#YOU WRITE HIS INTERNAL FEELINGS SO SO WELL

[mononijikayu]

marry you — ryomen sukuna.

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?" Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!" Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 7.4k words

NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again!!!)~ this is the final (maybe) installment of amnesia and a day in a life . reader and sukuna have been together for a while after this. they're much happier and healthy here. yuji loves his unckuna and auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a ball writing this because i just, this was fun. seeing sukuna be silly. anyway i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3 also @midnight-138, this is for you, im sorry for my angsty writing <3

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── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THERE WAS NEVER A TIME IN HIS LIFE THAT ANYTHING WAS NOT MEASURED. Ryomen Sukuna had always lived by the belief that precision and decisiveness were the cornerstones of strength. His brother, Jin, was the opposite in that regard.

Jin was easygoing, someone who flowed through life with a relaxed confidence. That’s how he had ended up casually taking his wife Kaori’s name without a second thought after marriage, something that had never sat well with Sukuna. 

It wasn’t that Sukuna found it disrespectful; rather, he simply couldn't understand how someone could relinquish a piece of themselves so easily. To Sukuna, names held power, identity, and control. They were not to be changed on a whim.

And most of all, it was who he was. If his brother was going to let the name die, who would continue it? Yet maybe, that’s besides the point. Because it wasn’t the point.

The point was this — Ryomen Sukuna found himself in an unusual position, plagued by doubt. Unlike his brother, who easily adapted and made decisions without looking back, Sukuna was being dragged through an internal war, and this was uncharted territory for him.

He had always been sure—sure of his choices, sure of his actions, sure of his strength. Whether in battle or in the mundane aspects of life, he operated with an unshakable conviction. It had defined him for so long.

Except now, with the ring in his hand, everything felt different. 

For months, Sukuna had been reduced to a more fragile version of himself, struggling with emotions he thought he had long buried, emotions he used to scoff at as weakness.

But this—this wasn’t a trivial matter, not something he could merely slice through with a sharp blade or dismiss with his usual unyielding demeanor. This wasn’t about power or domination. It was about vulnerability, commitment, and the gravity of the choice he was about to make.

The ring wasn’t just a symbol; it was a testament to something far deeper. Sukuna had never hesitated before. But for the first time, he was wrestling with fear—the fear of being vulnerable, of giving a piece of himself away, just as his brother had done so easily. But was it really a weakness? Or had he, all this time, misunderstood the strength it took to let someone in?

He had bought it months ago. A shimmering band, simple yet unmistakably meaningful, one that carried the weight of everything he had come to feel for you. Every glance, every brush of your hand, every laugh—each moment had woven itself into the threads of his existence. And now, here he was, staring at this small, ridiculous piece of jewelry like it was the most dangerous object in the world.

He wanted to propose.

He had never wanted anything so badly in his life. He wanted to tell you, to kneel (a position he never imagined himself in) and offer you the promise of forever. The thought was absurd, wasn’t it? Him kneeling before someone?

Yet for you, the idea seemed... right. He didn’t just want you; he wanted to spend the rest of his days making you happy, something he had never imagined himself capable of until you.

And that’s what drove him mad.

He didn’t know how to do it. How was a man like him supposed to express something so fragile? Words weren’t his strong suit, and even if he could gather them, they always seemed to fall short when it came to you. How could he ever explain the storm of emotions, the way you’d carved a place for yourself in his blackened heart? The very thought of it made his fingers clenched into fists.

The timing, too—it was never right. Every time he thought he might do it, something held him back. What if he wasn’t enough? What if, despite everything, you said no? The ring burned in his pocket like a curse of its own, a reminder of everything he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Ryomen Sukuna who’s been in delinquent clubs, who’s been the most fearsome wrestler and now undefeated weightlifter — who has done anything, and yet never been frightened. Not at all. But proposing to you? That terrified him.

Sukuna wasn’t used to nerves, but ever since he bought that ring, they seemed to follow him everywhere. And as much as he hated to admit it, Sukuna was struggling. So, he decided he was going to get this over with—no more overthinking. How hard could it be, really? It was just a proposal. 

Attempt one: At dinner.

The scene was set. A quiet, candlelit dinner at your favorite restaurant. It was your birthday. No perfect day, right? It was everything that you could ever want. It was intimate, it was heartfelt and it was just completely perfect.

Ryomen Sukuna had been uncharacteristically calm the whole night, which should have tipped you off that something was up. Between bites of your meal, you saw him fiddling with something in his pocket. Your face scrunches at the sight of him. And then your boyfriend cleared his throat—a sound that, for someone as confident as him, felt almost foreign.

“So, baby….” he began, trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked just a bit. “How would you feel about spending the rest of your life—”

Suddenly, the waiter appeared with a massive tray of dessert samples.

“Would you like to try our seasonal—”

Sukuna glared at the waiter, his red eye twitching as the moment slipped through his fingers. You tried to stifle your laugh as the waiter, completely oblivious, kept talking about tiramisu. Sukuna nearly cursed the man on the spot, but instead, he dropped the conversation. That’s just as one would say — strike one.

Attempt two: Movie night.

Alright, he thought, a more relaxed setting would be better. Just you, him, and some stupid romantic movie you insisted on watching. This was just as intimate as the first one, but maybe a little bit more animated. Still, it was just between you two.

He thinks you would love it like this. The ring was ready in his hoodie pocket, and halfway through the movie, as the cheesy proposal scene played out on the screen, he thought, This is it. This is the moment.

But just as he leaned closer to you, reaching for the ring, the actor on screen dropped to one knee in front of the actress, who acted stunned. Everyone around the actors gasped and started freaking out and clapping. You groaned, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it.

“Oh my god, if anyone ever proposed to me like that!” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sorry baby, but I ain’t that gal. I’d die of second-hand embarrassment.”

Your boyfriend Sukuna froze, hand halfway to his pocket, and quickly pretended he was just stretching. He slumped back on the couch, gritting his teeth.

Not like that, got it.

Attempt three: At the gym.

This was it. No more romantic crap—just you and him doing something you both enjoyed. He’d taken you to the gym, your regular workout routine in full swing. He figured the casual vibe would work, that maybe he could just slip the proposal into conversation like it was no big deal. Everything about this was perfect. Everything was going to go the way he wanted. Yup, that’s how it will go.

The problem? Sukuna wasn’t built for “casual.” 

He spotted you while you were doing squats, casually throwing out, “You know… we should, uh, work on something long-term together, baby.”

“Huh? A long term plan?” You huffed back at him, your brows furrowed.

“I mean….something concrete. Like….like, something for us, you know? A long time.”

You blinked up at him, catching your breath. “Like a couple’s fitness plan?”

“Or... you know... life. Forever. Together.”

You squinted at him. “Are you feeling okay, baby? You sound delirious.”

He muttered something about “too many reps” and practically sprinted to the other side of the gym, leaving you utterly confused. Everyone was just as confused. You looked at the store clerk, Uraume but they just shrugged at you. You guess it was just one of those days.

Attempt four: The kitchen.

Ryomen Sukuna had woken up that morning and decided today’s the day. He was done failing, and he wasn’t going to overthink it anymore. He could do this. He knows he can. It wasn’t rocket science. People proposed all the time, and somehow they survived. And it happens, it ends up happening. Everything after that always ends up in a wedding. Yeah, he can do this. 

You were making breakfast, humming to yourself, when Sukuna casually strolled into the kitchen, the ring in his pocket yet again. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you. You were the only person who could make something as mundane as cracking eggs look beautiful. 

You looked up to him and smiled, greeting him sweetly. God, you were so beautiful. You looked like you were made from heaven. A genuine angel, as you asked him if he wanted coffee. He mumbled back and cleared his throat. You moved over to the other counter and started the coffee machine.

“Hey, babe.” he began, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was an odd edge to his voice. “How do you feel about... I don’t know... spending the rest of your life with me?”

Without looking up, you shrugged. “Sounds good. Can you pass me the salt?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—what?”

You finally glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “I said, yeah, sounds good. Now the salt, please?”

Sukuna stood there, frozen. Was that a yes? Did you even know he was proposing?

You stared at him, still waiting for the salt shaker. When he didn’t move, you walked over and grabbed it yourself. “Thanks, big guy.” you said with a playful smile, clearly unaware that Sukuna had just (sort of) proposed.  “Now, do you want some avocado on your toast today or nah?”

He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. It was hard for him to be angry with you either. You were too cute. Another failure.

Attempt five: The supermarket.

The ring still in his pocket, Ryomen Sukuna was now truly desperate. At this point, he was just winging it. You were both running errands, and as you reached for a carton of eggs in the store, he thought, Screw it. There were no romantic backdrops, no candles, no cheesy movie scenes—just the fluorescent lights of the grocery store. Your day to day. Nothing too much. This was now or never.

“Listen, baby.” he said, his tone more urgent than usual. “What if we just—”

At that moment, a kid ran by with a cart, ramming it right into Sukuna’s leg. A light groan came out of Sukuna as the kid’s eyes grew wide. Sukuna’s eyes turned dark as he glared at the kid. The kid swallowed the bile down his throat. As he was about to move, you called Sukuna. The kid let out a yelp and started pushing his cart. 

The child screamed, “Sorry, mister!” and ran off, leaving your boyfriend in a state of pandemonium.

You, still holding the eggs, glanced at him for a moment and burst out laughing.

He sighed, slumping against the shelf. “I’m never going to get this right, am I?”

You smiled, stepping closer and poking his chest. “Get what right, baby?”

Sukuna glanced at the ring still burning in his pocket and grumbled, “Nothing. Just... forget it.”

You didn’t push him, but your knowing smile told him you weren’t entirely clueless. Maybe you had been waiting all along. Maybe, despite all his ridiculous failed attempts, you already knew what was coming. 

Maybe, the next time he tried, you’d say yes before he even finished his sentence.

And maybe, that was exactly what he needed to hear.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

HIS MOTHER USED TO SAY THAT OLDER BROTHERS KNEW BEST. But in all his life, Ryomen Sukuna liked to pride himself never needing to end up asking his elder brother for advice. Or any help at all, if he was being honest. The scarlet eyed man never liked having his brother do things for him. He doesn’t like owing anyone anything. 

Because Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for asking anyone for advice—especially not about matters of the heart. 

But after months of failed attempts, Sukuna could only find himself sitting in his brother Jin’s living room, slouched on the couch with his hands pressed against his face. He had to give in and concede to what his mother said. His brother knew best. And he should ask him. The ring still weighed heavy in his pocket, mocking him at every turn. His mother’s nagging words came to him, almost as though she would still be pinching his ear. Maybe if you asked your brother, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, bro.” Sukuna muttered, his voice low, clearly frustrated. “I’ve been trying for months, bro. Months. Every time I think I’ve got it right, something goes wrong. I’ve got the ring. I’ve got the words. But I don’t know... it’s like nothing’s perfect enough. I don’t want to screw this up.”

Jin, ever calm and collected compared to his fiery younger brother, chuckled from across the room. He sat in his armchair, reading glasses perched on his nose, looking up from the book he had been reading. “You’re overthinking it, Kuna.”

“Overthinking?” Sukuna scoffed, sitting up and glaring at his brother. “I can’t just walk up and throw the ring at the love of my life, you know? They deserve something... more from me. I want it to be perfect.”

Jin set his book down and leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth turning up in a nostalgic smile. “You know, I went through something similar when I proposed to Kaori.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “You? Really? You seem so... calm about all of this.”

Jin laughed, shaking his head. “Calm? Hardly. I was a wreck. I had all these elaborate plans I worked really hard on. I thought I’d propose on a sunset beach or during some elegant dinner. But none of it worked out the way I thought.”

Sukuna frowned, curious despite himself. “So what did you do?”

Jin scratched the back of his head, clearly amused by the memory. “We were on a road trip—just a spontaneous one. I think that’s when we decided to go north. We got lost. The car broke down multiple times in the middle of nowhere, and it started pouring rain. Hard. We were soaked, stuck under a leaky gas station awning, of all places. There was nothing romantic about all of it. And yet…..well, it was what it was.”

Sukuna stared at him, baffled. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was, little brother.” Jin agreed, grinning. “But Kaori laughed through the whole thing. She thought it was hilarious. And that’s when I realized—there wasn’t going to be a perfect moment. So, I just asked her. Right there, soaking wet, covered in mud and all the dirt in the world. I didn’t even have the ring on me because I’d left it in the car. But I asked anyway.”

“And she said yes?” Sukuna asked, still trying to wrap his mind around how his brother had managed to pull that off.

Jin nodded with a wide smile. “Without hesitation. Because, little brother, it didn’t matter where we were or how it looked. What mattered was that I was asking her to spend her life with me. She didn’t care about the setting or the way I asked. She just cared about me. And wanting to continue loving me. So, she just said yes. Damn the world or what was good. She just…wanted me.”

Sukuna exhaled, leaning back again and letting that sink in. “I just... I don’t know if I can be that casual about it. I want the love of my life to love it. I want it to be... memorable.”

Jin leaned forward, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Kuna. It just has to be you. And about your love together. If sis in law does love you, it’ll be great no matter what. It will just happen. Trust me.”

Sukuna sighed, resting his head against the back of the couch. “I hope you���re right. I just—” 

Before he could finish, the door to the room burst open, and Yuji bounced in, grinning from ear to ear. He was still dressed in his football uniform. “Uncle Sukuna! I heard you’re going to propose! Let me help!”

Sukuna groaned. The kid had such good ears, damn him. “Oi, brat! This is... it’s not something I need help with.’specially not from you! It’s—”

“Oh, come on! I’ve got great ideas, unc! We can do fireworks, or... or maybe we can surprise auntie with, like, a whole flash mob at the mall!” Yuji’s excitement was contagious, but Sukuna could feel a headache forming at the thought of any of those ideas. “I think auntie will love it, you know?”

“No flash mobs, Yuji.”

Yuji pouted for a moment, but then his face brightened again. “Okay, okay, what about a treasure hunt? Like, you leave little clues everywhere, and the final clue leads to you with the ring! I mean, auntie would love that! Auntie’s always been someone who likes puzzles!”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jin, who was barely hiding his laughter behind his hand. His brother was enjoying this little misery of his. His nephew’s barely thirteen and yet he’s got the idealistic mind. Too much like his brother, Sukuna thinks. But then again, his mother’s the same sort of human being. 

“Hey brat, I don’t think your auntie appreciates getting dragged across the city just to find me with a ring at the end.” Sukuna said, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes now. “Auntie would get tired really fast then ask where’s the nearest soda shop.”

Yuji shrugged. “Well, whatever you do, it’ll be awesome. You’re awesome! Auntie will totally say yes.” He gave Sukuna a thumbs up, his usual boundless optimism shining through. “I mean, auntie’s been with you too long, so it's just bound to settle like that.”

“Wait, what do you mean settle—”

“Hey, hey! I didn’t mean anything mean about it.” Yuji pouted at his uncle defensively. “You know that much, unc! I love seeing you and auntie together.”

Sukuna shook his head at his nephew, though a small, begrudging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, brat.”

Jin, watching the exchange, nodded in agreement. “See, Kuna? It doesn’t matter how you do it. It’ll be great, because it’s coming from you.”

Sukuna sighed, feeling the weight of the ring in his pocket one more time. “I guess... I’ll just have to stop thinking so much and go for it.”

Yuji’s grin stretched even wider. “That’s the spirit now, unc! And if you change your mind about the flash mob, I’m totally in.”

Sukuna chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yuji, still bouncing with excitement, suddenly lit up with an idea. "Oh! I know! Why don’t you come and coach my football team for a day? You can do it there!" 

Sukuna blinked, utterly baffled by the suggestion. "Coach... football? What are you talking about, brat?"

Yuji was practically vibrating with energy now. "It’s perfect! You can come to practice, and we’ll, I don’t know, pretend something happened—like, I could pretend I twisted my ankle or something—and then, boom! You step in, gather everyone around, and propose! Auntie will be there all excited to be there and cheer us and you on."

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?"

Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!"

Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

But before he could properly dismiss the idea, Jin let out a hearty laugh from his chair. “Why not, little brother? It’s certainly different. Do you have any better ideas?” 

Sukuna shot him a look, but Jin just grinned. He could see his brother’s frustration boiling over, but there was also something else—maybe Sukuna was finally realizing that no moment was ever going to feel perfect. Not in the way he imagined.

“Come on, come on.” Jin said, still chuckling. “I mean, think about it. It’s so out of character for you that it might actually work. A little spontaneity never hurts anyone.”

Sukuna rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “You really think I should just... go to a football practice and pop the question in front of a bunch of sweaty teenagers?”

Yuji jumped in again, totally on board with his own wild idea. “Yeah! And I’ll totally sell it—I’ll limp off the field, everyone will be worried, and then you step up like a hero. I can already picture it!” He waved his arms dramatically, trying to sell the scene. "It’ll be epic."

Jin crossed his arms, his grin still plastered on his face. "It’s unconventional, sure. But it’s definitely memorable. And isn’t that what you wanted?"

Sukuna sighed, the absurdity of it all weighing on him. Coaching Yuji’s football team, of all things, to propose? He couldn’t believe this was even a conversation. Yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it might actually work.

Not because it was perfect—but because it was so wildly unexpected that it would leave you speechless. Maybe, after all these failed attempts, that was what he needed.

Still, he grumbled, "If this goes wrong, I’m cursing both of you."

Yuji laughed, slinging an arm over Sukuna’s shoulder, clearly unfazed by the threat. "It’s going to be great, Unc Sukuna! Trust me!"

Jin, still leaning back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. "So, is that a yes? You’re actually going to do this, little brother? No more backing out?”

Sukuna slumped back on the couch, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... yeah. Fine. Let’s try it your way, Yuji."

Yuji fist-pumped the air, grinning ear to ear. "Yes! This is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see their faces when you finally propose!"

Sukuna let out a deep sigh, glancing at Jin one last time. His older brother gave him an encouraging nod. What does he have left to lose? If anything, if it works — maybe you’ll laugh it off. And he…he likes seeing you smile anyway. What does he have left to lose?

“You’re overthinking it again, little brother.” Jin reminded him. “Just do it, hm? It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna could only hope his brother was right.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THE NEXT DAY, YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE GOING TO WORK. So, you had decided to stay lazily at home with Sukuna and just enjoy his day off together. Well, it worked out better considering that Sukuna informed your office you’ll be out for a while anyway. You happily hummed as you started making your cup of matcha milk for yourself. So far everything was well. In fact, the day had been going pretty normally. 

But then you could only blink at him when Sukuna, of all people, approached you in the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. He looked... slightly awkward, which was unusual for him. His scarlet eyes darted away for a moment before landing back on you.

“Hey, baby….” he said, almost too casually. “You wanna come to Yuji’s football game tomorrow?”

You blinked in surprise. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the type to invite you to these things. Usually, Yuji was the one who asked, and then Sukuna would begrudgingly tag along, acting like he was too cool to care. But now, he was asking you directly?

“You’re asking me to go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “And also….you wanna go?”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Is that... a problem or something?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to hide your smile. “No, not at all. I’d love to go. It’s just... surprising coming from you. Usually, you wait until Yuji begs you to show up.”

