you say. “Her name is Chihiro. She’s eighteen.”

“Eighteen,” Tomura repeats. He’s not pulling away from you, but that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s steeling himself to draw back and tell you to get lost. “Why isn’t she here?”

You’ve spent the last month spinning off in a hundred different directions, catching on a thousand different responses Tomura could have to the news that he has a daughter. All of them were terrible, and none of them were what he just said. “What?”

“Why isn’t she here?” Tomura repeats, and while you’re struggling to find your footing, he’s gotten way ahead of you. “You didn’t come down here right away because you couldn’t leave her. Does anybody else know? Midoriya – Spinner – how fucking many –”

He breaks off, incoherent with some emotion you don’t recognize. “How many people knew about my kid before me?”

“Just Midoriya and Spinner,” you say. “I was on a conference call with them the night your verdict came back, and they heard her call me Mom in the background. And then –”

There’s nothing funny about this situation, but you’re still struck by a miserable urge to laugh. “Spinner accused me of marrying somebody else and forgetting about you, so Chihiro took my phone and switched it to a video call. He was so shocked he dropped his phone.”

“Why?” Tomura’s voice is hoarse. “Tell me.”

“She, um – she looks like you. A lot like you.” You remember looking down into her face after the doctors handed her to you, seeing those red eyes blink open for the first time. “Anyone who knows you and sees her –”

“Do you have a picture?”

“Yeah.” You swallow hard as you fumble your phone out of your pocket. “Here.”

It’s a good picture of her, one of thousands you’ve got saved on your phone. In your opinion, she’s never taken a bad photo in her life, and this one is from her birthday last year, as she smiles over a messily frosted cake studded with eighteen candles. Her smile is lopsided, like Tomura’s is. Her red eyes are crinkled at the corners, and you remember how your heart twisted as you snapped the picture, how you wished Tomura could see her, too. That he could meet her. That all three of you could celebrate together, like a family’s supposed to. Chihiro takes after Tomura, but you see your own shadow in her features. If someone saw the three of you, they’d know you belong together.

Tomura’s breathing hitches as he studies the photo. He reaches out left-handed to zoom in and it’s your turn to stop breathing for a second – the index and middle fingers on his hand are gone. “Tomura –”

“She looks happy,” Tomura says quietly. “Why isn’t she here?”

You don’t know what to say, and half your mind is still stuck on what happened to Tomura’s hand – and just like before, he gets ahead of you. “She doesn’t want to meet me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I get it. Why would she? I’m a convicted murderer –”

“You aren’t a murderer! You were never a murderer.” You can feel your temper starting to rise, even though you aren’t angry at Tomura – just this situation, everything that happened to put you both here. You didn’t realize just how angry you were until now. “She wants to meet you, Tomura. She wanted me to tell you first, because she’s worried you don’t want to meet her.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet her?” Tomura asks. “She’s my kid.”

You were prepared for your heart to break today. You weren’t expecting it to break like this. “You and me never talked about kids. We barely even talked about getting married. She asked if she was planned and I didn’t want to lie –”

“So what if we didn’t plan her? That doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have – you told her I didn’t want her? What is wrong with you?”

“That’s not what I said!” Tears spring to your eyes, and your voice shakes with them, even though you’re the person in this situation with the least to cry about. “I said I didn’t know. I tried to tell you. I wrote you so many letters, and you never wrote back – what was I supposed to think? I didn’t want to get her hopes up if it turned out you didn’t –”

Your voice breaks. Tears slip down your cheeks, and when an impulse you’ve been following for two decades wells up within you, you give in and look away, trying to hide before Tomura realizes that you’re crying. It’s not about you. It’s never been about you since you had Chihiro, so why is this so hard for you to learn? But Tomura won’t let you look away. His hand comes up to the side of your face and turns you back towards him. You can see tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Tomura, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” He’s braver than you are. He’s not trying to look away, and in spite of the tear tracks, his eyes are clear. “I love you. Do you love me?”

“I always have,” you say. “Tomura, if you aren’t okay with –”

“Then it’s fine,” Tomura interrupts. “I was in prison for nineteen years. Nothing makes sense anymore except my friends and you. I love you. And I want to meet our kid.”

“She wants to meet you, too,” you say. Tomura manages half a smile. “Can I tell her?”

Tomura nods. You dig up your phone from wherever you dropped it on the bed and open up Chihiro’s contact. Tomura curls himself around you, chin notched over your shoulder even though you should be the one holding him. “Do you have more pictures of her?” he asks. “Are there any of both of you?”

“I can send some to you. Or you can look through my photos and pick.” In the meantime, you’re hesitating over what to say to Chihiro, just like you would have hesitated over what to say to Tomura if he hadn’t cornered you. Finally you just tell the truth. I told your dad. He wants to meet you.

Tomura nods. “Where is she? Did you leave her alone?”

“No, she’s with her friend’s family. They invited her to go skiing. I think she wanted to have something to distract herself with.”

“She shouldn’t distract herself too much. Not if she took after me.” It feels like Tomura’s trying to crawl into your skin, with how hard he’s got his face pressed into your neck. “I’m clumsy as shit.”

“Only when you’re tired. Nobody’s all that dexterous on four hours of sleep.” You find one of Tomura’s hands and lift it to your mouth, loving the way his fingers curl and flex as your lips brush his skin. His fingers. “Tomura, what happened to your hand?”

“It’s fine.”

“The other one,” you say. “Tell me –”

“Tomura?” The voice is unfamiliar, and it’s coming from the door, which you didn’t quite close when you came in. You try to sit up, but Tomura won’t let go of you, and while he doesn’t let you go far, you’re still able to get a look at the newcomer. He’s really tall, with lavender hair trending silver, and he’s covered in dark purple tattoos – on his arms, his neck, on his face around his eyes. “Who’s this?”

“My girlfriend,” Tomura says. “I told you about her.”

The tattooed man’s eyes widen. “I thought you hadn’t heard from her. You asked me to come back again today because she wasn’t answering your texts.”

“I surprised him,” you say. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. You’re here.” Tomura lets you sit up, but as soon as you do, he’s all over you again. “That’s Kurogiri. He was in the cell next to mine.”

Kurogiri. You look at him, puzzled, and he explains. “My proper name is Shirakumo Oboro. The people I knew while I was in prison call me whichever name they feel comfortable with.”

He rests one hand against the doorframe, tapping his first knuckle against it in a way that strikes you as too precise to be a nervous gesture. He’s giving Tomura a meaningful look as he does it, and Tomura dismisses it with a wave of his hand. “It’s good you’re here. Now you can meet each other.”

Shirakumo keeps tapping away at the doorframe, and suddenly it occurs to you. “Is that Morse code?”

“It’s how we talked in there.” Tomura’s arm wraps tightly around your waist, which is probably a good thing – he’s all over you to the point that you’re in danger of falling off the bed. “Safer than talking out loud.”

“Tomura, we’ve discussed being honest about your experiences,” Shirakumo says. “The people who – love you – should know what really happened.”

Tomura makes a dissatisfied sound. “Fine. We weren’t allowed to talk to each other out loud. We could only talk to the guards if they talked to us first. We had to talk in Morse code so we wouldn’t get punished.”

Your stomach lurches. “You got punished for talking?”

“Not if we were talking in Morse code.” Tomura shrugs. “I practically broke my knuckles telling the guy in the cell next to me to shut up.”

You don’t know what to say. Shirakumo can tell. “Tomura, how much have you told her?”

“There’s more important stuff to talk about,” Tomura says. “I have a kid.”

Shirakumo coughs. “What?” he says blankly, and starts tapping the arm of his chair, only for Tomura to double-tap the bedrail, cutting him off. “Let me finish. I’m not saying –”

“She’s mine,” Tomura snaps. “I’ll show you.”

He grabs for your phone, but it slips through his fingers, and you barely catch it in time. Tomura unlocks it – how does he still know your passcode after all this time? – and pulls up the photo you showed him. “Here. Look.”

Shirakumo reacts the same way to Chihiro’s picture as Spinner did to seeing her on the video call. “I’m sorry,” he says at once. He’s talking to you. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. It’s just – usually if somebody gets out of prison and finds out their partner had kids, those kids aren’t, uh –”

“Theirs,” you say. Shirakumo nods, vaguely embarrassed. “She’s Tomura’s. I haven’t had sex in nineteen years.”

Shirakumo chokes on thin air, but you weren’t saying it for him. Tomura is grinning into your shoulder. “Nice. Me neither.”

“To be fair, nobody was getting laid in there.” Shirakumo’s voice feels almost artificially bright. “I’m glad I’m here, Tomura. Like we talked about before – it might be easier to explain about what happened with some backup.”

“No.” Tomura’s voice goes flat, and you can imagine his expression closing off. “We don’t need to right now.”

“We’ve talked about this, Tomura. The people who love you want to help you, but they can’t help you if you lie to them.”

“I’m not lying. I’m just not talking.” Tomura sends himself the photo of Chihiro, then picks up his own phone, absorbing himself in it. “You can tell her, if it’s so fucking important.”

“Tomura –”

“You should know,” Tomura says. He glances up at you, and you can see that his red eyes have gone tight with pain at the corners. “He can tell you. His memory’s better than mine.”

Shirakumo’s shoulders are tense, too. “It’s your experience, Tomura. I shouldn’t be the one who tells her.”

“She should know. And I can’t.” Tomura fumbles for the call button and presses it, and a few moments later, a nurse comes in. “I want to sleep now.”

The nurse takes a glance at you and Shirakumo – mainly you, since you’re still sort of on Tomura’s bed. “They can stay,” Tomura says. “They need to talk.”

The nurse shoos you off the bed to get Tomura settled, and as you watch, she sets up an IV drip. It doesn’t go into Tomura’s arm, though – it goes into a tube taped to his chest, one that vanishes beneath his hospital clothes. Your stomach lurches. “Is that a central line?”

Tomura shrugs, his eyelids already fluttering. The nurse tugs down the neckline of his shirt to inspect the site. “I told you not to be so rough on this,” she scolds Tomura gently. “The doctors will take it out soon.”

Tomura mumbles agreement, and the nurse leaves. Once she’s gone, Tomura grabs your hand and yanks you closer. “Stay,” he says. “So I know it wasn’t a dream.”

“It’s not a dream.” You raise his hand to your mouth and kiss his fingers, not pulling away until he’s relaxed into sleep.

You lower his hand to the bed, keeping your fingers laced with his, and turn to look at Shirakumo. Shirakumo still looks a little guilty. “Sorry,” he says again. “I’ve come to care a lot for Shigaraki Tomura. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“Why does everyone think I want to hurt him?” You feel your temper yanking on you, and worse, your eyes are starting to burn. “I didn’t leave town to hurt him. I tried to tell him about Chihiro. He’s the one who didn’t read my letters. He didn’t even bother to write back and tell me to leave him alone.”

“He couldn’t,” Shirakumo says. “Once someone is sentenced to death, all contact with the outside world is cut off. I don’t doubt that you wrote him letters, or that you tried to call or visit. The prison wouldn’t allow it. They don’t allow it for anybody on death row.”

He couldn’t write back. Not only could he not write back, he probably didn’t even know you were trying to reach him. You spent so much time hurt, so much time angry, so much time cursing him for leaving things the way he did in the courtroom, for refusing to let you see him or even let you hear his voice. You would have settled for any acknowledgment that he remembered you. All the things you thought to yourself when you didn’t want to live, when Chihiro was the only thing keeping you alive – “Did he know?”

“Not at first.” Shirakumo drags one tattooed hand down his face. “That wasn’t a good day. There were a lot of not-good days.”

Some part of you wants to cover your ears. Some part of you wants to refuse to ask, to demand that Tomura tell you himself. But then you look at him, fast asleep, an IV line attached to a port in his chest. His face is too thin. So is the rest of him. His lips are cracked and his eyes are sunken and two of his fingers are gone, and even if there wasn’t physical evidence of what’s happened to him, you know there’s even more damage you can’t see. You won’t make him relive it just to tell you. But you need to know.

You raise his hand to kiss it again, reminding yourself that he’s here. Alive. Safe. Free. Then you look back to Shirakumo, steeling yourself. “Okay,” you say. “Tell me everything.”

<- Chapter 3

taglist: @lvrrinx @aryuunachigiri @shigarakislaughter @lvtuss @deadhands69 @xeveryxstarfallx @stardustdreamersisi @handumb @warxhammer @atspiss @shikiblessed @baking-ghoul @boogiemansbitch @agente707 @cheeseonatower @koohiii @minniessskii @f3r4lfr0gg3r @dance-with-me-in-hell @evilcookie5 @issaortiz @lacrimae-lotos

[bluetooththereptile]

Just want to say love ur baby hybrid Drabble it was good!!!! Can I request some head canons or anything ❤️

Aww thanks!

Little Asuman was a cooing baby when you found him in a basket, you didn't know his father Bharat had left the baby that had nestled in the basket to go and hunt for a nursing goat so he could nurse his hungry little one, so you took the baby that hugged his fluffy tail to comfort his aching belly and with your magic has given him warm milk, which he had drank greedily.

"Mama?" Asuman, which you had later found out was the name Bharat had found for him from an ancient temple's carvings, had asked for you after you had burped the air out of his little belly in the cutest voice ever, and you had nodded to conform the baby hybrid's words, not wanting to break his little heart.