Sukuna shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing just a bit. “Yeah, well... I’m gonna be more involved this time.”

Your curiosity piqued, you leaned forward. “What do you mean? Like, are you finally going to cheer from the sidelines instead of pretending not to care?”

He looked away again, mumbling under his breath, “I’m coaching the team.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”

Sukuna shot you a look, already regretting this conversation. “You heard me. I’m gonna be their coach... for the game. Just a trial…..It’s just…. Maybe a one time thing.”

The shock only lasted a second before you burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The image of Sukuna, towering and intimidating, trying to coach a bunch of high school kids was just too much. It was all too much for you to think about your boyfriend. He crossed his arms on his chest like a little kid.

“Stop laughing.” he grumbled, clearly annoyed but also embarrassed.

You waved a hand, trying to catch your breath. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I’m just... I’m just imagining you barking orders at those poor kids like you do with your clients at the gym.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you, crossing his arms. “That’s not how I coach at the gym.”

“Oh really?” you teased, still giggling. “You’re not going to stand on the sidelines, yelling ‘Run faster, you idiot!’ and ‘Stop slacking off, sweat it off!’ like you do with your trainees?”

“Of course not, babe.” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips now. “Those brats won’t know what hit them.”

Your laughter continued, but now it was filled with genuine amusement. “I can’t wait to see this. You, coaching a bunch of teenagers, pretending to know anything about football. Oh, this will be gold, baby. I’m in!”

Sukuna groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’re really not helping, you know.”

“I’m sorry baby.” you said, still grinning as you put a thumb up. “I just can’t picture it without laughing. But hey, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

He grumbled under his breath again, but you could see the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’d better not laugh when you see me out there.”

“No promises here, baby.” you teased, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But I’ll be there, front and center, cheering you on.”

Ryomen Sukuna rolled his eyes, but the blush creeping up his neck told you everything you needed to know. Despite his gruff demeanor, he was secretly pleased. And maybe—just maybe—this ridiculous plan wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You know Yuji loves some good orange juice, so you brought cold packs of that in the cooler too. You supposed you could say that you were more excited than most. You had the full gear from their team and everything. It was something you requested from Sukuna and he got it for you before yesterday, when he got his own uniform. 

YOU DIDN’T SLEEP A WINK. But you couldn’t help it. You were too excited. The practices wee nice but each time you had to leave earlier for work. But this time, you got to have a full day just being there. These past few days, Sukuna's been in a gloom but he reassured you that its nothing. You wanted to press, but you knew your boyfriend too well to pry.

You were just one excited soul to be here. It was the tournament league now. And Yuji's team made it through the finals. You brought packs of snacks for you and Sukuna, some for the kids too in case their moms didn’t have anything on them. Some cold drinks too.

And now, you found yourself standing by the field, watching as Sukuna walked out with the team. The sun was brilliantly bright, and there was a decent crowd, mostly parents and students, filling the bleachers.

But your beaming eyes were glued to the unlikely sight before you: Ryomen Sukuna, your intimidating, tough-as-nails partner, now wearing a whistle around his neck and a deeply annoyed expression as he dealt with a bunch of teenage boys.

You could see precious Itadori Yuji bouncing around excitedly, clearly thrilled that Sukuna had agreed to coach. The rest of the team, however, seemed slightly nervous under Sukuna’s intense gaze.

Yuji’s two close friends, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, didn’t seem to care and were just playing with the balls and gloves, tossing to each other. But their nonchalant behavior was a stark contrast from everyone else. Some of them glanced back at you, probably wondering why this mountain of a man was suddenly in charge. But you don’t blame any of them. Your boyfriend did look imposing. 

Sukuna blew the whistle sharply, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing again. He barked out orders like a drill sergeant, his deep voice carrying across the field. “You—stop dragging your feet! Move it! You think this is a joke? Pick up the pace!”

You couldn’t help but lean against the fence, shaking your head with a smile. Well, you were right. It was exactly as you had imagined—Sukuna treating this football practice like a high-intensity training session at the gym. The kids were all scrambling around, trying their best not to get on his bad side.

After a particularly harsh instruction, you caught his scarlet eye from across the field. He gave you a look, clearly daring you to laugh, and you had to press your lips together to keep from cracking up. When you got it together, you started clapping and cheering for him. And for a moment, you could see a scarlet tint flush on your boyfriend’s cheek. That had made you smile.

During a water break, Yuji came jogging over, grinning from ear to ear. “How’s Unc Sukuna doing, Auntie? He’s totally killing it, right?”

You smiled and raised an eyebrow. “He’s certainly... in charge. The team looks a little terrified, though. Well, except Nobara and Megumi.”

Yuji chuckled, not even a little bit phased. “Yeah, but they’ll respect him. He’s making them work harder than our regular coach.”

You glanced back at Sukuna, who was currently standing with his arms crossed, scowling as one of the players asked him a question. He looked like he belonged in a weightlifting competition, not on a football field. Your boyfriend could have done so many things, you knew. But he said he got bored of it all, since people keep telling him what to do. But either way, your boyfriend would have ended up looking like this. This hunk of muscular muscle. 

“Well, as long as no one cries, I think it’ll be a success, Yuji!” you teased.

Yuji laughed and then leaned in closer. “So, do you think they suspect anything yet?”

You raised an eyebrow. You were confused. “About what?”

He gave you a mischievous look, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. “You know... Uncle Sukuna’s plan. The proposal.”

You blinked, your smile fading as confusion washed over you. Wait, hold on. Was Yuji talking about Sukuna’s proposal to expand the gym? He’d been telling you about that for months now, outlining every detail, every plan. Surely Sukuna hadn’t forgotten.

“Wait. That’s today?” you asked, half-expecting to hear more about Sukuna's latest gym renovation idea. 

But something in Yuji’s expression didn’t quite fit the usual conversation. His grin widened, almost teasing. You suddenly had the sinking feeling you might not be on the same page at all. But just as you were going to go and talk to him about it, the whistle blew again, and the game began. Yuji saluted you and ran off to the field once again.

You tried to keep your eyes on the match, the sounds of cheers and the smack of fists hitting against gloves filling the air, but your mind was elsewhere. Sukuna’s plan. It kept creeping into your thoughts, pulling your focus away from the fight.

He had been working tirelessly on the gym expansion for months, meticulously coordinating every detail. The proposal with the contractor was a major step, one he had been looking forward to with a mix of excitement and that quiet intensity he always had when he wanted something done perfectly.

But now, you couldn’t shake the worry creeping up your spine. If Yuji’s casual comment about the proposal meant what you thought it did, then something had gone wrong. Sukuna must have missed the meeting with the contractor. Your boyfriend never missed important business meetings, especially not one like this, which was practically the culmination of weeks of hard work and planning. 

You bit your lip, your gaze flickering back to the field, but all you could think about was Sukuna. His sense of control, of always being on top of things—what could have possibly distracted him? And why hadn’t he told you? Maybe you could’ve reminded him or helped him juggle things better. 

Your stomach tightened with unease. Sukuna wasn’t the type to slip up like this, not unless something bigger was weighing on him. You’d seen the way he had been acting recently—distracted, quieter than usual, though he would shrug it off if you ever asked. Was this just about the proposal, or was there something else, something deeper he hadn’t shared yet?

As the game continued, it became even more intense, but not nearly as intense as the look Sukuna had on his face as he barked orders from the sidelines. You could see him glancing your way every now and then, his jaw set, his eyes determined. This was insane, even for a league of teenagers in middle school. But you suppose that’s what happens when you put your boyfriend to coach on the field.

As the game drew to a close, with Yuji’s team pulling off a narrow victory, you noticed Sukuna’s posture shift. He was still his usual composed self, but there was something nervous about the way he kept adjusting the whistle around his neck. He takes a moment for a breath. 

When the final whistle blew and the players began congratulating each other, Ryomen Sukuna called out to them. “Alright, listen up! Get over here. I’ve got something to say.”

The entire team gathered around him, and you stood at the edge of the field, your heart pounding as you watched the scene unfold. You could see Yuji trying (and failing) to hide his excitement as he joined the group. Everything about was making you feel like you were going to lose it.

Sukuna cleared his throat, looking oddly serious. “There’s someone here today who’s... important to me.”

The players exchanged confused glances, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you realized he was talking about you.

Sukuna continued, his voice a little gruffer than usual. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I’ve been trying really hard to make this happen. I really have been. And I just…I’ve been thinking, to hell with it. We might as well go through with it. Even if it's going to be too much and lame.” He shot a pointed look at Yuji, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

Your heart was racing now, and you could feel the eyes of the team turning toward you. Sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box from his pockets. He opened it and you could clearly see it. There was something small and shiny inside of it. 

“This…..” he said, holding up the ring for everyone to see. “ This is what I’ve been working up the nerve to do for months.”

The entire field went dead silent. The team, the parents in the stands—everyone was watching.

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes finally met yours, and in that moment, all the tough, intimidating layers seemed to peel away. He stepped toward you in the bleachers, his beautiful face softening as he held the ring in his hand.

“I’m not good at speeches. Or, apparently, proposals.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but smile through the nerves. “But I know one thing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The world seemed to blur around you as Sukuna knelt down, holding out the ring. “So, what do you say?”

Your heart swelled as you took in the sight of him—this fierce, stubborn man who had somehow, in his own awkward way, found the perfect moment. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes as you whispered the only answer you could give.

“Yes.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, with Yuji practically jumping up and down as the team whooped and clapped. Sukuna stood, slipping the ring onto your finger, and pulled you into a tight embrace, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “Told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

You laughed softly, wiping away a tear. “It was more than perfect.”

Ryomen Sukuna grinned, leaning down to kiss you as the noise of the crowd faded into the background. Everything about the past? That didn’t matter at all now. Because all this, this is what mattered. After all that you both went through, after all that happens — everything was well. Because he was going to marry you. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

epilogue

As Sukuna pulled you close, his lips brushing against yours, the cheers and whistles from the crowd surrounded you both. Yuji, of course, was the loudest, pumping his fists in the air and hyping up the team, who were now clapping and laughing at the unexpected turn of events.

“Unc Sukuna’s engaged!” Yuji shouted, jumping onto the field. “Best day ever!”

You pulled back slightly from the kiss, your face flushed and your heart still racing, meeting Sukuna’s gaze. His scarlet eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a whirlwind of noise and celebration. He took your hand, where the ring sat on your finger and placed a small kiss upon it. You grew even more flustered.

Sukuna sighed, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

You chuckled, brushing a hand against his cheek. “Believe it. You just proposed in front of an entire football team.”

He groaned slightly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Nope. But I love that you did it.”

His arms tightened around you for a moment before he pulled back, glancing at the team who were still buzzing with excitement. He gave them a half-hearted glare. “Alright, enough gawking. Get off the field. We still have a game to win.”

The boys quickly scattered, though you could see the smirks and murmurs they exchanged as they left. Megumi and Nobara were snickering at how soft their coach Sukuna was looking at you. Your nephew Yuji, of course, was the last one standing there, grinning like an idiot.

“So, Unc Sukuna,” Yuji said, nudging his uncle’s arm. “How’d it feel to propose in front of an audience? Pretty cool, huh?”

Sukuna shot him a deadpan look. “Brat, don’t think I’ve forgotten this was your idea.”

Yuji only grinned wider, completely unfazed. “But it worked! Look at that ring! And look at auntie’s face!” He pointed to you, beaming. “You guys are the cutest engaged couple ever!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yuji, stop embarrassing your uncle.”

Sukuna crossed his arms, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve been spending too much time around Gojo, I swear to god.” he muttered under his breath, glancing at Yuji with mock annoyance. “I better tell your dad to never let you back in Fushiguro’s house.”

Yuji just shrugged. “Hey, I’m just a romantic at heart. I love seeing love win!”

Before Sukuna could retaliate, his elder brother Jin appeared from the sidelines, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder. “See? I told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna let out a long sigh, shooting Jin a look. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you were right.”

Jin raised an amused brow. “Guess?”

“Fine, fine.” Sukuna grumbled, a reluctant smirk forming. “You were right.”

Jin grinned. “That’s more like it. And for what it’s worth, little brother, you pulled it off pretty damn well. Look at that, you’re getting married. I’m so proud of you, hm?”

Sukuna grunted, still not entirely comfortable with the praise, but you could see the tension slowly leave his body. He wasn’t one to bask in sentimental moments, but for this one, he was letting himself enjoy it. 

“Thanks….big brother.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go back to the bleachers. Kaori’s gonna get lonely.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s meet down here so we can have dinner together.”

Jin grinned. “Oh, you’re paying tonight?”

“Oh, don’t think too far like that, big brother.”

Yuji, still full of energy, suddenly clapped his hands together. “Alright! Since you two are officially engaged, I think it’s time we celebrate!”

You glanced at Sukuna, who rolled his eyes but didn’t object. “Sure, why not?” he said with a shrug. “But I’m picking the place. No weird restaurants.”

Yuji pouted. “But there’s this ramen shop Gojo–sensei recommended—”

“No.” Sukuna said flatly, his tone brooking no argument.

You smiled, leaning into Sukuna’s side. “Wherever you want to go, we’ll go.”

Sukuna looked down at you, a rare warmth softening the usual intensity of his gaze. His voice, normally edged with authority, held a surprising tenderness. “I’ll think of something. Now go on. Go finish the game.”

You turned toward Yuji, who was standing there, clearly wanting to argue. “But unc—” he started, but Sukuna cut him off before he could finish.

“I said go!” Sukuna’s voice, firm but not unkind, sent Yuji running back to the field, his frustration bubbling over as he shouted, “It’s not fair!”

You watched Yuji dash off, his protests lost in the sound of his feet pounding the grass, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. He had always been full of energy, bouncing between enthusiasm and impatience, and Sukuna loved to tease him for it—though Yuji never seemed to take it lightly.

Turning back to your fiancé, you shot him a playful pout. “Must you tease him so much? He did help you propose, you know?”

Sukuna exhaled, a faint sigh escaping him as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. “Eh, He can handle a little teasing.”

You tilted your head, studying Sukuna’s face. Even though his words were casual, there was a deeper affection in them, one that wasn’t always so visible. Yuji, in his own way, had been a part of your lives, and you knew Sukuna cared for him more than he’d ever let on. But Sukuna’s way of showing love was always layered with a bit of roughness, teasing, and challenges—he never made things too easy, even for those closest to him.

“He’s just a kid,” you murmured, leaning into him, your pout softening as you placed your hands on his chest. “He looks up to you, you know.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah, well, he should know by now I’m not gonna go easy on him.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile broke through your pout. “Maybe try cutting him some slack next time. You can’t torment him every time he tries to help.”

“Torment?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Come on, he loves it.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced toward the field, where Yuji was back in action, still muttering something under his breath. “Besides, if I didn’t push him, who would?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, giving his chest a playful shove. “Alright, alright. But don’t be too hard on him. He really did come through for us.”

Sukuna’s expression softened again, and he gave you a knowing look. “I know. I’ll make it up to him.”

As you both watch Jin go back to the bleachers with Kaori, you feel your fiance's arms wrap around you. Your hands intertwined and on top of his hand, was your own. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger, your heart swelling with happiness. 

Ryomen Sukuna had surprised you—more than you ever thought he would. And while it hadn’t been a grand, romantic gesture in a traditional sense, it had been perfect in the most Sukuna way possible. Unconventional, slightly chaotic, but undeniably heartfelt.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: getting a curse that makes you horny is not how you expected your day to turn out....espeically when if means your friends have to help you deal with your situation

⊱✿⊰ warnings: straight up smut, pơrn w plot, aphrodisiacs, this could sort of be considered dub-con but i still believe it is consensual, also this is written by a minor so if u don't want that u can leave, don't report jst block chat, nobara teaching the boys abt girls bodies, simp boys, unprotected sex (be careful irl pls 🙏)

⊱✿⊰ notes: i went from writing slightly suggestive to a freaking foursome but im slay for it okay. i apologize if this sucks i do not know how to write sexual stuff but i had this dream and it was FIRE. Also i have seen like five episodes of this show so try not to give spoilers and i apologize if this is not how curses work 😭 if adults interact imma be weirded out bc these characters r my age 🤨

if you know me (other than skye) don't talk to me abt this unless ur happy im shy enough as it is 💀

you hadn't realized you had even been affected by the curse that hit you earlier until you were on the way to the academy. it was a strange sort of descent to suddenly have your skin feverishly warm and a white hot need coiling deep in your gut. you were practically shaking by the time you reached jujustu high.

you stumbled towards your dorm, ignoring the way any sort of friction against your core made you want to whimper like a cat in heat. your underwear was well on the way of being utterly soaked and your foggy brain couldn't even bother to care.

"you okay, [name]?" yuji asked, his sturdy hand wrapping around your waist when your knees started to buckle. you bit your tongue hard enough to draw small drops of blood to prevent the needy sigh from escaping your lips. he was so strong and he was so sweet, his gentle smile making you wish it was between your thighs.

"i'm fine...just exhausted." you managed to grit out, unable to disguise the thick strain on your voice. maybe you were going insane, because why else would you be feeling this...horny?

"i'd wager you're more than exhausted." megumi piped in, his intense stare sending electricity straight to your core. he walked forward, with nobara not far behind, his mouth in a set line. he continued, "you are being affected by an aphrodisiac inflicted by an incubus."

nobara gave you a sneaky smile coming closer and sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you against your body. you couldn't help the whimper that you released when you felt her warm breath against your cheek.

"you horny, baby?" she purred, making your jaw drop slightly. oh, so she knows. you looked at her shyly, give her a little nod.

"that's what an aphro whatever does?" yuji asked, his chest still firmly pressed into your back. megumi nodded, his eyes darting between how you're sandwiched between nobara and yuji.

"h-how do i make it go away?" you piped up, internally cursing at the tone of your voice. it was thick with need, heavy with lust. maybe you should google how to bury oneself alive? that would be better than this embarrassing situation.

"you need to orgasm, at the very least once. but it will probably require quite a few tries." megumi explained, calmly as if he wasn't talking about his classmate cumming. before you knew it, you were sitting on megumi's bed. nobara and yuji must have led you to his room while he was talking.

"your arms are almost like jelly, honey." nobara noted, picking up your limp arm before letting it drop to your side, "why don't you let us take care of this for you?"

this time megumi, yuji, and you all paused. even through the gnawing desire to be railed you were still surprised at the suggestion. yuji's jaw dropped and megumi blushed, both of their reactions endearing if you were in a better state of mind.

"i have heard far too much about how both of these losers want to fuck you but are too wimpy to do anything. and i wouldn't mind making my girl feel good." nobara sat on the bed beside you and let her hands drift down your thighs. you shivered, parting them almost instinctively.

megumi shot nobara a glare like he was pissed his secret had been revealed and yuji gave you a sheepish smile. both boths came closer until everybody was sitting on the bed.

"you should still be in good conscious to consent." megumi said, his eyes burning into the spot where your legs were spread ever so slightly. your skirt was rising slightly, more of your skin revealed. "do you feel comfortable with this, [name]?"

suddenly you felt all pairs of eyes on you, making arousal seep into your underwear and rendering them positively destroyed. even with your body weak and full of animalistic need, you still had a mostly coherent thought process.

"please, yes please." you stuttered out, looking down at your lap with a shy expression.

nobara grinned deviously at your consent before pulling you onto her lap, pressing your back into her chest. she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck and her hands drifting down your body.

"just relax, we're gonna make you feel real good." she said spreading your legs and lifting up your skirt to show off your underwear. normally you would be embarrassed that megumi and yuji were kneeling in front of you and staring directly at your cloth covered pussy. but you were far too gone to comprehend a single thing.

your underwear was fully soaked, a massive wet spot on them and the smell of your arousal wafting through the air. nobara kept kissing your neck, nibbling at the supple skin as her nimble fingers hooked around the waistband and slipped your underwear off.

your cunt was weeping for attention, puffy folds and twitching clit. your arousal was dripping down your legs, onto megumi's sheets. although he seemed too enthralled with your aching hole to care about the mess you were making.

a sharp gasp escaped your lips when nobara's fingers met your clit, rubbing it gently and in circular motions. as though their eyes had an invisible touch, the intense focus of both megumi and yuji added extra stimulation to your body.

"see this? this is like the key to the treasure chest." nobara said, still steadily rubbing that little bundle of nerves. you wiggled in her lap, trying to stop the embarrassing whimpers from escaping.

"does that feel good, [name]?" yuji asked, his hand suddenly reaching out to grab your thigh and keep you from wriggling out of nobara's hold. his touch was gentle but fuck was he strong.

you nodded and let out a little moan as nobara fingers slipped to your slit, collecting the wetness before teasing your hole. it eagerly tried to suck her digits in, aching to be filled.

"needy, are we?" megumi noted, the goregous rumble of his voice sending vibrations straight to your cunt. it clenched around nothing, showing off your horniness to your entire friend group. dear lord you were about to be fucked by all your friends.

finally nobara sunk her slender fingers in your cunt, the pads of her digits massaging the gummy walls. your toes curled and your back arched, a sigh of pleasure and relief filling the air like a lustful breeze. she grinned against your neck, going back to kissing you as she dipped her fingers in and out.

your pussy shamlessly gushed as she did this, loud enough you were sure the entire world could hear how well you were being fingered. not to mention the pretty little gasps and sighs that slipped between your parted lips.

"fuck," yuji grunted and your eyes fell from staring at the ceiling to him. his hand was cupping his massive bulge through his pants, his brown eyes blown out wide with lust. megumi wasn't fairing much better with a bright red face and parted lips he kept wetting.

"c'mon pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?" nobara purred, her free hand drifting from your waist to slipping under your shirt. she found your tits beneath your shirt and bra, rolling your hardened nipple between two of her digits.

your body suddenly tensed, walls clenching around her slender fingers as they curled right at the spongey point of pleasure. your cunt practically sucked her fingers in as it gushed around them. your jaw slightly dropped as your long wanton moan filled the room like a symphony of your pleasure.

"good girl." nobara praised while megumi and yuji stared at you with wide eyes. with a sudden shyness, you realized you might have been the first girl to have cum in front of them.

even with the orgasm you still felt that burn in your core and slick dripping down your thighs, like the needy whore you were. your mind was fuzzy with lust, pussy aching to be filled yet again.

"megumi, how about you fuck our princess?" nobara suggested, still rolling your senstive nub between her fingers as though to appease you while you waited, "and yuji, fill her mouth so she can't be too loud, yeah?"

the two boys agreed and suddenly you were being placed flat on the bed. your uniform was being stripped off by all three hands, leaving you naked and vulnerable soon.

megumi lifted your legs and spread them a bit more, you whining as the cool air brushed against your leaking cunt. he groaned softly, his raging hard on rubbed against your thigh.

he unzipped his pants enough for his cock to spring out, a pretty pink color with precum leaking out of the reddish tip. then he fixed your position, stroking his dick and rubbing the tip aganist your weeping slit. you whimpered, wriggling your hips like it would make it magically slip inside..

"shit," megumi hissed as he finally sunk his length into your pussy. you whined loudly as he finally filled you up, your back arching in attempts to get him deeper.

suddenly your eyes snapped upwards when you felt yuji's cockhead pressing into your lips. eagerly you parted them, tongue sticking out to lick the precum oozing out. yuji let out a soft sigh as you finally let him in, tongue exploring the large mass inside your mouth.

nobara wasn't feeling excluded at all it seemed, with the way her hands wandered to play with your tits. she smirked, watching the erotic scene unfold in front of her.

you felt almost like a ragdoll, getting fucked on both sides. megumi's thrusts were long and teasing, sliding almost all the way out before slamming all the way in again. whereas yuji was erratic and passionate, carelessly fucking your throat.

it was possibly the hottest and strangest situation you have ever found yourself in.

your moans were muffled by yuji's cock, mixed in with the soft gags of being filled up so entirely. everything felt so lewd, squelching of your cunt being hammered into by megumi and the slurps of you intently sucking yuji off.

nobara wasn't too upset about not getting "her turn" yet especially since she would prefer to have you get her off when it's just the two of you. she was patient...for now.

suddenly yuji stilled, then he kept thrusting into your mouth with jerky movements. "fuck! I'm gonna-"

a white hot liquid squirted into your mouth. It was salty and a little bitter but not terrible tasting. you swallowed up the pink haired boy's cum, some of it dribbling down your chin. once he was done he slowly pulled out, his cock softening slowly. yuji looked at you with wide eyes, almost like you showed him jennifer laurence not sucked him off

you squeaked suddenly, returning your attention to megumi who pinched your clit. he pouted at you, as though a little annoyed yuji had held your attention for so long.

you gave him a breathless smile in-between the sighs of pleasure at his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. you didn't even know something could be that deep inside of you and yet here he was, turning your tummy inside out with his dick.

"i want you to cum at the same time as me. can you do that for me, princess?" megumi said, speeding up his sensual pace. his hips snapped up to meet yours quicker now, his nimble fingers rolling and rubbing your sensitive nub in all the ways that made you certain you would explode.

with a final flick to your clit, you moaned his name and your walls squeezed around his cock. as thought triggered by your orgasm you felt his warm seed spurting inside your core, filling you up. he fucked you both through your highs, keeping his creamy cum inside your pussy.

a small whine fell from your sore throat at the empty feeling where megumi's dick used to be. however you felt that almost agonizing burn started to fade, satisfied by what you had been giving.

"aw baby." nobara cooed, gently petting the top of your unruly hair, "let us clean you up. you must be so tired from all that, yeah?"

you nodded slowly, allowing the boys to distangle from your body and allow nobara instruct them on how to clean you properly. you only started to drift off when you felt the trio cuddle around you, with nobara laying on your tummy, megumi spooning you from behind and yuji in the front. the warmth of your friends (with benefits?) coaxed your exhausted body to sleep.

hopefully you wouldn't have to ever think about the consequences of this....or at least until morning.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Inter(n)twining

synopsis: you’re an intern at JYP Corp, you get suddenly moved to a different floor and meet the woman of your dreams

cw: basically pure fluff, jealous Tzuyu, minor cursing, alcohol, grimey He*chul, please let me know anything else, also Tzuyu is like rich but it doesn't relate to the plot

word count: 4k

notes! hi! I hope you enjoy this!! It was sooo fun to write. I thought about this on my way to my own internship hahaha. Has anyone watched Queen of Tears? I referenced that one (<-watch it if you haven't!) scene in this that I thought was soooooo cute ahh~ anyways! Let me know how you feel about this or if you’d just like to chat. Love youuuu (:

You’d been interning at JYP Corp for about a month and a half now, and so far, things were pretty good. The people you met were okay, and while the work was definitely stressful, the fast-paced environment made the days fly by.

All in all, it wasn’t bad.

Well, almost.

Your floor boss, Heechul, was the one exception. He was in his early 40s, arrogant, and rude—those were the kindest words you could think of to describe him. You despised him secretly, but you were careful never to show it.

It was 9:20 a.m., and you had been at your desk since 7:30, typing up a last-minute report Heechul had dumped on you the moment you stepped through the office door. A report he honestly should have done yesterday.

“Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The way his smug grin appeared as your face faltered for a split second was permanently burned into your memory.

You mimicked his tone quietly to yourself while you made a face, “Get this done by 10, ’kay?” The bitter satisfaction of hitting ‘send’ on the email 40 minutes ahead of schedule almost made up for the annoyance.

“Hey, uh…”

Your heart dropped when you saw Heechul’s head suddenly poke over your cubicle wall.

Did he have super-hearing or something?!

You froze, horrified at the thought that he might’ve overheard your mocking.

“I’m so—” you began, your words stumbling out, but he cut you off without even glancing in your direction.

“Intern #5…” he drawled lazily, “someone on the 3rd floor got pulled into another project. They need someone to fill in for a 12 week case.” He flashed an indifferent smile as you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Oh, okay. When do I start?” Not even questioning what you’d be doing for the next TWELVE weeks

“Hmm.. like now. Just grab whatever you need and head down there. Thanks!” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you blinking in disbelief.

What the hell. No details, no briefing? Just like that?

Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed your briefcase and stuffed your sparse desk items in it before making your way out the door and into the elevator. It wasn’t until you were inside that it hit you.

He didn’t even know your name. After over a month of interning, you were still just ‘Intern #5.’

“Ahh~ Seriously, fuck that guy…” you muttered to yourself as the elevator dinged, straightening your posture instinctively.

The third floor felt like a completely different world. The cubicles were laid out in a way that was the total opposite of what you were used to, leaving you standing there awkwardly, much like a worried puppy with the way your eyebrows furrowed.

After a few moments a soft voice broke through your thoughts. You turned your head to see a woman peeking out from her cubicle, you only needed to see half her face to realize she was stunning.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah… I was sent here to help out on the 12 week case,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck. “But the layout is completely different from the 4th floor, so I’m a bit lost.”

She smiled warmly and stood up from her desk. “Oh! It must be the case I’m working on, my boss mentioned something earlier about another intern joining me so I think she is expecting you!  Her office is down that hall, last door on the left.” Using her long arms to point you in said direction. 

“Thanks a lot!” You started to walk away but paused, realizing you hadn’t asked for her name.

“Tzuyu,” she said with a smile, extending her hand.

“Y/n… Or, as my boss calls me, Intern #5.” You sighed with a small laugh, shaking her hand.

Tzuyu giggled softly. “I’m also an intern and I’ve heard stories about how he treats us. I think I can safely say Jihyo-nim is much nicer” assuaging your worries

As you exchanged smiles with Tzuyu, her warmth immediately calmed your nerves. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing you'd be working with someone friendly for once.

"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll try not to embarrass myself in front of her," you said with a small grin.

Tzuyu chuckled softly. "You'll be fine. She's really understanding—definitely not the type to make you feel like Intern #5," she reassured you, her voice playful.

With one last nod, you turned and made your way to Jihyo’s office, the nerves slowly creeping back in. You took a deep breath, knocked twice, and heard a clear voice from inside.

I really can’t deal with another Heechul situation

"Come in."

Opening the door, you found Jihyo seated at her desk, her space neat and organized but stacked with files. She looked up from her work and smiled brightly. "Y/n, thanks for stepping in on such short notice."

"No problem at all," you said, relieved she actually used your name.

Jihyo stood up and grabbed a folder from her desk. Jihyo motioned for you to sit. "The project we’re working on is a client case that’s been a bit tricky, but with the extra hands, we should be able to get things done faster.” She handed you the file to briefly read it over, “I’m assigning you to work on it with another intern, and I’ll walk you over to your station. You’ll be seated next to your partner."

You nodded, feeling your nerves settle. "Sounds great!"

Jihyo led you out of her office, down the hall, and toward a cluster of cubicles. As you approached, your heart skipped a beat when you realized she was guiding you right to the cubicle next to Tzuyu’s.

“Tzuyu, this is Y/n," Jihyo said with a smile as she motioned toward you. "You’ll both be working together on this case."

Tzuyu smiled warmly as she stood up. "Oh, we've already met!"

Jihyo blinked in surprise for a moment before chuckling softly. "Well, that’s perfect. That makes things easier." She gestured toward the empty cubicle next to Tzuyu’s. "Y/n, this is where you'll be sitting. Tzuyu’s already familiar with the case, so she’ll help you get caught up, and you two can take it from there. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" She made a slight notice how the tips of your ears were beginning to turn red before turning away.

"Thank you," you said, bowing before stepping into your new space and setting down your things.

As Jihyo left, you turned toward Tzuyu, a grin tugging at your lips. "Looks like we’re officially teammates."

Tzuyu nodded, her expression playful. "I guess that means I’ll be seeing a lot more of you."

"It seems so," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the idea of working closely with her made your heart flutter just a bit.

Tzuyu sat back down and gestured toward a stack of neatly organized documents. "Okay, let’s get started. I’ll walk you through what we were working on so far, and we can go from there."

You nodded, scooting your chair closer to her, your shoulder just barely brushing against hers as you both leaned in toward the table. The soft sound of paper flipping echoed against the steady lull of the room as Tzuyu began to explain the case, her voice was so calming. Her perfume—a subtle, sweet scent—seemed to linger in the air between you, and though you were trying to focus on her words, it was hard not to get a little distracted.

As she spoke, you couldn’t help but admire how composed and thoughtful she was, her long fingers moving gracefully over the pages. You found yourself glancing at her more often than the documents in front of you, drawn in by her presence. There was something undeniably captivating about the way she carried herself—poised, elegant, but still approachable.

“Do you understand it a bit more now? If not I can go over it again,” Tzuyu’s voice broke through your thoughts, and when you looked up, her eyes were already on you, curious. There was no judgment, just a soft smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it off with a grin. “Oh~! No, that’s okay,” you assuaged. “I’m just trying to process all of it”

She gave a small, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the documents. “Well, you're doing great, I know I just said a lot of words” she giggled, her tone soft but warm.

Over the last eight weeks, you and Tzuyu had gotten to know each other better. Your work together became a steady rhythm—casual conversations, shared laughs, and, to your delight, a shared love for music. It made the long car rides during company trips feel less like work and more like a comfortable escape.

One afternoon, while heading back to the office after a client visit, you caught Tzuyu quietly nodding along to a song from your playlist.

"You like Twice?" you asked, glancing over with mild surprise.

Tzuyu smiled, still looking out the window. "Yeah, I didn’t expect anyone here to listen to them."

"Same here," you chuckled. "You ever seen them live?"

Tzuyu turned her head, her smile growing. "Once, back in college. It was unforgettable."

"I’ve been meaning to for years but never got around to it," you replied. "Maybe next time they’re touring here."

"Maybe we can go together," she said, her voice was so forward yet soft, and the thought of seeing a concert with her lingered in the back of your mind long after the conversation ended.

That evening, after another long day, you found yourself staying late to finish some reports. Tzuyu had already called it a night, stopping by her neighboring cubicle as she prepared to leave.

"Hey, don’t stay too late," she said, offering a tired but warm smile.

"I won’t be long," you replied, stretching your shoulders. "I’ll see you tomorrow!"

"Good night, Y/n" she said, and with a soft wave, she headed out.

It was nearly an hour later when you finally finished up, the office almost eerily silent. You grabbed your things and headed out, only to find Tzuyu standing by the entrance under the building’s foyer, her arms crossed as she looked out at the rain pouring down.

You frowned, assuming she was waiting for the storm to calm down. "Seriously?" you muttered to yourself, amused that someone so seemingly put-together would forget an umbrella on a night like this. With a sigh, you walked over to her.

"Tzuyu, did you forget your umbrella?" you assumed lightly, a teasing smile on your face as you stood beside her.

Tzuyu turned toward you, blinking in surprise. "Oh, no, I'm just waiting for—"

"For the rain to stop?" You asked as you frantically put your stuff down on the concrete while taking off your blazer.

"You'll get sick if you try to walk home like this," you interrupted, pulling out your own red umbrella of your bag and pressing it into her hands while also throwing your blazer around her.

Tzuyu opened her mouth to respond, but you didn’t give her a chance.

"Here, take mine."

Tzuyu blinked, a bit taken aback. "But what about you?"

"I’ll be fine," you said with a reassuring smile. "The bus stop is just around the corner, and so I’ll be good. Besides, this umbrella’s way too nice to just be used in a short walk!"

Tzuyu hesitated, looking between you, the umbrella, and the pre-warmed jacket around her. She opened her mouth again, probably to explain, but you waved her off, already heading toward the street. "Seriously, don’t worry about it! It looks better on you anyway!"

Before she could protest, you were jogging away, flashing her a quick cheeky smile over your shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Tzu~!"

She stood there, the unopened red umbrella still in her hand and blazer around her as she watched you dart off toward the bus stop, your silhouette slowly disappearing in the fog of the heavy rain. Tzuyu glanced down at the umbrella, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“I .. have a driver..”

Just as she stood there, still processing what had happened, her driver finally pulled up, headlights cutting through the downpour.

"Miss Chou, I apologize for the delay—the rain's been causing awful traffic," the driver said, stepping out to open the door for her.

Tzuyu looked down at the umbrella again, momentarily lost in thought. "It’s okay, don't worry about it" she murmured, climbing into the car, the umbrella still firmly in her grip.

As the car drove off, Tzuyu’s thoughts drifted back to you—how you’d rushed off into the rain without a jacket nor without a second thought, stupidly smiling despite the storm, leaving her with your umbrella. She looked out the window as the bus drove off in the distance, watching your form disappear from view, wondering about you, and why you so easily gave her the clothes off your back.

The next morning, when you arrived at the office, you saw Tzuyu already at her desk, the red umbrella propped up against your chair.

“Good morning Tzu!” You cheerfully greeted her while making your way to your respective space. 

She glanced up as you approached, her usual calm expression shifting to something more thoughtful.

"You know, you didn’t have to do all that last night," she said softly, as if she’d been thinking about it all morning. (she was)

You shrugged, giving her an easy smile. "I couldn’t let you walk in the rain like that. It’s just an umbrella and I bought that jacket from Amazon, no big deal! I’m glad you got home safe."

Tzuyu held your gaze for a moment, her eyes lingering on yours before she looked down. "Still… I appreciate it. I’ll give it back when it’s dry-cleaned"

Dry-cleaned?

"No it’s okay! Don’t worry about it," you replied, brushing off her concern with a wave of your hand. "It’s really okay!"

But as you settled into your seat, something about the exchange left an unspoken feeling between you both, small but undeniably there. You couldn’t quite shake it—the way her gaze lingered, it seemed like a quiet weight resting beside her.

And maybe, just maybe, that gesture meant more than either of you were ready to admit

Twelve weeks had passed, and you and Tzuyu had finally closed the case(successfully!) you’d been working on it for so long. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and both the third and fourth floors were buzzing with excitement. As the end-of-year office tradition dictated, Jihyo—and unfortunately, Heechul—organized a work dinner and drinks to celebrate the mid-year successes.

Dinner started smoothly. Everyone was relaxed, conversations filled with lighthearted laughter and stories of the past few months. Tzuyu sat beside you, nursing her drink, her small, contented smile only adding to the warmth of the night.