"Uh oh..." you winced at you saw the mark of a familiar appear on your wrist, the baby had marked you as his caretaker and master and he was giggling, making grabby hands with his fluffy paws "Mama! Mama!"

Bharat, unlike how you had thought was very open about the idea of Asuman's marking, he seemed even proud as he muttered things to his baby boy as he changes his nappies, you couldn't hear much, but your ears picked up the words "Good job" and "No more problem with mating" from his mouth, the deep voice sending chills down your spine.

So yeah Bharat is a tank of a man, he's nearly 8 feet tall, with thick fur over his shoulders and hind legs, his fluffy tail always wrapping itself around little Asuman as the baby would waddle about, you don't know how many times you were about to have an aneurysm when the baby had waddled too far and was about to fall off a cliff and was held back by his father's tail.

Oh right, Bharat loved to fill your ears with questions as you walked down the path of the golden temple, the baby basket over his shoulders, and he didn't hesitate to remind you that "You are *our* baby's mother, so take responsibility!" Every two minutes.

Asuman was an angel from the moment you had seen him though, he never fussed too much or even made a ruckus, unlike his father, he'd just waddle after you "Mama! No tail?" He'd ask with a pout, in worry that you had cut off your tail or something as he looked at your behind in worry, and you needed to explain to him that you didn't have a tail from birth, to which the baby had given a confused look too.

"Mama, baby and Dada!" Asuman squealed in delight as he showed his handiwork made out of piles of mud that had covered all over his body one time, and you can't help bit tear up remembering about the memory since.

Your sisters at your coven would coo and gush over the baby when you'd bring him so he'd help you with your magical lessons, you made sure to lock up the father in the house though, and they'd give baby nursing tips and such, changing his nappies for you and so on, he was unofficially the baby of the coven since the time he came in.

I can think of these for now lol!

[spookberry]

Hi! Your art has gotten me into SteamBat. I'm so behind on Monster High stuff, I wanted to ask; do they ever interact in canon? I honestly can't remember a whole lot about either of their pasts. If not, do you have an idea for their history and how everything went down?

Either way your art is really cute and I'm here for the star-crossed lovers.

Yes they do!!!! In the movie Frights Camera Action.

If you dont wanna go watch it though I'll summarize:

Basically theres this magic vampire artifact called "The Vampire's Heart" its meant to reveal who the Vampire Queen is. The Vampire Court more or less fell apart about 400 years ago due to humans but also because the heart went missing and they couldnt claim a new queen.

Modern day Lord Stoker(current interim leader of the court until the queen is found) claims to have the Vampire's Heart as it reveals Draculaura to be the new queen. The twist is that this heart is a fake and Lord Stoker was hoping he could use Draculaura as a puppet leader while controlling everything himself in the shadows. Turns out tho that the True Queen was in fact Elissabat, his niece, who disappeared alongside the Court's falling apart, and the Vampire's Heart disappearing. Draculaura was actually friends with her back in the day and so the ghoul gang (made up of Draculaura, Cleo, Robecca, and Clawdeen) decide to go find her. They meet other ghouls along the way and the b plot is about this movie series called the Vampire's Majesty that Draculaura hates but is really popular generally. (Vaguely meant to be goofing off the irl Twilight team Edward vs team Jacob thing)

Throughout their journey trying to track down what happened 400 years ago and where Elissabat went, Robecca starts having these odd feelings. She never met Elissabat or had even heard of her til now but she feels this odd connection to her. Robecca's desire to find Elissabat is almost entirely removed from the goal of needing to find The Queen in order to save the court from Lord Stoker. By the end Robecca's weird connection to Elissabat becomes their guide, leading them to her.

In the movie when they finally find Elissabat it is revealed that the Heart was entrusted to Hexiciah Steam who used it to build his daughter Robecca. It now resides inside of her as a power source. (Therefore it spent at least 100 years laying in the catacombs before the ghouls found Robecca and pieced her back together)

The fact that Robecca's literal actual heart is intended to find Elissabat and to glow in her presence is kinda dropped after that. There's other plot stuff going on. Personally if it were me I'd take more time to explore Robecca's feelings on all this. The movie frames Elissabat as taking the throne back willingly cuz shes now ready but like... Part of the problem in finding her is that Elissabat didn't just run away as a means of staying safe from her power hungry uncle(who its implied killed her dad) but also because she doesnt Want to be the Queen.

She has dreams and Goals of her own. She's an actress!! Thanks to braces and lasik her physical appearance is quite different(plus i like to imagine she styled her hair differently, even if thats not canon to the movie) people don't really recognize her by the time film comes around. Her stage name is Veronica Von Vamp btw and she happens to be the star of that movie series Draculaura hates lmao. And its kinda just implied that she just does both now after all this with her identity just out in the open. I feel like itd kinda suck. So I like to imagine she's got a bit of a Hannah Montana situation going on with her identities. Obviously her friends and trusted court members would know, but otherwise she keeps the two lives separate in some way.

My take would either to have her be a small time actress, she works on indie films and stage shows primarily. Maybe the Vampire's Majesty was something she did more out of nostalgia and never expected it to get as big as it did. So after its over she keeps taking on smaller projects and less known stuff because acting is her true passion.

There's not really enough time to deal with her angst about becoming Queen to protect Draculaura/get rid of her Uncle and how that effects her life. But I do love to think about the fall out of that decision and how she copes, maybe Robecca helps her through that which leads them to developing a romantic relationship.

[gideonisms]

wizard fuckability as rated by me, a lesbian

Elias bouchard--has a certain charm if you like rich old men who are a bit neurotic and if you have never had a boss before. But I have. 2/10 (points for manipulating a man into being the center of his ritual)

John Gaius--truly who's doing it like him. His bisexuality is only outdone by his insane quest for revenge and how much he wanted to fuck the Earth. he's getting straight divorced, he's getting gay divorced, he's getting stabbed, he's gaslighting everyone he knows, he's making awful jokes and he is desperate for love. given that his sperm contains the genetic material needed to open the tomb that will release the only girl who can kill him and end his terrible death cult empire, fucking him may actually be praxis. 11/10 I probably would

Anaander mianaai--well she's got a million bodies and she's voiced by adjoa andoh in the audiobook making this a strong WOULD for me 20/10 but she may kill me after

Belthandros Sethennai--he's unfortunately kind of out of it half the time due to being the incarnation of a god or something, idk, I've forgotten most of the plot of the unspoken name but I remember him because I found him unexpectedly charming in the worst way. 7/10, if you're into wizards you'll find him hot. If not, he probably won't win you over

Gendo nge--well 2 women do fuck him but I'm still not sure why as his main personality trait seems to be exploiting vulnerable teenagers and he is deeply unlikeable for the entire show. -20/10 not only would I not fuck him I'd try to run him over in my toyota corolla. actually hang on I'm still paying for that thing I'll need to borrow someone else's car

Akio ohtori--look. I would not but that's because I'm too busy reporting him to the authorities. He's hot and charming enough to get at least one adult woman to fuck him and I can't say that, if you completely abstract him, I wouldn't have been attracted to some version of him when I was going through an anime boys stage as a teenager. 🌵/10 yeah I can't rate him

gandalf--10/10 I deeply would not but I hope the right man or woman is out there for him somewhere because I truly believe in my heart that a relationship with him would be a lot of fun if you have the right temperament

Shuos Jedao--canonically a texan. loves to manipulate the average lesbian but is charming enough and the goals he has seem reasonable enough that you kind of can't even hate him for it. He can't actually fucking count which is relatable. 8/10 I'd get a beer with him but not let him take over my body

hohenheim fmab--so when I thought I was straight this man was my type. Yeah, I liked them kind of sweetly pathetic and absent, though still knowledgeable about a number of magical rituals. I'm gonna say 6/10 because I think if you want a man who's actually there this is not the man for you

the darkling--okay full disclosure i've only seen the show. And based on the show I'd give his personality a 4/10 but he is played by Ben Barnes who I CAN picture as a hot butch and who did wear a lot of really great robes. 6/10 for those reasons

Okay that's all the wizards I can think of atm enjoy my unbiased opinion if you are looking to pick yourself out a wizard and give them a home

[honeydippedfiction]

Screens & Shadows

Track 2 of Off The Record

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Synopsis: Plagued by pressure and insomnia, college quarterback Joe Burrow finds unexpected escape in late-night cam shows, forming a fixation that blurs the line between curiosity and obsession. As the demands of football and campus life intensify, he’s pulled between the image he must uphold and the secret world he can't seem to leave behind.

Warnings: Mild Language, Sexual Content, Mental Health / Emotional Distress, Addiction / Obsessive Behavior.

Themes: Isolation vs. Connection,, Performance Pressure & Identity, Digital Intimacy & Voyeurism, Coming-of-Age / Transition

WC: 5k

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A/N: how're we liking this so far???

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

⏮️Rewind Next track⏭️

August 2018

It was one of those long, humid summer nights where sleep never came easy. Joe had spent hours tossing and turning in his bed, the pressure of the upcoming season gnawing at him even in the quiet of the night. His mind refused to shut off—thoughts of practice, plays, expectations swirling in his head.

He reached for his phone, his mind seeking some distraction. Scrolling through social media, he found himself aimlessly clicking through posts, stories, and memes. Nothing grabbed his attention. The cool light of the screen was a poor substitute for sleep, but he had long learned to accept this was his routine during stressful times.

After a while, he grew bored of the usual scroll and, half out of curiosity, he opened up a tab and began browsing mindlessly. Eventually, he clicked on a link that led him to a site he didn’t recognize—a cam site.

The page was filled with small video thumbnails, each representing a different live stream. Some showed girls pleasuring themselves, others performing various sexual acts, and others just chatting with their viewers. Joe scrolled through them, feeling a mix of curiosity and hesitation. He wasn’t really into this sort of thing, but something about the anonymity of it all piqued his interest.

He clicked on a stream that caught his eye. The girl on the screen was beautiful, with long brown hair and piercing green eyes. She was wearing a lacy white lingerie set that complemented her curves perfectly. She was sitting on a bed, facing the camera with a seductive smile.

“Hi there, handsome,” she purred, winking at the camera. “Welcome to my room. I hope you’re ready for a good time.”

Joe felt his heart rate increase as he watched her. He couldn’t believe how sexy she was. She started to tease him, slowly pulling down the straps of her lingerie and revealing her perfect breasts.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, running her hands over her body. “I know you do. I can see it in your eyes.”

Joe felt himself getting hard as he watched her. She was so confident and sexy, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He reached down and started to stroke himself, matching the rhythm of her movements.

The girl on the screen noticed and smiled. “Oh, I see you’re enjoying yourself,” she said, her voice husky. “Why don’t you tell me what you want me to do?”

Joe hesitated for a moment, feeling a little embarrassed. But then he remembered that no one could see or hear him. He was completely anonymous. So, he decided to go for it.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he typed into the chat box. “Show me how you like it.”

The girl’s eyes lit up as she read the message. “Oh, I like a man who knows what he wants,” she said, biting her lip. “Watch closely, baby. I’m going to show you exactly how I like it.”

As Joe continued to explore the world of camming, he came across another stream that caught his attention. This one was different from the others. The screen showing a woman’s silhouette against a backdrop of soft lights and muted music.

The first thing Joe noticed was her voice—smooth and confident, laced with an almost hypnotic undertone. She was speaking to her viewers, chatting casually, but there was something different about the way she held herself, a control in her every word. She wasn’t showing her face, but the way she carried herself, the way she spoke—it felt like she had an invisible connection with everyone watching.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, Joe found himself mesmerized. The other streams were a blur in comparison. He couldn’t pull his eyes away.

There was a magnetic energy to her. She knew how to command attention, how to make even the smallest gesture seem deliberate. She wasn’t showing much—just a hint of skin here, a teasing smile there—but everything about her radiated power.

The girl on the screen wasn’t showing her face or much of her body. She was sitting in front of the camera, her long brown curly hair cascading over her shoulders. She was wearing a simple white tank top and shorts, but there was something about her that drew Joe in. He wanted to know more about her, to see what she looked like underneath her clothes.

As he watched, she slowly started to tease her audience. She lifted her tank top slightly, revealing a glimpse of her flat stomach. Then, she ran her hands through her hair, the movement causing her top to shift and reveal a hint of cleavage.

Joe felt himself growing hard again as he watched her. There was something incredibly sexy about her confidence and the way she moved. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“Do you want to see more?” she asked, looking directly into the camera. Her voice was soft, but it held a power that Joe couldn’t ignore.

He hesitated for a moment before typing a message into the chat. “Yes, I want to see everything.”

The girl smiled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Oh, I bet you do,” she said. “But you’ll have to wait. Good things come to those who wait, you know.”

Joe groaned in frustration, but he couldn’t help but be turned on by her teasing. He reached down and continued to stroke himself, his eyes glued to the screen. He couldn’t wait to see what she would do next. He had a feeling it would be worth the wait.