But then, the drinks started flowing.

As the evening wore on, you noticed Heechul’s eyes repeatedly drifting toward Tzuyu. From the moment he saw her, it was clear what his intentions were. His predatory gaze, the same one you’d witnessed with other interns, made your blood simmer. He was so zeroing in.

Tzuyu, who was carefully sipping her beer, had stiffened as Heechul sauntered over with a smug grin, the two small glasses in his hand wobbling slightly from how much he’d already consumed.

“Hey, Tzuyu, right?” Heechul drawled, leaning on the table beside her. “Let’s do a love-shot. It’s for team bondinggg~” He flashed her a grin, his voice dripping with sleaze.

Tzuyu froze, glancing away uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, I don’t really drink..” she murmured, clearly looking for a way out.

“Oh, come onnn~!” Heechul leaned in closer, his body practically pinning her against the wall which happened to be your back. “Don’t be shy. It’s just one drink~!”

That was enough.

Without missing a beat, you stood from your seat, a little unsteady from your own drinks but filled with purpose. 

“Boss-nim, how about… you come here!” You feigned excitement while the whole tables’ eyes were on you two

In a few steps you guided him and you closed the distance, slipping Heechul away from Tzuyu smoothly, effortlessly blocking her from his sight with your body while wrapping your forearm around his.

“How about this, Boss-nim?” you said with a playful grin, your voice steady despite the alcohol in your system. “Why don’t we take that love-shot together!?”

You leaned in closer, one arm propped against the wall beside his head, the other smoothly taking one of the glasses from his hand.

Heechul blinked, visibly surprised but clearly intrigued by your boldness. His smirk widened. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d be so forward, Intern #5.”

God did you hate this man.

You internally rolled your eyes as you tilted your head, giving him a fake smile. “Why not? I’m a big team player, right? ” You clinked his glass, maintaining your position between him and Tzuyu.

Heechul's initial shock melted into something more. His grin grew cockier, but now with a hint of appreciation. He raised his glass, eyeing you with newfound interest. “Well, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

You turned out to the table of people watching, letting the tension simmer. “To teamwork! ” You said, your voice is just loud enough for your table to hear.

Heechul clinked his glass against yours, his gaze still locked onto you. “To teamwork,” he echoed.

You both threw back the shots, and while the burn of the alcohol hit your throat, you couldn’t help but hide a face of disgust at the sight of Heechul staring at you with a mix of admiration and something else entirely.

As you set your glass down, you noticed some of the female coworkers nearby watching you both, whispering among themselves.

“Wow, did you see that?” one of them murmured, clearly impressed. “She totally flipped the situation and helped that one girl”

“Right? That was so smooth. She’s got some serious charm.”

“I think Heechul-nim’s  into her now.”

“Hell— I’m even into her now! What’s her name?”

Their whispers weren’t exactly quiet, and the compliments floated through the air, filling the space around you. You caught snippets of their words, and even in your slightly tipsy state, you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks due to flattery.

But then, you glanced at Tzuyu. Her usually soft expression was tight, her eyes focused on the table, hands gripping her drink a little too tightly. She wasn’t saying anything, but there was something in her silence—something that felt like quiet jealousy.

Before you could process it, Heechul broke the moment by leaning in toward you with a grin. “I’ve got to say, Intern #5, you’re full of surprises.”

You chuckled, but there was no mistaking the sharp edge in your voice. “Gotta keep you on your toes, right boss-nim? Can’t let you make just anyone uncomfortable!” You said while slipping back into your seat

His laughter boomed through the room, seemingly laughing off that sly jab, the other colleagues joined in, you felt Tzuyu’s presence beside you, still silent, still reserved. You turned toward her, catching her gaze for just a brief moment, her eyes meeting yours before she quickly looked away, her expression unreadable.

Leaning down slightly, you whispered to her, “Hey, you okay?”

Tzuyu nodded, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just... tired. Maybe I’ll head home soon.”

“Oh! Please, I can walk you home,” you suggested, voice slightly slurred from the alcohol but laced with genuine concern.

Tzuyu glanced at you for a brief moment, her face unreadable. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice soft but clipped as she grabbed her things.

You both bowed respectfully to thank everyone for the dinner before slipping out the door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside.

The silence stretched between you as you followed behind her. Her long strides made it hard to keep up, and you couldn’t help but feel that she was walking with a certain purpose—like she was intentionally trying to get ahead of you while you were left following her like a loyal dog.

“Tzuyu-ya, what’s wrong?” you called after her, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to close the distance. She kept walking, her pace unfaltering, and for a moment, you wondered if she was genuinely trying to avoid you.

“Tzuyu-ya,” you called again, a little louder this time as she reached the edge of the bridge near her house. In a moment of panic, you gently grabbed her arm to stop her.

She froze.

“I’m so sorry… did I make you uncomfortable? Did you want Hee—” you started to ask, words tumbling out in your haste to apologize. Your heart sank at the mere thought that maybe you had overstepped, that maybe she had wanted to—

“Yes! You made me uncomfortable!” Tzuyu interrupted, spinning around to face you, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger.

You blinked, shocked. “I’m sorry... I thought you were trying to get away from—” Trying to explain

“You were being too cute!” Tzuyu blurted out, cutting you off again, her face flushed even darker as she averted her gaze, clearly flustered.

Your eyes widened at her sudden admission. "W-What?"

“You were being charming... in front of other women!” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouting child. “Why would you do that? Are you trying to attract them? It was too charming!”

It all hit you at once. Her awkward silence, her reservedness during dinner—it wasn’t because of Heechul, it was because of you. Even through the fog of alcohol, you suddenly understood.

You took a step closer to her, your heart racing. “Tzuyu, I—” you began, but her vulnerability was so palpable in that moment, it stopped you in your tracks.

Without thinking, you reached up, cupping the right side of her face with your hand. Her skin was warm beneath your palm, and her breath hitched as your thumb gently caressed her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice low but steady. “I won’t do that again. I promise... my charm will only be saved for you, my Tzuyu.” You gave her a sweet smile

Tzuyu’s eyes flickered with something raw and unguarded as she looked up at you, absentmindedly nuzzling into your hand, her vulnerability so clear in the way she held your gaze. “It better not,” she murmured, though her words carried no real bite.

In that moment, the air between you felt thick with something unspoken, an invisible thread pulling you closer to her. Your heart pounded as you realized what you had/wanted to do.

Or maybe it was the alcohol in your veins? Or maybe the sheer need to kiss her right in that moment.

Tzuyu’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, but she didn’t pull away. She held your gaze, her breath shallow, her lips parted just slightly as if waiting for something—for you to make the first move.

And so, you did.

Without another word, you gently tilted her chin up with your thumb, leaning in slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the warmth of her skin beneath your hand only urged you closer.

Your lips met hers in a soft, tentative kiss—almost like a question. She responded with a slight, shy press of her lips against yours, her breath catching as the kiss deepened. You could feel the soft tremble of her shoulders beneath your hands, as if she was just as unsure and just as eager.

For a brief moment, the world outside disappeared—The bridge, the distant city sounds—all of it melted away.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, both of you catching your breath. You felt her fingers brush against your hand, hesitant but full of meaning, as if she was silently asking, What now?

You smiled softly, your thumb tracing her cheek one last time before you whispered, “I meant it. It’s just you, Tzuyu.”

Her lips curled into a small, bashful smile as she whispered back, “Just me.”

Maybe come Monday you’ll ask Jihyo for a permanent position on the third floor.

[creepswrites]

MASK OF HATE (CH 3) | Michael x Reader

just when i was finally starting to feel better physically, i tanked mentally :') so i'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. i hope this was worth the wait though! i promise i Do plan to work on other stuff besides just MoH but rn i just. needed to write Michael for a bit

MICHAEL MYERS x FTM!READER (he/him)

SUMMARY: You internally cursed Dr. Loomis for tormenting this man for so, so many years. Embodiment of evil your ass, he was so obviously desperate for love and care that he'd practically thrown himself at you as soon as you'd proven you would love him no matter what. He was more than the traumas he felt compelled to reenact. He was so, so much more and you loved every part of him.

PREV || NEXT

Halloween in Haddonfield was always a high-strung time for the town.

Ever since the Halloween killings a few years ago, the town had taken a hesitant approach to the holiday. Parents made a point to accompany their kids everywhere or just simply stay home with them. If phones went down or power went out, babysitting teens were told to cross the street and get help, no matter what. Despite the horrors, people still dressed up, still went looking for candy, and still snuck out to make out with their respective partners.

Halloween for you had been quiet. You'd gone to a small costume party with your friends and tried to stay busy. You knew Michael was out working since news of his crimes reached your party, people whispering and gasping at the reported murders coming from the televisions.

You tried not to think about it.

By the time you got home, it was nearly 2am and you were exhausted. As though sensing your arrival, the Boogeyman stepped out of the shadows of your kitchen, bloodstained and breathing heavily. "Busy night?" You'd called to him with a tired smile. He tilted his head in lieu of any response.

With the holiday over, you wondered what Michael would do next. For many nights after, you lay in bed and bore holes in your ceiling as you tried to come up with a plan. Would he leave? Go back to Smith's Grove? Surely he couldn't keep killing, right? There'd be no people left in Haddonfield eventually. But was that the point?

You didn't know. You didn't like not knowing.

But he didn't do any of those things. Instead, he'd sit on your couch and watch television, intrigued by the cartoons, or follow you around the house. If you left, he'd stalk you from a distance just out of sight. He joined you for dinner and movies in front of the television and seemed to enjoy watching horror films when you put them on. You knew him well enough to notice he had a soft spot for The Thing so you tried to put it on as often as possible.

It became the new normal. Domestic and quiet.

Months passed. Fall oranges faded to browns and whites as winter approached. You'd leave out food for Mayhem in hopes he'd come home but you began to lose hope. All you could do now was pray he didn't suffer or that he hadn't been eaten by some other animal.

Michael always watched you when you did this, stood in the doorway of the backdoor while you sat on the narrow steps, hoping your kitty would come home. It might've looked silly to him but he never tried to stop you. You appreciated that.

During all this, he didn't kill anyone. At least, not that you knew of. You tried to avoid the news and, with your dad gone, you didn't have much insider information anymore. Who knows if they were even still looking for him.

So you made a Thanksgiving feast. Michael was familiar with the concept but you knew it had likely been a long time since he'd actually gotten to participate. So you went all out - turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, green bean casserole, gravy, the whole nine yards. The two of you ate together on your couch and watched Charlie Brown episodes, eating your weights in food and falling asleep on opposite ends of the couch.

When you'd woken, you had been taken aback by how peaceful he looked when he slept. Curly hair ruffled from the awkward angle he lay against one of your throw pillows, his face still but not tense. Pretty, you thought to yourself not for the first time.

It was nice. Everything felt perfect.

One afternoon when you'd gotten back from work, you saw Michael masked up and standing on your front porch cradling something wrapped up in an old towel. "What is that?" You gasped, fearing the worse as you hurried closer.

But you broke down into tears, immediately recognizing Mayhem. Cold, trembling, and most certainly sick in so many ways but alive and home. You'd taken him to the vet's office, a sobbing mess in the waiting room. He'd need surgery for his infected wounds and have to be on antibiotics for a long time but you were just relieved he was home and safe now.

Michael never told you how he found him. You didn't ask, just baked him a pumpkin pie as thanks.

November browns turned to December blues as snow and frost began to make appearances. The first snow day, you'd bundled both yourself and Michael up and dragged him outside to see the falling snow. He wore the mask much less now, often leaving the thing in the corner of the closet, hidden away like a bad memory.

You didn't really understand that. Your best theory was that the mask compelled Michael to kill and now that Halloween had come and gone, he was back to some semblance of normal. He still wore masks from time to time - rustic paper mache ones crafted at your kitchen table on quiet afternoons - but significantly less now. Maybe it was just a Halloween thing and he was relatively normal the rest of the year? You weren't sure. Obviously, you knew better than to push about what happened with his sister but you wondered if the killings were a reenactment of the trauma.

Psychology has always interested you.

It wouldn't surprise you if the great Dr. Loomis neglected to acknowledge that Michael was traumatized, quick to demonize him rather than provide him proper care. That he didn't put together Michael went from a normal boy to suddenly completely nonverbal and monotonous after killing her. It had affected him, even if people didn't want to admit that. Michael himself included.

But wearing the classic mask a little less meant you could slip a cute wool hat on his head and drag him out, mitten-clad hands clasped together as you charged outside. "Come see, come see!"

Michael looked up at the falling snow, squinting against the snowflakes that began to freckle his face. You'd laughed and nudged him. "Try this," you said before opening your mouth and letting the snowflakes fall on your tongue.

He'd given you a bewildered look but tried it. Only because he'd grown so fond of you, you assumed.

Days passed. Mayhem made a full recovery and now spent his days lounging in the winter sun. Sometimes he'd brush against Michael for attention and the man had gotten better at returning it, fingers brushing soft black fur occasionally. It was sweet, you thought, how he'd slowly begun to reintegrate into your life.

When you caught him drawing on looseleaf papers, you decided to get him paints and canvases as an early Christmas present and cleared out your dad's old room to let him have an art studio to paint and work on his masks in private. You'd layed down old newspapers to keep the floor relatively clean when you revealed it to him. He'd spend hours up in there, painting or making masks. You'd helped him hang some up on the wall of the room with little thumbtacks as hooks. He was getting good, you'd thought as you examined a bright orange mask that resembled a jack o' lantern.

Michael didn't show you his paintings very often. That wasn't really the point anyways so you didn't mind. But there had been a few times when he'd leave a dried canvas outside your bedroom door or atop your bed like a cat offering dead animals. Your favorite so far was one of the winter sky painted with fluffy whites and cold blues with your own profile looking up at the sky. The way he painted was streaky, like his hands shook, but it was still beautifully detailed despite the messy lines and bleeding colors.

It was interesting seeing yourself through someone else's eyes translated to art. You'd kept the painting in your room and you'd trace your fingers along the raised streaks of paint, fingers running along the lines of your face. You wondered, fleetingly with bright red cheeks, if he painted you often and just never showed you.

There was a chance. You liked to think he did.

It was around the middle of December as you attempted to get ready for a holiday party. Attempted being the key word. “Michael,” you sighed, adjusting your elf hat. “I told you, I’ll be back later tonight. I’ve left dinner in the fridge and I promise I’ll call when I’m coming home.”

It was nearing Christmas when you'd gotten invited to a holiday party. You were attempting to get ready, dressing up as a cute little elf. Attempting being the key word. "Michael," you sighed, adjusting your stupid looking elf hat, "I told you, I'll be back later tonight. I've left dinner in the fridge and I promise I'll call when I'm coming home."

Michael glared at you behind the accursed Halloween mask. He had a habit of being a bit of a brat and you found it equally annoying as you did endearing. He'd put the mask on when he'd learnt you were leaving but you'd expected that. Whenever he was generally stressed out or upset, you'd find it covering his head. The symbolism there wasn't lost on you but you had more pressing things to worry about then the possible metaphor of Michael masking himself literally and figuratively.

"If you're so upset, why not come with?" You snorted to yourself as you focused on doing your eyes in a dark green with white mascara. "I can do your makeup, dress you in a cute sweater, no one would know it's you. Could be fun, yeah?"

You paused to do your lips in a dark red. Makeup wasn't really your preference but it suited the costume you wore - a dark green tunic with red and white striped knee socks with brown boots. The hat was a matching green and jingled stupidly from the little bell on the end. You'd done your face with a heavy blush and had drawn little white snowflakes in liquid eyeliner. It was cute.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching you had you spinning around. Michael stood directly behind you and tilted his head when you made eye contact. "Wait, are you serious?" You blinked in surprise. You'd gotten good at reading him in the few months you'd spent living together and you could tell he was accepting your offer.

He gave you a blank stare before putting a hand around your neck and squeezing. You noted his tense shoulders and tried to relax. A few months ago, this gesture would have terrified you. Now you knew that it was just his way of expression. A knife and a violent hand was all he could use to convey things so you'd learnt to just roll with it, knowing that his intent wasn't to kill you.

So you didn't panic.

"I'm not making fun!" You insisted, lifting a hand to push lightly at his chest. "I just need to be sure you're actually interested in going. There'll be people there, you know that right?" Silence. "People you can't kill." More silence. "I'm not kidding either, you can't hurt or kill anyone if you come with me." It had been a long time since he'd killed anyone but you could never be totally sure of his motives. He could still be unpredictable from time to time.

Michael let you go and marched towards the dresser. You watched curiously as he fished out a black shirt and black jeans - clothes you'd gotten for him when he couldn't be in the jumpsuit - before offering them with outstretched arms. He gave you a curt nod and you smiled.

He didn't do that often so you knew he was serious.

"Alright then, c'mere big guy," you motioned for him to sit on the bed as you began gathering up makeup supplies. You kept your head turned away as he changed to offer him some semblance of privacy. Growing up in an institution meant he didn't have a lot of shame left but you always felt bad when you thought about that. 

You missed the way his hands shook as he took off the mask, too busy searching for a colored contact for his injured eye. You found a pretty jade green and figured that'd work. Heterochromia was uncommon, not unheard of. Some red eyeshadow for his eyes would help cover up the scar and would also be cute for a Rudolph nose. You collected your supplies and turned to Michael with a wide smile.

That smile fell when you saw him sitting on your bed, dressed up nice as he stared at the mask clutched tightly in his hands. He stared into its face with wide, terrified eyes and that made you freeze. You'd seen that look only once before: when you held each other in the bathroom after you'd saved him from being shot.

"You don't have to go." Your voice was soft and reassuring. He looked up at you slowly and you continued. "I know this isn't something you normally do, but-" Michael blinked slowly as you rambled. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do this for me." The last thing you needed was him snapping and killing people at the party. You'd both be in trouble for that.

But you also wondered if he was unfamiliar with being given choices. You never forced Michael into things he didn't want to do and it was possible he wasn't used to that.

He stared at you for a long time, fingernails digging into latex, before he unclenched long enough for the mask to fall to the floor with a soft crunch. The two of you stared at it for a long time and he blinked rapidly as he stared. You could tell by the clenching and unclenching of his jaw that he was fighting something off.

You wanted to make it easier for him.

So you took a seat beside him and reached for his face with slow hands. His flinch made your heart break and you cooed to him softly. "It's just me," you soothed as you clicked open the container with the contact lens inside. "I'd never hurt you."

Michael relaxed slowly, watching you with something storming in his eyes. You cupped his cheek with one hand and his eyes fluttered briefly. "Have you ever put contacts in?" You asked, smiling warmly at him.

He shook his head once. This was going to be tricky.

It took some time to get the contact in. Neither of you really knew what you were doing and you kept worrying it'd roll back to his brain. But, with your combined efforts, it now sat comfortably in his eye. Pretty green-hazel heterochromatic eyes that you fought to not get lost in. Even with the scarring he looked… normal.

"Should I even ask if you've ever worn makeup?" You teased as you took out the eyeshadow. "I'll be brushing your face and around your eyes. Is that okay?"

Michael blinked slowly, which you took as a yes.