She wasn’t anything special in the traditional sense. She didn’t show any part of her body but a hint of a flat stomach and the bottom of her breast. She didn’t have to. The way she carried herself—the confidence she exuded with each movement—was enough. Joe found himself captivated, unable to look away even when he tried to convince himself he should leave. The other streams, with their explicit displays and desperate pleas for attention, felt cheap and vulgar in comparison. She was in control, and everyone knew it.

She never addressed Joe directly, but that didn’t matter. He felt seen, included in her world in a way that transcended the screen between them. He was part of an intimate group, united by their desire and their willingness to submit to her allure. It was a strange kind of connection, but it was undeniable.

As the night wore on, Joe became increasingly aware of his body’s reactions. He felt a stirring in his groin, a heat that spread through him as he watched her every move. It wasn’t just about the sexual tension; it was about the power she held over him, the way she could make him feel without even acknowledging his presence.

He tried to resist at first, telling himself he shouldn’t be affected by a stranger on the internet. But it was no use. She had a way of drawing him in, of making him forget everything else. All that mattered was the screen in front of him and the woman who commanded it with such grace and confidence.

As the minutes passed, Joe’s initial hesitation faded, replaced by an odd sense of curiosity. He didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to engage. Without thinking, he sent a tip through the stream, just a small amount.

There was no immediate response—at least not one he could see. But in his mind, it felt like a small act of connection. He had crossed a line, but it felt strangely satisfying.

And that was it. Just a small tip. But it became a routine. Every night, when the rest of the world was asleep and the dorms were quiet, Joe would slip into the cam site and find himself drawn to that same stream.

As the days went by, it became a habit. A late-night ritual. The nights grew longer, the season inching closer, but Joe’s curiosity about the girl on the screen didn’t wane. He didn’t know why, but something about her—her presence, her confidence—pulled him back, night after night.

She was a master of seduction, knowing exactly when to tease and when to reveal just enough to keep her viewers hooked. She had a way of making each person feel special, as if they were the only one watching, even though there were hundreds of others in the chat.

Despite the late hour, Joe couldn’t bring himself to look away. He was captivated by her, drawn into her world in a way he hadn’t experienced before. It was as if she had cast a spell over him, one that he had no desire to break.

As he sat there, watching her every move, Joe began to feel a familiar stirring. The girl on the screen seemed to know exactly what she was going to him, how she affected him.

She teases them, her viewers, by smiling at their increasing donations that are coming in. Even though they don’t see her face, they know she’s beautiful. She’s got to be. 

Joe is still watching, unable to peel his eyes from the screen, as she begins to lift her tank top, revealing more of her skin. Her flat stomach comes into view, smooth and toned. She continues to raise the hem, and the bottom of her breasts becomes visible. Joe’s heart rate increases, and he feels a rush of adrenaline as he waits for more. 

She pulls the top over her head, revealing a black lace bra that accentuates her curves. Her tits look perfect, and Joe can’t help but imagine what they would feel like in his hands. She plays with the straps of her bra, teasing her audience with the possibility of taking it off.

Joe is getting impatient, and he types into the chat, “Take it off.”

The girl looks directly into the camera, a smirk playing on her lips. “You want me to take it off, baby? What are you going to do for me?”

Joe hesitates, but then types, “I’ll tip you $20.”

She raises an eyebrow, considering his offer. “$20? That’s not enough, baby. I want more.”

Joe feels a surge of frustration. He wants to see her breasts so badly, and he’s willing to pay for it. He types, “How about $50?”

She smiles, seemingly pleased with his offer. “Now we’re talking, baby. But I want to make it interesting. If you want to see my tits, you have to earn it. Are you up for the challenge?”

Joe’s heart skips a beat. He’s not sure what she has in mind, but he’s willing to do anything to see her naked. He types, “Yes, I’m up for it.”

The girl smiles, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Good boy,” she purrs. “Here’s what you have to do. You’re going to edge yourself for me. You can stroke your cock, but you can’t cum until I give you permission. And if you cum without my permission, you have to pay a penalty. Are you willing to play by my rules?”

Joe feels a rush of excitement mixed with a little fear. He’s never done anything like this before, but the thought of pleasing this beautiful woman is too tempting to resist. He types, “Yes, let’s do it.”

She smiles again, looking pleased with his response. “Good boy. Now, stroke that hard cock of yours. I want to see how badly you want this.”

Joe feels his face flush with embarrassment, but he’s too turned on to care. 

The girl gasps, “Oh my, you’re a big boy, aren’t you? I can’t wait to see what you can do with that thick cock of yours.”

Joe feels a surge of pride at her words. He starts to stroke his cock, slowly at first, savoring the feeling.

“Mmm, that’s it, baby,” she moans. “Stroke that big cock for me. Show me how much you want my tits.”

Joe obeys, increasing his pace as he watches her react to him. She starts to touch herself, running her hands over her curves as she imagines him pleasuring himself. Joe can see the outline of her panties under her shorts, and he longs to tear them off and fuck her senseless. But he knows he has to follow her rules if he wants to see her naked.

As Joe continues to edge himself, the girl starts to tease him more. She stands up and turns around, giving him a view of her perfect ass. She pulls down her shorts, revealing a black lace thong that leaves little to the imagination. Joe groans at the sight, his cock twitching with desire.

The girl looks over her shoulder, giving him a sly smile. “Like what you see, baby?” she asks, wiggling her ass at him. “Do you want to fuck me?”

Joe nods, unable to form words. He’s so turned on he can barely think straight.

The girl turns back around, facing the camera. She pulls her shorts back up, leaving Joe feeling frustrated and impatient.

“Don’t worry, baby,” she says, reading his mind. “You’ll get your chance to fuck me. But first, you have to prove that you can follow my instructions. Keep edging yourself for me. I want you to be desperate to cum by the time I let you.”

Joe nods again, feeling a mixture of anticipation and desperation. He continues to stroke his cock, trying to hold back his orgasm as long as possible.

“Good boy,” she says. “You’re doing so well. I think you’ve earned a reward.”

Joe looks at her hopefully, wondering what she has in mind. She smiles and reaches behind her back, unclasping her bra. She lets it fall to the ground, revealing her perfect breasts. Joe gasps at the sight, his cock throbbing with desire.

“Do you like them?” she asks, cupping her breasts in her hands. “They’re all yours, baby. You can look at them as long as you want.”

Joe nods, his eyes glued to her chest. He continues to stroke his cock as he drinks in the sight of her beautiful body. He can’t believe he gets to see her like this, and he feels grateful and lucky. The girl smiles at him, clearly enjoying his reaction.

After a few minutes, she says, “Alright, baby. It’s time for you to cum. You’ve been such a good boy, and you deserve it. Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love my tits.”

Joe doesn’t need to be told twice. He strokes his cock faster, feeling his orgasm building. The girl watches him, biting her lip as she waits for him to cum.

Finally, Joe can’t hold it back anymore. He cums hard, shooting his load all over his stomach. He groans in pleasure, feeling relieved and satisfied. The girl smiles, looking pleased with herself.

“Good boy,” she says again. “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

Joe feels a sense of accomplishment and pride. He’s never felt this way about a woman before, and he realizes that he’s falling for her. He wants to meet her in person, to touch her and kiss her and make love to her. He knows it might not be possible, but he can’t help how he feels.

The girl starts to put her clothes back on, and Joe feels a pang of disappointment. He doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to stop looking at her beautiful body.

“Thank you for joining me tonight. I had a lot of fun with you, and I hope you did too.” He can hear the smile in her voice as she reaches for her camera before turning it off. The screen goes black, and Joe is left alone with his thoughts.

He realizes that he doesn’t even know her name, doesn’t know anything about her other than what she’s shown him tonight. But he feels a connection with her that he can’t ignore. He closes his laptop, his mind racing with thoughts and fantasies. He never expected to find someone like her. But there she was, a faceless figure on the other side of the screen, and for some reason, she had captivated him. And just like that, he was hooked. 

Joe woke up the next morning with a mixture of emotions swirling inside him. His encounter with the camgirl from the night before had left him feeling both exhilarated and confused. He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind, the way she had commanded the screen with such confidence and grace.

—

For Joe, the beginning of the fall semester marked more than just the start of classes—it was the opening chapter of something larger, something heavier. With the football season looming, practices had intensified almost overnight. Each day brought more reps, more drills, and more time spent under the watchful eyes of the coaching staff. The Louisiana heat didn’t let up, and neither did the expectations.

Even as he adjusted to the rhythm of LSU’s football program—the cadence of the calls, the tempo of scrimmages, the unspoken hierarchy in the locker room—Joe felt a different kind of pressure simmering beneath the surface. The weight of proving himself. Not just as a quarterback, but as a leader. As someone worthy of the trust that came with the jersey.

Off the field, he was still finding his footing. Navigating the sprawling campus, learning the professors’ quirks, figuring out how to juggle team meetings with online quizzes and 8 a.m. lectures—it all felt like a constant balancing act. Amid the whirlwind, his dorm room in West Campus Apartments became more than just a place to sleep. It was a small, personal refuge. A quiet place where the noise dimmed—the noise of cleats on turf, of shouting coaches, of students rushing between classes—and he could finally exhale.

But college life had a way of creeping in, breaking down even the most determined walls.

It started subtly. A few nudges here and there from Ja'Marr and Justin—his go-to guys on the team, both charismatic, both effortlessly social. They weren’t just teammates; they were connectors, bridge-builders between the insulated world of college athletics and the broader, chaotic spectrum of student life.

“Come on, man,” Ja'Marr had said after practice one day, tossing a towel over his shoulder as they walked back to the locker room. “You can’t just hole up in your room all semester.”

“Exactly,” Justin chimed in, cracking open a bottle of water. “We’re not robots. You gotta unwind a little. It helps.”

Joe had shrugged at first, unconvinced. “I don’t know. I’ve got that film session tomorrow. And Coach Brady's gonna quiz us on protections again.”

Justin had laughed. “One night’s not gonna kill your GPA or your spot on the depth chart. Trust us.”

By the time the first week of classes wound down, their persistence paid off.

It was Friday afternoon, and the golden light slanting through the blinds in Joe’s room cast long shadows across his desk. His phone buzzed—a message from Justin.

"You coming with us tonight? Greek rush event. Should be fun," followed by a string of emojis: fire, beer mug, and a winking face.

Joe stared at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering.

Greek life. The idea made him hesitate. Everything he knew about it came from over-the-top movie portrayals—red Solo cups, toga parties, chaotic chants—and none of it exactly screamed “relaxing evening.”

Still, something about it tugged at him. Maybe it was the curiosity. Or maybe it was the need to feel like a normal college kid for once, to blend into the crowd instead of always standing apart as the quarterback.

He sighed and leaned back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He could hear laughter echoing faintly from down the hall—someone had their door open, music playing low. There was a pulse to campus life now, a rhythm outside the weight room and playbook, and Joe knew he couldn't ignore it forever.

A few more seconds passed before he picked up his phone and typed out a reply.

“Yeah, I’ll go. Just tell me what to wear.”

Within seconds, Justin responded.

“Just be chill. Polo, jeans. You’ll be fine. We’re swinging by to grab you at 8.”

At 7:58, there was a knock on his door.

Joe opened it to find Ja'Marr in a fitted LSU polo and sneakers, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place.

“Damn, look at you. You clean up alright,” Ja'Marr said with a grin. “Let’s go, Burrow. You’re about to see what LSU is really like.”

Justin appeared behind him, already scrolling through Spotify. “Got the aux. You’re riding with me. And no, you don’t get to pick the playlist.”

They laughed, and for the first time in days, Joe found himself genuinely smiling.

As they made their way across campus, music thumping in the car and windows cracked to let the thick night air in, Joe felt a flicker of something unexpected—relief. Maybe even excitement.

Tonight wasn’t about drills or depth charts.

Tonight was just about being twenty one, figuring things out one experience at a time.

And for now, that was enough.

It was just after eight when they pulled up to the Alpha Gamma Rho house. The old two-story sat at the edge of campus, partially hidden beneath a canopy of oaks, its wide porch glowing with a mix of string lights and flickering shadows. Music pulsed from inside—some blend of Top 40 and bass-heavy house—and the lawn was already dotted with clusters of students, their laughter loud and unfiltered in the warm Louisiana air.

Joe stepped out of the car, the door thunking shut behind him, and took it all in. The scent of beer and grass lingered in the breeze, and there was a restless energy in the air, the kind that felt like anything could happen.

“You good?” Justin asked, slinging an arm over Joe’s shoulder as they started toward the house.

“Yeah,” Joe said, though his voice was a little uncertain. “Just… taking it all in.”

Ja’Marr, walking ahead, glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. “You look like a freshman on his first night out.”

“I am a freshman,” Joe muttered.

“Exactly,” Ja’Marr shot back, laughing. “Act like it.”

The front porch was wide and creaked underfoot as they crossed it. Two girls sat on the railing, deep in conversation and sipping from Solo cups. One of them waved lazily at Justin as they passed, and he tossed a wink her way.

Inside, the house buzzed with movement. People stood shoulder to shoulder in the hallway, talking over the music and weaving around one another with practiced ease. The walls were lined with old photos and frat memorabilia—framed composite shots of past brothers, event posters, trophies half-forgotten in corners. The air was warm, filled with that distinct mix of cologne, perfume, and spilled drinks.

Joe stuck close behind Justin, who moved through the crowd like he belonged there—which, Joe realized, he probably did. Justin had that effortless social rhythm that some people just had, the kind of presence that made others turn when he walked in.

“Alright,” Justin said, glancing back. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

They stepped into the living room, where a few couches had been pushed against the walls to make room for dancing and impromptu beer pong games. That’s when Joe saw her—standing near the base of the stairs, dressed in an oversized LSU hoodie, curly hair bouncing as she laughed at something a tall guy in a Omega shirt had just said.

“That’s Leilani,” Justin said, nodding in her direction.

“She plays volleyball?” Joe asked, already piecing together what little he’d heard.

“Yep. Outside hitter. She’s got a killer spike and a sharper tongue, so don’t get cute.”

Joe arched a brow. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

Justin smirked. “Man, I am the experience.”

As if on cue, Leilani spotted them and lit up. She cut through the crowd, her energy magnetic, drawing a few curious looks as she passed.

“There you are,” she said, pulling Justin into a quick hug before turning her attention to Joe. “So you’re the mysterious quarterback I keep hearing about.”

Joe offered a half-smile. “That depends—what exactly have you heard?”

“Just that you throw a tight spiral, don’t go out much, and might be allergic to fun,” she said, extending a hand, then quickly shifting it into a fist bump. “But I’m willing to let you prove me wrong.”

Joe laughed. “No pressure, right?”

“Not at all,” she said, eyes dancing. “Just your whole social reputation on the line.”

“Great,” he said, falling into step beside her as they moved toward the kitchen. “So what’s the initiation drink for a guy trying to not look like he wandered in by accident?”

Leilani tilted her head thoughtfully. As she led them through the kitchen, Joe glanced at Justin, who just shrugged and mouthed, Trust her.

The kitchen was a mess of half-empty bottles, melting ice in coolers, and a playlist that bounced between hype and nostalgia. Leilani moved confidently through the crowd, grabbing two clean cups from a stack on the counter.

“So,” she said over her shoulder, “first Greek event?”

“Yeah,” Joe admitted. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re standing like you expect someone to throw a blitz package at you,” she said, pouring a drink and handing it to him. “Relax. No one's analyzing your footwork.”

He took the cup, smiling despite himself. “It’s not really my scene.”

Leilani leaned against the counter and took a sip of her own drink. “You’ll figure it out. You just need to find your people. Everyone’s awkward at first.”

Joe looked around—at the dancing, the noise, the chaos—and nodded. “This just feels so different from practice, meetings, all that. Like a different world.”

“It is,” she said. “And trust me, you need both. You burn out if you try to live only in one. This place”—she gestured around—“it's where people let their guard down. You’d be surprised how many captains, presidents, and high-GPA overachievers are in here doing the worm by midnight.”

He laughed. “So you’re saying I should loosen up.”

“I’m saying,” she replied, “you don’t have to be ‘the quarterback’ all the time. Tonight, you can just be Joe.”

As she poured a mix of something clear with a splash of cranberry, she glanced over at Joe. “So what made you come out tonight?”

He hesitated for a beat before answering. “I guess I wanted to see what college is really like, outside of practice and film sessions.”

She handed him the cup and leaned against the counter. “Let me guess—you’ve been eating, sleeping, and breathing football since the day you got here.”

“Pretty much since birth, if I’m being honest.”

Leilani took a sip from her own cup. “Well, this”—she gestured around them—“this is part of it too. Not just the games or the training rooms. It’s nights like this. Messy, loud, maybe a little overrated, but real.”

Joe nodded slowly, appreciating her honesty. “You sound like you’ve figured it out.”

She laughed. “God, no. I’m winging it like everyone else. But I’ve learned not to let the pressure eat me alive. You either find a way to be a person outside your sport… or you burn out fast.”

They stayed in the kitchen a while longer, talking in bursts between people dropping by to say hi to Leilani or ask for a drink recommendation. Joe found himself relaxing—actually relaxing—for the first time in weeks. She asked about Ohio, his classes, his music taste (which she called “questionable” when he admitted to liking early 2000s emo rock), and he learned that she was majoring in kinesiology, planning to go into sports therapy after graduation.

“Gotta keep athletes like you from falling apart,” she said with a smirk.

Later, when the party spilled onto the porch, Joe followed her and Justin outside, Solo cup in hand, sweat cooling on his neck. The porch was quieter now, the music muffled by walls and bodies. The playlist shifted to slow jams and throwbacks, and people drifted out to the porch or slumped onto couches. Joe found himself on the front steps, the wood warm beneath him, a gentle breeze tugging at his collar.

A few people lounged on the steps, passing a bag of chips around like it was contraband.

Leilani sat down on the top step, pulling Justin down beside her. Joe took the spot on her other side, stretching his legs out.

“Not bad for your first party,” she said.

“Still intact,” Joe said, lifting his cup in a mock-toast. “Thanks to you.”

Justin nudged him. “Told you she runs this place.”

“She does,” Joe said, watching the way she laughed at that, half-buried in Justin’s shoulder. And for the first time, he understood their rhythm. They were opposites, but solid. There was no flirtation, no tension. Just trust. She was the kind of person who knew exactly who she was—and made room for others to figure themselves out, too.

“So what’s next?” Joe asked.

Leilani glanced at him. “Next for what?”

“For this whole college thing. Football. Friends. Figuring it all out.”

She grinned. “You keep showing up. You keep asking questions. You keep saying yes to things that scare you a little. That’s pretty much it.”

Joe leaned back, letting her words sink in as the porch light flickered above them. It wasn’t the stadium, and it wasn’t the weight room. But maybe it mattered just as much.

Then, almost without thinking, he turned to her and asked, “So when’s your next volleyball game?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Coming to scout?”

“Coming to support,” he said, and meant it.

A slow smile spread across her face. “Wednesday. Six. Don’t be late.”

As the night wound down and the music faded into background noise, Joe leaned back on his hands and looked up at the stars.

He looked at Justin, then at Leilani, then out at the people dancing on the lawn like nothing outside this moment existed.

For the first time since arriving on campus, he didn’t feel like he was passing through someone else’s story.

He felt like he might be starting his own.

JB9 Taglist: @lilfreakjez, @dasia21, @superanastasia1981, @gg-trini, @wickedfun9, @irishmanwhore, @danielle143, @kayyybay

Series Taglist: @kayyybay

[macknshift]

SOPHIA JARVIS STARK, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!

A/N: a little drabble based off of an edit i made for my tiktok that i couldn't post as a caption bc tiktok needlessly censors anything and everything EVER like let me say Fuck i am Twenty One (21!!!) years of age u dumb fucks!!!!! but anyways no enjoy this lol

Sophia feels kind-of stupid, liking him. Unintelligent, even. He's contractually obligated to protect her (he showed her the contract the night she figured out he was Comet,) and yet, she's developed a big—no, a honking—crush on him.

The worst part is that she has not a soul to consult about this. She's never read about this situation, and sure, her friends have crushed on the superheroes that have saved them, but this is worse. So much worse.

And it leads her to right now, where she's terribly in her head about everything while she's dancing with Leo in this weird mixer for the R&D interns (and her, Peter and Harley, since they're not really interns but they've grown to be in that little category.)

It's important for her to remember that he lied to her. He lied to her. (Technically, almost everyone she knows lied to her, but that's a bone to pick with them.) They were never meant to be friends, and him actually being an intern was only a cover-up for the whole bodyguard-thing, and he was looking after her as a pre-req to being an Avenger. It hurt when she found that out, and yet, she still wants—no, needs— to be with him. It's fucked, really.

But they're slow-dancing now and he can't stop staring.

"I am sorry, Soph. I'm serious." She's infuriatingly bad at staying mad at him. It's too difficult with his stupid puppy-dog eyes—

"I know you are. I just don't want to be hurt by you, alright?" Sophia steps a bit further back from him. She feels like cracking a joke about 'Leaving room for Jesus!' but this isn't just something she can joke her way out of. This is Leo. "Not any more than you have already."

Looking down at her feet, for the first time in her life she feels clunky in her cherry-red heeled boots that normally feel like the closest thing to her actual feet. Moving step-by-step to the music, she tentatively waits for some kind of reaction from him.

Here's the thing. She knows that her room in the penthouse is 32 floors away, and that the elevator takes .2 seconds a floor, and while he could still run through the entire building in that time, it would give her a second to not feel like she's breathing autonomously. Like there isn't something wrong with her.

"Soph, that's not going to happen," he finally says. Pleads, even. "I know that I fucked up bad. I should've been honest with you, and I know I made everyone else keep the secret for no good reason, just, I need you to know that's not gonna happen. I don't know how to prove it to you, but I'm going to try. So so hard."

He cups her cheeks as the song in the background continues to play—It Isn't Perfect But It Might Be (her pick, go fuckin' figure!)—and she feels like the only person to ever exist. Ala Rihanna, for some reason, he's making her feel like she's the 'only girl in the world'. In reality, she's in a room with her (terribly) drunk coworkers/employees (which category do they fall under in something like this?) and the music is just a tad bit too loud, and Leo's looking at her like he wants to kiss—you know what? Maybe—just maybe—this feeling is anxiety! She sure is nauseous, with all of this eye contact that for anyone else, it would be thrilling. It's taking her out of this moment, just wide-eyed and blank stares, when he finally interrupts her spiralling.

"You look ready to leave, huh?" He makes this little dopey smile and she feels herself blushing like a little schoolgirl. Fuck her! "Plus, it might be better to talk about everything...away from other people."

"Okay."

"Okay," and without any warning, he lifts her bridal-style, taking her to the elevator. If she wasn't so focused on how strong she was, she probably would've heard the other guys in the room hooting-and-hollering as they turned away.

^^^ the edit btw!!! (for my non-tiktok mackinators)

[vin-taege]

CONGRATS ON REACHING 3K !!! So happy for you 💐💐💐 I've read all your AIB works and oooo-

Can I request some more head canons of awkward Chishiya flirting like in Tokens of Appreciation? It was the first one I read of yours and I loved it a lot 👀👀

Purely Transactional

Summary: More instances of Chishiya unknowingly being a dork.

Genre: fluff

let me preface this by saying that Chishiya is definitely like a cat bringing back little trinkets he found strewn about

he remembers any throwaway detail about you that comes up in conversations

did you off-handedly mention your favorite color? chishiya would tear apart the other hotel rooms to find you a sleepwear set of that color

would 100% disassemble things if it meant he'd get something useful for you

oh what's that? your bedside lamp's light bulb went out?

lo and behold, here comes chishiya with about five different light bulbs borrowed stolen from the militants

"I wasn't sure if you wanted warm light or cool light"

he's like a little scavenger

whenever he's outside—hanging around game venues before the game starts or waiting for the car after he wins—he's always on the look-out for things you may like

kuina definitely teases him about it

"Is giving them the Poppin' Cookin' kit part of the plan too?"

"This is purely transactional. I'm only doing it to gain their trust."

for the LONGEST time, this is how he'd reason out why keeps giving you things

he's giving you this hair tie so that they can rope you in for the plan—totally not because he heard you complain about your hair getting in your face last game

he's breaking a shop window to retrieve jewelry from a brand you liked so you'd be convince that he was your ally—totally not because you lamented how you'd never been able to wear it

he also doesn't understand pick-up lines

he thinks they're the lowest form of romantic expression

the closest he'll come to them is the most convoluted compliment that may fly over your head

"chishiya are you really just going to leave mid-conversation"

"you're giving me tachycardia"

in an attempt to dance around his feelings, he would attribute every irrational romantic thought he has for you to medical jargon

on a random day, he'd burst into kuina's room just to rant

"This is unhealthy. I think I am about to expire. They're giving me aphasia. My sinoatrial node constricts with them around. I need an epidural."

"I have no idea what you're saying, please leave."

honestly, he baffles you more than anything

he's very hot-and-cold

if he feels like he revealed too much—he never does—it's like his system resets and he freezes for a second

you'd be having pre-game banter and he thinks he's been too obvious with his feelings

"If it's a spades game, how'd I know you won't just push me into a meat grinder?"

"It would be a shame, I'd miss talking to you."

*NO I'VE REVEALED TOO MUCH AFFECTION*

"Awh, you like talking to—"

"You're throwing me off my game. This is serious business and I need to focus. Oh and here's this candy bar I found lying around, isn't that the junk that you like?"

he's holding tightly onto The Plan as an excuse

The Plan is why he keeps hanging out in your room

The Plan is why he lies beside you in bed to watch over you as you sleep because you've had bouts of insomnia

The Plan is why he rerouted the water supply to your room so you can have a bath soak salt for just one night, even if it meant the entirety of the 3rd and 4th floor had no water

The Plan is why he lets you "steal" his clothes so your scent sticks to them

The Godforsaken Plan is why he begrudgingly lets you put barrettes and hair clips on his hair, just because he'd "look so cute" in them

"Kuina, I'd have to delay The Plan. The timing isn't right."

"I thought all systems are go now?"

"It can't happen tonight. ___ and I are having a skin care night. Oh and also, we're swapping them for that Arisu kid instead."