"Stop me if it gets to be too much, okay?" You said softly before dabbing the brush in the dark red and swiping it gently over his lids, relieved it covered the scar pretty well.

You weren't sure how familiar people were with his actual face. When people thought of Michael Myers, did they just see the pale, masked face of the Boogeyman? Or did they see his mugshot, televised on the evening news as they reported his escape and recapture?

When you moved to his next eye, his hand shot out to clench your hip tight. He hated feeling vulnerable. You were the only exception to his no touching rule because you'd proven your loyalty. In exchange, he'd given you protection. But he still disliked giving over control and holding you like a stressball was the only thing he could do to abate his anxiety.

You dusted some red on the tip of his nose and smiled to yourself. "So a few of my friends will be there," you hummed as you added the finishing touches on the raccoon-style eyeshadow you'd given him to hide a lot of the scars. Since he was wearing darker clothes, you reached for the black eyeshadow next with the intent of dusting it around his lids to give him a smokier look. It made him a tad intimidating, black soot that petered out into a dark red. "They'll probably try to talk to you but I'll try and take over. If they ask, we'll say you got in a car accident when you were young and haven't been able to talk since."

He gave your hip a squeeze in confirmation.

You brushed some red on the tip of his nose with a hum. "My friend Leslie is the chattiest so at least we won't have to worry about him. He's always rambling on and on about the horror novel he's writing. To his credit, it's really interesting." You began to brush a heavy blush on his cheeks, chuckling at the way he squinted against the sensation. "It's about some boy who was thrown over a waterfall before rising to take revenge on the town? I think? I mean, he'll certainly tell you all about it. I think he's calling it Behind the Mask or something, I'm not sure."

Michael opened his eyes when you finished with the blush and you froze. He looked good and you couldn't help but stare. Tight fitting shirt, half-lidded eyes decorated in smoky colors, and messy brown curls that you made a note to fluff up before you left. He looked painfully normal and pretty and you wanted to-

You cleared your throat and grabbed the white eyeliner pen. "This'll be colder but try not to move." Gently, you held under his chin to keep him steady as you began to dot little freckles along his cheeks and nose, pausing to draw larger snowflakes at the corners of his eyes. That way you two matched!

When you pulled back, you realized he'd been staring at you.

There were a few times in the time of you knowing Michael that you wondered if he could read minds. If, in order to be the scariest thing possible, he knew exactly what scared someone. But, you reminded yourself, this wasn't some Stephen King novel. Still, it unnerved you to consider he knew what you thought of him privately.

"Oh! I know!" You hopped up and hurried back over to your vanity, grabbing a brown headband decorated with felt horns wrapped in tiny bells. They were painfully cute and you spun to show him.

He squinted at you and you giggled. "Trust me, it'll look super cute." Sliding it atop his head, you finally got to fluff his hair out to disguise the band better. When you stepped back, you gave him a once-over and a smile.

Michael fucking Myers dressed up as a reindeer. Cute little nose, horns, and all.

"You think we should use nicknames to be less suspicious?" You hummed, tilting your head - a habit you'd picked up from him. "I could call you Mike." He glared at you and you smiled with a faux-innocence. "Aw, don't like it?" He glared harder and you laughed. "Well, if they ask for your last name, I'm making something up!"

He got up wordlessly and made his way to your vanity, examining himself in the mirror. As expected, he didn't say anything. But he did touch lightly at his eyes, curious when the powder came off on his fingers. You joined him, looking you both over in the mirror. From the outside, you two looked like any normal young couple heading for a Christmas party.

“Well Mikey,” you said as you grabbed your bag, “Shall we?”

You laughed at the slow, unimpressed blink he gave you.

You were honestly impressed Chrissy managed to get so many people to come. She'd been very popular in high school - a cheerleader who'd dated the quarterback of the football team, well-liked, and clearly still riding that high despite graduating out of high school cliques. Chrissy had been a year above you but had always been one of those girls to try and invite everyone she knew to any events she threw. So you weren't exactly close friends but you'd helped her with a school project once and apparently that was enough for her.

The house was decorated to the nines, lined in little white lights that glistened against the freshly fallen snow. Little reindeer animatronics made of the same lights "grazed" in the front yard and little candy cane lights lined the pathway. It all felt a little magical. A small flurry had picked up when you and Michael got out of the car and made your way up to the front door.

Michael paused to look up at the sky while you rang the doorbell, listening to the melodic chimes ring out inside the house. You swore he almost smiled, his hair dusted in little white flakes when he looked down at you. Your heart seized at the sight and you were struck with the urge to k–

Chrissy opened the door, smiling wide and dressed in an inappropriate Mrs Claus outfit. She surveyed you both and let out a surprised gasp, the corners of her mouth curling in delight. "And who's this hottie?" She whispered at you while giggling like a schoolgirl. "I didn't know you knew any cute guys. No offense." She twirled her hair, shamelessly looking Michael up and down.

Jealousy shot through you like a bolt of lightning. "He's my boyfriend."

"Oh," she seemed almost disappointed, which you tried to brush off. She'd always felt a little entitled towards whomever she determined was the most attractive guy. It was just how she was, even if it pissed you off in the moment. "Well, I'm happy for you!" She spun on her heel and led you both into the house, gesturing for her butler to take your coats. "Feel free to mingle, lovebirds! We've got drinks, food, and our chef made a bunch of cookies."

Michael seemed to notice the lovebirds comment and you flushed, giving a nod and smile to Chrissy while trying to ignore his stare boring into the back of your head. "Thanks. Oh, um, here!" You reached into your bag and held out a small, nicely wrapped gift. "For the Secret Santa."

She lit up and took the box enthusiastically. "Ohmygosh, thank you! I was just going to ask." Chrissy added the box to a nearby table and clasped her hands together excitedly. "Alright, perfect, you're free to go!"

You led the way to the kitchen, dodging a few familiar faces with smiles and waves and promises to return once you'd gotten some food and drinks. Michael held your wrist the whole way there, squeezing harder and harder the more people spoke to you.

The kitchen was huge, white, and perfectly pristine. The maid who cleaned everything always made their house look like an interior design catalog rather than an actual home. A large plate of highly elaborate sugar cookies lay atop the countertop, a large amount already missing with only trails of crumbs indicative of their place there.

You grabbed a candy cane shaped cookie and gestured for Michael to grab one. "I think you'll like these." He just stared at you, eyes widened ever so slightly. "What?" You asked through a mouthful of cookie. His head tilted slightly and you swallowed nervously. "Sorry for the, um, boyfriend comment. It just, uh, it felt like a safe alibi, y'know?"

Michael stared at you, eyes calculating. You prepared a million apologies in your head before he reached for a snowman cookie and bit into it, never breaking eye contact. You weren't sure if that was approval or disapproval so you both just stood there, staring awkwardly at each other and eating sugar cookies. Your fingers drummed anxiously on the cold marble tile of the kitchen counter as you tried to stand your ground.

When he finished his, Michael stepped closer to you and placed a hand at your waist. He leant forward and pressed his lips to your forehead, making you gasp in surprise. It wasn't exactly a kiss but the intent was there and the message was clear. You swallowed when he pulled back and you swore his eyes softened. "Okay, okay, cool," you said quietly, trying - and failing - to hold back your smile.

Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and smirked to yourself about the faint lipstick stain there. You snagged another couple cookies and a glass of cider. His cheeks were a soft pink when you passed him one of the cookies. "Shall we brace the music?" You grinned as you took his arm and led him out the door back into the party.

Everything went perfectly, all things considered. Of course, everyone you knew wanted to meet your new boyfriend. "It's a recent development," you'd say as Michael took a drink to avoid talking. "I met him when my car broke down and we just… hit it off, y'know?" You'd smile as though recounting the memories through your pleasant buzz from the cider.

"How long have you been dating?" You were asked a few times.

"Oh, a month and a half now, I think. It feels like it's been longer." You'd say while Michael chewed on cookies.

It had been, if you thought about when the starting point of your relationship could've been. Maybe not long after he'd gotten sick and you'd cared for him in a way he hadn't had since he was a child. Or maybe after you'd both made a wordless pact to each other while your father lay bleeding on the kitchen floor. Hard to say. But calling him your boyfriend had come so easily that you questioned how long you'd considered him that in your subconscious.

When Chrissy announced her parent's arrival with a few of their friends in tow, you went to greet them without a second thought. You froze in fear when you caught sight of her father: John Kallas. Officer Kallas. A friend of your father's who had been part of the team searching for Michael around Halloween.

You clutched Michael's arm and steered him to a quiet hallway of the house. "Don't let her dad see you," you whisper-yelled. When he tilted his head, you ran a nervous hand through your hair. "He was one of the cops looking for you. He might recognize you."

Michael didn't visibly react but you did notice him clenching his jaw. "I didn't know he'd be here! I hadn't thought of it until I saw him." You sighed, frustrated with your own anxiety rising. "I'm sorry. Do you want to leave?"

He seemed to think it over but you were interrupted by heels clicking on the tile floor. In a panic, you grabbed his wrists and put his hands at your waist. "Act like we were kissing." You whispered as you leant in, bumping your foreheads together.

His head tilted askew slightly and gave you a moment to mess up your lipstick a little. The footsteps came to a halt and you heard a familiar laugh that made all the anxiety in your body melt away in an instant.

Kalei stood with their arms crossed, looking you both over with an amused expression. "So is this the guy you were telling me about back in September?" They laughed at seeing the way you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment.

Michael gave you a quizzical look and you groaned. "Yes, yes, he is." You confessed with an exhausted sigh. "But shh!" You waved a hand at them to try and quiet them.

They didn't back down though. "He would gush about you at work to me all the time," they drawled out, ignoring your flustered protests.

"I didn't-!"

"You better treat him right!" Kalei said, crossing their arms over their chest. "I may not look it but I can pack a serious punch."

Michael blinked slowly before looking back at you. "What do you need, Kalei?" You sputtered, trying to change the topic before your impromptu boyfriend decided to make a scene.

"Oh, the Secret Santa's starting. Came to getcha." They gestured for you both to follow with an impish smile growing on their face. "Better hurry up before people start making assumptions." They teased with a waggle of their eyebrows.

Your face lit up like a torch and you gently pushed Michael away to march down the hall. "N-no, wouldn't want that, yeah." Your voice sounded far away to your own ears, too much blood pounding through your head.

Michael followed on your heels like a loyal dog and you tried to ignore the way that made you feel.

You and Michael took a seat on one of the couches and you held his arm almost possessively, especially when you noticed some of the other girls at the party kept looking at him with bashful faces. It pissed you off just how shameless they were even when they knew he was dating you. Was it that hard for people to believe?

The absence of John Kallas made you think that he and his buddies had gone into one of the other rooms. Which put your mind at ease, at least a little.

The Secret Santa was relatively uneventful. You clapped politely as people opened their gifts and were surprised when Chrissy handed you your gift from her. A book on growing vegetables with a tab already inside on a picture of a tomato plant. "You think I should grow tomatoes?" You gave her an amused smile.

"Well, duh! It, like, suits your whole vibe, y'know? I'm surprised you don't grow more vegetables." Chrissy had nudged you gently as you began leafing through the rest of the book, skimming the words as Michael watched over your shoulder.

As it finally came time to leave, you were saying your goodbyes to Chrissy when you spotted Officer Kallas leaving the kitchen. You pulled Michael out of there quickly, hoping that the stumble the officer gave was simply him tripping and not because he'd seen The Boogeyman as your date to his daughter's party.

Your walk back to the car was brisk and silent. White snow was like stars as it fell overhead before coming to rest on your shoulders and the ground below. "Thank you for coming," you said, reaching over to squeeze Michael's hand. "It was nice having you there."

Before you could pull your hand away completely, he gave you a squeeze of his own before climbing into the passenger seat.

Oh, you thought to yourself. Oh.

For Christmas, you'd gotten Michael a drum set.

It had been an impulsive buy, a decision you had made while walking past a thrift store and noticing a decently priced set on display in the window.

He enjoyed doing things with his hands - be it painting, making masks, or, most recently, helping you decorate Christmas cookies. So you figured he'd get a kick out of drumming. You lived far out enough that he could afford to be loud without worrying about waking the neighbors up and you had a detached garage he could play in. Maybe when the weather got warmer, he'd move outside.

And it might help him to let energy out. You'd caught him giving death glares to random postmen who came to your door and he'd already begun the habit of wearing the accursed Halloween mask around the house again. So you didn't want him to get bored.

“Here,” you said as you passed him the drumsticks. He examined them curiously and you gestured to the drums. When he gave you an empty stare, you took one of the stucks and whacked on the cymbals. That made Michael’s eyes widen and he moved around to take a seat. “You can be as loud as you want with them. No one’ll hear soooo… go crazy!”

Michael took the stick back and held them both in hesitant hands. With a few bangs that seemed exploratory coupled with getting the hang of pressing his foot to make a lower noise, he seemed to catch on pretty quick. His banging grew in speed and volume as he gained confidence and you laughed, covering your ears when the sound echoed off the walls of the small space. "You got it!" You called over the crashing cymbals.

A loud bang signified the end of his "song" and he stared at you with wide, crazy eyes, panting heavily. "Fun, right?" You smiled at him. "They're all yours so you're free to come play them whenever you want."

His lips curled into an almost feral smile that made you smile back. You'd never seen him smile before, much less like that.

Over the next few days, Michael continued sneaking – literally sneaking, like he'd be in trouble if you spotted him – into the garage to play the drums. His disorganized, chaotic banging was slowly starting to take form. Organized chaos, you smiled to yourself. The loud sounds and movements gave Michael a chance to express himself with noise which was quite the contrast to his usual quiet self.. You also found it exceptionally cute when he'd go play and come back inside hours later with his wild brown curls disheveled and a crazed grin on his face.

It had been unsettling at first seeing him smile the way he did but now it just made your heart seize. His fingers would drum on things to a tune you couldn't hear and he was painfully human now, relaxed around you and genuinely happy, from what you could tell.

So you made a mixtape for him that focused on heavy drum sounds, steady but loud beats the way he liked. At first he didn't seem too interested in it but you'd since caught him listening to it a few times, eyes closed and posture relaxed. Music wasn't something Michael had a lot of exposure to so you had fun introducing him to various bands and musicians.

Metal music seemed to be his preference, which made a lot of sense.

It was New Years when things really changed.

You and Michael had the television on with the channel turned to watch the ball drop. It wasn’t typically a tradition you cared about but you could tell your housemate was intrigued. He’d been upstairs painting for most of the day while you cleaned the house up a bit. "Spring cleaning," you said to Michael as he watched you from the kitchen. "Cleaning makes me happy. It's nice to get everything back in order after the holidays. 'sides, it's still too cold out for gardening."

Michael tilted his head but retreated back upstairs with his water jar for his paints.

Once the sun set, you made hot chocolate and ordered pizza. Michael preferred just plain cheese but you’d gotten yours with olives - something Michael always gave you looks for. "Don't knock it 'till ya try it," you'd snickered through a mouthful of pizza.

His brow furrowed in distaste as he took a bite of his own pizza.

It was cute. He had a lot of personality once you knew where to look. And he’d clearly gotten very comfortable with you during the time you’d been living together. It felt like a great honor to get to see Michael Myers do something as mundane as eat pizza in lounge clothes.

The two of you watched cartoons for a few hours until 11:57 hit. You flicked to the news channel and let your head loll to the side and rest against the back of the couch. "It's not the most exciting thing in the world," you said as you glanced at Michael, "But it's fun. It's nice to see everyone around the world get together for something like this."

Michael had just stared at the television with a slight tilt to his head. 11:59 struck and you felt your throat tighten as an idea came to mind. You recalled a conversation you'd had with Chrissy a couple years back where she'd told you about her favorite New Years tradition.

50 seconds…

It couldn't hurt to ask, right?

45…

“Hey, Michael?” Your voice was barely a whisper. You kept your eyes trained on the TV even when you felt his eyes on you.

40…

Swallowing was a challenge for you. “There’s, um, a kind of New Years tradition. That, um, it means-”

30…

“-you’ll have good luck for the rest of the year.” Your words were slow and methodical. It felt like you had to really sell him on the idea, even if you were afraid to tell him what it was. You weren't even sure you wanted to admit to yourself how badly you wanted to-

25…

“Want to do it?”

Michael just stared blankly at you. His eyes darted between yours, calculating. It made you feel flayed open despite the fact you were pretty sure he didn't know what you were talking about.

20…

He gave you a single nod. You quickly darted your tongue out to wet your lips. Now or never, you sighed internally.

“Trust me,” you said more than asked. His eyes widened slightly but he didn't pull away. You knew he trusted you and all you could do was hope he didn't react poorly.

15…

You swallowed around the heavy lump in your throat and tried to not look too worried. If he got the impression it was something bad, you may lose your chance. Lifting a gentle hand, you let your fingertips graze his cheek before slowly settling to cup his face properly.

It was like you could hear the sound of your own heart pounding even over the cheering on the television.

10…

"This okay?

9…

Michael's eyes softened and he gave a slight nod, as though worried he'd dislodge you entirely.

8…

You scooted closer, the both of you adjusting so you were sat facing each other, opposite shoulders brushing the back of the couch. He sat perfectly cross-legged while one of your legs braced against the floor.

7…

Slowly, you reached over with your free hand to tangle your fingers together in a loose hold.

6…

His eyes widened more and his lips parted. A look of realization flashed in his eyes and for a moment you worried you'd overstepped.

5…

"Still okay?"

4…

Michael gave a small nod again, eyes darting all over your face as he searched for…something. You weren't sure.

3…

2…

1…

You leant forward and pressed your lips together in a sweet kiss. The sounds of cheering that came from the television felt far away and underwater. Every sense in your body was focused on Michael - the warmth of his hand, the residual taste of hot chocolate on his lips, and the soft intake of breath you heard when your lips met.

It felt like the cheering was for you two.

At first, Michael didn't seem sure what to do with himself. With some gentle guidance, you tilted his head to the side to let him lean into the kiss better. He was clearly trying, so you scooted closer and let him set his hands on your hips to lift you into his lap without breaking the kiss.

When you parted to catch your breaths, Michael was staring at you with half-lidded, glassy eyes. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest

You pulled him back in, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him in place. His arms wrapped around your waist and you sunk into his hold. Being with him felt warm and safe.

So yeah. Things changed on New Years. But neither of you were complaining.

The snow finally began to clear up, being replaced smoothly by sleet and rain. It was honestly far more preferable to you, since it made walks in the forest more enjoyable. You'd always preferred the rain.

It had been a few weeks since the New Years and you and Michael were in some type of relationship. The word "dating" had come to mind but it wasn't really accurate. It was more than dating. You were partners in crime - literally and figuratively - as well as good friends, housemates, close confidants, and, more importantly, you saw each other. Really and truly. You'd both picked up on the others wordless sentences and slight shifts in your bodies were like loud declarations. Sure, you two held hands and he let you touch him more but that wasn't what was important to you.

Michael smiled more. He'd watch you with soft, sleepy eyes, stopped tensing whenever you cut his hair, and you'd caught him dozing off on the couch a few times.