[windvexer]

hello Chicken, I hope you are able to recover from your burn-out. I think I remember you talking about too much protection and it keeping the practitionner stuck in some cases. I had a period of time where I was very into protection enchantements and did a tone of them and simultaneously I found myself very isolated and slowed down. Now the obvious reason for that is my mental health, which is taken care of, but I wonder if I overdid it with the protection work because it feels like living in a bubble isolated from the rest of the world and struggling to get anything done. If it is the case, I would prefer to keep all my protections in place if possible and was wondering if instead working on spells that put in motion might help to balance how airtight the protections potentially are ? Like working in addition instead of removing. Do you have suggestions ?

Thank you, I'm feeling much better already today. Certainly not the worst I've over-done it!

We're in reference to this at least, I've spoken on this a few times in the past.

If I understand you correctly: your interest is balancing your current protections to adjust how airtight they are. You would prefer to not undo protections in their entirety.

If it were myself, my first angle of approach would be:

Looking for looking for broad language with lots of grey areas. Especially look for intents which readily protect you against fortunate events and progress.

Looking for single-stage mechanisms and replacing them with multi-stage mechanisms.

Check for spells that block any negativity at the expense of blocking all positivity

I think we can reasonably agree that every event in life is some mixture of desirable and undesirable. If I get a new high-paying job, that will come with undesirables like:

Stress, maybe even a sleepless night or two in the first few weeks

Encountering many new people who may not have my best wishes at heart

If I have protections like:

"Shield me from stress that harms my health; do not let me be disrupted by it"

"Do not allow anyone into my life who does not support my highest good"

Then those protections preclude me from basically getting any job or promotion, ever. Even if I were a freelancer it would stop many clients, I'm sure.

Reformat spells so benefits are able to outweigh the drawbacks

"If this situation brings me nothing but grief, stress, or loss; if there are no returns on my work or pains; or if the returns are frivolous, let this stress be blocked."

Reformat protections to be early-warning systems rather than walls

'Protection' doesn't mean wall-that-blocks-out. Walls are a subset of protection spells. Protection spells are any category of spells which function to help safeguard you, and this can include a variety of spells that include illusions, misdirections, sweetening, guiding, and early warnings.

"If anyone comes into my life who is against me, who is untrustworthy with my highest good, and who I should be wary of, do not block them out: rather show me who they are so I can clearly see them, and guide me away from trusting them, and protect me against those nefarious actions they would take against me."

Reformat spells to be more smart and responsive with multiple stages of escalation

If anyone comes into my life who can't be trusted with my wellbeing, show me who they are but do not take action against them.

But if that person tries to enter with my life with ruinous intent, stop them from having easy access to me.

But if that person tries to take an action against me, stop them and block them out until they stop trying to take that action.

Swap your most heavy-handed barriers to be push-to-activate, instead of always-on

Nothing wrong with a beefy ward. I love feeling like I'm wearing a magical suit of platemail +3. But it's unsuitable for daily living.

You needn't nerf every protection spell to let things through. You can retain your guillotine spells that sever connections to the world around you. Just have them turned off by default and install a trigger to activate them.

Closely examine your own blanket terms and either remove them or redefine them to something actually useful

Let's say you often use the term 'negative'/'negativity' in your wards. "Block out negativity."

Can you define what negativity means for you?

In my experience if you don't have a clear grasp of what you're asking for, a wide variety of results can occur. If you have a vague idea that 'negativity' is anything bad that could ever happen to you that you don't want to deal with, then that's a very poor choice for wards that also let you live a functioning life.

Try replacing any vague terms with more specific words like malfeasance, betrayal, evil, ruinous intent, corruption, wrongdoing, fraud, incompetence, or deceit.

Even words like 'harm' may be far too broad, unless you work out for yourself that something is only really 'harm' if it meets a threshold of damage.

Try to think of what the terms really mean for you. Words that ring true are better used than nebulous catch-alls.

[lunshimmer]

dear joel

summary: ellie writes joel a letter on the one year anniversary of his passing

❀ fandom: the last of us

warnings: major character death

❀ a/n: hi!! i cried multiple times writing this and then cried again upon remembering that we won't get any more tlou until 2027 :( i also formatted this one a lil weird bc the letter is right aligned on my ao3.

❀ word count: 1,419

❀ divider by @firefly-graphics ❀

Meaningless guitar strums fill the air as Ellie fiddles with the strings. It's what Joel used to do-- sit for hours and play different strings with different chords and try to make something of it. She figured it calmed him down, grounded him in a world so unpredictable. Ellie finds that it does the same for her.

Her hands follow a familiar rhythm, finding known chords, though she can't quite place it yet.

She presses e, then f, then e again. E again, then d, then c, then g.

Ellie remembers.

A pang of sadness, maybe regret hits her square in the chest. She sighs, then plays the full melody.

"If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself."

Ellie chooses to stop after a single verse. It's too much. She stares at her pencil and notebook on her desk.

Gail told her about this thing, back in Jackson when Dina had JJ. She had written letters to Eugene after he passed to help herself cope with his passing. Ellie thought it was bullshit right off the bat. She was never one for public sentiment-- sure, she'd had thoughts about Joel come up in her mind often. She never would've expressed it on paper.

As she looks at the paper again, she reconsiders. Maybe it'll help. Maybe she should try.

Ellie carefully sets the guitar back in its case and picks up the pencil.

Dear Joel,

I'm not sure why I'm doing this. It's fucking stupid.

Gail said it might help. With the feelings and grieving and all that dumb shit. I don't think I trust her on this. Therapists are a scam.

Ellie stops for a second. She takes a deep breath. If this was going to help, she needed to believe in it and take it seriously. She continues again.

It's been hard for me this month. It's the anniversary. One year since it happened.

A lot of shit went down, and I found Abby. I didn't kill her.

She sees the picture in her mind; Jesse with a bullet in his head lying on the floor, and Dina pregnant and beat within an inch of her life. Ellie didn't want to focus on the negatives. She redirects, and thinks about Dina.

Dina had a baby. I hope Jesse knows, wherever he is, that he has a son. I think he does.

Ellie hopes Joel is still out there somewhere too.

I don't know where you are right now. Well, I know where you physically are. I don't know if you're still out there somewhere. Spiritually.

I don't know where I stand on the whole religion bullshit. I know you grew up Catholic. Tommy told me. When I asked him if he still believed in it he said that he didn't know. I hope it's real. I really want it to be real. I want to believe that you're not dead. Not entirely.

I went to church with Maria. She said it helps her to believe that her husband and kid are in a better place now after they're dead. When I asked her "how the fuck does that make sense?" she rolled her eyes and made a noise with her mouth and said "it just does.". I'm choosing to believe it too.

Ellie decides that Joel is still out there. Alive, not physically but spiritually. A ghost, maybe? Weren't ghosts supposed to be scary? She thinks Joel would suck at being a scary ghost. Haunting halls and possessing people and all the ghosty bullshit wasn't quite his style. She hopes he isn't stuck haunting a house or something. She twiddles the pencil in her shaking hands and presses it to the paper once more.

I hope you're with Sarah. I hope you told her about me. I wish I knew her.

I hope you're with Tess. I didn't know her as long as you did but I miss her.

I hope Jesse's there too. I miss him. I know Dina does too.

I hope you met Riley. She's the best. She was the best.

She thinks about Sarah, the faceless curly-headed free-spirited girl she never got to meet. She thinks about Tess when she pulls her hair half up to get it out of her face. She thinks about Jesse every time JJ smiles.

Ellie doesn't think about Riley all that much anymore. Memories of Riley creep in occasionally whenever she sees a firefly (the bug) or when she re-reads Savage Starlight.

I hope you got your sheep ranch on the moon and all the guitars and coffee you could ever dream of. I wish I was there.

Ellie smiles thinking about the shitty coffee that Joel loved so much. She backtracks on that last thought, clarifying:

Not that I wish I was dead or anything. I wish I was with you. You always said that wherever you went, I did too. I wish it was the same for this.

It was always Joel and Ellie. Not just Ellie. Not just Joel. They were a pair. A package deal. She misses that feeling.

Ellie thinks about the last conversation she had with Joel, the night of the dance.

I regret the way I left things with you. I was upset and I shouldn't have handled things the way I did. I shouldn't have blown up at you for defending me when Seth said that bullshit the night of the dance. I'm filled with all this regret and sadness and grief. I don't sleep a lot most nights. Every time I close my eyes I see your face.

She finds it hard to imagine Joel any other way than lifeless on the floor, eyes still open, unfocused. Staring at nothing. When she draws him, she doesn't find the will to draw his eyes. She can't.

She's pulled out of her thoughts by Dina's voice. She's singing softly, and Ellie can only imagine it's to JJ. Joel would've loved JJ.

She sighs, again pulling herself away from what happened between her and Joel. Ellie tells herself that she needs to stop dwelling on it, because it's in the past. Unless she were to find a way to time travel (which would be sick, by the way), she can't do anything about it.

She tells herself she needs to grow from this. Move on-- not completely, but a little bit. She has things in her life that mean the world to her.

Ellie loves Dina. She loves JJ. She loves expressing herself through art and telling bad jokes that Dina hates (or secretly loves, but won't admit), and she loves each and every stinky sheep they've got in the barn.

No more sad shit. I need to write about something else. Here's a drawing of JJ. He's easy to draw.

She doodles the baby's round, chubby cheeks and cherub nose. She draws his tiny lips and eyes and eyebrows and tops it off by giving him some hair on his head. She's a little generous on the amount of hair she draws JJ with. Doing you a favor, kid, she thinks.

I started painting. Dina likes it. She hung some of my stuff up on the walls in our house. Makes it feel like an art gallery.

She taps her pencil against the wood of the desk, searching her mind for topics and then remembers--

We have sheep! Lots of 'em. Some of their names are very punny. You'd like them. Ewe-gene is my favorite. Don't tell Daisy or Snowy.

She takes a second and quietly laughs about the names to herself. She's pulled out of her thoughts again when she hears Dina's voice call El, time for dinner!, and she replies with just a sec, babe!, and she realizes something--

Ellie realizes that she's fortunate. Yeah, shitty things have happened. They have. Who in this fucked up world that they live in hasn't had something bad happen to them? You could probably count them on one hand. Lucky bastards.

She wasn't sure if she believed in God or not, but if she did, Ellie would consider herself blessed.

Dina's calling me down for dinner, so I'm gonna wrap this up. I think this helped me.

Long story short: I hope you're happy. I hope you have everything your heart desires, wherever you are. I hope you check in on me sometimes. I know you do.

I miss you. I'll miss you 'till the cows come home.

Joel loved that phrase.

I love you too.

Love, Ellie

[darth-mortem]

The 10th part of my demon!Ghost AU. After a long mission, 141 gets some well-deserved time off. Price plans to finish his report and get some sleep, Roach and Gaz prepare for a party at the base, and Soap reminds Ghost about his offer to spend some time together, and they head to the nearest town.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Fluff, kittens, confessions, kisses. 4069 words.

Soap quietly knocked on Ghost's door and slipped inside. He had just woken up, sleeping off a long mission, quickly washed up, and came straight here without even drinking his coffee first.

“Hey, Lt.!” He exclaimed, smiling happily.

“Hey, Johnny.” Replied Ghost, who was sitting in his favorite chair as usual.

He was wearing multicam pants and a hoodie; like everyone else, he had sent some of his gear to the dry cleaners and cleaned some of it himself.

“How are you?” Soap asked. “What were you doing while we were all asleep?”

Coming closer, MacTavish thoughtlessly glanced around the room and suddenly noticed a new object in the corner by the window: an ordinary cardboard box.

“What's that?” Soap asked another question, looking curiously at Ghost.

“I’m fine.” The lieutenant began to answer in order. “While you were sleeping, I cleaned my weapons and equipment. And I have kittens in there.”

You can keep reading here or on the Ao3. On Ao3 you can see a beautiful art for this part.

“What?” Soap stared in surprise. “Did I hear you say kittens?”

“Yes.” Ghost confirmed, realizing that this would not be enough for the curious sergeant, and continued. "One of the cats was pregnant before we left on the mission. I left this box for her. She's out for a walk now, so the kittens are in there alone.”

“Wait, so you left the window open?” MacTavish asked anxiously. ”What if someone got in?”

“That would be the last thing they'd ever do.” The lieutenant said this with his usual emotionless tone, but the sergeant somehow believed him right away.

Ghost got up from his chair, walked over to Soap, took him by the hand, and led him to the box. Inside was a rolled-up terry towel, and on top of it were tiny black and striped kittens sleeping soundly. They were lying together, so Soap, crouching down, couldn't count them all at once. There seemed to be five, but he wasn't sure.

“They're so cute.” Soap whispered for some reason. “The local guys said all the cats were neutered.”

“Probably not all of them.” Ghost shrugged. “Let's go, let them sleep. You can pet them later when they wake up.”

They walked away, and the lieutenant sat down in his chair. Soap remained standing, unable to wipe the completely silly smile off his face. Thinking about how a huge demon, a devourer of souls, cared for tiny kittens, he felt a very pleasant, warm feeling in his chest. Giving in to a sudden impulse, Soap walked over, crouched down on the armrest of the chair, and then hugged Ghost tightly.

“You're so good.” He whispered, pressing his cheek against the hard skull plate on the demon's mask.

Suddenly, Ghost felt something long forgotten, something left over from his human life that he thought he could no longer feel. It was a pain that pierced his chest somewhere where his black heart did not beat.