You internally cursed Dr. Loomis for tormenting this man for so, so many years. Embodiment of evil your ass, he was so obviously desperate for love and care that he'd practically thrown himself at you as soon as you'd proven you would love him no matter what. He was more than the traumas he felt compelled to reenact. He was so, so much more and you loved every part of him.

Today, you needed to run down to the store to grab a few things. The rain had finally let up enough that you felt comfortable driving. "Michael? I'll be back around 5:30, alright?" You called into the house as you fastened your shoes.

Ever since the Christmas party, he'd gotten better about you leaving the house for short periods of time. So long as you promised to come back, that is. If you didn't, you knew he'd hunt you down with a knife and a bloodstained jumpsuit. Of that, you had no doubt.

Michael appeared in the doorway of the kitchen staring at you. You shot him a grin and grabbed your bags. "Be back soon!" You called over your shoulder as you ventured outside.

Looking back on it, you wished you'd stayed home…

You were examining a box of cereal for dents when someone approached you. "Hey," Chrissy's voice came from behind you. When you turned, she looked tense with her arms around herself and her smile was tight. Forced. Alarm bells began ringing in your head but you smiled back.

"Hey, Chrissy. Uh, you okay?"

"How's your boyfriend? What was his name, um, Michael, right?" She looked like she'd be sick and you felt white-hot adrenaline shoot through you like a bolt of lightning. "He, um, is he around?"

You swallowed, keeping your movements slow and casual. If you cracked, then she'd know. So you made a show of putting the cereal box into your cart and took the chance to look around. The aisle was empty but you caught the sign of movement near the end. Blue police uniforms, likely Chrissy's dad and his partner.

"No, he's traveling." You gave Chrissy an exhausted smile. "Y'know I'm not gonna pass your number along, right?"

She looked pale but her smile got wider and she took a small step back, like you terrified her. "Did, um, did someone die?" Her fake pout made you want to punch her in the face. Her faux sympathy oozed from her tone and you couldn't help the way your eye twitched. "Maybe his sister-?"

You froze in place. She knew. You don't know how she found out but there was no doubt she knew. Why the hell Officer Kallas had waited so long to act, let alone use his daughter as bait, was beyond you. Had he seen pictures from the party and asked Chrissy to identify him? Had he compared it to his mugshot? The thought of that made you irrationally angry.

"His dad is sick." You grit out through clenched teeth.

"You're sick," Chrissy shot back like a viper. "You've been sleeping with the fucking Boogeyman! You brought him to my house, oh my god, what if he killed-!" She choked back a sob, having the audacity to look betrayed.

Like a Barbie doll with mascara tears.

Enough was enough. You spun on your heel and marched away from a sobbing Chrissy like a man on a mission. You heard Officer Kallas call your name and you took a steadying breath before spinning, swinging the metal cart full of boxes and cans behind you and watching the two officers stumble and trip. Chrissy shrieked in fear and you took off towards the sliding glass doors. The crackle of a walkie talkie behind you was loud, too loud for you to make out any words being said. Everything in you was hyperfocused on running.

You heard heavy footsteps hot on your heel and you wished, momentarily, that you had a weapon of your own.

All you had to do was get to your car, the little piece of junk like an oasis in a hot desert. All you had to do was get in and you could get away, get to a phone booth and call Michael. Tell him to get Mayhem, pack bags, and get out. You'd promise you'd pick him up. Something. Anything.

But you’d never get the chance. 

The officer tailing grabbed you around your middle and lifted you up like a bratty child hauling a cat around. “Put me down!” You shrieked and began to slam your fists on his arms.

"You're under arrest for disrupting justice, harboring a criminal, and assaulting an officer," his robotic words fell on deaf ears as you continued to fight for your life. Cornered animals bit and he was finding that out the hard way as you twisted to claw at his face.

But he easily overpowered you, shoving you into the backseat of his police cruiser and slamming the door. Tears began to fall down your face as you began to panic. Michael wouldn't know they were coming. They surely knew to check your house. They'd catch him there and then what? Would they kill him? Shoot to kill, like you remembered hearing on the radio all those months ago?

You felt like throwing up. All you could do was curl up on the leather seats and sob your heart out.

All you could do was hope he'd be okay.

Dr. Samuel Loomis considered himself a brilliant man.

He was assigned to Michael Myers' case when the young boy had first been admitted to Smith's Grove when he'd just been a young, non-speaking child. His mother had brought him in, her eyes red rimmed and pleading to help her son.

And Dr. Loomis always loved a challenge case. Every 'difficult' patient he ever had while working in this institution had eventually cracked under his methods. So he studied Michael, subjecting him to various medications, talk therapy, and tried everything to trigger any kind of response out of him. At first, Michael seemed to truly want to be helped. His mother visited every week and talked with him about home, about his life after the institution.

Michael took well to art therapy, much to Loomis' frustrations - he had strongly advised against giving the young boy access to making masks - and he started to make progress in sorting through what happened to him.

Then his parents died. It was like everything in Michael shut down after that. Walls were built up high and became impenetrable the longer Dr Loomis poked and prodded for a reaction. 

Years went by and no more progress was made. It was like talking to a brick wall. A brick wall with eyes like the devil, as far as Loomis was concerned. There was no way a child could commit such atrocities without an ounce of guilt, no confession of sin. He'd advocated strongly against Michael being released on parole, insisting he was soulless and dangerous.

So Halloween came and Michael escaped, killing teenagers and reenacting the horrors he'd committed to his sister fifteen years ago. And now he had escaped yet again. This time was different though - Michael had gone missing for several months now. Too long had passed without any new murders and Loomis was becoming anxious and impatient. Police had let the case go, grateful at the idea Michael moved on to terrorize a new town.

But Dr. Loomis knew Michael Myers all too well.

He stood in his dimly lit office, watching a police car drive up through the large open window. Watching you get unloaded from the car and observing the way you fought so viciously, Loomis felt like he hit the jackpot. It was no wonder Michael was so obsessed with you. There was a darkness to you that had yet to grow anywhere. Surely he was just biding his time, playing house with you while he waited for you to snap and join him in his killing sprees.

He couldn't have that though. Michael had to be returned to Smith's Grove before he caused any more devastation.

“Doctor?” Officer Kallas’s voice broke the psychologist from his stupor.

“Come in.” He turned, looking over his shoulder and smiling when he lay eyes on you.

There you were. In handcuffs with tear tracks on your face. Your lip was split from where you'd nicked it while trying to bite Officer Kallas. “We apprehended him like you asked. We’ll head to the house to retrieve-”

“Don’t,” Loomis held up his hand to still the room. “No. We’ve got all we need right here.” He approached you slowly, like you were something to behold. You felt slimy under his fascinated stare. “Michael will come looking for him. Then we’ll catch him. We can’t give him any home-turf advantages.”

Officer Kallas nodded and shoved you forward into the room before closing the door behind him. You felt like a muzzled dog, glaring down the doctor with such hate that it reminded him of Michael.

Dr Loomis took a seat at his desk. “Tell me,” he hummed, “What was it like being held captive by Michael?” You looked at him, brow furrowed. Held captive? Was that the narrative they were running with? He seemed to misinterpret your confusion and gave you a sympathetic smile. “I know you were held by him for quite some time. Your friend Chrissy told her father about it. You were seen-”

“I wasn't a prisoner.” You spat, almost offended.

“So you were simply afraid.” The doctor clicked his pen, beginning to write something down. His scribbling felt grating on your nerves and you felt the urge to strangle the man, cuffs be damned.

But you just glared at him instead. “What is this, an interrogation?”

Dr. Loomis lifted his head and you could see the arrogance in his eyes. “I’ve studied Michael for sixteen years,” he said slowly, “And I’ve never seen him so fascinated by another human being.”

“Maybe you’re just shitty at your job.” You scoffed.

If you weren't already glaring daggers, you would have missed the disapproving look Loomis gave you. "In good time, my theory will be proven." He gave you a smile and gestured to one of the chairs sat in front of his desk. "Michael will come for you. And when he does, I will finally rid the world of that potent evil." He said with a menacing, teeth-filled smile.

You wish you’d stayed home.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Y'know, if Lila was just a one-off character for Volpina and we never saw her again, a few tweaks in that episodes writing could have made it a good lesson about not letting your temper get the best of you, even in a situation where your anger is justified

This is in reference to the post where I discussed how terrible Volpina's lesson is and I agree with the proposed change. If Marinette has to be in the wrong here, that's the only way to make it kind of work. In fact, this is what I thought the episode was trying to do on my first watch. When the next season started with Lila gone, I thought, "Okay, so that episode was supposed to be about being the better person and having a more measured response when you've been wronged. I don't think it did that lesson super well, but I can see what they were going for and we'll give them some grace. Definitely one that I wouldn't just give to a kid, though. Way too high a risk of them internalizing a very wrong message."

I only gave the writers that grace because I assumed that Ladybug had truly humiliated Lila out of Paris off screen (remember, we only see Ladybug out Lila to Adrien even though Lila was lying to everyone) and that is a pretty extreme punishment for a teenager making a dumb choice. Even then, saying that Ladybug was in the wrong feels a little too victim blame-y for my tastes. Lila was the one telling the lies and using Ladybug's name for clout on a city-wide scale or possibly even a national/international scale depending on the Ladyblog's viewership. By telling those lies, Lila was harming Alya's credibility and presenting herself as a sort of authority on Ladybug, a position that she was going to use to her advantage as we saw with her manipulating Adrien. She was also putting herself at risk if Gabriel or other villains believed the lies and saw her as a way to get to Ladybug.

That means that the lies Lila told aren't exactly minor, victimless crimes like the lies Marinette and Adrien tell to hide their identities. Lilia's lies needed to be outed on the same scale that they were broadcast and there's no kind way to do that. It's going to have a brutal edge no matter how pretty the words are.

There are times when it's right to be "the better person" and let a thing go, but it's hard to view this as one of them because this was not a nuanced situation. There was no reasonable option other than issuing a public retraction and Ladybug didn't even go that far! She had a single, private confrontation with Lila and then let the matter rest. A better version of this episode might see Alya and Marinette giving a really mean retraction on the Ladyblog that they then feel bad about because they should have been more professional, but that's about it as far as possible improvements go.

If we look at what the episode actually gave us, it feels like another Gamer situation. An episode that blames Marinette for impure motivations while ignoring anyone else's faults, creating a nonsense moral that just makes me mad. Ladybug-is-wrong-for-confronting-the-liar-for-impure-reasons is certainly a take. It's just not one that I'm ever going to agree with. To give a recent, real-world example, do people really feel that James Somerton was the wronged party because his many, many lies and instances of plagiarism were outed in a brutal public takedown? (Context part 1 & part 2, though part 2 is the one to watch if you only want to see why letting lies from respected sources go unchecked can be so messy.)

To be clear, I don't think that Lila's lies were Somerton bad in Volpina, but they were starting to go down that road and they arguably reached Somerton levels by season five. Fakes identities, almost getting Marinette expelled, using her lies to get social power from Gabriel, the list goes on, which is yet another reason to hate Volpina. Its nonsense moral is a big part of why Lila could do all of that. Ladybug should have outed Lila! Society suffered and will continue to suffer because she didn't. That's why you have to stop misinformation as soon as you possibly can, but that wasn't actually the moral of Volpina. The moral was that Ladybug was in the wrong for being mean to the liar. Maybe if she'd been nicer, then Lila wouldn't be so evil now which is a very gross moral! Volpina really does feel even more victim blame-y now that Lila is the new big bad.

That's a good segue to circle back and finish off my original topic: I gave the writers grace for Volpina until Lila returned and established that she'd never been publicly outed. At that point, Volpina lost any chance at me giving it charity. The lesson was worse than I thought and I was fully justified in hating it. It's one of the ones I use when I explain why I wouldn't want a child getting into Miraculous because the problem with Volpina's moral is pretty straightforward.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

this is not a request or anything, you write what You want, but this idea entered my brain and i need to put it Somewhere so your inbox it is. dimension swap crossover between canon dbd and your msi au where something causes the two charleses to swap places

Oh, this would be fun!

MSI!Charles would be immediately 1000x more protective over an Edwin that didn't survive his ordeal and died at 16. I think there would be a bit of a learning curve with them adjusting to a Charles who is older (physically speaking) than canon!Edwin.

That being said, I can see Edwin being very flustered over an older Charles who wears a suit and maybe has a bit of stubble. Though since MSI!Charles isn't a ghost, he'd probably miss being touched by his own Charles.

On an angstier note, I imagine it would cause canon!Edwin a lot of uncertainty to realize that there's a universe out there where Charles survived his hypothermia and internal bleeding. Could his Charles have been saved? Had Edwin not been there, would Charles eventually have left the attic to get help? Did Edwin accidentally kill him with his act of kindness?

The Night Nurse would be very weirded out to be confronted with a Charles who suddenly respects her and doesn't refer to her as "Charlie." He does slip up and call her "Nursie" once and she feels like they're back on solid ground.

I think canon!Charles would be bewildered by the MSI. What do you mean, he and Edwin work for a secret sort-of government agency now? And what do you mean the Night Nurse is their boss? He has to wear a bloody suit to work? Why the fuck are Brad and Hunter his coworkers? Shouldn't they be in America? Or in Hell?

Also, why is twentysomething Edwin so fit? Why are his shoulders so broad? When the fuck did that happen?

I can see MSI!Edwin being charmed and exasperated by a perpetually 16-year-old Charles prone to throwing himself into danger with even more frequency and enthusiasm than his own Charles, as well as being horrified that there's a universe out there where his best friend died so young.

Canon!Charles would have feelings about the fact that in the MSI universe, Edwin has been sporadically hooking up with Thomas for years. If he finds out about the supply closet rendezvous, he might go hunting Thomas down with his cricket bat.

MSI!Crystal and Niko are delighted to watch a skinny teenage Charles following their Edwin around like a bodyguard. Niko doesn't know why this Charles hugged her for like 10 minutes when he first met her, but she thought it was sweet.

If both Charleses and both Edwins are briefly in the same universe, I can see the Edwins squabbling over who had it worse. "I spent seventy-three years in Hell." "Well, I spent ninety-five years someplace just as bad." "I *died*." "Charles drags me to office cocktail hours every month." The Charleses step back and let it happen.

First reason this could never actually happen in the MSI universe: canon!Edwin, with the benefit of having been studying the supernatural for decades more than MSI!Edwin and being an actual supernatural creature, could probably figure out what had kidnapped MSI!Edwin and how to stop it with an afternoon of research.

Reason #2: Not sure which, if either, of the Payneland pairings would have gotten together yet, but I can totally see one of the Charleses looking at the other Charles, thinking, "Huh, I think he's in love with his Edwin" and then getting slapped in the face with one hell of a realization.

For anyone wondering what the MSI is:

[reallychaoticwoo]

Hi, babe!!!! I just accidentally hit my head really hard and I need some comfort. So could you please write something for a non idol! Reader with some kind of injury? I’m feeling better now, but I still need something to get me going. Love you💕💕

⛓️Hello babes! So this may have been slightly self-indulgent as your girl is in SERIOUS need of some physical affection lol but i do really hope you enjoy it!⛓️

✨️Peace of mind✨️

❤️Pairing: San x reader

⚠️Warnings: cussing, some suggestiveness🖤

This is truly a fluff fest, and I am absolutely NOT sorry.

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idol in any way‼️

🖤This was not proofread, so I apologize for any typos or weird mistakes 😅 Hope you enjoy!🖤

You didn't plan on injuring yourself today, I mean, does anyone ever really plan on it? You'd been rushing to get your things together, eager to head home and get out of your uncomfortable office attire. Bending down to grab your laptop bag and purse your head collided with the corner of your desk. Your vision blacking out for a quick moment and a sharp pain shooting through your head, you let out a groan. "Fuck.." Your hand finding it's way to your forehead to apply pressure to the aching area. Sitting back in your chair hand still holding your head you heard a knock at the door. "Come in." San opened the door, leaning himself against the frame. "Hey I was just coming to see if you.... shit, are you okay?" The casual stance he had disappeared as he made his way to your desk. Pulling your hand away from your head his eyes widened. "You're bleeding y/n. What happened?" Concern written all over his face, he headed to bookshelf in the corner of your office where the first aid kit was. "I'm okay.." You started looking at your blood covered hand that had been resting on your head. "I was just trying to pack up and I hit my head on the desk when I went to grab my bags." He let out a small chuckle, internally scolding himself for laughing at your clumsiness. "Yup, that sounds like something you'd do." He sat on your desk facing you, pulling your hand into his to wipe away the blood with a small antibacterial wipe he'd gotten from your first aid kit. "So what were you coming in to ask me before you stopped to play nurse?" You asked, nuding his knee with your free hand, a cute little smirk resting on your face.

The two of you had a bit of a back and forth going at the office. Passing flirty winks back and forth in the hallways, randomly showing up at each other's offices with any and every excuse in the book as to why. Neither of you had actually made a move to further things, though. Part of you wondered why, but another part of you figured it was because the both of you knew dating in the workplace, you get really messy really quick. Either way, you always caught yourself wishing things could be more.

"Well, I was going to see if you had plans tonight. But considering you just tried to put yourself into a coma, I don't think now would be the best time for a date." As if it was the most casual sentence in the world, he leaned forward to wipe the blood from your forehead and face, with nothing but a concentrated look painting his own. "I wouldn't say no if you asked." You looked up at him, a glimer of relief and excitement passing through your wide eyes. He chuckled knowingly. "Oh, I know. Don't think I haven't been wanting to ask you out for a while now. I just didn't want things to get weird if I did, but I think it's pretty obvious we'd both like to see where this could go." You giggled at the truth he just admitted so bluntly. There was no arguing that you were dying to see what things would be like if you both just allowed yourselves to be honest with your emotions towards each other.

"So, how about instead of going out like I was originally planning, we stay in and you let me take care of you and that injured little head of yours?" Playfully nudging your chin with his thumb, he looked at you with warmth in his eyes and a shinning smile spreading across his lower face. You couldn't help but return the cheesy grin up in his direction. "That sounds even better, honestly. No loud noises or bright lights. And most importantly, no feeling the need to wear uncomfortable clothes to look pretty." He tsked, a fake pout spread across his features. "You wouldn't want to dress up and go on a nice date with me??" He crossed him, arms feigning disappointment. "Right now? No. I want nothing more than some comfy sweats and to get out of these harsh lights." Your head really was throbbing. As much as his banter improved your mood, your eyes had been squinted the whole time, and you were ready to go anywhere that was quite and dimly lit. His muffled laughter catching your attention, he offered you his hand to help you up. He made sure to grab your bags so you wouldn't have to bend down again and risk another blow to your already aching head. "Okay, okay, princess, my place work for you? I've got plenty of comfy sweats, you can pick whichever ones you want." Walking out of your office, your face resembled that of a high school girl getting a text from her crush. You were smiling, blushing, internally screaming, and giggling. I mean, who wouldn't feel that way when the hottest man to ever grace this planet was taking you home to comfort you and make sure you still got a little date out of it. Honestly, the fact you knew without a doubt he'd have no expectations from you made you weak in the knees. Just a genuinely caring man who wants to make sure you are feeling okay because you hit your head. You weren't sure the exact moment the gods started blessing you, but you were mentally thanking them the entire walk to his car.