“I can't be good, Johnny.” Ghost shook his head slowly. “I'm a demon, remember?”

“I don't care!” Soap declared. “I actually believe that a human... um... well, or a non-human who is kind to cats can't be a bad person. And you're also kind to me.”

If Ghost had been breathing, he would have sighed heavily. The pain receded, and it all happened so quickly that now the lieutenant wasn't even sure if he had imagined it. Meanwhile, Soap remembered why he had come here, jumped off the armrest, and found himself facing Ghost.

“So, Lt., shall we go to town before they dump some more shit on us?” He asked, smiling cheerfully.

“Yes.” The demon replied simply, and Johnny, nudging him in the shoulder with his fist, almost ran out of the room.

Ghost had a rather vague idea of how the bureaucratic machinery of the army worked, but he assumed that in order to leave the base, they would need at least permission from the commander. Their commander was Price, so Johnny had probably gone to look for him, which meant the lieutenant should wait. He could ask the captain for advice once his and the sergeant's discharge had been officially confirmed.

Soap returned about an hour later, but this time he didn't stay long, just happily announced that their discharge had been approved and that they would be leaving for the town by helo at nineteen zero-zero, then disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. There was still plenty of time, especially for someone who didn't need to pack, so Ghost sat for a while, checked on the kittens, which had just finished eating and were now sleeping again, now under their mother's watchful eye, and then slowly went in search of the captain. He wasn't in residential block 141, so the lieutenant went outside and, after thinking for a few seconds, headed for the administrative building.

It wasn't far, but Ghost still managed to hear many snippets of people's conversations. The soldiers were discussing their duty, their families, their relationships, and even each other. Through the hubbub of voices, the lieutenant heard a couple of familiar ones and, looking in the direction of the sound, saw Sergeants Garrick and Sanderson in the company of several locals. They were speaking quietly, but that was no obstacle to the demon's unnaturally keen hearing, and he heard that the subject of discussion was a party. Apparently, they were planning to hold it secretly right there, on the base, in honor of one of the participants' promotion. Fortunately for them, Ghost didn't care about such things, and it didn't even occur to him to report the upcoming violation to Captain Price or anyone else, as any other lieutenant in his place would have done.

Passing the entrance to the dining room, Ghost walked around the building and climbed the external stairs that led directly to the second floor. A guard stood at the entrance and told him which office Captain Price was in. The lieutenant wanted to just go where he was told, but then he remembered Soap and muttered a quick ‘thank you’ before continuing on his way. Finding the right door, he knocked and heard permission to enter and a quiet, irritated grumble. However, upon seeing Ghost, the captain's anger melted away, and he gestured for him to sit down.

“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” Price asked, taking a cigar from his shirt pocket.

“Johnny asked me to go in town with him.” Ghost replied, or rather stated.

“Yes, your papers are ready.” The captain nodded.

“I know.” Ghost shook his head. “That's not the point.”

“Then what is?” Price asked patiently.

“Why me? I mean, why not all of us?” Asked Ghost, who hadn't prepared for this conversation today and was struggling to find the right words.

“Well, first of all, I still have a lot of work to do, and Gaz and Roach preferred to go to a secret party at the base.” Price smiled, narrowing his eyes slyly. “And secondly... Don't you understand?”

If Ghost understood anything, it was that Johnny had chosen to spend time with him rather than with his friends, and that was nice. In fact, he was well aware that the sergeant liked him, but he just couldn't believe it.

“I don't understand why.” He finally managed to say, although to the captain his words sounded as emotionless as ever. “And I don't know what to do when we get to town.”

“Well, I can't answer the first question, but the second...” Price took a drag on his cigar and slowly exhaled the smoke. “Just be yourself. You don't need to impress him; he already likes you.”

Ghost chuckled thoughtfully, and the captain thought once again that he didn't understand at what point his life had turned into this. Of course, he was pleased that his men and even the demon trusted him enough to talk to him about personal matters. But he was no expert in relationships, either with his parents, as Roach and Soap would occasionally talk with him, or with romantic partners, about whom Gaz often complained, and now even Ghost was turning to him for advice. And Price had a loser father, a tyrant of a grandfather who hated them both, and two divorces behind him. What advice could he give with that kind of experience?

“Listen, Lieutenant.” Finally, the captain spoke again. “Keep an eye on the lad; make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. He sometimes loses control when he drinks too much, and then he gets into fights, and I have to write a bunch of explanatory notes. And don't forget to take your bag with you. You'll be spending the night there, so it would be strange if you left without your things.”

“Roger that.” Ghost replied and stood up. “Thank you, Captain Price.”

He left, and Price stared at the door that closed behind him for a while, trying to figure out what the lieutenant had thanked him for, since he hadn't said anything meaningful. Unable to come up with an answer, he sighed, stubbed out his cigar, and went back to his hated paperwork.

Ghost thought that many soldiers would be flying into the town, but he was wrong. There were only two people in the helicopter with him and Soap: a supply officer who needed to go into the town on business and a corporal who had started a family here and was therefore entitled to additional leave. In general, soldiers were only allowed into the town on weekends and holidays, and General Strickland made an exception for the members of 141 only because they had just returned from a long mission.

While the lieutenant couldn't care less how many other soldiers from the base would be in town at the same time as him, Soap, on the contrary, was glad to have no company. Ghost probably didn't understand that this was a small town and that there weren't many pubs here. So if more soldiers had been on discharge here, they would have been everywhere, and it would have been impossible to sit quietly together. The sociable Soap had already won over most of the guys at the base, so they would have been constantly pestering him to join them or have a drink. It wasn't that he didn't like that, but right now he wanted something else, and he hoped Ghost did too.

During the short flight, MacTavish managed to chat with the supply officer and found out that he was also staying in town for the night, and they would be returning on the same helicopter, which would arrive tomorrow evening. So, in order not to take one of the SUVs on duty at the airfield for himself or Ghost, Soap agreed with the officer that he would give him and the lieutenant a ride there and back, and in return, they would help load the supplies the officer had flown in.

Ghost didn't take part in the conversation, either in the helicopter or in the SUV. He took the front passenger seat, and Soap settled in the back, which didn't prevent him from continuing to chat with the supply officer who was driving the SUV. Among everything that was said, the lieutenant noted that Johnny had already booked a hotel, chosen a pub, and mapped out several walking routes for tomorrow. Before doing all this, he had gathered as much information about the town as possible from the soldiers at the base and read about it on the Internet. For such a small town, it was almost the same as visiting it in person. Soap told all this to the supply officer, and Ghost realized that he liked how seriously the sergeant took the tasks before him, both combat and non-combat. If he did this more often and acted less crazy, he would make an excellent officer.

“Okay, we're here.” The supply officer said, braking in front of a small, cozy hotel.

“We are very grateful to you, sir!” Soap opened the door and jumped out of the car.

“Yes.” For the first time, Ghost broke his silence. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” The officer nodded. “Have a good rest, but don't forget that you'll be carrying boxes tomorrow.”

“No problem!” Soap assured him.

Waiting for the lieutenant and sergeant to take their bags out of the trunk, the officer drove away.

 MacTavish glanced at Ghost, wanting to catch his eye, but he had already done that thing that made no one pay attention to his mask, so Soap just smiled, nudged the lieutenant in the shoulder with his fist, and headed for the hotel door.

After confirming the reservation, checking in (which was done the old-fashioned way, in a large, thick logbook), and making a few questionable comments about Ghost's height, the clerk finally handed over the keys and explained how to find the right room. Following the instructions, the sergeant and lieutenant went up to the second floor, turned right, and soon saw a door with a sign bearing the number of their room. Ghost went in first and, quickly making sure everything was clear, turned on the lights.

The room was quite spacious, clean, and cozy, with two single beds, a TV, a bathroom, and everything that unpretentious soldiers might need. Ghost thought he liked it, except that the ceiling was a little low for him: he had to duck his head to avoid bumping it.

“Oh, damn, Lt., I'm so sorry!” Soap said, noticing the demon's slight discomfort. “The rooms on the second floor are more comfortable, but the ceilings are higher on the first floor. Do you want me to ask them to move us?”

“Negative.” Ghost replied, walking over to a worn, soft armchair in the corner of the room and sitting down in it. “You've thought of everything, Johnny. You're a good man.”

Soap beamed with pride at the lieutenant's praise and stuck his nose in the air, then found a comb in his bag and went to the bathroom to tidy up his tousled mohawk. He never dared to tell Ghost that he had asked him out on a date, not just for a drink and to hang out together, but that was no reason to look bad. Soap had originally planned to wear something brighter and nicer but changed his mind when he realized that the contrast between his clothes and Ghost's would attract too much attention. The lieutenant was wearing his jeans, a black hoodie, and his military boots, the same outfit he had worn when they went to the pub with the rest of the unit. Of course, he thinks it's just a friendly get-together. However, even if he knew it was a date, he would have dressed the same way because he simply had no other options, and realizing this suddenly made Soap feel sad. He would gladly take Ghost shopping and buy him lots of different clothes, but unfortunately, no store would have anything that would fit a huge demon.

Before leaving the bathroom, the sergeant pushed the sad thoughts away, and a smile reappeared on his lips. He said he was ready, Ghost stood up, and they set off toward their destination for the day.

It was the middle of the work week, so there weren't many people in the pub. Soap asked Ghost to pick a table, then went to the bar to order beer for himself and tea for the lieutenant. No one paid much attention to them; the townspeople were probably used to the appearance of soldiers and treated them with indifference. At least, as long as the soldiers didn't bother them.

After getting their drinks, Soap looked around for Ghost and headed over to him. The lieutenant was sitting with his back to the wall, and MacTavish sat down to his right so he could see the whole room and the entrance to the pub.

“Well, cheers, Lt.!” He said with a smile, raising his mug and taking a big gulp of cold beer.

Ghost watched Johnny almost moan with pleasure. Beer foam remained on his upper lip, and it looked funny, but the lieutenant didn't have time to say anything about it. Soap took a couple more sips and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Listen, Lt.” Quickly glancing around, Soap leaned closer to Ghost and lowered his voice. “Have you ever tried anything to eat or drink?”

“Yes.” The lieutenant replied.

“And how was it?”

“Not great.” Ghost shrugged. “It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either.”

“Hmm...” Johnny took another sip and looked around the pub thoughtfully. “Would you like to try one more time? I think I have an idea.”

“What is it?” The lieutenant tilted his head to one side, intrigued. “You'll find out when you agree!” Soap declared triumphantly and laughed cheerfully.

Ghost shook his head and made a sound very similar to a short laugh. He would never have said it out loud, but he was actually ready to agree to anything Johnny suggested.

“We'll see.” The lieutenant finally replied, deciding to take the initiative in the conversation before the sergeant came up with some other nonsense. “I heard there's a party at the base tonight.”

“Shit, I hope you didn't tell anyone about that, Lt.” Soap shook his head and sighed dramatically.

During his time with the demon, MacTavish had come to understand that when he used phrases like ‘I heard’, he didn't mean what humans did. When humans said ‘I heard’, they meant ‘I heard from someone’, but when Ghost said it, he meant that he had literally heard something with his supernatural hearing.

“No one.” The lieutenant reassured him, not bothering to tell him that Price already knew, and then looked intently at Soap. “I thought you loved parties, Johnny.”

“Yeah, but I love you more, Lt.” The sergeant replied cheerfully, finished his beer in one gulp, and stood up.

“I'll go order another one.”

He walked over to the bar, leaving Ghost completely stunned by what he had heard. What was that? A joke? Or did Johnny really love him, not just like him? And if so, what should he do about it?

Soap turned back and started talking about something else, as if nothing had happened. Ghost didn't answer right away, but that didn't surprise the sergeant; he was used to the lieutenant not responding sometimes; it didn't mean he hadn't heard.

“Did you name your kittens, Lt.?” Soap asked when he realized Ghost had been silent for too long.

“Negative.” The lieutenant replied. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” MacTavish protested. “We have to be able to tell them apart when we talk about them. All the cats on base have names, in case you didn't know, so the kittens should too!”

Demon sincerely didn't understand why this was necessary, since animals don't speak human language, don't understand it, and identify each other by other characteristics, just like he does. But Soap insisted so vehemently that he decided not to argue.

“All right, Johnny.” He said. “When we get back, you can give them names.”

Soap was delighted, drank his beer, and began to tell him about all the animals he had ever had.

They stayed in the pub almost until closing time. True to his promise to Captain Price, Ghost kept an eye on the sergeant, who was clearly drunk, and at some point said that it was time to go back to the hotel instead of ordering more drinks. Soap didn't mind, and after paying the bartender, they stepped out into the night. By this time, the small town was deserted, so they walked slowly, enjoying the autumn chill and even the light mist that settled on the sergeant's face, pleasantly cooling his cheeks, which were hot from the heat and alcohol. Ghost put his arm around Johnny’s shoulders to help him keep his balance, and he looked at him gratefully.

“You know, Lt., it sounds funny, but since I grew up, no one has cared about me like you do.” Soap said thoughtfully, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. “No friends, not even the ones I dated.”