The car ride was rather nice. His hand resting on your thigh, the two of you talking about everything and nothing. When you finally reached his house, he quickly opened your door, offering you his hand to help you to your feet. Outside his house was simple but beautiful. He had a wrap around porch with a black metal bench swing, stringed light bulbs lining the edge of the covering, and a sitting area with two large wicker chairs and a small table. His yard was well maintained with beautiful flowers and greenery placed perfectly throughout. You were admiring the simplicity and homey feel as he ushered you up the front steps and through his front door. The inside of his home was equally as inviting, sleek, and modern, with carefully placed decor, highlighting the various spacious rooms. Gesturing you to follow him, the two of you moved to his living room. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna go grab you some headache meds and water really quick. I'll be right back." You smiled in his direction, nodding at him in a silent thank you. Sitting on the couch, you took a look around the living room. A large marble fireplace in front of you with a large TV mounted to the wall above it. The mantle was decorated with a few vining plants and pictures of who you assumed were his brothers or really close friends. You smiled to yourself at how many goofy and well taken photos he'd proudly displayed. He quickly made his way back to the living room with meds and water in hand. "Here, take these. I'm going to go change really quick, and then you can pick out your pj's for the night." With a warm smile and a gentle kiss to the forehead, he made his way down the hall and to his room.

It was only a few minutes before San was back by your side. "Alright, gorgeous, let's get you into some comfier clothes." He bent down, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to his bedroom before sitting you gently on his bed. Opening his closet, he motioned his hand to the large selection of sweats as if to say 'take your pick'. Your eyes lit up at the grandiose selection, a delighted smile on your face. Picking out a plain black set, he brought the clothing to the bed and laid it down next to you neatly. "You can change in here. I'll wait in the living room. You have any movie requests? I can order some pizza, if that sounds good to you." You chuckled at how considerate he was. If you were being honest you'd expected him to be a total fuck boy. The flirting at the office and his perfectly styled appearance just screamed 'I'll take your chick and fuck her in front of you'. Yet, even if there was some truth to that, he was actually turning out to be a real gentleman. "You pick the movie, I can never make a decision and my head hurts too much to even try right now. And pizza sounds great, thank you." With a quick nod, he was leaving the room to let you change. Alone in his room, sitting on his bed, you felt a sense of home. His bed was plush and comfortable. You had to fight yourself to get up and change, deciding it'd probably be off putting if he found you curled up under his sheets fast asleep when you never came back.

Walking back you to the living room, you stopped at the entryway, smiling to yourself at the sight before you. San had set up the perfect at home date night. A makeshift pallet full of blankets on the floor, several pillows leaning against the couch, candles flickering on the mantle and end tables. Pizza was sitting on the coffee table, which was pushed off to the side, sitting next to one of the end tables. He'd turned the lights off to make sure the brightness wouldn't cause your headache to worsen and had a movie already pulled up and ready. Thanking the gods for the nth time today, you walked into the living room, taking your place beside San. Handing you your plate, he pressed play on the movie before grabbing his own plate. Both eating now, you looked to the screen, a familiar movie playing. A movie you'd watched many times, usually when you were alone and sad, sobbing into your pillow at the when you heard the line "if you're a bird, I'm a bird." You should've guessed by this point he'd be the type of guy to enjoy romantic movies. What you didn't guess was that he picked this movie so he could see how you reacted. He wanted to see what made you laugh, what made you cry, and what made your eyes shine with want. He wanted to get to know you better and more than just small talk and casual flirting.

Finishing your food, he took your plates and set them on the coffee table. He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, placing an attentive kiss to the top of your head. Leaning into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder, a content smile grew across your face. Although your headache seemed to be dissipating, the events of the day seemed to be catching up with you. Your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Noticing how your body seemed to grow more relaxed, San wrapped his arms around you and carefully moved the two of into a laying position. In the half awake/ half asleep haze, you softly muttered, "This is perfect. Thank you, Sannie." Your eyes never opening, you nuzzled further into him, your head now rest on his chest, your leg laid across his thighs. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair and the steady beating of his heart lulling you into the most traquil night of sleep you've had in years. A soft kiss to your forehead and then to the top of your head, San allowed himself to succumb to his own tiredness, truly at ease with you in his arms.

[nikkento-writes]

Hi everyone! In celebration of the end of summer, I'm challenging myself to write a few different one-shots inspired by songs that I've personally had on repeat all summer. All of these works will contain smut, so please note the content warnings prior to reading and minors do not interact. Hope you enjoy!

Toro! Toro! by Remi Wolf [Aoi Todo x f!reader] Breaking news! International up-and-coming pop princess Luna Lux is causing quite the stir with her alleged boyfriend! Witnesses say the two were having loud sex well into the night until hotel staff had to take matters into their own hands. But who is this mystery fellow? Despite multiple accounts of being heard doing the deed behind closed doors, the pop star’s supposed boy toy continues to elude being seen by both the media and even her own manager! With his knack for disappearing into thin air, it sounds like this stud is a real sorcerer!

Too Sweet by Hozier [Kishibe x f!reader] (coming soon) When Kishibe's apartment gets flooded by a burst pipe, his underling from work, always eager to curry favor with the senior Devil Hunter, suggests he stays with you, the older sister, completely free of charge and without warning. Now, you're forced to temporarily live with the curmudgeon Devil Hunter who always comes home late, reeking of booze and women's perfume. Kishibe also has a hard time adjusting to living with a roommate, especially one as virtuous and wholesome as you. He soon finds out firsthand just how sweet you can be.

guess by charli xcx [Toji Fushiguro x f!reader] (coming soon) Your next-door neighbor is a pervert. You had your suspicions already with so many of your panties mysteriously missing every time you hang them on the clothesline of your balcony. Now you're absolutely certain since you caught him red-handed, literally, with your favorite red lacey lingerie bunched in his fist. Sure, maybe you kinda sorta wanted him to steal them, but still. He needs to be punished.

Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae [Takuma Ino x f!reader] (coming soon) Ever since you were kids, your older brother's best friend has always been dependable; that's just one of the many reasons why you have the fattest crush on him. You'll never confess to him though, convinced that your love is unrequited. When he offers to give you a ride home from university, the car breaks down halfway into the trip, leaving the two of you stuck until the tow truck arrives in over an hour. In the backseat of his car, Ino surprises you by showing that your unrequited love isn't that at all.

Check by Flo [Nanami Kento x f!reader] (coming soon) After nearly six months of dating, you finally feel confident enough to tell your friends about the new guy you're seeing. Of course, given your track record, they're skeptical. They have no problem listing the number of duds you've unfortunately fallen for in the past and you try to dispel their worries to no avail. Now, with doubts planted in your head, convinced this is all too good to be true, you go home to your boyfriend, distraught. However, like the amazing man you know he is, Nanami reassures you that there's absolutely nothing you need to worry about.

[writingcold]

Chapter Eight - Internal flaws and internal conflicts will lead the way

Content Warnings:  I need to put this here - this is a work of fiction. There will be imagery of violence, character deaths, inequities, poverty, heavy angst, and adult sexual situations throughout the story. Please read at your own discretion. All characters are fictional, though some of the big events that are shown are historical, but may not be historically accurate. 

Thank you to @edgingthedarkness for all of her help as my all mighty beta for this fiction. She listened to me drone on and on about it for months on end. She really took a bullet for this one! She created the banner for this story as well! Also thank you to @katuschka for her amazing skills in bringing our hero Jakub to life. Divider art by @ firefly-graphics.

The Dead

Jake X Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight word count: approximately 6000 words

Warnings in this part: Sibling arguing, feelings of self doubt, grief.

Chapter 8.1: Swansong in the Graveyard

     “Spill it,” Owen said as he stared directly into his phone.

      Fighting the urge to laugh, I found distraction in yanking the pan of eggs from the stove before they burned. “Spill what?”

      “Gran says that you’re still in Frankenmuth.”

      I nodded as I plated up my breakfast. “So?”

     “I don’t know when the last time you were in a single place that long just to do research,” he jabbed. “If you wanted a dude in lederhosen, I could’ve flown you here to-”

     I grumbled, bobbling my plate and coffee to the table away from the phone. “It’s just more than I planned on. That’s all.”

     “Still not talking about the story is what is bothering me,” he admitted, turning back to the screen just as I returned to grab my phone from the counter. “Typically you’re done with research and writing by now. How interesting can that touristscape be?”

      I rolled my eyes and moved the topic away from me but it boomeranged back within minutes.

     “What about that literacy bit you have - isn’t that coming up?” 

     Eating slowly, I explained how the conference would traverse across three days and many state-based authors and educators of all levels teaming up for more impactful and meaningful methods of catching the interest of kids and adults …

      “Stop,” he growled as I finally hit the bored button. A twinkle in his eye caught me off guard as he leaned in close. “You gonna take the cute pilot to the conference?”

     I blinked. I blinked again as my brother’s grin grew smug. “Pardon?”

     “The pilot? Maybe he can fly you two out and then-”

     “Owen,” I tried to break in, but he continued to ramble. He spoke unabashedly. “Owen, please.”

     “Come on, Y/n,” he jabbed. “He’s a good looking guy. How could you not-”

     “I’m hanging up.”

     “No! What the hell is going on?”

     “Don’t want to talk about it.”

     He sat back in his chair. When I finally looked at the screen and took in his expression, I knew he got it. Maybe.

     “Since when?”

     “Since when, what?” I dodged.

     “You’re not seeing that guy.”

     “Well, since it wasn’t anything but fun anyway-”

     “Jesus,” he huffed. He did not bother to wait for my response. “When are you gonna give this up and take meeting someone seriously?”

     “Maybe when you-”

     “Dumbest argument ever.” He flipped me off and my jaw dropped. “I at least got married. Divorced, yeah. But I was married and loved it, remember? You won’t even try for fuck’s sake.”

     “I’m just saving a whole lot of trouble for someone.”

     “Bull shit.”

      “You’re not my therapist.”

      “Considering you don’t have a therapist, I kinda am, sis.”

      “Owen, let it drop.”

      His eyes pierced the screen and hit mine and my cheeks colored all the more. It was the same look mom would deal out when we were caught avoiding chores or doing something naughty.

      “I just want you to be happy.”

      “I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.”

      “No, but you sure as shit deserve to be happier.” He fell quiet and I picked at a bit of dry skin on my palm. “I know this year is hard. Shit, every year has been hard.”

      I swallowed. He looped us back to a conversation from my prior year’s birthday. I had officially out-lived my mother. To think that by the time she was thirty two, Corrine had lived her whole life. The notion made all the bruises of losing her and Dad all the more fresh. Grief is strange that way. Loss does not get easier as the years pass. It doesn’t heal. No. Those are the kind of wounds that are permanent. They rear up every day and your brain just puts the pain into a box with a lid and a label to remind you. But it never goes away. Owen was the only one who knew who Mom and Dad were for us. Gran might have been her mother, but Corrine was our mom. That kind of permanence doesn’t go away. Not ever.

      Feeling wrung out and done, I told my brother that I loved him and would talk with him in a few days. Upset was not the right word. It was easy to brush others off as just not understanding the situation. With Owen, hiding was not an option. What was an option was to shove the whole conversation to the side and ignore it for a few blissful hours to focus on research. 

     “Fuck,” I sighed as I looked at my scattered pile of notebooks and the singular tab that was open on the laptop. 

     What was there really to research? I had followed the thread of Jake Thomas and of Yakov Petrov to its end. Whoever the hell it actually was in that cemetery was just as elusive as the story itself. Was there a pirate? Yup. Was there a love story right out front and center? Yes. It hurt my head all the more that both were dead and stuck in a cemetery trying to figure out how to ‘move on’ but not leave each other.

      “God, this sucks balls,” I griped.

      How dramatic would it be to torch a manuscript? Would it hurt? Would I laugh maniacally as I dropped it page by page into the open flame? Or perhaps let it spoil in the rain. Ah, even better - cast it to the wind off some mountain would be delightful, I would imagine. The writers of old must have relished in the self murder of their work, unlike what it takes today. Striking a simple delete key does not seem to have the same killing stroke.

     My vibe must’ve been casting a bat signal as a text came through from Vin, scheduling a check in in a few days. I grimaced. I was going to have to get my shit together and make my story the best ever gothic pirate romance. Fuck my life. In truth, I was at a dead end. No pun intended, of course. Guitar Jake or Yakov the Artist. There was no real way to incorporate them in the story either. Maybe they could be side characters? The dynamic could add to a comedic element. Twentieth century hedonist rock star meets nineteenth century hedonist artist from deep in his own family tree…

     “I have officially lost my shit,” I muttered as I made myself move away from my perch at the table.

     Truth be told, if my research was complete, there was no reason to stay in Frankenmuth - was there? The idea seemed wrong. The thought was frayed at the ends like it was trying to stop me from leaving. I melted into the soft cushions of the sofa. Funny idea that was - but why? My fingers found the comfort of the tangled, corded fringe of a pillow as my mind began to drift.

⭒☾   I smoothed the scratchy lace down across the bodice of the dress. The pit of my stomach bristled with opposition. I did not need another party. I did not need to dance and smile and laugh falsely. I did not need to breathe in smoke and the same conversations over yet again. I wanted to lay with my Jakub and feel his warmth around me. I wanted to read to him and him to me and listen to his breathing with the crash on the velvet shore as the sun cast its last rays to the sky. I wanted to feel his strength and bask in the heat of us.

      However, there I was, walking down the grand stairs, eyes cast to me as if I were some entity to be in awe of. Father was clapping his hands and his voice was booming across the house guests in a tone of celebration. The players began to draw their bows across their strings in a lively jig that tugged the gathering to the wide planks of the ballroom. I blew out a breath that was sour as I cast a wary eye at the backs of my guests. I took refuge with my lovely sister-in-law, Celeste, in the sitting room where voices were hushed and tempers were placid. Somehow, she had hidden a tiny book of sonnets in the folds of her skirts. We read together and kept out the voices of those around us. 

      “Have you seen him? Has he been here to call upon you?” she whispered, her voice full of conspiracy wrapped in grace.

      I nodded as I turned the page. “Been here two days and every moment he can, he is here.”

      “I thought I had caught a glimpse of him on the beach when Astrid and I were at the market this morn,” she said. Her smile was dreamy as she leaned into me. “He’s so handsome. If all you say is true, Maéva, he is a good man that you love.”

      The words shivered across my skin and tingled in my breath. Celeste was my only confidant. She was the only one that knew of how my heart fluttered and my smile sparkled any time my Jakub was near. She was the only one I knew would not cast judgment to his station in this world, as she herself was the daughter of a stablemaster. And she was just as giddy as me when it came to my tales of how we would dance in the tide as it tumbled ashore, or the little trinkets that he would bring to me from his ports of call. She would swoon just as much as I would over the pretty little rock or the pressed flower that would remind him of something I wore or made him feel.

     “Dance with me.”

      I looked up to find Matthias hovering above me, his hand, although turned up for me to take, was kept against his hip bone. I did not like his face. There was a darkness about him that he did not shake, nor did he try to truly hide. His status as a future viscount was his bank that he had overdrawn upon to make himself elevated over the rest of us. We all knew why the viscount had brought his family to this place - he was poorer than those that made their way on the beaches and on the ships of the harbor. He only presented lavishness and superiority due to the blood in his veins. Looking into his dead eyes and his flat mouth, I made my apologies that I was not well enough to dance. Celeste slid her fingers through mine to hold me close.

      “I am sorry, sir,” she said as if her tone was filled with silk. “But our Maéva feels a fever coming upon her-”

      He reached for our joined hands and separated us. “She looks plenty strong enough.”

      I searched for my father, but he was too busy clapping Matthias on with encouragement that I knew any argument would be for not. The anger toiled under my breath as I voided my expression. One dance. And then I could build upon Celeste’s fever fib. My eyes stared forward while my feet and frame moved in time with the players. I imagined my Jakub, dressed in the fine fabrics that Matthias wore, showing off the strong body and grace he had been blessed with. I saw him with his hair drawn back and his hands polished. But that was not him. No. My Jakub was wind blown and wild and hardened by work. His mind was open and his words were shaped by his experiences. That was the man I loved. Threadbare and hungry.

      Father and the viscount were close, talking with wide smiles. Their words were fast and glib looking. Father’s excitement was palpable. His hands were like two excited birds flitting around him. I gave the man I danced with no satisfaction of words. But then he gave me only silence anyway. It was as if he and I were in unvoiced agreement to pacify the patriarchs that were obviously so much more aflutter over our nearness. Soured thoughts were bending the joyful notes that filled my ears. Each face that I looked upon held anticipation and cheer. Anxiety stabbed at my feet. My limbs turned heavy as I turned away from him to give me some distance from his nearness. Celeste hurried towards me, her pretty face stretched with concern.

      “Come. The air grows too close for us here,” she was saying as Matthias reached to catch my shoulder.

      “They expect us to dance, madam,” he said, voice icy and hand heavy on my skin.

      “They can be disappointed then,” she remarked.

       My feet fumbled forward. I was thankful for the full skirt to hide such ungainly steps. My breath felt hot in my mouth and my stomach lurched. Everything felt woozy as Celeste maneuvered us through the tangle of guests. I wanted my rooms, but instead, she drew me to the parlor where she could shut away the eyes and wagging tongues but get me to sit.  

      “You do have a fever,” she said as she cast the window open.

      “No,” I said, wiping at my mouth. “I was just faint. Perhaps his sickish perfume was too close to my nose.”

      “He really is a brute. I heard Abel saying some rather unkind statements about that one.” She was pouring a few drops of wine into a tiny glass as I tried to compose myself. “We can hide here for a while. I’m sure Papa will be on the hunt for us, but I say let him hunt. I do not trust him when he is with the viscount. He changes when that man is near.”

      She was correct. Father changed in the face of bred privilege. My soul quivered across the notion. My father’s intentions were becoming very clear. It sickened me. I wondered if they were in negotiations for my hand already, or perhaps still in the discovery phase like two dogs, sniffing at each other to see if the carcass of the other was willing to submit. Tears prickled at my eyes at the thought. I had no control over this and it was as if I was a prized bitch looking to be sold. Celeste took to my side, but I could not be consoled. I wanted my Jakub. Such a simple dream to love him and be with him… ☾

      My lungs burned like I had been under water too long. I sputtered and coughed through emotions as I pushed away from the couch. I was crying. My cheeks felt hot and sticky and wet with strangled cries that I had just been having in my dream-state. I was quick to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water to cool the effects. The dreams were getting harder to take. I had tried to write them down as is, but they were like smoke through my brain, too thin and elusive to really record. Although, I was discovering that elements of these pieces were landing more often into the story. Spooky. It was the sense of my brain leaking out uncontrollably onto the proverbial page that bothered me more than the gothic pirate love story as a whole.