Ghost thought it was more sad than funny, but he didn't say it out loud. Instead, he said something else:

“It's all thanks to you, Johnny. You're teaching me how to be a human.”

“No, I'm not teaching you, just reminding you.” Soap smiled in response.

“Maybe I wasn't the kind of person who was capable of caring about someone else.” Ghost shook his head.

“I'm sure you're wrong.” Johnny replied uncompromisingly. “If you didn't know how to do it then, you wouldn't have learned it now, you know what I mean?”

The lieutenant thought that made sense and nodded.

When they returned to the hotel, Soap took a T-shirt and pajama pants he had brought with him out of his bag and went to take a shower. Ghost made up one of the beds for him and settled into a chair in the corner. Soon Johnny came out, looked at him, and asked:

“Are you going to sleep with me?”

Ghost nodded, and Soap settled into bed first, wrapping himself in the blanket. The lieutenant stood up and, looking him straight in the eye, slowly pulled off first one glove and then the other. Then he threw the blanket over the half of the bed left for him and lay down, turning off the light and hugging Johnny from behind as usual. Almost immediately, Ghost felt Soap take his hand in his own and he moved his thumb, stroking MacTavish’s palm. Johnny repeated his gesture and remained silent for a couple of minutes, gently running his fingers over the lieutenant's hand, then raised it to his face and touched it with his lips.

“Hey, Lt.” He said softly. “Would you be very surprised if I told you that I like you more than a friend?”

“Negative.” Ghost replied. “Because I could say the same thing.”

Soap smiled happily in the darkness of the room and then fidgeted, turning to face the lieutenant. Stroking the skull plate on his mask with his fingers, he said in a slightly hoarse voice:

“I want to kiss you.”

“Negative.” Ghost replied after a pause. “I don't want you to see my face.”

The room was so dark that a person couldn't see anything even with his eyes open, but Soap didn't waste time explaining that to the demon.

“I won't look at your face, I promise.” He said, closing his eyes. “You trust me, don't you?”

Ghost trusted him. Soap felt movement, heard the rustle of fabric, and held his breath. A second later, Ghost's lips touched his own. They felt very dry and somehow lifeless, but warm and insistent. From gentle and chaste, it quickly turned passionate and intense; the demon wrapped his fingers around Soap's jaw and pressed lightly. He willingly parted his lips, and the demon's tongue slipped into his mouth. It was wet, hot, and seemed denser than a human tongue, and when Ghost wrapped his tongue around Johnny's, the sergeant groaned, realizing how long it was.

The demon pressed Soap against him and squeezed his hair with his fingers, forcing him to keep his head thrown back. He could feel Johnny trembling in his arms; he could hear his heart beating fast and his breathing becoming ragged. Then he felt human fingers touch his face and growled hoarsely into the kiss, but Soap wasn't scared. He greedily stroked the dry, rough skin, tracing the scars that covered it with his fingers.

The kiss was interrupted when Soap began to suffocate. He buried his face in Ghost's chest while he put on his mask, then felt his fingers touch his cheek and raised his head slightly.

“That was incredible.” Johnny murmured contentedly.

“Yes.” Ghost confirmed with his usual emotionlessness, thought for a moment, and asked. “So, was that a date?”

“Almost.” Soap replied cheerfully. “But next time will be a real date, I promise you.”

“I'll be waiting for it.” The demon said, and then covered his eyes with his palm. “Sleep, Johnny. You need to rest.”

Sleep suddenly fell upon Soap with such force that he couldn't even wish Ghost good night. His last thought before finally drifting off into the land of dreams was whether he was just that tired or if the demon had used his supernatural abilities on him.

[holynachocrown]

Honestly half (all) of the Fandom I'm in I know nothing about the plot liek zero nilch

Just found out bruce had multiple father figures and all of them screwed him over

And I need him to have like silly comments that are borderline (completely) concerning liek for everything, and him being hit by a curse to say what's on his mind, and most of the comments is him remembering his trauma and going like ahhh good times, and going about his day, I'm just imagining his kids being like, is he..is he joking?? That can't possibly be real

Because honestly me myself, I got traumatized a lot still am being traumatized I cope by being silly inside or internally right, I need him to be the same

Or OR

He gets de aged to the age of his worst traumas and everyone is like oh that explains your personality, you a traumatized little man.

Or something idk I just want the bat kids to see their father in a new light, or angsty bruce fic where the kids hate him leave him alone at first then they found out about him and how he actually struggles to express himself because he got traumatized every single time he expressed himself to the point he genuinely believes if he shows a hint of emotion something bad will happen, and you know they talk it over and fluff and they slowly become a better family together, and they realize that even though bruce looks like an elder or acts like it infront of then he is still a little kid at heart because he didn't get to grow out of it,

Or something idk

[joooooniecore]

After all this time: Chapter 4

Your friends have been successful enough to drag you out of your workaholic routine for a vacation out of country.

The only problem? Your long term crush who actually used to be your best friend is also going there. And he is bringing his girlfriend, your ex-female best friend.

What could go wrong? Right?

✧˖* pairing: ex-bestfriend!mingyu x f!reader

✧˖* chapter count: master-list

✧˖* genre: ex-best friend mingyu, friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow-burn, smut.

✧˖* playlist: spotify playlist

✧˖* full work warnings: resurfaced old feelings, toxic relationship(not between the main characters), angst, confusions, resentments, past misunderstandings, a very slow burn

✧˖* explicit warnings: penetration, explicit language, cursing, bodily fluids, praising, body worship.

✧˖* author's note: wohoo! fourth chapter and the day one tour was a partial slay? can you feel the toxicity of the relationship mingyu is in? i hope he realizes it soon. toxic relationships are hard to get over from because you get so dependent on the person who is hurting you and even if people think that it can't be that hard to breakup, it is. toxicity is like addiction and its hard to leave that behind. anywaysssss, i hope you enjoy this chapter. hoping to make more progress soon!

--- love, artemis.

✧˖* tag-list: @ana-marais98 @hellosighsophy-blog @ppaia @mingyuisthevictimofsvt @tokitosun @iarayara @cheolliesvt @seungcheolsblackcard @alohacrispyrn @lilylikesthat

COMMENT TO BE IN THE TAG-LIST!<3

<< chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 >>

The morning sun glistened through the window curtains and created streaks of heavenly glow beside your bed. The light woke you up as you took your phone to check the time. It was almost 11 o’clock. You nuzzled a bit into your warm blanket, mentally preparing yourself to wake up. Finally, after laying there awake for a minute or two you decided to freshen up and head to the kitchen to eat something.

The fresh morning air welcomed you as you softly padded towards the open area in the front porch. You had already asked Chan last night about the front door’s lock and he was kind enough to show you where the keys were kept. You stood there, taking the chilly morning air in, along with warm sunlight and then decided to make some coffee.

The kitchen was very perfectly organized and you easily found all the ingredients. As you stirred your cup, you heard some shuffling behind you. You turned back to find Mingyu entering the sitting area. His hair dishevelled from sleeping and his cheeks were all puffy. You giggled a bit at how cute he looked and decided to admire him a bit. It was clear that he has not noticed you yet as he slowly walked towards the front porch to do the exact same thing you did a few moments ago. You sat on the small coffee table as you enjoyed your coffee and checked your messages and mails. Your cousin brother was planning to start a business and you were handling the technical part of it hence you needed to check your mails at least once a day for updates.

“Oh, you are awake?”, came a startled voice.

You looked up to see Mingyu standing there.

“Yes. Good morning.”, you answered with a soft smile.

Mingyu smiled back as he hurried to the kitchen to make some coffee for himself too.

He settled beside you, checking his phone and drinking the coffee. After what felt like hours, Mingyu spoke first.

“I heard you are doing a corporate job.”

You nodded your head subconsciously and said, “Yeah. It’s closer to my home.”

“You left photography?”, came Mingyu’s second question.

“Is this some kind of interrogation? Have I done a felony?”, you joked trying to ease the situation.

Mingyu playfully glared at you and then laughed, “No. I just saw you hold your camera very awkwardly yesterday when Jihyun asked you to click her pictures on the front porch.”

You blushed, clearly embarrassed. You remember how you fumbled a bit with the camera since you haven’t clicked a single picture over the last three years.

“Whatever. You are no professional yourself.”, you sassed.

Mingyu rolled his eyes and took out a card, pushing it towards you. You took it curiously. Your eyes went wide as you shifted your gaze to Mingyu and then back to the card.

“You are a professional photographer?”, you asked, clearly shocked.

“Yeah. That’s my side business. I have my own business too.”, Mingyu announced proudly.

You congratulated him heartily, and again focused on the coffee in front of you. You both fell in a comfortable silence as you scrolled through your phone and Mingyu did the same. Another soft click made you both turn your head towards the doorway and you saw Seungcheol slowly entering the kitchen. He whispered a soft good morning and patted your head before he went to make coffee for himself.

“Do you like him?”, Mingyu lowly whispered just when Seungcheol was out of the hearing zone.

“Who? Cheol?”, you looked at him with pure shock.

“Yeah. You both seem very cozy.”, Mingyu said with a strange expression on his face.

“Oh my god no! I-I don’t like him.”, you chuckled awkwardly.

“Oh. I thought- never mind.”, was all Mingyu said before you both heard the rest of your friends filling in one by one, leaving you with no chance to ask him about what he was going to say.

After everyone started filling in, Mingyu abruptly got up and volunteered to make pancakes for everyone. You decided to wash all the coffee mugs and help out in the kitchen. You love pancakes and you love it the most when it was made from scratch. Mingyu listed out the ingredients as you and Jeonghan collected everything and brought it to Mingyu.

A few moments later you saw Maya come down and sit. She rolled her eyes after looking between you and Mingyu and started talking with Chan. She was asking about the bars and malls in the nearby area and saying how she wanted to go to shopping.

“Girlie is fuming.”, whispered Jihyun as she stifled a laugh.

“Huh?”, you answered, clearly startled by her sudden presence. Turning your head, you saw Maya acting all nonchalant about you helping Mingyu but also glaring at him once or twice. It felt like a pit in the depth of your stomach. You could see how she hated you and that suddenly made you feel sick. You always thought of her as your best friend and even after she did all this, you didn’t actually blame her and just kept blaming yourself for being a fool.

Seeing her distinctly hate your presence made you want to run away. You were brought out of your thoughts when Mingyu asked you to bring in some eggs. You hurriedly went out of kitchen to the storage area. In the meantime, you also took a breather as it was too much for you. You hated tense situations and it acted like a flight response for you whenever you found yourself in a state of panic.

You decided to tune everyone out as you helped Mingyu in making pancakes.

“You seem a bit tense.”, came Mingyu’s deep voice from behind you as he he squeezed your shoulder to bring you out of your thoughts

“I-I am fine. Just tired I guess.”, you stammered a little from the sudden contact as you looked anywhere but him.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to share it with me. Just know that I am still your friend.”, Mingyu assured, his eyes holding a sad emotion.

You felt guilty for ignoring him for this long over such a minor issue. Yes, you still loved him. Yes, you hated how he never chose you. Yes, you hated how he is dating your ex best friend. But after all he was Mingyu. The guy who helped you break out of your shell in college. The guy who was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. He was your first friend in college and you are glad you can still talk with him. That’s all the assurance you needed. You beamed at him and silently promised yourself to not let a single emotion guide you throughout this trip.

After breakfast, everyone went to their respective rooms to get ready for the day. You all were going to visit the old town square which is also home to the Prague Astronomical Clock. You have always had a keen interest for architecture and seeing something that you have always seen in pictures made you extremely excited. You got inside your room and quickly whipped out your camera to make sure you have enough charged batteries. You kept your phone on the table for charging and decided to get dressed. Rummaging through your suitcase you decided upon a pair of jeans and a soft green sweater. You topped it up with your puffer jacket, a woollen cap and some gloves. You decided to go with your boots as you were sure it snowed last night.

After getting dressed you decided to just apply some moisturizer and lip balm. It was extremely cold outside so you were going to cover your face anyways. Keeping the makeup aside to wear at night. You picked up your small travel bag which held essentials like earphones, your phone, wallet and your identity proofs. As soon as you got out of your room, you saw Jeonghan approaching you.

“I am done. You should get dressed now.”, you said to him.

Jeonghan nodded as he got inside and closed the door. You sat on the living room sofa, reading the book that you picked up a few days ago as you waited for everyone to get dressed. You had showered in the morning and that’s why you were the first one to get ready. After almost half an hour, you heard a door open and close somewhere. You turned over your shoulder to see Jihyun approaching where you were sitting. She sat beside you with a disgruntled sigh.

“What’s wrong Jihyun-ah?”, you asked.

“You don’t get to ask me that.”, she replied in a grumpy tone.

You were shocked and nagged her again about what was bothering her until she spoke up.

“I am on the same floor as Mingyu and Maya.”, she confessed.

Your eyes went wide and your cheeks flushed. Your mind went to the things she heard and you turned away from her and focused on the book, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“It’s not what you think. They both quarrel a lot and that’s the cause of my headache.”, explained Jihyun.

You stared at her again and urged her to continue.

“You see my room is just beside theirs. Seungkwan and Chan live on the opposite side of the same corridor so they can’t hear anything. They quarrel almost every night.”, said Jihyun.