     I needed out of the rental for a bit. It was too late for lunch, but early supper wasn’t a horrible thing. Deciding on the diner, I packed up my bag and thought perhaps I could tuck into a corner and proof the last few pages over coffee and sandwich without having to hog a booth or table during a rush. I was correct that it was not busy, but there was a rather large, loud group that had pushed six tables together in the middle to accommodate their numbers. By the look of it, it was a men’s group that was meeting for their afternoon dose of gossip.

      I slid into the booth that the server had waved me to. My eyes rolled closed over the first sip of steaming coffee. God that was good. I tucked behind the laptop, fighting to keep my expression blank as I read over the squishy words that I was daring to call worthy of a story. I sat back as the server returned to take my order. As I handed her the menu, I noticed a set of eyes I had seen before - faded blue jean colored and a very sun weathered smile met my gaze. I grinned at the kind man from the park who had been working.

     Dinner finished, and some hot gossip taken in with hearty laughter, I decided to walk through the park by the library, and perhaps step foot inside as it had been a few days since I had looked across the books and care that Becca and the others had helped me through. Stopping at the florist, I purchased a few large plants to take along in thanks. It would be my first step in severing the connection here. I owed them so much, even if it did not amount to what I would really be using in the story. 

      “I come bearing gifts,” I announced as I struggled through the door.

     Becca was quick to help. “Oh, these are lovely.”

     “I thought a little more green in here would keep you bright,” I said, smiling across the wide range of plants and live displays that would carry the library through the winter.

     I helped her put them close to the windows by my workstation. I grinned as I looked at her. “I’m afraid I’m nearing the end of my stay,” I admitted, my fingers drifting across the huge binding of the newspapers.

     She smiled. “You’ve found what you’ve come for.”

     I nodded, though reluctance swam across my heart. “I believe that I have. You have been so good to me here.”

     Emotional outburst aside, it was going better than I planned. We chatted a bit before I set into the books that had become the path of my story that made my fingers itch, despite not really liking the plot. Perhaps I will settle into it at some point. 

      “Oh my goodness,” Becca exclaimed from behind the glass of the back office. 

      I was not the only one to sit up, prairie dog style looking for the source of upset. She was making her way towards me with a look that might have been inspiration. I glanced around to find that other patrons were just as puzzled as I was.

      “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, Y/n,” she proclaimed as she had eyes cast down on her phone, scrolling. “What was I thinking? Or… well. Not thinking is more like it.”

      “Uh, wanna catch me up here, Becca? I’m not from here, remember,” I laughed at her flustered state, sure she was thinking full sentences, but what was coming out made no sense.

      She grinned as she waved at me. Her exuberance washed over me and it was hard not to get caught up in it, even though I had no idea what was going on. “I have someone I need you to meet.”

Chapter 8.2: Swansong in the Graveyard

     “We need to run.”

     The words blazed in my thoughts as I watched the creature rise from my grave once more. I had come to the decision that this feminine form could not be Maéva. If the memories that had been shown to me thus far were true, then this thing could not be her. If this thing were my soulmate, there would be no hesitation within and know me for what I am - hers. And the truth would be the same for me, but all I could feel towards it was… curiosity. Perhaps anger. Jealousy, even. How such a creature could be doomed to repeat or seem to repeat the same construct of a path over and over without meaning…  Wait. What am I if that road of thought were true?  What am I in this half existence but the same as the creature - am I nothing more than goo from the ether that has been chained to a strip of ground because of some man’s greed and foul nature? For lack of a better phrase, I closed my being off from the lights of the world as the creature slipped away once more. Could something such as myself be petulant? The stray thought struck as the gate whined to its closed position.

     “We need to leave.”

     Her hands were shaking against my chest. Whatever had happened had just occurred. She had run to me still dressed in her fine cream and olive green gown. The lace puckered and draped across her breasts and dripped from her shoulders. I could not stop myself from dragging my fingers across her collarbones and up along her graceful neck. I tried to soothe her with my words and touch and kisses, but she whipped herself away from me.

     “Jakub!” she cried, her delicate fingers tucking into tight fists.

     “Just tell me then what has happened,” I said, unable to keep the edge of impatience from my tone.

     She withdrew a few steps. Her features slacked with an expression that made me quiet. “I am to marry.”

     The bottom of my very shallow world fell away. I could not understand her words that she continued to speak. Every bit of me was frozen on the notion that she was meant for another.

     “Jakub,” she whispered.

      I kissed her. It was all I could do. Our dream was to be severed. I pressed my fingertips into the plump of her blurred out cheek and the hardness of her back as if I could force her to be part of me through this mourning. She reeled back from me with a frustrated cry.

      My thoughts thinned and I found myself kneeling, hands dug into the darkness of the dirt. I begged the cosmos to allow me to see her - to see my Maéva. To know her features, her expressions, her… her soul and how it resided in her eyes. I could feel her innocence. I could feel her goodness. It danced across my fabric. But to just glimpse her eyes and know her. My chin tipped and I looked into the velvet of the night sky and the swirl of songs and begged for that scrap of memory.

      “No- no, Jakub,” she stammered. “We can leave this place - together. We can go to the east! We can build our lives there!”

     “Maéva, you don’t know what it’s like-”

     The sound she made hit me. I had insulted her.

     “I don’t know what? How to live without my family? Or do you mean to say I do not know how to live without my family’s wealth?”

     I felt a sigh bubble through my chest. “You don’t know what it truly means to be cold or hungry. Despair is not what I ever want for you.”

     “If it means we are together, I would gladly show you what strength lies in these bones of mine.” 

     She was so resolute. So sure of herself. It was the trappings of her always having what she needed that gave her that kind of confidence. I felt small for these thoughts. She possessed such knowledge, such a drive to learn - but this. What she was asking would take away the shelter that allowed her to thrive in that world.

     “Jakub - you could learn to farm, or build ships or apprentice in some other trade,” she was explaining. “And I could teach!”

     “Teach?”

     “I taught you. Surely there is no other more stubborn student!” Her laugh was pulling at my resolve. “Or I can learn to be a clerk, or even farm at your side if you are willing to have me.”

     She was reaching for me once more and I could not keep my hands from passing across the fine fabric that held a menagerie of flowers and moths and swirls of colors that I could’ve studied for days to pick out all of the finer details. She knew there was nothing I would not do for her. But this - to just run. To leave them all behind and live in this world together - as equals.

      “My mother,” I whispered into her hair.

     “Of course we will bring her,” she said without hesitation.

     Her exuberance was hard not to purchase in to.

     “You have been to Boston and New York. We can make our life there. We could be free there,” she continued on.

     I paused, knowing that no ship would be leaving any time soon. “When does your father expect this wedding?”

     “June.”

     The lake ice would have the harbor locked up for a few more weeks. If LaBeau was willing to wait to give his daughter away, that gave us the opportunity to book passage. My purse was too light to do this - to make our escape. I was already a beggar. How was I to do this without coin, without…

      She kissed me and led my hands against her fine dress. She was shivering with cold. I folded her close knowing that I needed to return her to the cage of her rooms - at least for now. I wrapped my coat around her, the bite of cold nipped at me but she allowed me to hold her close as we began to walk. Maéva was like a bird, chirping out plans and flittering with excitement. 

     The doubt attacked in the silence of my brain once it was alone. How could I care for her? Surely she would come to regret stepping so willingly into the depths of poverty and find her love turning to resentment when the realization came that her belly was empty and her body exposed to the true harshness of this world. To know that she would willingly walk into the sheer unknown only because she loved me, set my brain on needles with thoughts of unsureness. She trusted that I would provide what I could and in trade she would care for me. Though these lands of the new world were framed as obtainable dreams, that was still only true for those of wealth. Maéva would grow tired of the scrabble to just survive on the daily means of hard labor. Perhaps I should walk away and let her to her path of husband and titles and …

      My gaze turned to the way the tops of the trees bent under the angry gust of wind. It matched my own thoughts. I had entertained leaving her behind? I wanted to leave her to a fate chosen by her father? If an entity such as myself could feel shame, I am sure I was feeling it the only way I knew how. The waves of color that thundered around me, billowing into storm clouds, were gathering to punish me. Fun was on them - apparently all of this was punishment across all time.

     I had watched the ice slowly crush against the shore. Maéva fought with me to take her purse and purchase three tickets on the first ship that could carry us east. It was going to be hard enough to try to get her aboard without recognition, but to be forced to use her own money - it was not the start to our lives that I wanted and it bruised my ego in a way that was difficult to swallow. After years of watching my mother struggle to keep us alive, then adding my hands to the work, it was beyond hard to take her money, no matter the cause. I had fought my way through this life. I would fight my way to get away with her, even if it meant I had to take her as a married woman - take her from that rogue of a man her father deemed better.

     It was bitter. My need to stand in our way because of some perceived notion that I had to be a man for her was dragging upon us, threatening the tender thread of a chance that waited for us. What a fool I was.

     Another grand ball celebrating the engagement roused me from my sulking, for that was what I really was doing - acting like a child who had been scolded and paddled. I snuck up onto the side patio, staying to the shadows with my eyes searching for Maéva. There were musicians playing and people moving around with huge smiles that oozed privilege. I saw LaBeau waving his arms around and acting like he was the rooster on the field while his daughter stood at another man’s side. I hated it - the sight of that man, that Matthias, being so close to her made a rage boil in my belly that I could not tolerate. 

     Their hands met and he guided her through a dance that made the guests of the party clap their hands and smile their most beautiful smiles. No smile was upon Maéva’s mouth, however. Quite the opposite. What more, Matthias mirrored her hard expression. I watched as she turned, full of grace, full of beauty while her father beamed in his greed and lust for title for the family. And the man who was equally bright - that must have been the viscount. He was practically leering over the merchant’s purse that swung so heavy at his side and dripped from the walls of his marvelous manor house. They were the mechanism that drove this union, surely.

     I caught Maéva’s eye, but withdrew deeper into the shadows. Amongst the smiles and delicate music, I solidified my presence as an outlier. I would free her from this fate that her father wanted more for himself than for her. To know that he would damn her for a few scraps of veneration was sickening. Was his wealth not enough, must he really have a title to put before his name as well? 

     Pathetic.

     The veil of clouds streaked across the velvet of night, curling and swirling through the air like the smoke from Monsieur LaBeau’s fine pipe. I could feel the anger I had felt across the expanse of time. If that was a lesson that I needed to learn from, then in my stubbornness, I never learned to let that malice subside. I could feel it still bubble and toil on my echoed thoughts.

     I stole away from the manor house like a stray cat turned away from its supper. I lingered on the edges of the beach, not wanting to be seen by anyone for fear of seeing the toil of my struggle over her. I had sequestered her coins under the floor of my bed. I would collect those coins and find a ship to the east coast. It would be easier to hide in a city. Perhaps we could get to Savannah. I had listened to a fellow deck hand ramble for hours about the warmth and wild beauty of the near tropical port. Or maybe Philadelphia. There were many, many people there making hiding amongst them easier.

     I knew she would be in the market the following day with her matron. We’d found it easy enough for me to shadow her for a chance to talk. It was always near the baker when Leila would have her attention pulled enough away from her charge that we could sneak away for long enough for the woman to take no notice. The morning found me lingering amongst the fringes of the market square, my stomach empty. Mother had used the last few coins for medicine for the woman next door. The babe had been sick for days. Mother had been trying to apply the typical remedies, but the fever was slow to break and it was obvious that the child's needs were beyond her hands. She bartered where she could, but when there was nothing left to barter with, she would turn to what her body may earn. I would be sure to beg the stable master and the blacksmith for work, even if it meant for a few scraps to get us through a few days.

      And there it was once more. I hid this from Maéva. This aspect of struggle. I wondered if I did it to protect her or keep her blind? It did not matter. She would hear me once more lay out what was ahead, but I knew in my heart that she would not listen. She would have to learn hunger and need through experience and I would have to keep my tongue about me as she waded through the mire in hopes that she would not wake and realize the horrible mistake that she was making on loving me.

     Close to midday, I was near giving up that she would arrive, and getting more frustrated as I knew I should be finding work for my hands, not standing idle. Finally, she appeared, fresh and bright amongst the damp and dingy pier. I fought my heart from just running to her. How foolish would that be. No. I waited and quietly watched as she looked over the wares she was there to procure for another day in the grand house. Her matron was already looking thin of patience. I wonder if Maéva had deliberately worn her through before even reaching the market for the sole purpose of this visit. I bided my time, moving slowly and making sure to look at the different vendors before stopping once more before the baker’s stall. My stomach stabbed and complained. I was fighting the urge to snatch a lump of bread that had been cut apart and tossed to the side as stale as it was easier to feed it to the birds than a human in need. I dug my fist deeper into my torn pocket in hopes that it would keep me from the easy notion of theft. She approached, relieving my thoughts of my hollow belly.

      “Good day,” she whispered, hiding her mouth in her outstretched arm.

      I smiled and nodded as I looked for the matron. “Talk?”

     I moved away as was our warrant in such affairs. I would find her once more closer to the beach once she was able to slip the eye of Leila. There was a spot under the well trod boards of the pier that was in between the massive pylons where the boulders sheltered the land. I waited, breathing in the soured, fish riddled air. Maéva appeared in all of her faceless brightness, but I could feel her smile radiating off all of her body. It was always the same without fail whenever she came near. I could only imagine what I actually looked like, but on the inside - I swooned over her nearness.

     She took my hand and I leaned in to kiss her mouth, but I stopped before the sweet crush touched my lips. “Will you want to go to Savannah?” I whispered.

     Half of a breath later, her arms were thrown around my neck and her lips to mine with a trill of laughter. I found myself caught up in her exuberance. My love for her was absolutely consuming and yet so strong that I felt as if I could sustain on our love alone.

     Coyotes chirping in the distance drew my eye back to the present. The creature was once again laying upon my grave. It was torture not knowing the significance of this being. Or perhaps it was the anguish of knowing this lingering was my form of purgatory. I was languishing across centuries of time that I should have been with her - with my Maéva. 

Yeah. So where do we go from here? 💚

Tags are in the comments as it seems to work best that way! If you want to be added, let me know.

@edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep  @lvnterninthenight  @katuschka @thewritingbeforesunrise @ignite-my-fire @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @demonrat444 @klarxtr @peaceloveunitygvf @hollyco @lipstickitty @joshym @itsafullmoon @josh-iamyour-mama @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @way-to-go-lad @jjwasneverhere @gretavangroupie @emojakekiszka @wetkleenex-gvf @vanfleeter @losfacedevil @myownparadise96 @lizzys-sunflower @literal-dead-leaf @musicislove3389 @raceb14

[necrotic-nephilim]

https://www.tumblr.com/necrotic-nephilim/760168597014413312/bftc-jaytim-fuck-nasty-in-their-batman-suits?source=share

give a whole new meaning to "at least drake took it like a man"

SCREAMING this is the funniest thing ever oh my god i choked on my dr pepper-

i love that line in general, i think it's such a fun line that says a lot about how Jason feels about Tim. but in the context of Jason saying it after fucking Tim oh my GOD that's just. it's delightful. i'm going to be giggling about this all day oh my god. thank you anon this is delightful-

[zeb-z]

ok listen. you're badboyhalo and having the worst week of your life. you're willing and wanting to give anything, anything, to get your kids back. forever, your crush/enemy/friend/date partner?/ president sits you down and asks you to marry him. he's on a drug that makes him manically happy and has an extreme level of brainwashing for federation purposes.

you consider for the briefest moment saying yes, because you're drowning in your grief and hard in bargaining, but it won't do anything to help bring the eggs back, forever doesn't know anything. forever wants the eggs back as much as you do, the real one at least, you know this.

you're surrounded by roses. you ask him what you can do to help him, what he needs, asking the forever that you know is in there somewhere. any other personal feelings aside, he's your friend and he clearly needs help. he asks you to marry him again. he tells you to stop making some noise that he's clearly hearing through auditory hallucination. you just want your kids back, you keep telling him this, until he snaps and starts shooting mines under both of you.

forever is still out of his mind. your kids are still missing. the roses are burning.

bad said no to the proposal, of course he did. that's not forever, the kids are gone, this is no time or place for such a thing even if forever was himself. but I don't think forever asked because he feels "opposite than what he usually feels" under the pills. he's manic and under the influence and half brainwashed - he wants every day to be the best day.

and how heartbreaking is that? that bad is only being proposed to while forever is out of his mind. that forever wants bad to say yes because that would make the day the best day ever for him. that under any other circumstances, on that bench with the roses all around them, it might have been something good?

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[sysig]

Totally unaffected by this gesture of affection, definitely (Patreon)

[yellowocaballero]

I loved NewWave and it's nominated for my top reads 2023, BUT THE JASON FICLET??? I thought it was going to be a light read but it hit me full force in the face because I didn't expect to identify so much with Jason! When I read your Jason it was like I was reading myself and I want you to know that I started reading it early at night and finished it at dawn because I constantly had to stop and cry because of how much my heart resonated with his! loved it

HI THANK YOU <3

I'm glad you identified with him! Jason is very much a character who's a little like me too. He's a born writer, and his way of using fiction to put the world in a framework that he can understand is very relatable. It leaves him a little out of touch with the reality of situations, but that's a feature and not a bug.

I can't relate as much to the racial undercurrent in the story, but I don't want to understate it. It has to suck for Jason to feel constantly compared to the blonde haired blue eyed 'perfect sidekick'. She provides something seen as valuable and ideal that Jason never could. Coming from Steph's viewpoint (and considering canon) the idea of her being unattainable perfection is deeply funny, but it's very real to Jason. Adding in Tim - who's identical to Bruce and comes from the same social strata - makes Jason feel like it's every man for himself.

That's what makes his connection with Bruce even more important, though. He's the polar opposite of Bruce in every way, but although Tim and Bruce are similar in a lot of ways, Jason and Bruce have a deep connection and understanding that Tim and Steph don't. They're both dreamers who make the world a stage, their need for justice comes from a place of great pain, and they love in quiet ways.

Jason's a special kid. Like Steph, he has so much value that he doesn't see. Unlike her, he wants more - he's hungry for it, that life with meaning and kindness. He's finally attained something good, and he's scared of losing it. He has so much to offer that he can't see, and the happiness of the story is when he's seen.

New Wave was my way of giving a character who's been routinely fucked over by canon and sidelined by fandom the spotlight. She's special and perfect and loved and recognized and important because...she's none of those things 'in real life'. I wanted to give that to her. Steph's a character I related to when I was her age, and I wanted to give that to myself too.

Jason came from a similar place. I do think canon & fanon are like...overly obsessed with him lmfao. There's a billion 'Jason joins the manor' stories and it's why I almost didn't write the story lol. But he's rarely given the chance to be a kid, one who exists in his own right - to join the Batfam out of his own choice, which is something bizarrely rare in fic. And kids like Jason are the forgotten ones, and it will always be Jason's dream to show the forgotten children that they're as much Robin as he is.

I'm glad it meant something to you ;-;. This story meant a lot to me too, which is why I can go onnnn about it lol. Thanks for reading and enjoying! <3

[mejomonster]

Oh also when I start dropping the Red White and Royal Blue book quotes expect a FLOOD I'm highlighting the fuck out of this book

[huntingrays]

so, i love and vibe w bi leo, it’s so good

however

something just hits different with gay leo who’s been performing heterosexuality for years