She looked around a bit to see if anyone was coming down and continued, “It’s mostly her asking him to buy something expensive and that’s what causes argument. She gets mad and blackmails him by saying she would leave him and he agrees to buy her anything.”

Your eyes went wide. You have never imagined their relationship to be like that. As far as you know Mingyu, he was always so strong willed and did exactly what he wanted to do. You still remember the time he accidently fixed a date on your birthday and when he realized what he had done, he didn’t even hesitate before cancelling it and postponing it. Seeing Mingyu this helpless made you feel guilty about it. You had no idea why he was so loyal and devoted to Maya.

Soon everyone started filling in the living room. Seungkwan explained everyone the route to the town square. It was less than 2 kilometers but the cold and snow made you all rethink decisions. Finally, Chan came to rescue and said that there are many small cars that can take anyone to the place at a very cheap price.

After hiring two cars, everyone settled in and the journey of day one began.

It took you guys just a bit over half an hour to reach the place. The car dropped you just in front of the Old Town Square and everyone decided to first visit the main attraction. You took out your phone and opened the file that Seungkwan has forwarded you which explained all the historical places in detail. Seungkwan wasn’t a fan of hiring guides so he decided to research himself.

The file loaded and the first thing you saw was ‘The Prague Astronomical Clock’, written in italics and bolded.

The Prague Astronomical Clock

The Prague Astronomical Clock, also known as the Orloj. Located in the heart of Prague's Old Town Square, this medieval masterpiece is a symphony of art, astronomy, and engineering.

As you stand before the clock, you're met with a kaleidoscope of colours and intricate details. The clock's face is a beautiful example of Gothic architecture, with a complex system of gears, dials, and sculptures.

Every hour, on the hour, the clock comes alive. A procession of 12 apostles, intricately carved from wood, emerge from the clock's doors, accompanied by the tolling of bells and the chiming of a tiny organ. It's as if the clock is sharing a secret with the world.

Above the clock face, a parade of saints and prophets, crafted by the skilled hands of medieval artisans, gaze out upon the square. Their faces, worn by time, seem to hold a deep wisdom, as if they've witnessed centuries of human history unfold.

At night, the clock is bathed in a warm, golden light, as if the stars themselves have descended upon the square. The clock's mechanisms, though centuries old, continue to tick away with precision, a testament to the ingenuity of its creators.

As you gaze upon the Prague Astronomical Clock, you can't help but feel a sense of connection to the past, to the artisans who crafted this masterpiece, and to the countless generations who've marvelled at its beauty. It's a reminder that, even in the midst of a bustling city, beauty, art, and tradition can still be found.

After reading about the clock, you decided to stand directly in front of the structure. Your eyes scanned the gigantic hands of the clock. You used your camera to zoom in and see the intricate details. It was a beautiful clock. It almost looked magical and in the winter day light, the golden details sparkled like they had magic stored in them.

You clicked a few pictures of the clock itself, trying to zoom in to capture the intricate details. You were in awe at how the clock chimed with perfect precision even though it was centuries old. Your eyes soon shifted from the clock to the surroundings. You soaked it all in as you felt like you have travelled back to medieval times.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jeonghan sitting beside Seungcheol on a small bench that overlooked the clock. They were talking and giggling about something that you couldn’t decipher. Jeonghan had a shy look on his face and that made you stifle a laugh. You were damn sure that Seungcheol was flirting endlessly with him. You have always known Jeonghan as the one who can easily lure men. He has that flirty, charismatic nature that makes men fall on their knees. On the contrary, right now he was a blushing mess which means Seungcheol was able to overpower and you are going to tease him for this forever.

You turned your attention back to your surroundings. Every direction you looked at, there were beautiful examples of architectural intelligence. You stared in awe, eyes sparkling with excitement as you took it all in. After noticing how everyone has wandered off to do their own kind of exploring, you decided to use your camera and get some good shots. You always loved photography and you officially learned all the titbits of it when you were in college. Actually, that was where you first noticed Kim Mingyu.

You both bonded over the same hobby and decided to help each other during the class and also in field activities. Most of the times you both were each other’s subject of photos because that saved time and energy. You hated conversing with people and requesting them to do things for you so when Mingyu volunteered to be your model for various photography projects, you agreed. After you both stopped talking, you left photography. Your camera long forgotten sat in your storage room for a huge amount of time. Life moved on and you soon got submerged in the corporate world with no time to spare for your hobbies.

It was Jihyun who begged you to bring out your camera for this trip. You were a bit reluctant but her constant nagging made you finally agree to it. You were actually glad that she forced you to bring your camera but she won’t know about that. It’s too bad for her ego.

After clicking a few snaps of the surrounding places, you decided to get some snaps of the old shops and houses that bordered the gravelled streets on both sides. The old shops gave it an almost eighteenth century look which amazed you. The shutter went on quite a few times as you smiled to yourself while checking the results.

“Show me the pictures you clicked babe!”, came a shrilling voice from behind you which ruined your peace.

You slowly turned back to see Maya nagging Mingyu to show the pictures he has clicked. You noticed he has also brought his camera, a much better model than yours. They were standing only a few feet away from you so you could clearly see the stickers that adorned his professional camera. Your eyes zeroed on them as you saw Jihyun approaching you with a smile.

“What’s going on there?”, you asked as soon as she stood beside you.

“Ugh it’s nothing. Mingyu was snapping pictures and she wanted to see them but Mingyu isn’t willing because he doesn’t show the raw pictures to anyone.”, explained Jihyun.

It took you back to your photography assignment days. Mingyu would never show the raw pictures to anyone. He always believed that he should be the first to see them on the laptop screen and then after deleting the unwanted ones, he would edit them to show everyone. He hated showing his camera or even handing his camera to anyone.

You hated how you clearly remembered his habits as you looked at him. Mingyu pulled the camera out of Maya’s hands and with one swift motion removed the batteries leaving her with no way to turn on the device. You chuckled a bit. Secretly happy that Mingyu didn’t let go of this petty habit of his.

You knew he went to the market area because he looked at Seungkwan and said so. You were close enough to hear it too. Maya on the other hand looked deranged as she glared a bit at Mingyu and walked off to explore the shops that lined the path.

After what felt like an hour or more, you all were ready to leave and go back to the bungalow. Everyone gathered in front of the clock and that’s when you realized that Mingyu hasn’t returned yet. Seungkwan asked Maya to call him which she did and soon found out that his phone was switched off. A panic ran down everyone’s face.

“I am sure he is fine. He is a big guy.”, explained Maya as she busied herself with her phone.

That didn’t help the panic that you felt. You knew this place was huge with several nooks and corners and it was impossible to find one’s way back if they got lost. Every street and every lane looked the same from what you have seen.

Seungcheol came out with a plan. He asked everyone to share their location with the others and then decided to go separate ways to find Mingyu.

“I don’t think so I can walk that much.”, Maya said in a fake cute voice.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at that and said in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Then why don’t you sit on that bench while we find him.”

She quickly agreed to that and settled herself on the bench. Everyone else went according to plan as you separated ways and searched for Mingyu. You had seen the lane he used when he got mad at Maya and you followed the same path hoping for your instincts to take you where he was.

Passing through a narrow alley, you were met with a large market place. There were many shops lined around the palace area. The huge stairs of the palace came into view as you walked more towards it. You searched almost every shop that caught your eye. After searching for more than fifteen minutes, you decided to sit a bit before continuing.

As your eyes seemed to not stop scanning the place, the top of the palace stairs attracted you. It gave a beautiful overview of the entire area. You had watched many videos where people went to the top and shot great pictures. You at last decided to do the same, hoping to get some good pictures and also overviewing the city might help you find Mingyu.

As you hurried up the stairs, you looked at how the city’s landscape was getting clearer. The trees were now not in view and what was left was a beautiful example of architecture. The markets and monuments looked so tiny as if they were just toys. As you reached the top, you took out your camera to click some pictures of the scene.

You walked a bit backwards as you tried to capture the entire thing in one single frame. You bumped into someone and you were quick enough to turn your head and apologize. The person apologized too and you recognized the voice immediately.

“Mingyu?”, you asked.

Mingyu looked up from the bow and his eyes widened. He surged forward and hugged you tight. The warmth of Mingyu’s embrace melted you. You involuntarily hugged him back as you basked in the warmth of his strong arms. His grip was no joke and the way his hands encircled your waist, made you feel dizzy. You weren’t exactly a tiny skinny girl and honestly were more on the chubbier side. You felt so safe in his embrace that it almost made you want to stay there forever. You soon realized that he hugged you because he was scared. He was trembling a bit and was just relieved to see a known face.

“Oh my god I thought I lost you guys.”, explained Mingyu as he ended the hug.

“Why is your phone switched off?”, you asked, clearly missing the warmth of the hug.

“The battery drained while I was trying to call you guys.”, said Mingyu in a frustrated tone.

You patted his back as you assured him that you will take him back to the others quickly. You were great with directions and you clearly remembered the path you came by. You both quickly clicked a few more pictures and decided to head down to the group.

In the meantime, you informed the others to meet where Maya was seated as you guided Mingyu to the same place.

“Maya didn’t come with you guys to search for me?”, asked Mingyu in a small voice.

You felt guilty for saying the truth but you were in no place to lie to him, “Her legs were hurting so she decided to sit and wait.”

Mingyu nodded slowly and you could clearly see how his entire face dropped and his eyes became sad. You hated seeing Mingyu like this but you weren’t sure of how to sooth him. You had decided to break the friendship yourself, hence you have no right to act like his friend or say anything about the decisions he made. You just silently hoped for him to realize how toxic Maya was and how he deserved someone who loved him for himself. It’s not just for your own selfish need. Before every feeling you had, you cared for Mingyu a lot. He was a great friend and you can’t see him this exhausted.

The whole way back to where the group was, Mingyu explained to you the pictures he has clicked. He seemed so happy when he talked about photography. You were glad to still see him being this passionate about it. Normally when someone turns a hobby into their career, they lose interest in it but that wasn’t the case with Mingyu. He still loved photography like he used to and that made you happy. You teased him about how he still hated showing the raw pictures he clicked and he gave out an embarrassed chuckle.

“It’s just the pictures I clicked today are very close to my heart and I want to keep them for my personal collection.”, explained Mingyu.

You knew about this personal collection of his. He had once promised to show you the folder on your birthday but unfortunate events happened and your friendship broke just a week before your birthday. You were devastated and you never enjoyed birthday the way you used to.

After reuniting with everyone, Seungkwan hired taxis and led everyone back to the bungalow. Chan was quick enough to make some hot chocolate as soon as you all came out to the living room after freshening up. You wrapped yourself in a cozy blanket that you brought with you on the trip and sat on the single sofa, cocooning yourself as you took the cup of hot chocolate in one hand and your phone in the other. 

Everyone chatted around you as they talked about all the things they saw. You talked about one or two things and even showed them the pictures you have clicked. If it were some other days, Mingyu would have stayed silent but you were shocked when he gushed about the pictures you clicked and even complimented you saying how you have not lost your talent. 

He changed his seats and sat beside you to show you some good editing apps. You were a bit hesitant at first because you were not willing to be the cause that will create a rift in his relationship but he was so enthusiastic about it that you gave in. Jihyun soon came to your rescue as she also talked and listened to him so that you don't feel awkward under the constant glare of his so-called girlfriend.

"I am shocked you still click pictures.", commented Maya.

She hasn't spoken to you yet on this entire trip so you flinched a little when you heard her speaking directly to you.

"Yeah. It just stuck with me I guess.", you replied, trying to maintain your nonchalant posture.

"I remember you hating the photography classes when you first joined.", she said clearly trying to make you confess something absurd.

"Well yeah. I took it because I had a gap in my schedule but then I liked it.", you answered with same intensity. 

Anyone could see the tension that palpated between you both. Maya was once the person who held every little secret of yours. She knew about things that no one else knew of and now it seemed like she was using them against you. She knew you joined photography class out of a sudden rash decision and then stayed there just to get close with Mingyu. She knew that you started learning more about photography just to impress Mingyu and she was using this to embarrass you. 

"I think it’s great you love photography.", exclaimed Seungkwan suddenly. 

You smiled at him and realized how he was saving the situation. "Thank you Kwannie.", you answered.

"I remember when she won the photography competition in final year.", added Jihyun with pride. 

"Oh yes I remember it too.", Mingyu spoke softly. 

You were shocked. The competition took place off campus and the winner announcement was done in a small festival in the town hall. Not many people you knew attended it. It was only attended by participants and some of their friends, and other people of the town. You don't remember seeing Mingyu there. You assumed that he was probably busy with something so you never bothered yourself with it and focused on the competition. 

"You were there?", you asked, clearly shocked.

"Ah yes. I couldn't participate as I was out of town but I made sure to visit the festival to see who the winner was. I was glad it was you and not some random junior.", he chuckled.

Your eyes went wide. Your cheeks flushed a bit as your nuzzled more into your blanket and gave him a soft smile. The sound of shuffling made everyone turn their heads to find Maya has left the place. 

You audibly heard Mingyu groan as he hurried behind her to their room. The door slammed shut and it was all dead silence after that. 

click <<here>> to go to chapter 5!

✧˖* end notes: posting every monday! do suggest me ideas if you have any.<3